tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79372981165048252902024-03-19T07:33:34.298+00:00*An English Travel Writer*Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.comBlogger516125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-70605204026836702722024-03-18T22:56:00.013+00:002024-03-18T23:18:32.804+00:00St. Paddy, Rain and A Gap in the Hedge. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z7_ZV41gdalIbdRTF1rQpJwJwGbtvQjk4zJhKWm08cRWjdgyu1l7534pt5XqjBxQRlFrBC7cL4ZAiPw3ZiQHsTXXWBkb8JvWKLTeINr1sPE8hF-Y5SAP6KNdBnrgKbuJGsRbw3L9OxpPWWzzTRbiK8khcYKW5sgJoQ-p1Pl8oHbI45bd-RICeidZxuM/s660/paddy%20cake.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="524" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z7_ZV41gdalIbdRTF1rQpJwJwGbtvQjk4zJhKWm08cRWjdgyu1l7534pt5XqjBxQRlFrBC7cL4ZAiPw3ZiQHsTXXWBkb8JvWKLTeINr1sPE8hF-Y5SAP6KNdBnrgKbuJGsRbw3L9OxpPWWzzTRbiK8khcYKW5sgJoQ-p1Pl8oHbI45bd-RICeidZxuM/w508-h640/paddy%20cake.jpg" width="508" /></a></div><p>Happy St Paddy's Day of yesterday! This is the cake I made for a party of some of the other Irish around here. We talked of Irish things, like which is the best island to visit off West Cork, and which is your favourite RTE fails collection on Youtube (<a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=rte+bloopers&oq=rte+bloopers&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOdIBCDI1MDlqMGo3qAIAsAIA&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:33eca796,vid:cHojkRzqsnY,st:0">this is mine) </a> Little K suggested sprinkling gold around the leprechaun and giving him a bottle by his side, a suggestion which suited him very well. Her dad talked of a road sign he had spotted on a road trip across the country to Dublin, which flashed past his car window on a dark and rainy road. It said : "DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE EXCEPT - " </p><p>I can't help wondering what the final word was - do you? </p><p>This story reminded me somehow of Lewis Carroll's <a href="https://www2.open.ac.uk/openlearn/poetryprescription/humpty-dumptys-recitation.html">song for Humpty Dumpty, which also ends in mid phrase, and is equally puzzling. </a> Carroll had some Irish connections and, even though his ancestors were almost entirely from the North of England, his work sometimes seems more Irish than not to me. </p><p>But for me the late Spike Milligan has the most typically Irish approach to comedy; it's quirky, unexpected and iconoclastic, as well as just plain mad. </p><p><iframe frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://youtube.com/embed/TkOAUht3G5o?si=RCc4BztgZjO81HJ_" style="background-image: url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/TkOAUht3G5o/hqdefault.jpg);" width="480"></iframe></p><p>Spike had always fancied having the words "I told you I was ill" carved on his tombstone. But he died in Winchelsea, in East Sussex, just south of London, where jokes on tombstones were frowned upon. And this is what happened. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLKwITkxG4UQe1qCyjSOuG9hEloMlZ9l2hexuBlwWqPJs8J-qwlmcFZxMVeboy2-7DcWH8Qfegf-yHAcbaWFIreS18ic7b8YrgIrQ4Y1Bld3PaikP5E9Jj7DTFjLvihk5eGEPsATCuYHY4VXg3u4F463AHAzCQdwfQDy_DG7gmFHC2KIloRsXDUDiBvuc/s843/Spike.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="311" data-original-width="843" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLKwITkxG4UQe1qCyjSOuG9hEloMlZ9l2hexuBlwWqPJs8J-qwlmcFZxMVeboy2-7DcWH8Qfegf-yHAcbaWFIreS18ic7b8YrgIrQ4Y1Bld3PaikP5E9Jj7DTFjLvihk5eGEPsATCuYHY4VXg3u4F463AHAzCQdwfQDy_DG7gmFHC2KIloRsXDUDiBvuc/w640-h236/Spike.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I know I've been quiet for a while. In fact, my last post was just before Christmas, and around that time I had a mysterious and crippling bout of pain which seems to have been arthritis. I've known I had arthritis for decades; it came on when I was quite young. But it had never hurt much. Then an awful pain came like a bolt from the blue and I even had to eat my meals standing up because it hurt my hip so much to sit down, although thankfully I could lie down to sleep. The only thing that helped was exercise, but it certainly was painful and needed some strong painkillers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The pain gradually went off and now I'm able to sleep without pain medication again. And I hope it doesn't come back.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Like many other parts of the world, England has had a wet and warm spring. When we went to Suffolk a couple of weeks ago, quite a bit of the landscape was under water. We still had a good time - we nearly always do - and I took this photo on a typical bike ride as evening came on. And yes, that's a very large puddle, not a lake. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ROS7Q3_f44ywgLd8ysLrYJcbal-lYur96Z6mzQNc1_4KIXeLM9cLTLuPC4-oeLPVTzqxhH1FxVqN7dx1eWCwVm35p7mLb2Q9bOco0a_K0JI1DjEX2pd4Rp6nRhZCl7To-qoPbMkyJuUai2VIJWR0k6kUam9MEUfDopE0e_gAcg0t5mCayHVkXB16VbQ/s1398/sunset%20near%20fram.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="787" data-original-width="1398" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ROS7Q3_f44ywgLd8ysLrYJcbal-lYur96Z6mzQNc1_4KIXeLM9cLTLuPC4-oeLPVTzqxhH1FxVqN7dx1eWCwVm35p7mLb2Q9bOco0a_K0JI1DjEX2pd4Rp6nRhZCl7To-qoPbMkyJuUai2VIJWR0k6kUam9MEUfDopE0e_gAcg0t5mCayHVkXB16VbQ/w640-h360/sunset%20near%20fram.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We also visited one of our favourite Suffolk ponds, which has been created in the shape of a huge eye that stares out into the heavens. It is usually a wonderful sight, and normally you see the outline and the iris quite clearly as you peep across through the hedge. But this time the rainwater had blurred the eye, and its tears had flowed out so far that you'd hardly have known it was an eye at all. We will be back to see it again in dryer weather! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSxr7oKN-4vW1BRcg4SCt6S8dpRuQuarSfhqkUe5UwIQ-otNfccLdLL9Ns6s5f9Yy2Qxu_tdEkDIzvACtZjmLkoTafOB0DwqVIcOIBc5PVc_vMJx2FE-i8m95g_wngRfCbhB9wZfUwG2merwb61ElEHSdcD-WjfRJuUNr35VceY8AIk7CFiHlL3SY07w/s3105/eye%20field.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1740" data-original-width="3105" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSxr7oKN-4vW1BRcg4SCt6S8dpRuQuarSfhqkUe5UwIQ-otNfccLdLL9Ns6s5f9Yy2Qxu_tdEkDIzvACtZjmLkoTafOB0DwqVIcOIBc5PVc_vMJx2FE-i8m95g_wngRfCbhB9wZfUwG2merwb61ElEHSdcD-WjfRJuUNr35VceY8AIk7CFiHlL3SY07w/w640-h358/eye%20field.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Still, our trip coincided with more sun than they'd had all month, and so we also took the chance to visit Holton Pits. This was until recently an abandoned quarry which was all set to be snapped up for light industrial warehouses. But then the local community decided to take a hand. Read their story<a href="https://holtonpits.org/"> here. </a> I contributed to their appeal, so of course I went to look at the place. I was delighted with it and its twenty acres will be a place to return to as the seasons change. Overgrown quarries can be almost magical sometimes, and this one was no exception. Even at midday in bright sun, this corner seemed full of suggestions and shadows. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy492ypmOsq3yJb96kuS_DXQWgCb2_oFYepELVCJziFlzAjYTMKZOKctfwF8mna4xjwsJGRv6upVMKSpPImzkoutQ1O8wx4xy6RUeoTomcSBw2T03028f63fgURmY6EJvRDaCa3CYoLTdyjdbW-OlDZhN_e92twqeNJiRJnn4NIGaLSXNeuK60ZkHCWIc/s4000/IMG_1458.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy492ypmOsq3yJb96kuS_DXQWgCb2_oFYepELVCJziFlzAjYTMKZOKctfwF8mna4xjwsJGRv6upVMKSpPImzkoutQ1O8wx4xy6RUeoTomcSBw2T03028f63fgURmY6EJvRDaCa3CYoLTdyjdbW-OlDZhN_e92twqeNJiRJnn4NIGaLSXNeuK60ZkHCWIc/w640-h480/IMG_1458.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>And as usual there were strange old cottages to see as we cycled along the narrow lanes and through rather deserted old towns. I wonder what it's like in that room above the archway, don't you? Perhaps you have to crawl through on your hands and knees...?<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gnBSrqsyQ1EyZO86PKsX_lBcqq975kGflUne83s5Pl1CxocpdXF_RIfVzkPKOD_PO4PwQVfDg-YNq98Q8bxUl5BjE_X9qqqoyWdbSTAqIf3uLw5aIpzksBJDLFCR_VuAsFjv3ELy9P2IIir-Adz9P8VhxODANaK1fH47Ij3NzfBe1dh15FuzYnuqfns/s4000/Debenham.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gnBSrqsyQ1EyZO86PKsX_lBcqq975kGflUne83s5Pl1CxocpdXF_RIfVzkPKOD_PO4PwQVfDg-YNq98Q8bxUl5BjE_X9qqqoyWdbSTAqIf3uLw5aIpzksBJDLFCR_VuAsFjv3ELy9P2IIir-Adz9P8VhxODANaK1fH47Ij3NzfBe1dh15FuzYnuqfns/w640-h480/Debenham.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>And it was grand coming across Framlingham Castle, such a surprising thing to see through a gap in the hedge when cycling down a quiet lane. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMD3RzJ6JZJ7xTou3_1ocP-CtyW8F_gXZF6f2piDTsuRqRx3KOqgd_KOSaXUGn1-O9CRBHTrcxPRYkhJHXM4vEZotS0XTEijlLyx70Hd7q9XnSae0l5xxjBkZbgltdjIY_UDlCmAI3SCy1sNCaREnSPFmmSIa5twSzjHNxj01nilZdqdJdnlgnaPrB4zo/s1398/fram%20castle%20evening.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="787" data-original-width="1398" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMD3RzJ6JZJ7xTou3_1ocP-CtyW8F_gXZF6f2piDTsuRqRx3KOqgd_KOSaXUGn1-O9CRBHTrcxPRYkhJHXM4vEZotS0XTEijlLyx70Hd7q9XnSae0l5xxjBkZbgltdjIY_UDlCmAI3SCy1sNCaREnSPFmmSIa5twSzjHNxj01nilZdqdJdnlgnaPrB4zo/w640-h360/fram%20castle%20evening.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>And now it's nearly Easter. I can't believe a quarter of the year is gone already. What have you done in 2024 so far? </div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-44231240058911166862023-12-16T13:15:00.015+00:002023-12-16T18:09:22.714+00:00Happy Blooming Christmas!<p>Looks like we may be spending a few days in Spain over Christmas. I've always wanted to see what they do at Christmastime there. I'm told it involves a lot of pretty lights and singing of traditional songs in the village square, which sounds fine to me! And the weather is very likely be better than the unrelenting grey gloom of London in the last few weeks.</p><p>I'm not complaining about London's weather now, though, because we do need some rain and cold to make the plants grow later. And we had a long and beautiful autumn with more colour than usual. Still, looking at the grey scene outside my window it's hard to believe that less than a month ago this was Regents Park as we cycled through...</p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPIZ7ibH8xY9zKqO0bFVelGN3h8NTEHNtJtd2_XVenmaJo36HvX16HB-yHpT6wF4xCg7nTuIivfZ6uwDah0_cX6_U4Xj4PkHsjW8DC6_wB5eu65F4d3k9xit1HQcJzRdaxuaOECqBSNdhEAPlQDE-vIW5llzlsWnXNJPGnT5qrtzBfm69LTB0OfawzYM/s4000/20231117_120402.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPIZ7ibH8xY9zKqO0bFVelGN3h8NTEHNtJtd2_XVenmaJo36HvX16HB-yHpT6wF4xCg7nTuIivfZ6uwDah0_cX6_U4Xj4PkHsjW8DC6_wB5eu65F4d3k9xit1HQcJzRdaxuaOECqBSNdhEAPlQDE-vIW5llzlsWnXNJPGnT5qrtzBfm69LTB0OfawzYM/w640-h480/20231117_120402.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfl_y9V4qHdreMFqiVUoqLXUNvHa7WK3Ecu-Iw9OHWnyDmPFGePLWce_ANHOg1xRc7LIcUUXRzd029J9-qFGQaMSa7eYLIuHqW4zFmiMomwyodgePTZBCMGLZ8PHmtXjIsCOXggcYHCz_YqeXdFSDS9zD6Q148GbJbz5GeLf_RJvYcyH73edzjrZl8MI/s4000/20231117_114106.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfl_y9V4qHdreMFqiVUoqLXUNvHa7WK3Ecu-Iw9OHWnyDmPFGePLWce_ANHOg1xRc7LIcUUXRzd029J9-qFGQaMSa7eYLIuHqW4zFmiMomwyodgePTZBCMGLZ8PHmtXjIsCOXggcYHCz_YqeXdFSDS9zD6Q148GbJbz5GeLf_RJvYcyH73edzjrZl8MI/w640-h480/20231117_114106.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipt0gXEKpFqdMZ_HcnTbM0AftEIDzJ94emIIezTRX0rIffCKRkJEQT7KeOwbK6Z5pxx6r1V4g7So6y0IHJnBygNoJ0g_xhYeVxVNl29nqFv-P3L8GVE9LvbXWSZEAtIKYT1UFRuFQC9ZCT3T_yki40KuaPsqlJO9Z0awamOHxoPX6_157i-TZ3E07mQ2U/s1881/20231117_121433%20pansy%20close%20up.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1344" data-original-width="1881" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipt0gXEKpFqdMZ_HcnTbM0AftEIDzJ94emIIezTRX0rIffCKRkJEQT7KeOwbK6Z5pxx6r1V4g7So6y0IHJnBygNoJ0g_xhYeVxVNl29nqFv-P3L8GVE9LvbXWSZEAtIKYT1UFRuFQC9ZCT3T_yki40KuaPsqlJO9Z0awamOHxoPX6_157i-TZ3E07mQ2U/w640-h458/20231117_121433%20pansy%20close%20up.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We were on our way to the new and improved National Portrait Gallery, always one of my favourite art museums. It closed for three years for a major revamp, and only reopened this year. I always felt it was fine as it was before, but I was blown away by how much better it seems now. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They've kept the iconic and important pictures of course, such as the vast picture of King George V and his family below. I looked at this for a long time. How lonely they all appeared in that grand echoing room, not really relating to each other, and clearly on display. What a strange way to live. I wonder what they would think about the people they are staring out at, snapping them on their phones in a very different world from the one they knew. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRTmFk74FTB7REZGRD9xGnEIwdaGcXUW7jbnnZGEIpFS2s-T63hCH_Na52I6wXDnqN9kU5tBY_ChgJwjteTzpZTgsQQWa4Ag6rru_hlRwGu1NhhoYGgKdeBMMce3frLq528d9zxGFsEvjAbkCRDSlVs_Cpz_YdI9fcvxkkVI2ov8hss6EYIpFJmfKPTY/s4000/IMG_0243%20George%20V%20and%20family%20P.%20Mary,%20P%20of%20Wales%20camea.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRTmFk74FTB7REZGRD9xGnEIwdaGcXUW7jbnnZGEIpFS2s-T63hCH_Na52I6wXDnqN9kU5tBY_ChgJwjteTzpZTgsQQWa4Ag6rru_hlRwGu1NhhoYGgKdeBMMce3frLq528d9zxGFsEvjAbkCRDSlVs_Cpz_YdI9fcvxkkVI2ov8hss6EYIpFJmfKPTY/w480-h640/IMG_0243%20George%20V%20and%20family%20P.%20Mary,%20P%20of%20Wales%20camea.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm not sorry for the Royals, but I don't envy them either. For some people a life of rigid routine with your time mapped out years in advance, may be fine. You could always enjoy the dressing up and being made to feel important, and I am sure that being extremely rich also isn't too much of a hardship! But the lack of a private life, the relentless demands of other people, the sheer sense of confinement, would send some people crazy. I think I'd be one of them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It seemed that many of the generals and admirals I'd seen in the past were missing - not to mention once-famous and now-unknown aristocrats. Even I, as a history buff, had always hurried past the likes of Sir William Pulteney Pulteney, (below) portayed for his participation in so many colonial wars, where he made so many bad decisions, yet still heaped with honours. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnpgHhJosi5aSTkNdb-1t8-fC40iBFGg62XnHIHCH14kXIbzMXuHIyXWiuVjVSMvLP4epiJK0c26iw8F1m1MYMM3AdpUdoxFEnqAkINFso4Gi3bdVDlSphjBQka_kzAYWoQwieyLOWjboee7_kzlmB0Kj9BskYPoYiF3OBRc28HaArkM6nn0QIOk8I84/s696/william%20pulteney%20pulteney.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="696" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnpgHhJosi5aSTkNdb-1t8-fC40iBFGg62XnHIHCH14kXIbzMXuHIyXWiuVjVSMvLP4epiJK0c26iw8F1m1MYMM3AdpUdoxFEnqAkINFso4Gi3bdVDlSphjBQka_kzAYWoQwieyLOWjboee7_kzlmB0Kj9BskYPoYiF3OBRc28HaArkM6nn0QIOk8I84/s320/william%20pulteney%20pulteney.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was also quite pleased not to have to stare at portraits of quite so many forgotten Mayfair socialites as before!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Instead, the rooms now offer context for the pictures on show. People long ago were as diverse as today, although in different ways - and the artworks on display now help show how duchesses, paupers, acrobats, artists, artisans, tradesmen and common folk of all ages were shown and saw themselves in art. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> There were more women and minorities than there were, too. One of my favourite rooms contained only women's self portraits. Far too many and far too much variety to show here but the one below stuck in my mind. The photographer,<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dorothy_Wilding"> Dorothy Wilding,</a> looks so happy in her work, doesn't she? Not really bothered about what she looks like but what she feels like. All the best photography is like that, I think. I think I'd have liked to meet Dorothy Wilding. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4HXeqX6C34uaV2kF7331tcYblDCJ0-rW0o3zzgf6PJSONcEtiK1VYwzpw2Q2A4GhTwb6DH9laEbTB2_SepvHGPTT-ZkuoCHYz28ly5mpb5c41gPQWEIu5q6McJQ-OA5gpCa726Ts20XvS0JFi8zS3XUW00F5tktFhWoemkZ9ImFLnvkR8BGgcofWoes/s3048/IMG_0214%20Dorothy%20Wilding%20and%20her%20camera.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3048" data-original-width="2478" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4HXeqX6C34uaV2kF7331tcYblDCJ0-rW0o3zzgf6PJSONcEtiK1VYwzpw2Q2A4GhTwb6DH9laEbTB2_SepvHGPTT-ZkuoCHYz28ly5mpb5c41gPQWEIu5q6McJQ-OA5gpCa726Ts20XvS0JFi8zS3XUW00F5tktFhWoemkZ9ImFLnvkR8BGgcofWoes/w520-h640/IMG_0214%20Dorothy%20Wilding%20and%20her%20camera.JPG" width="520" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>And in contrast to the Royal Family in their dim, old palace, this vast, bright painting of the film star Rita Hayworth seems to light up the room. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11u0C-LwMPIhY8iR7IDYirGMnLNTbnk4UD6mYQAO0aplnqbmMbRSFOt48_ZFZ7Dd-JCsy0iuAng_7tyCL7PJhEMPLIZagi0VdErMScJtVET-oaA4J3th4uRygRCD7io18ZC6HP218pDXkJESotPrshv-NnXGrJZPI8GRJ6FzXHXkZkGIDj_6j678XXxU/s4000/IMG_0239%20Rita%20Hayworth.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11u0C-LwMPIhY8iR7IDYirGMnLNTbnk4UD6mYQAO0aplnqbmMbRSFOt48_ZFZ7Dd-JCsy0iuAng_7tyCL7PJhEMPLIZagi0VdErMScJtVET-oaA4J3th4uRygRCD7io18ZC6HP218pDXkJESotPrshv-NnXGrJZPI8GRJ6FzXHXkZkGIDj_6j678XXxU/w480-h640/IMG_0239%20Rita%20Hayworth.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There was a very good display on miniature paintings, showing how jawdroppingly skilled miniature painters were. The part of the image shown below is less than two inches across, and many were even smaller, having been painted with single-hair paintbrushes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpK888XK-7tUW-GUSIs9AWhHx_un-o9thr3W1iqbrcewPJ-DuBwwlM6esQatXYPyAWm6_T0yy6vhslswPoX0YUdVq6zwb5gnOUbnBOLC1kFo35qLfhNwAtU5GOzmMrVt0N2QiQr_ydmRb6q14qPVSI2QFlnZi2ogHEBr8gBd7qFJZdCA6zo3HUls99id0/s3036/tiny%20picture.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2493" data-original-width="3036" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpK888XK-7tUW-GUSIs9AWhHx_un-o9thr3W1iqbrcewPJ-DuBwwlM6esQatXYPyAWm6_T0yy6vhslswPoX0YUdVq6zwb5gnOUbnBOLC1kFo35qLfhNwAtU5GOzmMrVt0N2QiQr_ydmRb6q14qPVSI2QFlnZi2ogHEBr8gBd7qFJZdCA6zo3HUls99id0/w640-h526/tiny%20picture.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was also struck by an extremely lifelike sculpture of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tim_Berners-Lee">Tim Berners-Lee </a>who thought up the idea of the World Wide Web. It's quite incredibly realistic except that it is only about 1/2 human size. At least, I think it is, unless he is a person of severely restricted growth. It's a most compelling and engaging statue, and is placed just before a huge screen on which appear various portraits in the collection, offering a nice variety of backdrops for him. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Incidentally, I wonder why Tim Berners-Lee has not been knighted. If a peerage was good enough for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michelle_Mone,_Baroness_Mone">Michelle Mone</a> and <a href="https://www.thenational.scot/news/23366032.seven-bizarre-boris-johnson-peerage-knighthood-honours-appointments/"> some of the other controversial figures who have been ennobled recently</a>, surely inventing the World Wide Web is worthy of some recognition? )</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZSudIccY_RCDe-vuO_Nk6VcM_vVU0uaYQ03MfVtQ9xOlqNmZsxOUcoNnGC4m94FvRWC1WWXpGALIKJhEIjBUFW_PEAWNkzx9GASI9uacinvxCK9iM5Wg-PpXrsBLgoT-yeKdvJPecc9C5-43_ofNi0QSPvaOhTPhf4UGePSLeA48clzJz2r2LfB_45Q/s1683/IMG_20231117_153659187.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="947" data-original-width="1683" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZSudIccY_RCDe-vuO_Nk6VcM_vVU0uaYQ03MfVtQ9xOlqNmZsxOUcoNnGC4m94FvRWC1WWXpGALIKJhEIjBUFW_PEAWNkzx9GASI9uacinvxCK9iM5Wg-PpXrsBLgoT-yeKdvJPecc9C5-43_ofNi0QSPvaOhTPhf4UGePSLeA48clzJz2r2LfB_45Q/w640-h360/IMG_20231117_153659187.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Below you see Lord Byron's screen, created in decoupage for him by his boxing tutor, of all people. I never knew Byron had a boxing tutor but he was apparently fascinated by prizefighting and prizefighters, and one side of the screen contains only pictures of these. The other side of the screen reflects Byron's other great passion - the theatre - and his favourite actor, Edmund Keen. That is the side in my photograph. The engravings of famous actors are interspersed with reviews and comments cut out of newspapers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Byron was apparently short of money and sold the screen a few years later, which seems a bit ungrateful to his boxing tutor who had clearly spent so much time on making it as a gift. But thankfully it was purchased by a publishers which treasured it for well over a century. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt6QCQKZ8AOsKunfK3M2pyipIEc4ktyfEcZK-7gj7pP8SK8O3IJz37v0sWtUGKvct-CScqfZpeeTUZVI2ZBOhnjw1inF18ZPyCGSIzUbJWG0gA_J2ZguHBA2QwvIFp0agZJ2Y7FEg1TUHPMi29lph7BHoiuhrVFYpnUFuyIB3lIvOh8DpbRH6vQe5wLeA/s1683/IMG_20231117_152139219.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="947" data-original-width="1683" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt6QCQKZ8AOsKunfK3M2pyipIEc4ktyfEcZK-7gj7pP8SK8O3IJz37v0sWtUGKvct-CScqfZpeeTUZVI2ZBOhnjw1inF18ZPyCGSIzUbJWG0gA_J2ZguHBA2QwvIFp0agZJ2Y7FEg1TUHPMi29lph7BHoiuhrVFYpnUFuyIB3lIvOh8DpbRH6vQe5wLeA/w640-h360/IMG_20231117_152139219.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />There are several places to eat in the museum, but I it was getting dark so we just grabbed something at the simple little snack bar outside situated in what I think used to be a ticket kiosk. David Hockney helpfully shows the way. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPo4KjawR3sFUXyk-qs6NFkreV8t3CFZMzQvY9iJajaYO5v5nuWucf9970xBExbmJ2cXpFps4fKdDzVcmNiJhsX9HuM1Q3kglIlHYIgO4rMQT3WXGk0DGtzVz_Lh1gHC98YEnlDlihh6a42GAJX4nzDutL4_9b4YP3GERRvYP6HXijY5fZhghl_qgNFE/s1530/hockney.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="1530" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPo4KjawR3sFUXyk-qs6NFkreV8t3CFZMzQvY9iJajaYO5v5nuWucf9970xBExbmJ2cXpFps4fKdDzVcmNiJhsX9HuM1Q3kglIlHYIgO4rMQT3WXGk0DGtzVz_Lh1gHC98YEnlDlihh6a42GAJX4nzDutL4_9b4YP3GERRvYP6HXijY5fZhghl_qgNFE/w640-h390/hockney.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So now Christmas is rushing upon us! We helped the twins decorate their tree last weekend - the old tree has now grown out of its pot and needs planting out, so they got a nice new potted tree that's about one third of the old one's size. The decorating had hardly started when it became clear that there was <i>no way</i> all the decorations would go on the new tree. Some of the more robust ornaments had to be taken off and put on the old tree, still in its pot outside. They are now cheering up the front garden!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9mdddU5283fCwqysdMk6FFgO6eXqBQbgbv6q4qho9FudVXYzu_C3h-kwGuNEcDj3cbZlc0rCaeiJA3SiKOob0VZ6BwDZ8HsdLgUAhj_-H4TGEgrn10N4pnEk5QxnZdXX20wnPaJN6BktjWK-Pkj7kkfBhv45PBYaDOiWrrjuvR-IaRg8k_SRSGOL828/s468/Caoimhe.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="468" data-original-width="412" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9mdddU5283fCwqysdMk6FFgO6eXqBQbgbv6q4qho9FudVXYzu_C3h-kwGuNEcDj3cbZlc0rCaeiJA3SiKOob0VZ6BwDZ8HsdLgUAhj_-H4TGEgrn10N4pnEk5QxnZdXX20wnPaJN6BktjWK-Pkj7kkfBhv45PBYaDOiWrrjuvR-IaRg8k_SRSGOL828/w564-h640/Caoimhe.jpg" width="564" /></a></div></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">When fully decorated the new little tree looked very cheerful in the corner, and we all watched the traditional Christmas animation "Father Christmas" by Raymond Briggs, and ate mince pies. It's an amusing, gentle little movie which combines two books "Father Christmas" and "Father Christmas Goes on Holiday" which describes how the old fella delivers his presents worldwide, and spends his time enjoying himself off season. His catchphrase is the slang word "blooming" which was widely used in Briggs' childhood (and mine) but isn't heard so much now. It is a mild way of saying "goddam" - a bit like "darned" I suppose, because he is a kindly and highly respectable old gent at heart. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><iframe frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://youtube.com/embed/DDy6rDLMiEk?si=W0o39K3d6jiP-D4F" width="480"></iframe> </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I hope your Christmas preparations are progressing well, and if I don't post again in the next few days please let me wish you a "Happy Blooming Christmas!" too! </div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-86258226467664931502023-11-23T17:51:00.014+00:002023-11-23T20:45:53.757+00:00La Villette Park, Paris - WHAAAAAT?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I saw this strange looking creature the day before I left Paris. <span style="text-align: center;">It is a 17th century tenor cornett shaped like a serpent and with a dragon's head. It is just one of thousands of exhibits in Paris's musical museum, which must surely be one of the best in the world... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9Lc_qysRNnVOOqnotxun865WUr0C-g5_PERxun03lhd8wzFNo5Z7YV7kN6DT_zuNgTgvr6eAqEo1PEN_abqgFW5Wh_c9paYxBE0skOxolTmUlcnodjKV36k8qUbhZVc0mUtsWjBu_TONHAGVLSnWTZXl5UfFjCx7kuhhrhDE8C7wKYClj3S1SgnEogA/s2253/cropped%20dragon%20cornett.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1758" data-original-width="2253" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9Lc_qysRNnVOOqnotxun865WUr0C-g5_PERxun03lhd8wzFNo5Z7YV7kN6DT_zuNgTgvr6eAqEo1PEN_abqgFW5Wh_c9paYxBE0skOxolTmUlcnodjKV36k8qUbhZVc0mUtsWjBu_TONHAGVLSnWTZXl5UfFjCx7kuhhrhDE8C7wKYClj3S1SgnEogA/w640-h500/cropped%20dragon%20cornett.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">...yes, in the world. But I had never heard of it before I went to Paris. It was only when I idly decided to visit La Villette that I discovered that the city of Paris has been assembling a huge musical centre called the Cité de la Musique in the park for about thirty years. Not only the museum but the Paris Conservatoire music school, lots of venues for music in different genres, the huge <span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.parisdigest.com/goingout/zenith.htm">Zénith de Paris</a> auditorium and the striking, f</span>uturistic Philharmonie concert hall are together offering almost every type of music imaginable. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> By any standards it is amazing, so you can imagine my surprise that not one single person I've ever discussed Paris with has ever mentioned it. Maybe I'm not speaking to enough musical people - or enough Parisians, since La Villette park was thronged with people and they all seemed very happy. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXv0TTBCdBY3I7seWPcJ72NxE0tOFoR1elmMlixWA8dzLAkDntEXOvgkhSh4lbuNFZeniO_ftVF_NNINPjazhtOnGFu702fOaJE9NZy0mPGpJpvK9WtvtdAjdhSS1oSHEGNrJMAXNp6FCkim7bRkIasErOsXmuEJjY1gkejhCZp15CuZuPUYP2dpkFco/s3852/20230917_182058.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1833" data-original-width="3852" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXv0TTBCdBY3I7seWPcJ72NxE0tOFoR1elmMlixWA8dzLAkDntEXOvgkhSh4lbuNFZeniO_ftVF_NNINPjazhtOnGFu702fOaJE9NZy0mPGpJpvK9WtvtdAjdhSS1oSHEGNrJMAXNp6FCkim7bRkIasErOsXmuEJjY1gkejhCZp15CuZuPUYP2dpkFco/w640-h304/20230917_182058.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So, I'll tell you a bit, so at least <i>you </i>will know to go there if you're ever in Paris! Above is the Philharmonie concert hall - extremely striking, though not, I'll admit, very beautiful, at least not to me. Alien, blocky and slightly reptilian are the words that spring to mind, because it is clad in steel scales and looks sort of organic. The design of the scales is inspired by an <a href="https://www.wikiart.org/en/m-c-escher/two-birds">interlocking pattern in the style of M.C.Escher</a> which reflect the light in many different ways, and its odd shape offers hundreds of different photo opportunities depending on where you stand. If you're interested in the revolutionary and super-adaptable construction of the Philharmonie, take a look at the <a href="https://www.bouygues-construction.com/en/projet-emblematique/philharmonie-de-paris#:~:text=Opened%20early%20in%202015%2C%20the,B%C3%A2timent%20Ile%2Dde%2DFrance.">builder's website</a>. The acoustics of the main hall are said to be among the world's finest. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As for the musical museum, no description can do it justice. I couldn't absorb it all, but I do remember certain things in particular, like this golden harpsichord with lid decorated in pastoral scenes,...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpoRNUiQvIGlum6ZaDDkUCvr4rxg1cswZg5uIttDHdl2iUWwkUbdtrLG7by7up85nuLCJdxG6THUsQOi1w0D-Bzsgex5nptI3MmaNSXaasBPjwVhSOdRkdsjEKpmIpWI2CRq8rExePTLS8GmOvaVraIHGz85d823mZEjZjw9JOHxaLItO1DPLsb1PpvA/s3990/gold%20harpsichord.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3990" data-original-width="2842" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpoRNUiQvIGlum6ZaDDkUCvr4rxg1cswZg5uIttDHdl2iUWwkUbdtrLG7by7up85nuLCJdxG6THUsQOi1w0D-Bzsgex5nptI3MmaNSXaasBPjwVhSOdRkdsjEKpmIpWI2CRq8rExePTLS8GmOvaVraIHGz85d823mZEjZjw9JOHxaLItO1DPLsb1PpvA/w456-h640/gold%20harpsichord.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>...and several of the musical curiosities, like the dragon headed cornett in the first picture, and a "Bible" organ, or regal, which stood rather incongruously with the 18th century instruments. The regal was a sort of portable organ, popular from about 1500 onwards and probably a bit out of fashion by the time this one was made. It has a distinctive buzzing sound and the bellows of the Bible regal, pumped by a helper, are thought to resemble a large family Bible. I can't find a film of this instrument in action, but <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WehwKxkAFRc">here's a clip of a self-pumping regal</a> in case you're interested in hearing one. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvUK6HDD35hYbstofRgmnQd15k3SEkB2P_3vGbv8smp5rbiCSnZixc-zHSYRTH5i62VXvCjsuetlWlAIM9q9NVqHmGrPM5QCpC60UI6X4y-IhqImV6HDGKvR6e9-SFXTnbENtxi9QmFO6ppGP54wHoBuwN9fhzXBydX2wohLqhSJQly2pIwLmJ9Y0994/s3354/salon%20regals.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3354" data-original-width="2370" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvUK6HDD35hYbstofRgmnQd15k3SEkB2P_3vGbv8smp5rbiCSnZixc-zHSYRTH5i62VXvCjsuetlWlAIM9q9NVqHmGrPM5QCpC60UI6X4y-IhqImV6HDGKvR6e9-SFXTnbENtxi9QmFO6ppGP54wHoBuwN9fhzXBydX2wohLqhSJQly2pIwLmJ9Y0994/w452-h640/salon%20regals.jpg" width="452" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I also liked the museum's explanation about the origins of various types of music, and was fascinated by its display of French revolutionary songs, of which the most famous is of course the national anthem of France, the Marseillaise. </div><div><br /></div><div>What a song that is. I've always thought it's different from other national anthems. Passionate and blood-curdling, with a wonderful tune, it was written to stir emotion, and does it incredibly well. Watch this blurry clip of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIxOl1EraXA">a fine performance by Mireille Mathieu</a>. I'm not French but there are certain politicians I wouldn't like to be near with a pitchfork in my hand, and Mirielle's version of the Marseillaise in my ears... and I'm only half joking. </div><div><div><br /></div><div>It seems that the Marseillaise was controversial from the start. It was banned by the French authorities for quite a lot of the 19th century as being too inflammatory, and only became the national anthem in 1879, after the final Emperor of France had been kicked out and the terrible Siege of Paris had happened. Today, it still stirs unease and controversy, particularly its references to "impure blood" which have been taken up by French racists. Despite all this, I still greatly prefer the Marseillaise to our own national anthem. Britain's "God Save the King" has a plodding, secondhand tune and is all about wishing good luck to your betters in the hope some benefit will rub off onto you. It does its job as a national anthem, of course, but I am glad that the other part of me is Irish, as I definitely prefer the Irish national anthem. <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=irish+national+anthem+tune&oq=irish+&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUqBggAEEUYOzIGCAAQRRg7MgYIARBFGDsyBggCEEUYOTIGCAMQRRhAMgYIBBBFGD0yBggFEEUYPTIGCAYQRRg90gEINzcwMGowajSoAgCwAgA&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:4c8c2341,vid:OetAvMnzO_k,st:0">Amhrán na bhFiann</a> sounds pleasant, almost friendly, even though it is about Ireland's hard won fight for freedom. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>National anthems carry such a weight on them, don't they? What do you think about <i>your</i> national anthem?</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, to get back to the park.....we spent a day and a half there, and as well as seeing the museum we looked around the other musical venues, an exhibition hall, and many shops, cafes and bars in a huge 19th century iron and glass structure which was Paris's main abattoir back in the day.</div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGONKQYFdZlZzc6TWnGsKUoiRSAIhdAKfRhvFYlYPiOuW8tdbMYMhIb61QCZFttm_ziqZqHnevYiOxeYOjb-07LLS6rQGeEPy5r_lpimG2TgVj1YfwuFzHyUXQ3MSpI5We-pMAV62VGmpF4xOTy8LX6jqWS2d5L1Tfe9cDnMvHNH8Ejw21qvFVS2cfA8/s4045/lights%20inside%20the%20hall.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2740" data-original-width="4045" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGONKQYFdZlZzc6TWnGsKUoiRSAIhdAKfRhvFYlYPiOuW8tdbMYMhIb61QCZFttm_ziqZqHnevYiOxeYOjb-07LLS6rQGeEPy5r_lpimG2TgVj1YfwuFzHyUXQ3MSpI5We-pMAV62VGmpF4xOTy8LX6jqWS2d5L1Tfe9cDnMvHNH8Ejw21qvFVS2cfA8/w640-h434/lights%20inside%20the%20hall.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Paris canal runs through the park, and is packed with popular little electric pleasure boats which glide silently to and fro. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOaWSwmZk47kEnKlYKxV2JsV72KRUCkj8G2xh3hDixmCjBBXD8qJFit1FNM8nO-VGOOLDpfxtubTSUDPKV0VbDs67kB6yKRNTQHUMHa5z7mhYEMj_dmv7dYJgEsK-ra9_NWtD2m_99LELOX-0Nd7RbBWVL_vtldeApKdr0-XczTWN9VfS1LiBbzqfgPA/s4000/boats%20in%20parc%20villette.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOaWSwmZk47kEnKlYKxV2JsV72KRUCkj8G2xh3hDixmCjBBXD8qJFit1FNM8nO-VGOOLDpfxtubTSUDPKV0VbDs67kB6yKRNTQHUMHa5z7mhYEMj_dmv7dYJgEsK-ra9_NWtD2m_99LELOX-0Nd7RbBWVL_vtldeApKdr0-XczTWN9VfS1LiBbzqfgPA/w640-h480/boats%20in%20parc%20villette.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As you see above, the weather was grey during much of our visit, but when evening fell, and the lights shone out, the park became more peaceful and relaxed - so long as you could dodge the bikes shooting along the cycle tracks. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsPVXckyZFVVpj78z0J9XzZUJZQXUCks1o6kKs1bIThKtyj83ai-Z8yM_p1j5vxgOKIBBXow5uyfUMK2F4DH9MXEsz6u0wWGT8UsdGY9V7d42Dj_4ZDgQ93qG1Ei5ojXUSJqNJap-Ee7MjK72AUVe-DD_gZHhDx1HTFfv1CwVe1dnylF-JI0oqXpYF_c/s4000/Img_9344.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsPVXckyZFVVpj78z0J9XzZUJZQXUCks1o6kKs1bIThKtyj83ai-Z8yM_p1j5vxgOKIBBXow5uyfUMK2F4DH9MXEsz6u0wWGT8UsdGY9V7d42Dj_4ZDgQ93qG1Ei5ojXUSJqNJap-Ee7MjK72AUVe-DD_gZHhDx1HTFfv1CwVe1dnylF-JI0oqXpYF_c/w640-h480/Img_9344.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">The atmosphere was noticeably multi racial, and very good humoured. As we wandered around we saw local people gathering to play their own music and do their own dances in the pathways and on the grass - a large group of Africans singing with drums and trumpets, then another group of drummers, of several different races. then some Indonesians practising their own elegant style to the sound of a boom box standing by their picnic cloth. We explored a wood full of mirrors (a strange and fascinating place) found a carousel and little fairground, and had fun tracking down bits of a giant sculpture of a deconstructed bike. A giant saddle here, a huge mudguard there, sticking out of the grass and surrounded by picnicking familes and couples lazing about. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We also puzzled over some remarkable playgrounds for the children. Perhaps I should know what the one below is, but I didn't. The kids had been playing some kind of organised game on it, and you can just see the referee's chair in the middle. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilcv_Rb_HUNuU8vgR7BKpRV3J7xQCjNiYU_Jno67iA0matJAzwrOxS5i5lR8gvHdaVqBKMLkko9dYejOD5WYa9kEsHUN-pbXexD_NMVry0J6cj4q1bA__R5TAu2UOnX4L7V1QGULiFsrOUxkJyNJvY4ZaiDq8yUxtTTS_MKcv2Hkms0aisN3nlV3Kpw-g/s4000/Img_9294%20strange%20playground.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilcv_Rb_HUNuU8vgR7BKpRV3J7xQCjNiYU_Jno67iA0matJAzwrOxS5i5lR8gvHdaVqBKMLkko9dYejOD5WYa9kEsHUN-pbXexD_NMVry0J6cj4q1bA__R5TAu2UOnX4L7V1QGULiFsrOUxkJyNJvY4ZaiDq8yUxtTTS_MKcv2Hkms0aisN3nlV3Kpw-g/w640-h480/Img_9294%20strange%20playground.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">On one of the days, a group of stunt cars paid a visit, and drove around very slowly for no apparent reason except to draw crowds - very exciting! (Just in case you're wondering, the car shown below was stationary)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJbvRfROkoAspj4sjn_u3C8RdTfmdASFel_bXjP-f2Swrs3dGNYJnulq__fT6po4N4PHXq8a_isWSGwi5PJrDd_YAthspPPONNa-6MIe8aOybDfuyASPkR4XaF-Dsk4mV_eSBM622k1wWNaA9EgcF4g-Sugw-mD4AAgRt72JXZBOhkJ0d4h405ujNzdk/s998/kid%20and%20carz.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="818" data-original-width="998" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJbvRfROkoAspj4sjn_u3C8RdTfmdASFel_bXjP-f2Swrs3dGNYJnulq__fT6po4N4PHXq8a_isWSGwi5PJrDd_YAthspPPONNa-6MIe8aOybDfuyASPkR4XaF-Dsk4mV_eSBM622k1wWNaA9EgcF4g-Sugw-mD4AAgRt72JXZBOhkJ0d4h405ujNzdk/w640-h524/kid%20and%20carz.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> We didn't see the <span style="text-align: left;">equestrian centre or science museum, and learned that </span><span style="text-align: left;">Géode, the IMAX cinema, was closed indefinitely. But we did find allotments full of veggies and rare breed sheep grazing beneath the trees. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi35Ofbwz2_g-k2HZxpp_zKIsfzVEdU5Xw_SvtPTJGR2LixT31n6Ug0xUiyFCpIGOlVvcdLDWoCeXCeNxE4dej_Mlkx0W0doFbOO9S4QcXgA-21JcFWI4Pr_p5fkcBYJ_hkZG4KwdqQBucQ7X3LzC8Sy7BYc6zmBYDvZxhK0ycAclaFrNje9DiPLpXbICc/s4000/IMG_9439.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi35Ofbwz2_g-k2HZxpp_zKIsfzVEdU5Xw_SvtPTJGR2LixT31n6Ug0xUiyFCpIGOlVvcdLDWoCeXCeNxE4dej_Mlkx0W0doFbOO9S4QcXgA-21JcFWI4Pr_p5fkcBYJ_hkZG4KwdqQBucQ7X3LzC8Sy7BYc6zmBYDvZxhK0ycAclaFrNje9DiPLpXbICc/w640-h480/IMG_9439.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">And there were so many interesting little touches. A display of expressive musical sculptures about how it feels to make music (They weren't easy to photograph, but I hope you can get the idea.) </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ns4wVhrqu1FnCY7x0v53gxhJjWIw5yBYgRD5gcmww8rCydbUjKc80obFcbKTTiBTvllLYC9mRPKEUHHf-Z_c7vBEZmqNJCzDtNBhaoCaOz1CDtugzxH5TmwD2up7jQmYwCeA8nqRIl_BtE2BfZIv7t9hvGX4OIlkCambg8ZgBvSgfkAQuRcP2NHvshU/s1488/all%20the%20wire%20music%20sculptures.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1488" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ns4wVhrqu1FnCY7x0v53gxhJjWIw5yBYgRD5gcmww8rCydbUjKc80obFcbKTTiBTvllLYC9mRPKEUHHf-Z_c7vBEZmqNJCzDtNBhaoCaOz1CDtugzxH5TmwD2up7jQmYwCeA8nqRIl_BtE2BfZIv7t9hvGX4OIlkCambg8ZgBvSgfkAQuRcP2NHvshU/w640-h360/all%20the%20wire%20music%20sculptures.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwKrSMXFjcKMoOSBMDjRvvnk0FbE6fwZPbPXW_5uRuv-I6JdCHo-lGZghK3mzSGZBuhmdzANrpf2HOqchEZKCRITage5ttk29tuR2AXPlig3LAN9bNhtVcAMLwlmpctIoqIpGgqajsmO54ErhUB_aD6vYQdkJEx2rcBw9tKlCItmW7TytMOhKab54R04/s868/wire%20music%20sculpture.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="868" data-original-width="488" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwKrSMXFjcKMoOSBMDjRvvnk0FbE6fwZPbPXW_5uRuv-I6JdCHo-lGZghK3mzSGZBuhmdzANrpf2HOqchEZKCRITage5ttk29tuR2AXPlig3LAN9bNhtVcAMLwlmpctIoqIpGgqajsmO54ErhUB_aD6vYQdkJEx2rcBw9tKlCItmW7TytMOhKab54R04/w360-h640/wire%20music%20sculpture.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span>I looked up La Villette in some Paris tourist literature. It was referred to as "off the beaten track." </span><span>If I had still been travel writing for a living, I'd be wondering why the park isn't promoted more, so it stops being "off the beaten track." It's not <i>that</i> far out of the centre, and there's excellent public transport to its surrounding areas. Admittedly, the neighbourhoods around it seem run down but felt safe enough with pleasant little local shops and cafes and a nice Sunday market intermingled with the fast food joints and scruffy barbers. And there were signs that some parts were going up in the world, attracting artists and other creative people - as well they should, with all that music around. The street art was eye popping, and I was pleased to see several wall paintings celebrating the remarkable </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josephine_Baker">Josephine Baker,</a><span> who lived in Paris for many years and I am sure would have loved the park in every way. </span></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josephine_Baker" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiulxgyKtnlxpkpWmuwj1kE1Fk1CQtNeJyA0fTT4_k8qjOQgo-x4X61SZ3EPpfMRNI2e-aEDiDNtYNg_wrfHEWQnl3a7NZejwx8yeBd5seAIs9hlqEdDwWvYzXWbACvs6grHWQppx72bMXlgp5TUiAnpayaT3imr3XD-x8Hq-4NNuIogxFyDFE6UKx44o/w480-h640/IMG_9499%20Josephine%20baker.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And if these brick pillars interspersed with Lego aren't the work of creatives, I don't know what is. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrC78ltNot3zMGuPks3J1XLeJpoPzdQOvXi2wtmVba33SJOkUt2hm0-qspd7nZt_9_vvW-HX4fHx4xl7lgcPLh0P3MIzJ9e96xY25HKXdF8t3mWjMWCfgBbjS8R5OljSGO0T7pDhQDGgYosyOTRrj-QX_uPNcRdSpd66OpiVlDADepgsN1nk4HSC49tSI/s4000/Img_9493.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrC78ltNot3zMGuPks3J1XLeJpoPzdQOvXi2wtmVba33SJOkUt2hm0-qspd7nZt_9_vvW-HX4fHx4xl7lgcPLh0P3MIzJ9e96xY25HKXdF8t3mWjMWCfgBbjS8R5OljSGO0T7pDhQDGgYosyOTRrj-QX_uPNcRdSpd66OpiVlDADepgsN1nk4HSC49tSI/w640-h480/Img_9493.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />We've been back in London for ages now, but do plan to return to La Villette, to finish touring the music museum and, I hope, attend a concert or two. I won't stay in the same Airbnb that we used, which I am sorry to say was ghastly, but there are cheap chain hotels nearby which have everything you need. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*Oh, and if you would like to hear what a cornett sounds like, please <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQHso0wG_3w">go here on Youtube</a>. For the first 33 seconds of this clip, Alexander Kerschhofer plays the basic sound of a treble cornett. After 33 seconds you start to hear how a cornett sounds when playing in a group, which it was intended to do. I have always liked strange old musical instruments and really look forward to hearing and seeing some more before too long. </div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-48488067538086634412023-10-31T23:15:00.002+00:002023-11-02T08:17:01.341+00:00Happy Halloween! And, at last, Paris<div style="text-align: center;">We don't get many kids knocking on the door around here at Halloween, because, I learned the other day, they all go down the road to St. Johns Wood. It's about a mile from us, and many of the people who live there are American, and they put amounts of time and money into their decorations in a way that hasn't seemed to catch on here. But the main thing, apparently, is that they're far more generous with their sweets. Naturally the local kids have noticed. We haven't had anyone at our door this evening! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I remembered about St Johns Wood and Halloween when T and I cycled along one of its larger roads and suddenly realised that the place looked like a magazine article on how to decorate for Halloween. Serious amounts of money had been spent, I think. Some of the gardens were expensive and elaborate, almost works of art in their way. The one below was very interesting, with skeletons climbing out of the basement and a rather nasty little demon on the left, clutching a pumpkin, among many other things. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7noNFxKCpYwZudW6U4xqJ9JC-oCMdg5H1oEZNYY_TmG7gFFQGZDkAaXJPuWQLvw24yCHgDY3TMG8p0oRkIJGllMaknF6VM-f4hOehL9es36uNGBd3P_KPUWEe-OpiZxUlkmwmDDZu_6gqrRmJdOT4hcjYpUZndwJnE7DcXib9Fgxn0Jc3LhKmWBXH-TA/s4000/skeletons%20emerging.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7noNFxKCpYwZudW6U4xqJ9JC-oCMdg5H1oEZNYY_TmG7gFFQGZDkAaXJPuWQLvw24yCHgDY3TMG8p0oRkIJGllMaknF6VM-f4hOehL9es36uNGBd3P_KPUWEe-OpiZxUlkmwmDDZu_6gqrRmJdOT4hcjYpUZndwJnE7DcXib9Fgxn0Jc3LhKmWBXH-TA/w640-h480/skeletons%20emerging.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Other displays were rather simple: just strings of eyeballs in the hedge.... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZDpgs1GO-2SAlDPoO_lN3nssi39EwwlsD6Q2aCakEAzoAVoTbES_YLi3cenUlQxZ9ru7hseZWQSxxGOKxKKVuzR6SopgDDH3HNanXRZaliWH35NMzayGMGOAFST4gDvE0xnbi5nHyz7zpUN7vM-WkpS3v86kaHLeTF1Hz1YYxbxybqGRgGCN3vjksns/s3328/string%20of%20eyeballs.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2396" data-original-width="3328" height="461" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZDpgs1GO-2SAlDPoO_lN3nssi39EwwlsD6Q2aCakEAzoAVoTbES_YLi3cenUlQxZ9ru7hseZWQSxxGOKxKKVuzR6SopgDDH3HNanXRZaliWH35NMzayGMGOAFST4gDvE0xnbi5nHyz7zpUN7vM-WkpS3v86kaHLeTF1Hz1YYxbxybqGRgGCN3vjksns/w640-h461/string%20of%20eyeballs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Or nicely carved pumpkins, specially the cheeky one on the left. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUdXHbs3FE70zi4msgCHj-DVnoplp2vitBA0W-SCZrLbFS1p0AHZCk-y3vJpKbmcER18D3ywSFJxqMFS7lnc_bnmOWAocLbYO9DGEYhW7W0DGW8BQRaTiJ75AWaky-lEnllb07YEh81A3fX2N8Lp-ZaDeeXjlZYaOFf9Ig_lpCyckazEiNipIy1ZRt04w/s2980/pumpkin%20heads.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1540" data-original-width="2980" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUdXHbs3FE70zi4msgCHj-DVnoplp2vitBA0W-SCZrLbFS1p0AHZCk-y3vJpKbmcER18D3ywSFJxqMFS7lnc_bnmOWAocLbYO9DGEYhW7W0DGW8BQRaTiJ75AWaky-lEnllb07YEh81A3fX2N8Lp-ZaDeeXjlZYaOFf9Ig_lpCyckazEiNipIy1ZRt04w/w640-h330/pumpkin%20heads.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">There was something jolly about these dancing skeletons.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm8CcPHUarH2zuHFplM_Rx6qVmFrtntV027KojFpRkF2deXAtZRkoqKg8t_PKJwdedoDWzJqxIZhRkbRR__RxEAJESA9xI6NkJJgBt4Tc6mlnntx4CF1-mgzDm4hBBDepz3BuKWMF76ZGI9UOtkOfFQOznkhu4zLs8S1d0dq1OFtmhoyV5tR9jVyBIIJw/s3605/skeleton%20hedge.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2910" data-original-width="3605" height="516" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm8CcPHUarH2zuHFplM_Rx6qVmFrtntV027KojFpRkF2deXAtZRkoqKg8t_PKJwdedoDWzJqxIZhRkbRR__RxEAJESA9xI6NkJJgBt4Tc6mlnntx4CF1-mgzDm4hBBDepz3BuKWMF76ZGI9UOtkOfFQOznkhu4zLs8S1d0dq1OFtmhoyV5tR9jVyBIIJw/w640-h516/skeleton%20hedge.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And I really liked these three little ghosts. I had a book when I was a kid with a poem in it about "three little ghosties, sitting on posties, eating hot buttered toasties, " and I thought of that as I imagined these three rushing off to the kitchen to get their toast. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTGKLj6Wvp6zXw-aO4mzxsgAAYCZd3JwrCVxvoW0lgrJhPIFbO8C1jUBJxNjUd36EFcxQi94hYd3VCVg-uXCXJYv4mWA5VN2wm2kzU9OZVlj6RgVe6z3D0Sj2EQlpqIL6lBkAyh4JGlJeAlivG64oEv4fgYKIHWx4Iva0wH8YPRIvM-iNl4btowDeZRo/s2976/3%20ghosts.