Back in the fall, I was lucky enough to literally bump into a college friend, Colleen, when I was walking on my street in London. Colleen and I had mutual friends in college but met when we studied in Spain together. Neither of us knew the other was living in London, but quickly learned we had been living in the same neighborhood for nearly a year when we bumped into each other. Colleen has a huge network of friends here in London and has been very graciously introducing us to them. It was with that group – 20 people in total – that we went skiing in Solden, Austria.
Greg was so thrilled about skiing in the Alps. I, however, was terrified. Greg kept telling me that the Alps are the same mountains that I skied in Colorado and Utah, but when we our flight to Innsbruck started its descent and I saw the tops of those mountains peeking through the clouds, I did NOT believe him. When we arrived at the chalet we’d rented, the front steps looked directly at the top of the mountain we would be skiing the next day – and my knees went weak.
This is the view from the front steps of the house. The mountain we skied is the one on the right, covered in equal parts snow and sunshine.
This is the house we rented, Chalet Carlo, and a little bit of my finger.
Welp, I went all the way to Austria, and even got a new ski jacket just for the occasion, so I had to give it a go. And I surived!! It felt great to ski again. Well, it felt great for a day or two. After that it really hurt.
Most of the crew
Greg tried to push his luck going off-piste. The result was goggles, hat, hood, and pockets full of fluffy white snow.
Nothing beats a cold beer at a mid-mountain lodge bar. Except maybe a cold beer from the lodge at the bottom of the mountain….
It actually snowed on our first day out, which made for less than perfect conditions that only worsened as the day went on. But that left us with fresh powder and perfectly clear, sunny days each day following.
Before…
After!
You can take all the pictures you want, but nothing really does justice to the beauty and grandeur of the Alps that can only be appreciated in person.
We had a blast hanging out on the slopes all day, enjoying the apres ski in the tiny Austrian town at night, and enjoying the rustic Alpine setting of our chalet.
This guy had the most popular hat in town.
The locals in Solden really know how to party.
Looking back at what we skiied down (just kidding, Mom!).
Yes, yes, I know. It’s been a really long time since the last United Klemdom post. But when you read through the next few posts, you might understand what’s kept us so busy!
In mid-January we went to Edinburgh for a weekend with our friends Jodie and Jonathan. Jodie also works for a hotel company (good people to know) and she got a deal on a brand new hotel, so we flew up north to check it out.
Scotland is not a warm place in January – and it’s especially chilly when you stand at the top of a castle at the top of a hill at the top of a plateau. But despite the cool conditions, Edinburgh seemed to have a very warm feeling (see what I did there?), and has remained one of my favorite cities. It’s not huge, but big enough to stay interesting and deftly pulls of a tricky balance between historic and modern. The city is dripping with historic buildings that line the cobblestone streets and creepy stories about people who were hanged but didn’t die and then spent the rest of their lives hanging out in pubs. But it also has some really cutting edge restaurants and a charm that keeps you wanting more.
We got in later on Friday night and made our way to The Grassmarket, an open area aptly named as it was once Edinburgh’s main market for grass and cattle. These days, The Grassmarket is home to much of the city’s student population as well as several pubs and restaurants. We settled into a communal table at a corner pub that was lit by wax candles and busy with the sounds of rough/drunken Scottish accents and an actual fiddler. We were really enjoying ourselves – until we realized that Jonathan’s wallet and cell phone had been stolen from his inner jacket pocket! As soon as we realized the wallet was gone, we realized just who took it when Jonathan’s jacket was hanging on a nearby seat. That story doesn’t end all too poorly though, as the Edinburgh police found his wallet and phone later that same night. However, that news came to Jonathan via a phone call from his parents, who live in England. Jonathan’s parents got the initial call at 4am informing them that their son’s wallet and phone were found in Edinburgh – and Jonathan had neglected to inform his parents he was going away for the weekend. Whoops! That chain of events certainly made for an entertaining breakfast conversation on Saturday morning.
We spent our first day walking the Royal Mile, a stretch of land that is home to most of the city’s most historic edifices including Holyrood Palace and Edinburgh Castle. The castle is absolutely stunning and occupies one of the top two locations in the city, providing visitors with views of the city and the nearby Firth of Fourth (yes that’s the real name of the estuary of the river Fourth… which is to the north…).
The view of Edinburgh from the Castle
Saturday night, we celebrated Jodie’s birthday with a really nice dinner, and quite possibly the best dessert I’ve ever had. It was basically a donut with ice cream in the middle. I’m not sure what could be better.
