It transpired that in January this year, Hubster made a business trip to Bristol. As I was desperate to see London, and Hubster’s brother was also there on business, Little Man and I flew out to meet them on a Saturday.
At this point in time, I was 31 weeks pregnant. We were flying on Finnair, who, at the 28th week of pregnancy, require a doctor’s certificate to prove that the pregnancy is progressing normally. You’re required to send the certificate to Finnair prior to your flight, and they will send you an approval, which you must have in order to board. In Finland, this certificate can be signed by a midwife, but when I asked mine about it, she said that only private clinics will provide them. So I made an appointment at the Terveystalo (literally “health house”; this is the private clinic), saw a doctor for about 15 minutes, and obtained my certificate for a whopping 154€. (Insurance did eventually cover it, but it took being submitted twice before that happened.)
For Finnairs requirements for flying while pregnant, click here.
The day of our flight to London, no one asked to see my certificate or, indeed, asked if I was pregnant at all. I had been emailed an approval from Finnair, so I wasn’t worried, but after all the hassle, it would’ve been nice to know that it was needed. All the same, Little Man and I boarded the flight, and spent an enjoyable three hours on the airplane. It was probably one of his best ever flights, behaviour wise, other than the ones where he slept the entire time. Lucky for me, since being so pregnant is not comfortable at the best of times, but especially not on an airplane.
We landed safely in London, breezed through immigration, and made our way to the train that would take us to Paddington Station. I love Paddington Station. It’s so iconically British and has everything the harried traveler could need, and then some. We had timed it perfectly so LM and I had only about a ten minute wait for Hubster’s train from Bristol. I managed to find which track it would be arriving on and planted LM in front of it while pointing out various dogs to keep him occupied. Soon enough, Hubster appeared, and we all made our way to a nearby cafe for a quick coffee and snack before catching the tube to our Air BnB in Kensington.
We picked up the keys from a hotel, then decided to stop at Waitrose for a few essentials. We then proceeded to walk from the Gloucester Road tube station to Queens Gate. Turns out, that’s where a lot of Embassy’s are, and it felt very fancy, walking through Kensington, surrounded by high end cars and gorgeous buildings.
Our accommodations were a small but nice ground floor flat, with drafty windows and the noisiest neighbors I’ve ever encountered. Little Man had started running back and forth around 6 pm, causing (I’m guessing) the neighbors below us to slide a note under the door asking that we not run “noisily”. I felt bad for disturbing them, but then again, it was 6 pm on a Saturday! I really wanted to know if they had a word with any of the people coming and going between 10 pm and 3 am who decided that yelling up the stairway (directly in front of our door) was the best possible way to communicate for extended periods of time. I doubt it. At least LM managed to sleep through all the ruckus.
Sunday morning dawned bright and crisp. We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in the flat, before setting out to explore Hyde Park. I was thrilled to finally see it. After reading all the Jane Austen novels, and so many others that reference this marvelous green space, my romantic teenage heart was swooning. With the sun shining through the trees onto the frost-covered grass, the smell of the fresh air, and the lovely English accents surrounding us, I felt like I’d walked right into one of those novels. Little Man found no end of enjoyment in chasing after the various dogs taking their morning constitutionals, and we slowly wound our way to Round Pond. Here, we marveled at the geese and innumerable swans floating merrily on the still water.
We continued our explorations by passing Kensington Palace (OMG, that’s where Will and Kate live!!), and admiring the pretty, if not yet in bloom, gardens.
From there, we walked to the Diana Memorial Playground. We picked up a coffee and pastries from the little coffee shop outside, before entering the most amazing play area. Any adult entering must be accompanying a child, and the gate is unlocked by someone inside. This place is indescribably fantastic. All the play structures are made out of wood, with the exception of the metal slides, and there are numerous little areas, all with different themes, and separated by foliage. (One area is filled with a huge ship. It was incredible, and clearly a favorite of the kids.) You could easily spend an entire day there, but we called it quits after about two hours of nonstop running by LM.
As we left, we met up with Hubster’s brother or, as Little Man calls him, Unky Mark. At this point, Little Man was pretty worn out, not to mention hungry (he does this great thing where he gets too distracted by playing to realize how hungry he is or, indeed, eat), and showed all the signs of an impending meltdown. It was nearing lunchtime anyway, so we made our way to a pub for a classic British lunch. I had a chicken and mushroom pie (not at all the type of “pie” Americans think of, more like chicken pot pie), and the boys had pub food and beer. It was all delicious. I have no clue where the idea that British food is awful comes from, but I love it. Of course, it could have been the pregnancy hormones (give me all of the food!), but I’d recommend trying it before writing it off.
Happily full, our little group then trekked to the nearest tube station (the riding of the train being the highlight of Little Man’s day), and headed to Vauxhall City Farm. Hubster and I had taken LM to a city farm on our trip to Bristol two years previously, and thought he might enjoy it this time as well. We had also tried to plan things specifically that he would like, hence the Diana Memorial Playground. Honestly, he would’ve been happy riding the tube all day long, but it was nice to have a destination.
We chose Vauxhall City Farm over a few others for a couple of reasons: First, it was close to a tube station (about a ten minute walk), and convenient to get to from our flat; second, it was open on a day and time that we could visit; and third, it was free! (London is expensive, so any free activities are a total bonus.) It wasn’t very big, but the farm had alpacas, goats, chickens, rabbits, and horses. The people are friendly, and they ask for a donation, if you’d like to give one, at the entrance. We managed about twenty minutes there before Little Man tried making his way back to the tube station, so we gave in and headed home. Unky Mark had some more work to do, so we said “see you tomorrow” after disembarking from the Underground, stopped again for groceries, and had a quiet dinner in. LM fell asleep at 8:30, I’m assuming in order to recharge for the next day which, unbeknownst to us at the time, would be the most jam-packed of the trip. But I’ll save that for the next post…which I promise I’ll publish much quicker than this one!
Adventures Abroad 