Quick Trips (Part One): Spreewald, Edinburgh, London

You might remember my mentioning a number of other excursions taken on either side of the Portugal-Sicily fall break. Well, this two-part installment of "Quick Trips" is meant to get you all caught up. Of course, five trips in the space of two posts can hardly do justice to any one of them; but that's the truth of every post I have ever written, so small the record is when compared to its experience. (What might make you imagine we are continually leaping over the moon and poking Jupiter in the eye is precisely what we feel is missing from all these pictures and stories: the ineffable. But we meet here, nevertheless--wondering in opposite directions...) But wait, boys, don't fall asleep already; let's do this...

First up: Spreewald.

Katy, Suzy's sister, had set her sights on this trip around the same time we arrived in Berlin. A charming place only a short train ride from Berlin, Spreewald is popular for two big reasons: picturesque canals

and pickles. The Williams wanted to share it with us, and Lauren, one of our new friends from JFKS, joined us, too. She and I loved the pickles.

Prost! (--I'm telling you, Rebecca Rudolph, these pickles are the best.) What a great time we had, mainly racing around in our kayaks, ramming into each other,

trying not to get crushed and killed by bigger boats,

and picnicking.

Next up, Edinburgh.

Our incomparable niece, The Maggie Foa, who is set to graduate from the University of Edinburgh this year (--that's literally part of the school above), hosted us.

She took us all around,

up a mountain,

down Diagon Alley,

into a comedy club, and, of course, to her school (--she even let me come to one of the classes she is auditing, an ethics class that, for me, was exhilarating). She showed us around campus, in the park, and to her favorite sausage roll and hot chocolate stand.

She even shared her favorite lunch with us.

We tried to get her into Edinburgh Castle, but, for purely superstitious reasons, she refused to let any of us go in.

What are they teaching them at this school? But, never fear, with a flick of her wrist, Suzy (Maggie's evil aunt, who has always tried to do her in), took care of her at her lacrosse match.

(--Maggie, seriously, Suzy feels guilty about your knee). In the end, we all loved Edin-braa (and learned how to pronounce it), and mainly because it was Maggie's world.

Speaking of love and magic, not long after fall break, I went to London to meet Ma (Granny), Dad (Grandpa), and Katie D (Kate Loyle),

which, for me, was like introducing my heart to my soul. Ma, meet Shakespeare.

Dad, meet Dylan Thomas.

All y'all,

meet a subject worthy of your best imaginations, my kid sister.

(By the way, most of these pictures--all the best ones, come courtesy of Kate's long arm and even longer fingers--the Selfie-Queen.) Our time was short, but we attacked London with gusto. Obviously, Westminster Abbey,

Churchill's War-Rooms,

St. Paul's,

even a Christmas market (such as Trafalgar Square can offer, anyway); and then (the icing on top) Les Miserables.

We failed to get Granny to our ancestors (--to William Marshal, in particular), but we did bring her back to her progeny in Berlin,

where we tried to freeze her and Grandpa like generous Scientologists. It was a blur, even such as Ma and Katie have come to call normal, but it was restorative to me. I am so grateful to the three of them for becoming part of our experience here.

Now, these common sites have even more of a DeStefano touch. Thank you, from all of us.