The Emotions of Arriving:

We arrived on a Sunday afternoon – no easy task with 17 bags – and spent most of Sunday and Monday trying to adjust to the 8 hour difference, and recover from the hectic sleepless week of packing. Once we pushed ourselves to get out and start looking for apartments on Tuesday, we quickly felt a bit overwhelmed.

I can sum up the feelings by this description:

It felt as if someone had smacked me in the face, punched me in the stomach, and ripped off my socks.



The combinations of:
- jetlag,
-the constant stream of adjustments to everything from the warm mineral water, (I somehow could not find a cold glass of spring water,)
-to the feeling of being a tourist and saying and wearing the wrong things,
-and the shock of seeing our first round of flat lettings felt like a huge shock and weight.

How and why did we give up our sweet house, and fun life in San Francisco to come to this dark place where we may have to live in an unbelievably small flat and choose from things like having either a dining room table or more than one closet.

The apartments are TINY – and the neighborhood in which we wanted to live, Marylebone, is 80% owned by one estate. This man left this estate to his 3 daughters, who then have broken it up and now rent it out. The majority of these apartments are unfurnished. Fun times for us as we just brought our clothes.

I do not want to feel as if I am complaining. I know this will get better – but the shock of it all is daunting. Going through this at times with someone else makes it a bit more difficult but all the better . Alone, I could bury myself in bed, feeling sorry for myself – as a team TJ and take turns telling the other person that it will be OK, that we will be happy here, and that it will have been worth it.

I need to express it, maybe that will help me get it out and quit my bitching:
everything is different – that is amazing and frustrating. I am tired of eating out – everything is ghastly expensive and we don’t get paid in pounds for at least a few more weeks so every dollar we take out immediately turns into fifty cents – my stomach is killing me – I cannot sleep – everyone talks to me, (or my sensitive nature makes me feel like they are talking to me,) like I am either a bit deaf or slow, I don’t know of one person besides my husband that I can call to do anything with – and I don’t know if I’ll like it yet.

Kind of like someone has slapped me in the face, punched me in the stomach and ripped off my socks.

The Emotions of Leaving:

I moved to San Francisco, on January 10th, 1998. Just over 9 years later, it is quite amazing to think of how the city changed for me, during each stage of my life. I came, not knowing anyone, single and almost on a whim, thinking I’d be in the city for only a year or two.


I went from being just out of college, single and set on returning to New York within a year or two “at most”, to dating, meeting groups of friends, to saying goodbye to groups of friends as they moved “back east”, to meeting TJ, and re-discovering the city as a part of a couple, to meet even more dear groups of “couple” friends to then saying goodbye to them one-by-one. One of the simultaneously best and saddest things about San Francisco, is that the majority of people you meet are from other parts of the country. It makes them a bit adventurous, and open to trips up to Napa, or trying a new restaurant. It also can change the city for you as you watch as group after group of friends are called either “back home” from whence they came, or to other opportunities and new adventures.

I’ve lived in the “lower Fillmore”, the Mission, Cow Hollow, Pacific Heights and lastly Bernal Heights. I learned to love living alone. I am envious of my single friends that get to come home from a long day out, make themselves exactly what they want to eat at that moment, (eggs, or avocado on toast, or a decadent piece of fish,) and be still and quiet with themselves. I used to love spending entire weekends by myself…picking a neighborhood on a map, walking there, and discovering it all day, only coming back to the apartment late in the evening – tired and fulfilled. The confidence and satisfaction of creating a life, one that I loved...one that was exactly what I wanted it to be, was a gift I will call on often in this new stage.

Upon arriving in San Francisco, my mother came and stayed with me during my first week- helping me get settled. We did a lot of sight-seeing, and discovering things like the local supermarkets and parks. When it came time for her to leave, I sensed her sadness and a bit of fear leaving me all alone, and I felt a bit of the same dread of what could have been the lonely days to come. I said goodbye to her as she got into the car for the airport – and immediately knew that I had to choose between living in that sadness, or creating a new life where there was no room for it. I allowed myself to cry for only the time it took the elevator to reach my apartment on the 14th floor.

Nine years living away from NY- felt at times like eternity, and at others just a wrinkle of my life. I am proud of living in SF and trying it on myown- and see now what a huge thing it was to move so far away from everything I knew, to a place that was so unknown. I did it on a whim. I know now why- to open my life, to gain confidence in myself, to have more adventures with friends and family up and down the west coast, and to meet TJ.