We got to visit Holyrood Palace, where the Queen and royal family stay when they visit Edinburgh. The Palace is attached to Holyrood Abbey, built in 1128, of which mostly ruins remain. It was yet another absolutely gorgeous building wrought with historic tales and scandals of royals through the years.
Interior wall of the Abbey
Jonathan, the only Brit in the group, wearing his coveted Team USA jacket.
Having toured Westminster Abbey and Buckingham Palace in London, it was really interesting to tour the places in Edinburgh that often represented the other side of the story. For instance, in Westminster Abbey you can see a chair that was built to hold the Stone of Scone – long ago considered sacred to the power of Scotland. in 1996, the stone was returned to Scotland and is now kept in Edinburgh Castle. It all comes full circle.
One of our favorite sights was Arthur’s Seat, the peak of Holyrood Park’s group of hills formed by volcanic activity. The park itself is gorgeous and crawling with Edinburgh’s active residents and their canine counterparts. That park alone is enough to make me want to go back to Edinburgh and spend more time. Well, that and the restaurants we didn’t get to…
I don’t know about you, but even though it’s February, I feel like Christmas JUST happened. Maybe it’s because we had such a great time celebrating the holidays this year!
We got a chance to go home for Christmas, and spent about two weeks with family and friends. It was absolutely wonderful! It was the longest stretch that we had spent in the States since moving to London, so we were able to see a lot of people in New Jersey and Maryland, with big family parties in both states. And we got to spend New Year’s with close friends! Here are some pictures from our time back home.
The three monkeys, very excited for Santa's arrival!
Ryan and Uncle Greg playing their favorite game, which consists of Greg filling his cheeks with air, Ryan squishing Greg's cheeks and getting a face full of exhale. I can't tell who enjoys it more.
The Jersey Stintons (and Klems) at the annual Stinton Christmas bash. I think all three kids are looking! And the small ones too!
Good thing Josie was there to help Uncle Brian open that giant present!
Sisters. Aw.
Josie on air guitar! (She's a Jersey girl at heart - I just know it)
For New Year’s, we rented a house in St. Michael’s, Maryland, with a bunch of friends. The house was supposedly the oldest house in St. Michael’s. George Washington stayed there and all that. It was in the perfect location – right off the main street, but directly across from an inlet. And it just so happened that the weather was unseasonably warm that weekend, so we really got to enjoy the setting.
This was what we saw when opened the front door of the house. Couldn't be better.
Jon enjoying the sunny weather on NYE. You can't see it, but there's a fire pit next to him that was later used to cook oysters. That's how we roll.
A quick stop at the Inn at Perry Cabin for the last glass of wine in 2011!
And as per tradition, we got together with the Penn State girls on New Year’s Day. This year, we had a new addition to the crew – Lilly!
Lilly and her mom, Kelly.
All in all, it was a great trip. We were so happy to see everyone and very thankful to those who traveled to spend time with us! We miss you all and look forward to seeing you again soon!
In the midst of this super chilly weather, I am thinking back to a warmer time – specifically, my trip to Sorrento, Italy this past June. I was lucky enough to be invited on this trip with my cousins Camille, Joseph, and Corinne. Camille has family ties to Sorrento – her great great grandfather was the town’s first mayor and her great grandfather was a famous actor who went by the name of Guglielmo (William) Ricciardi. Camille wanted to see where her family came from, and wanted to share it with her kids. Not only did we have an amazing experience learning about her roots, but we also got to spend a few days wandering through some beautiful places.
Camille rented a villa, called Casa Gilda, in Marina Grande.
We stayed in a great spot – just a short walk from the center of town, but perched high enough on the side of a hill to provide beautiful views of the harbor and endless seascape. Every morning we woke up to the sounds of the fisherman unloading their catch at the docks, and the flock of black cats that waited eagerly for scraps.
We spent a day at the Sorrento museum, where Camille knew there was some information pertaining to her family. She knew that her ancestors had donated an important encyclopedia of sorts, containing detailed drawings and information about various plants and herbs.
The museum also had a lot of information about her ancestors and other contributions they had made. As merchant ship owners, they traveled around Italy enough to draw up a very accurate map of the country, which was in a case alongside a story of their history and their photos.
Apparently the Ricciardi family was a pretty big deal in Sorrento.
We met the director of the museum, and when Camille explained who she was, his face lit up. They talked for quite a long time about the family, their contributions, remaining articles, and portraits of the family. To be honest, I’m not sure who was more excited – Camille or the museum director.