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2898" data-original-width="2976" height="624" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTGKLj6Wvp6zXw-aO4mzxsgAAYCZd3JwrCVxvoW0lgrJhPIFbO8C1jUBJxNjUd36EFcxQi94hYd3VCVg-uXCXJYv4mWA5VN2wm2kzU9OZVlj6RgVe6z3D0Sj2EQlpqIL6lBkAyh4JGlJeAlivG64oEv4fgYKIHWx4Iva0wH8YPRIvM-iNl4btowDeZRo/w640-h624/3%20ghosts.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Other displays had slightly unnerving details - are those skeleton rats running up the stairs? They look a bit small to be cats, anyway, although I'm no expert. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEget0wfI4GY4C0-5yUbS0jBrv_4AhSgajLbJFLUvLuh0CQLcWcbt_y9MgHw0zMyEU4UJAVGs0IIOJJvxCeic9MKNBA5HtyZNfcI7Jot_rLvuuy3SbZq7qVlH8Pe1Y2YtP-H0faled2lVxdl5AJ12ru14B_Osy2jUnqBQpzplCXa6eGazX5xu2lufGM0LjU/s1174/things%20running%20up%20stairs.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1174" data-original-width="962" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEget0wfI4GY4C0-5yUbS0jBrv_4AhSgajLbJFLUvLuh0CQLcWcbt_y9MgHw0zMyEU4UJAVGs0IIOJJvxCeic9MKNBA5HtyZNfcI7Jot_rLvuuy3SbZq7qVlH8Pe1Y2YtP-H0faled2lVxdl5AJ12ru14B_Osy2jUnqBQpzplCXa6eGazX5xu2lufGM0LjU/w524-h640/things%20running%20up%20stairs.jpg" width="524" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">One or two were downright scary. I wouldn't have fancied passing this at night. ...</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnATN-LfdgTAgYy6jIfOK18TzrhatvIwvDsmXEl6xnScIOg3fgz4-XhKV8q9zBVgSp-DD5Xbs1IY3_-qm8N-zz_Ct4htuC1yz4HdPq9hxqe5fSml9HyX0G5gE6G1FRMYE7tV3dbKr68g69dY7Rzcv_uPI8JhnKhX6wpi6LTbacNAwz5H0wW7Mhh8pLuw/s2088/truly%20scary.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2088" data-original-width="1584" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnATN-LfdgTAgYy6jIfOK18TzrhatvIwvDsmXEl6xnScIOg3fgz4-XhKV8q9zBVgSp-DD5Xbs1IY3_-qm8N-zz_Ct4htuC1yz4HdPq9hxqe5fSml9HyX0G5gE6G1FRMYE7tV3dbKr68g69dY7Rzcv_uPI8JhnKhX6wpi6LTbacNAwz5H0wW7Mhh8pLuw/w486-h640/truly%20scary.jpg" width="486" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Or enjoyed negotiating these fellas waiting right outside the front door. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7TaLI3zO9Wj4az9ICi783yRh2GWph7nHI7YEhtYl-C89JOtAAtuFsc34AmapTI_lIfsLrcYZkI61Xdd2kHqNAcWcc2V7ZyGJysdhnMOkIxLhI_gPeFM_P9zWHpBy7-RUBPaYglFCgPvd3i9ivSIL62rSoalFYgTH-V8xMx17RR2pdxhifUzoxoEL2os8/s3370/group%20of%20spooks%20on%20step.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2735" data-original-width="3370" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7TaLI3zO9Wj4az9ICi783yRh2GWph7nHI7YEhtYl-C89JOtAAtuFsc34AmapTI_lIfsLrcYZkI61Xdd2kHqNAcWcc2V7ZyGJysdhnMOkIxLhI_gPeFM_P9zWHpBy7-RUBPaYglFCgPvd3i9ivSIL62rSoalFYgTH-V8xMx17RR2pdxhifUzoxoEL2os8/w640-h520/group%20of%20spooks%20on%20step.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div> </div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But it was clear that this little skeleton meant no harm at all and was clearly enjoying the whole Halloween experience. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4Rhp-JLap3Yt7RM7XsKO26DVaXg5g8lZauEb47XR73WoM-OnBAVu-ZmiHnDH86dGw4S_ZX33fxJRZMfDh0mvXlJK2I7shyz6PgFEGm0IMbg7CKicQ-HwWk2LbVWS9HXRNgcWeUvD-jueWJTKJx7Cx_At9HPA6daUcrpHQLhJ93qJpafsXRXmUiwBkkI/s706/upside%20down.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="706" data-original-width="694" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4Rhp-JLap3Yt7RM7XsKO26DVaXg5g8lZauEb47XR73WoM-OnBAVu-ZmiHnDH86dGw4S_ZX33fxJRZMfDh0mvXlJK2I7shyz6PgFEGm0IMbg7CKicQ-HwWk2LbVWS9HXRNgcWeUvD-jueWJTKJx7Cx_At9HPA6daUcrpHQLhJ93qJpafsXRXmUiwBkkI/w630-h640/upside%20down.jpg" width="630" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> I hope the sweets lived up to the decorations! </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our trip to Paris seems a long time ago - well, five or six weeks now, but I promised to write about it, and so the rest of this post will be about Paris. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The reason we went was that my American cousin, Charlane, was visiting Provence at the end of the summer. We couldn't get to Provence to join them, but she took the train to Paris a couple of days before they were due to fly back. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was so great to see her. We get on very well, and since this was her first real visit to Paris it meant that we got the chance to see some of the traditional sights and do some traditional "Paris" things of the type we generally skip ...like walking along the banks of the Seine....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBXzvaLt1dRmuu4obHF2sFA10HHwCLrmMh-EhL0AE5Urg3DQl2HhyphenhyphenOvRwOA-zbREBb6ctSuERDIp2546vnYbcMHIuch3MUuKjfY7o88__i7w7nn7qAsM4ZNWErEWxLymUBq5PuLTFJBLtpwDKuBnSSdMD9IyJ87yHHF8rloxr6QyyMEjVf2OiWqVeAZQ/s4080/20230915_161026%20lovely%20pics%20by%20the%20banks%20of%20the%20marne.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2296" data-original-width="4080" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBXzvaLt1dRmuu4obHF2sFA10HHwCLrmMh-EhL0AE5Urg3DQl2HhyphenhyphenOvRwOA-zbREBb6ctSuERDIp2546vnYbcMHIuch3MUuKjfY7o88__i7w7nn7qAsM4ZNWErEWxLymUBq5PuLTFJBLtpwDKuBnSSdMD9IyJ87yHHF8rloxr6QyyMEjVf2OiWqVeAZQ/w640-h360/20230915_161026%20lovely%20pics%20by%20the%20banks%20of%20the%20marne.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">It is such a beautiful river, shining many colours in the sun. We also visited Notre Dame, which is now well on the way to recovery after its devastating fire of 2019.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2eUERKLmotlVAStAlbj778nsLMQI-3NlydQQNzRCVJsiNVYyweavydtwpfvMfvBEKTEUsgrqG_2uzDtZatzAAkVoTEIydP5j0nwEAZydUIavbzP0wZ8HvGgnjnXLGMx-Nk5LOvTuDAHwMMrT7-t0jEeyVDfIqnFXC1zBfTOp4CiWJIE825iY3hna7uuA/s4000/IMG_9204.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2eUERKLmotlVAStAlbj778nsLMQI-3NlydQQNzRCVJsiNVYyweavydtwpfvMfvBEKTEUsgrqG_2uzDtZatzAAkVoTEIydP5j0nwEAZydUIavbzP0wZ8HvGgnjnXLGMx-Nk5LOvTuDAHwMMrT7-t0jEeyVDfIqnFXC1zBfTOp4CiWJIE825iY3hna7uuA/w640-h480/IMG_9204.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Huge crowds were milling around outside, viewing the large and interesting information boards which offered the latest news and information about the restoration. Charlane had watched what she thought was a very good National Geographic show about the fire and the restoration plans, and although it was slightly disappointing not to be able to see much behind the hoardings in real life, we did learn about how to get the latest news online on this <a href="https://www.friendsofnotredamedeparis.org/reconstruction-progress/">very good site</a> (in English as well as French) which is run by the Friends of Notre Dame. If you take a look, you may agree that they're making good progress on this massive task. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am glad to say we got the chance to revisit the Cluny Museum, where I had not been for years. This is Paris's Museum of the Middle Ages, and one of its more recent major acquisitions is a group of ancient stone heads of what was once known as a "gallery of kings" from the facade of Notre Dame. Dating from the 13th century, they were supposed to be representations of the heads of past Kings of France, who were, of course, appointed by God. Naturally, the activists of the French Revolution were not keen on past kings of France, and even less keen on the idea of them being divinely appointed, so during the uprising they hacked all the heads off and threw them away. For many years it was thought that they had been destroyed or used for building-stone. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Imagine everyone's surprise when twenty-two of the heads and lots of other fragments were dug up in a garden about three kilometres away from Notre Dame, in 1977. Nobody had a clue how they had got there. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6q8NhzWjUT34abRzkANAxm-Y8dHc-p_Yiao3ji-4eNVatN5h7rhF-rydLACjHt7z21Bgy9fs2yyhjG3igF8f4A32Pc2w3nTx3pLXT8oaCeVvrmk2tbDVpa10r3s8ECvN8trWEsb4D_P9EQf5V0lctljyN636FCp6yD-jLP4Q4xh6vqHhwU5HwZB_uG0/s4080/20230915_123547%20original%20heads%20from%20Notre%20dame.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3060" data-original-width="4080" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6q8NhzWjUT34abRzkANAxm-Y8dHc-p_Yiao3ji-4eNVatN5h7rhF-rydLACjHt7z21Bgy9fs2yyhjG3igF8f4A32Pc2w3nTx3pLXT8oaCeVvrmk2tbDVpa10r3s8ECvN8trWEsb4D_P9EQf5V0lctljyN636FCp6yD-jLP4Q4xh6vqHhwU5HwZB_uG0/w640-h480/20230915_123547%20original%20heads%20from%20Notre%20dame.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> And it was also a bit late to return them to Notre-Dame. By the time it was restored in the 19th century by Viollet-le-Duc, it had been decided the statues were not, after all, kings of France, but the Kings of Judah. So there was no objection to making some new king statues for Notre-Dame. Some very good new ones were made, and no room was left for the old ones. So they ended up here in Cluny where they have a bright, spacious gallery to themselves. As I wandered round looking and wondering about them, I wished for once that stones really could talk. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We could not be in Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower, even though we didn't have quite enough time to go up it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5KBqHDCAfePYPdx0GkyZHK9MiD64ObmwJ_p_Jbj8yD7Pv8JBOt8s6SAFYmvMRh7nZGhQKGRQQIGYxE86rRqL5LDP0PJnCM2Puw3ahJQUKaQQRAuv8tydpQSca5H1JNt60JS_keWKNCBUpXRE9WBeb-rI53j_7BvFyiPojQkK1BhjZzIfRq6w_Wg0iec/s4080/20230914_174803.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3060" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5KBqHDCAfePYPdx0GkyZHK9MiD64ObmwJ_p_Jbj8yD7Pv8JBOt8s6SAFYmvMRh7nZGhQKGRQQIGYxE86rRqL5LDP0PJnCM2Puw3ahJQUKaQQRAuv8tydpQSca5H1JNt60JS_keWKNCBUpXRE9WBeb-rI53j_7BvFyiPojQkK1BhjZzIfRq6w_Wg0iec/w480-h640/20230914_174803.jpg" width="480" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">#</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was impressive though, with the traffic passing beneath it and the city spread around. Just to add to the glamour, a photographer and stylist were creating wedding photos of a beautiful bride and her groom on the terrace overlooking the tower. I didn't get too close, not wanting to impinge on their pictures of the big day but it was a nice spot to see a bridal pair. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1380" data-original-width="1684" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIfYOblduICUPWEElwHtFLQAfZuvNXhuydm-bnjC3dydIpEJSzO8Ut8Z5PvFexZdWBpT8d36TmvDDLSrkQavpz9x827KY_t79cN7hp84N6eh9QInaY6RuReHUOQN0sysHKQAxFXlherwsuhnDzO6AK6kYR2ocYJpXa_2u1PpgMOBYv0LhEk3_lXUCw9M/w400-h328/wedding%20by%20eiffel.jpg" style="color: #0000ee;" width="400" /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Cluny Museum, by the way, is one of Paris's most interesting museums, at least in my opinion. It's in a large Gothic building in the r<span style="text-align: left;">ue du Sommerard, and is particularly famous for its tapestries, particularly the Lady and the Unicorn which I had seen a couple of times and was very happy to see again. I found the tapestries very hard to photograph - the "Unicorn" room was dimly lit and crowded - and although it was great to be able to go up close and see all the detail, my photos were terrible. So I can't show you my own pictures, but if you'd like to know more, <a href="https://www.musee-moyenage.fr/en/collection/the-lady-and-the-unicorn.html">just go here, to the museum's own website. </a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I also greatly appreciated another chance to see the carved wood misericords in the Cluny. Misericords are carvings under church seats, and usually show mischievous carvings of weird or rustic everyday scenes. Although they seem very odd things to find in a church, they are in many important old churches in France. They're also often found in important English churches too, probably because England was under Normandy's rule for quite a while after 1066, and picked up many French ideas. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Misericord carvings are normally hidden from view on the underside of hinged seats where monks or choirs would sit during particularly long services. Here's just one of the Cluny carvings - a poor woman wheeling her fat, drunken husband home in a wheelbarrow. It must have been a common sight, and the fed-up looking housewife is only too believable. Items like these bring home the reality of life in the past, and I really love them. I'm also very glad I didn't live then. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DwpKgCfyVm_jGwtU36qXJRip5iiqxDiORsm0UQkbXz5z_8m90V8vPX0Z-AE_YoJaE3ukifCinUpk9Sflg6k9xYdLcLn8kSURBEBseZMV4yiDB2HEVKUcveMjVjcQIQMII4XbOkx7HSdkejEpmG2XJEQ8yK0jm6_h7IhWY0s0S7E8ZGBJz6bWRHlBEO0/s4080/20230915_1r%2015302%20misericord,%20wife%20wheeling%20her%20drunken%20husband%20home%20in%20a%20wheelbarrow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2296" data-original-width="4080" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DwpKgCfyVm_jGwtU36qXJRip5iiqxDiORsm0UQkbXz5z_8m90V8vPX0Z-AE_YoJaE3ukifCinUpk9Sflg6k9xYdLcLn8kSURBEBseZMV4yiDB2HEVKUcveMjVjcQIQMII4XbOkx7HSdkejEpmG2XJEQ8yK0jm6_h7IhWY0s0S7E8ZGBJz6bWRHlBEO0/w640-h360/20230915_1r%2015302%20misericord,%20wife%20wheeling%20her%20drunken%20husband%20home%20in%20a%20wheelbarrow.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And of course we found and admired some of the lovely bread and cake shops which you can still find in Paris. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN7uuAzshV6k5QxCi8m3mxK9KscNebG54j2Z6cEjv7NtlyFaUYN_p7C8aP-_XMXKOEVrHiaF8UxfA-g2OV7AM2M9iq6fnA40TcIxVMiWuzzPERGvA6b5dXEFmEug87wXajN4Gvh2EQHH7OKOKKHxsKomd1JfbbtieOxoSweiKGiqygt2we3UX1TSjHznw/s4080/20230916_151135%201920s%20boulangerie%20patisserie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3060" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN7uuAzshV6k5QxCi8m3mxK9KscNebG54j2Z6cEjv7NtlyFaUYN_p7C8aP-_XMXKOEVrHiaF8UxfA-g2OV7AM2M9iq6fnA40TcIxVMiWuzzPERGvA6b5dXEFmEug87wXajN4Gvh2EQHH7OKOKKHxsKomd1JfbbtieOxoSweiKGiqygt2we3UX1TSjHznw/w480-h640/20230916_151135%201920s%20boulangerie%20patisserie.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">One thing we didn't do was fine dining, but Charlane had had some good meals with her friends in Provence, and by the time she went back to America, we'd done so much in such a short time that we didn't really miss the meals we could have had. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">An hour or so before we parted from her, T. had his wallet pickpocketed on the metro. There were constant announcements on the trains to beware of pickpockets, but being big city dwellers we were not much worried. However this particular scam was unusual and clever, and T. drew some conclusions which he will put into effect the next time he visits Paris. First, (a) only bring the cards you definitely need - nothing more irritating than coming by train and then getting your driving license pinched. (b) All money cards and valuables to be kept in a money-belt or neck bag. (c) Rucksacks to be slung over one shoulder and clasped at the front of your body at all times. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">To this might be added (d) don't sit down on public transport. A shame, but apparently as Paris also has a plague of bedbugs, as well as pickpockets, and the critturs supposedly like to hang out in upholstered seats in public places. Luckily we only found out about the bedbug plague after getting back to England, and we didn't encounter any bedbugs during our stay at all. If we had, I daresay we would have paid a visit to the famous Victorian pest-control shop of Julien Aurouze on rue des Halles. This photo was taken on a previous trip to Paris, but the shop is quite famous and it is still there. I hate killing animals, even vermin, but if it becomes really necessary, then this is the place to go.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I must say I'm glad they stopped selling food at Les Halles market, since it was clearly so necessary to have vermin control so handy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5NQxu8HDlRf9Stf2VMjd4mBgd9zN-J5kMDuvneglHLAXISErFpzX22Woq0EW3MnJNXFxfruXXn_CQEjV623KlfHsNYOHoGT5nvnhf35nSwTtvDR9RSI2ngti2Ra_WiihlrWNV8r7TYJrsngkWtnRnzLGIXJDWHwGxD6r6yy_mtjDtE4wNkoyTcV1Mwis/s4000/IMG_6285%20Julien%20Aurouze.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5NQxu8HDlRf9Stf2VMjd4mBgd9zN-J5kMDuvneglHLAXISErFpzX22Woq0EW3MnJNXFxfruXXn_CQEjV623KlfHsNYOHoGT5nvnhf35nSwTtvDR9RSI2ngti2Ra_WiihlrWNV8r7TYJrsngkWtnRnzLGIXJDWHwGxD6r6yy_mtjDtE4wNkoyTcV1Mwis/w640-h480/IMG_6285%20Julien%20Aurouze.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We still had 3 days of our trip left after Charlane's departure, and after a horrible evening trying to stop bank cards and find our way into a Fort-Knox-like Airbnb seemingly run by a robot, things greatly cheered up the next day. I'll try to tell you some of that next time I post, although at this rate, with any luck, I will have returned to Paris for another trip by then!</div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-49369899256511260542023-09-29T11:56:00.009+01:002023-09-29T13:36:23.625+01:00Parliament, Photos and Paris<p> </p><p style="text-align: center;"> <span style="text-align: center;">I thought I'd upload a few photos of what I've been up to lately. I've been pretty busy but mostly nothing interesting, just insurers, banks, dealing with theft, car, things not working, blah blah, all come at once in one horrible flood. So you'll be glad not to have to read about it! </span></p><p style="text-align: center;">However, there have been some nice times, so here are some random pictures of the last month or so. </p><p style="text-align: center;">The photo below was taken from the terrace at the House of Commons. K works in Parliament a few days a week and we had lunch with her there the other day. Parliament is in recess - on holiday - so we didn't see anyone famous but it seemed surprisingly busy inside those hallowed walls - mainly, I think, setting up for conferences. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> T. has worked a lot on the sound reinforcement in both Commons and Lords (it's thanks to him and his mates that the MPs and onlookers can hear everything that's said so clearly.) So he knows the building quite well, but I have only been inside a couple of times before. Photography's not allowed in most places, but you can take pictures on the terrace. Only river views are allowed, which is a pity because the building has just been cleaned, restored and re-gilded and it is the most wonderful sight soaring above and flashing its golden details in the sun. </p><p style="text-align: center;">You must also not show any of the users of the terrace in your picture. But I broke that rule by including the two gulls you can see below. They are enormous and very much users of the terrace - their work is to keep tabs on the plates of chips which diners bring outside. You needed to be vigilant to keep them at bay. </p><p style="text-align: center;">It was lovely weather with warm bright sun and fluffy clouds in the sky, and, with the river running past, we loved chatting with K and eating what I must say was not a very good school-dinner type lunch. And it was, I'll admit, an added bonus not seeing any politicians! </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6z3mJq-hUqOyX2d4pL4k269VU10LYJLv8LsFvxGtP1ZdgmYU7Wj60eobq46t60dxzfSts8-JtgxTH0V-Do9bjF2IyPB8t5-UFGwYqeOw6zKfoijJu4_5cNR19I8nTlUNtU3jM9xFgzXfkMJ-FiENsjHbPW0sudufEIvOVTc7aA-jRflfWoefGUk0FKpo/s1528/IMG_20230925_125452222.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="859" data-original-width="1528" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6z3mJq-hUqOyX2d4pL4k269VU10LYJLv8LsFvxGtP1ZdgmYU7Wj60eobq46t60dxzfSts8-JtgxTH0V-Do9bjF2IyPB8t5-UFGwYqeOw6zKfoijJu4_5cNR19I8nTlUNtU3jM9xFgzXfkMJ-FiENsjHbPW0sudufEIvOVTc7aA-jRflfWoefGUk0FKpo/w640-h360/IMG_20230925_125452222.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;">Yesterday an old friend, a psychologist, visited from America and we went to see the Freud Museum in Hampstead. This is the house where Sigmund Freud came to escape the Nazi persecution of the Jews in the 1930s. It was extremely interesting, and although Freud only lived for another year or two after arriving, his daughter Anna continued to live in the house for the rest of her life, and worked hard on her practice there, which involved much pioneering work with children. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Nazis demanded a large "tax" to allow Freud to ship his personal possessions to London, but this was paid by a wellwisher, and so his fine collection of antiquities and many personal items are also in the house. Anna kept his study exactly the same as it had been during his lifetime. This is the famous sofa, with Freud's chair behind it out of the patient's sightline. Although he was ill, he did see a few patients in London. Apparently he let his patients talk up to ten hours uninterrupted, but Freud did not take notes, he merely listened with great concentration. What a memory he must have had. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBsxO_UkL9hRTZIT1JMClMJR2SZAYUJxky5qn-dC163_VRYjeiu_sWB16Cfc8RLZ2vhoTztUWcXcyuf10weLbNG_3MW8CYWpooKHWHKLC-w-9ytAXJ01tAl-EoF3NPeb131NdpW7qR38xMxxCInNIq01s_vm4gTuG1gAj26WvWxPSJGnkJySeIuTZawE/s1410/couch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1410" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBsxO_UkL9hRTZIT1JMClMJR2SZAYUJxky5qn-dC163_VRYjeiu_sWB16Cfc8RLZ2vhoTztUWcXcyuf10weLbNG_3MW8CYWpooKHWHKLC-w-9ytAXJ01tAl-EoF3NPeb131NdpW7qR38xMxxCInNIq01s_vm4gTuG1gAj26WvWxPSJGnkJySeIuTZawE/w640-h422/couch.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">He would, while listening, let his eyes rove over the antiquities,which he felt told him a lot about how the human mind worked. Here are some of the things he would look at, and there were many more outside camera range. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXjkUn9SKphHysqHAhQsx9fOCI1GzN_7fLsIVfwSe-ckxbsskv-wI7xkTscMSjfONIAt03JMj39kKmCnkea0X1M9o5hMCWX_ANWnTYLI5oBqrNu9A2kcjQ3Jn4JPjXzMjLcLaWzbTlZcFOlx9LCVQ8J0keD6GJrBEIQq5HQR5tasnEsDsMtSuOXRrdlc/s1253/antiquities%20cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="728" data-original-width="1253" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXjkUn9SKphHysqHAhQsx9fOCI1GzN_7fLsIVfwSe-ckxbsskv-wI7xkTscMSjfONIAt03JMj39kKmCnkea0X1M9o5hMCWX_ANWnTYLI5oBqrNu9A2kcjQ3Jn4JPjXzMjLcLaWzbTlZcFOlx9LCVQ8J0keD6GJrBEIQq5HQR5tasnEsDsMtSuOXRrdlc/w640-h372/antiquities%20cropped.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: left;">One of the unexpected curiosities of the museum was an autobiography of Marilyn Monroe,who was interested in Freud's ideas and actually visited Anna Freud at the house while filming in London in 1956. </span></div><div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">We also finally got around to visiting the newish photography gallery at the V & A museum. The picture selection changes from time to time, but I was pleased to see some originals by Cartier-Bresson, my very favourite photographer of all. The picture of the little boys below would be wonderful even if their running forms and hoop were all that there was. But look closer, and see the elaborate hearse in the background. Suddenly the photo contrasts the heedless joy of youth with the end of everything, all seen in bright sunshine and shadow. </div><div><br /></div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5Bf4tEwnggVZZSx789cmHMy7fW_6hzTjENbL3GhOo-uC-BDeJrNQZJ7orKV01LojBbtyErM6GjhUJY0ACVhJks9bSAhZqW6l-8fq7f_hT7t3op-dpghGj0jzPtHXOu48NGm4ZhyphenhyphenYYJT-WLDl7C0R_kBe3jV_8A47YmDwin7TTDdw_SJho0ZTdGLEVh4/s3768/IMG_8078%20cartier%20bresson%20kids%20with%20bike%20wheel.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3768" data-original-width="2928" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5Bf4tEwnggVZZSx789cmHMy7fW_6hzTjENbL3GhOo-uC-BDeJrNQZJ7orKV01LojBbtyErM6GjhUJY0ACVhJks9bSAhZqW6l-8fq7f_hT7t3op-dpghGj0jzPtHXOu48NGm4ZhyphenhyphenYYJT-WLDl7C0R_kBe3jV_8A47YmDwin7TTDdw_SJho0ZTdGLEVh4/w498-h640/IMG_8078%20cartier%20bresson%20kids%20with%20bike%20wheel.JPG" width="498" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The gallery also had a display of autochromes, (early colour photos) dating from before 1920. The autochrome photographic process was slow and over-elaborate, so eventually failed, as explained on <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autochrome_Lumi%C3%A8re">this Wikipedia page. </a> But the autochromes that have survived are exciting, because they have an immediacy that computer-colorized photos cannot have. A good autochrome can show you what was really there, which can at times be startling and unexpected to our modern eyes. Peoples' clothes are often far brighter than I expected them to be, and this gives a much more modern and "normal" look to many of the group pictures. Some autochromes, <a href="https://blog.scienceandmediamuseum.org.uk/christina-mervyn-o-gorman-1913-photograph-girl-in-red/">such as those of the beautiful Christina, </a>taken over a 100 years ago, would be exceptionally lovely even if taken today. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://allthatsinteresting.com/albert-kahn-archives-of-the-planet">Here is another link </a>displaying autochromes from a collection on the outskirts of Paris, and a little bit about the very interesting owner of the collection, banker Albert Kahn. He was a thoughtful and cultured man, and his personal interests included internationalism and garden design. His house and garden still exist to the west of the city, in Boulogne-Billancourt, and you can visit. I wished I had known about him only 10 days ago, because we were in Paris then. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Still, we hope to return, despite quite a few glitches in our Parisian trip, so I hope to visit Kahn's house then. And I will write about our most recent Parisian escapades in my next post. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So..... <i>à bientôt!</i></div><div><p><br /></p></div></div></div></div></div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-65120883842251936422023-08-27T15:47:00.003+01:002023-08-28T21:05:20.833+01:00Two Fur Coats in Bantry House... and a Colourful Bathroom. <p style="text-align: center;">As I promised, here's some more from my trip to West Cork in Ireland. One of my favourite trips was to Bantry House. I'd wanted to see it for years, after K visited it and highly recommended it as "a bit crazy". So T and I drove out there one rather drizzly day. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Here's the house, distantly viewed against the Bantry bay's foggy backdrop. </span><span> Can you make out the hills on the other side? </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3RWhQAfjHgkN7x2uZ8T4EieDAbRdPeUotMr6fkjocep9w6Tjy3lAqMyAd4xuOLKlqYVm8G5k8kJ1P_8lfbZ_dMAJazHknTAnmhPncwpgeyvlYlrC-BrsTPDLTbJbzy-zG3QXoTohbN-AZuALMWGB0W288GfKesWnetMblF_wQnaIopHOo4uPqmCW36o/s4000/bantry%20house.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3RWhQAfjHgkN7x2uZ8T4EieDAbRdPeUotMr6fkjocep9w6Tjy3lAqMyAd4xuOLKlqYVm8G5k8kJ1P_8lfbZ_dMAJazHknTAnmhPncwpgeyvlYlrC-BrsTPDLTbJbzy-zG3QXoTohbN-AZuALMWGB0W288GfKesWnetMblF_wQnaIopHOo4uPqmCW36o/w640-h480/bantry%20house.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Bantry House looks very like an English country house, built in English style by the Earls of Bantry, who were English earls. But of course it is not English. When Ireland became a republic in 1922, many of the English gentry's mansions had had a pretty rough time. But more of that later. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotybcF5JPN-qwyiwW8uxsgukxV1Hl-lhqnHA6ynwAluERfjyibw64JflZ172iAxZV49ZZkdF3S748boo3tzxfsOV4cPbXXNye773mFgqgT7coaUvvlr8sIG8WlSJ35s_kZLM9m_i-j2Auc1fSaWEjk7JEZUUXJbsGYSI4L2kzMm0XFK4rz9jAlKG2swM/s3624/Bantry%20long%20view%20of%20house%20from%20the%20back.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2772" data-original-width="3624" height="490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotybcF5JPN-qwyiwW8uxsgukxV1Hl-lhqnHA6ynwAluERfjyibw64JflZ172iAxZV49ZZkdF3S748boo3tzxfsOV4cPbXXNye773mFgqgT7coaUvvlr8sIG8WlSJ35s_kZLM9m_i-j2Auc1fSaWEjk7JEZUUXJbsGYSI4L2kzMm0XFK4rz9jAlKG2swM/w640-h490/Bantry%20long%20view%20of%20house%20from%20the%20back.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">And here's a more formal view, backed by the tall cupolas of the house's two sets of stables in the background on either side. To have a set of huge matching stables gives an idea of just how much money was flying around in this place in the nineteenth century. </p><p style="text-align: center;">In those days, Bantry House was known for its contents - the Second Earl's astounding collection of fine art and antiques. In its heyday, too, there were 24 gardeners, making sure that the gardens and grounds surrounding the house were worthy of the stupendous contents. </p><p style="text-align: center;">But the title was extinguished in 1899 when the last Earl died without a son and heir, and the twentieth century brought a very different world. Independence was on the horizon for Ireland, after many centuries of occupation. It was finally achieved in 1922, and before that, in a spiral of upheaval, the British gentry's houses were quite often burned down by Irish republicans who didn't see why they were needed by anyone at all. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Even after 1922, and even with the houses that survived, there were problems. The Great War of 1914-18 changed society radically. After it ended, servants became harder to find, big landowners were hit by savage taxes, and everyone involved with grand mansions began to realise the palmy days were coming to an end. Many big houses, both in England and Ireland, were abandoned or demolished for purely financial reasons.. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Bantry House, though, struggled through all this. This was probably largely thanks to a woman called Arethusa Leigh-White (below) who married the house's owner, Edward.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbIJDp3XfznUSyF6Zsq5wZEngSzhi4-j84AtxFAet_4bZG7DDAI-6LmDwA9aYXEMTWgJ_r5ajGpuDrlc_DvauPUP-ZmPOwup7ed_4zzAIjHKrMcaiKyT_3o3v5QnUjesHKFhmqEhiqE7ypYou3BeTNaJSH9wnJjC040MBngOkTsYxxhdMmg4nnb95Vvg/s792/Arethusa%20Leigh%20White.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="792" data-original-width="364" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbIJDp3XfznUSyF6Zsq5wZEngSzhi4-j84AtxFAet_4bZG7DDAI-6LmDwA9aYXEMTWgJ_r5ajGpuDrlc_DvauPUP-ZmPOwup7ed_4zzAIjHKrMcaiKyT_3o3v5QnUjesHKFhmqEhiqE7ypYou3BeTNaJSH9wnJjC040MBngOkTsYxxhdMmg4nnb95Vvg/w294-h640/Arethusa%20Leigh%20White.jpg" width="294" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She was a public spirited and compassionate woman, who when chaos gripped Ireland, offered to put Bantry House at the disposal of the local Sisters of Mercy nuns to use as a hospital for the local poor and wounded, including all those who had fought in the independence battles, no matter what their political views or circumstances. As philanthropists, she and her husband were also more popular with the local people than many an English landowner. The picture above, the only image of Arethusa I could find online, is captioned with information about her dedication to the Girl Guides/Girl Scouts movement and its work for internationalism and cooperation. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bantry's fate might have been different if Arethusa's husband had not died relatively young. The biggest disaster in Bantry's existence, though, occurred after he died and his eldest daughter inherited the estate. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfjkCzCHycITh9esfgwdIyWGF8AGAWmsQwtDMBuqEGPn5_-slL5QgLqHZIe4F8R3wMQvTj4mWb6U-cpsY5NmdRr6GSnnbh7aAw5kGmdKYQgZIycpTuowZ8n1sUfHwByTCwNl0lE3PCDLzGNVWvTyaatWYcb0N5FncwO3Ace8pvSsBfLqBJVnQX-eYqjI/s870/clodagh%20leigh%20white.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="870" data-original-width="636" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfjkCzCHycITh9esfgwdIyWGF8AGAWmsQwtDMBuqEGPn5_-slL5QgLqHZIe4F8R3wMQvTj4mWb6U-cpsY5NmdRr6GSnnbh7aAw5kGmdKYQgZIycpTuowZ8n1sUfHwByTCwNl0lE3PCDLzGNVWvTyaatWYcb0N5FncwO3Ace8pvSsBfLqBJVnQX-eYqjI/w293-h400/clodagh%20leigh%20white.jpg" width="293" /></a></div><br /> Clodagh Leigh-White, (above) was only a teenager when she inherited, so was only able to take control of the house when she reached the age of 21, in 1926. She seems to have been a pleasant lady, but not the brightest diamond in the diadem. She began selling off the house's contents to keep going, and also opened it to the public in 1946, but seemed to have no real idea of what to do apart from keep selling things. Unfortunately, it apparently never occurred to her to learn about the treasures she was selling, let alone get an idea of what they were worth. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> The catastrophe came in 1956, when she sold a priceless set of Renaissance paintings by F & G Guardi for £300 to a sweet talking sharpster from Dublin. The value of this intact set of eight huge paintings, even in those days, was gigantic, and today it would be truly inestimable, running into tens of millions of pounds. What a difference even a fraction of that money would make to the house now. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> From all accounts, Clodagh did not fully realise what she'd done. She was apparently pretty pleased with herself for making the sale, and went on a cruise, or so I was told by one of the guides working at the house. Towards the end of her life, she was reduced to living in the vast library (part of which is shown below) wearing two fur coats to keep warm. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHEQS-k7Fuig-SHrkQa8BkAvvUBHXfbCio_X58SyZsRWMsLosfvMssfTTF98LNBDq1vxQmh1PBgdexoSrTWG9q4LITzXeencUb-_QHZv3mQbt4d0xkJ8_gZhTDiDJ5Sn3NoP_LM_xZZyJGL7TiOk5YlsNh0opF1B-oF7kZS2QfaBTSWuK_edj3eo3lR3I/s4000/IMG_8632%20view%20of%20100%20steps%20from%20library.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHEQS-k7Fuig-SHrkQa8BkAvvUBHXfbCio_X58SyZsRWMsLosfvMssfTTF98LNBDq1vxQmh1PBgdexoSrTWG9q4LITzXeencUb-_QHZv3mQbt4d0xkJ8_gZhTDiDJ5Sn3NoP_LM_xZZyJGL7TiOk5YlsNh0opF1B-oF7kZS2QfaBTSWuK_edj3eo3lR3I/w640-h480/IMG_8632%20view%20of%20100%20steps%20from%20library.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div><p style="text-align: center;"> The library is a gigantic room, and the rooms above had to be rebuilt so its ceiling could be as toweringly high as the earl required to suit his megalomaniac tastes. This set of doors used to lead into a magnificent glass conservatory, now vanished, and it now offers an unimpeded view of 100 steps cut into the hill. Only the earl, his family and their guests were allowed to use it (and they would have needed to be reasonably fit to do so) but the view from the top was really spectacular. Here it is in the house's heyday, with the conservatory in place. </p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYEeHQLzfOjd9ycnQ3HQCEfXJA9zQ5y_miz-poypf_u27Kc1Fd8SFPCMG94WqrCG22sRufIVFQ3OXCrkqU8XwUJrpp_hiJ-LSK_ii7eQinbWFtgJZgnW4WvRh3LJ6LOHEzqFGXkquEw8SLojuGfUMoKvN9SVkjja96EpKKpxsgqjrb85wV9EobjAz21NY/s798/old%20bantry%20house.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="798" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYEeHQLzfOjd9ycnQ3HQCEfXJA9zQ5y_miz-poypf_u27Kc1Fd8SFPCMG94WqrCG22sRufIVFQ3OXCrkqU8XwUJrpp_hiJ-LSK_ii7eQinbWFtgJZgnW4WvRh3LJ6LOHEzqFGXkquEw8SLojuGfUMoKvN9SVkjja96EpKKpxsgqjrb85wV9EobjAz21NY/w640-h462/old%20bantry%20house.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> Now, Bantry House relies on part time or volunteer gardeners. Inevitably the grounds lack the formal perfection of old, but recent owners have harnessed several years of EU-funded restoration, and with dedicated volunteer helpers and clever economising they have maintained a charming and creative setting for the house. <p></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTw6hhSGWLVk_fgha-Ffdjj0PgShQubfb1lJibMzlfubby9ZYAyF0RpJ-s1-XII6v3SR2yg3OF22VGJl-pzMr1r09RmOakN5eQ9qhNIfGhfLaJKkkxmDqdgvgK8eVuG577osCYe5nnFZbTPhVeyVi9Ybg9ptkD-WLwZwMHbocqhRwfZ2KNUmqWqC21_0g/s4272/P2210538.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTw6hhSGWLVk_fgha-Ffdjj0PgShQubfb1lJibMzlfubby9ZYAyF0RpJ-s1-XII6v3SR2yg3OF22VGJl-pzMr1r09RmOakN5eQ9qhNIfGhfLaJKkkxmDqdgvgK8eVuG577osCYe5nnFZbTPhVeyVi9Ybg9ptkD-WLwZwMHbocqhRwfZ2KNUmqWqC21_0g/w640-h428/P2210538.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ab03rKcVveYjj_ZEzPKGloGMFQYTcicgBOjUYxGz1k_KxpUq3GPFH8Q8RlszrcbcIbwRD8WL6Z_MRJbysMHCedZKfNoS5X7Pj1hrzJpx5msc7uCwlEoviCfdeAgqWagx18R3sweRqFBsI932bRaBHZetR9_nrnR3VYIxEdwzCBjnSDONgyYo07Hxrco/s4000/IMG_8505%20view%20over%20parterre%20and%20balcony.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ab03rKcVveYjj_ZEzPKGloGMFQYTcicgBOjUYxGz1k_KxpUq3GPFH8Q8RlszrcbcIbwRD8WL6Z_MRJbysMHCedZKfNoS5X7Pj1hrzJpx5msc7uCwlEoviCfdeAgqWagx18R3sweRqFBsI932bRaBHZetR9_nrnR3VYIxEdwzCBjnSDONgyYo07Hxrco/w640-h480/IMG_8505%20view%20over%20parterre%20and%20balcony.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Arethusa's descendants still own Bantry House, and are still working hard to keep it going. They have tried various things. You might like to watch the <span style="text-align: left;">Channel 4 </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2673&v=vDDk8PNOafw&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2Fsearch%3Fq%3Dwho%2Bsold%2Boff%2Bthe%2Btreasures%2Bof%2Bbantry%2Bhouse%26oq%3Dwho%2Bsold%2Boff%2Bthe%2Btreasures%2Bof%2Bbantry%2Bhouse%26gs_lcrp&source_ve_path=MjM4NTE&feature=emb_title" style="text-align: left;">programme about Bantry in its "Country House Rescue" series in 2012 on Youtube </a><span style="text-align: left;">to see the kind of challenges they have faced. The solutions put forward in the programme were not really practical, though, and by 2014 the Leigh-Whites had decided to sell the entire contents of the house, and were pleading for help. </span> I<span style="text-align: left;">t turned out that the auctioneers didn't have the right licence to sell the items, and somehow (I never found out quite how) the sale was avoided and the house has been keeping going partly as a wedding and event venue, and partly on other schemes which capitalise on its setting. Money is still tight, though, and some areas of the house are still not open to the public because they are too dilapidated.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br style="text-align: center;" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What I liked about the place, apart from its seat-of-the-pants recent history, was the welcoming and - yes - happy atmosphere. One of the family members now helps out doing the gardening and running the tearoom in part of the old kitchen. The food is simple, but very good, and I liked the notice warning customers about the family dogs which may appear hoping for food. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzPpzgWKUmZvGemBRt-JmChkpD35Z1QeCOenAaT1v2sB5vOUXgrhl1q9SLogtJxuyAi7YwlPg379--uPQj862VUdTdUGKzwGKg1eYR-EEGj_kOU42lQGGBtHwPEZvY_yR905N7CymBmdjNuIseVUvZCXjmCAo-JIUPhAxEbgmizxf1AaLpfC7_AqHF-nI/s4000/IMG_8611%20dog%20notice.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzPpzgWKUmZvGemBRt-JmChkpD35Z1QeCOenAaT1v2sB5vOUXgrhl1q9SLogtJxuyAi7YwlPg379--uPQj862VUdTdUGKzwGKg1eYR-EEGj_kOU42lQGGBtHwPEZvY_yR905N7CymBmdjNuIseVUvZCXjmCAo-JIUPhAxEbgmizxf1AaLpfC7_AqHF-nI/w640-h480/IMG_8611%20dog%20notice.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1AhbtHRM1LD9W6YLRqejIkNfjRMTymEJnOhEXWs59D2ng9ZuBn4_RHXr5m43N3sPp-VLze9IHl5XWB1kn-whNWUU8Moa5OY1QyEiD2ZCuBmWHe4UdLeLlsE9lxJqsxK0xphkEy8IG6LzOgW2-CJ5ScRmXzUQIxs90nRRNN1VKYSOTDjNivtn1s93wiS4/s1194/do%20not%20feed%20the%20dogs.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1194" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1AhbtHRM1LD9W6YLRqejIkNfjRMTymEJnOhEXWs59D2ng9ZuBn4_RHXr5m43N3sPp-VLze9IHl5XWB1kn-whNWUU8Moa5OY1QyEiD2ZCuBmWHe4UdLeLlsE9lxJqsxK0xphkEy8IG6LzOgW2-CJ5ScRmXzUQIxs90nRRNN1VKYSOTDjNivtn1s93wiS4/w640-h514/do%20not%20feed%20the%20dogs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The people who work there obviously love the place, and there are personal and humorous touches everywhere. I loved the picture-within-a-picture below: a lovely little painting of a chair stands on the chair itself. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFr-qWizKlxQ0tNsJnCJ-u1wrg9IWO2PyM6qVDuv3rHzZnyqHNjGEZswflThfxrmrZmabYLJQ1N9vr8yr7-coIsVV0VZNPGOlmW34RjwrouuqXbDrv8QytA86xQXbIwdzKk9XI0KMlCW0rybJyqND47AreRxJyE19m5kNvuHfguDzKQ-P_3clziylsfXc/s4000/IMG_8597%20picture%20on%20chair,%20repeating.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFr-qWizKlxQ0tNsJnCJ-u1wrg9IWO2PyM6qVDuv3rHzZnyqHNjGEZswflThfxrmrZmabYLJQ1N9vr8yr7-coIsVV0VZNPGOlmW34RjwrouuqXbDrv8QytA86xQXbIwdzKk9XI0KMlCW0rybJyqND47AreRxJyE19m5kNvuHfguDzKQ-P_3clziylsfXc/w480-h640/IMG_8597%20picture%20on%20chair,%20repeating.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I didn't research the family emblems, but there's a stork-like bird with a coronet which was presumably associated with the earldom. Here's a stone version, coronet around its neck, guarding the front door. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiR9D9dlXEmWfAE3eLEv4A9e_WyNLwB53H7eHt8gZJHLhPUCOPojV0nPu1IEQ-Oji0m7BhIeec3ww8_199vigd_7gbCqF3CGK_7QAHBcoBfAJjBxg6v48boEVzCMcVt0aQBGThrjJtojlrP4fb6drF3MgI3h56VQ8MmrGLTa6jDVyVDByYK-3zh8g-W1s/s947/IMG_20230807_135714733.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="947" data-original-width="534" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiR9D9dlXEmWfAE3eLEv4A9e_WyNLwB53H7eHt8gZJHLhPUCOPojV0nPu1IEQ-Oji0m7BhIeec3ww8_199vigd_7gbCqF3CGK_7QAHBcoBfAJjBxg6v48boEVzCMcVt0aQBGThrjJtojlrP4fb6drF3MgI3h56VQ8MmrGLTa6jDVyVDByYK-3zh8g-W1s/w360-h640/IMG_20230807_135714733.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Similar birds appear on ornaments, or holding candlesticks. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lv7Hnfg9n73u_4a-fgO63ajXjZZ5P2p4HAK5QnZhw3ylXmAOYGu3Va9TFRcqptUofkEtkfyvmoZjXnT6gnycQf8iqpgAOmwRJjYhYO23es0P06axKPhHVOMRHatGDRV5momzV6PZAx4F3aJu2mY8Ftz9jhZeErzTZqvRNxed1ZOIU6OOaB5w4rjeNCo/s3032/x%20bird%20ornament.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3032" data-original-width="2008" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lv7Hnfg9n73u_4a-fgO63ajXjZZ5P2p4HAK5QnZhw3ylXmAOYGu3Va9TFRcqptUofkEtkfyvmoZjXnT6gnycQf8iqpgAOmwRJjYhYO23es0P06axKPhHVOMRHatGDRV5momzV6PZAx4F3aJu2mY8Ftz9jhZeErzTZqvRNxed1ZOIU6OOaB5w4rjeNCo/w424-h640/x%20bird%20ornament.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> They feature, too, on amusing direction signposts in the garden. Here is one about to partake of a cup of tea... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHfEu0a06vDOd8I38wEpy_24ePIeJhgDpZriPvi1-RgHneVdHGSBZRDBOuSYhajaDwU0OSIBLwpeTZqft3U--CXkFt2QuKyF55-l5L58E-5wfvE4NIj6_JbDBF-lQR-kcc_LK8NyZ-MGaAhjkaDkboxbN0pRRffrg7GkU8nKApta5CVOL0pCmx1wS57zg/s1628/tearoom%20sign.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="742" data-original-width="1628" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHfEu0a06vDOd8I38wEpy_24ePIeJhgDpZriPvi1-RgHneVdHGSBZRDBOuSYhajaDwU0OSIBLwpeTZqft3U--CXkFt2QuKyF55-l5L58E-5wfvE4NIj6_JbDBF-lQR-kcc_LK8NyZ-MGaAhjkaDkboxbN0pRRffrg7GkU8nKApta5CVOL0pCmx1wS57zg/w640-h292/tearoom%20sign.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div>these two are respectively using a wheelchair or else need baby changing facilities.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVfwGivgun1zw0YOrF6UGuaKz55tavrcELqke0S1wgUFkkXlg3A06HnWTVcmFj5aIRrVy4ZMmcBsr2XNWCC-Yq91GvuHMxrlOG7ai3bEFXzFmc7w_gvWuQC5I98xFTxLhCjvKjlYKXGl0LEabuk_cE13JAjU9_r-w3Ftyzcakw2J_KVi5f_3l6V18XSJo/s972/accessible%20toilets.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="972" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVfwGivgun1zw0YOrF6UGuaKz55tavrcELqke0S1wgUFkkXlg3A06HnWTVcmFj5aIRrVy4ZMmcBsr2XNWCC-Yq91GvuHMxrlOG7ai3bEFXzFmc7w_gvWuQC5I98xFTxLhCjvKjlYKXGl0LEabuk_cE13JAjU9_r-w3Ftyzcakw2J_KVi5f_3l6V18XSJo/w640-h362/accessible%20toilets.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And what is the house like inside? Well, even after decades of selling off the contents, there is no shortage of interesting and beautiful things to see. Here are a few photos at random, starting with part of the atmospheric front hallway with a dramatic Russian Orthodox shrine in the background.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY2mTC7THccZY74G9Pa-A9j1FMCR0uUMydjf6e5wVPjBUAc18nrVOHPa-NDFUm0e-OA2U_1sZ_cY6mFgnWohDH2PktqTU0M5ivkJjS1e3inUTZ6xynD_04H1vXFEVpagTI3-s43u42Gu8MgOYqCql1htu8orG37jpIPKqOPqyQeRr4yHl7rMEyh4Ne0Bc/s4000/IMG_8568.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY2mTC7THccZY74G9Pa-A9j1FMCR0uUMydjf6e5wVPjBUAc18nrVOHPa-NDFUm0e-OA2U_1sZ_cY6mFgnWohDH2PktqTU0M5ivkJjS1e3inUTZ6xynD_04H1vXFEVpagTI3-s43u42Gu8MgOYqCql1htu8orG37jpIPKqOPqyQeRr4yHl7rMEyh4Ne0Bc/w640-h480/IMG_8568.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div>A most beautiful dolls house full of furniture stands in one of the bedrooms. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBKLQmKjyxpnjjXlFqTWi6dm_zgAlYfNeyPVK9RSxvwhlfC75Lc2fy703t3fAMuoCh_Fyz3jygVqWrn2rtlIRTaRUMy8oExsxQs-fvRqHOC14t1BV4hj0Daw0wtrYFyAKSh6BG1oAOHzBGLfyitTzjZWFyFJyQ80TJiZSaffietdxqhSTm_Egz2KR93Qg/s2390/x%20dolls%20house%20bedroom%20bantry.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1970" data-original-width="2390" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBKLQmKjyxpnjjXlFqTWi6dm_zgAlYfNeyPVK9RSxvwhlfC75Lc2fy703t3fAMuoCh_Fyz3jygVqWrn2rtlIRTaRUMy8oExsxQs-fvRqHOC14t1BV4hj0Daw0wtrYFyAKSh6BG1oAOHzBGLfyitTzjZWFyFJyQ80TJiZSaffietdxqhSTm_Egz2KR93Qg/w640-h528/x%20dolls%20house%20bedroom%20bantry.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And there is a remarkable dining room, the biggest I have ever seen outside a hotel. Its splendid and elaborately carved sideboards stretch across three walls. There are lovely tapestries, beautiful china and imposing oil paintings. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrkdLHWE-r7o-KNjgMN3SB813earstQB0JQm1bzqUJcNjGO8TUjQt5K60zMTtstEZVRVnGjmlSywY_4Jt6KSDV9oCWfh5ihE7m-2_F6ziGE3wtm5K6BHylMZ6C8V8g8kJWp34cXbUsHsX_-j1Ilr9B0L0YD21J7qJKtf-CV_qch_Rg-pBHz20LRQheZKM/s4000/IMG_8596.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrkdLHWE-r7o-KNjgMN3SB813earstQB0JQm1bzqUJcNjGO8TUjQt5K60zMTtstEZVRVnGjmlSywY_4Jt6KSDV9oCWfh5ihE7m-2_F6ziGE3wtm5K6BHylMZ6C8V8g8kJWp34cXbUsHsX_-j1Ilr9B0L0YD21J7qJKtf-CV_qch_Rg-pBHz20LRQheZKM/w640-h480/IMG_8596.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">One wing of the house, is now given over to the family's bed and breakfast business, and that's something I would like to try. No rooms were available during my visit, but when I return to Ireland I hope to stay there if I can. What sold the idea to me is that apparently, after hours, when night falls, the guests are allowed to open a secret door into the library and creep in to light the fire .... </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgeIA2mP4ld-c8a64XVKMK2NxG6Fada6eR1cgDayG5z0bvb3x1fr6XzdfXkPw4Tb69rHj2foZDRO5fbK8iNZWbsMZpNr0gjQfndzvtH6hGpfzxg6tC5YK90nfI4chUoU5TxZMP8jjI6stcHdS_EyZLp9dzYlr0sm2RbWgiKaF45uLaomYagMzZz-0MNQ/s1418/light%20the%20fire%20enlarged.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1090" data-original-width="1418" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgeIA2mP4ld-c8a64XVKMK2NxG6Fada6eR1cgDayG5z0bvb3x1fr6XzdfXkPw4Tb69rHj2foZDRO5fbK8iNZWbsMZpNr0gjQfndzvtH6hGpfzxg6tC5YK90nfI4chUoU5TxZMP8jjI6stcHdS_EyZLp9dzYlr0sm2RbWgiKaF45uLaomYagMzZz-0MNQ/w640-h492/light%20the%20fire%20enlarged.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;">....and play music... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAVZ0uSXZDQ6mc269zfaq8HrU5jlE7JONfD_MpZRJZtL4NQWnxNerhTElZCpyRCvbhSwPtpCTAb1lDlaqSGSsdlUvIQRUk7TQNF2S69pH-eujfei9TaquYYj-EWulzzDSbDXRcVqTsYA_AnVOEvSxknZwirhXBRUlcnxqQ0OQ9EHPq31yoNwr-z1dLAk/s3550/x%20records.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1995" data-original-width="3550" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAVZ0uSXZDQ6mc269zfaq8HrU5jlE7JONfD_MpZRJZtL4NQWnxNerhTElZCpyRCvbhSwPtpCTAb1lDlaqSGSsdlUvIQRUk7TQNF2S69pH-eujfei9TaquYYj-EWulzzDSbDXRcVqTsYA_AnVOEvSxknZwirhXBRUlcnxqQ0OQ9EHPq31yoNwr-z1dLAk/w640-h360/x%20records.