"We're getting so much smarter!"

That's been one of our catch phrases here. (We've also come to love the word "rubbish," but I digress.) 

Whenever we realize we've gone the long way or chosen a crap restaurant or otherwise screwed up, we tell each other, "We're getting so much smarter!" 

It's a silly thing, but it keeps us from letting our mistakes feel worse than they are. I mean, if it's just a life lesson, then no harm done, right?

I know this sounds corny, but it really works. My mom even says she teaches this kind of "re-framing" (that's the official name) to her leadership students. So there must be research that backs me up. 

But back to my point, which is that over the course of the trip we've made so many mistakes that we're almost too smart for our own good now. 

So on this eve of our departure, it's time to share some of those smarts for anyone else planning a working vacation. 

There will be work. 

Some days, I couldn't believe how much. Chris had day trips and business dinners. I had deadlines and meetings. At first, I let the busy days frustrate me. "But I'm in London," I'd whine to myself. (And let me tell you, whining makes everything better.) 

Eventually, I got smart enough suck it up and be glad that 

a) We were in London, 

b) People were paying us to be here, and 

c) We actually have a jobs we love.

I also figured out the root of the problem...

Working in your hotel room sucks. 

You think you're saving time by not schlepping your stuff somewhere. But you'll go stir crazy after awhile, and that's not a productive state. Trust me. 

Lobbies and lounges are slightly better, but still pretty crappy. 

Thank Yelp for Timberyard. This place is the best non-office I've ever had. Lots of plugs, password-free wifi, yummy food, caffeine, good tunes and a celebrity siting (hey there, Calista Flockhart). Plus, they bill themselves as a place to work, so no one cares if you sit for hours (and hours). I am really sad to leave this place behind. 

I also found free wifi at a nearby pub (The Harp), a tea shop (yumchaa) and a couple of restaurants (Dishoom, for one). Yay! 

Working at The Harp.

Making the most of your time isn't about running yourself ragged.

When we first got here, I felt like a failure if we weren't out late every night. ("But we're in London.") And poor Chris needs a little more downtime than I do (and way more than I'll admit to needing). So I drove him crazy for awhile pushing us to be out all the time. Let's just say that things got a lot more fun when I calmed myself down and let us enjoy the time however we spent it. 

Likewise, I thought I'd blog a lot more. But I realized that it took up time I'd rather spend doing things and I didn't want it to feel like a chore. So I ditched my guilt over not keeping y'all informed of my every move. (Never fear—I'm still hoping to write an epilogue about gin.) 

But don't just sit around either. 

Walk around. Make the effort to find a new lunch spot instead of going to your standby (unless it's Koshari, which I condone once a week). Step out of your comfort zone. 

If on your last day in London, you realize you haven't had proper fish & chips,
you find the best closest place and go—even if it's by yourself.
Golden Union near Oxford Circus was solid. 

I had Fridays, plenty of lunches, and a couple of nights on my own. So I got pretty good at going solo. Some of my favorite things were the ones that we a pain in the ass to get to (hi there, Thai massage), awkward to do alone (hello, gin tours) or otherwise tricky. 

For one of my solo nights, I waited an hour in line at the theatre for a £15 day ticket for Skylight. It sold out four people ahead of me. So I splurged on the last full-price ticket available only to find out 10 minutes later that Chris would be home that night after all. Returning the ticket would have been easy, but I went ahead with my plan (which gave Chris some extra downtime). 

Totally worth it. 

Waiting for Skylight to start.

Make peace with your phone.

Data is expensive. But you will need it. There will be work emails to check and restaurants to find when your first choice has a 90-minute wait. And you will definitely need directions.

But you won't need your phone as much as you think you do. Facebook can wait until you have wifi, and you don't have to be available every minute of every day. Find the balance that works for you, but err on the side of putting your phone away. There's plenty to look around at besides your screen.

And, lastly, some logistical advice:

Packing 

• I didn't need most of my rain things or very many of my cold weather things. Granted, we were ridiculously lucky with the weather. But a cardigan and my leather jacket would have gotten me through everything, even if the only other things I'd packed were the tanks and t-shirts I wore most. 
• That leather jacket and a zippered totebag were the most two useful things I brought. 
• If a place says they have laundry, ask for details. Our "laundry facility" was one washer and one dryer for the entire hotel. We had to use them at really awkward times.

Directions

• The little blue dot in Google maps will follow you even if your data is turned off. So if you pull up directions when you have wifi, you can follow them without pulling data.

