We had planned to do the following on time in the northeast: go to Durham Cathedral on Saturday, then to Edinburgh on Sunday, the Marks & Spencer somewhere in the middle, and go to London with a stopover in York on Monday. Our plans were foiled by two very English things: miners and weather. First the miners: on the day we had planned to go to Durham, the city was hosting the annual Miners’ Gala (which meant the city would be positively mobbed). Second the weather: on Saturday, the weather was very rainy and cold (not a good day to be out and about). So, we decided to drop our plans to go to Scotland, go the outlets on Saturday and to Durham on Sunday.

Saturday, we had a lovely breakfast at the hotel and took a morning constitutional on the beach despite the rain because the English do everything despite the rain. Even though it was really cloudy and kinda rainy, there’s something very nice about walking along the sea, all bundled up one’s hat and coat. We enjoyed walking along the beach and seeing the dogs playing on sand and with each other (they have a special doggy-friendly beach area). Every time we saw a cute dog, we all missed our own dogs a home and felt obliged to tell funny stories about them. (Karen, give poor Henry a hug for me).

Then we got in the car, met the rest of the family at Karen’s dad’s place, and went to the outlet stores. I must say, this was a rather disappointing outlet trip. The M&S outlet left a lot to be desired and didn’t really have any of their really cute stuff. Of course, the exchange rate might have just a bit to do with what I think about the prices, but still the selection was very underwhelming. We did enjoy the Thornton’s Chocolate outlet as one should. The English do know their chocolate, that’s for sure. After all the shopping, we had a nice dinner with Dominic, Karen’s son, at the hotel.

After dinner, we again went round to the pub. This time we went to a much better sort of pub called the Rosedene. The place we had been the night before had a bit of a college icky bar feeling to it, but the Rosedene is a proper pub and was very fun. The place was very crowded and was full of people who had come down to their local for a pint or two. I had a great time talking with various members and friends of Karen’s family. I really like the people in London and everything, but the people in Sunderland are definitely worthy of being called “folks,” if you know what I mean. The only thing I didn't like about hanging out at the pub is the amount of secondhand smoke I inhaled. With all the recent laws passed in Florida prohibiting smoking in bars and restaurants, it’s weird to see anyone smoke in a public place, let alone everyone smoking. I inhaled so much of it that my voice dropped several octaves, and I got, what I like to call, my bedroom voice (sounds a lot like late night love-songs radio dj’s voice). We stayed at the pub until quite late, especially for Nicki and Karen, and went very happily back to our room by the sea.

Before going back to hotel, we stopped at Karen’s brother’s house. Martin is an oil tanker captain and regularly sails to the California, bringing all that super expensive gas to Californians. He’s has a great sense of humor and his wife went to all sorts of trouble for us when we arrived, getting us tea and chocolates. Martin’s wife has two grown daughters from her previous marriage who basically grew up with Martin as their father. The eldest of the girls, *, has a little baby boy, Ellis. We had met all of them the night before at the Rosedene, and, when we arrived at the house, everyone was visiting for Sunday dinner. The little baby, Ellis, was fascinated with my voice. Every time I talked, he turned and looked at me, all sorts of wide-eyed. I think it was my America accent, especially that Southern drawl that comes out when I’m trying to be sociable, that was doing it. The little guy had probably never heard a voice that sounded like that before. I’ve decided that he’s my British boyfriend;-) The poor kid will probably be oddly attracted to American girls from the South once he grows up and won’t know why.

After visiting at Martin’s for much longer than we had intended, largely due a conversation about American politics that was quite a bit of fun, we went for an Indian, as the Brits say. We went to this Indian restaurant that had been recommended to us by Karen’s family. It was pretty much empty, it being a Sunday night, and the food was absolutely divine. I don’t remember what I had, but I do remember that it was just the level of spice to clear out my sinuses and was perfectly wonderful. Funny thing about the end of dinner though – Karen wanted to pay for it, but Nicki didn’t want to let her. I tried signal Karen to just agree with Nicki because they were likely to bring the check as Nicki was going to the toilet, but she didn’t understand what I meant until Nicki had also figured it out. You have to be crafty to pay for Nicki, you know.