Can you tell it was roughly 900 degrees that day?
We spent a full day in nearby Pompeii, an ancient city that was both devastated and preserved by massive eruptions from Mount Vesuvius. So much of the city remains intact – individual houses, tombs, pieces of pottery, the main business district, theater, etc. It all sits in the shadow of the volcano with an incredible story to tell. Just don’t ask me to tell it to you, because a lot of those details have since left my brain. At least I have the pictures to show for it.
We were also treated to a special tour of Capri. Instead of taking the usual route with a bunch of strangers on a big boat (amateurs), we got a private tour with the property manager of our villa, Bruno. Bruno took the four of us over to Capri, stopping to let us hop in the water for a swim whenever we asked. That water was absolutely fantastic – so warm, and so salty that swimming required hardly any effort.
Bruno, our tour guide/captain/property manager/travel arranger
I had been to Capri once, just after I finished my semester in Spain, but I hardly remembered it. It was great to travel around the entire island by boat and take in the magnificent cliffs, impossibly clear, turquoise water, and then hop off the boat and hoof it around the expensive shops and tiny cafes. And then to cool off on the way back home with another splash in the Mediterranean – it’s really hard to top a day like that.
Please ignore the guy in the Speedo. We don't know him.
So what did we do on my last day in Sorrento? We relaxed on a sun deck perched in the water – this is kind of how they do it. By day, the are long wooden docks lined with lounge chairs and umbrellas. By night the same docks are sprinkled with cloth-covered tables, wine chillers, and happy diners. So it happens that we were sunbathing at the restaurant where we had dinner the previous night, which was in Marina Grande and offered views of our villa and the cliffs climbing up from the water’s edge. What a way to end a perfect trip!
Here are a few more pictures (note: I forgot to turn off the music on the slideshow, so you might want to turn your volume down/off). A big thank you to Camille, Joe, and Corinne for letting me crash their trip!!
After a long hiatus (and subsequent heckling from multiple parties – I’m looking at you, Poe Log), I feel compelled to resurrect this blog with a picture I couldn’t help but share.
London at Christmas is magical – it really is. And the festive activity starts somewhere around Halloween (which is another story for another post) and gains in strength exponentially, like an 18-wheeler hurling itself down the side of a mountain. Blinking lights hang from every object more than 3 feet tall, store windows are awash with fake snow and sequins, grocery stores rearrange their aisles to make room for cases of mince pies and gift boxes of various scented things, etc. Then December starts, and that means Christmas markets galore with more mulled wine than you’ve ever seen. It’s so much fun to feel like I can completely indulge my love for all things Christmas and not feel like I’m overdoing it. So, despite the fact that we’ll be in the States for two weeks around Christmas, and we have absolutely nowhere to store even so much as an extra napkin, I decided we needed to bring some of that festivity to our own little flat.
I thought about it for weeks, testing Greg out to see if he would be ok with getting a Christmas tree. My mom actually gave me the idea of getting a potted tree (how novel!) because I was concerned about storing a tree stand and leaving the tree without water for two weeks. Ok great – now where to get a potted tree in the city, and how to get it home without a car?
I could have gone to the flower market, but it’s a good walk from any tube station, and the thought of hauling a tree through all that just didn’t sound like fun. Thankfully I walked through a nearby market one afternoon and stumbled on a mini tree lot! I mean that in both ways – both the lot and the trees were mini. I got suckered into one stall and took home the first tree the seller picked out “just for me.” He wrapped it up and I carried it home in my arms the entire half-mile walk back to the flat. I finally got the tree home and put it out on the deck where it remained until Greg could see it in daylight two days later (it’s fully dark here by 4:15 so Greg goes to and from work in the dark). The first thing Greg noticed was that it was THE MOST. Crooked. tree. ever. That and the fact that it had about 7 branches total. I assured Greg that there was just some loose dirt between the bottom of the pot and the plastic brown surrounding it, but we quickly found that not to be true.
A larger basin and a paper towel roll wedge later, the tree was inside and looking somewhat less crooked. Now on to decorating it! We didn’t bring any of our ornaments or lights here, and didn’t want to buy anything that would take up space. Also, the only spot in the flat where it made sense to put a tree is totally devoid of outlets. I happened to find battery-powered lights online, and ordered two boxes. I laughed out loud when they arrived – I think there are a total of 20 lights on the entire tree. I also found a pack of flat 8 wooden ornaments, a gold bow, and one bolt of gold ribbon. No storage burden, no occupied outlets to worry about.