Communications

• Skype has been a godsend on this trip. And it would have been even easier if I'd made sure more people had it installed (and accounts set up) at the home office before I left. 
• Facetime should have been easy, but it mysteriously wouldn't work on my computer. I wish I'd tested these things before I left.
• Double-check that a place has wifi before you order food/drink. Yelp isn't always accurate.  

Dining/Drinking

• Make reservations. Make reservations. Make reservations. In London, it's a must, especially on the weekends. Even a lot of the cocktail bars require you to book ahead. And if a popular restaurant doesn't take reservations, expect to wait in an orderly cue to be seated. Try to be zen about it.  

Okay, that's all for now. On to Barcelona.

Eating our way through London: Part 4

And we just keep eating and eating. This week's recommendations.

Belgo

We met some friends at this Belgian restaurant for beer, frites and so many mussels. Great spot for a hanging out with a group. 

Polpo

A couple of locations around town for these Italian small plates, and the one in Soho was solid. 

Pieminister

Saturday we ventured back to Borough Market on last time and tried a Brittish classic—meat pie. These were light and fresh and definitely recommended. Tender beer braised meat in a flakey crust. Perfect. 

Gujarati Rasol

A few stalls down at Borough, this place served up some fantastic veggie curries. Skip the pre-made apps though — not nearly as good.  

Story Deli

Thank god a friend recommended this. We'd have never found it otherwise. Through an unmarked door off Bethnel Green road, we found an airy space and delicious French-feeling pizzas. Ours had goat cheese, fig jam and arugula (called "rocket" here). Yum. 

Wishbone at Brixton Village

I wish we'd visited Brixton earlier, as I'm sure it would have been a regular destination. The area surrounding the tube station was bursting with Afro-Cuban and hipster stalls, shops and eats. We'd had Wishbone on our list (and their Thai-style fried chicken was awesome!). But looking around, we could have eaten for weeks without leaving or repeating.

Boca di Lupo

One of our tastiest dinners was Italian small (and not-so-small) plates here. The orecchiette with nduja was so incredible that next time I'd be tempted to stick with pastas. The zucchini (courgettes here) was also amazing. 

Pro tip: The well marketed chef's counter is a good view, but those grills are hot-cha. I'd get a regular table next time. 

Dishoom

We tried to eat dinner here twice, but the cue was always too long. Now I can see why. I popped in for lunch and free wifi. Not only did I eat incredibly well, but the also let me sit and work for almost 3 hours. Black daal is their specialty, and it was delicious. And the bowl of greens—grilled broccoli, spinach, and snow peas mixed with spices was a nice alternative to normally heavy Indian dishes. 

Bone Daddies

With quick and delicious ramen, communal tables and an old school heavy metal soundtrack, Bone Daddies felt like it'd be right at home in Austin. Tomato salad was also a winner. 

48ish Hours in Paris

Our weekend in Paris was not what most people would plan. We didn't step foot in a museum. We only saw Notre Dame and Arc de Triomphe from afar. And this was probably the closest we got to the Eiffel Tower.

Instead, we wandered. We ate. We drank. We looked up at buildings and around marchés. 

It was perfect.   

Riding the Rails 

Ah, train travel, where the only worry about bringing a bottle of wine through security is making sure it's a screw top, so you can open it on board. We bought a feast for the journey from Sourced Market in the train station.

See how happy it made us. 

The ride itself was pretty cool too.

Hotel Joyce

Great hotel find on Chris' part — not to pricey, on a quiet street and with one of the friendliest staffs I've ever encountered.

The lobby lounge with free breakfast, sodas and snacks. 

Our room was tiny, but airy and cheerful. 

And the views were pretty great.

This contraption was the strangest hair dryer I've ever encountered. 

Croissant Chasers

One thing topped my Paris to-do list. Carbs. So we tried a bunch of them. And we were not disappointed.

One place ran out, so we had to settle for olive bread. Darn. 

Saturne

This was last-minute find—we just wanted a place with online reservations and good reviews for our first night since we know getting a table in Paris can be tough.

So imagine how nervous we were when we walked in at 8 p.m., and the place was almost empty. But we decided to stick to the plan, and I'm glad we did. By 8:30, the place was packed. And the "surprise" menu was perfect for a couple of non-French speakers. All we had to do was tell the waiter (whose English was excellent) our allergies, and he brought us food. So much food.

And really cool wines. They only serve "natural" wine. From what I can gather, that's organic grapes made into wine with really old methods and no sulfates or preservatives. One of these was an "orange wine," which is a white wine that's produced a bit like a red. I think it was from Slovenia.

