The saga of Friday August 9, 2024 in transit from Kingston Upon Thames, England to London, England
After another itchy and sleepless night, I woke up to discover the toilets didn’t work, again. Oh, and the sinks stopped working, too. Water came out, but no one knew when the water would come out, making it a humorous and annoying ordeal to wash dishes. We hadn’t even considered showering with the toilet backed up, and I was feeling as gross as could be and increasingly itchy. Chaim was already working while washing the forgotten bag of laundry at our new favorite laundromat. As had quickly become our routine, the boys and I walked to Mr. G’s boat to use the toilet. A different young woman whom we had never met before was sitting at the desk, but she knew exactly who we were. “Oh, you’re the people with the boat just down there.” We were becoming famous for having toilet troubles.
When I explained our situation, she grew visibly upset on our behalf. With F bombs flying, she urged me to leave the houseboat and demand a refund. I mulled it over for a moment. We were already scheduled to be in Hendon for Shabbat with my friend Emily’s family. Before making a decision, I texted Carine to ask if we could crash at her flat for the last two nights of what would have been our houseboat stay. She didn’t even hesitate. With options available to us and bolstered by a fellow mariner who clearly knew more about houseboat living than I did, I messaged Chaim to let him know we were leaving the houseboat that afternoon. Then, I called Airbnb and informed them of what happened. In a million years, I never thought I’d ever have to send a picture of a backed up toilet to someone, but that’s what I did to get our refund. I felt pretty bad for the person on the receiving end.
The boys finished up their toilet excursion at Mr. G’s boat. After breakfast, which amounted to pan toasted bread and butter, we walked to Kingston Market, which is famous for being one of the oldest market areas in England with records of its use dating back to the 12th century. After buying some much needed fruit, we continued walking around the area. The boys saw a small carnival area and decided they would use their own money to pay the five pounds to jump around in a bouncy house and on a trampoline with a harness. Once they finished tumbling around, we walked back through the market to find a water fountain where we could wash our fruit. We enjoyed our juicy plums and strawberries while sitting in random beach chairs in the center of the square. It was a parenting win by all accounts. Then, the boys were ready for more ice cream. Ever worried about making sure Matanel and Amichai are gaining weight, I obliged.
Eitan recalled passing a gelateria the previous day, so we set off in search of it. We came up empty, but bumped into Chaim just as we were returning to the town center. We bought the gelato from the small shop that had been right there the whole time. Chaim and the boys settled in at a picnic table to work and have screentime while I returned to the houseboat to pack up. Somehow, perhaps because we thought we would be on the boat for a while, all of our stuff was everywhere. It was going to be a long packing job. As I packed, Mr. G. came by to tug our boat to a pumping station again. It was an odd moment of solitude where I realized I was stuck on a boat surrounded by water, wondering what I would do if I had to use the toilet. Luckily, I never found out because Mr. G. returned the boat and me to our original spot within an hour.
Finally, at 5:00PM we were ready to go to Emily’s house. We had planned to take public transportation and then thought better of it when we realized it would take two hours and multiple trains. Instead, we called a taxi, which took about twenty minutes to arrive. The taxis in England that can accommodate a family of six and all of our luggage have two rows facing each other in the back of the car. All our luggage fit under the pull-down seats and in the middle where our legs were. Chaim and I needed some downtime, so we let the boys use their iPads during the ride. We arrived with twenty minutes to spare before Shabbat started and promptly started the shower train. When Amichai and Eitan walked into their bedroom for the weekend, Amichai exclaimed, “Oh my gosh! There are books! So many books! Can I read the books?!” He is a booklover through and through, and reading on a Kindle is fine; for him, though, it’s nothing compared to holding a book and turning the pages. Shai and Matanel were excited that they had a back garden (backyard in American speak) and another child their age to play with them.
Emily was an amazing hostess. She went above and beyond to make us feel like we were home, including texting me multiple times starting three weeks before just to make sure she had food our boys would eat. We hadn’t seen or really spoken to each other in maybe fifteen years but had kept tabs on each other through Facebook. Later, we both shared that we had had some small anxiety over what we would talk about and whether our husbands would get along. Their bromance began as soon as Chaim and Eran realized they had grown up within twenty minutes of each other outside of Boston and had many of the same friends. It was a match made in heaven. We were so grateful to be off the houseboat and with friends in a house with functional water, a working fridge, and, most of all, a toilet that worked.