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;">..... read some of the interesting books, lounge on a sofa with a drink, admire the details of the architecture</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAJkudp2_5GFdQkIN4bNarUN20brWGFEXhzfzrxbx1bnVQBO1xu09ih8WSNGAA9PtokQ4uABC3NqkC2YFS_u-tqXseYoQbQpM7LdLpIDeAKcvg7QXHDMVcKXNL6_SWWtZ0m92q_yriLED4GVJl3vTQDqY5TGmEdRxYRG0bfLX15xn7tCJ45477xC_XXE/s3828/light%20the%20fire.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2226" data-original-width="3828" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAJkudp2_5GFdQkIN4bNarUN20brWGFEXhzfzrxbx1bnVQBO1xu09ih8WSNGAA9PtokQ4uABC3NqkC2YFS_u-tqXseYoQbQpM7LdLpIDeAKcvg7QXHDMVcKXNL6_SWWtZ0m92q_yriLED4GVJl3vTQDqY5TGmEdRxYRG0bfLX15xn7tCJ45477xC_XXE/w640-h372/light%20the%20fire.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"> and generally make themselves at home while the trees blow in the darkness outside. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Of course all old mansions worth their salt have a ghost, and Bantry's ghost seems to float vaguely around upstairs without anyone being too sure of who it is supposed to be. I'm sort of glad it's not the the shade of poor Clodagh in her two fur coats. I'm also glad that the house's air of life and character makes it feel as if it will survive. 1922 is long enough ago now, and Ireland is now doing better than Britain in many ways. I think it can afford to see places like this as part of its own history, and not merely as symbols of oppression.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Coming back to today, in my last post, I said I'd show some photos of the <a href="https://www.corkinternationalairporthotel.com/">multi coloured washrooms in the airport hotel at Cork. </a>We stayed there the night before flying back to London, and I only wanted to wash my hands before going into the bar that evening but when I walked into the washroom I was thunderstruck - all those huge square sinks standing in a circle, each with an oval mirror above and all bathed in bright pink and purple colour. I loved it. It was like a nightclub. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZpzKKJF5FkAvPEvVHRI5e6UdsoWwYSHSBtU3ZT5rMnUQXgVGM68Gjj7pigtQogH7QLlezyX4SLbdHfA_lk_iGOynwFMxXi4KLpedBQOCmhBz5keBQRX7GB2T3dquVK1UtAk2w420NNfs9ZvJHEnBefKbsNPLOPJtkiq6OvUKrFy6GiCJRP-Xe81yX34/s1679/IMG_20230809_084913657.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="1679" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ZpzKKJF5FkAvPEvVHRI5e6UdsoWwYSHSBtU3ZT5rMnUQXgVGM68Gjj7pigtQogH7QLlezyX4SLbdHfA_lk_iGOynwFMxXi4KLpedBQOCmhBz5keBQRX7GB2T3dquVK1UtAk2w420NNfs9ZvJHEnBefKbsNPLOPJtkiq6OvUKrFy6GiCJRP-Xe81yX34/w640-h360/IMG_20230809_084913657.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I was busy examining the basins and wondering what they were made of - they seemed to glow. And then suddenly I realised that something about the room had changed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtVEA5ZbeoZhQ29EswRh8UEEzVDsG-a2OmcB4_oLgGtoFA4UBIN59HKSTeUsjHRttsNxMXpfTqS9dPeBSoe_XKRreugkpXUI8s8fJguWR8-wQOta3QgnVM-mApdlVcPCJ-U2qwZAz8rtBrlEZ_WnHw1aYJnit7CCkK0q1_RtK9FoKzdVjK-cLlVHvSjU/s1679/IMG_20230809_084818376.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="1679" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtVEA5ZbeoZhQ29EswRh8UEEzVDsG-a2OmcB4_oLgGtoFA4UBIN59HKSTeUsjHRttsNxMXpfTqS9dPeBSoe_XKRreugkpXUI8s8fJguWR8-wQOta3QgnVM-mApdlVcPCJ-U2qwZAz8rtBrlEZ_WnHw1aYJnit7CCkK0q1_RtK9FoKzdVjK-cLlVHvSjU/w640-h360/IMG_20230809_084818376.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div>and before I realised it, everything was bright green. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglv6UoTSpb1NreCebMvKtaQWHG27iFH7mJASGxvChqnG-9mwmjTGjKMAFyldQcuMuM8juf6nvvrT-m581_rhGeocY0hoCOL_rYi9U4H_DOfnTJBlq93gOdVE9_WwCmCUQIsY3dc28PmbuY8UsJo9b7olVNxpFC9Mke8wP3KRSa0eyDaJPyNmkf6nqexrE/s1679/IMG_20230809_084844995.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="1679" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglv6UoTSpb1NreCebMvKtaQWHG27iFH7mJASGxvChqnG-9mwmjTGjKMAFyldQcuMuM8juf6nvvrT-m581_rhGeocY0hoCOL_rYi9U4H_DOfnTJBlq93gOdVE9_WwCmCUQIsY3dc28PmbuY8UsJo9b7olVNxpFC9Mke8wP3KRSa0eyDaJPyNmkf6nqexrE/w640-h360/IMG_20230809_084844995.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I started taking a bit more notice of the hotel. At first glance it had looked fairly bland in an upmarket way, but thx I found it wasn't bland. The breakfast was amazing, and a little quirky, and if the bar food is as good as the breakfast that'll maybe help explain why local people seem to drive out from city to spend the evening there, even if they're not flying anywhere. Some unusual coffee table books were to be found in the reception hall. They included sample books from trendy designers, and were very interesting to look through. I think I'll stay there again next time I go to Cork. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-20579953146865360412023-08-15T15:10:00.026+01:002023-08-20T08:56:31.063+01:00Back from Ireland<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQIZhUQDFqN1_Cax7XeNvemGduyb9__bCLEnbcivNUpZGKUK_mZYDo2jwxJjkjku2HklHQ1oA6QClJyAErcxGnCrlToFQXWXG6YjXr40s28jQlRALlnuN2Yumu3fC2ENf60dK3M_HgREzxhn6BiZ7tB8c9uzISLt2YfhQDKUYteOY0OYWVlw5_YVFtXA/s1679/IMG_20230809_113918931.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="1679" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQIZhUQDFqN1_Cax7XeNvemGduyb9__bCLEnbcivNUpZGKUK_mZYDo2jwxJjkjku2HklHQ1oA6QClJyAErcxGnCrlToFQXWXG6YjXr40s28jQlRALlnuN2Yumu3fC2ENf60dK3M_HgREzxhn6BiZ7tB8c9uzISLt2YfhQDKUYteOY0OYWVlw5_YVFtXA/w640-h360/IMG_20230809_113918931.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">When I look at this picture it reminds me of my teenage years in Malta, when we would go down stony paths that wound through ancient stone fortifications, and then swim off the rocks at the shore. But if this had been Malta, I'd have taken the photo in winter or early spring, because the flowers in the foreground would have been long gone by the time the blazing hot summer arrived. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Anyway, as the title of my post suggests, this picture doesn't show long-ago Malta. It shows an Irish scene - a view from the coastal path towards Charles Fort, at Kinsale, Co. Cork. The water around the coast of West Cork is beautifully clear, and half a dozen people in the sea were clearly having a wonderful time, even though the water probably wasn't too warm. Even the sunshine didn't last, because Irish weather changes by the minute, and two hours later the scene was foggy! </p><p style="text-align: center;">I've been wanting to get to Ireland ever since I got my Irish citizenship during the Covid pandemic and I finally made it earlier this month. </p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRCgHgCkZOzORBGrLI_hx5zZGAj2bCutyp-32RezikOnPDAWOkqIUDeA3k_HBJ0K5t5XNiUuzjxnLZICZNPr7b_XE0bWfbC-EVElobL7sf_4ZFvuN3yDEoKhHWHHIuNr4j3NUH73CZ0lSbQIbMX_kkdcEHZ7cgi6iuRNMFwjocVmnmLijvz862jNvB3w/s3414/Irish%20passport.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3414" data-original-width="2496" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRCgHgCkZOzORBGrLI_hx5zZGAj2bCutyp-32RezikOnPDAWOkqIUDeA3k_HBJ0K5t5XNiUuzjxnLZICZNPr7b_XE0bWfbC-EVElobL7sf_4ZFvuN3yDEoKhHWHHIuNr4j3NUH73CZ0lSbQIbMX_kkdcEHZ7cgi6iuRNMFwjocVmnmLijvz862jNvB3w/w468-h640/Irish%20passport.jpg" width="468" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm really proud of my Irish passport, which I am eligible for because I had an Irish grandfather. (Both my grandfathers were Irish, in fact, but one happened to be born in England). This is the grandfather in question: my dad's dad, Richard, who was born in Kilkenny. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUcPMSp0Iddc6Je9_WBzeTpHrwz5kFRE2EqD9WJ9JYedUYkdOEYLztdO3oys2L_bTUBOi06xVi8K5LwaztZNs60mVkAKdEazG9EDnuOkr2lZjzz_PuCUAnxjsAl88QE6OBfnUzfQ0gIaWz9dfs7eXuqJm0zzoPs2kK080eyTyC_V54D7MAVoC1mloh0w/s828/Richard%20Grist%20grandfather%20tidied%20and%20brightened.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="828" data-original-width="716" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUcPMSp0Iddc6Je9_WBzeTpHrwz5kFRE2EqD9WJ9JYedUYkdOEYLztdO3oys2L_bTUBOi06xVi8K5LwaztZNs60mVkAKdEazG9EDnuOkr2lZjzz_PuCUAnxjsAl88QE6OBfnUzfQ0gIaWz9dfs7eXuqJm0zzoPs2kK080eyTyC_V54D7MAVoC1mloh0w/s320/Richard%20Grist%20grandfather%20tidied%20and%20brightened.jpg" width="277" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Many of my male ancestors were in the army, or in jobs that required them to travel around. They came from poor backgrounds, where the only alternatives to trusting your luck in the big wide world were (a) labouring in awful jobs on the city or (b) labouring on the farm, both of which were often just another way of being cruelly exploited. One of the big attractions of the army was that you could rely on steady pay and getting fed. And who knows, you might come across some interesting opportunities in your travels. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As far as I know, nobody in my family was ever stationed in Charles Fort, though they may well have stayed in places like it. It's very well preserved, and we had a good guided tour of the site, which made me feel specially interested in the family quarters. I have put a pink arrow on this photo, which ....</div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHQ2T5gITZ59IC4nhhZXvjLZ_Kw2EMRBTkOCo8IYDschKZHAaflH5mQv-q3FoZWnCxvdT_gcJnjcd-ivBaxg540xmv1qb4NbX2xW9QljuwXxyt12zSmzkBI4NpPoRPJlGPk7K4x8wPzTgGK6Dbx_38R7knuTXvM8DitcwcXhjq7LT-cJx_2q6c-bVp4g/s1502/gunpowder%20store%20arrow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1348" data-original-width="1502" height="574" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHQ2T5gITZ59IC4nhhZXvjLZ_Kw2EMRBTkOCo8IYDschKZHAaflH5mQv-q3FoZWnCxvdT_gcJnjcd-ivBaxg540xmv1qb4NbX2xW9QljuwXxyt12zSmzkBI4NpPoRPJlGPk7K4x8wPzTgGK6Dbx_38R7knuTXvM8DitcwcXhjq7LT-cJx_2q6c-bVp4g/w640-h574/gunpowder%20store%20arrow.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">...marks the fort's arsenal - that building with the pointy roof . It was packed to the rafters with explosives and guarded 24 hours a day. Any soldier who needed to enter it, for whatever reason, had to strip down and put on a linen smock and wear wooden clogs on his feet, an outfit considered to be less inflammable than his regular uniform. </p><p style="text-align: center;">The soldiers' married quarters are just opposite the arsenal! The building would have been crowded with women and children as well as soldiers, so they'd have been the first to go up in smoke if there'd been an explosion. You can't see the officers' quarters in this picture since they were separated from the arsenal by a huge wall. It might not have protected them much, but perhaps it made them feel safer. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> It's generally thought that only officers were allowed to take their families with them on their travels but according to our guide, some soldiers also got the opportunity to have the family along, even if it did mean living next to the gunpowder. My great-great-great grandad seemed as if he may have been one of these. Apparently, soldiers had to enter a lottery if they wanted to be accompanied, and if they drew a winning ball, the family would be provided for. Their wives and daughters cooked and cleaned, while the sons were either enrolled as soldiers as soon as possible, or became bugle-boys or other undesirable jobs. There was no privacy and several families lived together in one huge room. But still better, it seems, than staying back home on the farm. </p><p style="text-align: center;">My great-great-great grandfather's name was John Harper, and he was born in Halesworth, Suffolk. His wife was called Catherine Miniter, who had been born in Scarriff, Co. Clare. The pair married when they were both in Canada, so Catherine's father, (who was also born in Co. Clare) was almost certainly a soldier too. In that case, she'd have been well used to the military life, and the nine children she and John produced all survived to adulthood, even though every one was born in a different part of Ireland, England or Canada. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> I tried to imagine her travelling to and across the Atlantic with the children - almost certainly in steerage - pregnant a lot of the time and frequently suffering Canadian winters into the bargain. As well as this, the Fenian wars and other instability were plaguing Canada - which I suppose is why my great-great-great grandad and his father-in-law were out there in the first place. Sadly, I don't know where and when Catherine died, but I hope she got back to Clare eventually, like her dad apparently did. </p><p style="text-align: center;">"Miniter" is an unusual name which still survives in Clare. Many Irish records before 1850 have been destroyed but the name may be Norman French in origin, and I have the beginnings of a plan to visit Scarriff on my next trip to see what kind of a place Clare is. </p><p style="text-align: center;">To return to Kinsale, it's the site of a battle which changed the course of English and Irish history. Walk along that lovely coastline and you'll come across a few signs like this.... </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5B6nEN3Gwwg7iJ3VGWYRoBTZcX8FcxAMzhL8FeUFDiI2q339l1r9yR2gf3KRltfloQ7dNxEqpr0uIWnec4EzHFYDbkjY2WvhmXWWJFvnge-HuNOVzjR7OT95378-aYDQTDm-IKOWgd6p_tVujh-pNmCgSKNpvbPbiSLTpz3rehnGQknzKA-Vk6p-BzM/s3205/last%20armada%20-%201601.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1835" data-original-width="3205" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5B6nEN3Gwwg7iJ3VGWYRoBTZcX8FcxAMzhL8FeUFDiI2q339l1r9yR2gf3KRltfloQ7dNxEqpr0uIWnec4EzHFYDbkjY2WvhmXWWJFvnge-HuNOVzjR7OT95378-aYDQTDm-IKOWgd6p_tVujh-pNmCgSKNpvbPbiSLTpz3rehnGQknzKA-Vk6p-BzM/w640-h366/last%20armada%20-%201601.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">...and if you like military history, <a href="https://www.historyireland.com/the-battle-of-kinsale-1601/">here</a>'s more information. </p><p style="text-align: center;">The town of Kinsale today could hardly be more different from how it was then. Now, it is a pretty old place, with houses painted up in many colours, and a lively "foodie" culture. They're proud of their Michelin-starred restaurant, "Bastion" and there are several other highly rated restaurants offering different cuisines, not to mention great artisan ingredients to buy. How times change, eh? </p><p style="text-align: center;">Here's one other photo that I liked taking at Charles Fort. These structures are by the main gate are connected with the water supply, but I love their simple and satisfying shapes. I just wonder how they worked. Were they bases for wooden water tanks? Or did the troughs fill with water? Is that a well in the middle of each one? </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LDq4zwaCo7CR5d0MpkCTrMejGNS2WZrtNoo7aSJvVMVzo-TeeF7EZSdNrvumjFdVgpbz8e2xNNMec8rgP2rvZgBuCih_lW2FiiuxTC8aAUDXeatP5w9XDOcUWJQ2xKoAGStZ3Y9wPzox1Y4E6KVBySAh4D33sNA1JoZExewlaAQ2eRZGM_l6KntARYE/s4000/IMG_8889.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LDq4zwaCo7CR5d0MpkCTrMejGNS2WZrtNoo7aSJvVMVzo-TeeF7EZSdNrvumjFdVgpbz8e2xNNMec8rgP2rvZgBuCih_lW2FiiuxTC8aAUDXeatP5w9XDOcUWJQ2xKoAGStZ3Y9wPzox1Y4E6KVBySAh4D33sNA1JoZExewlaAQ2eRZGM_l6KntARYE/w640-h480/IMG_8889.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">In the end, Charles Fort rather fizzled out. It only saw combat once, in 1690, when it was attacked by King William of Orange. After a thirteen day siege, King Billy breached the walls, helped (according to the guide who showed us around) by a sleazy sounding guy who had supervised building the fort in the first place. Not only had that man creamed off money from the building for himself, but he also told the enemy that the eastern walls hadn't been properly built, so naturally William concentrated his attacks there. </p><p style="text-align: center;">After this, Charles Fort lingered on and eventually fell into ruin. It's now run by the Irish Office of Public Works, which I can't imagine will ever give it up or sell it on. Before they took it on, though, the fort had a brief period in the 1970s when it ws occupied by a hippy encampment. That's the time I'd have liked to known it. What a nice spot to go and sit and think about peace & love, have a nice swim on a hot day, and look out at the ever-changing sea. </p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiII1EFPgpbl_zJTotrX-gOycKJ2u0hxhW_EY2_sPS-N4eZ7IsqeoFsaCLFYXAorCpHG-yD7rdrYsRRNiVRq8AzYb3rzqAXkOT42ZfPIoDFEXyM7Jx_eLyxZW1oGewNxtIJfgo5qom7pWOtg5CXvJXR-0cqY-c0XtPqzn32eT2VxfFWgL6UFtnmZkrfc20/s1386/boat.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1386" data-original-width="1018" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiII1EFPgpbl_zJTotrX-gOycKJ2u0hxhW_EY2_sPS-N4eZ7IsqeoFsaCLFYXAorCpHG-yD7rdrYsRRNiVRq8AzYb3rzqAXkOT42ZfPIoDFEXyM7Jx_eLyxZW1oGewNxtIJfgo5qom7pWOtg5CXvJXR-0cqY-c0XtPqzn32eT2VxfFWgL6UFtnmZkrfc20/w470-h640/boat.jpg" width="470" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div> <p></p><p></p>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-8591686075227749062023-07-28T19:23:00.004+01:002023-07-31T17:19:17.166+01:00Edinburgh<p> I'm putting a post up today to see if my old Blogland friends are still around - I suspect that notifications of my posts aren't going out any more, but maybe I'm wrong. So if you've followed me in the past, it would be great if you'd comment, even if it is just to say "hi" ... it would be good to know if anyone's out there! 😀</p><p>Right now I'm sitting in London feeling very grateful that the weather is mildly sunny, and we are not getting the scorching temperatures of more southerly bits of Europe. Some of the hottest weather I've had this summer has actually been in Edinburgh, which we visited last month. It's correct to say that lots of sun isn't a famous feature of Scottish weather and, as one of my Scottish friends said, everyone had been very excited lately because of the huge bright thing they'd noticed in the sky. They had apparently been lolling in the parks, sitting outside cafes and doing all sort of essentially non Scottish things. One thing I had never seen before is the Scott Monument in glaring sunlight. To me, it looked a little bit like an Indonesian temple instead of its usual dramatic, misty, gothic self.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDyC0yVbK3p-QvryJkdi_F9JlHIIe98FyHC_OkLStuq4pwZkhHAbNqQYEUI-KsmdFmRFUy2sFvTHYBosGkYMrzlDs9T2smkl8LTF7K96D4tnpxNvyjEWAciHMjfRex_yWfxdvYwrsO28_MLPEz5Gau5tUDDc5UQGUevV5Gmmg7DHXH3YqZwqeuRK_ffc/s882/scott%20monument%20thai.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="882" data-original-width="462" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDyC0yVbK3p-QvryJkdi_F9JlHIIe98FyHC_OkLStuq4pwZkhHAbNqQYEUI-KsmdFmRFUy2sFvTHYBosGkYMrzlDs9T2smkl8LTF7K96D4tnpxNvyjEWAciHMjfRex_yWfxdvYwrsO28_MLPEz5Gau5tUDDc5UQGUevV5Gmmg7DHXH3YqZwqeuRK_ffc/w336-h640/scott%20monument%20thai.JPG" width="336" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">During our visit, we s</span>pent some time in the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh. What a friendly and welcoming place - can't say I had expected it to be but it just shows how wrong I was. It was built at various times in a variety of architectural styles, and everyone seemed so pleased with it and happy to be working there. I thought the main medical library had an atmosphere right out of Harry Potter or even Alice in Wonderland.... do you agree?</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsq2iIa28cSwG6Y8NuTfxruAi6SicYl7UXGXyLTTcK-6FaxqXyXi687nTDrJ88YYWCBIcret9sovISRoZ5_xmnGcs2f5u--mGmG_Zw9NzfDHbnOA_GSaFhzjG2fZJG9T5oNCh3yjsinDpdnqAsZsCgua8Dw0_dwDcQk0WW2B199kSHjZGkgOBaFG3ndgI/s2048/Alice%20in%20wonderland%20minus%20T%20for%20blog.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1153" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsq2iIa28cSwG6Y8NuTfxruAi6SicYl7UXGXyLTTcK-6FaxqXyXi687nTDrJ88YYWCBIcret9sovISRoZ5_xmnGcs2f5u--mGmG_Zw9NzfDHbnOA_GSaFhzjG2fZJG9T5oNCh3yjsinDpdnqAsZsCgua8Dw0_dwDcQk0WW2B199kSHjZGkgOBaFG3ndgI/w360-h640/Alice%20in%20wonderland%20minus%20T%20for%20blog.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We were staying in Leith, where we met up with old friends who had moved from London years ago. K had found an unusual b&b which added to the fun. It's a curious little house whose three floors are linked by spiral stairs, overlooking a rose garden. It looks old but is in fact, fairly new, and it's built slap bang against the Finnish consulate (which is in a genuinely very old house). I supposed the Finns were the ones who had cultivated the rose garden, but it was hard to be sure. What a place to find in the centre of a slightly rough-round-the-edges back street of what used to be the sailors' area of Edinburgh. </div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDitdsFfJqejLSgg9Jxc8Fh2ZWne50NY3nyoDWHnHdxNlpyexF-biSrX-_VYUV5v4osUYwUFybgHPcTtumnV_2tDdYvGl9neClqsp5OyUcuLAoQPFfGFM861eXQ1Hi4DKtaw8r5rx7CBaSt5jOJHz9dchma7_qi--RunoZ2x5UDxQxgPiG8FRcIBAiOXo/s883/Garden%20and%20pavilion%20view.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="883" data-original-width="496" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDitdsFfJqejLSgg9Jxc8Fh2ZWne50NY3nyoDWHnHdxNlpyexF-biSrX-_VYUV5v4osUYwUFybgHPcTtumnV_2tDdYvGl9neClqsp5OyUcuLAoQPFfGFM861eXQ1Hi4DKtaw8r5rx7CBaSt5jOJHz9dchma7_qi--RunoZ2x5UDxQxgPiG8FRcIBAiOXo/w360-h640/Garden%20and%20pavilion%20view.jpg" width="360" /></a></p><p>Leith has mostly cast off its somewhat dodgy reputation and is indeed now considered to be one of the coolest places in Scotland. There are loads of cafes, pubs, and some really good, and not at all pretentious restaurants. And yes, by the time I took this photo the big bright sun had gone away, but then, I never really expected it to stay. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPWaKGylEA1fm2p5om5g7BXM5enIOYjGzi3vhuSAHv6XV4s1ipTRFzDyHwFGmmwW9gotV_2iu08V0262xQp3g2MF1G1YzPFmKAJThEc6WM4B1FLvN2Xg7ixP4bkamH4rfsuBQ4JN3UFVQzBBKHwrdsaWN-HPWYG44VjEmHXh8A9J-sFlp2ctuzRD2vVQY/s639/view%20across%20water%20of%20leith.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="639" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPWaKGylEA1fm2p5om5g7BXM5enIOYjGzi3vhuSAHv6XV4s1ipTRFzDyHwFGmmwW9gotV_2iu08V0262xQp3g2MF1G1YzPFmKAJThEc6WM4B1FLvN2Xg7ixP4bkamH4rfsuBQ4JN3UFVQzBBKHwrdsaWN-HPWYG44VjEmHXh8A9J-sFlp2ctuzRD2vVQY/w640-h412/view%20across%20water%20of%20leith.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">On Saturday in Leith there's a farmer's market. The Two Raccoons here caught my eye. They transform surplus fruit into home made wine, and very good it is too. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcdTN2hg-I5sW2UiY-veT9SAGkl8FX71ZR2YNoJelvCubeKPDVwn78_JPgY2HnQoqut92M714_f1XDa5EQa2Q5Ar88LRPn09broxi0JKaVf8G6Qs6LMLn1-gElprOMPgLJRNyNoLWYYgy9zQmJkkY7jiE6xGx9dhwZ-OHwMzD3xh6CzU9Kr84ZEd9-iFs/s2604/IMG_20230617_111926306%20Two%20raccoons%20Leith%20market.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1494" data-original-width="2604" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcdTN2hg-I5sW2UiY-veT9SAGkl8FX71ZR2YNoJelvCubeKPDVwn78_JPgY2HnQoqut92M714_f1XDa5EQa2Q5Ar88LRPn09broxi0JKaVf8G6Qs6LMLn1-gElprOMPgLJRNyNoLWYYgy9zQmJkkY7jiE6xGx9dhwZ-OHwMzD3xh6CzU9Kr84ZEd9-iFs/w640-h368/IMG_20230617_111926306%20Two%20raccoons%20Leith%20market.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One afternoon I went for a walk along the Water of Leith. It's a riverside path which was well used by local walkers, cyclists and hangers-around, yet it seemed uncrowded and peaceful too. Some parts of the riverbanks were lush and covered in wild roses, and I only wish I could share the birdsong with you - an aural embroidery of bird calls such as you almost never hear in a city. How lucky the locals are to have it. </div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcT9QoEMtx_EeMvEGT3Pydrk68EaQ_bqfO_Zkyf3zDonk-Y_WrhZkT1FKty0GgSs9UB3H08TnEvNWFh6ogJGhB85lGferXys2_ZEah4fe5TDDWiKFTWWY22RErS6jJpqf7qwgP5bWemwQ8issun_d_ZrLqNUjLaBIxwsbTrTfRK9VRCrnB5RbN5vVv24Y/s3348/wild%20roses%20view%20along%20path%20at%20Water%20of%20Leith.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3348" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcT9QoEMtx_EeMvEGT3Pydrk68EaQ_bqfO_Zkyf3zDonk-Y_WrhZkT1FKty0GgSs9UB3H08TnEvNWFh6ogJGhB85lGferXys2_ZEah4fe5TDDWiKFTWWY22RErS6jJpqf7qwgP5bWemwQ8issun_d_ZrLqNUjLaBIxwsbTrTfRK9VRCrnB5RbN5vVv24Y/w640-h442/wild%20roses%20view%20along%20path%20at%20Water%20of%20Leith.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>At first I thought this life sized figure was real, although I was quite glad it wasn't. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiADUsesHVxZTUKfDNp1y7Pb2CyoQGGTDmuEBmUXKsn1W90FWm3ItUaBL15k1UAQGuFIngzw5zCmHgEmoojO-qNb8IIx1p_bvfdGFLbizA4fddjPYgqqLtwJ-_FAM2qFiJN39jT5U40ful3pLbsNtgRz99zXAh6YsPI55KPm1foYYDZA0NoYrkjlDBlDjs/s4272/Water%20of%20Leith%20(3).JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2856" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiADUsesHVxZTUKfDNp1y7Pb2CyoQGGTDmuEBmUXKsn1W90FWm3ItUaBL15k1UAQGuFIngzw5zCmHgEmoojO-qNb8IIx1p_bvfdGFLbizA4fddjPYgqqLtwJ-_FAM2qFiJN39jT5U40ful3pLbsNtgRz99zXAh6YsPI55KPm1foYYDZA0NoYrkjlDBlDjs/w428-h640/Water%20of%20Leith%20(3).JPG" width="428" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And I was very pleased to see the Swan family out with their many children when they passed silently in a well posed row through the dark water... </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXdsKbIb5UIcjT176NSFN_eoruFnslZpfMhgJvB-zZMuNhEeHAjaxw4HAEzK90Nw0U-Hn2CCBDKsD0ZWTd-8XBdmtNX6opPP31LvHn4f_aMWCkCYQF3pvn1ODsmkHpqEoA-v5r_-2-U4LAGePleDF3nPsoLHBtipDRD_BSwbDEQ3NTyBkc-_4fPboKgXs/s2409/Img_7485%20cygnets%20on%20Water%20of%20Leith.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1344" data-original-width="2409" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXdsKbIb5UIcjT176NSFN_eoruFnslZpfMhgJvB-zZMuNhEeHAjaxw4HAEzK90Nw0U-Hn2CCBDKsD0ZWTd-8XBdmtNX6opPP31LvHn4f_aMWCkCYQF3pvn1ODsmkHpqEoA-v5r_-2-U4LAGePleDF3nPsoLHBtipDRD_BSwbDEQ3NTyBkc-_4fPboKgXs/w640-h358/Img_7485%20cygnets%20on%20Water%20of%20Leith.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">We were in Edinburgh for three nights, and when we finally returned to London on the train the sun had returned. This is Berwick upon Tweed, which looks handsome from the bridge. Mind you I've never actually been there, but as the countryside rolled past the windows I thought I'd make a few more trips around these islands in parts far away from London and Suffolk. Just to remind myself that they're there. </p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4i3uh2hD07TpU2tgAVjkqFc9imOCu4ctwfKgY1GjNlSDEXFTi5UaG-Trm4A5_sp3Ylm5fqEMPZRUY9afdUTgQgxYNRfbpkhG9BFBFzMVLyWJGNNpNKuA5bLbFQ9ozTKytLwYbanR2vBiDf632WHukJeXC3QodJM0H05q7ryMC0MTKxaxhrcRPNT0F6w0/s1198/Berwick%20on%20tweed%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="674" data-original-width="1198" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4i3uh2hD07TpU2tgAVjkqFc9imOCu4ctwfKgY1GjNlSDEXFTi5UaG-Trm4A5_sp3Ylm5fqEMPZRUY9afdUTgQgxYNRfbpkhG9BFBFzMVLyWJGNNpNKuA5bLbFQ9ozTKytLwYbanR2vBiDf632WHukJeXC3QodJM0H05q7ryMC0MTKxaxhrcRPNT0F6w0/w640-h360/Berwick%20on%20tweed%201.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Have you taken a short break anywhere recently? </div><br /><p></p>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com61tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-71961020814735140582023-04-10T13:26:01.263+01:002023-07-31T17:29:07.182+01:00Coronation, Cherubs, And Baffled in Turin. <p style="text-align: center;"> I posted an account of my trip to Turin long ago on Easter Monday. Then I tried to alter it on my phone, failed, and messed it up. So I took it all down again. It's a little way down this page, and I hope you don't mind the delay! </p><p style="text-align: center;">The Coronation of Charles III has been our big event here in England! It mostly pelted with rain, so I didn't go out all day, but put the TV on instead. Our picnic in the communal garden was abandoned and the rain continued into the night. </p><p style="text-align: center;">But yesterday things improved and we visited a nearby street party. Everyone was out with tables, and chairs, food, games music and socialising. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFCi4RoeivC5k9vRA26WgvoR6VsKThDSbhGtn9Xqy5zWLMGwA64Ys5p1Nw6q_JFgG63uM_VzyjmntFWHImmjHzOKBt0AxlMcKUWNKMoFyV4bwazdIzVKwcLCjsrcoYJPfyQ1MQAKWfs1wOcaZM1U3Xb_d5vZ7_UfsMJkscwmGnOkOxK5ZZG5HJU36d/s1110/Street%20party%20in%20Maresfield%20Gardens.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="624" data-original-width="1110" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFCi4RoeivC5k9vRA26WgvoR6VsKThDSbhGtn9Xqy5zWLMGwA64Ys5p1Nw6q_JFgG63uM_VzyjmntFWHImmjHzOKBt0AxlMcKUWNKMoFyV4bwazdIzVKwcLCjsrcoYJPfyQ1MQAKWfs1wOcaZM1U3Xb_d5vZ7_UfsMJkscwmGnOkOxK5ZZG5HJU36d/w640-h360/Street%20party%20in%20Maresfield%20Gardens.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Regarding the ceremony, I thought Charles looked tired, not that I was surprised. At 74, he's the oldest monarch ever to be crowned in England, so is entitled not to romp through it. True, he's used to pomp and ceremony but even a fairly young fit person might find it tough to wear those heavy robes for hours and carry around those huge metal and rock objects. (Srange to think of gold and jewels like that, perhaps, but .... well, that's what they are!) I did wonder, also, how he felt when his older son kissed him in homage, but the younger one looked on on this biggest day of his life, having rejected all that he stood for. </p><p style="text-align: center;">He looked a lot happier out on the balcony at Buckingham Palace, and no doubt felt pleased that all had gone well. I believe he has always tried to do his duty, like his mother and father did, and I wish him all the best in his reign. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">So, back to Turin. The idea had been to go to Paris and take a train in a big loop from Paris to Turin, then Genoa and then Marseille, and then back to London. So one March morning, after a pleasant overnight in Paris, we set off to Gare de Lyon to Turin. As you see from its clock, we arrived pretty early to begin our trip to Italy. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwkMjAt9rtK7XJG9CjtavqtHE7FKoLJRsdGCtzuXYz4CszNHMCOdHnWNK9PF5O4O4-Se2tdwc1-zzP5_yy4HmIZo2RsPILw9vlb9syaiCiNiTA7OkxdIGU_Netmk0f85S1uyLp3ZEnqECrYhforeMz37yFf-4YAp3siYCgtRDoQ8OAqsIVWm3IQnp1/s2283/P2180004%20Gare%20de%20Lyon%20clocktower.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2175" data-original-width="2283" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwkMjAt9rtK7XJG9CjtavqtHE7FKoLJRsdGCtzuXYz4CszNHMCOdHnWNK9PF5O4O4-Se2tdwc1-zzP5_yy4HmIZo2RsPILw9vlb9syaiCiNiTA7OkxdIGU_Netmk0f85S1uyLp3ZEnqECrYhforeMz37yFf-4YAp3siYCgtRDoQ8OAqsIVWm3IQnp1/s320/P2180004%20Gare%20de%20Lyon%20clocktower.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"> BUT.... instead of the usual bustle of a big station, we were greeted with empty spaces and long queues of despondent people. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ldgNzbrriWhLkm6el9HUnhjsaaWzZ_PNotjJza91-VtYAOg31scKYJKbNF4SA4m691xhQiaOLaijzfQzvkV7IT5qGHi3dIDr4EkRkjxGjQjocn7-zy-mkbG3rTw32dD1CXyzx5bzyP39pCxmfmNP-MhM_xdXw_-JHV-Mu9_7l5rxX7oN27LGiHWW/s1564/IMG_20230314_132708689.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="1564" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ldgNzbrriWhLkm6el9HUnhjsaaWzZ_PNotjJza91-VtYAOg31scKYJKbNF4SA4m691xhQiaOLaijzfQzvkV7IT5qGHi3dIDr4EkRkjxGjQjocn7-zy-mkbG3rTw32dD1CXyzx5bzyP39pCxmfmNP-MhM_xdXw_-JHV-Mu9_7l5rxX7oN27LGiHWW/w640-h360/IMG_20230314_132708689.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Rail strikes, which should have finished the day before, were escalating instead. All was chaos. </div><div style="text-align: center;">We'd booked accommodation in Turin that night, but no tickets to <i>anywhere</i> were being sold at the station that day. And plane, bus, and hire car were simply not practical. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">To cut a long story short, after several tiring hours of queueing and arguing, we got a later train and believe me I jumped like a cat on a mouse on the chance to stand in its corridor for six hours!! Not the best trip, I'll admit. If you're sitting on your luggage, you don't see out of the windows. So the beautiful Alpine scenery on route rushed past the windows unseen. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">We were shattered the next day, but I don't <i>think </i>that put me off Turin. Nevertheless, the city seemed so much darker and sterner and colder and grander than I'd expected, and I never quite warmed to it. It was hard to find pleasant parks and gardens and little neighbourhood squares to sit in on a sunny day and watch the world go by. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Of course there were lots of good things. My favourite was a small and under-publicised museum called <a href="https://www.fondazioneaccorsi-ometto.it/">Fondazione Accorsi-Ometto</a>, It's a mansion full of the lifetimes' acquisitions of art collector Pietro Accorsi. Don't look it up online - even though it's absolutely charming, nearly all the focus is on Mr. Accorsi's valuable paintings and furniture, with very little about the intensely personal, humorous nature of the place. It seemed so full of colour, interest and character to me. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Of all the things there, my favourite was a room of hand painted Chinese wallpaper, showing a detailed panorama of old Chinese daily life. As well as being amusing and intriguing, it is also touching and mysterious, because the world it portrays has passed beyond living memory. I couldn't find much information about it. But I still loved it, so let me try to show you why.... </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Here is most of one panel. Do you see in the middle, on the left, are two people? They're standing on a box or table with nobody taking any notice of them. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KxNG2rZrj6M9ahf2rO_pIiVMMHuu9Udlak8cgzCkVWgxAJHf0f6iFAj9ZDYZX-Eufg8fcNj-ZaX27h9Ah3_Y0fBXNcQ0ntfhHAUUaos_8ajiOYs4gzrJRRp27DZIfdSB_dMqXGSuYChHjqAM9jtgyUwOrwFsBTniaucHzu1_boy33C5owyWc-mo_/s4000/whole%20picture%20with%20banner.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KxNG2rZrj6M9ahf2rO_pIiVMMHuu9Udlak8cgzCkVWgxAJHf0f6iFAj9ZDYZX-Eufg8fcNj-ZaX27h9Ah3_Y0fBXNcQ0ntfhHAUUaos_8ajiOYs4gzrJRRp27DZIfdSB_dMqXGSuYChHjqAM9jtgyUwOrwFsBTniaucHzu1_boy33C5owyWc-mo_/w480-h640/whole%20picture%20with%20banner.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Go closer (below) and they are larger, clad in finery, and carried on a box by four men. Are these people actors so skilled they can perform on a small box being carried over mud roads? Are they statues being taken to some new site? Or are they actually rich people who choose to live out their lives in full public view while trying not to fall off? Whatever they are, nobody cares. Even the woman with the howling child doesn't spare them a glance.... </div></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnSqm_pbRkk6vtPDZmYMVgTy1mMvaPFpWhX8q-xmKmfPAdTlgvNeyA0Nk3t3nk2O_9_ntSocAr0YAL6v0fyhiqJIf_DoLrIhz3ddkxBQUcpq8LLJc36GBsQV-evuYOQLZadM5Y2a-dqpaUcXXo9Q5MgfFId3uq6VjwJbUxYRG4GbP0bXJ48w9DhCo/s4000/Img_5010%20with%20rice%20and%20waterwheel.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQnSqm_pbRkk6vtPDZmYMVgTy1mMvaPFpWhX8q-xmKmfPAdTlgvNeyA0Nk3t3nk2O_9_ntSocAr0YAL6v0fyhiqJIf_DoLrIhz3ddkxBQUcpq8LLJc36GBsQV-evuYOQLZadM5Y2a-dqpaUcXXo9Q5MgfFId3uq6VjwJbUxYRG4GbP0bXJ48w9DhCo/w640-h480/Img_5010%20with%20rice%20and%20waterwheel.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div>And anyway, what about this woman and child? She carries a basket , so perhaps she's carrying something to market. The little lad is being pulled along, crying. Is off to a school he hates? Or can't he go to school even though he wants to? Who knows? They're surrounded by tiny rice paddies with half naked peasants toiling knee deep amongst wet rice plants. And there on the right are a richly dressed group carrying placards and flags and emblems. Are they part of a noble household? Perhaps that's the nobleman on the horse, the only one not walking? </div><div><br /></div></div>But ah, though, see the wider picture. (below) He's got a companion, also on horseback, They are accompanied by servants carrying things which could either be luggage or gifts, and they're emerging from a sturdy building. Perhaps they're going hunting or maybe on a trip to visit some important person. On a path at bottom left of the rice field is a peasant with a bird perched on his outstretched arm. Is he a hunter of small mammals? A birdcatcher? Whatever, he seems to be working with the tradesman with the two tall baskets, presumably collecting small livestock to sell. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnC5v3kBaxSOhyMlxP3_vPx3r2QYruW8-8XKK8TqIQpOo8JewdJSWrtQh1xP8mKC_6X-CXTOBMT1qW9Law3Pi5w8VfiGr7yiebT_8Q3ND8XM7OZSvgi-YHwEy9zKQJ7o5s9eFFFQuPAwupwNqnsRW7DXFxc5_KPvghLrrKqJX5yAqMZJhyfllTJLVm/s2948/grand%20people%20and%20birdcatcher.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1888" data-original-width="2948" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnC5v3kBaxSOhyMlxP3_vPx3r2QYruW8-8XKK8TqIQpOo8JewdJSWrtQh1xP8mKC_6X-CXTOBMT1qW9Law3Pi5w8VfiGr7yiebT_8Q3ND8XM7OZSvgi-YHwEy9zKQJ7o5s9eFFFQuPAwupwNqnsRW7DXFxc5_KPvghLrrKqJX5yAqMZJhyfllTJLVm/w640-h410/grand%20people%20and%20birdcatcher.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Back to the big picture and look at the top left. A red and black banner flows down a waterfall, a magnificent sight on a river. It is probably associated with the building And that's probably a temple, with a broken old wall with flags at the entrance, with someone reading important words from a scroll. There is a pole with some mysterious emblem, and two ladies watching. A religious ceremony? A trial? Is that poor kneeling figure in his straw hat praying or pleading to the well dressed figures surrounding him? <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjblAMUfT1crXDbsTXXcOzV9rYc_CuOhVMl67BckY1l4h2qDl1KwfE7oERrMLBJKC3qPl1kfm0d7lC9Ba4pONXzIB-idFbhgCSy2dnpvx-jeXC8-2yQC0Z6DAbRoekbncFwP8tWsteEKrBaaJqQHYXVc8YisZGBRNumy7MMo-1tTnEdhDfbXs79wKOt/s1638/waterwheel%20rice%20and%20ceremonies.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1238" data-original-width="1638" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjblAMUfT1crXDbsTXXcOzV9rYc_CuOhVMl67BckY1l4h2qDl1KwfE7oERrMLBJKC3qPl1kfm0d7lC9Ba4pONXzIB-idFbhgCSy2dnpvx-jeXC8-2yQC0Z6DAbRoekbncFwP8tWsteEKrBaaJqQHYXVc8YisZGBRNumy7MMo-1tTnEdhDfbXs79wKOt/w640-h484/waterwheel%20rice%20and%20ceremonies.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh, what does it all mean? If only this fine little museum would put its treasures into their cultural context. The whole teeming lost world of lovers and ladies and tradesmen and labourers and women and ceremony and entertainment, and it's all such a mystery. All i can say is, if you are an expert on Chinese art, or if you know of a description and explanation of the wallpaper, please get in touch - I'd love to know! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I spent half a day admiring the many other wonderful things in the Accorsi-Ometto, and could have stayed more. Some highlights - well, I'd love a few bits of this brassware in my kitchen. And see the lifesized "silent companion" lady servant figures in the back, keeping everything clean and tidy? The dresser was full of animal china of wonderful quality. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz7kGaIAE-MOKTYir16dZS7u7D27JaChuz4oVElsDjR7tblo4RoE_MzicwF1luEmQccFP9IFFAWw0cXtG14q8DO758ZTktuGvRuAvOgYK8S6Bqcu9uIAHvPzJ0G0irLKQVDdCFu77pCrUjW-FTHxMchBmvoBumsNTKEahDyti_d2IkC1N8z-DURfn/s1564/IMG_20230317_125723185%20kitchen.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="1564" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz7kGaIAE-MOKTYir16dZS7u7D27JaChuz4oVElsDjR7tblo4RoE_MzicwF1luEmQccFP9IFFAWw0cXtG14q8DO758ZTktuGvRuAvOgYK8S6Bqcu9uIAHvPzJ0G0irLKQVDdCFu77pCrUjW-FTHxMchBmvoBumsNTKEahDyti_d2IkC1N8z-DURfn/w640-h360/IMG_20230317_125723185%20kitchen.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And the most wondrous birds, butterflies, flowers and bees were found throughout the place, making you feel as if you had a grandstand view of a magical natural scene. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgQeGFoKLfYJDhfISa39atD10m72paPlO6nErCkAl_ZlBGJMG4AxAeRuKiCVq8gqruHxAYj2JdG2jyEBKApf6SN3MSizburVMhxE5nqzcfsp_es04lb3Kkam9ELjZ8osIJ4sRwHfYo25lL1D0TsMQkT3-03PC7XaKCgRI5ZT_IGlB7iCxcikpA73_/s2946/lamp%20and%20walls.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2904" data-original-width="2946" height="630" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgQeGFoKLfYJDhfISa39atD10m72paPlO6nErCkAl_ZlBGJMG4AxAeRuKiCVq8gqruHxAYj2JdG2jyEBKApf6SN3MSizburVMhxE5nqzcfsp_es04lb3Kkam9ELjZ8osIJ4sRwHfYo25lL1D0TsMQkT3-03PC7XaKCgRI5ZT_IGlB7iCxcikpA73_/w640-h630/lamp%20and%20walls.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWn-rpnTBbuKCgkboLaVdEM-Kp7ChTPFNOyBJmh0lD0FEoJSY4Wu57H_-e_ThC1Tfx6zd1ctrRHSLlANUFReCu0vkEVKLCYQET5f0dXm6xLisR1V1_shiWvgBTyriInbu1vr5ukcnJeaGQwR8CjzQgEj1LnLB9U7vEIMeSeeeTpMlfVLEP8yd90qC_/s4000/birds%20on%20walls.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWn-rpnTBbuKCgkboLaVdEM-Kp7ChTPFNOyBJmh0lD0FEoJSY4Wu57H_-e_ThC1Tfx6zd1ctrRHSLlANUFReCu0vkEVKLCYQET5f0dXm6xLisR1V1_shiWvgBTyriInbu1vr5ukcnJeaGQwR8CjzQgEj1LnLB9U7vEIMeSeeeTpMlfVLEP8yd90qC_/w640-h480/birds%20on%20walls.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> I was intrigued by the beautiful but crazy marble statue of a seller of cherubs shown below. I expect that you, like me, think of cherubs as sort of baby children. So I was shocked to see this bored looking peasant woman taking one out of its cage and displaying it to a ladylike pair who obviously had a house to decorate. They all clearly saw the cherubs as a species of animal. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I gave myself a mental shake when I thought this, since I know that actually cherubs are totally fictional anyway, and so neither human nor animal. But on thinking about it, I think they might be a great deal happier as animals. Real humans would get mightily tired of sitting up on ceilings and on columns for years on end, whereas many members of the animal kingdom would be perfectly happy to do so. Spiders, for instance. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpdb65QPWA_gZi_Yf3exOgSdKbU37gKaNntCtWnYGpAR4bW08dQ4Eq2DEAVnF1rDPrykoJ8rBMpFb44hj8Ay84SynlZoM9n-w7KxWpsilGzQTtWSMwdvybFdB9F0ahljG8gq9LAedxxdkzemLEK82CO64QfNec432cGDREMxfeghvnBPUyV1JnMYG/s2910/cherub%20seller.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2910" data-original-width="2665" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpdb65QPWA_gZi_Yf3exOgSdKbU37gKaNntCtWnYGpAR4bW08dQ4Eq2DEAVnF1rDPrykoJ8rBMpFb44hj8Ay84SynlZoM9n-w7KxWpsilGzQTtWSMwdvybFdB9F0ahljG8gq9LAedxxdkzemLEK82CO64QfNec432cGDREMxfeghvnBPUyV1JnMYG/w586-h640/cherub%20seller.jpg" width="586" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">What do you think? LOL</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So this lovely little museum charmed me, made me think and entertained me and I'd definitely return if I went to Turin, just to see it all over again. An additional bonus is that the staff were so friendly and helpful that they made it a pleasure to be there. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">By contrast, the most famous museum in town is about cinema. Before I visited, I wasn't sure that a provincial Italian town could have a world class cinema museum, but I really was wrong. I thought it was amazing, and not just because of what was in it. For a start, it's situated in one of the most noticeable buildings I've ever seen. If you don't believe me, look at the panorama of Turin below, a view which I took from high above the town on a country hillside. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6PhxSsNRD40JAzPBqyYartPUvpeZFOq-rLTGCgAqIoeYXihT3i6_2VexOMAJN-AKrpdBwKI6JPvPk5X9c3xOP0aerjpltYkEz-acaoKEyQkDKeT98gfduNr1XaOWQXmnC_qVeZNhhDe9ElDXbr6MCSND1JhD-6-YPrwO4yTrCmhsCa22ssY6obh1E/s2925/view%20of%20mole.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1617" data-original-width="2925" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6PhxSsNRD40JAzPBqyYartPUvpeZFOq-rLTGCgAqIoeYXihT3i6_2VexOMAJN-AKrpdBwKI6JPvPk5X9c3xOP0aerjpltYkEz-acaoKEyQkDKeT98gfduNr1XaOWQXmnC_qVeZNhhDe9ElDXbr6MCSND1JhD-6-YPrwO4yTrCmhsCa22ssY6obh1E/w640-h354/view%20of%20mole.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Yes, you can see the cinema museum. There it is! This domed construction, nearly three times the height of the surrounding buildings, is called "Mole Antonelliana" and construction started on it nearly 200 years ago. It is completely unique, and if you are interested, you can learn a little more about it <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mole_Antonelliana">here. </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Like Accorsi-Ometto this museum is really wonderful, but I found it considerably more frustrating. In fact, I was peeved that I couldn't see more of it. I hadn't a clue that if you bought a ticket on the door, they might not let you actually go inside for many hours. And that they would sell you a ticket with a very late entry time, so even when you had got in, you had far too little time to see the museum before it closed. . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But I was so impressed with what I did see. The museum has made good use of its remarkable building and constructed a gigantic glass lift which rises through the middle of the entire building and into the dome, offering panoramic views of Turin from an outside walkway. So many curious things are glimpsed through the lift's glass walls...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2o1KFFf7ciWCoC86y1xsla7XpSSQRkUGHqFzPlUMKvTZmrrtmSvH2lKVvtvdHvX-JlmnlbxMULEhbnoVz2U3d9YpZbKvSk2ExiFKtOpgn73dPRU5PSwqcmYy-TbNiRAPj6X7jmizl1nGJfNteqckgj2hEbnR3QJaC_XCvMeXFi26Xr4u9kVCSELa8/s3960/creepy%20door.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3960" data-original-width="2814" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2o1KFFf7ciWCoC86y1xsla7XpSSQRkUGHqFzPlUMKvTZmrrtmSvH2lKVvtvdHvX-JlmnlbxMULEhbnoVz2U3d9YpZbKvSk2ExiFKtOpgn73dPRU5PSwqcmYy-TbNiRAPj6X7jmizl1nGJfNteqckgj2hEbnR3QJaC_XCvMeXFi26Xr4u9kVCSELa8/w454-h640/creepy%20door.jpg" width="454" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_uNh-rbykJtVjVQTNdbz3LPyXafAfewjBL3YXS3xj2whoPlOAE2KA3mp9iTXzz4lBbjE--fdvlOM13Cx4-V-nH1haTyhCnhYKwjMRQfeW--XZJxIn98oDSh6YMotomIxJD5jzaLhfz8v9PFI0deUq-BIRFPIskgaSiuyPhcHpmzbiURaVXTJttrQ/s1714/P2200484%20figure%20in%20blue%20arch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1306" data-original-width="1714" height="488" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_uNh-rbykJtVjVQTNdbz3LPyXafAfewjBL3YXS3xj2whoPlOAE2KA3mp9iTXzz4lBbjE--fdvlOM13Cx4-V-nH1haTyhCnhYKwjMRQfeW--XZJxIn98oDSh6YMotomIxJD5jzaLhfz8v9PFI0deUq-BIRFPIskgaSiuyPhcHpmzbiURaVXTJttrQ/w640-h488/P2200484%20figure%20in%20blue%20arch.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbT6LHd5SHOEe0UaNlfEXCU4sP-ZoBEpetzGtwSnbeL9_VUgINXE75CRBJhx-Ox6P6tzbkjNQEL3wDAG9_T09qRoTZjNoy0tpffzQZHwDqrfzIqABj2ICP_6lVTu7gwR1cStfaJHYsqOXy4CT8nYAWI5oQcIHmHThxU6bAXMADdHFKNQHLDegslBbl/s4000/IMG_5126.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbT6LHd5SHOEe0UaNlfEXCU4sP-ZoBEpetzGtwSnbeL9_VUgINXE75CRBJhx-Ox6P6tzbkjNQEL3wDAG9_T09qRoTZjNoy0tpffzQZHwDqrfzIqABj2ICP_6lVTu7gwR1cStfaJHYsqOXy4CT8nYAWI5oQcIHmHThxU6bAXMADdHFKNQHLDegslBbl/w480-h640/IMG_5126.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div>After the lift, we started the tour, on the "archaeology of film", as they called it - the pre history of film, before cinematography got going. It had one of the best collections i've ever seen of magic lanterns, toy theatres, peepshows, mechanical music and other ingenious old fashioned curiosities <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydkcxpA4XGP8csIugctZXiS64aRzFbd6-Y1_vlyEAOWC4cP4Ia-1BxIIvitOfTprq5SJ7m2B6ZNVJ_ePChEwc0atzVxg9tYDwQoWu8LoevdseFIeBVLfYB5IlwHyghEJVjJlCwGc0zpq2LAX8cLBgOTXhLr-kbKM-jwhzH4qDZQbiL7XaYKmwcU7h/s4000/IMG_5109.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydkcxpA4XGP8csIugctZXiS64aRzFbd6-Y1_vlyEAOWC4cP4Ia-1BxIIvitOfTprq5SJ7m2B6ZNVJ_ePChEwc0atzVxg9tYDwQoWu8LoevdseFIeBVLfYB5IlwHyghEJVjJlCwGc0zpq2LAX8cLBgOTXhLr-kbKM-jwhzH4qDZQbiL7XaYKmwcU7h/w640-h480/IMG_5109.