Le Bon Marché

We wandered into one of the fancy department stores. 

The had a lot of ostrich displays.

La Grande Épicerie

But really, we were just there to check out the big, fancy supermarket next door. It was like a giant, French version of Central Market. I didn't take too many pictures. But here are a few. Even the pre-made cheese plates look amazing. There was olive oil packaged like giant bottles of cologne. We discovered that Marilyn Manson makes Absinthe. And we drank some amazing grapefruit juice. 

We were also proud to discover that Tex-Mex was the only regional American cuisine represented. Everything else fell under "USA."

Unfortunately, we can't say that Tex Mex was well represented in Paris based on our perusal of two grocery stores (note the Old El Paso, Newman's Own, and some random brand called Amigos) and the fact that we passed a random "Tex Mex" restaurant, confoundingly named "Indiana." This hurt our souls just a little bit. 

At least there was a Chipotle.

Au Passage Restaurant

Saturday night found us at a low-key tapas bar, where we dined far lighter than the night before. Still lots of yum. Clockwise from the big one: ceviche-style fish, radishes and chevre, fresh peas, panna cotta with honeycomb, fresh bread and truffled burrata. 

Experimental Cocktail Club

We don't normally go for chains, but we've made an exception for this trio of unique bars in New York, London, Paris. We can now say we've been to each one. Except for their underlying philosophy and general vibe, you wouldn't even really know they were part of a group. Each one has a different look and menu. 

Bastille Marche

This market makes every farmer's market I've ever been to look puny in comparison. We're talking entire butcher and cheese shops—refrigerated glass display cases and all—relocated to this plaza for the day. Plus gorgeous tomatoes and tiny perfect strawberries and kitchen supplies and clothes and falafel makers and wine vendors. It was crazy and crowded and full of smells and colors.

We made a loop around the entire place before choosing a snack. I'm not even sure what it was called, but it was like a Middle Eastern crepe—basically potato and cheese wrapped in filo dough and griddled. It was 1.50 Euros and one of the tastiest things we ate on the trip. 

Pro-tip: Avoid stands with microwaves.
Look for the guys cooking things up right there.
And always ask for one straight off the griddle. 

From there, we walked to Marché Monge in the Latin Quarter and then to the somewhat more touristy, but quite charming Rue Mouffetard (which Hemingway described in A Moveable Feast as a "wonderful, narrow crowded market street").

We popped into one of the creperies for a snack.
I don't remember which one, but I'm sure it's hard to go wrong.

pâtisserie Sadaharu AOKI

And finally, we found our way a few minutes over to pâtisserie Sadaharu AOKI, where traditional French macarons and chocolates are made with Japanese flavors like matcha, sesame and wasabi. This was our take-home treat, so I can't report on all the flavors yet, but pistachio and yuzu macarons were delightful.

Musée en Plein Air

"The whole city is like a museum." 

— Chris

The weather was gorgeous both days, so we just walked and looked around and walked until we had blisters (you haven't experienced a country until you've been to a pharmacy).

French lawn mower. It's a goat—in the park.

We did walk along the Seine, like everyone else.

We found a fantastic art and design book shop.
Note that the "Eat Me" book has a bite out of each page.

Okay lunch. Adorable jam.

Even in Paris, people embarrass themselves on Segway tours.

I love seeing how American movies get marketed oversees.
"The Other Woman" became "Triple Alliance." These posters were everywhere.

Just made us laugh.

You'll never feel back about your drinking in Paris.

And I love that this guy coordinated his man-purse with his girlfriend's dress.

Buvette

The second American-in-Paris spot we tried, Buvette is the French outpost of a NYC cafe. The food stars aligned just right on this one. Chris had been wanting to try it. We needed a light supper before the train. And it was super close to our hotel—not to mention adorable. We had a ratatouille tartine, a croque monsieur that swapped the ham for mushrooms, carrot salad, a fish rillette and, of course, wine.

Dirty Dick

About a block over from Buvette—and on my to-try list—was Dirty Dick, a relatively new Tiki Bar that felt like stepping into 1960 (even the blenders looked that old). We walked in just after they opened at 6 p.m., so we could catch one last cocktail before the train. The Hawaiian-shirted bartender switched the music to ukulele as soon as we arrived and whipped us up some fantastic rum drinks, which the menu rated for booziness from "teetotalism" to "fucked up." The non-alcoholic drink was appropriately named "betraying yourself."(We did no such thing.)