And there you have it, folks – if ever there was a tree that qualified as a true Charlie Brown tree, I’d say this is it. All 3.5 feet of it.
In all its glory.
Merry Christmas! I think one of the most important things we’ve learned from being here is that we’re very blessed to have such a wonderful family and great friends that we miss so much. We can’t wait to get home to the east coast and see you all!
While I was in the States galavanting up and down the east coast, Greg was pretty much doing the same thing–we just weren’t doing much galavanting in the same place at the same time.
Greg was in D.C. in early June to check in on the work he did to arrange Hilton’s presence at the U.S. Open at Congressional. As was to be expected, everything looked great.
Greg also got to spend some time with his family, caught up with some friends in D.C., and then met me in Baltimore on a Friday night for dinner with a group of close friends. That next morning, we went back to D.C., and just about had time for a quick lunch in our old Capitol Hill neighborhood before Greg headed for the airport en route to Montreal. Hilton sponsors two Formula One drivers for the McLaren, and as such, Greg often gets the tough job of attending the F1 races. Aside from loads of European enthusiasts, F1 races tend to be well-attended by A-list celebrities (and some B-listers as well). This is when Greg met his good friends, Rihanna and Ice T. And he saw some really loud, fast cars drive by super fast. But the videos can speak for themselves. Just a note: if you’re watching these at work, you might want to turn the volume down on your computer. F1 cars make a very high-pitched squealing noise that could land you in hot water with co-workers.
Here’s what it’s like when an F1 car goes by you at a couple hundred miles per hour, or whatever it is:
A real live pit-stop!
This is proof that Greg actually did meet Rihanna. He got a video, and his colleague David had his picture taken. You saw it here first, folks.
June was a bit of a crazy month for us. I don’t often travel without Greg, and he doesn’t have a ton of long trips for work, but in the month of June, both of those statements proved false. It’s tough to follow where we were for the month, so we’re going to break this down event by event. It could last for a few posts, so settle in.
Me first! I flew back to the States on June 1 for a bachelorette weekend at the beach in Delaware with my college friends. This was when I learned – the hard way – that you really want to avoid a connection on a trans-Atlantic flight. My London-Baltimore flight landed in Newark, and when I got there, I learned my flight to Baltimore was cancelled due to thunderstorms (which never actually happened, but it’s fine). Thankfully (or maybe not) I’m a seasoned Amtrak traveler and knew I could get to Baltimore from Newark on a train. They actually let me trade my plane ticket for a train ticket, which was my best option, and I headed for the train platform to wait out the 2 hours until my train arrived. However, not having a cell phone that worked in the States, or a way of connecting to the internet, or an AIR CONDITIONED WAITING ROOM AT THE TRAIN PLATFORM (it was roughly 875 degrees that day, and I was wearing jeans because it was cold in London) I got very familiar with the monorail system that goes back and forth between Newark airport and the Newark airport train station. Nope, not the same place, just in case you were wondering.
After booking my train ticket to Baltimore at the train station, I went back to the airport, bought time on the wifi network, and emailed everyone I needed to contact so I could make sure I would have a ride when I got to Baltimore and my mom knew I landed safely. Then went back to the train platform just in time to catch the train.
What’s that? Oh, the train before mine broke down? That’s funny, because it’s at the platform now and I can see it and I can also see all the people getting off of it. Oh, they’re getting on my train? Which is now late? Cool. No really, that’s awesome, because I was hoping that after an 8 hour flight across the ocean, a cancelled connecting flight, several trips between the airport and the train station, and a whole lot of uncomfortable humidity-induced perspiration, I could get on an overcrowded train and sit on the floor all the way to Delaware. Thanks, Amtrak. Now I can see where the funds from all of our overpriced northeast corridor tickets are going. Hugs!
So I finally made it to Baltimore, after about 17 hours of travel and just 5 hours after I was initially supposed to be there. Oh, did I forget to mention the train was also delayed by about an hour because it had to make several extra stops to accommodate the extra passengers? Cause there was that too. But all of that frustration melted right away when I got to see my friends in Baltimore. I even got to have lunch with Greg’s cousins Amber and Kelly and their wonderful little girls – so much fun. And true to form, I got a full-on, two arm, peeling sunburn after sitting outside. For lunch. Am I turning British?