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibAICNEMfX0j0C79fsPgfwSEwmVOmKLkURu8B0_RwKM_LrCCkWa-PGkwb-XylkChwXA4uXDWULGcHq1gm2yiqALr2ugK-M0KuB-Fji8kkTSmUTzayD8J4GmWDbt2PnwvHdMCuzK1l5TreNpDqmTBghHhx7WGro3bJ8bP46sJHq9YXhNPGM10o1H4sJ/s4000/IMG_5123.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibAICNEMfX0j0C79fsPgfwSEwmVOmKLkURu8B0_RwKM_LrCCkWa-PGkwb-XylkChwXA4uXDWULGcHq1gm2yiqALr2ugK-M0KuB-Fji8kkTSmUTzayD8J4GmWDbt2PnwvHdMCuzK1l5TreNpDqmTBghHhx7WGro3bJ8bP46sJHq9YXhNPGM10o1H4sJ/w640-h480/IMG_5123.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4on69OGLuLkkJy8-dbo2d9JQK3l8-fPv4CRRwItYiIsD-GslQOCerji9XascLSVbim6gO-e-g_AjfwjOmQz0q5wGuYEIXDmnZLAJDo_xsgjwZnOs4pxsIL75dlgQ_f_wDQcjiNy7APU-T9sSUDNT2g3WLkcMK0j59Ji4JUZVszmeKaNKALMhR4Au/s4272/magic%20lanterns.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4on69OGLuLkkJy8-dbo2d9JQK3l8-fPv4CRRwItYiIsD-GslQOCerji9XascLSVbim6gO-e-g_AjfwjOmQz0q5wGuYEIXDmnZLAJDo_xsgjwZnOs4pxsIL75dlgQ_f_wDQcjiNy7APU-T9sSUDNT2g3WLkcMK0j59Ji4JUZVszmeKaNKALMhR4Au/w640-h428/magic%20lanterns.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">And some cool sets and props... like the giant fridge and room full of toilets. They almost certainly relate to some film or other. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TrBsBoVqfRiYf3_ZwLI1IjdB5OXrm-kSHoD_AJ_mXWIemX8gxPqXKUdgNpSBrnio7sJLGb3nOMiZnIOEnAmFUY0XVBqBc71F_N639T9tFa8Rv1d0LNQ7a1wX5IA5XhEBrDmAD46ynEANZNd8H5rmPefhI6wU2d11QitnCs5cNd8CvQgpR-JnBo_T/s4000/IMG_5141.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TrBsBoVqfRiYf3_ZwLI1IjdB5OXrm-kSHoD_AJ_mXWIemX8gxPqXKUdgNpSBrnio7sJLGb3nOMiZnIOEnAmFUY0XVBqBc71F_N639T9tFa8Rv1d0LNQ7a1wX5IA5XhEBrDmAD46ynEANZNd8H5rmPefhI6wU2d11QitnCs5cNd8CvQgpR-JnBo_T/w480-h640/IMG_5141.JPG" width="480" /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM8HKxAdV0O2qcSJoWjaQNz_Y27AIVq2pdwbcw8e0MF0LwJ4e7LJgdYyjegsCLTvL-9CWMn8GGUSk4478QkFEaT3Edv9ihXGETDd2H2GowzTV9jbVeXpBtjHD0RTq81fEXMQrCbVw0TAfMZRcXQWdGtuWloKFTaPwuodqV7Snh3OVfalr17ouIk6gB/s4000/huge%20fridge.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM8HKxAdV0O2qcSJoWjaQNz_Y27AIVq2pdwbcw8e0MF0LwJ4e7LJgdYyjegsCLTvL-9CWMn8GGUSk4478QkFEaT3Edv9ihXGETDd2H2GowzTV9jbVeXpBtjHD0RTq81fEXMQrCbVw0TAfMZRcXQWdGtuWloKFTaPwuodqV7Snh3OVfalr17ouIk6gB/w480-h640/huge%20fridge.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I recognise this from "!02 Dalmatians." I think. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH0xoVf7xyiYDBnYfBe9FqLlhFxk25swaCGQ3uSEJyZrpNMo8w_loll487lPszPivQ0ckj1qtj3g9A6CqSkd1D3XNzfH47TbwsHRYaf1KtMkIUG8yrhTwnhphLdVbD9kuBgAb61u9_2EwS1bDCCkuupfC6z1uyGnrd9hCEvZGWxZzE1Rdw-qylAeks/s4000/IMG_5154.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH0xoVf7xyiYDBnYfBe9FqLlhFxk25swaCGQ3uSEJyZrpNMo8w_loll487lPszPivQ0ckj1qtj3g9A6CqSkd1D3XNzfH47TbwsHRYaf1KtMkIUG8yrhTwnhphLdVbD9kuBgAb61u9_2EwS1bDCCkuupfC6z1uyGnrd9hCEvZGWxZzE1Rdw-qylAeks/w640-h480/IMG_5154.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGzPEzjj9fl0qpHn9aD_FXWHhVbeJLU5LTmvrNeG7k8Xh8tM_Bo3IqQ0RmpmRMFjqGza9ANil4wd9avlheaG4mVjfyYWJ85Pgvo5TQun-vwtHyAVaeVtC-oHVwoIuuv_0csGe-A9HsLNOyCKvVGYqvmvAUwyZcKakayJDOtCec5KnaozV84pxbWnk/s4000/IMG_5157.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGzPEzjj9fl0qpHn9aD_FXWHhVbeJLU5LTmvrNeG7k8Xh8tM_Bo3IqQ0RmpmRMFjqGza9ANil4wd9avlheaG4mVjfyYWJ85Pgvo5TQun-vwtHyAVaeVtC-oHVwoIuuv_0csGe-A9HsLNOyCKvVGYqvmvAUwyZcKakayJDOtCec5KnaozV84pxbWnk/w640-h480/IMG_5157.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">If I'd had more time I could probably have got the captions of everything, but this was as far as we managed to get. before the staff started closing down at 5.30 to be sure we were all out at 6 pm. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> I don't want to sound as if I am moaning. The place was very busy, so they were obviously doing most things right. And I am sure if I'd had better Italian language skills, I wouldn't have felt so much at sea. But as I said, I never quite felt I gelled with Turin, and everything about it felt like a struggle to me. Not just the museums, but <i>everything. </i> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was a bit of a relief getting on the train for the quirky and charming city of Genoa, and then, a few days later, from Genoa on to Pisa - a place I hadn't expected to revisit (Marseille and Paris remained inaccessible.). Everything improved. The sun came out, people smiled, and you could sit in pavement cafes and feel surrounded by bustle and city life. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So overall it was a good trip, but we returned home with several days of the interrail pass left unused. </div><div style="text-align: center;">And that's fine too. The company have said they'll credit the lost days to our <i>next </i>interrail pass. So now we just have to decide where to go. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It can be anywhere you can reach by train. And, we've just had an invitation from a friend in Dresden, a place I have never been. Sounds promising. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-18546817450386289892023-03-06T17:23:00.005+00:002023-07-31T17:29:53.883+01:00Quilts, Colour and Making Do. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: center;">Isn't this strange?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoX0dYXRNr31pBEiqQGvms4rjh-WHte0ZM1lqawuUMhh-EQbFl5Czj9EzcyHUJr3F3x3LGq1kG63wV_NPVc8FUp1azDy0TxPhrwQVX5OBPmnauxEn67Mu6mlIDY_PZEXSRUXekJAsxnLIV9HuxOgDrsZ0iMQwqul0RXB2058pFTYt0j3MIeizXR_Ov/s4000/Img_4619.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoX0dYXRNr31pBEiqQGvms4rjh-WHte0ZM1lqawuUMhh-EQbFl5Czj9EzcyHUJr3F3x3LGq1kG63wV_NPVc8FUp1azDy0TxPhrwQVX5OBPmnauxEn67Mu6mlIDY_PZEXSRUXekJAsxnLIV9HuxOgDrsZ0iMQwqul0RXB2058pFTYt0j3MIeizXR_Ov/w480-h640/Img_4619.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is a tiny part of the current London <a href="https://fashiontextilemuseum.org/">Fashion and Textile Museum</a> exhibition, which closes on 12th March. It celebrates hangings and quilts using the fabrics of the colourist, Kaffe Fassett. (Can you spot the fragment in this picture of the whole hanging, below? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivl0dtKqNrRkzFdgry1u7ZozBV_-EMQ0CynJT-v-aDHG_nlRNCrP1mHUG8iLRZe3_mgc3CZIYT0uexOjtoOxBLED4gGbptlnJq3abe0MDvIOsk8RS59oMz5P8a4q61MeOtCNGLdg56NtrY8zYOadtpgwHsNWeadxc1_2PRHWcX-EdmWF3cLOo79baK/s3152/Img_4620%20entire.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2068" data-original-width="3152" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivl0dtKqNrRkzFdgry1u7ZozBV_-EMQ0CynJT-v-aDHG_nlRNCrP1mHUG8iLRZe3_mgc3CZIYT0uexOjtoOxBLED4gGbptlnJq3abe0MDvIOsk8RS59oMz5P8a4q61MeOtCNGLdg56NtrY8zYOadtpgwHsNWeadxc1_2PRHWcX-EdmWF3cLOo79baK/w640-h420/Img_4620%20entire.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Kaffe Fassett is obsessed with all kinds of stitching from knitting and crochet to fabric design. Many quiltmakers use his highly detailed fabric to add depth and variety to their work. If you'd like to know more about Kaffe, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLcXr-dt-2I">take a look at this little film</a>, in which he explains what colour means for him. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> The show wasn't large, but there was lots to look at because the quilts are both large and also tremendously detailed and intricate. Here, the varied shapes of the patchwork pieces combine with the print of the fabric and the patterns of the stitching, to create something really complex. (This too is just a tiny corner of a much bigger work)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrjuCG4k8lT5TlMlF1iFT95OHRsREo2-HzB-K6tSfQHUh7R9gAlx15Twi_1GmdRHgGrs6McCEdN_x-LtZ_ejoM5-E27BCl386vbUOrcccnlCGeuSBxTzkLKY2Bhn1BsdiWQ8uCec4jUaw4eUfwsc0XZztqfg8Je9Sw0Rd9xdcqUPj9ij5X31PYGbsr/s4000/patterns%20and%20colours%20stitching.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrjuCG4k8lT5TlMlF1iFT95OHRsREo2-HzB-K6tSfQHUh7R9gAlx15Twi_1GmdRHgGrs6McCEdN_x-LtZ_ejoM5-E27BCl386vbUOrcccnlCGeuSBxTzkLKY2Bhn1BsdiWQ8uCec4jUaw4eUfwsc0XZztqfg8Je9Sw0Rd9xdcqUPj9ij5X31PYGbsr/w640-h480/patterns%20and%20colours%20stitching.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">By contrast, the quilt below is all about straight lines, yet it is so lively and full of movement. that it's hard to believe the diamond shaped pieces are of identical shape and size. (They are, though). It's the printed stripiness of the different fabrics that make it jump. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8AVNWHHjHecQg7v8A5IeoN65ca1Luvez94F4h7CS7JzNWtM6EJGzwKOScFlDRD5ypekhBZppuBJlftKlYKihDvRARmJS4dA888BvD7Ks4CPQ7o2DI9ThuXn2wH8ISLueP32LXbAqcvan4hFcf-0tGOXoNwF5NtymSRJ_Rniz7y3qhQOW85GBmHlHD/s4000/IMG_4585.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8AVNWHHjHecQg7v8A5IeoN65ca1Luvez94F4h7CS7JzNWtM6EJGzwKOScFlDRD5ypekhBZppuBJlftKlYKihDvRARmJS4dA888BvD7Ks4CPQ7o2DI9ThuXn2wH8ISLueP32LXbAqcvan4hFcf-0tGOXoNwF5NtymSRJ_Rniz7y3qhQOW85GBmHlHD/w480-h640/IMG_4585.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The quilts vary a lot in style and content. Some have been inspired by simple ideas, like the <a href="http://collection.folkartmuseum.org/objects/1838/bird-of-paradise-quilt-top?ctx=faaf8542-4e83-4c75-b8f3-bace4e497a4c&idx=23">Birds of Paradise" quilt in the American Folk Art Museum </a>. (Click the link to see this famous old quilt, and then compare it with Patty Harants' 2019 "Civil War Bride", below. I think you'll agree that they're so similar, yet so different, in so many ways. )</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPU9xJxQpRgwXnYQkEz-pYUCizMPr5DTgXnnKGtVNPdj0Sqa0QxWIFRoqyZ3wWPxAiUpKj421OorO2q79dQIKRczbHw5WvEfr-d2uJiAH--tWOvLP7Y71UjgY4S5HH81er76e2W0YFI0PvzvX2FebLjK5a5vcWCJum2vfHNRMqYXMDvjHit23ka0Gw/s4000/IMG_4697.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPU9xJxQpRgwXnYQkEz-pYUCizMPr5DTgXnnKGtVNPdj0Sqa0QxWIFRoqyZ3wWPxAiUpKj421OorO2q79dQIKRczbHw5WvEfr-d2uJiAH--tWOvLP7Y71UjgY4S5HH81er76e2W0YFI0PvzvX2FebLjK5a5vcWCJum2vfHNRMqYXMDvjHit23ka0Gw/w480-h640/IMG_4697.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I won't even try to post everything I noticed in the show, but the zebra below was T's favourite, and one of mine too, so I'll zoom in on it to show you some of the kind of details that blew my mind. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgMeFVz16CQltZss2mYI2pjA8SLJ8gF1bqJ5qSaD84MVl-KM3fPGf3YWXtolB-20wDKy-YyrWa5ejT8lHl62wxnYIpFCPitFPZTRc0EjtuEvqjaTVPXJ5JZerHrhy6QgIRii5RUI4LG4NlxmM_tus4iOY9xqBVVZhP1xImuAGq1ls1lwRY128U_xqW/s3432/zebra%20complete.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3432" data-original-width="2982" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgMeFVz16CQltZss2mYI2pjA8SLJ8gF1bqJ5qSaD84MVl-KM3fPGf3YWXtolB-20wDKy-YyrWa5ejT8lHl62wxnYIpFCPitFPZTRc0EjtuEvqjaTVPXJ5JZerHrhy6QgIRii5RUI4LG4NlxmM_tus4iOY9xqBVVZhP1xImuAGq1ls1lwRY128U_xqW/w556-h640/zebra%20complete.jpg" width="556" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdeRyl4-PfOc3pIpPSgbylr01jBkR3S09-YS8RifQwdjAi4Q8ZFzj1c1UKlYWps1KT5ilxwjc7JR3AG3_ZqaFDRF6fwocmR0CGBt0bu335QTyv3pa_0SsmB8YSJgEwKhqUNp36tkkEDHzO5qjrvt0RwX8e8GeIKfkfET3AzmJOGDMLeyIo0t7fEQE/s4160/zebra%20eye%20very%20close%20up.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2340" data-original-width="4160" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdeRyl4-PfOc3pIpPSgbylr01jBkR3S09-YS8RifQwdjAi4Q8ZFzj1c1UKlYWps1KT5ilxwjc7JR3AG3_ZqaFDRF6fwocmR0CGBt0bu335QTyv3pa_0SsmB8YSJgEwKhqUNp36tkkEDHzO5qjrvt0RwX8e8GeIKfkfET3AzmJOGDMLeyIo0t7fEQE/w640-h360/zebra%20eye%20very%20close%20up.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Above is its eye, and below is part of its mane. You may be able to make out that the shading is created using black thread, sewn in a tiny lacy pattern in multiple layers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0G7GkZy9N4mwxYNIHJZe6ntXZI17oCQhN4SOTXMW0F8Gs9Nt2YburKGVY-udnJxfp71nfVubTMYm1LX0OW1xISOHfGnTvb27gWri6V_CGw2bJnZ5LHwBrbyIKacgkroXbk6L6Dt9_Qhs463B_i3wM4yGWZi0Prkox9dTwbz_gYlMCgVcANkvgcfIl/s4000/zebra%20mane.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0G7GkZy9N4mwxYNIHJZe6ntXZI17oCQhN4SOTXMW0F8Gs9Nt2YburKGVY-udnJxfp71nfVubTMYm1LX0OW1xISOHfGnTvb27gWri6V_CGw2bJnZ5LHwBrbyIKacgkroXbk6L6Dt9_Qhs463B_i3wM4yGWZi0Prkox9dTwbz_gYlMCgVcANkvgcfIl/w640-h480/zebra%20mane.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Below, on its neck, are flowers, perhaps seaweed and certainly little fishes and sea creatures swimming over the stripes. fascinating once you start looking at everything. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevtqF81s2zVKLqXIClc9R3wAvWk_LMRdmiQA4KBG54YVBdFdym9B7fQGOKWV4mT6svMZ0z9K7eHk-GaFAJUvRfMAxmPcZO5QpwcY_0PiN9dLfgRLhIqIoIHDatRTD5VeKNINHiRDFzfR7rbEPHh782vjUGHUAn1SSW6QSSQxNgr1EE9HN9yhQtU2Q/s4000/zebra%20detail%20with%20fishes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevtqF81s2zVKLqXIClc9R3wAvWk_LMRdmiQA4KBG54YVBdFdym9B7fQGOKWV4mT6svMZ0z9K7eHk-GaFAJUvRfMAxmPcZO5QpwcY_0PiN9dLfgRLhIqIoIHDatRTD5VeKNINHiRDFzfR7rbEPHh782vjUGHUAn1SSW6QSSQxNgr1EE9HN9yhQtU2Q/w640-h480/zebra%20detail%20with%20fishes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">If you stare at the pictures for a while, you'll notice more and more for yourself. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Although it is small, this museum puts on so many good shows and I always keep an eye on it. A quarter of a century ago, it was thought up by the fashion designer <a href="https://zandrarhodes.com/">Zandra Rhodes</a>, who probably felt London needed a good small fashion museum to rival the <a href="https://www.palaisgalliera.paris.fr/en/exhibitions/1997-fashion-big-bang">Galleria in Paris </a>(a definite must-see when in Paris, even if you aren't that mad on fashion). So Zandra hired a Mexican architect called Ricardo Legorreta to produce a bright orange and pink building in Bermondsey, not far from London Bridge. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In those days, it seemed an odd choice of location, because Bermondsey was then mostly poor and run down, even though it was also full of character and local life. Its many fascinating corners and interesting buildings seemed outnumbered by big council housing estates and run down tenements. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am sure the museum helped to raise Bermondsey's profile, and maybe that was good. Now the area has deservedly become desirable (though a bit too expensive for my taste). When we emerged, dazzled, from the show, we didn't want to pay £10 each for coffee and cake from the local artisan snack shops, but did want lunch. Luckily old-established Al's Cafe wasn't far away, and for the same price as two sausage rolls and two coffees from the artisans, we got two large well cooked vegetarian lunches and two mugs of tea, served by friendly staff. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipLGa-OWFd67O1ubd3dY7GjyNoPJYaD8w36Epl5MPBDJME9NS1CvlcHZFTfVOntci3zX-YCMTmdZUXmYP6vAxQwL5TyWT_v3hADsANCGo3g9Dv5i-EFeNTXq5o4dJMo1AsBciL6pAUKi3xGsdXYRS37orkVkpiPw0Wcz3c_gWtD7_88G2a77KEprX/s4000/IMG_4713.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipLGa-OWFd67O1ubd3dY7GjyNoPJYaD8w36Epl5MPBDJME9NS1CvlcHZFTfVOntci3zX-YCMTmdZUXmYP6vAxQwL5TyWT_v3hADsANCGo3g9Dv5i-EFeNTXq5o4dJMo1AsBciL6pAUKi3xGsdXYRS37orkVkpiPw0Wcz3c_gWtD7_88G2a77KEprX/w480-h640/IMG_4713.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Al's Cafe also displays some art work of its own, too - a cheerful relief mural of Tower Bridge on the wall, towering over an unfeasibly blue River Thames. It is full of local people, which is usually a good sign, and I recommend it if you're visiting the museum.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7zi4gTcEjTSZIAKBYrgl2pqASzsmaNv5sSGGwk2-wi3rLDmFvS4-X1G2VZf-MVXzuwDGmcCTvd9vefPYi_KFyT2aO_BhAEVxfSRpIkeGMu5k14AMr5KWoFkRlD4SapNpuibIboJPQOdf17kN5CdQIksk76KxDl9lm8WMhhx3k_RkNQxEh3SsdXo1/s3580/tower%20bridge%20mural.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="3580" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7zi4gTcEjTSZIAKBYrgl2pqASzsmaNv5sSGGwk2-wi3rLDmFvS4-X1G2VZf-MVXzuwDGmcCTvd9vefPYi_KFyT2aO_BhAEVxfSRpIkeGMu5k14AMr5KWoFkRlD4SapNpuibIboJPQOdf17kN5CdQIksk76KxDl9lm8WMhhx3k_RkNQxEh3SsdXo1/w640-h536/tower%20bridge%20mural.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just around the corner from Al's Cafe is another bit of traditional Bermondsey, an old building whose open plan ground floor is at present a car workshop. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUT34OXV4d45B7nR2ccIw8gH7P5aeUA_30XdhlAN0undkPTvT71ucSPqLF4OL7kaaEif2uvffvexCBcv08dePzea9tJYS2wHuu5Fuw-fYBmObwroaCnEByhGD397-xkprx54W45YmlJH-AihZ4szVjK9fD-0U_Qj7YVVucgmN2w3fs7s4xRxmytOdr/s4000/IMG_4715.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUT34OXV4d45B7nR2ccIw8gH7P5aeUA_30XdhlAN0undkPTvT71ucSPqLF4OL7kaaEif2uvffvexCBcv08dePzea9tJYS2wHuu5Fuw-fYBmObwroaCnEByhGD397-xkprx54W45YmlJH-AihZ4szVjK9fD-0U_Qj7YVVucgmN2w3fs7s4xRxmytOdr/w480-h640/IMG_4715.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />I noticed two lifesized horses' heads on the fascia, one of which is shown below. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpOdAl9trse-_sSqFPpAcJqe1QfQ3FgoU6TDU8GTIt19tv-cAuipklMDjhAbuqrTm3PLH5_n_Egr3vOipvFzDYDEYxex6fImBa6ogxLc3_lay55qgSVJA7dH__BGfl5NtTC9Y3RwkZAqYSgrPB5txMkEVDCZH0z9U39jySsTqu0VTjc_J6BDQM-0y/s4000/auto%20shop%20with%20horse.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpOdAl9trse-_sSqFPpAcJqe1QfQ3FgoU6TDU8GTIt19tv-cAuipklMDjhAbuqrTm3PLH5_n_Egr3vOipvFzDYDEYxex6fImBa6ogxLc3_lay55qgSVJA7dH__BGfl5NtTC9Y3RwkZAqYSgrPB5txMkEVDCZH0z9U39jySsTqu0VTjc_J6BDQM-0y/w640-h480/auto%20shop%20with%20horse.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> At first, I thought that indicated that the shop had once been a horse-meat butcher. It would have done so in France, for sure - but Brits have never cared for eating horses, so unless this place once served a previously unknown French community, I had to rethink about that. I decided that it must have been a livery stables, caring for horses and hiring out those light carriages called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fly_%28carriage%29">flys</a>, which people took if they didn't want to walk for a few miles. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The change probably came around 1910, when the internal combustion engine blew horse traffic into history. It must have been sad for the many folk who loved working with horses. Perhaps, as they learned to work on the new, noisy, smelly, primitive engines, the owners of this place decided to keep their horse decorations for sentimental reasons? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As we cycled back home across London, it struck me that the poor old place looks shabbier and scruffier than I've seen it for decades. Of course this city has lived through much worse and bounced back, and will again. But I'm not alone in feeling concerned about the feeling that we are getting so poor, and nothing seems to work any more. In fact, this is a topic of conversation which comes up all the time at present. I don't want to get too political here, so thank goodness the Brits haven't taken to the streets and are currently mostly focusing on how to improve matters.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So many people are doing so much to encourage reusing, repairing or just helping others to cope. Our local council has designated certain spots, including local libraries and other public buildings, as "Warm banks" for those who can't afford to heat their homes, and almost every store now has a collection point for the local food bank or food larder (even though the worsening situation is also meaning that many local councils are offering free school meals to kids). Surplus food of all kinds is often well used by organisations providing good cheap or free lunches for anyone who wants to turn up. In fact, while we were searching for lunch in Bermondsey, we could have gone into the beautiful old church (below) and had free tea and cake if we had wanted! (We didn't.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-OaDNTOgbsxhYBP3tzT_rA-uWsPPSN5d4N7B-3aTiW3A1H1e-QQEqJUXX-4f7Hoj0ie38E85v57fkWxSrwB5OwrrUSTNW_8fjKtZWEk8LbE7b_ILMuRbGTLDMaDxrfPMkwoHGInJSS9zpR374YHMPcFOSRCCQcNJrCFpwbfZp8tPv7ma2ImB1i56V/s4000/bermondsey%20st%20sunrain.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-OaDNTOgbsxhYBP3tzT_rA-uWsPPSN5d4N7B-3aTiW3A1H1e-QQEqJUXX-4f7Hoj0ie38E85v57fkWxSrwB5OwrrUSTNW_8fjKtZWEk8LbE7b_ILMuRbGTLDMaDxrfPMkwoHGInJSS9zpR374YHMPcFOSRCCQcNJrCFpwbfZp8tPv7ma2ImB1i56V/w480-h640/bermondsey%20st%20sunrain.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />I'm now getting a bit more involved in activism that will improve matters, and in the spirit of reuse and recycle, T, who trained as an engineer, has started volunteering at <a href="https://www.fixingfactory.org/news/bbclondonfeature">Fixing Factory,</a> which helps local people to repair household goods instead of throwing them away. They open twice a week and are very busy and he is enjoying being in the company of other people who also enjoy fixing things. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It's all inspired him to discover even more about how things work, and he's now dug up some interesting videos from the 1980s by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tim_Hunkin">Tim Hunkin </a> explaining how common household gadgets do what they do. Hunkin started his career as a cartoonist, then moved to making quirky and amusing automatons. His approach has always been highly original so I have really been enjoying the videos. (Originally shot on 16mm on what appears to be an abandoned airfield covered in junk, a rather dishevelled Hunkin tells you in his own unique way what goes inside your household gadgets. Here is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgWh-5DsiQM">the story of the Washing Machine. ) </a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">After being a cartoonist, Hunkin created the extraordinary <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Attractions-g503753-Activities-c56-a_attractionType.SUPPLIERS-Southwold_Suffolk_East_Anglia_England.html">Under the Pier Show</a> in Southwold, Suffolk, and began collaborating with the <a href="https://www.exploratorium.edu/tinkering/tinkerers/tim-hunkin">Exploratorium</a> in San Francisco. He also has is an interactive gallery of his automata in London's Holborn area and has created (according to T.) some interesting material all about materials and glues. Well, I couldn't quite summon up enthusiasm for watching those, but I was all for going to see the gallery. So last week, on a cold and bitter day, we cycled off to Holborn. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiKxoCyjp5KzHofrotkbKZw3kzTXwWf5fpDe0K3c_cOUrRXFpNPckJFcu2yQQMeXAlN0qho3rU2KjybZbXNnq4GJ2TQ1fLrrOaiItQK3O9kimQ_5rjZA2DX3lYHTP3Of1f9KeGqtjX5ACODEj80vlxHZCMYYc5piXKDzp8RZ7EC4gu5hqZhwCTDLM/s2992/novelty%20automation%20entrance.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2992" data-original-width="2896" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiKxoCyjp5KzHofrotkbKZw3kzTXwWf5fpDe0K3c_cOUrRXFpNPckJFcu2yQQMeXAlN0qho3rU2KjybZbXNnq4GJ2TQ1fLrrOaiItQK3O9kimQ_5rjZA2DX3lYHTP3Of1f9KeGqtjX5ACODEj80vlxHZCMYYc5piXKDzp8RZ7EC4gu5hqZhwCTDLM/w620-h640/novelty%20automation%20entrance.jpg" width="620" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.novelty-automation.com/">Novelty Automation</a> is full of interactive dioramas and games. Although roughly constructed, some of the automata seem to have minds of their own, and some definitely (shall we say)<i> impinge</i> on your personal space....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The first thing I did when I arrived was prove how brave I am by putting my hand into the cage of a terrifying diamond-tiara'd hound with glowing red eyes (below). I kept my hand in for quite a long time, pulling out only at the last moment just as the hound snarled, growled and finally lunged. As the morning progressed, the place filled up, and the room began ringing with screams as yet another punter's score rose from "Nervous" to "Reckless." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChTtko0h7jzDv7nKJwpw8uvbN7Lh7rUrzVTkWdxD5DI9caQYbk50fJz_S1UCnF8v-5N_41oMtk-Rv_kKVzt7cXQZ7jSxGjprrVSbwB90Es-QBpovvXHgaJgphSlrI9veItr_R8nbRM1uaqEWceC_QnnEcFxZiXFJWlgniU_vHlDtM5hEmu1-8BNQS/s4272/P2200403.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2856" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChTtko0h7jzDv7nKJwpw8uvbN7Lh7rUrzVTkWdxD5DI9caQYbk50fJz_S1UCnF8v-5N_41oMtk-Rv_kKVzt7cXQZ7jSxGjprrVSbwB90Es-QBpovvXHgaJgphSlrI9veItr_R8nbRM1uaqEWceC_QnnEcFxZiXFJWlgniU_vHlDtM5hEmu1-8BNQS/w428-h640/P2200403.JPG" width="428" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsZFIaMcsuK3H3czWmIkEiKrCSVFQmJAQUeIrlWXNfZW27Q9AUVCONhGmGwB-XtRcOBUhZP-FbthHAzbSJcf8jaY8Svx3bS32kcuvn2LQlClP2Z1AgdvOKzyPRSIEjEnLCwUAXQZdQmwHePsn9aiS56g7NwbC40I4ztg-kKkAd6bqMDJoaqbEwrTzK/s1320/reckless%20normal%20etc.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1320" data-original-width="1272" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsZFIaMcsuK3H3czWmIkEiKrCSVFQmJAQUeIrlWXNfZW27Q9AUVCONhGmGwB-XtRcOBUhZP-FbthHAzbSJcf8jaY8Svx3bS32kcuvn2LQlClP2Z1AgdvOKzyPRSIEjEnLCwUAXQZdQmwHePsn9aiS56g7NwbC40I4ztg-kKkAd6bqMDJoaqbEwrTzK/w616-h640/reckless%20normal%20etc.jpg" width="616" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">You really have to go there to get an idea of what the place is like, but just to give you an idea, we operated a paparazzi drone to spy on cardboard celebrities in a big white mansion and volunteered for the Amazon Fulfilment Center worker game (You are represented by the pink figure with the arrow pointing to it on the picture below). Just like happens with the real Amazon, you think at first you can cope, then find how hard it is to keep the pace up while the clock counts relentlessly down. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbsRDiSl0WMCjXgFJWjCxvAsjNLf_G1gSwqbualxvQ2kOaiXU2OwrOWg2xIyRJwTsAMuoVGkq3B0muDpuZtf4iO3MX_GgLwNJFq4_z-VZO9KeUq3bsjkgNSjJzLknaKYaLx19huR5TvuGPbnZ7y0wqdLF0A5pSSKIuHFT1ltC5LqnXDdQnGi-h3ziM/s3960/fulfilment%20center.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3960" data-original-width="2790" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbsRDiSl0WMCjXgFJWjCxvAsjNLf_G1gSwqbualxvQ2kOaiXU2OwrOWg2xIyRJwTsAMuoVGkq3B0muDpuZtf4iO3MX_GgLwNJFq4_z-VZO9KeUq3bsjkgNSjJzLknaKYaLx19huR5TvuGPbnZ7y0wqdLF0A5pSSKIuHFT1ltC5LqnXDdQnGi-h3ziM/w450-h640/fulfilment%20center.jpg" width="450" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We both tried but ultimately ended up with nothing, except best wishes for finding another job. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_mC_8kexRVBvHLUE25cOMJXn_yJHFutjCCUryS6wO9V8nuSXsbkLbC7L9IP8sR-pCEZZv5yplCtN5tjXX7LjovGm9SmU6oZcgxDr10NXnu485oSPswzF9S4IIYmYdYoTv3WWEFCDFe8potrDc68WGa0Zf9Yv2yBROQTLyqweqbtUE42AMuMddEYyU/s4000/allotted%20time%20exceeded.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_mC_8kexRVBvHLUE25cOMJXn_yJHFutjCCUryS6wO9V8nuSXsbkLbC7L9IP8sR-pCEZZv5yplCtN5tjXX7LjovGm9SmU6oZcgxDr10NXnu485oSPswzF9S4IIYmYdYoTv3WWEFCDFe8potrDc68WGa0Zf9Yv2yBROQTLyqweqbtUE42AMuMddEYyU/w480-h640/allotted%20time%20exceeded.JPG" width="480" /></a></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">T's favourite game, and perhaps mine, was set in a banking district, complete with sound effects, as you try to sneak money past the eyes of the financial regulators into your personal pot. (He managed to make a billion dollars, as you see, LOL). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWri3a3WsY64HCVSn-evvS2X6_SXPYuqwpusgMQJwwGxo0klf-jG1Oh4kt-YTDlCgztoG88yNR1oqF044MIFS_3HxT0w4pbklz_Z--lLxKr0KLds-sVKEPJI4v81YcvYwJiUaOJ06Fyt4cAQK_PNQiagclxWdCs8wLz1_CRCAhq07ggE3E4RM85B4/s1506/one%20billion%20cut.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1209" data-original-width="1506" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWri3a3WsY64HCVSn-evvS2X6_SXPYuqwpusgMQJwwGxo0klf-jG1Oh4kt-YTDlCgztoG88yNR1oqF044MIFS_3HxT0w4pbklz_Z--lLxKr0KLds-sVKEPJI4v81YcvYwJiUaOJ06Fyt4cAQK_PNQiagclxWdCs8wLz1_CRCAhq07ggE3E4RM85B4/w640-h514/one%20billion%20cut.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">We went and had lunch after our Novelty Automaton visit in <a href="https://www.stmartin-in-the-fields.org/visit/cafe-in-the-crypt/?gclid=CjwKCAiAmJGgBhAZEiwA1JZolnpK-sX2dqrP6TdzDOIkgYpHwYjlXishNJhlxHK-EcXFrPnglwIahRoCNzkQAvD_BwE">The Cafe in the Crypt of St Martins-in-the-Fields</a>. It's a huge and imposing church whose crypt really does contain a cafe - its profits help subsidise the church's outreach work with drug addicts. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpL3Vs9M7SHqOR-RAGhQJuA6sDqvtQ1mSeS2hOGGOOVijQ5EsXZ8xflb_wDH1IzDMamcse05_s_EJWPMWgXGnMZ5XrnGjKh4BbdaZw6Ym2bkrTxlXnLig6v8I0YsREuML2prpT0uR4PhE7vIyYzrI9nXJE3tcdxP3-PVyphpAvhX2Z8jY7af-20e6/s3648/st%20martins..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="2736" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpL3Vs9M7SHqOR-RAGhQJuA6sDqvtQ1mSeS2hOGGOOVijQ5EsXZ8xflb_wDH1IzDMamcse05_s_EJWPMWgXGnMZ5XrnGjKh4BbdaZw6Ym2bkrTxlXnLig6v8I0YsREuML2prpT0uR4PhE7vIyYzrI9nXJE3tcdxP3-PVyphpAvhX2Z8jY7af-20e6/w480-h640/st%20martins..jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;">Despite being completely underground, the cafe is a bright and cheerful refuge, the food is good and in this unusually bitter weather it was great to be insulated from the cold outside. Another plus about going there is that there are many other things than food to enjoy. Brass rubbing, concerts, exhibitions and, obviously, some very interesting memorials (it is a crypt, after all). I always say hi to <a href="https://www.londonremembers.com/memorials/henry-croft-tomb">Henry Croft, the first King of the Pearlies</a> who must have been very well worth knowing! And a friend who is a builder once told me that the fine quality of the old brickwork in the crypt gave him huge pleasure. "The guys that built this thought the crypt would always be too dark to see the quality - but they still did it as well as they could," he said. "I find that inspiring." </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mqULBDYBXtHGCHJetKdnL-6cXOxjzi6wOcVxedlmb3XN-jDyZ65N_MixOZimsBAq8sdedruCYIWrUxaVh6CpZl_2GKbqYQyoyxUgLf6Qjrw8Bl-h3lOLHC64f3xXsiI6LZVE9dgiDYgTdIujMfk_jGwgiu87sWNgC-S2J8e_6bXdhbOOU2Char9M/s3228/st%20martins%20brickwork.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1240" data-original-width="3228" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mqULBDYBXtHGCHJetKdnL-6cXOxjzi6wOcVxedlmb3XN-jDyZ65N_MixOZimsBAq8sdedruCYIWrUxaVh6CpZl_2GKbqYQyoyxUgLf6Qjrw8Bl-h3lOLHC64f3xXsiI6LZVE9dgiDYgTdIujMfk_jGwgiu87sWNgC-S2J8e_6bXdhbOOU2Char9M/w640-h246/st%20martins%20brickwork.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">So now when I go there, I always look up at the bricks, and I feel good about it too.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I have lots to do inside this week, which is just as well because the weather doesn't look good for going out. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvkNNV6HQh6KGpXpUiHB1YiZd5X26vyYmzhSwLrK-_71MYGSdFU997f0WffQBMvsPcCdMzjKq18C7TFyCDg1ymD4fU3xoHrjt81oLk7YpC08vpqXO2TMDrqfaHIkeFga5qFvwbC2blq5WLZvEITGbOhEkUPbbNNgVYw2l4SRNbaR_83ZoDAWQU_8CN/s1036/weather%20forecast.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="654" data-original-width="1036" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvkNNV6HQh6KGpXpUiHB1YiZd5X26vyYmzhSwLrK-_71MYGSdFU997f0WffQBMvsPcCdMzjKq18C7TFyCDg1ymD4fU3xoHrjt81oLk7YpC08vpqXO2TMDrqfaHIkeFga5qFvwbC2blq5WLZvEITGbOhEkUPbbNNgVYw2l4SRNbaR_83ZoDAWQU_8CN/w640-h404/weather%20forecast.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Looks like sleet on Tuesday and Thursday, in fact. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> I hope the weather's looking better where you are!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-38042191700342194582023-02-12T23:19:00.006+00:002023-02-13T08:44:44.870+00:00Birthday Central & Jewellery<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These few weeks are Birthday Central! Happy 9th birthday to the twins, who both decorated their own cakes and thoroughly enjoyed their party. It was a lovely party. Boy Twin had been making long lists and planning it in various different ways for weeks, Girl Twin was happy to just enjoy it whatever happened. They both completely entered into making and icing their own cakes (with a bit of parental help.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkpO_m22Yk8d4Gvq2G8ZB2UoSLWCSwhnmuo53oYNhIB8Kt-WuTccyFUyrBtG5tETpqX_3JG31OSWj5VvqaW64xz2Y4jdoUUzRbRWcGd1hPEwc3dg5NkaXGG7l-VJ7HnXQ9vRA5dxCil97FsjcGdOKCHiFwUY-uYNqx-ybqMDEUSxpqf_fuQj5GE8u/s1614/2%20birthday%20cakes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1245" data-original-width="1614" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkpO_m22Yk8d4Gvq2G8ZB2UoSLWCSwhnmuo53oYNhIB8Kt-WuTccyFUyrBtG5tETpqX_3JG31OSWj5VvqaW64xz2Y4jdoUUzRbRWcGd1hPEwc3dg5NkaXGG7l-VJ7HnXQ9vRA5dxCil97FsjcGdOKCHiFwUY-uYNqx-ybqMDEUSxpqf_fuQj5GE8u/w640-h494/2%20birthday%20cakes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>The next birthday coming up is next week, when K. has hers. The following week it's F's birthday. And we have just also had a great birthday meal with Young A. He's now 18 and will be leaving school next year. He usually drops by to see us every week or two and it is always good to hang out with, so it was an honour to join him and others in Winchester for a great meal in a friendly pub just opposite the medieval <a href="https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/visit/hampshire/winchester-city-mill">City Mill, a watermill which once ground most of the town's flour. </a> Here is the view through the stone balustrades of the bridge. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HmmrbAhqFzrgR8RXLdsRxW8wHAAk1_7t6nDYYN2nfuKg5YTzVE8Kgc1_dA0EvNuM50vTWiYCub6US_8fWz4PpBOtMkIkgOkR3qU8dAhJAnKRwZxIq8moh4fCCHcZ2_Ac2YAHJRZA6nx_-CrMOFpHJQTXSWZqW2yDGvubqDcdHoHXK3V95x5fOGbY/s4000/IMG_4144.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HmmrbAhqFzrgR8RXLdsRxW8wHAAk1_7t6nDYYN2nfuKg5YTzVE8Kgc1_dA0EvNuM50vTWiYCub6US_8fWz4PpBOtMkIkgOkR3qU8dAhJAnKRwZxIq8moh4fCCHcZ2_Ac2YAHJRZA6nx_-CrMOFpHJQTXSWZqW2yDGvubqDcdHoHXK3V95x5fOGbY/w640-h480/IMG_4144.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />The mill now belongs to the National Trust but it used to be a youth hostel, and a very memorable one it was too. After we left the pub, T. and I had a little walk around the city centre, watched the mill race rushing beneath the bridge, and remembered staying there long ago when we were young. There was a cavernous space used as a common room, and very few modern conveniences. We recalled being told stories by older hostellers about how in <i>their </i>past, the the living accommodation had been so primitive that the men had to <a href="https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/710442909940851041/">haul water up from the mill race if they wanted to wash. </a> I never went into the men's washroom myself, but T said that they also had to tip their basins of dirty water back into the mill race, even though by then, cold taps and basic electric light had been installed. <p></p><p>Young people can take quite a bit of discomfort in their stride, and we caught the end of the period when many YHA buildings supplied discomfort with great generosity. Despite this, many of the ancient buildings were incredibly old, beautiful and atmospheric. They had become hostels in the 1920s or 1930s, when out of date stuff like watermills or decaying mansions were considered a liability, and ideal for providing basic accommodation for hikers and cyclists. (These days, of course, they are considered priceless, and would sell for millions.) I'm so glad I had the chance to stay in so many of them. </p><p>In its hostel days, the Mill retained its old machinery (which didn't work at the time, though I believe it has now been restored) and at night it was extremely dark and full of the noise of the water, which you could also see rushing along if you peeped through the gaps in the massive oak floor boards. The last time I stayed there was at this time of year. It was truly freezing, and clouds of my own breath surrounded my bed all night. In fact I was mildly surprised my breath hadn't spread frost across my pillow by the morning! </p><p>Winchester Mill was, however, much more comfortable Willy Lott's Cottage in Suffolk, where I had to sleep for a whole week. You may recognise this beautiful old cottage on the left of <a href="https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/john-constable-the-hay-wain">"The Hay Wain" by Constable. </a> </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZZ9SF9A_803FOQkAWbcZr0cj--AxAkhdDKusleAajl8E_BFYccs4jV_NU8ATDjqXT_iN5J2tJXTnQ1rtPTUL5FmVhhORekZTInpTu5dGL4tum1zyRYljKpX-oTq8v51uoF8ZIQnYRTzhrh3FDlzguHwcW_Z0l5JSaXg-qIjlzraS72oQPq9q9Nd8l/s838/willy%20lotts%20cottage%20Hay%20Wain.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="838" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZZ9SF9A_803FOQkAWbcZr0cj--AxAkhdDKusleAajl8E_BFYccs4jV_NU8ATDjqXT_iN5J2tJXTnQ1rtPTUL5FmVhhORekZTInpTu5dGL4tum1zyRYljKpX-oTq8v51uoF8ZIQnYRTzhrh3FDlzguHwcW_Z0l5JSaXg-qIjlzraS72oQPq9q9Nd8l/w640-h448/willy%20lotts%20cottage%20Hay%20Wain.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />It is still there, and I imagine it has now been fully modernised, but words won't convey how awful it was when I stayed there. It was in fact used as accommodation for a Field Studies Council course and we students were doing a course during the day and trying to sleep at night. Not easy when the place has more or less been built in a pond. Each night I tossed and turned, figuring that my body heat was evaporating away some of the dampness, but not nearly fast enough. The sheets were far damper and colder than a mere human body could ever manage to make warm! <p></p><p>Talking of cold, I think and hope we're past the worst of the cold this year. It's been pleasant going out and cycling around and seeing things. Went to the V & A museum yesterday. T. was doing something there so I just looked around the first gallery I came to. It was full of magnificent jewellery. It's been reorganised recently to explain much more about the background of the treasure on display. An interesting section on magic and belief had this 15 carat gold bracelet from 1975, which uses gems taken from older jewellery: lapis lazuli, purple glass, jadeite, almandine garnet, black opal, diamond, green tourmaline, white opal, citrine, bloodstone, pearl and moss agate. Most of them have traditional meanings or supposed powers, and are just the thing for a rich hippie with money to spare. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFdO5lsALpTluqlSdPgtIOs4IKj6s75Nv3AeKE_dSqri1lPRlG8oxmwpkaYGU3v7fiw99pi0wHR3DPpZkvwrId30nlqavEcgR_wfaLp766t5ZeZjLAzjvs8j0YIcNeLxl0Ls1hPam0uiZiswYdSK4OLYY45LoNrHZTkvSUcAFVXq9y8a2LhzHoRrn/s2703/charm%20bracelet.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1461" data-original-width="2703" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFdO5lsALpTluqlSdPgtIOs4IKj6s75Nv3AeKE_dSqri1lPRlG8oxmwpkaYGU3v7fiw99pi0wHR3DPpZkvwrId30nlqavEcgR_wfaLp766t5ZeZjLAzjvs8j0YIcNeLxl0Ls1hPam0uiZiswYdSK4OLYY45LoNrHZTkvSUcAFVXq9y8a2LhzHoRrn/w640-h346/charm%20bracelet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My favourite part was the display of 20th and 21st century work. This piece with its strange face also dates from the 1970s. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMtoG9HSX70nM1rGkjmnHCvsOOKYvSdQCvFiPtVwRJRxwH_GgWajjbYiUOrArWjPSr29neCL-QZwc_hxD8aq5bpp_dTSTbWS-gK6FK4d79eEsCPv8owXd_QdTLIM-2P3UIicwzAqGXIYvgKZAkFn85XufGTmIc_TSO9iTUtnf9PGxCucfJAR_GGaQ/s2775/postmodern%20head.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2450" data-original-width="2775" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMtoG9HSX70nM1rGkjmnHCvsOOKYvSdQCvFiPtVwRJRxwH_GgWajjbYiUOrArWjPSr29neCL-QZwc_hxD8aq5bpp_dTSTbWS-gK6FK4d79eEsCPv8owXd_QdTLIM-2P3UIicwzAqGXIYvgKZAkFn85XufGTmIc_TSO9iTUtnf9PGxCucfJAR_GGaQ/s320/postmodern%20head.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One of the most eye catching modern pieces was a life sized butterfly ring of diamonds and tsavorites, (which are an extremely small and expensive form of green garnet.) It belonged to the singer Beyonce, and is designed so that if the wearer flexes their fingers, the butterfly's wings flutter. How great is that for a piece of jewellery? <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyFoo8hdUGuydkfmepFoHCUWTFhfZx0ERHQ7v40439DtJPv-2wtMDJ3TMi2nz6jAy5P7l0uWutmnIXcjAE0IJoW4CrctHhx7TEeGm29_pLhBVC4y0OTt1unEHmfoNjc1n8uq5rNaYPFRBTch9rsf-hYJEPJMMvQFyr2jj7JgPDaB9fN4WaFKVOM7c/s4000/IMG_4344%20Beyonces%20butterfly%20ring,%20titanium%20diamonds%20etc.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyFoo8hdUGuydkfmepFoHCUWTFhfZx0ERHQ7v40439DtJPv-2wtMDJ3TMi2nz6jAy5P7l0uWutmnIXcjAE0IJoW4CrctHhx7TEeGm29_pLhBVC4y0OTt1unEHmfoNjc1n8uq5rNaYPFRBTch9rsf-hYJEPJMMvQFyr2jj7JgPDaB9fN4WaFKVOM7c/w480-h640/IMG_4344%20Beyonces%20butterfly%20ring,%20titanium%20diamonds%20etc.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>By contrast, this ring from 2015 looks like a bit of corrugated card fastened with staples, but in fact it's made of patinated silver and white gold. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicDLBedDvgeW1PvTumEcjRMmlCxnBiYlBA86oNr5UEitIFmOH7O0Wp-0uoMxeL_rHI_7UVSMpmE2tuK9CUgoAgVcF76p2D5AR68m6K8-kdW8UVlXDSMMqfKSLuwEyyOYWByRq3s2dostAKN9az3Ql18kkZAiC10i_LHX1raXRDTnM3OZ4mZpELerJ_/s2050/corrugated%20cardboard%20bracelet,%20gold%202015.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1380" data-original-width="2050" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicDLBedDvgeW1PvTumEcjRMmlCxnBiYlBA86oNr5UEitIFmOH7O0Wp-0uoMxeL_rHI_7UVSMpmE2tuK9CUgoAgVcF76p2D5AR68m6K8-kdW8UVlXDSMMqfKSLuwEyyOYWByRq3s2dostAKN9az3Ql18kkZAiC10i_LHX1raXRDTnM3OZ4mZpELerJ_/w640-h430/corrugated%20cardboard%20bracelet,%20gold%202015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In a display of various approaches to rings I spotted one made by someone I knew when I was at college. I'd seen one of his rings years ago at the V & A and been really impressed at how well he was doing. In those days he was making portrait rings of rich people and their families. I thought it was an attractive idea - you could wear a portrait of your loved ones (or even of yourself) all the time. This ring was in a non-representational style, featuring something like a bullet held into the mount with wire. I couldn't get a good picture, unfortunately, but sadly I didn't like it as much as the portraits anyway. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div>Last weekend we paid a visit to a couple of our local attractions -<a href="https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/kenwood/"> Kenwood House, </a>where we saw the magnolias in the garden bursting to come out - Spring is on its way. Kenwood doesn't have closely planted gardens, but there are good displays of spring flowering bulbs (which will be out in March) and lots of shrubs and trees, including several gnarled and venerable magnolias. The buds were so beautiful, large, furry and full of life, and look at all the plant life these twigs support!<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCitRkYpjrRQe9b93XBVJgKR8rrSCRtl8gvn8mikP7H77MgY8vV0jeqkujWIWYUU6esNsiV3maSW5pzq_ZYiU_oRagS93O21wOAjXP0Ztp9s0Fu1FI8kZkFuc_aizV3Rhffu4DV4Z7f6xwO1WHuWnVqBJVezVexWYqcSIxtVTPo15OAKgCzQtx2mFv/s4000/magnolia%20buds%20cropped%20kenwood.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCitRkYpjrRQe9b93XBVJgKR8rrSCRtl8gvn8mikP7H77MgY8vV0jeqkujWIWYUU6esNsiV3maSW5pzq_ZYiU_oRagS93O21wOAjXP0Ztp9s0Fu1FI8kZkFuc_aizV3Rhffu4DV4Z7f6xwO1WHuWnVqBJVezVexWYqcSIxtVTPo15OAKgCzQtx2mFv/w640-h480/magnolia%20buds%20cropped%20kenwood.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then we had lunch with some people further down the hill at <a href="https://www.visitlondon.com/things-to-do/place/223791-burgh-house">Burgh House, </a>a 17th century country gentleman's house which was rescued for the community about 20 years ago. It is now well restored, and popular for various events and it also houses the local museum and art gallery. Among the items currently on display was this gorgeous life sized portrait of a fireplace. It is framed in real velvet curtains, and is much prettier than my picture can show as it is partly collaged, and using little sparkly gems. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaB6awZNUaMOkaz9WIMZropNmxVWc-H_ihJXyyWxe2gZEswaGukS2uIbTgu05Oql_5GjZnV58GC9bnKOnUybqAOYGYs1LWroHw4KnSHk4WSr5PUX9oSFmzbu8WAIg52TtnjjT9pToFF-Tl_TkXT8nFvIdNdWMEgXkWFvjLqtSUph3TaZy6K_usCnfY/s3164/fireplace.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3164" data-original-width="2864" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaB6awZNUaMOkaz9WIMZropNmxVWc-H_ihJXyyWxe2gZEswaGukS2uIbTgu05Oql_5GjZnV58GC9bnKOnUybqAOYGYs1LWroHw4KnSHk4WSr5PUX9oSFmzbu8WAIg52TtnjjT9pToFF-Tl_TkXT8nFvIdNdWMEgXkWFvjLqtSUph3TaZy6K_usCnfY/w580-h640/fireplace.JPG" width="580" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I spent time examining the selection of objects shown including paintbrushes and a little plastic "troll" figure. I also liked the cat ornaments hidden away at the bottom of the grate, which look quite modern to me despite their formal gaze. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dx57jQoNZOMvsGB5u0JqrAFWAwCOzNv2iAP73VeODl1JQkWBeqnU8wZODzu57LC4sK8Up80E2uSop33mE-p8JRV161_ys06K-9khnS1_Kg5Gf64PC50-ADTZAypNT4aE1hJZ3EV9QCsoOfFop60IBVG0iQ4e1trzU5k3VqLptVpoy_I23dZL9vx_/s1520/fireplace%20detail.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="566" data-original-width="1520" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dx57jQoNZOMvsGB5u0JqrAFWAwCOzNv2iAP73VeODl1JQkWBeqnU8wZODzu57LC4sK8Up80E2uSop33mE-p8JRV161_ys06K-9khnS1_Kg5Gf64PC50-ADTZAypNT4aE1hJZ3EV9QCsoOfFop60IBVG0iQ4e1trzU5k3VqLptVpoy_I23dZL9vx_/w640-h238/fireplace%20detail.JPG" width="640" /></a><br /><br /></div>I thought I'd like a mantelpiece picture of my own, and wondered what I'd put in it. It would need to be be something I was happy to see every day, and which seemed to be about me. Looking at my real mantelpiece (as, we do have mantelpieces in our Victorian flat) I see lots of quaint little things that belonged to now deceased relatives, and hand-made items people have created for me, so that is what I actually choose to display. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">However, the most striking thing on our main mantelpiece is a very large Victorian Indian-style looking glass that I bought in an auction when I was 20. It is not in great condition, and the silvering on the mirror has deteriorated to the extent you can't really see your reflection very well. Nobody ever comments on it being beautiful, so I guess that "eye-catching" may be more the sort of word they have in mind. I often wonder why I keep it but I would be lost without it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What do you think you would show on your painted mantelpiece ? </div></div><div><p></p></div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-46039247817244169682023-01-18T19:34:00.014+00:002023-01-19T09:09:57.100+00:00Mood Music<p>My birthday is in mid January and usually I celebrate it in the late Spring. January is a month when some sad things have happened for me in years gone by, but this year I decided to take a different attitude to this miserable month and celebrate in January after all. My family have asked not to be shown in my blog, or I'd post some pictures, so you will have to take my word for it that it was really fun! K. made me <a href="https://www.waitrose.com/ecom/recipe/seville-orange-polenta-cake">this orange and polenta cake,</a> as the recipe had caught her eye, and I can tell you it was DELICIOUS! </p><p>In fact, January has delivered some good days this month. On Sunday we went to help with one of V's performances, involving over an hour in the car with the twins and one of their friends. London is a terrible place to drive, but this was a complicated cross-city journey after the show that involved dropping the friend home somewhere out-of-the-way. So after a very exciting show, we loaded the kids into our car. They both suffer from car sickness so had to be dosed up with anti sickness pills first. Luckily, Friend didn't get car sick. </p><p>Actually she was Girl Twin's best friend until she moved away, so the two of them were having a great time and slightly leaving Boy Twin out, which irritated him, and so he started teasing them, which irritated them too. Added to this, Google had problems with the complicated route and began issuing crazy commands along the lines of "Turn left and then turn right and then turn left and turn left and turn left...." So as the noise level rose in the back and I tried to find our way and T tried not to swear in front of the little ones. I finally grabbed a couple of old CDs which have been sitting in the car for years, and put them on. Silence fell as these elderly CDs worked their magic and we all settled down to listen to the likes of "Boom Ooo Yatatata<b>" </b>from <a href="http://www.morecambeandwise.com/">Morecambe and Wise,</a> In case you don't know them, they were a traditional variety comedy act who were exceptionally popular on TV, and their Christmas Special was a centrepiece of the UK's Christmases until 1977. As soon as the track began, the kids stopped quarrelling, started listening and eventually began to sing along. At the end, they wanted it over again to sing along to it again. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/en8siIQH2Ds" width="320" youtube-src-id="en8siIQH2Ds"></iframe></div><div><br /></div>After we'd heard that a few times we went on to Bernard Cribbins' "Right, Said Fred." This dates from 1962 and Youtube has a well choreographed film to go with the song. It's good but I like to listen to the audio on its own, to figure out exactly what the piece of furniture is that Charlie is trying to move, with its legs and handles and candles. It's different every time I hear the song. <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/UTS8MMqhMxY" width="320" youtube-src-id="UTS8MMqhMxY"></iframe></div><br />None of the kids like the modern "Alvin and the Chipmunks" movie, but our CD tracks included a much gentler, older Chipmunk "Christmas Song" with Ros Bagdasarian (stage name David Seville). He was the first one to spot the true potential of speeded up tape recordings in the mid 1950s. The kids thought this song was very cute, and so it is. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/N6zDY0DK2H8" width="320" youtube-src-id="N6zDY0DK2H8"></iframe></div><br /></div><div>About half the songs were American, and next up was the slightly more challenging "The Railroad Runs Through the Middle of the House" with Alma Cogan - challenging because it ends in mid bar as, presumably, the train roars in and obliterates Alma. (In fact, Girl Twin did just check afterwards if she had survived, although she didn't seem that worried.) </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6QAuOF5gDNA" width="320" youtube-src-id="6QAuOF5gDNA"></iframe></div><div><br /></div>And of course we had to hear "The Runaway Train" whose words mystified them, since they are American, not British words for things to do with a railway. Still they got the general idea.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TFJ3KayeUTc" width="320" youtube-src-id="TFJ3KayeUTc"></iframe></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Nonsense songs seem to have been particularly popular between the 1920s and 1950s, and "Crazy Words, Crazy Tune" is irresistible if you like to sing along with nonsense. The Johnny Marvin version on our CD was just right for this. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WzKcoVoKOB0" width="320" youtube-src-id="WzKcoVoKOB0"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div><div>And of course everyone knows "I Taut I Taw A Puddy Cat"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/38aDWDUjlOY" width="320" youtube-src-id="38aDWDUjlOY"></iframe></div></div><div><br /></div><div>I was sorry to find we were missing the CD which had Frankie Howerd's "Three Little Fishes" - which is so peculiar that it usually grabs the interest of even the most worldly wise child. If you don't know it, here it is..... </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Jsc51gl-jWc" width="320" youtube-src-id="Jsc51gl-jWc"></iframe></div><br /><div>And "The Laughing Policeman" from the 1920s always seems to go down well, but we didn't have the CD with that one either. I have known this song all my life, but have no memory of first hearing it. I like to imagine it was on some elderly relative's antique gramophone, perhaps even the version recorded in 1922, before it became so famous. No reason to suppose that idea is true, but this Youtube film shows such a lovely gramophone, that I thought I would put it on anyway. I always feel a pang when even the very best of these old gramophones starts to go flat as it reaches the end of its 78 rpm record. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QnRGatB88xY" width="320" youtube-src-id="QnRGatB88xY"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">There don't seem to be many simple humorous songs around now, (other than Yellow Submarine, which is fifty years old, so not exactly new....although this is possibly my favourite animated film of all time so please let me give you a clip... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/m2uTFF_3MaA" width="320" youtube-src-id="m2uTFF_3MaA"></iframe></div><br />But funny music hasn't disappeared - it's just different and often includes film and other visuals, which is only to be expected. Here's Big Shaq (comedian and rapper Michael Dapaah) in "Man's Not Hot" forced to help his mum w</span><span style="text-align: left;">hile he's supposed to be living a hot glamorous life. So he's not hot. Which is why he wears that huge roadman coat all the time...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3M_5oYU-IsU" width="320" youtube-src-id="3M_5oYU-IsU"></iframe></div><br /><p>And Psy's "Gangnam Style" which was a global sensation in 2012. Now that's really impossible to classify, I'd say, and he's never managed to repeat his success. But that's what makes a real classic, I suppose.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9bZkp7q19f0" width="320" youtube-src-id="9bZkp7q19f0"></iframe></div><p>Anyhow, to get back to our trip in the car, I always thought "The Teddy Bears Picnic" sounded a bit creepy in our CD's 90 year old recording by Henry Hall (below). Its extremely slow pace and low pitched accompaniment suggest to me that something awful might be about to happen, specially since it is "safer to stay at home." But the kids didn't seem to mind all that. It seemed to calm them down after their very exciting day and there was no quarrelling at all for the rest of the trip. So hurrah for vintage funny songs! </p><p> <iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dZANKFxrcKU" width="320" youtube-src-id="dZANKFxrcKU"></iframe></p><p style="text-align: left;">By the way, T, who used to work for the BBC, had a bit of broadcasting folklore about this version of "Teddy Bear's Picnic". It was the test disc for the 78 RPM players that the BBC used (and possibly still does use, since its older archive recordings have been recorded on shellac discs. ) The crucial bit is the xylophone, which apparently sounds all wrong if the machine isn't perfectly adjusted. So now you know. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Do you have any special funny songs? </p></div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-86986690611006028702023-01-09T00:05:00.009+00:002023-01-09T11:18:12.788+00:00Glimpses of 8760 Hours<p>Happy New Year! I hope you have a good one, and that your festive season was wonderful. Ours wasn't such a great success in that there was a lot of illness, with one person after another getting sick. In fact, we never managed to get everyone together to exchange presents at all! And 2022 had more than its share of political nonsenses, but apart from that it was quite a nice year for us. </p><p>So I was sitting here looking through photos and thought I'd pick out a shot from each of the twelve past months with a glimpse of a few of the 8760 hours of my 2022 life. First, a general shot of something that can be done at any time of year, which is to stroll along the canal towpath and look at all the boats, so many of them colourful and creative in different ways.. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTq9KReyoGs34eGg6UNs03Crmy_Oqx2jxwOx8kncLJ_pGLStyPfBgQANGY3XjudKPDrytOZNoewhgAL1bayHFnxKeZensw950W1gnxB3bxHOK1vXposZea0Sg_xZ6Nfn-fmZH0hSyYt1bA8sCvEM8QsgkZYEYq1sn44C-tL2TCe3SLt3LKFI95llPc/s2312/slash%20arts%20cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1368" data-original-width="2312" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTq9KReyoGs34eGg6UNs03Crmy_Oqx2jxwOx8kncLJ_pGLStyPfBgQANGY3XjudKPDrytOZNoewhgAL1bayHFnxKeZensw950W1gnxB3bxHOK1vXposZea0Sg_xZ6Nfn-fmZH0hSyYt1bA8sCvEM8QsgkZYEYq1sn44C-tL2TCe3SLt3LKFI95llPc/w640-h378/slash%20arts%20cropped.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>And my first monthly photo is from JANUARY 2022. We went to a show of 1960s fashion at the <a href="https://www.fashiontextilemuseum.org/">London Fashion and Textile Museum</a> with young S, who was home on his holidays from university in Scotland. He has adopted a style of dress from a slightly earlier era than the sixties, but we all enjoyed this brightly coloured show on a dark January afternoon. London didn't feel fully out of lockdown, and after the show we walked from the museum in Bermondsey all the way to a nearly deserted City, in an atmosphere of rather cosy wintry gloom. We were delighted to find an excellent cake shop near St. Pauls, where we had tea. A nice memory for the month. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLGxMjYHA1Ol4uBP2U3uAik8I9x5R8J_8zYZQPBHlQ2Uw17mYpsY9glX8wLdLHNFtpZPdBiMwCRJroyWQzeSZaol7vODeCpyGJrzF3cAhw77mBTfAacpcMv4aDDor7w7HJ9u5ski3uQwKLD4jyDZGI3pkE_Q7aUawSb94lpxOzxfVVnzD54so4jJK_/s2905/1.%20st%20pauls.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2125" data-original-width="2905" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLGxMjYHA1Ol4uBP2U3uAik8I9x5R8J_8zYZQPBHlQ2Uw17mYpsY9glX8wLdLHNFtpZPdBiMwCRJroyWQzeSZaol7vODeCpyGJrzF3cAhw77mBTfAacpcMv4aDDor7w7HJ9u5ski3uQwKLD4jyDZGI3pkE_Q7aUawSb94lpxOzxfVVnzD54so4jJK_/w640-h468/1.%20st%20pauls.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p>In FEBRUARY we attended one of V's storytellings in the half ruined chapel of the Asylum Chapel, off the Old Kent Road. The Asylum, built in the early 19th century, was not designed for lunatics, but as an almshouses for the Licensed Victuallers Association - that is, people who work in the pub trade. (You can read more about the Asylum <a href="https://londongardenstrust.org/conservation/inventory/site-record/?ID=SOU016">here)</a> It is still run as social housing, although the aged publicans were moved away to the countryside long ago. The handsome colonnaded chapel, the centrepiece of the almshouse, was badly bombed in the war and never fully restored. Now, fully watertight with its beautiful stained glass windows repaired, it is used as a quirky events venue, even though it has no heating and minimal electric lighting. </p><p>The event was candle lit, and we had to dress up very warmly, but it was atmospheric as the shadows drew in and the candles flickered. K was singing with the band, so it was quite a family affair. I took this picture while everyone was lining up for free hot chocolate, and I hope my photo shows a little bit of the unique atmosphere. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BkYV4ujq2cNHXXZ1U5C1RYAuxWpOx_yl2a4QzyAFhcGnzGmZ83lWJ18ejgseDqFFxT5LD5hISnw8Xj6GbKmfopHyaIWVVMtmxo1vGUIk2PqWX5UXwGLAx4BhICKXdxDsIgDQNvSyG3JuIe3rHMzJGm3-nHbylDah2x1GrqdphVV7o-N-M0kI37v1/s4104/2.%20asylum%20chapel.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2476" data-original-width="4104" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BkYV4ujq2cNHXXZ1U5C1RYAuxWpOx_yl2a4QzyAFhcGnzGmZ83lWJ18ejgseDqFFxT5LD5hISnw8Xj6GbKmfopHyaIWVVMtmxo1vGUIk2PqWX5UXwGLAx4BhICKXdxDsIgDQNvSyG3JuIe3rHMzJGm3-nHbylDah2x1GrqdphVV7o-N-M0kI37v1/w640-h386/2.%20asylum%20chapel.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> St. Patrick's Day is on the 17th of MARCH. I got Irish citizenship just before Covid, and I am very pleased to have it. I tried throughout 2022 to get to Ireland, but was foiled each time for various reasons. But at least I baked a Paddy's cake in orange, white and green! The orange parts were ginger and orange-zest, the green parts were pistachio nuts and tiny green boiled sweets, and the white is whipped cream. I took it over to share with the Irish contingent and we all liked it very much, I am glad to say. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jNU3iLPI2yi9pl0xPbpnBpxHV0m2IDhLQILfgq4mY0ZchVuaXOoyhiHd23BQD4Olo2fsuXgsKossoM5888ZZJwO56IUBMDDRuRfhhgr9ANyAAPel6YbXuOsGCn_X389rGXZthPo0rNRVIf9RU8R2kp2YIrklf6MY6qKm8UaAyN7k7meH9OJJ1VQy/s4000/3.%20Paddy's%20cake.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4jNU3iLPI2yi9pl0xPbpnBpxHV0m2IDhLQILfgq4mY0ZchVuaXOoyhiHd23BQD4Olo2fsuXgsKossoM5888ZZJwO56IUBMDDRuRfhhgr9ANyAAPel6YbXuOsGCn_X389rGXZthPo0rNRVIf9RU8R2kp2YIrklf6MY6qKm8UaAyN7k7meH9OJJ1VQy/w640-h480/3.%20Paddy's%20cake.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>I always like APRIL for its flowers, all in bright, simple colours, yellow, white and green mostly. These are photographed against a large cherry tree in full bloom, which I am proud to say I grew from a pip. The cherries are pretty good, and in July we usually have a grandstand view of the pigeons walking along the branches and hoovering the ripe cherries up in their beaks. It's a startling sight and I always wonder why the greedy things don't choke or burst. Ah well, nature knows best. The tree is also popular with kids who climb up to collect cherries, and the upshot is that you have to be quick if you want to get any cherries yourself even though the tree produces thousands. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOl4vpbb16r0vOOaK2E0qRWv_v2fzpyC2ti1F6Y3WSufok5g6JltVRh5UBAKymHvvLzLgB7K4t-LJ-d1LolKs6LF1MBT_YO_0HY-T15bSWm4I7KxANYSz07apZDKGJlEnVFM-CHkZcjjvrxymR2W_G6RYIiV0YsH3XjEQ1NEqBfCTi0UXAJGCDA8T/s2244/4.%20nice%20daffs%20and%20cherry%20blossom.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1884" data-original-width="2244" height="538" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOl4vpbb16r0vOOaK2E0qRWv_v2fzpyC2ti1F6Y3WSufok5g6JltVRh5UBAKymHvvLzLgB7K4t-LJ-d1LolKs6LF1MBT_YO_0HY-T15bSWm4I7KxANYSz07apZDKGJlEnVFM-CHkZcjjvrxymR2W_G6RYIiV0YsH3XjEQ1NEqBfCTi0UXAJGCDA8T/w640-h538/4.%20nice%20daffs%20and%20cherry%20blossom.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>MAY is my favourite month to spend in the countryside. Everything is out in full bloom. We spent a week in Herefordshire, which has a smiling, gentle landscape, fairly hilly for cycling but not impossible if you chose the route carefully. In the steeper areas, we walked along public footpaths. The grass was full of flowers, the weather was mild and soft. So peaceful. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1FXo9Am0-bv1MkxECPjJ1pOLwB7FNsp4Rey6hOOezmHVdlTTF49IGRJv5ArzlS1vVT3FyBAKKTZA5jVQlK6a7y1-5SB4mF1XyH_DZ5sTdKQMiYFEvTiQn7QUOHSpnosJ_SKUg9nCPR9wnY2stcRxjypTMQU22WTcTbveSWC1G9TM68fG6ITNl_z96/s923/5.%20May_2%20view%20of%20flowers%20and%20may%20tree%20cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="923" data-original-width="816" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1FXo9Am0-bv1MkxECPjJ1pOLwB7FNsp4Rey6hOOezmHVdlTTF49IGRJv5ArzlS1vVT3FyBAKKTZA5jVQlK6a7y1-5SB4mF1XyH_DZ5sTdKQMiYFEvTiQn7QUOHSpnosJ_SKUg9nCPR9wnY2stcRxjypTMQU22WTcTbveSWC1G9TM68fG6ITNl_z96/w566-h640/5.%20May_2%20view%20of%20flowers%20and%20may%20tree%20cropped.jpg" width="566" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>At the end of May we, our daughter K and her family all went to Spain to attend a big party, and spent about a week, returning in early JUNE. We flew via Wizz Air, a budget airline. At this time there was a great deal of disruption at airports, with lots of airlines cancelling flights.</p><p>Wizz Air wasn't named as the worst for cancellations but has apparently had far more <a href="https://www.businesstravelnewseurope.com/Air-Travel/Wizz-Air-receives-highest-number-of-complaints-from-passengers#:~:text=There%20were%20811%20complaints%20per,as%20many%20complaints%20as%20Wizz.">unresolved complaints than any other airline in Britain</a>, and our experience definitely agrees with that. 4 hours before our flight left, at 6 AM, Wizz Air sent a text saying the plane was cancelled, and that was the last we heard from them. All six of us were left to find our own way back to the UK, and there were no flights to be had. </p><p>After a great deal of hassle we found six flights back to the UK the next day, at sky high prices. Between us it cost about £2400 and an extra night in Spain, but at least we all got home. Back in England, we and K each claimed for the statutory compensation for a missed flight. To cut a long story short, Wizz Air gave K and family the statutory 1600 euros compensation (400 euros per person), but told T and me we weren't entitled to any compensation at all even though we had had exactly the same experience as them in every detail! Over six months Wizz Air evaded the question of WHY. I thought it was very dodgy, and have applied for dispute resolution. It will take months, but I suspect there is more information to come, and if there is, I will let you know. Meanwhile I can truly say that if Wizz Air was the only airline flying to a destination, I'd change the destination rather than use them again! </p><p>I have spared you the photo of us all sitting glumly at the airport for hours and hours. So, for this month's photo, what about this male flamenco dancer? We quite enjoyed our enforced extra night in Spain. Went into town and saw him performing in the town square. I wasn't bowled over by him, to be honest but you couldn't help but see he was going down a storm with the audience. And the nice thing is that in the surrounding streets, and in the streets, women with buggies and male passers by were singing and dancing along as well.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwuRfW7qdrzPDeERvntq4tRTo5ZCY72p52HSVdRlpLX601befTEYNlxCNG4672CAnrsiEHPMHCJAAv-5A5O-6zvX5JjLq6XBC3DK0YAMxuzR6HH93Pl4Uc9_h3gm9aO4cfQ6dXQtFIiMXy2duE45b0DRqpOB5P5FZn18itA2Kc4Bfpw7dKc5vdcASU/s1274/6.%20flamenco%20dancer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="830" data-original-width="1274" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwuRfW7qdrzPDeERvntq4tRTo5ZCY72p52HSVdRlpLX601befTEYNlxCNG4672CAnrsiEHPMHCJAAv-5A5O-6zvX5JjLq6XBC3DK0YAMxuzR6HH93Pl4Uc9_h3gm9aO4cfQ6dXQtFIiMXy2duE45b0DRqpOB5P5FZn18itA2Kc4Bfpw7dKc5vdcASU/w640-h416/6.%20flamenco%20dancer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>In JULY we loved going to the village fete at Rendham, Suffolk. I've missed country fetes so much during lockdown. I love everything about them, the old-fashioned games like Whack-a-Mole, the teas with fantastic home made cakes, the stalls selling all kinds of bric a brac and books, plants, home made jams, the beer tents, charity stalls, the local brass band, dog obedience contests, Punch and Judy.... if you've ever been to one, you'll know what I mean. </div><div><br /></div><div>Rendham is always a good fete and this year it had a classic car show and entertainments that included the "Red Barrows" crack local team of formation wheelbarrow pushers. You can see some of them here (in red with white caps) lined up ready to leap into action & astound everyone with their skills. In the background, a couple of the Saxmundham Bellydancers in their turquoise outfits. And can you spot the celebrity attendee? You will notice that it's not all 100 percent serious, and all of it is to raise money for Rendham parish church, Rendham Village Hall and the local charity, the Rendham Amenity Fund. <span face="arial, sans-serif" style="color: #5f6368;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;"><b> </b></span></span></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3NxMXfL6VIBwcqHcB8ErFcg8g17pNRzcNHqf22i3vUAkkOvt5S9QRO_HzxGWCEF3GYXnQ5CFivDo9cNYMfwTsMFK7CB8ks9rqfiIJPVl4ZM6-eyymaN6n3n6thsnG7RKehuNmEoDMagfk9gfZH0Eheg595R9fzcffnRnJ67GRZLvgv98-dmTHJiU/s4000/rendham%20red%20arrows%20plus%20belly%20dancer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3NxMXfL6VIBwcqHcB8ErFcg8g17pNRzcNHqf22i3vUAkkOvt5S9QRO_HzxGWCEF3GYXnQ5CFivDo9cNYMfwTsMFK7CB8ks9rqfiIJPVl4ZM6-eyymaN6n3n6thsnG7RKehuNmEoDMagfk9gfZH0Eheg595R9fzcffnRnJ67GRZLvgv98-dmTHJiU/w640-h480/rendham%20red%20arrows%20plus%20belly%20dancer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div>In AUGUST we went to Shropshire, staying near Shrewsbury. On the way we stopped at Bridgnorth, a pleasant town on a hill whose main park has marvellous views over surrounding countryside and a large ruined castle. It's very well maintained and a really delightful spot to laze around on a sunny afternoon. Even better was this lovely shiny red ice cream van where we had some top class snacks and some of the best home made icecream I have ever tasted. In fact, I'd say it was almost worth making a detour to Bridgnorth just for that. I was amused by the blackboard which points out that the cows on the wind powered farm could choose their own milking times. Is this really possible? </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-ThQfR3TXzsUPZ-Ma9iTqtH8fr_KNCcURG9x3cO1DyePF2kdRDiUn-TrO-5_O3CG7GfYt2TRFHcXitr0GMPs0ulH9rJDqHGv1DpD1YXxwRpS3tSBiIKG-6pWquf67IenBKbPkO8H9VH0vqauJUM6Cr6OtkFXGKz_KBWU5yW-6_oapwo1j8PFwz0_/s1197/8.%20cows%20choose%20their%20own%20milking%20time.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="1197" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-ThQfR3TXzsUPZ-Ma9iTqtH8fr_KNCcURG9x3cO1DyePF2kdRDiUn-TrO-5_O3CG7GfYt2TRFHcXitr0GMPs0ulH9rJDqHGv1DpD1YXxwRpS3tSBiIKG-6pWquf67IenBKbPkO8H9VH0vqauJUM6Cr6OtkFXGKz_KBWU5yW-6_oapwo1j8PFwz0_/w640-h466/8.%20cows%20choose%20their%20own%20milking%20time.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><div><br /></div> In SEPTEMBER I was horrified to find that a lime tree in the garden was covered in one huge web. If you look very closely you can see thousands, probably millions of tiny red insects. We think they're spider-mites, but haven't a clue how to treat them. I know that greenhouse plants sometimes get them but this tree is enormous and I can find no information at all. (If you have any, please let me know. We have to do something about it and I don't know where to start.) </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNGHL4thDAYNJm5HD9Sn945emAGGxQllyShsz6CVgxnia-V9UGbPKuh4j6fdKRQWsXMMEXIyzfEg8YksEUaTxOXWYGFGYHBOuF4icKATSs3ujy4R0V7yI01E3otnPPdegs7aiwFHROato3nRRzp1iDtpAfyzdyTgCobwpLCbr7iqz3lV-meLMZ79SR/s4160/1.%20limetree%20web.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="2340" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNGHL4thDAYNJm5HD9Sn945emAGGxQllyShsz6CVgxnia-V9UGbPKuh4j6fdKRQWsXMMEXIyzfEg8YksEUaTxOXWYGFGYHBOuF4icKATSs3ujy4R0V7yI01E3otnPPdegs7aiwFHROato3nRRzp1iDtpAfyzdyTgCobwpLCbr7iqz3lV-meLMZ79SR/w360-h640/1.%20limetree%20web.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><br />In OCTOBER there were huge winds, and one night they were particularly bad, quite alarming in fact as they howled round our poor rickety old house. They brought down many branches from the trees and when I opened the door the following morning, there was this beautiful spray of flowers blown neatly on the top of the front step. The flowers were totally fresh and the colours were really beautiful so I put them in a vase and we enjoyed our "present from the wind" for about a week! </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HZUfPSvvNsXwaJnhltKrh6mrfdQUF1-CQBX37lLAfd7UvXn36k6tfs0n04u8TTW4JlFrj5qS32gAgOhXXlKQ3A8lgBDtfHP4c4Jh-8g3sdJdeIJz3I7hP5PkJiwJJf6IGepPc4kd2ID4uF_N50tEyDbDRXKZ3yoL8y25ERj4bNgS4cLhBL_nOaKX/s2448/flowers%20from%20the%20wind.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="1788" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HZUfPSvvNsXwaJnhltKrh6mrfdQUF1-CQBX37lLAfd7UvXn36k6tfs0n04u8TTW4JlFrj5qS32gAgOhXXlKQ3A8lgBDtfHP4c4Jh-8g3sdJdeIJz3I7hP5PkJiwJJf6IGepPc4kd2ID4uF_N50tEyDbDRXKZ3yoL8y25ERj4bNgS4cLhBL_nOaKX/w293-h400/flowers%20from%20the%20wind.jpg" width="293" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Every NOVEMBER we try to attend the annual Koestler Arts exhibition at the South Bank Centre. This is art produced by people at secure institutions of various types ranging from juvenile offenders to secure mental hospitals and facilities for asylum seekers. Some of the rehabilitation work and support work carried out in these places unlocks a wealth of creativity, skill and ideas hiding inside some of the people are confined there. It's impossible to convey the variety of the work. Some is beautiful and nostalgic, some is incredibly skilled, some deals with stress and sadness. There is no self pity in the scene portrayed below, but it has a kind of horror for me. I wonder how it must feel to be him.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_MVis6e2osCuz7vw60Ow9rlcV6zXHkIEydhFyOuIKDQhJmEokjwoL8hFOLooI95k3sAYqv8iRJTA--SYHeDOM7f2TD2i__oFHKQWhl4hlq9YG8rmZ7ZIyNM4sDIRWGiPWIF1f5_wK8iWB7hob8X0fb7gG8tVnD7-lF0J7wXQnX8tCIPU0IJ3y5cwb/s3416/IMG_3247%20My%20future%20is%20behind%20me.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2476" data-original-width="3416" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_MVis6e2osCuz7vw60Ow9rlcV6zXHkIEydhFyOuIKDQhJmEokjwoL8hFOLooI95k3sAYqv8iRJTA--SYHeDOM7f2TD2i__oFHKQWhl4hlq9YG8rmZ7ZIyNM4sDIRWGiPWIF1f5_wK8iWB7hob8X0fb7gG8tVnD7-lF0J7wXQnX8tCIPU0IJ3y5cwb/w640-h464/IMG_3247%20My%20future%20is%20behind%20me.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">None of the prisoners are ever identified, but you can leave comments which are apparently eagerly read by the artists. Much of the work is for sale and we bought a fantastic picture from the last show. You can read more about the Koestler Foundation <a href="https://koestlerarts.org.uk/">here</a> (and check out the artworks on the site) if you wish. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Actually I have to put a second picture in, just by contrast. This is a beautiful group embroidery project showing life Under the Sea. It's a small part of a huge panel but I hope you can see that it is full of colour, well-observed detail and grace.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZ7d4fEg8dr8Vp3Pr5m-FhCIFGvh8yiNAS_CKUJHDHm1ghs0WE1YO58EOj3JO2oDY5ud0y8DlPb51DxZZhP5j83y80q2gsftYASufLPvcGIXmBbrsut8P1pVE69A3HUavQZ8E6CjNfV1V6SHu6LCxnCBdxSKgpLndG18wiSi9M-SViAPi0Mq0ccN3/s1349/1.%20fish%20detail.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="707" data-original-width="1349" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZ7d4fEg8dr8Vp3Pr5m-FhCIFGvh8yiNAS_CKUJHDHm1ghs0WE1YO58EOj3JO2oDY5ud0y8DlPb51DxZZhP5j83y80q2gsftYASufLPvcGIXmBbrsut8P1pVE69A3HUavQZ8E6CjNfV1V6SHu6LCxnCBdxSKgpLndG18wiSi9M-SViAPi0Mq0ccN3/w640-h336/1.%20fish%20detail.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In DECEMBER we had a snowfall which lasted a few days, very unusual for the time of year. More often than not, if we have snow it is in January or February. I watched, amused, as 3 young people created a huge snowball from the freshly fallen snow at about 11 PM and rolled it up the road. They ended up taking selfies of themselves and the snowman. I thought how nice to be young and carefree enough to just go out and make a huge snowball just because you can. Just down the road, an eight foot snowman appeared in a garden overnight. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRJMwh4XMuBOJvZsFlHzrrRHEEfr8p_y2s8v0xq4F02UlKrkHcL5p6TMC65Ht9UkYQfPypsMDV5MBN0Vhp2kI15XrDF62eF7xTRqIzrQXgg7HdxnGt6S4o0_NF5ToWfKHvDysPXdiEbk-u25mLmqT91_lMqzC2NTz6j86kfcZ4Rhd-0l-HTKyfa8l/s2600/selfie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2240" data-original-width="2600" height="552" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRJMwh4XMuBOJvZsFlHzrrRHEEfr8p_y2s8v0xq4F02UlKrkHcL5p6TMC65Ht9UkYQfPypsMDV5MBN0Vhp2kI15XrDF62eF7xTRqIzrQXgg7HdxnGt6S4o0_NF5ToWfKHvDysPXdiEbk-u25mLmqT91_lMqzC2NTz6j86kfcZ4Rhd-0l-HTKyfa8l/w640-h552/selfie.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And so, that's it. I could have posted a completely different selection and indeed my rather infrequent posts during the year tell the stories of other things I've done. But I hope you've enjoyed this high speed trip through flashes of my 2022, and I hope that there will be many happy moments in your life too in 2023! </div><p></p>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-49892293953641410212022-12-09T10:04:00.008+00:002022-12-13T22:33:25.538+00:00Getting back to Things I used to Do<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I don't know if you have found this, but life still feels a bit different from what it did before the pandemic. Not just an awareness of crowded spaces, but even socialising, having friends to dinner, going out to concerts and movies ... I do it, but not as much as before. And I've only just got back into thinking about just getting on the bike or the train and exploring bits of London... just to see what is out there. I used to do it all the time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Still, it's getting better. We have had three trips into London recently just to see what is going on. The most recent was to the Museum of London, one of my favourite museums. Or at least it was, because just last weekend it closed for at least 4 years. It will reopen in around 2026 <a href="https://www.museumoflondon.org.uk/west-smithfield">in an impressive new home in the old wholesale meat market in Smithfield </a>(click the link to read more) so I was taking a farewell look.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was not a very convenient museum in some ways, but I loved it just as it was, tucked away near the Barbican, in the financial district, in a peculiar, inconvenient but pleasant little 1960s development perched on a little concrete island amidst a wilderness of large roads. Once you get there, it's spacious, calm and full of life, although you wouldn't know how lively it was if you just stood out in the morning sun admiring that interesting statue and the buildings beyond. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1UgvnI6ErEY8HoxA4NDbtwwbqilkHsyKPMW9VH6hwRjqSgsMgrH0V9II83F3W4wzVrJS0yHfmIlQeGHh2bVEpD5C6HwCF-XqFcd6f_5cVuMwSUExWMh2Izid4RbAQc5kuA05UMX53dRplth2tWIyZXxDl2p0lZKnq8hx9xYm8vqq_2X-UoKLV4u3/s3636/horse%20and%202%20discs.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2384" data-original-width="3636" height="421" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1UgvnI6ErEY8HoxA4NDbtwwbqilkHsyKPMW9VH6hwRjqSgsMgrH0V9II83F3W4wzVrJS0yHfmIlQeGHh2bVEpD5C6HwCF-XqFcd6f_5cVuMwSUExWMh2Izid4RbAQc5kuA05UMX53dRplth2tWIyZXxDl2p0lZKnq8hx9xYm8vqq_2X-UoKLV4u3/w640-h421/horse%20and%202%20discs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Inside, the spaces are all kinds of shapes and sizes, with several oddly shaped little windows which look out on its immensely historical site. Because, appropriately for a museum of London its building stands right at London Wall. Look below and you see part of a real Roman gatehouse on the wall the Romans built to enclose London two thousand years ago). I love to see that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4sQTrVPBdOUcmE4REO2ZLJahJt-OPP7QHfirkpk4WuDlUvVPAY2RpJ41IrnTyVzZyxUlb_UryeifDKAhmiXjFXL-qhAfkPftccteQ2ABCcH8eTHifyuSZsDvYrdL6WZm9pC0GuCMvdwr6qpUqeoC9__zBhtLEniWxmdr2PwOpBZAATIiCXFZaDbd/s3795/IMG_3536%20view%20from%20window%20roman%20gatehouse.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2825" data-original-width="3795" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4sQTrVPBdOUcmE4REO2ZLJahJt-OPP7QHfirkpk4WuDlUvVPAY2RpJ41IrnTyVzZyxUlb_UryeifDKAhmiXjFXL-qhAfkPftccteQ2ABCcH8eTHifyuSZsDvYrdL6WZm9pC0GuCMvdwr6qpUqeoC9__zBhtLEniWxmdr2PwOpBZAATIiCXFZaDbd/w640-h476/IMG_3536%20view%20from%20window%20roman%20gatehouse.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Most of London Wall area was bombed to bits in the Second World War, but efforts were made to keep anything that could be preserved, and the museum feels very much part of that effort. Below is another window I like. This goes from floor to ceiling and overlooks attractive leafy gardens and buildings in many different styles.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqpD6XzGeK-ySyXA2CKb3HfYlBvHxweqMfqJFloX5abPAT5LxEPh61k2SX9C9Q8-sWGY8dWGQu4WagHwsKD3YgAfko7qnE9b-KNpn95_OMF_Fc32NY2fI5fAqNM3S11h9BMIsFiegQTFm6IvQ0byP84EAuXhe2UUhRfEPPI9kQZS6nF5OCo4vMlis/s4000/IMG_3647%20view%20out%20of%20window%20at%20garden%20and%20London%20scene.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqpD6XzGeK-ySyXA2CKb3HfYlBvHxweqMfqJFloX5abPAT5LxEPh61k2SX9C9Q8-sWGY8dWGQu4WagHwsKD3YgAfko7qnE9b-KNpn95_OMF_Fc32NY2fI5fAqNM3S11h9BMIsFiegQTFm6IvQ0byP84EAuXhe2UUhRfEPPI9kQZS6nF5OCo4vMlis/w480-h640/IMG_3647%20view%20out%20of%20window%20at%20garden%20and%20London%20scene.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So it's clear that the museum itself had a very good architect, but unfortunately, London's 1950s and 1960s town planners were focused on motor traffic, with pedestrians separated off, supposedly for their own safety. In reality, pedestrians were forced under or above ground with little consideration for their needs. Since the area was built, there has been a complete reversal. Now, car traffic is heavily discouraged in London, and the museum has no car park, but the road layout remains. So most people have to approach the museum via a selection of grim concrete pedestrian walkways about 30 feet in the air, dark unpleasant outdoor lifts and staircases, tunnels and too-wide streets. <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@51.5176345,-0.0979337,3a,75y,72.25h,89.62t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sg7BI_eCvUTQ2PMvfY5ii-A!2e0!7i16384!8i8192">Let me show you Street View </a>to give you an idea....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Open the link. Can you see the museum's name on the wall ahead? It seems so near, but let me tell you that getting there isn't so simple. After leaving the polluted tunnel you're in, where traffic noise echoes off the walls, you arrive <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@51.5176906,-0.0974384,3a,75y,142.6h,77.01t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s1lOBvJ2TzL5kfp6H_B2rXw!2e0!7i16384!8i8192">here, and you'll be crossing </a>that walkway over the road. You need to find somewhere to tie your bike up, if you have cycled here, then make your way to the dark, unheated entrance <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@51.5174262,-0.0971677,3a,42.8y,193.37h,96.67t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1spPd6h04-hS5PuFV7HGFozg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192">here</a>, (or one of the adjoining entrances), and go up four flights of now crumbling concrete stairs, or an escalator which might or might not work. While traffic <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/@51.5175424,-0.0964771,3a,75y,316.33h,94.68t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1skIOnyILQHUtxYYbQhXFwiQ!2e0!5s20201201T000000!7i16384!8i8192">below pumps its fumes up at you, </a>you cross the walkway, possibly in the wind and rain and finally.... you are in the museum. And it is really nice. Phew! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I don't know what people with limited mobility or small kids do, but I'm guessing grim dark elevators somewhere in the concrete. But they come, somehow, and when they do it's lovely to enjoy the little circular garden and plaza outside, and inside a welcoming, well laid out place full of surprises, all of it telling different stories about London, both now and in the past. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here are a few of my favourite things, which I may not see again for ages. I like them all for different reasons, and I hope you will also find some of them interesting. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kATSmDT5RFBcqXsh7REAxIscskJpoPF1OdZ3wwrxCvEK9iVG_ubeCiU-L1cIfdiFPYR3NeCwTBjLrJ4xYZ3MP5KIb56eEi4poEK2CLh66A46QD_wrqPa0MMjDU8EzhPkKzrKrE8Py0n-gi8PdD6UT-00oztwI6X0oJgVUPh0PX5pJiFIa2863-Tg/s2532/Img_3527%20maceheads%202500%20BC.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2088" data-original-width="2532" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kATSmDT5RFBcqXsh7REAxIscskJpoPF1OdZ3wwrxCvEK9iVG_ubeCiU-L1cIfdiFPYR3NeCwTBjLrJ4xYZ3MP5KIb56eEi4poEK2CLh66A46QD_wrqPa0MMjDU8EzhPkKzrKrE8Py0n-gi8PdD6UT-00oztwI6X0oJgVUPh0PX5pJiFIa2863-Tg/w640-h528/Img_3527%20maceheads%202500%20BC.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">These large, elegant, beautifully polished and curiously figured stone objects would not look out of place in many a modern interior. A sculpture maybe? They're actually mace heads from 2500 BC, from a tribe living near London, and it is clear from the lovely figured stone and quality of workmanship that they were used only for ceremonial purposes. I marvel that such lovely things could survive in such good condition, and it certainly makes the stone age seem a bit less rough and ready. </div> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiczkDTyFV7G_KaC2gAiVJS561uJbeT0n8X_t8z8GMMlMPFDVptbUPlsaY1TmE8BFTt-n9NqgpxWUamoP_wGmAmSOXq4VSZMjpey9EpjtzLgNMvlru2kQfhORB6i3XUKbXFfVf0HSpH1JVWVKWWROJ0FLxeToQVcboEpGPBaL0FnpBseZsMsZy9c-z/s3544/Londinium%20overview%20of%20roman%20town.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1872" data-original-width="3544" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiczkDTyFV7G_KaC2gAiVJS561uJbeT0n8X_t8z8GMMlMPFDVptbUPlsaY1TmE8BFTt-n9NqgpxWUamoP_wGmAmSOXq4VSZMjpey9EpjtzLgNMvlru2kQfhORB6i3XUKbXFfVf0HSpH1JVWVKWWROJ0FLxeToQVcboEpGPBaL0FnpBseZsMsZy9c-z/w640-h338/Londinium%20overview%20of%20roman%20town.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm not a great fan of the Romans but the museum's big diorama of the Roman town of Londinium is worth looking at. Here's an unheeded corner. What do you think those teeny folks on the right are doing working at those rectangular pans? I think they might be making salt - do you agree? At the top left there's a glimpse of the Thames in an unlikely blue, and the original wooden bridge which crossed it. What a feat it must have been building it. It's interesting that these houses are nothing like the circular wattle-and-mud huts that the Britons lived in. They are more like the kind of places you still get in Italy and parts of France today, so it seems these were made by immigrants. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am also fond of this huge lump of carved stone, carved with stylised flowers and leaves, several feet across, and still bearing signs of having been brightly painted. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-0w3yvwG87_RBJ-aKBI5O0T8sd79Azvg0utmVXg18Q6et9OKe0wqCBVNaHt64B030nZLIYMQ16x9GMcZibbh4qmtG9nF1UWHUXw4up6HHMPcPKJwuwqPldiizp8V6PdPiKFLVcwgW1WA7knD9gCbPa0G0yzwcvVyXPu9AJJxFQfaXC_6Z4vwsRjN/s2752/Nonesuch%20rubble.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1988" data-original-width="2752" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-0w3yvwG87_RBJ-aKBI5O0T8sd79Azvg0utmVXg18Q6et9OKe0wqCBVNaHt64B030nZLIYMQ16x9GMcZibbh4qmtG9nF1UWHUXw4up6HHMPcPKJwuwqPldiizp8V6PdPiKFLVcwgW1WA7knD9gCbPa0G0yzwcvVyXPu9AJJxFQfaXC_6Z4vwsRjN/w640-h462/Nonesuch%20rubble.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It is a stone roof-boss which once decorated the enormous roof of the medieval Merton Priory, in Surrey, near where I spent some of my childhood. Merton Priory was pulled down so that King Henry VIII could create the grandest palace in the world with its materials. Since Henry's vision did not include carved ecclesiastical roof-bosses, the stone was put to use as rubble beneath Nonsuch's walls. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'd have loved to have seen Nonsuch Palace. As its name suggests, it really did not have any equal in the whole world. Its exterior featured nearly 700 white carved images of gods, goddesses, mythological stories and Roman emperors, many of them also gilded and painted. Imagine it! There were two giant fairytale towers on either side of the front door, plus courtyards, turrets and oriole windows, magnificent brickwork, panelling and carving, and everything of the very best. Here is a picture (credit: modelhouses.co.uk) which shows a historically accurate model of the palace, based on the work of Prof Martin Biddle of Hertford College, Oxford. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkbeFYgXgMsFfza_5HfyG02v6g6EkfAzUpicPxtCxQb05LoOm0o4fVGvMP3idmqFgP2gjGPLSKn_KRws60dGg9MPK5DPruuRYMQLoUYrYvoX6iH2-h2kv5hjrOFg1OoU7R28sz1YQHqqftlkr1cG-XqrO-Mu3177eY1yAPIc4oUWtgMehWHKJ-HYO/s999/nonsuch%20palace.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="672" data-original-width="999" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkbeFYgXgMsFfza_5HfyG02v6g6EkfAzUpicPxtCxQb05LoOm0o4fVGvMP3idmqFgP2gjGPLSKn_KRws60dGg9MPK5DPruuRYMQLoUYrYvoX6iH2-h2kv5hjrOFg1OoU7R28sz1YQHqqftlkr1cG-XqrO-Mu3177eY1yAPIc4oUWtgMehWHKJ-HYO/w640-h430/nonsuch%20palace.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nonsuch Palace disappeared after King Charles II gave it to his mistress, Barbara, Countess of Castlemaine, a mere hundred years after it was built. I always thought this woman sounded completely awful - (but <a href="https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofEngland/Barbara-Villiers/">make your own judgement</a> of course: here's a link). She tore the entire place down and sold the materials to pay off her gambling debts. Nothing remains above ground, but the roof boss survived. I love it I think for being such a survivor. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The peculiar layout of the museum building means that there are many interesting corners. I like this lively diorama model of the Old Turk coffee house in the 18th century. They weren't just drinking coffee, from the looks of it... and I am pretty sure the figure in the middle with the red waistcoat was Dr Johnson, the greatest literary figure of the time. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJhwlO_TKWkkSRRVvwzpIvsLEuzrKmC5grN6RA6JyE2u-wIAqIIqr7U4snaJWxht-Q_6bjP2F2pvXvtRES-xW36WooMXUVrbn3XZFH3d0T9xww2tQUKd_E-Vp2Si7iOMuyrwD7F5Njw6KZ4965_yqnZ1_Kdoql2IXtO4yOlnLtPqsCt9Ddc_9Um-kl/s4000/IMG_3668%20detail%20of%20coffee%20house%20diorama.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJhwlO_TKWkkSRRVvwzpIvsLEuzrKmC5grN6RA6JyE2u-wIAqIIqr7U4snaJWxht-Q_6bjP2F2pvXvtRES-xW36WooMXUVrbn3XZFH3d0T9xww2tQUKd_E-Vp2Si7iOMuyrwD7F5Njw6KZ4965_yqnZ1_Kdoql2IXtO4yOlnLtPqsCt9Ddc_9Um-kl/w640-h480/IMG_3668%20detail%20of%20coffee%20house%20diorama.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;">By the way, sorry that some of my photos are not up to my usual standard. In places the lighting was very low and reflections were a problem. The picture below is part of an illuminated pleasure garden at night, and the whole display, which is much larger, is accompanied by particularly nice music. Take a better look on t<a href="https://www.museumoflondon.org.uk/museum-london/Pleasure-gardens-hub" target="_blank">he museum's site </a> which gives a good idea of how charming, exciting and slightly dangerous these pleasure gardens were. They flourished well into the 19th century and had alfresco dining, bands, menageries, amusement rides and, of course, the chance to drink and meet the opposite sex. Predictably, when Britain turned ultra-moralistic in the Victorian age, they were put a stop to as being far too immoral! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiFU7569c8Rvdx-DlekguHbYD15y6L_WqPM0CbvZkR4RS6iNzltknN2pd4MlJkFbO5_q4uOC0ntL2BGb4x2cLcDuVy5x_bsz5kM34ILp2y2XBHVi7CZCYoa9cbJLraiKT6nTc-SAjbnuIQHGbKXx1e_miH50ebgQXTM9shMtnxMaGnekKRBGUYAEG/s4000/IMG_3651%20vauxhall%20costumes%20at%20night%20with%20lights.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiFU7569c8Rvdx-DlekguHbYD15y6L_WqPM0CbvZkR4RS6iNzltknN2pd4MlJkFbO5_q4uOC0ntL2BGb4x2cLcDuVy5x_bsz5kM34ILp2y2XBHVi7CZCYoa9cbJLraiKT6nTc-SAjbnuIQHGbKXx1e_miH50ebgQXTM9shMtnxMaGnekKRBGUYAEG/w640-h480/IMG_3651%20vauxhall%20costumes%20at%20night%20with%20lights.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The museum's inventive layout includes some glass covered cabinets underfoot. Here you see the teacher telling her six year olds about how people called archaeologists can find interesting stuff if they dig in the ground. The kids were open mouthed at the idea of this, and full of questions, and peered intently at all the pottery and trinkets on display. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Z90bIiU0PigGEu7nt9WA8QZ84W1ziNsqXwbdX0AWFU1u1gEM0tc1KvsXGmuqUikr-jl4-5ga2-CtYG0CCoCZzTd5OUXf4hUdaiFaC-kupOEL78VbZbnjJnYY5D1ypAGrCMgoSclazMwdA5IuItOSlo0kf2Llxr28N-C1QNG8WGta01fKd5VIpx_1/s3858/IMG_3652%20kids%20looking%20at%20floor%20exhibit%20with%20teacher.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2676" data-original-width="3858" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Z90bIiU0PigGEu7nt9WA8QZ84W1ziNsqXwbdX0AWFU1u1gEM0tc1KvsXGmuqUikr-jl4-5ga2-CtYG0CCoCZzTd5OUXf4hUdaiFaC-kupOEL78VbZbnjJnYY5D1ypAGrCMgoSclazMwdA5IuItOSlo0kf2Llxr28N-C1QNG8WGta01fKd5VIpx_1/w640-h444/IMG_3652%20kids%20looking%20at%20floor%20exhibit%20with%20teacher.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The museum's Victorian London section has a replica area of real old shop fronts and fittings fully stocked and assembled. The picture below is an area based on the showroom of the firm of James Powell, which made high quality decorative items of glass, mosaics and ceramics. I like the mosaic lady sitting there so casually with the enormous tigers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIfZdcnEhy0YfxCvmq0BEzRcSiXq1D6ukZp6Rz9fenZukwRc4h0t8uF_ROMqjfoJY5lGksp3mrDPMKX9Dx6EQXF4jO83UfAuDitJuLPQa4xuDCJDIIGXYXU-WC35VjOV6-BJN6GZBMFjlCknbgUIvelB3J4Z3ToN9xE-jaRI2nHx7lCu7h8rc3t8x/s3710/james%20Powell%20showroom.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3710" data-original-width="2989" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIfZdcnEhy0YfxCvmq0BEzRcSiXq1D6ukZp6Rz9fenZukwRc4h0t8uF_ROMqjfoJY5lGksp3mrDPMKX9Dx6EQXF4jO83UfAuDitJuLPQa4xuDCJDIIGXYXU-WC35VjOV6-BJN6GZBMFjlCknbgUIvelB3J4Z3ToN9xE-jaRI2nHx7lCu7h8rc3t8x/w516-h640/james%20Powell%20showroom.JPG" width="516" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Off the Victorian galleries is a small room entirely illuminated with sections from William Booth's Poverty Maps of London, from various dates mostly in the late 19th century.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqbPG-CnPr2lRUXLC0-lasU3fwQMgj-7n0vA9PhgNsq2_7dGRda8_4gYarx1Mrr26WPB39Byfn2LKt2h0nWPHLTIK-6jsI-QGtqrIc06R4lHPFKjz4QREYTXbEfow3bUdEYBKvySCgl7KJNBNb0FY0ytOJfqzNL8juR3gKO2F886cy2ciWqK4Zckt/s4000/IMG_3600.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqbPG-CnPr2lRUXLC0-lasU3fwQMgj-7n0vA9PhgNsq2_7dGRda8_4gYarx1Mrr26WPB39Byfn2LKt2h0nWPHLTIK-6jsI-QGtqrIc06R4lHPFKjz4QREYTXbEfow3bUdEYBKvySCgl7KJNBNb0FY0ytOJfqzNL8juR3gKO2F886cy2ciWqK4Zckt/w640-h480/IMG_3600.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKpMt3nQADjY3mEWsSHAoXRtRGtO4QMYE9V8GpPo2-PdHae0BYuWTe_NntdKDoy_gyYZSaYgZAIWYamSHKCI6GaKslKbcJr5sBSDT4WgBRhLybFxhuMdUH8gWIEUibAXFhWeAhxCZaoGva6tXDZ92NPoHwg158Pe5ucxIzInOrqFFPNuY-EmIgWMM/s4000/IMG_3602.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKpMt3nQADjY3mEWsSHAoXRtRGtO4QMYE9V8GpPo2-PdHae0BYuWTe_NntdKDoy_gyYZSaYgZAIWYamSHKCI6GaKslKbcJr5sBSDT4WgBRhLybFxhuMdUH8gWIEUibAXFhWeAhxCZaoGva6tXDZ92NPoHwg158Pe5ucxIzInOrqFFPNuY-EmIgWMM/w480-h640/IMG_3602.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Booth was the founder of the Salvation Army and a social pioneer. He talked to London's poor in language they understood, did not patronise or humiliate them, fed and sheltered them if they wanted and needed it, and tried to inspire them to turned their lives around. Salvation Army members live strict and repressive religious lives themselves, but they do not ask their clients to join them in this, and are to be found doing good work in the worst of situations, without asking any clients their orientation beliefs or identity. I spent a long time looking at these maps and seeing how they had changed over the years. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There is a good 20th century section. I actually remember the last gasps of the Lyons Corner Houses . In their heyday they were inexpensive restaurants which served decent traditional food in elegant white and gilt surroundings. You found them in towns all over England, and they were famous for their black and white clad waitresses, known as "Nippies." You can see a Nippy in the background of this display of cakes (including a sensational wedding cake which looks more like a church). She is actually on a film, and life sized, and in the darkened gallery there is something spooky and surreal about the way she flits about, smiling, in the darkness. I only remember Lyons Corner Houses when they were modernising themselves, going self service, and downmarket. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-hfjoPe53F206NUU0PKdH75rZqsiLv9SZysDhWk-toyzBseKwztdpc41PzxcnKxstvNupB2IW5Rt4UOOvzTOKf_rTlr1E2D_ygLuyYSYOdD4BHlDTbA60nzxl7ss_LO9erS0PdtOorvdS8gqtHgdwaaAQ1oV3UTegpw93TPl4yP4IRDkEFYJ9_Ub/s3120/victorian%20cake%20and%20nippy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="2418" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-hfjoPe53F206NUU0PKdH75rZqsiLv9SZysDhWk-toyzBseKwztdpc41PzxcnKxstvNupB2IW5Rt4UOOvzTOKf_rTlr1E2D_ygLuyYSYOdD4BHlDTbA60nzxl7ss_LO9erS0PdtOorvdS8gqtHgdwaaAQ1oV3UTegpw93TPl4yP4IRDkEFYJ9_Ub/w496-h640/victorian%20cake%20and%20nippy.jpg" width="496" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I also remember some of the old London department stores from when I was young. This most beautiful lacquered relief panel came from Marshall and Snelgrove, of Oxford Street. It was my great aunt's favourite shop and when I saw this large panel in the museum I got a strange sense of deja vu. I must have visited Marshall and Snelgrove with her, I suppose, because I got a flash of memory of examining the detail of these great big panels a very long time ago, and feeling them as I ran my fingers over them. They probably dated from the 1920s, and I don't know when they were removed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSC7P6JUI-3J31fmbhSdafM6F0BWyfgvvR32FdiOhoU_PT3zHYzgr7cldVaSs9GP65aGmU8rA2EHWFeFZwKRhSxuAMwtaomY0Laffdz2Xo6wYH_H0naJXpl1hiuksRZh41zXkXuUyMuy2huiJCq9gntAtiItYMYQedlBPqracEpNI9S4fJ11t9xyh/s2100/marshall%20and%20snelgrove%20chinese%20panel.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2100" data-original-width="1464" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSC7P6JUI-3J31fmbhSdafM6F0BWyfgvvR32FdiOhoU_PT3zHYzgr7cldVaSs9GP65aGmU8rA2EHWFeFZwKRhSxuAMwtaomY0Laffdz2Xo6wYH_H0naJXpl1hiuksRZh41zXkXuUyMuy2huiJCq9gntAtiItYMYQedlBPqracEpNI9S4fJ11t9xyh/w446-h640/marshall%20and%20snelgrove%20chinese%20panel.JPG" width="446" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: right;">Nobody who visited Selfridges before the late 1970s could have missed its magnificent bronze and painted-glass lifts. I remember using these - it was like walking into a movie set, although they were ever so slightly alarming too because they did seem so very... well...<i> old</i> to be creaking their way up and down. </span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div></div><div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-NiNWmHH6U355NYqGauK2wsurLuQTAzLO3i9-sUKaDW1Lw-LhgsNyIyFSlVr-gw7bZO7rKTHjgkqGv3bYa-xYouWm-uXfnhZV3GLPChr8cI-ao4Ad1kHdKluwa1GyjMX-zN__428Xp9-m0vmaknxDy4ebo_hBwqPv0ZKw9yGCJbFPmxFmNQWdtAQ/s4000/IMG_3580%20selfridges%20lift.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-NiNWmHH6U355NYqGauK2wsurLuQTAzLO3i9-sUKaDW1Lw-LhgsNyIyFSlVr-gw7bZO7rKTHjgkqGv3bYa-xYouWm-uXfnhZV3GLPChr8cI-ao4Ad1kHdKluwa1GyjMX-zN__428Xp9-m0vmaknxDy4ebo_hBwqPv0ZKw9yGCJbFPmxFmNQWdtAQ/w480-h640/IMG_3580%20selfridges%20lift.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">These are the exterior doors, with bronze silhouettes of mythical scenes, I suppose. Apparently the customers demanded escalators. </div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaaK5BM5BNc7NqhaWZgHcvChZbX4UWRNwo6DwaQmZ0Yu99ZFAkNVyfjpOMer4dmWitFs39PT_BcK1i0wzA86mPFQmJrPAddIHSuwh2aThM7LM6E-HXD7sKHbQyK1Z_MeImIw7okIuEdPH8kk-yRkWNkVYZQTTODKtPKaZXd79AAlfNnNnS6xlTl2-E/s4000/IMG_3579.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaaK5BM5BNc7NqhaWZgHcvChZbX4UWRNwo6DwaQmZ0Yu99ZFAkNVyfjpOMer4dmWitFs39PT_BcK1i0wzA86mPFQmJrPAddIHSuwh2aThM7LM6E-HXD7sKHbQyK1Z_MeImIw7okIuEdPH8kk-yRkWNkVYZQTTODKtPKaZXd79AAlfNnNnS6xlTl2-E/w640-h480/IMG_3579.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Luckily Selfridges has kept the fantastic bronze sculptural work of its front entrance, which is of equally splendid quality. You can see it at the bottom of the page via <a href="https://blogs.ucl.ac.uk/survey-of-london/2020/12/23/selfridges-398-454-oxford-street/">this link</a>, or in real life if you happen to be in Oxford Street.</div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Also from the early 20th century is this painting by CWM Nevinson, an artist who died in 1946. It is my favourite one in the whole museum. It shows seagulls over the Thames, filled as it was in those days with ships and industry, and with a fanciful depiction of the old <a href="https://alondoninheritance.com/tag/shot-tower/">Shot Tower</a> on the right. I love the feeling of life and movement, and the slightly Cubist style of the picture.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVQYC92EuwmlZfZuVOkT3m5TSFhm-qXCi3pCjGMqC04R3YuCYfuWmZnTUx65EzHKHdb8N4J3nvENrP2B9imuua0_x1js-cboiCof68ffEPNJIHr9xeLNACOW6dKdO9-xNUot2rb_UaP_oP_aYywF_Gmw6kpXq3rl4cm3eXMuICf6OLwsd-OHbhuf4V/s4000/London%20from%20Waterloo%20bridge%20CRW%20Nevinson.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVQYC92EuwmlZfZuVOkT3m5TSFhm-qXCi3pCjGMqC04R3YuCYfuWmZnTUx65EzHKHdb8N4J3nvENrP2B9imuua0_x1js-cboiCof68ffEPNJIHr9xeLNACOW6dKdO9-xNUot2rb_UaP_oP_aYywF_Gmw6kpXq3rl4cm3eXMuICf6OLwsd-OHbhuf4V/w480-h640/London%20from%20Waterloo%20bridge%20CRW%20Nevinson.jpg" width="480" /></a> </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The war years are also well represented, with a lot of recordings and films, but I prefer the 1950s and this lovely Coronation dress. Look at all the decorations around the hem. I was keen on royalty as a child and would have considered this to be the ideal dress for myself. Can you see the toy royal coach at the bottom left? </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYs-AK04p8_4pw_USG6woEnIhs1c6UjbBgW9lHdqjhlsyQ9MU6bHNC4R0o5EdHrD6i_J8sa0OO3A6wu8FyaixpeaVx7KLLZl4UVI-dLogUVwN478xpAzyG8_ESoYLAi2GFPdiZsJbrRM4x8NQig8WLLKvUcm7rqn8tE3miKvkeHssDTjVEWOPP0lR0/s4000/IMG_3578%20childs%20coronation%20frock.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYs-AK04p8_4pw_USG6woEnIhs1c6UjbBgW9lHdqjhlsyQ9MU6bHNC4R0o5EdHrD6i_J8sa0OO3A6wu8FyaixpeaVx7KLLZl4UVI-dLogUVwN478xpAzyG8_ESoYLAi2GFPdiZsJbrRM4x8NQig8WLLKvUcm7rqn8tE3miKvkeHssDTjVEWOPP0lR0/w480-h640/IMG_3578%20childs%20coronation%20frock.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And then, the 1980s. That was about the last time that young people had a hope of getting a reasonable sized home in London, and it wasn't easy. The following pictures are actually of a model of Ellingfort Road, an area of slum housing in the London Fields area of the borough of Hackney. Neglected for years, like the rest of Hackney, they were scheduled for redevelopment. They were squatted by young homeless people, who repaired them when they could and created a very active creative community. After a high profile campaign to keep them, they won the right to remain. The model, created by young artists James MacKinnon and John Hurley, was one of their projects, and I could look at it for hours. The amount of work that went into it was remarkable, showing every peeling cornice, dumped bit of furniture, dustbin and sheet of corrugated iron. </div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-_DOnDKYQNqzPVc-CgBE5Xk07BFpZmZWdS-OqwyxwJmqoaM5BtGqa5-bQzGzntVwa7fp1kczUaeiny8vfbHBqIXA8kSnl270yGVAqotGIxJmbiICwDfNqcl18jhB5Du6kmeQhg7-tvaiRu10m4BC51pKrkAomWyrHIpYotdxOC1eJPGl8Z1O2NBM/s4000/IMG_3566.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-_DOnDKYQNqzPVc-CgBE5Xk07BFpZmZWdS-OqwyxwJmqoaM5BtGqa5-bQzGzntVwa7fp1kczUaeiny8vfbHBqIXA8kSnl270yGVAqotGIxJmbiICwDfNqcl18jhB5Du6kmeQhg7-tvaiRu10m4BC51pKrkAomWyrHIpYotdxOC1eJPGl8Z1O2NBM/w640-h480/IMG_3566.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5aEP48TP-ogK8UJXzmuOuuoKy_Up9dgWobqVD6MZWZauDJCI6bMxY8CeiMjZTngqgfcGcvLh9MhWpK_jZiZaBUYA2c4tw1beBXQ1G6x7UgzYqWYJiu9miaMgfBQSwYpI_DIGgeWT3-P6OOtPDrC4SA2GmOISWmLt62bLNm1_cSbgacu2JzCXJu2KV/s4480/P2200190.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2520" data-original-width="4480" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5aEP48TP-ogK8UJXzmuOuuoKy_Up9dgWobqVD6MZWZauDJCI6bMxY8CeiMjZTngqgfcGcvLh9MhWpK_jZiZaBUYA2c4tw1beBXQ1G6x7UgzYqWYJiu9miaMgfBQSwYpI_DIGgeWT3-P6OOtPDrC4SA2GmOISWmLt62bLNm1_cSbgacu2JzCXJu2KV/w640-h360/P2200190.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Hackney has become one of the coolest areas of London now, although I wouldn't personally describe it as smart. The houses are still standing, painted, retiled, repaired and definitely in far better shape. My guess is that many are still rented and perhaps some of the original artists are still in residence. </div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MC6dAxKOCpd8m6J8X28AQngjnqjrkABTfnqWTp7txnqglMxrHjQVURPXFWGwEV3RTfjFUBK0LfLD39iiB16UTZiWXTCte-_I2ckTFXqRF1hY8mVzgE2dMr-s__CJVnRcvI2NNwgRC_kgvsL6PhA_y0UNru06kbTuunJG_lx5W55cvYcVrmIvEYy4/s4000/IMG_3560.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MC6dAxKOCpd8m6J8X28AQngjnqjrkABTfnqWTp7txnqglMxrHjQVURPXFWGwEV3RTfjFUBK0LfLD39iiB16UTZiWXTCte-_I2ckTFXqRF1hY8mVzgE2dMr-s__CJVnRcvI2NNwgRC_kgvsL6PhA_y0UNru06kbTuunJG_lx5W55cvYcVrmIvEYy4/w480-h640/IMG_3560.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My final favourite item here is from 2012, the magnificent cauldron-like object at the opening of the London Olympic Games. It was built by Thomas Heatherwick, a highly original designer. He rails against "boringness" in modern architecture, and he is certainly right. I'm going to check out more of his buildings and projects - the ones I've seen are amazing. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Looking at this cauldron, I remember the feeling of pride and optimism that filled us all when it first opened. In the present <i>fin de siècle</i> atmosphere with a collapsing government and damaged economy, I remind myself that it was only ten years ago. The damage that the last few years have done to Britain is not endemic, and despite the recent damage to our institutions and values, most people here want to put things right. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawPZ13OGGBOG52ZfTB6YKTEIwUTu8SYGVsKH7tAHvL671bb6YxwKJ9P0kwE_3oL8JSNe4PH1ClEv8SxK7sgcDjnZUkiu98i-HCZJl_13D5fkuntKZXJGUstsuVJ6Jzj_ky1PpSWE2AXg-Axbk-qMW8CIacGqrs9Qn-X2MU9EUdiq33B-o_JUIZcXb/s3144/olympic%20cauldron%20overview.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3144" data-original-width="2826" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawPZ13OGGBOG52ZfTB6YKTEIwUTu8SYGVsKH7tAHvL671bb6YxwKJ9P0kwE_3oL8JSNe4PH1ClEv8SxK7sgcDjnZUkiu98i-HCZJl_13D5fkuntKZXJGUstsuVJ6Jzj_ky1PpSWE2AXg-Axbk-qMW8CIacGqrs9Qn-X2MU9EUdiq33B-o_JUIZcXb/w576-h640/olympic%20cauldron%20overview.JPG" width="576" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I will look forward to seeing the new museum building for London. It is clearly going to be fantastic, and I hope they bear in mind to give it some cosy corners too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So now, with Christmas approaching at top speed, I won't be going anywhere for a few weeks. I want to find time to go through my pictures of the past few months and pick out a few favourites to post. Here are a few to be getting on with... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Way back in July the twins had a Teddy Olympics. This is the referee of the Long Jump (teddies being hurled from one side of the room to another). Note the handy cup of coffee to keep her going.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicCqEW4bDm351Ia5oqwtzTZTp7GLMMvtxd5xiGf7Ss3hbZOjNB51kTYW0QxKw82YJ1ZmkFcEDYVrQGjH-_P_YciWYdIQ1Tt2sFFL3e4VlRGTVeuVyRa0kqiJPD-VVdbnHaWnfdh6kQ3dBUomiaLskJdR9j3N1lQFxuj25G1inOu-UMWsNpTiOk3xKb/s2012/Img_1621%20Referee%20at%20Teddy%20Olympics.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1988" data-original-width="2012" height="632" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicCqEW4bDm351Ia5oqwtzTZTp7GLMMvtxd5xiGf7Ss3hbZOjNB51kTYW0QxKw82YJ1ZmkFcEDYVrQGjH-_P_YciWYdIQ1Tt2sFFL3e4VlRGTVeuVyRa0kqiJPD-VVdbnHaWnfdh6kQ3dBUomiaLskJdR9j3N1lQFxuj25G1inOu-UMWsNpTiOk3xKb/w640-h632/Img_1621%20Referee%20at%20Teddy%20Olympics.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And we went for a little break in Kent with our oldest grandson S. during the very hot spell. Among other things, we spent a whole day on the <a href="https://www.rhdr.org.uk/history-and-heritage/">Romney Hythe and Dymchurch</a> railway. Combined with that extraordinary weather and the fact we were staying literally in the grounds of Canterbury Cathedral the trip was a magical and slightly surreal experience. The railway runs passenger services on beautifully engineered 1/3 size steam locomotives, owns several stations and has a fascinating history like something out of a novel. The line goes through some lovely countryside to <a href="https://dungeness.org.uk/history/">Dungeness,</a> a most curious place by the sea originally populated by poor folk who left London to live a peaceful life in converted shacks and railway carriages. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHtXs3tDuVnG2SkVCMlPUClsaTH_WnnnsOUf3FnLQt2D8QC_N7hnaaHsj6vfNlHoKOrH6FL-Iwil2D8yxt9_z7s2Xm1UidZ8eV4jbu7f2Mc69YO7g-3kMxiJ2qsTu9C4ZmFZBvZjwWlIAlyPBw_H_Ej4tYci1XDdNM4btiWfjGoYuoNDe4iWEMKCS9/s1086/shooting%20off%20steam.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="664" data-original-width="1086" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHtXs3tDuVnG2SkVCMlPUClsaTH_WnnnsOUf3FnLQt2D8QC_N7hnaaHsj6vfNlHoKOrH6FL-Iwil2D8yxt9_z7s2Xm1UidZ8eV4jbu7f2Mc69YO7g-3kMxiJ2qsTu9C4ZmFZBvZjwWlIAlyPBw_H_Ej4tYci1XDdNM4btiWfjGoYuoNDe4iWEMKCS9/w640-h392/shooting%20off%20steam.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div>It is now home to a nuclear power station, and although the atmosphere is still eerie and alienated, it is these days <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2020/jul/21/derek-jarman-prospect-cottage-dungeness-kent-garden-museum-london">full of artists</a> displaying their work in wooden shacks.... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1rowjn_q0pV-gBq0DqMQfAESoPY3_YG3OYNdg4iXVEovE1OxAOY3g_OrLfqfslldUBbrxNObDq-xKXMgZ2-_KY81bjOD3J_o_rfyXuHHo6tZqcQwVc_-p7xbGosjub5WF4yf3SpRR4qYzICCEM2-MpqrA6XNzO2hX1yUI3wfcRRMRLhypdj4mjHLb/s838/window.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="804" data-original-width="838" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1rowjn_q0pV-gBq0DqMQfAESoPY3_YG3OYNdg4iXVEovE1OxAOY3g_OrLfqfslldUBbrxNObDq-xKXMgZ2-_KY81bjOD3J_o_rfyXuHHo6tZqcQwVc_-p7xbGosjub5WF4yf3SpRR4qYzICCEM2-MpqrA6XNzO2hX1yUI3wfcRRMRLhypdj4mjHLb/s320/window.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />...and also a Site of Special Scientific Interest, full of Napoleonic military ruins. People waved at us as we puffed and chuffed by and we thoroughly enjoyed stopping at the museum in one of the stations and discovering one of the best model railways in Britain there. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My next bike trip may well be to Hoxton. I finally bit the bullet and decided to have my great grandmother's scrapbook rebound...it is large and so full of different things that even though I photographed every page, I still haven't fully examined it all. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioVohkBPvxgoW3sAz9zqeh0vPkpk6Ir_BmYUnF5msqbw6_3mINVsoN__zFO1VgN9mEY0bPVm8sYEvRh4icljg0emz6gbYpk0fcH8WQM5T2l8KpeFpcCgorjpwSa27l2KU192h0CCSxWjjPndByzazeSVl0M2nRbClTdpAOUi348-FjAS7CM-CQEOeh/s2847/page%20with%20Muckross%20abbey.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2847" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioVohkBPvxgoW3sAz9zqeh0vPkpk6Ir_BmYUnF5msqbw6_3mINVsoN__zFO1VgN9mEY0bPVm8sYEvRh4icljg0emz6gbYpk0fcH8WQM5T2l8KpeFpcCgorjpwSa27l2KU192h0CCSxWjjPndByzazeSVl0M2nRbClTdpAOUi348-FjAS7CM-CQEOeh/w640-h432/page%20with%20Muckross%20abbey.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We decided to use a bookbinders in Hoxton (on the edge of Hackney, see above) partly because it is near Monster Supplies Inc. This is part of a literacy charity for young people in the area, and is most remarkable: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OsAoY1_ScB8">take a look here. </a>The twins are desperate to visit but it's quite a long and complicated trip by public transport and they're not yet up to cycling it through London traffic, so we will have to see. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The scrapbook is huge, falling apart, and full of elaborate cards, newspaper cuttings, family letter etc. stuck on heavy sheets of disintegrating paper. It's going to cost an arm and a leg but if it's not fixed soon, it will be beyond repair. It is nearly time to go and collect it, and if I am to be honest, I am full of trepidation. I can't believe anyone could fix it but I am hoping for the best. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So, that is what I have been up to and I aim to post again soon, if only to catch up. Right now, though, I'm off to have my supper and view the next episode of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0Y6NPahlDE">Howard Goodall's Story of Music. </a> It's a BBC television series from 2012 which I discovered on Youtube. I'm really ignorant about the history of music, but he explains everything so clearly and finds such amazing music that I'm loving every minute. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-10237268869619153342022-09-19T12:33:00.010+01:002022-09-19T16:31:22.050+01:00R.I.P Queen Elizabeth II<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This will be published on the day of the Queen's funeral. A queue of up to five miles long has been moving slowly, day and night, of people wanting to pay their last respects to her in London. My own experience of this special time aren't that unusual, but I thought I'd share them all the same. </div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">On September 8 we had house-guests, and K, who works in the Houses of Parliament, had taken them to breakfast on the terrace in the House of Commons. They didn't actually eat on the terrace, as it turned out, because the House was sitting - but anyway, they had a nice breakfast in the cafe and then went into the Strangers Gallery to hear the debate.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">The House was discussing energy, and our house-guests were impressed by the braininess of Keir Starmer (or so they told us later.) They were just wondering what to do next, when Parliament suddenly shut down. Just like that. They had to leave immediately. The Queen's death had been announced while they were right there. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCGeJDdIPkI2TYPYONdswNYszl_fChNNO8wqp2zSEqHz0dOV_u_qmZDrvJTutQJjww-M2t751ApD4ih-NIzgyE81RydCWdVeX3tGXB8ipJXI80mFHNCGzUCACSKdOXkaLBEQ2_QwHezarnXE-5xzs4dGKxEIvRTxnW1R8g0TS15uXOn_gC6VQ3aU1/s275/queen.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCGeJDdIPkI2TYPYONdswNYszl_fChNNO8wqp2zSEqHz0dOV_u_qmZDrvJTutQJjww-M2t751ApD4ih-NIzgyE81RydCWdVeX3tGXB8ipJXI80mFHNCGzUCACSKdOXkaLBEQ2_QwHezarnXE-5xzs4dGKxEIvRTxnW1R8g0TS15uXOn_gC6VQ3aU1/w640-h426/queen.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p>Immediately I heard the news, the image above flashed into my mind. I saw it often in my childhood, spent in British enclaves in different parts of the world. A copy hung in a light oak frame in my dad's office at work, and her image was there in her blue sash and glittery diadem in the hall of every British school I attended abroad, too. </p><p>Her death shocked me more than I'd expected. She was 96 years old and had been in poor health for a while, but the thing was, she'd always been there, and suddenly she wasn't. Her profile had been on the coins I'd used to buy my comics with, her initials on the red pillar box as I stood on tiptoe to post my granny's letters. My parents and also my grandparents had all thought about her and talked about her and she was part of our lives. And now she was gone. Not only did I miss having her there, I also felt we had lost someone who lived a life of service and always put Britain and its people first. </p><p>Some folk do ask what this "service" consisted of. It is a fair question, since in some ways it seems that all she did was live in grand palaces, drive around waving at or shaking hands with people, opening concert halls or power stations or factories or schools, attending charity events, or carrying out elaborate ceremonial duties that entailed a great deal of pomp and flummery for everyone to look at. I knew she was actively interested in Parliament's doings, and read and commented on the state papers supplied to her, although she was not allowed to interfere in Parliament's running of the country. You could certainly say that Britain could have got on perfectly well without any of this. Many countries do. </p><p>But the difference between her job and everyone else's is that she was picked out when young to represent Britain non stop throughout the world for every single moment of her life, and she did this job to the best of her ability on our behalf for seventy years. The true nature of the service she gave, and what it meant to people, only dawned on me the following Wednesday. T and I happened to be in Piccadilly and we decided to go to nearby Green Park to see the area that has been temporarily fenced off to hold tributes left by members of the public. </p><p>We went, expecting something like Diana's tributes, perhaps. But it wasn't the same. It was even more overwhelming. Long before you even reached the garden, which is the middle of the park, you could see people had piled up flowers tributes and messages for the Queen all over the place. Each little pile had plenty to look at - pictures, small toys, letters, cards, and all kinds of beautiful flowers, as you see below. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhGhrA3hfSS8KsS24K5z-uwx1xXZZ3RnYEPTP5vnI1Yaz6QmfhverEJS5yUAl2LI91CsMlULcqtOWwkAZqZcCloF3B2gtFxQt8S2SLaN1ekPY38Q7aBqXTkIzuKk338DTJCP5GDlg9kxASVecl-Srha_gJApHdWnQfBA23oOX2ETPBbHo7ZfHoRlK/s4000/Img_1736%20pic%20hanging%20from%20tree.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOhGhrA3hfSS8KsS24K5z-uwx1xXZZ3RnYEPTP5vnI1Yaz6QmfhverEJS5yUAl2LI91CsMlULcqtOWwkAZqZcCloF3B2gtFxQt8S2SLaN1ekPY38Q7aBqXTkIzuKk338DTJCP5GDlg9kxASVecl-Srha_gJApHdWnQfBA23oOX2ETPBbHo7ZfHoRlK/w400-h300/Img_1736%20pic%20hanging%20from%20tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />These informal tributes became larger and more widespread as you approached the fenced area. Inside that, they all seemed to merge together, and flowers and messages and gifts stretched as far as the eye could see. It was crazy.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpvUrLF1dKu8HzfTvXejvlsTz3k6waqdYNpxTwiXGfnlnObjY-XCUpw8TCsPPAosAMDWSPrChnDx7b5_KHOVsbjaMTb6Ck6K2OJIy9ujgsvKNwa3C3zRoWTo_uzEU9jYUlpadhTKctfF_C_0K3eFPOMsR6IzEkOF3Owq1EBxaT3bzY81UkmuWhpAc/s3474/Img_1871%20middlesbrough.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3474" data-original-width="2922" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpvUrLF1dKu8HzfTvXejvlsTz3k6waqdYNpxTwiXGfnlnObjY-XCUpw8TCsPPAosAMDWSPrChnDx7b5_KHOVsbjaMTb6Ck6K2OJIy9ujgsvKNwa3C3zRoWTo_uzEU9jYUlpadhTKctfF_C_0K3eFPOMsR6IzEkOF3Owq1EBxaT3bzY81UkmuWhpAc/w538-h640/Img_1871%20middlesbrough.jpg" width="538" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Everywhere. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xh_Rzi4D3fby9cr9ag3ceNsVz1pXLjXAZuxB5pwqCO0t5VLwDJ2Euw0tQObwJOj1X4ZgINHofmU4QjZ40dsiUnSXVoLq1iRng85fvcIyXyxTYLYjaPqhj43A6QqnFP2_7mPN1_WGPGi28NbPzst9JkMebVM0ehvFYR5_3pD7_R0LdW4wuv9RulAO/s1074/tributes%20tributes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="1074" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xh_Rzi4D3fby9cr9ag3ceNsVz1pXLjXAZuxB5pwqCO0t5VLwDJ2Euw0tQObwJOj1X4ZgINHofmU4QjZ40dsiUnSXVoLq1iRng85fvcIyXyxTYLYjaPqhj43A6QqnFP2_7mPN1_WGPGi28NbPzst9JkMebVM0ehvFYR5_3pD7_R0LdW4wuv9RulAO/w640-h360/tributes%20tributes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div>The staff had made real efforts to organise the flowers so it was not just a great heap of chaos, and had created an orderly display of ovals, lines, rectangles, sometimes organised by types of flower, or types of gift. Some of the flowers were even arranged by colours. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAylvDPDdSHBaWokppKSgUEtIKO2fRfo72vImrGsDQxwqNvHNL0rUAJCLbL_hLkSDI4zOaLf9IfPApamnf5Uo9QDJs2G_5L1lb0EwV0TfUJNq1Iyf8PCxMYjOXAZP897c-IDriHjWX-nerKbPtIkLC82dp-W0rx1kl6EHnyrmAnRHzsh_YGF1QDZWh/s2640/Img_1865%20rainbow%20flowers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2225" data-original-width="2640" height="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAylvDPDdSHBaWokppKSgUEtIKO2fRfo72vImrGsDQxwqNvHNL0rUAJCLbL_hLkSDI4zOaLf9IfPApamnf5Uo9QDJs2G_5L1lb0EwV0TfUJNq1Iyf8PCxMYjOXAZP897c-IDriHjWX-nerKbPtIkLC82dp-W0rx1kl6EHnyrmAnRHzsh_YGF1QDZWh/w640-h540/Img_1865%20rainbow%20flowers.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>It was impossible for anyone to look at everything - and by now, there must be twice as much as there was then. But we spent hours wandering about reading individual messages. It was wonderful how personal, sincere and direct they were, and how many different sorts of people had taken the trouble to buy or make them and then come all the way to the centre of London, and leave them. </div><div><p>It felt to me as if everyone was responding to her as if she was their parent or grandparent, in some way personal to them. You know how a good parent is supposed to act. No matter how boring, tiring and limiting it is to work for your kids, good parents do it. Even when the kids don't appreciate it or are rude or reluctant, the parents carry on. The kids can be loving, fun and adorable too, and possibly this encourages the good parent to keep on getting up each morning to take them to school,working to give them what they need, showing them how to behave. But it doesn't make any difference to the basic thing that the good parent does, which is to keep sticking up for them through thick and thin. </p><p>And certainly it was a fact that no matter how she felt or what she would rather have done you knew the Queen would get up each day and do her duty, meeting and speaking and shaking hands, treating everyone with respect and courtesy and taking a humble interest in their lives, listening for hours to them while saying almost nothing about herself. </p><p>She travelled thousands of miles, whether she wanted to or not, because it was her job to represent our country all over the world. Who knows if she wanted to act as a figurehead and half-mythical figure for people to look at, talk about and have opinions about? They were not always the opinions she would necessarily have liked, I imagine. And she worked right up to a few days before her death. </p></div><div>Anyway, rather than run on with the thoughts that went through my mind, I'll leave you with LOTS of pictures of people and their flowers and messages and little personal gifts for the Queen. The effect of all those tributes was overwhelming, but this is the letter that for some reason has stayed in my mind. A little girl of 8 created it in red white and blue, decorated it carefully and wrote it straight from the heart. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwzyGGDKM2d67rN_R2IvqgMWGRJ0_f_TqNfcvh9INbm3kWeZBEtqrZl4C440p6GXoUfjBHW5_EfU1xzYSWw6T0qPLkEZaCs2F8KedheB94kfZWvnUT2Sfw2G0v5YgiMR6ITpQsbX4HLVgBsJMnmA3UylW-LDEbmyeJu9b93PaAMYyooUQOgFLJdfP/s2890/Img_1797%20my%20favourite.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2485" data-original-width="2890" height="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwzyGGDKM2d67rN_R2IvqgMWGRJ0_f_TqNfcvh9INbm3kWeZBEtqrZl4C440p6GXoUfjBHW5_EfU1xzYSWw6T0qPLkEZaCs2F8KedheB94kfZWvnUT2Sfw2G0v5YgiMR6ITpQsbX4HLVgBsJMnmA3UylW-LDEbmyeJu9b93PaAMYyooUQOgFLJdfP/w640-h550/Img_1797%20my%20favourite.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><p>And I like this photo of some people who had come with a beautiful floral crown one of them had made, they were wondering where to put it down. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaCzD2s95EAU-S8VR6ZqME35NmGqMkYggC-KyfYWQ9-4bI-_PMzboAQcUEIPyjaMry_W4uaLuoPm_BZ1hrCltI03eHTck26ePPCx3Fft2T5zFMUqNTuNDWYpB71mWXB9qnDz88p1U3Uvco23nTIEi8FgD5MwCQa9O1_AXXl5EwNUOD3y47GmYkg-m/s2307/Img_1835%20flower%20arangement.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2307" data-original-width="2121" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDaCzD2s95EAU-S8VR6ZqME35NmGqMkYggC-KyfYWQ9-4bI-_PMzboAQcUEIPyjaMry_W4uaLuoPm_BZ1hrCltI03eHTck26ePPCx3Fft2T5zFMUqNTuNDWYpB71mWXB9qnDz88p1U3Uvco23nTIEi8FgD5MwCQa9O1_AXXl5EwNUOD3y47GmYkg-m/w588-h640/Img_1835%20flower%20arangement.jpg" width="588" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">I hope nobody in the photos minds appearing here. I am sure the Queen would have appreciated their presence there, though. I think if you click the picture they will enlarge. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JQ7vTj2kQ3SzynJHCLm1kdcwGbSgDbQ0aJHCsb-fKY6I9bO7xJZIS3YDpaqnoWtSLrRITSMQGCN-YhWAhvgaxkSLmI5eCAc9Zxtw9W4x227XyT68iGqvJfqa-93FyKj2YPYRGQFdfro_J5tFVcX5JX3uAyvuqppwM56i8T5B8I1rlW94KCwdWjeh/s1074/IMG_20220915_130156452%20with%20queen%20cutout.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="1074" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JQ7vTj2kQ3SzynJHCLm1kdcwGbSgDbQ0aJHCsb-fKY6I9bO7xJZIS3YDpaqnoWtSLrRITSMQGCN-YhWAhvgaxkSLmI5eCAc9Zxtw9W4x227XyT68iGqvJfqa-93FyKj2YPYRGQFdfro_J5tFVcX5JX3uAyvuqppwM56i8T5B8I1rlW94KCwdWjeh/w640-h360/IMG_20220915_130156452%20with%20queen%20cutout.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjur1AkFtizmJLYQyqXNMV2uOQ-0Pa1sNrMVi4E-L2k_f49v5DWowQagpTPBSaWc-WLKeyo0aqYehRgBBHSn16dOFjbXIDxb1QHGjrrwfWtlDzfA52wuPUqHJ9t_KqEVmL3EYbd9F3nBx3UYuwefUwaHOAfBb7h-k_EM9b35G9MARN8NqLZ8VW_wy5H/s1074/Img_1764%20for%20being%20our%20strength%20and%20stay.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1004" data-original-width="1074" height="598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjur1AkFtizmJLYQyqXNMV2uOQ-0Pa1sNrMVi4E-L2k_f49v5DWowQagpTPBSaWc-WLKeyo0aqYehRgBBHSn16dOFjbXIDxb1QHGjrrwfWtlDzfA52wuPUqHJ9t_KqEVmL3EYbd9F3nBx3UYuwefUwaHOAfBb7h-k_EM9b35G9MARN8NqLZ8VW_wy5H/w640-h598/Img_1764%20for%20being%20our%20strength%20and%20stay.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I add my own thanks and gratitude to our Queen. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> </div></div></div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-41829803592040967952022-08-06T16:20:00.010+01:002022-08-06T16:43:22.072+01:00And So, Here We Are....<p>Well, I'm sorry to say that for weeks and weeks, I've been suffering from a torn hamstring. It has been taking ages to get better, and, on top of that, T. has managed to put his back out. So things haven't been easy, though we've kept going, more or less. Like, we went to Spain, and it was very good. We spent several days in the lovely old city of Malaga, where we have stayed several times before, and which always has something to see....</p><p>...like this huge glass box full of potato chips, large enough to hide a man in...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqhAs8b7pBXTbqUxZ0p7HbeKdfLxUIdarfSITRme9gjC3AhVDwc3KgElnums3yz69wusga0XSqB5Gz-LI9-53p12_hNrZQtcCCiqCOvoDDAtLQ8jN0Wh0jc8G9dXPUZ3SuWq38nzrNzKs4mG6NSB1sooIfYzpirOKB8BXfaNxeWTzW7jhDDY1LSEB/s920/IMG_20220526_104531%20man%20sized%20cabinet%20of%20crisps.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="920" data-original-width="518" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqhAs8b7pBXTbqUxZ0p7HbeKdfLxUIdarfSITRme9gjC3AhVDwc3KgElnums3yz69wusga0XSqB5Gz-LI9-53p12_hNrZQtcCCiqCOvoDDAtLQ8jN0Wh0jc8G9dXPUZ3SuWq38nzrNzKs4mG6NSB1sooIfYzpirOKB8BXfaNxeWTzW7jhDDY1LSEB/s320/IMG_20220526_104531%20man%20sized%20cabinet%20of%20crisps.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br />...which seems to me like something fitting a crime novel. I could imagine a villain hiding inside it waiting for the chance to burst out in a shower of fried potatoes to commit his terrible crime. Could you hide a body amidst those thousands of cheese 'n' onion fragments? ( the idea of that didn't tempt me inside to buy a paper cone of the things... ) <div><br /></div><div>I thought of another question each time I passed the shop. How do they get the crisps out if people want to buy some? Does the assistant open the door and get buried under an avalanche of crisps? Or perhaps the crisps are not actually for sale, and are just for show, going slowly stale... Do they attract mice, or could they be made of plastic? So many questions.....and now I'm back in the UK I can't even go into the shop and check for myself. Although that would have spoiled the fun, in a way.<div><p></p><p>Malaga is apparently one of the cultural cities of Spain, and it does have some great museums. It is also happens to be where Picasso was born. But during this visit we didn't do very much. We just ambled about and went to only one museum, the Museum of Glass and Crystal. </p><p>Its doors had remained firmly shut last time we were in Malaga but this time it was open, and we found it a complete thrill. It is a fairly new museum in an old palacio, restored by its benevolent-sounding owner, Gonzalo Fernandez-Prieto<span face="Roboto, sans-serif"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17.136px;">,</span></span> who actually lives in an apartment on the top floor. He has arranged his own large, imaginative and varied private collection of glass, crystal and antiques to feel as if you're taking a tour through a private house. So, no barriers, few labels, and glimpses of a beautiful garden outside. You also get a guide who speaks your own language, and the overall cost is very reasonable. <a href=" https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Attraction_Review-g187438-d14839196-Reviews-Museum_Of_Glass_And_Crystal-Malaga_Costa_del_Sol_Province_of_Malaga_Andalucia.html.">This Tripadvisor link </a>gives a very good idea of what it is like, and if you are interested, I suggest you take a look at the pictures on the link. I liked far too much of what I saw to show it all here. But my picture of an 18th century goblet shows how the guide was free to handle it - he held it up just where I asked to photograph it. Not been made to be locked forever in a glass cabinet, but to be handled and held, I like to think Mr Fernandez-Prieto might have had his friends over sometimes to eat and drink off his glass treasures.</p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjjWeXJOY_7uLbVaW5RWsPKK5xsyM0Mx-4MV5-ZQi0TEHwHGQ3y3rBgiZSXgtuCJXDSArO7RImgTN3HXdy7jw5mMGDCqVIeIzEJBpJ9AotmrjxR_HI1_8mkSy1LhFNNMNGHbTLGuBGwOJKVnNbxVQs_xdzlzJi-o4uahR9n0VwBnro33bAa8l2pAd-/s4000/IMG_9394.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjjWeXJOY_7uLbVaW5RWsPKK5xsyM0Mx-4MV5-ZQi0TEHwHGQ3y3rBgiZSXgtuCJXDSArO7RImgTN3HXdy7jw5mMGDCqVIeIzEJBpJ9AotmrjxR_HI1_8mkSy1LhFNNMNGHbTLGuBGwOJKVnNbxVQs_xdzlzJi-o4uahR9n0VwBnro33bAa8l2pAd-/w640-h480/IMG_9394.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><br />One of the nice things about it being a personal private museum is that he was able to label the restrooms with incredibly rare Andy Warhol glass to show which door was which. (That's Andy on the right).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWyQxe5lhy2NruRhb-ceeSk4hcorC1YJGizIt4l1a-DeDlK8xr82hZQf6WuKGSPkaTRtYpiljLBQ1husv8gTxGP8mCWrw05FnPD5CDoSS11lfkeHfgt5EZ98zGRa0zqmv8XyqjRd0UtxQD7lJjatay09Cl6AQffIzE92og3RIcRlzP3CS77Ja0A_XI/s4000/warhol%20loos.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWyQxe5lhy2NruRhb-ceeSk4hcorC1YJGizIt4l1a-DeDlK8xr82hZQf6WuKGSPkaTRtYpiljLBQ1husv8gTxGP8mCWrw05FnPD5CDoSS11lfkeHfgt5EZ98zGRa0zqmv8XyqjRd0UtxQD7lJjatay09Cl6AQffIzE92og3RIcRlzP3CS77Ja0A_XI/w300-h400/warhol%20loos.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">As I said we've been to Malaga often, and on this trip we stayed in the square shown below. It's really central and as we were several floors up in an old apartment block, we could watch life happening below without having to participate in the bustle or noise unless we wanted to. We mostly did want to go out in the evening - the place was cheerful and lively and very clean - the trucks come round twice a day - and there's a lot of very good, inexpensive food to be had. </span></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhywy-MSCseMs4Yy5j92zA7G6D0jHyv1HoIqd8foiLe4-gKFcrmYJpMFApcUbP1RKPYSRiiAlViF0TzrHl-1t_czbAySgbw6NE8oMcpmtS4q-STNkKtyh856b1sy_cK_kq-n4qWLf1ejuIkoJRbfDi1MyY77pVTnZo3K_fKRtHpsT6pyGFNoMObnuk6/s1636/IMG_20220525_215451.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="920" data-original-width="1636" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhywy-MSCseMs4Yy5j92zA7G6D0jHyv1HoIqd8foiLe4-gKFcrmYJpMFApcUbP1RKPYSRiiAlViF0TzrHl-1t_czbAySgbw6NE8oMcpmtS4q-STNkKtyh856b1sy_cK_kq-n4qWLf1ejuIkoJRbfDi1MyY77pVTnZo3K_fKRtHpsT6pyGFNoMObnuk6/w640-h360/IMG_20220525_215451.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">During the day we liked to stop by the cathedral to watch pigeons skimming up and down by the fountains nearby to drink or wash. I like how this one sticks out its head and tucks its little pink claws in as it lands.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7s-nQfQEygXUAqBrQbMlv5nxDaScU12yXsslGB-oH1mYwNGKk0BgeRX7eA9x1V0Q6A-ZKYOQyhMFnN2uLNhrNXHsBAPG8wMJhRWTtwF_4NdGz7vLA0QZbB9ICk52fTMrYAcbZgevlO0d1DSs2i09y22epWEPKoR3En55yxY51UHbcUFNPf1Z15Xhe/s955/P2180640%20pigeon%20with%20landing%20gear%20down.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="835" data-original-width="955" height="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7s-nQfQEygXUAqBrQbMlv5nxDaScU12yXsslGB-oH1mYwNGKk0BgeRX7eA9x1V0Q6A-ZKYOQyhMFnN2uLNhrNXHsBAPG8wMJhRWTtwF_4NdGz7vLA0QZbB9ICk52fTMrYAcbZgevlO0d1DSs2i09y22epWEPKoR3En55yxY51UHbcUFNPf1Z15Xhe/w640-h560/P2180640%20pigeon%20with%20landing%20gear%20down.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><p style="text-align: center;">The jacaranda trees in Plaza Merced were in full glory - they only bloom a few weeks of the year but it's magic to see them against a blue sky. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdZJ_Ta2SIOEOvVgDTiYAtKpXSq7nJjrK5e2aJXUyQ3GDUG_SbQKEfNL2UTizjYm4UyDMQXKSEE5OOXF3aQHWvGntQMt-ars-rG1-FX6UygaR6UcggvZxtkzOVDglLbYJGlQ6bECRzHCMTzI3XOAvn95tDq0S3UQCKvhlGt6MA5EY-wepojB01KIu/s1636/IMG_20220526_131551%20tiled%20roofs%20and%20jacarandas.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="920" data-original-width="1636" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdZJ_Ta2SIOEOvVgDTiYAtKpXSq7nJjrK5e2aJXUyQ3GDUG_SbQKEfNL2UTizjYm4UyDMQXKSEE5OOXF3aQHWvGntQMt-ars-rG1-FX6UygaR6UcggvZxtkzOVDglLbYJGlQ6bECRzHCMTzI3XOAvn95tDq0S3UQCKvhlGt6MA5EY-wepojB01KIu/w640-h360/IMG_20220526_131551%20tiled%20roofs%20and%20jacarandas.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXp_0rYxCabJunGEcMSOOAUd58ICe76I8-n9WFL8ll21R_7vwgxWwx-zGsItl7SmL9XVKV-y5Ih5wCFPD0frLI_L6KtA2jMHgLHOPPYxGEvLhFbCf9FtY0B5mgmT4o95U2SQPs1bwuRLrPhGNSh3a2tq2SEQHv4ctU4tswIa6tZQB-1xpCqdhY0Wc8/s4272/P2180630%20jacaranda%20flowers.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXp_0rYxCabJunGEcMSOOAUd58ICe76I8-n9WFL8ll21R_7vwgxWwx-zGsItl7SmL9XVKV-y5Ih5wCFPD0frLI_L6KtA2jMHgLHOPPYxGEvLhFbCf9FtY0B5mgmT4o95U2SQPs1bwuRLrPhGNSh3a2tq2SEQHv4ctU4tswIa6tZQB-1xpCqdhY0Wc8/w640-h428/P2180630%20jacaranda%20flowers.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;">So Malaga rocks, and we had a day longer than we bargained for when our flight home with Wizz Air was cancelled a few hours before takeoff. It cost us £800 to buy tickets back to the UK next day. We're still trying to get the statutory compensation for late flight cancellation (400 euros each) out of Wizzair for a nightmare fllight experience. But being in Spain was a tonic. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Next, a return to Herefordshire, which I mentioned in my last post. Below is a photo of the excellent lady guide to the <a href="https://www.ledburytowncouncil.gov.uk/en-gb/what-we-do/16th-century-painted-room">Painted Room</a> in the charming town of Ledbury. The room shown is a local government office, rather surprisingly. Until the 1980s, everyone had forgotten it ever had been hand painted, but some sharp eyed workmen spotted the designs as they removed old wallpaper during some renovations. So the conservators were called in and the room was revealed. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUw5y9kdNvQQwgcEHoUodTAh1004Rsh2oIL6-N2s1_lhicIwJxL0eq7kjNmaaxs4CP_soIm2fESd9QryLk4VaBV4iK7trFxi6mwzp2bd0KBl8zEc8B4R-ZXfPqYWACA7tP-RkyJL1sc9pk67PH-v3zKzRKhSOL-DpWwiO9QcF7bceOlO-aVDYDfTC7/s4000/Img_9107%20Ledbury%20painted%20house%20lady.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUw5y9kdNvQQwgcEHoUodTAh1004Rsh2oIL6-N2s1_lhicIwJxL0eq7kjNmaaxs4CP_soIm2fESd9QryLk4VaBV4iK7trFxi6mwzp2bd0KBl8zEc8B4R-ZXfPqYWACA7tP-RkyJL1sc9pk67PH-v3zKzRKhSOL-DpWwiO9QcF7bceOlO-aVDYDfTC7/w640-h480/Img_9107%20Ledbury%20painted%20house%20lady.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;">The guide is showing part of a children's project about knot gardens, a type of aromatic herb garden laid out in a maze of little hedges. That is because the painted wall decoration is based on knot gardens, which were the height of fashion in Tudor times She told us that the room was apparently designed for a man with the interesting name of Mr. Skull in the 16th century. Back then it was used for public business and meetings, just like now, since Mr. Skull and his family were the building's resident caretakers.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> I felt very grateful to Ledbury's council for letting us have this little glimpse of the past, and providing such a good and enthusiastic guide. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We also hit the Hellens Music festival. "Hellens" is another very old house, even older than the Ledbury painted room. In fact, it originally belonged to King Harold II. (And if you thought at first that you'd never heard of him, think 1066. He was THE King Harold whose eye was put out by William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings.) Hellens is now privately owned by a family that loves music. Every year they run a series of masterclasses for young chamber musicians, culminating in a festival week of wonderful performances, which are held in an old barn. It's really, really informal, and the atmosphere is quite inspirational. A cat came along to attend each performance I was at. I am sure it found it inspirational too, and appreciated everything about it, just like we did. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">There was also a charming dog who liked to play ball with the guests on the lawn afterwards. Hellens really seemed to me to be the kind of house I'd rather like to live in if I was extremely rich. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEnsHLY1_Xx7is8uPM5Vz2OwxnhamkYROIJPemuqV03wK02P4OkFKOPLzkhei391AlilckAzQvJGlCxyfvGf7PUwCYtXl1JQgIQqw3c0xAK9zhFy-HbUUHSWupTMrRZQ0xm4i5MKA1rmmteadlVn-2UD8mLNe_TK9gPUnXWCuh6ucOIiTjsPnGoPN/s4000/IMG_8889.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEnsHLY1_Xx7is8uPM5Vz2OwxnhamkYROIJPemuqV03wK02P4OkFKOPLzkhei391AlilckAzQvJGlCxyfvGf7PUwCYtXl1JQgIQqw3c0xAK9zhFy-HbUUHSWupTMrRZQ0xm4i5MKA1rmmteadlVn-2UD8mLNe_TK9gPUnXWCuh6ucOIiTjsPnGoPN/w640-h480/IMG_8889.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The grounds are laid out in a mix of formal and wild, with donkeys and hens, and there are the sounds of musical happiness everywhere. <a href="https://hellensmusic.com">Click the link if you want to see more about the music festival</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxZApVvf3eKpdJ5Q17y6207C0NVNTXGOXONcjNtENwPvxTqpsLRgu7MJpAuyKPeYoxbZXIMlaI3A3w2pK8z40YCKhs4evCXq_yHwrBkgJKTiG2Ig3h07THUxrR6IYaM_g5PLvd8OBle0j507oShmDd0kIFtyB1vvsHy1qDm_UcgrVYZo3whkeeu-i/s3568/P2180529%20front%20hellens.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2640" data-original-width="3568" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxZApVvf3eKpdJ5Q17y6207C0NVNTXGOXONcjNtENwPvxTqpsLRgu7MJpAuyKPeYoxbZXIMlaI3A3w2pK8z40YCKhs4evCXq_yHwrBkgJKTiG2Ig3h07THUxrR6IYaM_g5PLvd8OBle0j507oShmDd0kIFtyB1vvsHy1qDm_UcgrVYZo3whkeeu-i/w640-h474/P2180529%20front%20hellens.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Later in June we had a few days in Norfolk. By then, m</span><span style="text-align: left;">y hamstring was making things difficult. But a trip to Wymondham (pronounced "Windham") cheered me up. It is a nice old town with some nice old pubs and shops, and a reasonably priced local teashop called </span><span style="text-align: left;">the </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Mad-Hatters-Tea-Shop-104531596262573/" style="text-align: left;">Mad Hatter</a><span style="text-align: left;">, with home made food</span><span style="text-align: left;"> (click the link to see their Jubilee afternoon tea - yum). Wymondham Abbey, the local parish church, was very unusual and well worth visiting the town to see. </span><span style="text-align: left;">At first I thought it was ruined but it turned out that the building had originally been a 12th century monastery. at some point, the nave and north aisle of the monastery were hived off to be used as as parish church by the townspeople. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">So there were now two rival groups sharing a big grand building - what could go wrong? Well, of course everything. The bitter rivalry between monastery and townspeople was finally settled by Henry VIII, who closed all the monasteries in England for his own greedy purposes. That left the townspeople triumphantly in possession. Unfortunately they didn't have the money or the population to maintain the monastery so they just let it fall down, or else they demolished bits as they needed them for the splendid stone. It was Caen stone, laboriously brought over from France. Which was no mean feat in the 12th century, specially since Wymondham is not on the sea. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1rfFZvLP-WUiUUlDIfPsMGwQ4wbav6-h4sSH6OFdx0vGj7eSmMqy0HWbnMTGrELhgWWL3EG0TIAkSQ9GU33mG9uvfUYFn_CVlXNqR7TS9XYzwgjs7Pir2OmZlWeKniQjaf2DfsTa30NQpKHp5cJD5smHy7gw6ik_PWki5oAJOg-bsSmHCGR8keanW/s4112/P2190063.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4112" data-original-width="3088" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1rfFZvLP-WUiUUlDIfPsMGwQ4wbav6-h4sSH6OFdx0vGj7eSmMqy0HWbnMTGrELhgWWL3EG0TIAkSQ9GU33mG9uvfUYFn_CVlXNqR7TS9XYzwgjs7Pir2OmZlWeKniQjaf2DfsTa30NQpKHp5cJD5smHy7gw6ik_PWki5oAJOg-bsSmHCGR8keanW/w480-h640/P2190063.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: left;">So now Wymondham parish church is a slice of monastic cathedral: immensely tall, with gigantic Norman arches, a clerestory, a dazzling altar, old stained glass, splendid roof, and so on. But there's not much of it, so it doesn't have the paid staff, the offices, the shop, the side chapels or all the other things a cathedral has. It is left to a handful of local people and their vicar to keep it open and running.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzE9d6tqAPaKD3FyGkoSXA931yssstBulgItW7oRnUJ9ZXuRw-_dBZYn_T2HGd_lHQImU0o9QtfkqafW8SFmkxFLAWqhbfIsoL5UjdpPzEfa4sXSQNDGD2varEx9JlvA-zUYScMbufwj4dIJS_-uvjitRFZotpjev8E9woqjVhVCPssniW4YZ0S9i7/s4272/P2190075.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzE9d6tqAPaKD3FyGkoSXA931yssstBulgItW7oRnUJ9ZXuRw-_dBZYn_T2HGd_lHQImU0o9QtfkqafW8SFmkxFLAWqhbfIsoL5UjdpPzEfa4sXSQNDGD2varEx9JlvA-zUYScMbufwj4dIJS_-uvjitRFZotpjev8E9woqjVhVCPssniW4YZ0S9i7/w640-h428/P2190075.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>They do a good job. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DmewKBuLUPUbtQSba7xcLRifsos_kcb1K9AVDLDC3Z7NR1j_492BdssazKD4bBv8jN6iyjFQoO6c-HRXjeh_sU1OVUw7d_mB9-xdItJ4PhAfpuANaE2x5uiqMbnuVewxmMiIrgJJPTBEI0NhKexc4NHWtrINHCDo78xotnCrm08gQrgqPrcEu_18/s4000/IMG_9978.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DmewKBuLUPUbtQSba7xcLRifsos_kcb1K9AVDLDC3Z7NR1j_492BdssazKD4bBv8jN6iyjFQoO6c-HRXjeh_sU1OVUw7d_mB9-xdItJ4PhAfpuANaE2x5uiqMbnuVewxmMiIrgJJPTBEI0NhKexc4NHWtrINHCDo78xotnCrm08gQrgqPrcEu_18/w480-h640/IMG_9978.