It was important to me that TJ andI leave San Francisco together. That we “say goodbye” to Gates St., and board the same plane – to the next adventure. I knew when I married him, that our lives would be full, and rich with laughter. I knew not how or where we would go- but I knew that it would not be anything short of spectacular. This is just the beginning.

Snow - Not in Tahoe!

The bad news: We are living in a ground floor studio, corporate housing flat, that's noisy, a bit cold and filled with 17 bags of luggage.



The good news: Fun thing that happened today...it snowed! We bundled up in our hats, scarves and gloves and headed out. The city goes nuts and all trains are delayed. It's beautiful!

First Day of Work = Bonjour!

After arriving on a Sunday - I received word from my company that my first day of work - would take place in Cannes, France. I put aside my sheer exhaustion and boarded the plane.

Not too shabby!

Our last week in San Francisco:

The last week in San Francisco was a constant list of things we needed to do for the move and amazing dinners.

Wednesday night, TJ’s 35th birthday, we had dinner with 6 friends at Kokkari: http://www.kokkari.com/
We had been trying to go there for a long time, as Jon and Mags used to tell us how much they loved it, and what a great place it was for a large group. The food was fantastic, very flavorful Greek. We brought some large-format wines – starting with a magnum of R, and then one of Davis Bynum Pinot Noir, and a Bennet Lane Zinfandel.

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We walked to the restaurant from the hotel, (we checked into it that night, as the packers packed and moved our belongings into storage that day,) the Hotel Vitale. It was fun being sort of tourists in San Francisco- and created a wonderful transition between being in the house and leaving the city.

And our last meal in California was at the one place we had always wanted to go- but could never keep a reservation, The French Laundry. I tried making a reservation for TJ’s birthday, and while out getting lunch for the movers on Wednesday, they called to ask if we wanted to come up that night. Frantically- I tried explaining to them that we had reservations for 8 people that night- were moving to London that week – that it was my husband’s birthday – and please, if there was anything they could do, could we possibly come another night before we left. They randomly had availability for us on Friday night! I don’t know if it was the desperate tone of my voice, or speed-talking that did it.

The experience was elegant and relaxing. 9 courses plus a few extra with some amuse bouche, and a seemingly endless stream of desserts. There was so much food, I actually sighed once I saw the waiter coming with house-made truffles.

My favorite courses were these small cones of salmon tartare, in an ice-cream cone looking sesame crisp; the lobster “mitts”, and a domestic kobe-raised beef. The stemware, plates and amazingly-purposed silver serving pieces created a fantastic table. We peaked into the kitchen, (it was off of the main ‘house’ that had the 3 dining areas, and connected by a service hallway) for awhile through windows outside before we left. It was spectacular to seeing the calm but constant stream of preparations – I watched one chef prepare something in a small silver bowl- and imagined him preparing one sauce, for one dish, for one person – and how many times he must do that each night. And then the next night, it all changes.

A beautiful way to celebrate our last night in San Francisco; we are very lucky.

Arrival

We’re here! We arrived on Sunday afternoon, 17 bags in tow. A little tired, but very excited about starting this adventure in London. We spent part of our first night, last night, in a pub watching Arsenal! (Somehow life is not too different – Sundays watching football.)

Our schedule:
-Hotel until Wednesday.

-Corporate Housing: Wednesday, January 31st through February 28th, at the Nell Gwynn House, in Chelsea. You can get an idea of what the apartments/rooms look like here: http://www.londonservicedapartments.co.uk/economy/nell-gwynn-house.htm. (Rumor has it, they are so small, you can turn the tv in the “living room” off with your big toe from the bedroom.)

-After March 1, we’ll will have found an apartment and will spend the next few weeks looking for one mainly in Marylebone: http://www.marylebonevillage.com/index.cfm/pcms/site.home/.

We are reachable via our current cell phone numbers, (we’ll have to change numbers at some point,) and of course email, - I hope to start writing about this experience and will send a link soon.

The move was filled with many stories of people showing us great kindness. From the moving company going through each of our just-packed boxes looking for the inadvertently packed brand-new laptop, to the wine shipping store staying open after they normally closed as we rushed up to Napa with 15 cases that needed to get to their new home in Florida, to the French Laundry accommodating us as we scrambled and failed to find two other people to join us in last-minute reservations.

We closed the door on the house, thinking of all the wonderful moments we had there, starting with the rehearsal dinner, and ending with both of our parents celebrating Thanksgiving with us – the house, and San Francisco have brought us a lot of joy – and we cannot wait to experience London and the travels we will do from here!

Much love!
-Rachel (and TJ)