The beach weekend was great. I got to see so many of my girlfriends from college, and even the inside of an emergency room in Rehoboth. But that’s another story (everyone is fine, by the way, and I wasn’t the reason we went there. It also had nothing to do with alcohol). We had a blast, had great weather, stayed in a house steps from the beach, and I even got to have a slice of pizza. Or two. Maybe more, I lost count. But you get the point.
Sunday afternoon I got back on an Amtrak train and went up to New Jersey to see my family. That Monday was my twin niece and nephew’s fifth birthday, so I got to join in the celebrations for that. It was also field day at school for my niece, Abby. It was also about 100 degrees. But it was so great to spend the entire day camped out at their house and hanging out with them. I also got to spend a day in New York with my sister. We went to Mario Batali’s Eataly, which is essentially an emporium of groceries, restaurants, and general wonderfulness. And the great surprise of the day was that Mario Batali was actually THERE! Because I put chefs on a major celebrity pedestal, I was seriously excited. But did I say hello? Ask him to autograph my dinner napkin maybe? No. Nope, just stood a few feet away and nervously snapped a picture while he talked to someone else. But it was still really exciting. After a truly unforgettable lunch that still makes my mouth water when I think of it, we walked across the city to check out the beer garden that opened that day underneath the High Line before heading back across the river. It was really too hot to stick around any longer.
Much of the week in NJ was spent with my family and catching up with a few friends and former co-workers. I really only took my camera out when I was with the kids or in the city, so the pictures are concentrated on a few events.
After a great week at home, I got BACK on an Amtrak train (joy) headed for Baltimore, where Greg met me. Greg had been in the States for some work meetings and got to see his family as well, but that’s a separate post. Greg and I had a wonderful Maryland-themed dinner with a bunch of close friends in Baltimore and had a great night catching up. Saturday we drove to DC to see more friends, but Greg had to fly to Montreal that afternoon. I stayed in the city and got to experience a fantastic DC block party and be back in our Capitol Hill neighborhood, which was really bittersweet. It was so nice to be back, but being there and not being able to go in our house felt very unfair.
I got to see more friends on Sunday, and even did a little shoe shopping (I miss you, DSW!!), then headed back to London that Monday morning. It was getting close to the longest day of the year, and the photo I took when I landed in London at 10:00 p.m. demonstrates the effects of being so far north. I had a beautiful sunset to welcome me back to London!
As noted earlier, the best thing about British summers is not the weather. In my humble opinion, the best thing about British summers is the abundance of music festivals. From June to August, you can barely leave the house without tripping over a music festival. And they’re good–really good. There was Glastonbury and Hard Rock Calling in June (featuring Bon Jovi!!), Lovebox in July, and countless others still to come.
My brother clued me in to the iTunes Festival, which consists of a concert every night in the month of July. The iTunes Festival takes place just a few miles up the road from us, in Camden, at a 3,000-capacity venue called The Roundhouse. Perhaps the best and worst part about the iTunes Festival is that you can’t buy a ticket–you can only win them by entering an online raffle. So enter we did. With the high hopes of winning tickets to Coldplay, Greg and I entered as many times as we could with as many email addresses as we had. But sadly, we did not win any tickets. We saw them together in 2005 and since then, have always wanted to see them again. What a bummer.
But with the practically divine ticket acquiring powers of the Klem family on my side, I bucked the odds and headed to the venue on the day of the concert to see if I could score a pair of standby tickets. I got there around 3:00, when there was a small line of ticket holders and next to it, an equally small line of standby hopefuls. I talked to the security guards to try to get some insider tips, and make some helpful friends, and they advised me to beg any single ticket holders to take me in as their plus one. They said there was absolutely no chance of standby tickets for the concert, considering that 1) it’s Coldplay 2) it’s happening in Coldplay’s backyard and 3) Coldplay’s guest list was somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 people. But I decided to stick around anyway.
Around 5:00, news broke that the guest list had been cut and that opened the possibility of some extra standby tickets. So I got in line, with only three other people allowed in behind me. And then the real waiting started. Thankfully Greg came to join me at this point! They started letting ticket holders in at 6:30, and with that, about 10 people from the front of the standby line. We waited for some kind of indication that the standby capacity would allow us in, but heard nothing. Naturally, we got to talking with our standby friends. One woman lived two hours away and had driven her daugthers, who won tickets, to the show. She was really hoping to get in, as she would have to wait around anyway to drive them home. Another girl had come in from Saudi Arabia just for the concert, and she and her friend made sure they let everyone know how desperate they were to get in. We were lucky to only have traveled two stops on the tube to get there! The girls from Saudi Arabia eventually found single ticket holders who took each of them in, but the mom waited it out with us.