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div> Services are centred on the magnificent nave, but the vicar had used the aisle, with its fine old triptych and ancient carved roof, as a meditation and calm space. (see below). You can see the comfortable sofas, the flowers, the lights and the beautiful stained glass windows (though unfortunately you can't see the stained glass in my photo). No effort has been spared to make the atmosphere incredibly peaceful, calm and welcoming. They wouldn't have been able to do that if it had been a cathedral. So, everything has worked out for the best. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXs6gBT-mRdkOWcarHci4e15dkVAHm8eOSkSMG-c6AGtddz4B7R5V0mxalhfeJzsSAF8m89_jPcNIpTV8E41lyHdr1jgsL63hW4ybcmQmGgjKP6Y1RVBAHqpO9_XpS8AakVTqYsqtCVhCBnMzOvojQlN5BSJegTdleGOHtiCG2TR2NYVq3y-4ch6Sn/s4000/Img_9969%20calm%20space.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXs6gBT-mRdkOWcarHci4e15dkVAHm8eOSkSMG-c6AGtddz4B7R5V0mxalhfeJzsSAF8m89_jPcNIpTV8E41lyHdr1jgsL63hW4ybcmQmGgjKP6Y1RVBAHqpO9_XpS8AakVTqYsqtCVhCBnMzOvojQlN5BSJegTdleGOHtiCG2TR2NYVq3y-4ch6Sn/w480-h640/Img_9969%20calm%20space.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After this, the various muscle issues kept us in London for a while, and we had to cancel a trip we were going to take to Sussex. But we haven't been sitting relaxing at home, oh no. Various events in our wider family have meant that we're seeing more of our grandkids than usual, not only the twins, who are their usual bouncy selves, but also S, the oldest, who has been staying for a while as he revises for an examination. It's wonderful - they're friendly, helpful, companionable and full of ideas and enthusiasm. What's more, there has always been someone around to pick things up off the floor, carry bags, move furniture, (in the case of S) and chat nineteen to the dozen. I am sure it's good for the health. T. <span style="text-align: left;">is almost better and I feel I am now on the mend at last. So I hope we can make our next trip, which is only next week. I'll keep you posted. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div></span></div></div><div><p></p></div></div></div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-44771065579323649092022-05-24T23:16:00.000+01:002022-05-24T23:16:59.591+01:00Made me Think, Caught my Eye.<p style="text-align: center;">During lockdown, I kept wishing I'd done things and gone places when I could. Now I'm doing my best to do just that. Not always successfully, I might say - but I am trying. And last week, we were in the valley of the River Wye in Herefordshire, towards the Welsh border. </p><p style="text-align: center;">We were outside as much we could, walking, cycling (on the flatter bits of this hilly countryside) and in particular, exploring old parish churches, which are far more than just places of worship. You do find good ones all over England, but Herefordshire's ones seemed particularly interesting. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Now I apologise if you are one of those people who find memorials and old churches uninteresting or creepy, because I want to write about some of them in this post. To me the things I see there hold so much of the humanity, the thoughts, beliefs, hopes and fears of people past and present. Even something very old can have glimpses of this and bring the past to life in a way that nothing else quite does. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Partly, this is because many of the things you see in churches are full of mysteries. So much in the old days was never written down or has been lost, but we do know people went to the trouble of making (and paying to have made) all kinds of things which puzzle us now and give some food for thought.. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Soooo........ here's an aimless selection of things that either made me think, or else caught my eye in various Herefordshire churches. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91GUboVyKhJNwsiZ0HEeEqmIshFEF93eI3dDdjbPVSRARQUoxS6SRJfzdCQ86hQ4VVjzMo6W4hw3KzpTvRrC_oa8_A0v7gWzJThl8vujP9fqMfeGAKlsx5uA1-mLOBV-DAzr6ieP8_9GLWCmErGlUfKPF0DDQ_kzYP1BQHCvS3mSVZHJZmuNsVZmQ/s4000/IMG_8749%20misericord%20man%20riding%20a%20horse%20backwards.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91GUboVyKhJNwsiZ0HEeEqmIshFEF93eI3dDdjbPVSRARQUoxS6SRJfzdCQ86hQ4VVjzMo6W4hw3KzpTvRrC_oa8_A0v7gWzJThl8vujP9fqMfeGAKlsx5uA1-mLOBV-DAzr6ieP8_9GLWCmErGlUfKPF0DDQ_kzYP1BQHCvS3mSVZHJZmuNsVZmQ/w640-h480/IMG_8749%20misericord%20man%20riding%20a%20horse%20backwards.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Here is a 14th century carving hidden under a tip-up choirstall seat, known as a misericord. It shows a man riding back to front on a galloping horse, its tail streaming in the wind. Until about 200 years ago, riding a donkey back to front was a sign of humiliation. But this isn't a donkey, it's clearly a horse, I think. Misericords usually show irreverent or mischievous scenes, as they are hidden and also sat upon, so rather secret. Maybe this back to front fellow was just a fool who got everything wrong, maybe he symbolised some kind of a sin, maybe he was a popular character who never came down to us in history. But whoever he was, he would have meant something to the people who made it and secretly saw it. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Pr4YQ93sAoMB40CCWelaj1lQx8P8pTcEpaWtwmPOn8iM_YalLkWW1o1KS4C3p9ygLEFA-l_8AzU9GSRk6S-h_03UcOFkCkzibkTzbOFboFNarUyD0Ei-dooCx2MqP4uYzS5xL2GjfYf7rkUC3LKVDuRj7BJwQSykeMbFmcER0sWEWgRmAX-WX2B1/s4272/P2180458%20wonderful%20head%20holme%20lacy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2856" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Pr4YQ93sAoMB40CCWelaj1lQx8P8pTcEpaWtwmPOn8iM_YalLkWW1o1KS4C3p9ygLEFA-l_8AzU9GSRk6S-h_03UcOFkCkzibkTzbOFboFNarUyD0Ei-dooCx2MqP4uYzS5xL2GjfYf7rkUC3LKVDuRj7BJwQSykeMbFmcER0sWEWgRmAX-WX2B1/w428-h640/P2180458%20wonderful%20head%20holme%20lacy.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And who is this smiling horned figure, boldly staring from an old arm rest? For centuries, people have rested their arms on his head, yet nobody now knows who he is. To me he looks a cheerful character, but the horns suggest otherwise, as they usually symbolise the Devil or one of his imps. The mouth appears to be surrounded by fur, like a animal's. His face has not been hacked or sawn roughly off the seat, as was done to most depictions of sacred figures in English churches by anti-idolatry and anti-Popish zealots in the 17th century and before. This fellow was left well alone, so I think he might be an imp, or a pagan fairy, now forced to listen to every single sermon in that church till the end of time. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Below is a picture of a most wonderful font dating from the early 12th century. In those days churches were full of wall paintings and decorations so the illiterate congregations could learn stories about good and evil. Almost every surface was covered in images, and nearly all of them were destroyed by the zealots. </div><div>. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6QJJW8Lxi_ea0Rt8Ie7jQGXcFN_MApCQusNTMVU7cDfvOknQHFh2Im6bcabYJmYSkzqEkPHgmJ0iqnw8R3oWX4_0eWJ0UrV-8Pk8gSR5RlFoMDT33hrrtzaoRXzXE9IrguEhhgNW0QAZHDp6QC4L92gYLkKb_wI08IJODTyZDLQjsGuwnte0uEJDj/s923/IMG_20220512_122131%20Eardisley%20font.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="923" data-original-width="519" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6QJJW8Lxi_ea0Rt8Ie7jQGXcFN_MApCQusNTMVU7cDfvOknQHFh2Im6bcabYJmYSkzqEkPHgmJ0iqnw8R3oWX4_0eWJ0UrV-8Pk8gSR5RlFoMDT33hrrtzaoRXzXE9IrguEhhgNW0QAZHDp6QC4L92gYLkKb_wI08IJODTyZDLQjsGuwnte0uEJDj/w360-h640/IMG_20220512_122131%20Eardisley%20font.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I wonder how this font survived. It might have been buried, as sometimes happened, when the zealots were near. A few yards away a very plain looking very old stone bowl sits under a chair. I suspect that was the font that was used during zealot alerts, nothing to see there to annoy them. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Nobody knows what this wonderful font really depicts. Some say it is the Harrowing of Hell, showing the rescue of one of the good people who existed before Jesus, who all had to go to Hell of course, since they did not know Him. And, so the guidebooks say, it shows Jesus</span><span style="text-align: left;"> (with dove on shoulder).....</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQdfmkjTu_wiGZ72gQIlAlVACcPGPNvuxjEYQt_-DZ1H8G8-s2wXpMw_rj7FvFGf25kGksYH3hPBHERzYVxlNXUk3Ns1NiUNBQuR_FE6oRIk5qFwlHhBKaYCBw2iPCVy0k9lDCKTcwejcyMadEdXyO2htBZ6r-J48urQU2K--IOC2748a9_A1kcGQ/s2172/bird%20sitting%20on%20shoulder.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1480" data-original-width="2172" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMQdfmkjTu_wiGZ72gQIlAlVACcPGPNvuxjEYQt_-DZ1H8G8-s2wXpMw_rj7FvFGf25kGksYH3hPBHERzYVxlNXUk3Ns1NiUNBQuR_FE6oRIk5qFwlHhBKaYCBw2iPCVy0k9lDCKTcwejcyMadEdXyO2htBZ6r-J48urQU2K--IOC2748a9_A1kcGQ/s320/bird%20sitting%20on%20shoulder.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">rescuing Adam with the help of God the Father.....here seen with a halo and carrying a tablet which must hold the Ten Commandments..... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1HzZ6pgB720mA07lokbBF0EfOU-zq_pgPdL5erwr_aM6hPZqSrRSAGx4SQhQYPZdRPExx2QxQI2zskENCL7rLDhnLEe6hQNFVY4rPzvwqB9GzmHew1T_TZ43W3nBfED1Qa8qFVjKUm7tJl_k62xDPmwZfgGmHoggHPvUEtiQK0bdpGZ4Cre5alcI/s4272/P2180576%20%20Moses%20Eardisley%20Font.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4272" data-original-width="2856" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1HzZ6pgB720mA07lokbBF0EfOU-zq_pgPdL5erwr_aM6hPZqSrRSAGx4SQhQYPZdRPExx2QxQI2zskENCL7rLDhnLEe6hQNFVY4rPzvwqB9GzmHew1T_TZ43W3nBfED1Qa8qFVjKUm7tJl_k62xDPmwZfgGmHoggHPvUEtiQK0bdpGZ4Cre5alcI/w428-h640/P2180576%20%20Moses%20Eardisley%20Font.JPG" width="428" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Although of course Moses, not God, is usually the one shown with the Ten Commandments, I've not seen God with them before. But Moses doesn't have a halo. Other guide books say that this isn't the Harrowing of Hell at all, it is a man being helped to escape not from Hell but from an evil lion, seen on the back of the font swishing his tail. (below)</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBoMNAEcc_nasXP69j0y47x0rsnBCGtx1BnQ8fICBkozDY-jesM_O8T4tIEUtUIbANFPVE-mhdLU6hHZsKWp80RUc2eJ2sFzQPfMFg5FVu_J0sM9khFYcVj6DQf_4zFFt-uXLXDnjXzuijWn4nCKRK3gLuUuRITvAQHxN-FCkhbMNdcjKgGlIe0o8/s1184/Lion%20on%20font,Eardisley,.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="914" data-original-width="1184" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBoMNAEcc_nasXP69j0y47x0rsnBCGtx1BnQ8fICBkozDY-jesM_O8T4tIEUtUIbANFPVE-mhdLU6hHZsKWp80RUc2eJ2sFzQPfMFg5FVu_J0sM9khFYcVj6DQf_4zFFt-uXLXDnjXzuijWn4nCKRK3gLuUuRITvAQHxN-FCkhbMNdcjKgGlIe0o8/w640-h494/Lion%20on%20font,Eardisley,.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And nobody seems awfully clear why two men are fighting each other on another bit of the font. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw7QkUSeoCl4NmZT2N-au33WcCuVe0VZ-lIjxW7NNdfHHquXyCQC0N9Ig75bH6CleqC4hmJ4OZS2sP340rTpNmseLFSDJivQg5zcQh5Z5AK1TRXMW3rfh5IhZg1PxYemx3_NcbbCQWv_1X5Qwyz7sW2Q-6y4WNzZ-3Ba4uRn1cY4PGByC-GiQ5942F/s4000/IMG_8946.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw7QkUSeoCl4NmZT2N-au33WcCuVe0VZ-lIjxW7NNdfHHquXyCQC0N9Ig75bH6CleqC4hmJ4OZS2sP340rTpNmseLFSDJivQg5zcQh5Z5AK1TRXMW3rfh5IhZg1PxYemx3_NcbbCQWv_1X5Qwyz7sW2Q-6y4WNzZ-3Ba4uRn1cY4PGByC-GiQ5942F/w640-h480/IMG_8946.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In another church, I peeped into the vestry and spotted a large piece of some obviously very old panelling, I am no expert, but I would date it from the late 16th or early 17th century. It was probably given to the church centuries ago when an old manor house was replaced with a new one, as panelling provides insulation and keeps out the damp, so it was a kindly gift and no doubt kept the vestry a bit more comfortable during the winter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">. It was tall and impressive, but oh dear, someone had screwed a modern double spotlight into it....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLq6iWug4O9ihBk75qzJrEd_v9Cb0T5C8x_pibxbFFwny-4s97RDPsX0SJPNatGq-G5c37ZYPgE5mNtSF8ws3tK5GEo3f5h_KW0G6beF65zySRqKHAf-Nxi9L_yQvq8aszhmmhLH1-sKU0adBq6jEk5a-JcZbizISPfWheXXe58XMoCkaRB0qWv0yb/s2200/vestry%20panelling%20at%20St%20Mary.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2200" data-original-width="1668" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLq6iWug4O9ihBk75qzJrEd_v9Cb0T5C8x_pibxbFFwny-4s97RDPsX0SJPNatGq-G5c37ZYPgE5mNtSF8ws3tK5GEo3f5h_KW0G6beF65zySRqKHAf-Nxi9L_yQvq8aszhmmhLH1-sKU0adBq6jEk5a-JcZbizISPfWheXXe58XMoCkaRB0qWv0yb/w486-h640/vestry%20panelling%20at%20St%20Mary.JPG" width="486" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">....after all, they had to be able to see to wash up after they'd had a cup of tea. </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-jIE_asTsWSZ8iym7ChuO0bNrxbExVKShau1lBG-uldti1yMKzP-ukbGgfamH__gzweehoCd5Xd8pRtlvZqydNyfKZrOwd8aCFU4RZMy5feCtJKkKjEkT_14nhpHVPqul9jFMdUVFnYD-1gt3hz_TuP3c0QVKUbn8KuXfVZAb3dKkWfN1OOZUWbfb/s2466/IMG_8935%20sink%20in%20vestry%20at%20St%20Mary.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2340" data-original-width="2466" height="608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-jIE_asTsWSZ8iym7ChuO0bNrxbExVKShau1lBG-uldti1yMKzP-ukbGgfamH__gzweehoCd5Xd8pRtlvZqydNyfKZrOwd8aCFU4RZMy5feCtJKkKjEkT_14nhpHVPqul9jFMdUVFnYD-1gt3hz_TuP3c0QVKUbn8KuXfVZAb3dKkWfN1OOZUWbfb/w640-h608/IMG_8935%20sink%20in%20vestry%20at%20St%20Mary.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I couldn't help being a bit exasperated to see obviously very historic panelling treated like this, but in a way that is part of why these old churches appeal to me. People have done what they think is needed over the centuries, so perhaps whoever does the washing up after the cups of tea stands and admires the quaint old carving. And at least it keeps out the cold. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Many churches have wonderful old stone monuments, but the one below is museum quality. This is absolutely not the work of some country stonemason in the village where it is to be found. Look at the carving of the clothes - and what's more you can see what these people actually looked like. He, Sir John Kyrle, is clearly a rather handsome man of middle years, but his wife is by no means a beauty, is she? I don't know what was considered beautiful in those days, but this does not flatter her. Even though this pair died centuries ago, I can imagine meeting them very easily and I feel I would recognise them at once. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YKM3KjK51A05s5Zj32GvhnYNTXNCcc0OiS61F_MY1KzVVA5ZDGUoGvcj2kcltwfOiO2HbcYaT7pMd3bbYk7U7d8Hz00yOzaKXbmZfZjINMLsYMa8Fbsg3Epf3ZXydr2qQ07YAEqKwBvjpLP9__jSM2vIJJ_8XKTt6XH3jtMGJHJTBR6uVNaAfSRM/s1640/IMG_20220511_174807.%20two%20togetherjpg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="1640" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YKM3KjK51A05s5Zj32GvhnYNTXNCcc0OiS61F_MY1KzVVA5ZDGUoGvcj2kcltwfOiO2HbcYaT7pMd3bbYk7U7d8Hz00yOzaKXbmZfZjINMLsYMa8Fbsg3Epf3ZXydr2qQ07YAEqKwBvjpLP9__jSM2vIJJ_8XKTt6XH3jtMGJHJTBR6uVNaAfSRM/w640-h360/IMG_20220511_174807.%20two%20togetherjpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Much more rustic is this wooden figure of Walter Helyon, who died about 1360 AD. He was a franklin and the steward to the local lord, so rather an unusual person to have such a big monument, even if it is only wood. He is wearing an ordinary outfit, not a suit of armour, and over the years he has been pretty mistreated, and needed some restoration and repainting in the original colours. His outfit is apparently an extremely accurate depiction of ordinary male dress at the time, a rather skimpy looking tunic buttoning down the front with lots of buttons, and not that comfortable looking, with his dagger and purse at his side. As you see he has his feet resting on the back of his dog, which customarily means he died at home and not in battle.</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD1ltbkOKColIkkvL6F7aoSeO0KRCxy6EfWhYZQIws4OOiFEHjcd_zMWMW20Ep2TSCIzIwTi6h5nDYo8ik2-aHxu22BHtXmCPp0HsNPZZZTZx8E7XHhtKpkJTA6_Ay1Aphd54hKIm0Z29HvBfyn-flHY2Q2srysvY2bbOnGcRUn9KQ6-iNxeBIDpQG/s4480/P2180552%20Walter%20de%20Helyon.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2520" data-original-width="4480" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD1ltbkOKColIkkvL6F7aoSeO0KRCxy6EfWhYZQIws4OOiFEHjcd_zMWMW20Ep2TSCIzIwTi6h5nDYo8ik2-aHxu22BHtXmCPp0HsNPZZZTZx8E7XHhtKpkJTA6_Ay1Aphd54hKIm0Z29HvBfyn-flHY2Q2srysvY2bbOnGcRUn9KQ6-iNxeBIDpQG/w640-h360/P2180552%20Walter%20de%20Helyon.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">And I was really impressed by this ancient yew tree, which is said to be fifteen hundred years old - some people reckon it is even older. Its old, heavy branches are held up by a framework of mid Victorian iron pillars of a type often used to hold gas-lights, and weighty lengths of oak. Not that elegant, but probably the best the parishioners could afford. Inside the hollow trunk, someone has made a bench which you may be able to see if you look closely. Most churchyards in England contain yew trees, which signify longevity, or, indeed immortality. Sometimes there are avenues of yews. This bench would be a good place to sit and ponder life. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL0C8kbfvObZpk6wcZ9I6Co1dcB_t0hrfGVGCRLprySiqwPi10Y50poO8j5aDn-Lrum8L_UuMyTesSr12WJx5T7tiIeWVAGQtjL1TPJOiGg8r5ymtXC1x6EfiU5_CTihKZdNF9ZjB8IryPqHPxaHnp4lqanfYr3uRCuScRYjbEJvFsC8rXDDgQNW6Y/s1640/IMG_20220511_181143%20ancient%20yew%20Much%20Marcle%20held%20up%20by%20posts.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="1640" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL0C8kbfvObZpk6wcZ9I6Co1dcB_t0hrfGVGCRLprySiqwPi10Y50poO8j5aDn-Lrum8L_UuMyTesSr12WJx5T7tiIeWVAGQtjL1TPJOiGg8r5ymtXC1x6EfiU5_CTihKZdNF9ZjB8IryPqHPxaHnp4lqanfYr3uRCuScRYjbEJvFsC8rXDDgQNW6Y/w640-h360/IMG_20220511_181143%20ancient%20yew%20Much%20Marcle%20held%20up%20by%20posts.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">|I went and sat inside it and looked up - I could see right out of the top of the tree. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_0pXFHCQmatVadoFYh648QL45BJ81mIHIj8SVQcQiaCz9Kne1NW_TDl2954pLnuI4DZr-6JvCF3atWLZfHk0lmD5XdWZc16u6jgmJ5zRTBy9vmsMSO8wVBJrEtsvpPuBfJK3zEPJam5ITTftsq74Exim2-4LVMebFfyOAfbksl-EmRa71remoBGx/s4000/IMG_8928.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_0pXFHCQmatVadoFYh648QL45BJ81mIHIj8SVQcQiaCz9Kne1NW_TDl2954pLnuI4DZr-6JvCF3atWLZfHk0lmD5XdWZc16u6jgmJ5zRTBy9vmsMSO8wVBJrEtsvpPuBfJK3zEPJam5ITTftsq74Exim2-4LVMebFfyOAfbksl-EmRa71remoBGx/w480-h640/IMG_8928.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It re-ignited my childhood dream of living inside a hollow tree, it always seemed a really nice idea, and it certainly felt quite cosy with all that wood shutting out the noise. I did not really want to leave it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finally, here is a Saxon doorway, dating from well over a thousand years ago, which we found behind an old curtain in a parish church. The wooden door itself looks as if it must be newer than the old doorway, both in terms of its condition and its style - a very unusual style which I have not seen before but I don't think is Saxon. But perhaps it is. The planks seem to have shrunk, unless they are intended to be that way, and plenty of money has been spent on the big, heavy, and very old lock. It's a real puzzle. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As you see it is full of gaps, very draughty, which explains the curtain. Whatever its shortcomings as a door, it provides a good space for the parishioners who clean the church to keep their vacuum cleaner out of everyone's way. As it is locked, nobody uses it to walk in and out of any more. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4r6vl1m0GlCuvsHruXPQJep7B-rDx6xXiSTnXse_k_FUDa7ydkZP9PgYNMxQqU5W6YiK-z7hbfCz83Takgb5DsqktXOC6Oj2FCxu9LBDJyVXM4vytzJrS5sTdmSEQSzII9gnJvN1pMC9Pas3inDyk-8PXaQz7SbNf9U2w52ETLMumW4SQQ4Bx36Pn/s4000/IMG_8978%20saxon%20door.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4r6vl1m0GlCuvsHruXPQJep7B-rDx6xXiSTnXse_k_FUDa7ydkZP9PgYNMxQqU5W6YiK-z7hbfCz83Takgb5DsqktXOC6Oj2FCxu9LBDJyVXM4vytzJrS5sTdmSEQSzII9gnJvN1pMC9Pas3inDyk-8PXaQz7SbNf9U2w52ETLMumW4SQQ4Bx36Pn/w480-h640/IMG_8978%20saxon%20door.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So there you are, some glimpses of the English parish church, always something unexpected to see. For me, getting to explore these places is one of the things I like the best about cycling, walking or driving about the countryside. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What do you always look out for, when you're touring aimlessly about in your part of the world? </div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-85363860772599566842022-04-18T11:44:00.003+01:002022-04-18T11:44:31.946+01:00Easter! And Some Mysterious Runes?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlcrqicW9BlSQ0pgeGp5jTHIhAYyfhlW3k048Fc4pPoAndZq783Cv-jIMkE8w2N90g_5g094nEGo4Fhmgf9HvnRx9HgaQ_2LC6V50CYS00lhCCKD6wJkb58R2-ZI28uHUEGJHj35p8ucq6ackWxuuXvpuseIfoY2mKAJeoCbW7fLmGJrR7J7tKnrHc/s1213/eggs%20from%20Sara.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="1213" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlcrqicW9BlSQ0pgeGp5jTHIhAYyfhlW3k048Fc4pPoAndZq783Cv-jIMkE8w2N90g_5g094nEGo4Fhmgf9HvnRx9HgaQ_2LC6V50CYS00lhCCKD6wJkb58R2-ZI28uHUEGJHj35p8ucq6ackWxuuXvpuseIfoY2mKAJeoCbW7fLmGJrR7J7tKnrHc/w640-h480/eggs%20from%20Sara.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> Happy Easter! Well, belatedly. I started this post on Good Friday, but life got in the way and now it's Easter Monday. So it's still officially Easter, I guess! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We began Easter week in Suffolk, and these beautiful eggs were a gift from Sara, owner of our Airbnb, who got them from her hens. We have been enjoying the eggs, along with the Navettes de Marseille from K (see below) all weekend. Sara keeps many kinds of different hens, but since the end of last year, they've all had to be locked inside because of an outbreak of avian flu. But they have spacious and varied sheltered living accommodation with a good view of the outside world, so they looked, and sounded, very happy.</div><p style="text-align: center;">Our own accommodation was an equally satisfactory one-storey building that had been a small dairy long ago. I suspect it had been a "granny annex" after that, and very charming it was, furnished in traditional style, with a crooked apple tree growing around the back door, with blossom just coming out and daffodils everywhere, including on the kitchen window sill. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoBqH4p-4hBFaVx0V_nucMnjWSQbvMe4LePFJkS5OkYaCBthBUCvVynkkyxT2FsSj7WwpWAH3wi_3xg0Ro0Fnhqrqzn9Ccjd4nHO2lqUK_VDZ692p1AJ5UtUY9A_Ckg-AS_MBp8ERAKWfwka-3SmeF09kx1dJlZg7IPfrOIBQ_L2_oOdNP838rQ3l/s1213/daffs%20in%20kitchen%20window.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="1213" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoBqH4p-4hBFaVx0V_nucMnjWSQbvMe4LePFJkS5OkYaCBthBUCvVynkkyxT2FsSj7WwpWAH3wi_3xg0Ro0Fnhqrqzn9Ccjd4nHO2lqUK_VDZ692p1AJ5UtUY9A_Ckg-AS_MBp8ERAKWfwka-3SmeF09kx1dJlZg7IPfrOIBQ_L2_oOdNP838rQ3l/w640-h480/daffs%20in%20kitchen%20window.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">On our first day we awoke to the sound of birdsong and roaring engines. A quick look out of the window showed this in the farmyard.... </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-fhoFI4yQge14dmicxuxRRirX_bA6Aoy0VmoV9_ZdBZc9ftwNpSCEblshyEvaLutQOVnw-jEUWORPqbEbMjKhOdfbjpiCH_skABglC5CohSwWEaGTGyhCgZhWQnu0PRsRfRqkLljWTyzq5y_3uF5BgGlJJkCnxWIrGSgahsAz6begH09oCvw8JNV/s1213/IMG_20220410_085451_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="1213" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-fhoFI4yQge14dmicxuxRRirX_bA6Aoy0VmoV9_ZdBZc9ftwNpSCEblshyEvaLutQOVnw-jEUWORPqbEbMjKhOdfbjpiCH_skABglC5CohSwWEaGTGyhCgZhWQnu0PRsRfRqkLljWTyzq5y_3uF5BgGlJJkCnxWIrGSgahsAz6begH09oCvw8JNV/w640-h480/IMG_20220410_085451_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">It's a Chevrolet wireless truck from WW2, in full working order, right down to the tin hat hanging on the table inside, and a pick and shovel on the back. </span><span style="text-align: left;">It's among a group of trucks made for Britain by Canada, after so much equipment was lost in the evacuation from France, so it has a right hand drive. </span><span style="text-align: left;"> These wireless trucks were specialist vehicles with huge copper extending aerials to give them a wide radio range. </span></div><div><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTZJnFFjONot8kNZVxu2w0Ziu8vKc8pzIPjEKYxBprwlVzAcUiGwxuGrXj0znbVfgPjQE1Z9b43S52rwzN24Cm3ltYX-n4JkeSe3vzasy6qevOUHF7LIomAgOv1kJfbk7U50ngzgODeJmRABWwJE88Dbw2sjjRJ0QVc5li1qquyMsS3msg7OLQV8M/s1213/IMG_20220410_090032_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="1213" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTZJnFFjONot8kNZVxu2w0Ziu8vKc8pzIPjEKYxBprwlVzAcUiGwxuGrXj0znbVfgPjQE1Z9b43S52rwzN24Cm3ltYX-n4JkeSe3vzasy6qevOUHF7LIomAgOv1kJfbk7U50ngzgODeJmRABWwJE88Dbw2sjjRJ0QVc5li1qquyMsS3msg7OLQV8M/w640-h480/IMG_20220410_090032_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The equipment includes a "19 set" radio transmitter and receiver, a piece of kit often found in UK WW2 tanks. This one<span style="text-align: left;"> has both Western and Cyrillic labelling so it might originally have been in one of the thousands of tanks that Britain sent to the USSR during WW2. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Right behind this arresting vehicle was a British Austin junior staff car, a far more modest little thing. Sara had already warned us that her husband was a military vehicles fan, and that he and a friend would be going out to an open day nearby. One of them would be driving the truck, the other little car, which did not have the luxury of glass windows. Luckily, the weather was pleasant, so it must have been a nice ride. </span></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jn2IYBCqt5WAVIRfPAjwVK87bIpYzJOxd8TKtfGgbL-FwufHhy9jslCMCRrJxkX2puRnamHHh9BZswh7p5wahpPsyDdtkVOD7zHFijYRrOummiuFLSm6XQleDU2JEG7RH6wpkHQyWSVbxwIvKYhJfmepJVVOAfDN0ZMjVPkY8r7LSaUMdfAg4cVZ/s1213/IMG_20220410_085532_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="1213" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jn2IYBCqt5WAVIRfPAjwVK87bIpYzJOxd8TKtfGgbL-FwufHhy9jslCMCRrJxkX2puRnamHHh9BZswh7p5wahpPsyDdtkVOD7zHFijYRrOummiuFLSm6XQleDU2JEG7RH6wpkHQyWSVbxwIvKYhJfmepJVVOAfDN0ZMjVPkY8r7LSaUMdfAg4cVZ/w640-h480/IMG_20220410_085532_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">After the two of them chugged off for their day out, we set out too. We planned a visit to the seaside. Hadn't seen the sea for ages, and also had not been to the little town of Walberswick for years, so that is where we decided to go. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Walberswick is in a corner of marshy land formed by the sea and the mouth of the River Blyth. Across the Blyth is the<a href="https://www.exploresouthwold.co.uk/"> pleasant and interesting seaside town of Southwold</a>, which has a lighthouse, an excellent brewery (Adnams) and a wonderful quirky little pier. When we first knew it, Southwold was a half forgotten gem of a seaside resort, but has now become a bit too busy for our taste, and anyway, Walberswick still has a slightly cut off feeling, which we like. There is no pier, no lighthouse, no brewery in Walberswick, not to mention no beachfront shops and - well, there's nothing much, really, except sea, sand and pebbles, plus a collection of black-tarred weatherboarded huts, an attractive mix of houses, a couple of teas/gift shops and a lot of marshland and reed-beds. </div><p style="text-align: center;">We had the beach almost to ourselves, because, despite the bright sunshine, it was <i>freezing.</i> I was really glad I'd bought windproof coat, scarf and gloves. The people in the picture were going at quite a speed, more or less blown along by the wind, which comes straight from Russia. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLMd7hmcEE55rlRVtZcdbxXKuFsZnToeCHPDBUYRwYGaucPOfEAmVU1nJf56ptydjhdR2yEsVEqzvUpccC7x83uQDwFovecHaV3ff_z2ihgWtq7acAh3mOgTJSA_nOXIzk9JMdmtWRAZINuS2521NXHpq8J1TT2myaS9QTAyf0rGDtPBaQlg_PheZ/s4000/IMG_7816.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLMd7hmcEE55rlRVtZcdbxXKuFsZnToeCHPDBUYRwYGaucPOfEAmVU1nJf56ptydjhdR2yEsVEqzvUpccC7x83uQDwFovecHaV3ff_z2ihgWtq7acAh3mOgTJSA_nOXIzk9JMdmtWRAZINuS2521NXHpq8J1TT2myaS9QTAyf0rGDtPBaQlg_PheZ/w640-h480/IMG_7816.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Although there are no icecream stands on Walberswick beach, there is an icecream van in the car park, and that was doing a surprisingly good trade. Admittedly, it's sheltered from the freezing wind there, and has even put out a couple of tables for people to sit at and enjoy their icecreams. It also does a sideline in hiring out crabbing equipment, and I noticed from the solar panel on its roof, that it was running off solar electricity, hence the slogan across its windscreen, FROZEN BY SUNSHINE. If I'd been able to feel my hands I'd probably have bought an icecream from these enterprising people, but I'm just not as tough as the locals. I needed my gloves.</div><div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-khzWU9OhxyIow7JEIHMpmJX3R54i1pCOZqyYC3e33zpH5qnKfciOppxBoZ_0xVM14jaooiU7O1eG63O3Phwh6EpBSKad8f4O42moxOWeyEU0xgo8_fEGTxvojXi6POfqKkmqM9yQzHSscrkSjUCoCNrbMO3pPs3YOahBbWsczDdhvP5TZOXOY68U/s459/traditional%20ice%20cream%20walberswick%20frozen%20by%20sunshine.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="385" data-original-width="459" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-khzWU9OhxyIow7JEIHMpmJX3R54i1pCOZqyYC3e33zpH5qnKfciOppxBoZ_0xVM14jaooiU7O1eG63O3Phwh6EpBSKad8f4O42moxOWeyEU0xgo8_fEGTxvojXi6POfqKkmqM9yQzHSscrkSjUCoCNrbMO3pPs3YOahBbWsczDdhvP5TZOXOY68U/w640-h536/traditional%20ice%20cream%20walberswick%20frozen%20by%20sunshine.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p style="text-align: center;">Walberswick is small, but has a long history and many interesting buildings. The local church presents a strange sight, though. Those ruins exist because Walberswick had been a very prosperous port for hundreds of years, and in medieval times had built an incredibly large and splendid church, one of the most notable in East Anglia. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> Unfortunately, a combination of coastal erosion, which silted up the port, the turmoil caused by Henry VIII's dissolution of the monasteries, extensive damage in the Civil War and attacks on its splendid fittings and fixtures by fanatical local Puritans, meant that the church became a liability to the increasingly beleaguered parishioners. Finally, in the 17th century, they sold off the lead from most of their now crumbling church's roof, as much good stone as they could, and whatever fittings and fixtures could raise some cash. They then repaired and adapted part of one of the original aisles to create a much smaller, but still very beautiful and interesting church. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfy5h4LDD2qrmErqA7NegidExTm5BjrYwEzibOYY7CyYNHUFX7zVEsLhgHtZJ7d7HMDmAE7VS1SyjkD5aJi6mgKswGsv43isNRFQmmtFGL-gIX-Q99uc_j4qxDQYZLrhc47r62oPu-1s_FliuKsyamHU2OzkViDfaQHb1S5EgMIn1DUZZOkgZU7qm/s1213/view%20walberswick%20church%20and%20ruins.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="1213" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfy5h4LDD2qrmErqA7NegidExTm5BjrYwEzibOYY7CyYNHUFX7zVEsLhgHtZJ7d7HMDmAE7VS1SyjkD5aJi6mgKswGsv43isNRFQmmtFGL-gIX-Q99uc_j4qxDQYZLrhc47r62oPu-1s_FliuKsyamHU2OzkViDfaQHb1S5EgMIn1DUZZOkgZU7qm/w640-h480/view%20walberswick%20church%20and%20ruins.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">The church has unique features, including a splendid pulpit from the 1400s and lovely altar fittings made from driftwood, but I was puzzled by one unique feature I spotted - strange rune-like carvings running around the bottom of the West Window. Can you see them on this picture, beneath the elaborate old flint work? I couldn't find anything about them in the church guide. They seem purposeful, and are not symmetrical or, apparently, symbolic of anything Christian. This is the runic alphabet</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeK7qb6wKB5U1RrfjLwyVh8MJ-lvkZ6dd8qcj7m8MZifpRvrtBKFZVSYsoYFIghfkrLnNJK4p3k6J2yIz2RnG2j3MYJsc-BHDEXcKxBZ_482B4qmqr9ErBrpZTFgWortZjqVWg4aOazTVqoZzuiKtf5msbheAcMmAmL_PKovmKApVUrIlQSR0xRTnG/s220/runes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="199" data-original-width="220" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeK7qb6wKB5U1RrfjLwyVh8MJ-lvkZ6dd8qcj7m8MZifpRvrtBKFZVSYsoYFIghfkrLnNJK4p3k6J2yIz2RnG2j3MYJsc-BHDEXcKxBZ_482B4qmqr9ErBrpZTFgWortZjqVWg4aOazTVqoZzuiKtf5msbheAcMmAmL_PKovmKApVUrIlQSR0xRTnG/s1600/runes.jpg" width="220" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">but I'm not sure if the symbols match these. However, if they're from way back, then they might well have been put in upside down or in random order - people often re-used dressed stone because it was so expensive to quarry and manufacture. But the carving doesn't look, say, a thousand years old, or anything like that, so I can't imagine why anyone would have been allowed to carve this on a church in more recent times. I asked son in law G, who knows a lot about folklore, but even he seems puzzled. </div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrQxkwCgPg-ixI-he1vB6zMe8Zu13dwWVm68i4HslXUqtR5NJP0hQC7ecdTREDjbV39iISBIgOCke6of4kg8aPSdRVqwethwfoO5SBabDK0SEZYjsIZlrjiVn6IidRSCqNO0-NNtdzTOImjo1AoFlwdqZ2Ni8A6r0SgP9IVCzEAqM77YHOBUEesPMw/s1798/runes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1246" data-original-width="1798" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrQxkwCgPg-ixI-he1vB6zMe8Zu13dwWVm68i4HslXUqtR5NJP0hQC7ecdTREDjbV39iISBIgOCke6of4kg8aPSdRVqwethwfoO5SBabDK0SEZYjsIZlrjiVn6IidRSCqNO0-NNtdzTOImjo1AoFlwdqZ2Ni8A6r0SgP9IVCzEAqM77YHOBUEesPMw/w640-h444/runes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;">Mind you there are some pretty odd things on this church, including at least one very rude sculpture, high up on the roof, which should not be reproduced in a polite blog like this one. Ancient churches were often covered in symbols of evil as well as of good, and discovering these remnants of past lives is one of the reason I love exploring English country churches so much. There is a lot we don't know about how ordinary people lived, thought and worshipped centuries ago, when witchcraft and fairies, gnomes, demons and dragons were so very real to them. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I can show you this face, though, marooned in what once a window, now blocked with odd blocks and bricks and tiles. That too looks like nothing I have ever seen before. Is it a person? A fish? A lion that has lost its ears?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXquF9uVPzCGubd_1gHzR5qQvYeAFZG7hmXXhz8sQH4MLT6qxvVtOUsxesUc3Hr4MlPkkL8p9Hhn6l7Ik0p9DcaA90X71aoExDhUNr9FRuTTJNUsCK_SGr2zmS_g7Xvxk7QGxnewauBVggd2Dj_W1ROF6tjw_0mPgGQogNwkRA_ENhPKLhy_2xZSFy/s1892/old%20face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1486" data-original-width="1892" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXquF9uVPzCGubd_1gHzR5qQvYeAFZG7hmXXhz8sQH4MLT6qxvVtOUsxesUc3Hr4MlPkkL8p9Hhn6l7Ik0p9DcaA90X71aoExDhUNr9FRuTTJNUsCK_SGr2zmS_g7Xvxk7QGxnewauBVggd2Dj_W1ROF6tjw_0mPgGQogNwkRA_ENhPKLhy_2xZSFy/s320/old%20face.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Walberswick seems to have a thatcher and there are examples of his work throughout the place. I liked this roof just up the road from the church, with animals created from thatch on the ridge. </div><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2bAGg7xTWODu1_vpJMhjfln4ndgQ2ttBWU1cteAs_Hnpa7hdDa8DhpO2gFPE_CDG40aeXKucsvnvzSN68OiUoXH5mSHc6N6VzrqphMqlOMOuUPPRp-smFO6Q19SYq22FuWWSCSBq7BraxLR0bwEEM4XHrqr22wYBd_JytfUfBnfJj1moM7q8mt5go/s1213/animals%20on%20thatch%20walberswick.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="1213" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2bAGg7xTWODu1_vpJMhjfln4ndgQ2ttBWU1cteAs_Hnpa7hdDa8DhpO2gFPE_CDG40aeXKucsvnvzSN68OiUoXH5mSHc6N6VzrqphMqlOMOuUPPRp-smFO6Q19SYq22FuWWSCSBq7BraxLR0bwEEM4XHrqr22wYBd_JytfUfBnfJj1moM7q8mt5go/w640-h480/animals%20on%20thatch%20walberswick.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;">So we revisited familiar places and met up with friends in Suffolk, and returned to London just before Easter. We spent Easter day with K and family and enjoyed an Easter Dove cake which they had lugged home all the way from a little bakery in Italy. It is a kind of panettone flavoured with citrus and almonds. It was beautifully wrapped in orange</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAps5l9k-FDbZeyy2bLyQX1mhikfOHXyH7xe_a5_Iigwv1Iw8kkG8z_Svsk45XnVsz-UAbMFawoIByDWJ49j6TJEXEtBaP5t09PnMHo0MJ_AtcOfLkmYNA3DLFYa5nRUJ0M6SJulVW56p5-5B7uEcCN6LuAsLViIqt_TCPAvPlG5-2-MSOFNK8V0TJ/s1076/wrapped%20panettone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1076" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAps5l9k-FDbZeyy2bLyQX1mhikfOHXyH7xe_a5_Iigwv1Iw8kkG8z_Svsk45XnVsz-UAbMFawoIByDWJ49j6TJEXEtBaP5t09PnMHo0MJ_AtcOfLkmYNA3DLFYa5nRUJ0M6SJulVW56p5-5B7uEcCN6LuAsLViIqt_TCPAvPlG5-2-MSOFNK8V0TJ/w416-h640/wrapped%20panettone.jpg" width="416" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was hard to make out the shape of the dove, which it is supposed to represent. Still, it tasted good! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9OZAXXewm-r7WJPhuukt1zJUUfQB5FmQsz5zsvN04AKv-sIIYqwbSh7mLhdG02jweir84F54iYMXrO-IPjLuQUN2XUF6Ia8MdLMMfkrwBFIRPTfd5u5Lz4A6ncckvqVyYLSAqZnOzqukEZt4I1fWfsTqPaquVQeJAzEROIja-TX0EA5wjB3XuBsQc/s825/pannetone%20dove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="825" data-original-width="672" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9OZAXXewm-r7WJPhuukt1zJUUfQB5FmQsz5zsvN04AKv-sIIYqwbSh7mLhdG02jweir84F54iYMXrO-IPjLuQUN2XUF6Ia8MdLMMfkrwBFIRPTfd5u5Lz4A6ncckvqVyYLSAqZnOzqukEZt4I1fWfsTqPaquVQeJAzEROIja-TX0EA5wjB3XuBsQc/w522-h640/pannetone%20dove.jpg" width="522" /></a></div> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And oh, the Navettes de Marseille I mentioned above. All French towns seem to have their traditional biscuits andlocal delicacies. These little boat shaped, orange flavoured biscuits are typical of Provence, and widely sold in Marseille. (The other biscuits shown are also from Marseille, similarly flavoured with orange but also full of nuts, and have a different name which I forget.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLU5RUfIZbB9EO6k63BkHHmwWyTAvagOJCv8dsoAEbXRCQHpEDdZPs-5HKMv5ytm_HQd2Iar0ta9jlAQyvG8G44vpELJJeht-W_M9HXJaSapQ0y-qKBO3BhxbDExmWn9Am0dBKcbzfUjwVHSL9efsSZddDWaXQkgWcEOJxFBoYfM-nFOxY-G2LyX1/s4000/IMG_7959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLU5RUfIZbB9EO6k63BkHHmwWyTAvagOJCv8dsoAEbXRCQHpEDdZPs-5HKMv5ytm_HQd2Iar0ta9jlAQyvG8G44vpELJJeht-W_M9HXJaSapQ0y-qKBO3BhxbDExmWn9Am0dBKcbzfUjwVHSL9efsSZddDWaXQkgWcEOJxFBoYfM-nFOxY-G2LyX1/w640-h480/IMG_7959.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />The orange flavour comes mainly from orange-flower-water, a distinctive taste. They're not too sweet, and if you'd like to try them, I don't think they are too hard to make. I found a recipe from "Chef Sylvain" <a href="https://www.chefsylvain.fr/en/provencal-cookies/">here. (Sylvain has good recipes for other biscuits too). </a> I think I will give them a go.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So we had a good Easter week and Easter celebrations. In this world, where we are bombarded constantly with distressing news, it is good to do what we can to help, but also to remember there are many happy things to do and think about. I hope your Easter was also happy and peaceful. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-77991827533100327992022-04-08T21:46:00.011+01:002022-04-08T22:03:18.294+01:00Lights, Flamingoes and a Fortified Town. <p style="text-align: center;"> So what happened there?? I had half a dozen photos and a half written post about some interesting things in London, but we were just off to France, so I saved it and went off to catch the Eurostar. My plan was to publish the London post on my return, and take my time writing about France.</p><p style="text-align: center;">BUT, on my return from France, both pictures and text about the London stuff had gone! I don't understand it... but anyway here I am - and I'm going to write about France right now. </p><p style="text-align: center;">We went by train, something we're aiming to do more of, <span style="text-align: left;">partly for eco reasons, partly because it's so relaxing but also because when travelling on the Continent, stopovers can be such fun. So, three hours after boarding in London, we were in Paris, where we would spend our first night. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">To be honest, I'd fallen a bit out of love with Paris the last time we went, which must be ten years ago now. It had seemed dirty and traffick-y, and first impressions of the bear-garden that was the Gare du Nord didn't suggest anything had changed. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAgHO69L92OW9bQ4JSTti_0aCSJ2mGP8jDzrPp0tECIDJPGJQrxaLJUpLahbSBDs5eyNqW5864Nn3Fbf6rHrrl0qIdPMW34S6Q3nDUizctsu5xbHA-0h0RvGSTI36SP_mDVjZkXo_b_AW14GZIWkVJkjabUMon0LsaKN_J6ZWpmpr7YkBfppv3bwXd/s1638/Hall%20in%20gare%20du%20Nord.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="921" data-original-width="1638" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAgHO69L92OW9bQ4JSTti_0aCSJ2mGP8jDzrPp0tECIDJPGJQrxaLJUpLahbSBDs5eyNqW5864Nn3Fbf6rHrrl0qIdPMW34S6Q3nDUizctsu5xbHA-0h0RvGSTI36SP_mDVjZkXo_b_AW14GZIWkVJkjabUMon0LsaKN_J6ZWpmpr7YkBfppv3bwXd/w640-h360/Hall%20in%20gare%20du%20Nord.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">But it had! </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> We took the metro across town to an </span><span style="text-align: left;">inexpensive little hotel very near the Gare de Lyon train station. I was sure the area had been a bit of a dump, ten years ago. But now, the Gare de Lyon was in the throes of a massive renovation. Wow! Below is a picture of some splendid murals showing some of the enticing places you can reach from it by train, (or could reach around 100 years ago when they were painted.) They're doing a beautiful job of the renovation, and it all looked wonderful. I wished I could be standing under the tree in the far right panel and look out across that azure sea.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7RpIjEdNN0FMCAtIn1NzgUHKId1vdJRUT5sSViYS_rKBeWHllj-7DCmgHVfZBLSYgFJDuC7BKIvSEY99Utp_V6GoP-opsdHkCMfIr1OcRUXRtONI-FJLHJeVfY43yukeNUYxQKeXIrKNVLS8f7wAHPcwTXhcQdM9ws4RITit99YFQa5Lh0-Ct_LP/s4272/P2180012%20murals%20restored%20inside%20G%20de%20Lyon.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7RpIjEdNN0FMCAtIn1NzgUHKId1vdJRUT5sSViYS_rKBeWHllj-7DCmgHVfZBLSYgFJDuC7BKIvSEY99Utp_V6GoP-opsdHkCMfIr1OcRUXRtONI-FJLHJeVfY43yukeNUYxQKeXIrKNVLS8f7wAHPcwTXhcQdM9ws4RITit99YFQa5Lh0-Ct_LP/w640-h428/P2180012%20murals%20restored%20inside%20G%20de%20Lyon.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This area is also near the Coulée verte, a railway line now made into a linear garden and chasing away the faint aura of dirt and drabness that I had recalled. And all the street-clogging traffic that had bothered me so much before had been replaced with - well, the sight and sound of people. Some on bikes, but mainly just strolling around. There is no doubt that Paris has made real progress towards its aim of becoming a green city. </div><div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was pleasant how the old streets reflected sounds of voices and laughter, not traffic, and I almost fancied that the atmosphere might have been similar when all those famous and soon-to-be-famous painters were hanging out in Paris at the turn of the last century. It really felt like a nice, lively, creative place to be.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My friend and fellow blogger Jeanie had impressed on me that we must see Atelier des Lumières, a sound-and-light show in an old foundry. Its programmes usually centre on painters with a connection with Paris - and there certainly were a lot of those. The present main programme features Cezanne, the shorter one is about Kandinsky, and the theatre's about half an hour's walk from our hotel. It had a late opening, so we arrived around 9 PM to find it quite busy with people coming and going. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-lilk7HNZlUpVloYbswnoA6xOGw0WtOvgLn7akhtOxMySO7HGyyXre_od2GVvwOytw7tAlITKn4yDT6HZL0Qh0-zpjMFXVSfEEhZWt6UY9sIT2G6FJU-nQpZltpHViNpKr_GrQ2LNHLrjJKgLB8gPGq67suvjpVFB01MKuWf6eaWZWeu1C_0ZdES/s4000/IMG_7313.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-lilk7HNZlUpVloYbswnoA6xOGw0WtOvgLn7akhtOxMySO7HGyyXre_od2GVvwOytw7tAlITKn4yDT6HZL0Qh0-zpjMFXVSfEEhZWt6UY9sIT2G6FJU-nQpZltpHViNpKr_GrQ2LNHLrjJKgLB8gPGq67suvjpVFB01MKuWf6eaWZWeu1C_0ZdES/w640-h480/IMG_7313.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Jeanie has described her own impressions of the place<a href="https://themarmeladegypsy.blogspot.com/2018/11/paris-atelier.html"> here, </a>and I hope you'll enjoy reading it. As she says, it's an immersive all-round experience. You are free to wander around in a large space with pillars and huge walls, a long gallery above the main concourse, and even a sort of railed water pond in one corner (something to do with it being an old foundry, I guess.) The imagery is projected everywhere, and at times the whole place seems to move around you or sweep you away with it.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I thought the musical accompaniment was terrific - every piece well chosen and all of it well performed. Even though you do have to be there to get the full effect, here's a clip of one of my favourite parts. It is a couple of minutes of the Cezanne programme, performed to the music of the Savages' Dance in Rameau's opera-ballet "Les Indes Galantes". </div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="336" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3m4XHZd35ig" width="480" youtube-src-id="3m4XHZd35ig"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was worth missing an evening meal for - in fact we stayed to see some of it twice - but I wished we'd arranged to stay longer in Paris, because there were also some really nice, friendly, interesting and inexpensive restaurants on the way to it. Still, next day we were due to take the train to what is normally one of the sunniest cities in France - Montpellier. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As we rushed through the countryside at 200 km an hour, though, I couldn't help noticing that the beautifully sunny Paris weather was gradually giving way to greyer and greyer skies ... and as we drew into Montpellier, the windows actually began to streak with rain. By the time we were out of the station, cold rain was falling steadily. How had I managed to choose one of the few times in the year when Montpellier's weather was as dismal as London at its glummest? AND I'd made the fundamental mistake of arriving all ready to sightsee on Monday, the day in France where almost everything is closed! I put it down to the fact that I am simply out of practice in booking trips abroad after two years of Covid. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>There was little point in trying to look round Montpellier in freezing drizzle with nobody around and nowhere to go indoors. So we drove to our Airbnb, which was nice enough, an apartment in a modern villa about 15 km out of town, & we hoped the weather would improve next day...