We watched several pairs of ticket holders get turned away because they neglected to bring photo ID with them–a requirement posted on all of the websites related to the festival. One couple had traveled across the country and stayed in a hotel an hour outside the city–where they also left their ID–but they didn’t get in. Another couple had arranged for a babysitter, another pair drove down from Scotland, etc. While we felt a little sorry for them, we knew that with every pair that got denied, our chances of getting in grew stronger.
When 8:00 came around, they stopped letting tickets holders in–they made them wait in a line next to us. We thought for sure they would figure out the numbers and either let us in or at least tell us to go home. That didn’t happen until about 9:00, a full 6 hours after I got there, when they said there was absolutely no chance of standby tickets (and they meant it this time). They even dismantled the guardrails that formed the line we waited in. But still, we didn’t leave.
We could hear the sound of Chris Martin’s voice streaming through the doors when they opened, which was just loads of salt in the wounds. At that point, my patience was really running out, but Greg felt strongly that we should wait it out and see if the situation changed. And wouldn’t you know, right around 9:30, the doors opened, they let in the remaining ticket holders, and our security guard friends made sure we got through the doors as well. You might say God put a smile on my face (c’mon, I had to).
Greg and I ran inside like two giddy schoolchildren, literally screaming and giggling the whole way in total disbelief. It was a short concert, sadly, because they have a hard stop at 11, but it was still a great show!!!
Our view when we first got in... which is also the view from the bar...
Rock on Chris!
Acoustic
And then, of course, there was this:
We found someone holding the set list just after the show, so we confirmed that we only missed the first three songs.
We moved here in February. The weather then was actually much better than we had anticipated, after hearing so many former Londoners list that as their top–and sometimes only–complaint. Then Spring seemed to come early here, and when my mom arrived in April, she was thrilled to have warmer temperatures and more sunshine than she left behind in New Jersey. Flowers were blooming, people were sunning themselves in parks across the city… it was glorious. So Greg and I were riding our high weather horses and acting all smug, thinking that people had exaggerated about the poor weather. It wasn’t so bad – we could handle it! What were they talking about?
Well, now we know. I can’t remember the last time it was warm and/or sunny here. It’s been raining for so many days in a row that I lost count. If you watched the British Open, you know what I’m talking about. This morning, Greg read me the forecast for today. The details have escaped me, but the important bits went something like this:
It’s 54 degrees now. It might get as warm as 65. Oh, and heavy rains starting at 5 p.m.
PS, it’s JULY. I suppose this is the “typical British summer” that everyone talks about. I get it now. Not funny. Go back to being warm and sunny like it was in April!!
We did a lot of traveling in June, mostly apart from each other, and for different purposes. In-depth coverage of some of those trips will follow, but for now, here’s a preview of what we’ve been up to.
June 9: In his NYC food emporium/restaurant warehouse, Eataly, here's Mario Batali wearing his trademark orange Crocs. They matched his orange man-bag quite nicely, to be honest.
Greg meets one of his long-time idols, Ice T. They were also hanging out at the F1 race in Montreal. Unfortunately, neither one of them was wearing their colors. Colors.
June 11: Rihanna and one of Greg's colleagues, David, also at the F1 race in Montreal. She was really excited to get a picture with David.
June 17: That blonde would be Kirsten Dunst, having a cocktail and some popcorn next to our table at the Spice Market in London. I bumped into her later that night in the bathroom at the W bar, and we had an awkward conversation about the hand dryer. It was remarkably strong. We also collaborated with a bartender there to create a new drink, which Greg named “The W Grill,” and is promised to be featured in an upcoming bartender competition!
June 24: Here's Michelle Kwan doing an interview in Athens, Greece. You can't quite tell, but she's wearing a Hilton HHonors shirt!
Yo. Yao. Yo. YAO. Yes, that's Yao Ming (the tall one) with Michelle Kwan and one of Greg's colleagues at the Special Olympics in Athens. Dikembe Mutombo is behind them.
June 28: This is the view from outside center court at Wimbledon, while Sharapova was playing. I didn't see her play, but I did see Kvitova, who eventually won the women's tournament. The other -ova.
There were some other travels before, after, and in between that didn’t involve famous people. But they were really fun, and we have some great pictures! So check back soon for more posts on where we went and what we did.
United Klemdom 