</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92JfwVax4kUUJ7XegqgqjunSfgYlChghrRVETKkzFeh45VJazWIY1oozofakL7mVqSk_wBMeZsPJJZf1UwglEJrfVVCzvAJScKt6J-uaNSCm2VrrpQtomEy01czpNzPBcgvQs4L1GwXLLkygbgU5OTRoztwYyYRYg3hKaZeSzrqqDwln269-XZt9I/s2226/Img_7373%20flamingoes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1983" data-original-width="2226" height="570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92JfwVax4kUUJ7XegqgqjunSfgYlChghrRVETKkzFeh45VJazWIY1oozofakL7mVqSk_wBMeZsPJJZf1UwglEJrfVVCzvAJScKt6J-uaNSCm2VrrpQtomEy01czpNzPBcgvQs4L1GwXLLkygbgU5OTRoztwYyYRYg3hKaZeSzrqqDwln269-XZt9I/w640-h570/Img_7373%20flamingoes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh, dear. It seemed that in the whole of Europe, only Spain had worse weather than us. Still, it had stopped raining even though the gale force winds were still arctic, not that the flamingoes feeding in the salt marshes in the coastal area Mageleone seemed too bothered. It was all a bit like November on the Essex coast, where the winds rush over the ocean from Russia. Quite nice, really, if you imagined it as that, and there were also white peacocks, which I don't think you get on the Essex coast. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtrKEgYsTN0BEK3G6K5FBDf24dCxbMcG90PiCSqfJ0D4HhjFcG-OmN6oKvNeBi9Ph7Ro6_b5ZyA4S2CTPfVqr_fAK8vFiaiAUhg1LWQf9TQutJSipoGaYLraiW371xw-jVOZANKS7dRovQzppRzjiIdJDfnWLADJJQpl6ONNHdel7dHcZKK0kAK4i/s1696/white%20peacock.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="1696" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtrKEgYsTN0BEK3G6K5FBDf24dCxbMcG90PiCSqfJ0D4HhjFcG-OmN6oKvNeBi9Ph7Ro6_b5ZyA4S2CTPfVqr_fAK8vFiaiAUhg1LWQf9TQutJSipoGaYLraiW371xw-jVOZANKS7dRovQzppRzjiIdJDfnWLADJJQpl6ONNHdel7dHcZKK0kAK4i/w640-h518/white%20peacock.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> But I was feeling tired - a legacy I think of my Covid infection, which had cleared up but still returns now and then for a few hours. I wasn't in the mood for Maguelone's big attraction, a gigantic medieval abbey, built on a spit of land in the sea. It is a place of high dark ceilings, long flights of ancient stone steps, and intense spirituality. Although it's partly restored, and does at least have electric light, its atmosphere is still very austere. The Friends of the Cathederal were operating a cafe nearby, and it was packed, but they seemed to rather enjoy telling us we were too late when we turned up desperate. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm glad to say that I felt better the next day and the weather reverted to its usual sunny self. It stayed bright (though not that warm) for the rest of our trip. On our first day, we took a six or seven mile walk to a neighbouring village, Murviel-lès-Montpellier, which has Roman ruins, a friendly village shop, nice woodland, several quaint old corners and interesting old buildings ....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUqvpyYEgk2apAtKvN4gnymxK9d3aMihSkKzZf7p0QYdYq-Ga7uUZ8yJZ_p7QZtKqmVU6Nrtj_BaXMaDEPWNyY6_jttASv4FeClj3QeXOi43mno23eFAr29r0mMYyAr5zPgDwEe_6XY0nfVu7bh99vEohdHWsu2MgPr_4UP3DueAXkNkeZPEc7koPB/s4272/P2180058%20house%20with%20alcove%20in%20Murveil.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUqvpyYEgk2apAtKvN4gnymxK9d3aMihSkKzZf7p0QYdYq-Ga7uUZ8yJZ_p7QZtKqmVU6Nrtj_BaXMaDEPWNyY6_jttASv4FeClj3QeXOi43mno23eFAr29r0mMYyAr5zPgDwEe_6XY0nfVu7bh99vEohdHWsu2MgPr_4UP3DueAXkNkeZPEc7koPB/w640-h428/P2180058%20house%20with%20alcove%20in%20Murveil.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and a few curious characters. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEite26A5Z643tdWT0InWrpNfgJA4TxS_xs13DZHufrTXdViuybzhHoij00p1-MMWk_e3PL4j-D1j0oFVAB7cc9BDMCZEK9XwiZlp8Tic41Yp9i3rGiNcz6ADUoaZoMgb4WCa88wHllMzUKR8uPGEwjyTpB45nDz73R8tKix-7gkSgt_Ulz6vKdcUy_5/s3172/loic%20elec.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2376" data-original-width="3172" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEite26A5Z643tdWT0InWrpNfgJA4TxS_xs13DZHufrTXdViuybzhHoij00p1-MMWk_e3PL4j-D1j0oFVAB7cc9BDMCZEK9XwiZlp8Tic41Yp9i3rGiNcz6ADUoaZoMgb4WCa88wHllMzUKR8uPGEwjyTpB45nDz73R8tKix-7gkSgt_Ulz6vKdcUy_5/w640-h480/loic%20elec.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> It was a good way of getting a feel for the area at this particular time of year, and even though we got lost in the woods on the way back, it was still a good day. Next day we visited what turned out to be one of my favourite places on the trip. Sète is one of the Occitanie region's main ports. It has a small network of canals, lots of interesting boats, fishermen ancient.... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtUlYW1JKBVpB2ptq39VOBagky5H4x-8BpErpWoLSyC0InjXSpj3lpN93uwzaJvmxJJ15WrbgZm0LliY-J4Zd6xPP2Hxciay4mIkjwgKOykMHtTx60N04BBBQee-az-ZemHLtLbiMDMqstHDbtbhNmhcLxwOUJco6AvFkPD2jkGRHDoiMIU7cyde5/s2224/old%20fisherman.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2224" height="552" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtUlYW1JKBVpB2ptq39VOBagky5H4x-8BpErpWoLSyC0InjXSpj3lpN93uwzaJvmxJJ15WrbgZm0LliY-J4Zd6xPP2Hxciay4mIkjwgKOykMHtTx60N04BBBQee-az-ZemHLtLbiMDMqstHDbtbhNmhcLxwOUJco6AvFkPD2jkGRHDoiMIU7cyde5/w640-h552/old%20fisherman.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and modern....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEZD1OomMfPzGuCU1SrbOO8Ucf4B1_gx3l0zU_lk_aaueX_y8i02fyN52DXu_h84z5OQEShtzGqGS4ikLzDRVMj8owqfNmO5jRwmcm-zT9Z5uJ0ueajzYPmnOABFjtyn2pt7CvTjk19BfAyBf0NA6EH27_DX14LaRADvL6RGuc7VRG_0COQnGtv63/s2313/new%20fishermen.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2199" data-original-width="2313" height="608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEZD1OomMfPzGuCU1SrbOO8Ucf4B1_gx3l0zU_lk_aaueX_y8i02fyN52DXu_h84z5OQEShtzGqGS4ikLzDRVMj8owqfNmO5jRwmcm-zT9Z5uJ0ueajzYPmnOABFjtyn2pt7CvTjk19BfAyBf0NA6EH27_DX14LaRADvL6RGuc7VRG_0COQnGtv63/w640-h608/new%20fishermen.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />It is a relaxed, laid back place, where you feel people come to enjoy themselves. The weather was not yet right for being on the beach, but there is a great sweep of blue flag beach which is a big attraction in the season. We were happy just exploring. The highlight might have been a delicious lunch in the nice little restaurant you can see in the picture below: LA MAISON VERTE - belly of pork casserole for me and asparagus for T. It was a good meal but the main thing for me was simply sitting out in the sun in a tranquil French square, with a magnificent sculpture of an <i>octopus</i> to look at. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I don't think I've ever seen a sculptured octopus before. It was part of a large fountain, with two water-spouting dolphins, a clear reference to Sète's fishing industry.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4kNiXXi8rD6yJQvGOhNoxZsrl7Zy-KFiyvEBHUwx1CphqqlmAbjjN9AiKc22ktyMIBnOZ009QsfwTw_EZQ3X7YGDurhijuhzeuBUAD6Vcj08MIExmJpq4lh2pEFKFxzeFicT4pDY-i2wJG7mvcnUvPiHmdKS6UujnYiI1S2UGl0KMqEgJAAwDwcUY/s4272/P2180049%20octopus%20reaching.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4kNiXXi8rD6yJQvGOhNoxZsrl7Zy-KFiyvEBHUwx1CphqqlmAbjjN9AiKc22ktyMIBnOZ009QsfwTw_EZQ3X7YGDurhijuhzeuBUAD6Vcj08MIExmJpq4lh2pEFKFxzeFicT4pDY-i2wJG7mvcnUvPiHmdKS6UujnYiI1S2UGl0KMqEgJAAwDwcUY/w640-h429/P2180049%20octopus%20reaching.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />T and I spent a long time taking pictures of this octopus. The sculptor, Pierre Nocca, did a fine job considering octopi are so wriggly, aquatic and boneless, and it is genuinely imposing. Which makes it seem sad that one of the local delicacies is <a href="http://www.destination-languedoc.co.uk/articles/tielle-octopus-pie-from-sete-745-2.html">octopus pie. </a> The pies look nice, but I didn't try eating one. Octopuses are very intelligent and I am told that if you get to know them you find they are real characters, as much as a cat or dog would be. Still, I was fighting a lonely battle in Sète about this.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> the town also had one of the nicest icecream shops I have seen. Wouldn't anyone like to have one of these? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98riIf18dkyogBLeChDtGygV93bbTQxNWSMuZfL41puu9X-Xqj-I1C5hBrIgwuE-VuyK0TeC14UfV08JtrQCev1g7bZyKqUuCd-y0BQD3jvrhK0WN8eqiu6CYg60MUxYwbZnn3_6_OWKyM_JDHIYga3hN48_JC_XKD2v_kb6LFPCvwqnt-_15Qx4G/s2121/Img_7423%20icecreams.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="894" data-original-width="2121" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98riIf18dkyogBLeChDtGygV93bbTQxNWSMuZfL41puu9X-Xqj-I1C5hBrIgwuE-VuyK0TeC14UfV08JtrQCev1g7bZyKqUuCd-y0BQD3jvrhK0WN8eqiu6CYg60MUxYwbZnn3_6_OWKyM_JDHIYga3hN48_JC_XKD2v_kb6LFPCvwqnt-_15Qx4G/w640-h270/Img_7423%20icecreams.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There were also adverts around for a local biscuit made in the shape of one of the shields used by competitors in the remarkable sport of water jousting, popular in the region.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ztvWP3WBy_t4p_hSB6vXfPdbwvBAlhZCF0DtR2JLOnt6Zex58bY93TGnSF0TGd_DjJ46DdHPCbDbFVvwjX_BHjoT5Yq0M7z7Iyl9ItUo0_1nLZQg7gjHanXKEf5vjRyKAuUScHggPnWywgThmiQQFyAYGBGmlb91Zw7SL7o-W1ISXXpi1ByfPmJQ/s921/Le%20pavois%20sete.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="921" data-original-width="518" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ztvWP3WBy_t4p_hSB6vXfPdbwvBAlhZCF0DtR2JLOnt6Zex58bY93TGnSF0TGd_DjJ46DdHPCbDbFVvwjX_BHjoT5Yq0M7z7Iyl9ItUo0_1nLZQg7gjHanXKEf5vjRyKAuUScHggPnWywgThmiQQFyAYGBGmlb91Zw7SL7o-W1ISXXpi1ByfPmJQ/w360-h640/Le%20pavois%20sete.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I didn't see it as the big tournament is on 25 August, but I found this on Youtube. It looks a bit slow and a bit rough but I'd love to see those beautiful boats shooting along the canals in real life. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7WPg15cBRFg" width="320" youtube-src-id="7WPg15cBRFg"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> Sète was in striking contrast with Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert, which we visited on another day. This ancient place is in the gorges of Hérault, away from the flat coastal region, and in an area of big craggy wooded hills and cliffs. Its name means "St Guilhem the Deserted" and its huge abbey, a site of pilgrimage, was established there in the Middle Ages because it was so remote and inaccessible. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's no longer deserted, and in fact I think it could become uncomfortably crowded in the height of the tourist season, but it was quite delightful when we went. Below is a picture taken in the main square, showing part of the abbey on the right hand side. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIAEjP9pz-ROAkdMNyQ9gQN2h70Pm_2cDKaAZUYmDeRyxElM4k687KrpSXyqGf3zWCK5qmq-dBq823w1FA3aalNDIVff_J8RxkThb_0mLCGYAuxXc4CQj8q16Hc0UpHgj4Ff7IcXfdQ0YQr0y0OaZT-MQ_zcg9nGmC_c3KzT2eiZS5h6cDB2v1Zaz/s4000/IMG_7469.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIAEjP9pz-ROAkdMNyQ9gQN2h70Pm_2cDKaAZUYmDeRyxElM4k687KrpSXyqGf3zWCK5qmq-dBq823w1FA3aalNDIVff_J8RxkThb_0mLCGYAuxXc4CQj8q16Hc0UpHgj4Ff7IcXfdQ0YQr0y0OaZT-MQ_zcg9nGmC_c3KzT2eiZS5h6cDB2v1Zaz/w640-h480/IMG_7469.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">If you look very closely indeed at the top of the tallest crag in the picture, you may spot ruins - the locals have named them the "Giants Castle" and created a fanciful legend about them, but in reality they are very old fortifications overlooking the whole area. We walked up one of the narrow, stony donkey paths in the hills and got a fine view of the village (below). You can see more of the Giant's Castle on the left, but you're warned not to climb up to it because it is now unstable.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-sKCzi1mhbtEeC7lL7rgAKKHOl_dtFlIYjWueLlQy3UFCmcr1_u_hsYC76z7G4-iZNx-xr3z4zKF48G9BCULx4YQYF47wpqVQNHnn8Plvvv1-sTHUd31kuezA8EFy8tEMmQlQ2AJeiCKyF9n6favbw7H-iYqejf_m53Qr_6Fam0OVrpfuHNsVVCI/s4000/IMG_7485.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-sKCzi1mhbtEeC7lL7rgAKKHOl_dtFlIYjWueLlQy3UFCmcr1_u_hsYC76z7G4-iZNx-xr3z4zKF48G9BCULx4YQYF47wpqVQNHnn8Plvvv1-sTHUd31kuezA8EFy8tEMmQlQ2AJeiCKyF9n6favbw7H-iYqejf_m53Qr_6Fam0OVrpfuHNsVVCI/w480-h640/IMG_7485.JPG" width="480" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> On another day we went southeast of Montpellier to Agues-Mortes, where the Camargue region begins. The Camargue has miles of salt marsh designated as a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ramsar_site">Ramsar Wetland Site </a>and we would have liked to explore it more. We had glimpsed some of its characteristic salt marsh and flamingoes at Maguelone, but it and Aigues-Mortes are too near Montpellier and are too built up to offer glimpses of the wild horses or bull ranches for which the area is also famous. We only caught a few glimpses down forgotten side roads of a different and older landscape of reeds and water, which I found very attractive. Here's a spot outside a farm near Aigues-Mortes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-3QF_K4uTaX9rkLtFdF5dXV_rWK138PJp1w9q3FPLeQ4_b6k_Gasye-drc9tZvM2X4sRSLznGHQq37QgBJKYyWksVwVklNq0SRoZcDKekFyRKI3hLSOWvRsTH3HWR1e-2LlcDKCJJP1YlKgFMustAlShijIY3mdSjtEPdCgVXdxHMH3XA6_S7XMq/s2598/Img_7555.reeds%20and%20water.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="2598" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-3QF_K4uTaX9rkLtFdF5dXV_rWK138PJp1w9q3FPLeQ4_b6k_Gasye-drc9tZvM2X4sRSLznGHQq37QgBJKYyWksVwVklNq0SRoZcDKekFyRKI3hLSOWvRsTH3HWR1e-2LlcDKCJJP1YlKgFMustAlShijIY3mdSjtEPdCgVXdxHMH3XA6_S7XMq/w640-h498/Img_7555.reeds%20and%20water.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />So, Aigues-Mortes (thought to mean "Dead Water" in the Latin of the Romans who lived there first) is a well-and-truly fortified town. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPymABxinTD8Y0XhaDzkW-onYII7oko4x_KfvCzXtTrM-57QmpO0_5fg7DbpI6plagbF_dku2RCFhEM8i2xOopNhrXSF_XXsceOUIsmWvQBCpBR08gPodHK1N5gFWCDKMGxczHrredN4FShwyJMqfHUBXt-yNx7ONBXk4xZR2dn8DZo4N9QzQk8NO/s3816/P2180103%20%20outside%20Aigues%20Mortes.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2238" data-original-width="3816" height="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPymABxinTD8Y0XhaDzkW-onYII7oko4x_KfvCzXtTrM-57QmpO0_5fg7DbpI6plagbF_dku2RCFhEM8i2xOopNhrXSF_XXsceOUIsmWvQBCpBR08gPodHK1N5gFWCDKMGxczHrredN4FShwyJMqfHUBXt-yNx7ONBXk4xZR2dn8DZo4N9QzQk8NO/w640-h376/P2180103%20%20outside%20Aigues%20Mortes.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It has four gates, which are open to motor traffic since people actually live inside - because it is a proper town in there, or at least a large village. And the local people need their cars and shops and church. The visitors, of course, have to walk.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYU1LRn1OxnlR37Fm2Et5DQR7Nd1zfkgyvoE_JM5s93ymuLkuc3vuqBj2kGAXgTAyGk1y6UfblBOw7P2hKA8WrwtBqOq1UQF3BJYKrh-vUVMsHmFiYoX3cvGSXWFMFuP4o0VhX-9NC3e6WfT1dzxPjEt2275A1_NfbgK1CR5ElSK7HlD9Zio0ECNFQ/s4000/Img_7519%20fortified.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYU1LRn1OxnlR37Fm2Et5DQR7Nd1zfkgyvoE_JM5s93ymuLkuc3vuqBj2kGAXgTAyGk1y6UfblBOw7P2hKA8WrwtBqOq1UQF3BJYKrh-vUVMsHmFiYoX3cvGSXWFMFuP4o0VhX-9NC3e6WfT1dzxPjEt2275A1_NfbgK1CR5ElSK7HlD9Zio0ECNFQ/w480-h640/Img_7519%20fortified.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And here's a map of the place - it is a decent size but you can see how contained it is. It must seem very strange to be there if they ever put the portcullises down. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5BZNZUaoKa4WbO2bTXXBOgvQaG64R_bukl9pzm3fELn7Ngh8kq0fls-grivoNcZfMqLiZMAwVWnmG8HiAYKrqbtLw8AK9rwmKWCw8kq9AmIpO6Wb3CHkgrONJSFPd_H7Ula984M-LetfB-_gksSwJjmzxqUpdGkm_GDKEiG8E-ZMP6vkNGm1xitqJ/s3340/map%20of%20aigues%20mortes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="3340" height="490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5BZNZUaoKa4WbO2bTXXBOgvQaG64R_bukl9pzm3fELn7Ngh8kq0fls-grivoNcZfMqLiZMAwVWnmG8HiAYKrqbtLw8AK9rwmKWCw8kq9AmIpO6Wb3CHkgrONJSFPd_H7Ula984M-LetfB-_gksSwJjmzxqUpdGkm_GDKEiG8E-ZMP6vkNGm1xitqJ/w640-h490/map%20of%20aigues%20mortes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I liked this lighthouse, which was added onto one of the enormous towers a few centuries ago and must have offered a welcome but dim and flickering light in a storm. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28Dvmv9mI8mnNvC5PTqKm691Xj_T7_7YMMhgfV-Sv3EjjMR2gpJFkh6Qk0hEbVknf8NjzlqlKQ4GFMnSIweDfisSpkiHmY19xrm3YN8vz0yEKnvG2PH7hsesJc_4rB7ffzFHpnDz9GUX2HEZZa0lHEan9NcxKbQ0YyBQ-tC_GL-JGUXgiQwy4JsaE/s1638/tower%20and%20trees.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="921" data-original-width="1638" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28Dvmv9mI8mnNvC5PTqKm691Xj_T7_7YMMhgfV-Sv3EjjMR2gpJFkh6Qk0hEbVknf8NjzlqlKQ4GFMnSIweDfisSpkiHmY19xrm3YN8vz0yEKnvG2PH7hsesJc_4rB7ffzFHpnDz9GUX2HEZZa0lHEan9NcxKbQ0YyBQ-tC_GL-JGUXgiQwy4JsaE/w640-h360/tower%20and%20trees.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And then, we found we had run out of days. I wished we'd stayed longer and explored more. I really do think Covid has narrowed my horizons more than I realised. I had, in some strange way, almost forgotten that you could get on the train and go somewhere else, and I'd booked our tickets back to London far too soon for my taste.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now I'm keen to look at the idea of another train trip to France, perhaps in autumn, and perhaps even getting as far as Italy or Spain. It still blows my mind to think I can cycle to the train station in London, catch a train, step out into the middle of Paris a few hours later and be all ready to catch a train to the centre of Biarritz or Barcelona. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Vive l'Eurostar!</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div><p></p></div></div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-17530453620595412402022-03-04T19:44:00.009+00:002022-03-04T19:51:27.489+00:00My Little Life....<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjUwZ4KaJ8e2wc5q79CwKQEju_VgHVwsX37UEYolfEzzp0GKzUGzexmEVq_r7nj9a1K3fSJPB07f_yjLIxHEqdts76cpWkJt76LL9tdPhxbo2hjMI7bjf9Q-z8ztcFCj4RMtIC4JmrRrr_5-Te3e08o4sv8AeT7ZHZ0GwqpvU91BteJVrVmZDmS9NZ5=s3088" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="3088" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjUwZ4KaJ8e2wc5q79CwKQEju_VgHVwsX37UEYolfEzzp0GKzUGzexmEVq_r7nj9a1K3fSJPB07f_yjLIxHEqdts76cpWkJt76LL9tdPhxbo2hjMI7bjf9Q-z8ztcFCj4RMtIC4JmrRrr_5-Te3e08o4sv8AeT7ZHZ0GwqpvU91BteJVrVmZDmS9NZ5=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Please forgive me if I mainly write about my own little life in this blog - and I'll enjoy reading about yours, too. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But before I tell you about my doings, I have to say how devastated I am about Ukraine. Here's the sunflower - we all know what it means to have it at the top of a post. I am contributing to help Ukrainians flee from the catastrophe, and to look after the ones that manage to make their way to safety. I'm also doing my civic duty to pile political pressure on our government. I am ashamed that Britain's ruling Conservative party, government ministers and even the PM, have been shown to have taken literally million of pounds worth of perks, gifts and "donations" by billionaires close to Putin, and I do think we need to know what they've given in return. I am also thinking about the ordinary Russians, many of whom are having their lives turned upside down or ruined by this nightmare situation. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So I've said that, because I need to, and because it needs to be said. But now I will try to stay off the subject if I can. It is hard, but I know there is no point in worrying and fretting. We are just ordinary people and can only do what we can do. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Since all Covid restrictions were removed here, people have started to travel again. And I do like that feeling of normality. I've been delighted to receive gifts from returning travellers too. This is Persian pistachio nougat, which comes from the city of Isfahan. I've had it before and it's not sweet and sticky, but delicate and nutty. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYkmk8CjMx3-FOIQGuKDPd-2j67wR7Q7sTAJXxK-NO6OltSBv3ZFgll2Yr_79TYumUCJwJueKDVc7oY8c2rr-7QkzvVTgC5qGJmvpwKuZAIxbxUCPrT4dTmLEFeMU9DvG-XpTLWz8bGm3osz1y0pYMBz5_S5pxcecYLOARP-zb90NTqgviDmFMNzib=s3295" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2615" data-original-width="3295" height="509" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYkmk8CjMx3-FOIQGuKDPd-2j67wR7Q7sTAJXxK-NO6OltSBv3ZFgll2Yr_79TYumUCJwJueKDVc7oY8c2rr-7QkzvVTgC5qGJmvpwKuZAIxbxUCPrT4dTmLEFeMU9DvG-XpTLWz8bGm3osz1y0pYMBz5_S5pxcecYLOARP-zb90NTqgviDmFMNzib=w640-h509" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">And here are saffron filaments in a beautiful box, also from Persia. I'm planning to make a saffron cake for Easter. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwnQs9ZGu_MaFaIOJ1STzS4laDGcgAKWbU0ahBoLuFLAesWRDjwdXlqvW0eaaZ8cjEaGW85mA0IwRVpe94nNqv0wwoRqwDT8ey1NTSHnTAdyqeqdZe-C_OHvpgMRZIkM6UNhZH-eLVIQz-CKSz6Hql18Ws4U3mqAjRsOUYp3b5a361_DmQtb-sch37=s2365" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1905" data-original-width="2365" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwnQs9ZGu_MaFaIOJ1STzS4laDGcgAKWbU0ahBoLuFLAesWRDjwdXlqvW0eaaZ8cjEaGW85mA0IwRVpe94nNqv0wwoRqwDT8ey1NTSHnTAdyqeqdZe-C_OHvpgMRZIkM6UNhZH-eLVIQz-CKSz6Hql18Ws4U3mqAjRsOUYp3b5a361_DmQtb-sch37=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is a rather trendy ginger beer concentrate from Belgium. It's promoted as an alternative to alcoholic drinks, and since I love ginger, I'm looking forward to trying it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9iBYM6xx4b3AXzny3BJy9X__b9Rwc_aA2NU78ijlir3gRHE14cI8zsYx8jlQBgtkJL3-M11R3cQIquqZFAu0sZfKD8nQTjOPCE-3o7y7I-PsXaADcx4EGxs_uAQbY3vVXctK8JdrL3njfOeRKa9K7XeoZpMEeBvwAQy9o6jQPfFN1kMs85q4hQDTF=s2790" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2790" data-original-width="1810" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9iBYM6xx4b3AXzny3BJy9X__b9Rwc_aA2NU78ijlir3gRHE14cI8zsYx8jlQBgtkJL3-M11R3cQIquqZFAu0sZfKD8nQTjOPCE-3o7y7I-PsXaADcx4EGxs_uAQbY3vVXctK8JdrL3njfOeRKa9K7XeoZpMEeBvwAQy9o6jQPfFN1kMs85q4hQDTF=w260-h400" width="260" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And these chocolates, also from Brussels, are <i>beautiful.</i> I (almost) feel I'd be happy not to ruin the display by eating one, and just admire them for a while. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgu0a_Ps68i6yiPFiZ8VoWLLinm19dVY8nfX24Rx-oArv8npkqrXVbvCUCJwtvr4VxaYR87t_fe7hSolZrQYM2_Rse3JGztrldlQHgbX9ifJZ6KPhIylQ9d6YH2AGOls6y6ZlWOKL-2Axwh_4XVxAb_Yd7U3WO1bFa8FfT_tOPzmC1-IfLbnk1jaFyp=s3860" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1645" data-original-width="3860" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgu0a_Ps68i6yiPFiZ8VoWLLinm19dVY8nfX24Rx-oArv8npkqrXVbvCUCJwtvr4VxaYR87t_fe7hSolZrQYM2_Rse3JGztrldlQHgbX9ifJZ6KPhIylQ9d6YH2AGOls6y6ZlWOKL-2Axwh_4XVxAb_Yd7U3WO1bFa8FfT_tOPzmC1-IfLbnk1jaFyp=w640-h272" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">AND (talking of travel) we've booked a short holiday abroad. These days, I don't anticipate too much, because we've all found how things can change. But, all being well, we'll soon be heading to a village near Montpellier, in southwest France. It's on the edge of the national park of the Haut-Languedoc, and not too far from the sea. We're booked in an Airbnb whose main feature seems to be a very friendly dog (the owner has included several pictures of this dog in his listing).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The twins missed their birthday party in February for a second year running, because their dad had Covid, but they feel they had a great birthday because 1. they both got watches, so they happily spent hours timing each other doing things, and 2. They had an early morning doughnut each in the old fashioned patisserie on the way to school. They're never allowed doughnuts and so this was a massive treat. and 3. At school, they got cake and were applauded in class. And, 4. After school they went to the Community Centre playscheme and everyone gave them cake and cheered them there, too. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This Community Centre is hugely popular. The staff pick up children from the local primary schools and look after them till six. All the ages mix together and are kept very busy with arts, crafts, games, music and projects, with a bit of TV to wind down. The centre also gets donations from all the nearby fancy bakeries at the end of the day, so there are heaps of bread and cakes - what doesn't get eaten is available for parents and carers to take away. I am not kidding, i've never seen a kid there who wants to go home. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNmnAOQvgpygwIrbMMdunLRuypYQid_m8ek8rhPeXf9UfpFHgG276qm_BO0VcoUvz67PEFWLw-FdspdKwp6vX8R7bxmw4Eq7izEoq7C-EzZqZ2Swa21_wpQoVzbXYyiGK9Zl6rsz3DjKIo6DLQe-9SpaOihtwrNV9DjlUFMNRxbrg6LAbNKGWLb9NI=s500" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="486" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNmnAOQvgpygwIrbMMdunLRuypYQid_m8ek8rhPeXf9UfpFHgG276qm_BO0VcoUvz67PEFWLw-FdspdKwp6vX8R7bxmw4Eq7izEoq7C-EzZqZ2Swa21_wpQoVzbXYyiGK9Zl6rsz3DjKIo6DLQe-9SpaOihtwrNV9DjlUFMNRxbrg6LAbNKGWLb9NI=w622-h640" width="622" /></a></div><br />Last weekend we had the twins to sleep over a couple of nights. It was tiring but fun. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Both twins are in their primary school's football teams (one for boys, one for girls), so during the weekend, we spent quite a while outdoors while they kicked balls around. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPv5OboPzW1ssDp-6sPA4RP0RFMYq3JJLrcWBJmHPpX4FBifIl3sLV-ER9dCvizx1JPMl1j4ld06h8HFVN7qNssPs5IU_Vh4rpFq7tPxbqQD_FFAhOmvTRFc6eUXH3sfTyHorqUe-_opwnqcMx8ORjzX3rw4GZGAOX-fRTpXG8Q1CgKK_aluClVd9E=s980" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="676" data-original-width="980" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPv5OboPzW1ssDp-6sPA4RP0RFMYq3JJLrcWBJmHPpX4FBifIl3sLV-ER9dCvizx1JPMl1j4ld06h8HFVN7qNssPs5IU_Vh4rpFq7tPxbqQD_FFAhOmvTRFc6eUXH3sfTyHorqUe-_opwnqcMx8ORjzX3rw4GZGAOX-fRTpXG8Q1CgKK_aluClVd9E=w400-h276" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They also went to a schoolfriend's birthday party at a place called <a href="https://goape.co.uk/">"Go Ape."</a> It's a sort of daredevil outdoor activity centre involving zipwires high up in the trees. Boy Twin, who swarms up trees as easily as an ape at the best of times, absolutely loved it. Girl Twin was the opposite: "My hands were slipping, I couldn't hold on, I thought I was goanna die'"' she reported. She hadn't actually noticed that she'd been clipped into a harness, she'd been so scared. But she doesn't show her fear readily, and just said she only wanted to be three metres up, and not thirty metres (like Boy Twin was aiming for). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">T and I have also been on a couple of outings, whenever we've been able to get decent weather. Last week we cycled down to the South Bank to see the exhibition of the <a href="https://broderers.co.uk/">Worshipful Company of Broderers. </a>It's one of the City Guilds, (also known as the Brotherhood of the Holy Ghost of the City of London) (great name I think). It originated centuries ago as a union of embroiderers, a highly skilled trade which was, of course, much in demand in the heyday of hand-embroidered clothing for the wealthy, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh49tdkGWqCECWPU-x2b0GxktY1B2iRW68pBw2I-F3gDUJLwGngDNPHQ_yesDM1nDKg5Qrvctr5gtfEmrxUCET78lp7GlWpvfRGjG38TtLi_wW8ad0cgSYBusmW5GT1qy2l0yvs1NbF9ObZzVuTDiec2d3BTWSyywf0wbjMkv8jmv2eciNZ5if8sATa=s2138" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1430" data-original-width="2138" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh49tdkGWqCECWPU-x2b0GxktY1B2iRW68pBw2I-F3gDUJLwGngDNPHQ_yesDM1nDKg5Qrvctr5gtfEmrxUCET78lp7GlWpvfRGjG38TtLi_wW8ad0cgSYBusmW5GT1qy2l0yvs1NbF9ObZzVuTDiec2d3BTWSyywf0wbjMkv8jmv2eciNZ5if8sATa=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am sure the Broiderers had a hand in the gold trim of this fellow's fine outfit, for instance, but, then as now, they did all kinds of work, ranging from delicate flower designs almost too fine to believe, to bold, intricate braiding. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There was some remarkable work at the show, in all kinds of different styles. I think my favourite piece was the one below of night-time London from above. The only bit of flying I like is if I approach a city by plane after dark, and we hover above while the lights spread below. The bright twinkling of this piece against the black velvet reminded me of that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyPdh4f31y1_ouioH3ApbBjf1R3dDcdkuI1H2tSuOZaX7YVuaei9WykFU3Rc9s12KBzINRn0YuwJvDzQLhAzEs-h7nUWCvxCfkzpYd5zr966GBXk-UnViBNYQlhq4nlL5R6hQLN7rhduGFJHHpEee6Wb8Mn1Wi3Q7vQReJjUf9UgnAkzsKBdzLHvY3=s2620" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1955" data-original-width="2620" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyPdh4f31y1_ouioH3ApbBjf1R3dDcdkuI1H2tSuOZaX7YVuaei9WykFU3Rc9s12KBzINRn0YuwJvDzQLhAzEs-h7nUWCvxCfkzpYd5zr966GBXk-UnViBNYQlhq4nlL5R6hQLN7rhduGFJHHpEee6Wb8Mn1Wi3Q7vQReJjUf9UgnAkzsKBdzLHvY3=w640-h478" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Talking of flying, we're going to try and cut down on plane travel. I've noticed several people are doing this now, if they can - but it's a big "IF" because it is still so much cheaper to fly. Since Covid, European train companies have made it easier to change and cancel tickets, and I think prices have gone down a bit too. But they are nothing like comparable to flights. However flights to Montpellier were at extremely inconvenient hours, so it was worth factoring in the cost of train travel to avoid the misery of hanging around airports at 3 AM. The ride city to city in 7 hours, but we decided to spend the first night in Paris. It's silly to just rush through Paris when you haven't seen it for ages. We'll catch a morning train the next day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our other outing was one of our daughter V's gigs, held by candlelight in a fascinating half ruined almshouse chapel in Peckham, SE London. It really was fun. One of our neighbours heard about it too and turned up with his little girl, who is a friend of the twins. Here they are playing with their umbrellas as the rain hammered down after the show. It was only about 6 PM but they were thrilled to be out and about after dark. I remember how big-time it seemed to me when I was a child, too. Even to the grown ups calling back to stop fooling and keep up!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjR1s0gl9eij43wdm4TpCcPNqkVj_RkxZHL2FVJR9bL8NwrY6pY2MkLk_HHmr8Ry2jH-BSG93LZ5hNkDDa3jPGu8N0lxOl6-MX7pQ_9Ryoz-1kXsg5fSdOReFiV-ZMQfoOVV_GJtwxSlscMueUl2SY2sINgNhFfqNi2M3nBwGy7qgNJcQ75JdCob9Cn=s3228" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2252" data-original-width="3228" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjR1s0gl9eij43wdm4TpCcPNqkVj_RkxZHL2FVJR9bL8NwrY6pY2MkLk_HHmr8Ry2jH-BSG93LZ5hNkDDa3jPGu8N0lxOl6-MX7pQ_9Ryoz-1kXsg5fSdOReFiV-ZMQfoOVV_GJtwxSlscMueUl2SY2sINgNhFfqNi2M3nBwGy7qgNJcQ75JdCob9Cn=w640-h446" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Not sure if you want an update on the bathroom. Ah. Since I last wrote, nearly a month ago, there's been no progress on getting it working, other than what T has done on preparation and painting, and, I'm afraid, fixing some messes. The original contractor has now left the job and we're feeling a lot more relaxed. We think and hope it will be possible to get someone more suitable. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div></div><p></p>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-12577726489395699672022-02-08T23:12:00.006+00:002022-02-10T08:46:57.258+00:00Feeling better!<p style="text-align: center;">Hurrah, I'm feeling very nearly back to normal! Well, about 95%. And that is good enough for me. </p><p style="text-align: center;">And it cheered me up a lot to go for a walk with K. We decided to go to the little private nature reserve near us. It is an abandoned communal garden, and a few houses do back onto it, but hardly anyone takes any notice of it. Still, the lawn is mown now and then, huge bushes are occasionally cut back a bit, and rubbish is cleared sometimes, and this creates a situation in which wild creatures and plants can spread themselves out. I really love it. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I was thrilled to see some drifts of snowdrops. Here's one. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnL1Bm7HiKXpcp2g-klXJ5lwr4_dQahHJMQC7xRBsmpNcK_gMtXP6WVbbYmNyyx8oQOIcWOqIKXEV9sjqmSNn8EKBHniWTcN3u8BJYfB1G72tJ0FzIEcPuRd_MKARUiFxGvmQvKax89Uexl7cf_Ve3GXoJ5zEmacrprNWc89R5VrKufQDJesVuMReo=s1438" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="976" data-original-width="1438" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnL1Bm7HiKXpcp2g-klXJ5lwr4_dQahHJMQC7xRBsmpNcK_gMtXP6WVbbYmNyyx8oQOIcWOqIKXEV9sjqmSNn8EKBHniWTcN3u8BJYfB1G72tJ0FzIEcPuRd_MKARUiFxGvmQvKax89Uexl7cf_Ve3GXoJ5zEmacrprNWc89R5VrKufQDJesVuMReo=w640-h434" width="640" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;">And crouching down to look at some seeds, I came face to face with a local cat, which had settled there to look at the many birds.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhto83zu2JK9qhIoiK3V4rOJhN73YykRf5BmB7T_1ARtrGP2KYFEmIUMBEB26kbbhEiAeeCWjAtOHxOhyCfKYduwg9AK2GEN2y78-07z91ndKdMd_3zLl-1Vzy8jktG-ReASaZjg3YOBXnedEZwemV4_yYU1aHYZiXPzNqxkK217uF6QQit31BCpL9n=s1041" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="1041" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhto83zu2JK9qhIoiK3V4rOJhN73YykRf5BmB7T_1ARtrGP2KYFEmIUMBEB26kbbhEiAeeCWjAtOHxOhyCfKYduwg9AK2GEN2y78-07z91ndKdMd_3zLl-1Vzy8jktG-ReASaZjg3YOBXnedEZwemV4_yYU1aHYZiXPzNqxkK217uF6QQit31BCpL9n=w640-h434" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />My main mental exercise while ill has been re-reading as many of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacqueline_Wilson">Jacqueline Wilson</a>'s old teenage novels as I could find. Wilson is a big name in British children's fiction, both for the "Tracy Beaker" TV series and also for scores of junior-age books about girls in challenging situations. But I was specially interested in reading the teenage ones, which are long out of print. I did remember how these particular ones swept my daughters (and me) along in the most remarkable way, and had intended for a while to look them out. And I'm glad to say that, although they are now dated in parts, they were every bit as readable and compelling as I remembered. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">So far I've re-read "Dream Palace" about a girl who helps her mum and well-meaning step-dad to run a dingy hotel in a seaside resort. She is enchanted by a superficially glamorous but very disturbing character squatting in an abandoned hotel, who seems to be everything she has ever wanted....and is so very kind to her. The book was so full of menacing possibilities that I simply couldn't put it down, specially when poor old stepdad got involved - it was surprisingly shocking.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">In "The Power of the Shade", a girl living a drab life with her grandmother has a cruel and insecure "best" friend who convinces her she is a witch with power to cast a spell on the teacher she has a crush on. As an adult, you could ask yourself how a sensible girl could get into that situation, but Wilson pulls her readers totally inside that teenage world and showed exactly how it could happen. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieRocx-A8khNIjrkb5W-DBn1a3CAPr3u3-dIUrHOoITbKEkj39637lFzIZ3G5pD7EuIA2cc-nxBmxEuqWBzbAOZ8axTYlZO3Wpv_FYWzBOqlsAWWSfSrp_G--CbSA3d6M6jvRsXFdyCUWpaHB9P0bXAS11Zutsas6GsXD_V31ro_FYn7rnuuG1AyZm=s3654" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3654" data-original-width="2408" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieRocx-A8khNIjrkb5W-DBn1a3CAPr3u3-dIUrHOoITbKEkj39637lFzIZ3G5pD7EuIA2cc-nxBmxEuqWBzbAOZ8axTYlZO3Wpv_FYWzBOqlsAWWSfSrp_G--CbSA3d6M6jvRsXFdyCUWpaHB9P0bXAS11Zutsas6GsXD_V31ro_FYn7rnuuG1AyZm=w422-h640" width="422" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And in "Deep Blue" which I am reading now, the main character is trying to assuage her guilt at defying her devoted but domineering father. She finds herself with a hopelessly unsatisfactory boyfriend, there's nobody at school she really wants to be friends with, and she has lost the competitive diving which has occupied all her spare time for years. So she decides that her body is the real problem, and one which she certainly <i>can </i>deal with, by simply not eating. I haven't finished it yet and am wondering how she'll turn the situation around. I'm sure she will find a way, though. One of the nice things about books for teenagers is that they are generally end well and leave you feeling that difficult situations can usually be coped with. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Talking of which, here's a catch up on the bathroom situation for you. WELL, the replacement bath is not available after all even though it was said to be in stock! Managed to find another bath that is said to be in stock and able to be delivered in five days. WOW! Except that it costs twice as much as the one we bought in October. Better bath, mind you. So we are buying. Inflation is set to rise to 7% by April, so if we wait too long we won't just have an unfinished bathroom, but it will cost us more too. Most of all, a bath in the hand is definitely worth two on a container ship stuck for the next few months outside Felixstowe! <span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">T. has been continuing with his painting and it is very heartening to see all that beautiful white gloss going on. He has taken to buying paint for professional decorators. It is a bit harder to use, but he does prepare the surfaces well and it looks a treat when it finally does dry. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I did my bit by clearing out some cupboards - including some of those that he is painting. I found this mug which I really should use. I love the way it looks, but the dog's head serves as the handle and I don't feel secure holding a large mug of hot liquid by a dog's nose. I keep imagining my fingers slipping and the mug tipping sideways..... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2w6VH-PQPTJMFRu72Y4_KZqbyUKEwBNPygDS3LjhRKO0NG_muFxtvA6uUQRgmzntrqxO8KZtvqZ63MGe1nwPse95PpcHeUNKlwX9fHlWQq9K7cNL8ll_k3uTHusZAwjYhQ6xpbIiaI3Ai4BD9GVU60C6V8oYhPrpK7iK06ztw_rhln6hknm79-8Wn=s2694" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2694" data-original-width="2340" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2w6VH-PQPTJMFRu72Y4_KZqbyUKEwBNPygDS3LjhRKO0NG_muFxtvA6uUQRgmzntrqxO8KZtvqZ63MGe1nwPse95PpcHeUNKlwX9fHlWQq9K7cNL8ll_k3uTHusZAwjYhQ6xpbIiaI3Ai4BD9GVU60C6V8oYhPrpK7iK06ztw_rhln6hknm79-8Wn=w348-h400" width="348" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But I can't keep it in the cupboard forever, so I've decided I'm going to use it as a vase. Next time I buy some daffodils I'll see how they look. And, if remember, I will take a photo and post it here. </div></div><div><br style="text-align: left;" /></div></div><div></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-72295208067068489512022-02-04T16:03:00.011+00:002022-02-05T14:31:19.755+00:00Covid, Construction, Consternation.<p style="text-align: center;">I've tried to avoid talking about Covid (well, someone's got to avoid it, right?) but if I'm going to stick to my plan to post more, I have to mention that T and I have both tested positive. I got sick before him, and I'm now out of quarantine, but still not feeling that great. My doctor said I'd probably continue to feel tired for a while. </p><p style="text-align: center;">We were right in the midst of a bathroom renovation when Covid struck. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_hkd_XC-qk58lLUv0tONWpnUI2MeHi8YaXTz_Wc3YkW3kSHH6010QA7aplwqKUW3Z6MJX_HQG1tnuxB9vfO7OkTyzIMCx_PRIjyQin1cSUVFTPzdvAAhtcnbt1UIXScHbJ8OFEJO-0VuZ5KtMWqf3FVVpe_Enoe0VOW57adX5VkvwsjcgVQpgVF_K=s4000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_hkd_XC-qk58lLUv0tONWpnUI2MeHi8YaXTz_Wc3YkW3kSHH6010QA7aplwqKUW3Z6MJX_HQG1tnuxB9vfO7OkTyzIMCx_PRIjyQin1cSUVFTPzdvAAhtcnbt1UIXScHbJ8OFEJO-0VuZ5KtMWqf3FVVpe_Enoe0VOW57adX5VkvwsjcgVQpgVF_K=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sooooo.... bathroom sink, tiles and WC have been removed, the builder also has Covid and we have learned the hard way that building supplies are running out and shooting up in price in Britain, and so many European workmen have left London that it's very hard to find people to do any building work at all. </div><p style="text-align: center;">On the bright side, we still have a bath, which you see in the picture above. What's more, it's plumbed in! It's good that we have a sink (we're re-using the old one, which we really like) and we have nice new tiles ready to be fixed. After several attempts at buying a toilet pan and fixings, we now have one waiting to be put in. </p><p style="text-align: center;">On the dark side, this bathtub is damaged, and will need to be returned. and T's been running around trying to source another. It took him approximately five hours of work to locate and pay for a suitable one. It's not funny for Britain's customers, tradesmen or salesmen, this combination of Covid, Brexit, worldwide rising energy prices, rapidly increasing inflation and a government in disarray. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Perhaps T. finds it helpful to have spent part of his youth living in Africa during a civil war. I hasten to add that he was not in a dangerous area of the country, but he knows all about spending time and hard work on trying to source perfectly ordinary stuff which then doesn't turn up, or is poor quality, or broken. So we're both trying to take the view that life is too short to worry about the perfect bathroom, and T has been really quite enjoying himself painting all the bathroom paintwork (since the painter went AWOL, to the builder's consternation.) I'm focusing on keeping the dust down and the place as tidy as possible with building supplies everywhere. I haven't had the energy to do much that's creative, though apart from scanning old negatives. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I had a big box of these and borrowed a scanner, so have been working my way through them. It's absolutely fascinating to me to look through my old life. Probably not so fascinating to you, though, so I'll just show you this one photo, of dear little V. aged nearly two, riding on a Chiquita banana on wheels, a gift from an aunt in America. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDvWqPy72XZk_gq3j_h9dYqpusn5m9yA8kQsjuTFELyWHoZqYTjC5JDQ6n1xjqsxUOw_HQvSgBNudeorR9b5Rd3CsYIUVfVqV33dBjaB6GuCgtjiIzetBqBExxkD2sEQuoXKrsSh2LMuYUbVA-vLt5Q4QG-Ai-AKvrbA8TWkLDSrUl2oXvTtKBmtz3=s3618" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3618" data-original-width="2472" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDvWqPy72XZk_gq3j_h9dYqpusn5m9yA8kQsjuTFELyWHoZqYTjC5JDQ6n1xjqsxUOw_HQvSgBNudeorR9b5Rd3CsYIUVfVqV33dBjaB6GuCgtjiIzetBqBExxkD2sEQuoXKrsSh2LMuYUbVA-vLt5Q4QG-Ai-AKvrbA8TWkLDSrUl2oXvTtKBmtz3=w274-h400" width="274" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">We were living in North Staffordshire, and it's nice to see these images which have been forgotten for so long. They were taken in our first home, which we spent a lot of time repairing and doing up. Seeing it again, I'd <i>still </i>like to live there. It was an Art Deco masterpiece, built by a master builder for himself in the 1930s, with stained glass, mother of pearl, oak, mosaics and terrazzo. This was not fashionable at the time, and after we sold the house to return to London, I asked the purchaser to preserve that fireplace with its gold and eau-de-nil mosaics. It was a bit cheeky of me, but I hope they did keep it, and I hope it's still there. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Sorry for the awful quality of the image, but it is taken on some weird old film stock which has deteriorated badly. . </p><p style="text-align: center;">Other than this, I am slowly reading through and commenting on your posts. And the new bath is arriving, supposedly, in 2 weeks time. The suppliers promise to keep us updated, but are so worried that it won't arrive that they've offered us a refund if they can't get hold of it. Fingers crossed. Whatever, I suspect we will be using the upstairs shower and WC for a while yet. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> </p>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-17070260258464038392022-01-19T19:01:00.005+00:002022-01-20T15:56:22.058+00:00Happy 2022!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I really appreciate the concern of those kind people who have asked if I am OK. I haven't written for ages, but I've been okay. The main reason for my silence was not getting to grips with the problem about Blogger followers. Remember last year you were supposed to migrate all your followers to some other system? I found some instructions on how to do it and migrated my followers onto a notebook file. After that I wasn't sure what to do with the file I'd created. I meant to check but life was busy and there was never time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I have now forgotten whatever it was I was supposed to do, so I'm going to put another post on hoping it will still work well enough to at least reach the people who were reading it before, even if I don't get any new followers. But I'm not sure if that will happen. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Assuming you're still reading, though, I'm going to f<a href="https://themarmeladegypsy.blogspot.com/2022/01/2021-in-pictures.html">ollow the example of fellow blogger Jeanie Croope</a> and post a photo or two for every month or season of the last year. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> So. starting in<b> January</b> 2021, here are pictures taken one frosty, sunny day when we decided to walk up to the heath. On the way we passed a cabman's shelter basking in the winter sun. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEif0L4lQ1b_45leby9dUOtj-LCPEKC_s8vdGmcQIYF009LieGBSlre4juPEHxlQ1kDClWJgPNyux2KN6zjELH3yCIMCB_G4hx7of4Fzw29-_NTVOH28PhAIR_nI6jIMh4kPbQY6RtM47Ua4xXxc_muVANGo348HQOcvdjMJqUX6YblCUNiADO0PtDtF=s1563" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1164" data-original-width="1563" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEif0L4lQ1b_45leby9dUOtj-LCPEKC_s8vdGmcQIYF009LieGBSlre4juPEHxlQ1kDClWJgPNyux2KN6zjELH3yCIMCB_G4hx7of4Fzw29-_NTVOH28PhAIR_nI6jIMh4kPbQY6RtM47Ua4xXxc_muVANGo348HQOcvdjMJqUX6YblCUNiADO0PtDtF=w400-h297" width="400" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These shelters are usually humble little sheds by taxi ranks, serving tea, coffee, bacon sandwiches, etc. I'm not a cab-driver, but I bought a really excellent scone to nibble on our walk. Looking down, I couldn't help admiring the beautiful mosaic floor. Dated 1935, it wasn't the sort of floor you generally find in a shack. A nice bit of Cubism, and professionally done.. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0GJddM18Yq83dIqFxsIPKfHCmXTRXsCKGCO82KVwVGwvRX217QTNy7Jxs4jT-PNv6GxHY0B3H3zLWzmu9Ybc-a5UZbYgMLXQgRw7MunRYx33NBKp1xVlVkRBKpwGG8ESktfda9DugQ39EbEoOqx0xeaDC2mdIMHcgop44_LVmbGjJCQHI8SXAlxhB=s2615" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2615" data-original-width="2220" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0GJddM18Yq83dIqFxsIPKfHCmXTRXsCKGCO82KVwVGwvRX217QTNy7Jxs4jT-PNv6GxHY0B3H3zLWzmu9Ybc-a5UZbYgMLXQgRw7MunRYx33NBKp1xVlVkRBKpwGG8ESktfda9DugQ39EbEoOqx0xeaDC2mdIMHcgop44_LVmbGjJCQHI8SXAlxhB=w544-h640" width="544" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> On further investigation I found that despite appearances, the shelter isn't just a shack. In fact, it was designed by Elisabeth Scott, the architect of the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre in Stratford on Avon. I found a photo of this famous theatre shortly after its completion in the 1930s - it's not really my cup of tea, I'm afraid. But the useful unpretentious cab shelter got my vote. It's just what you want to find on a walk. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRk8NXU8kVNWiXnYhs71hU3tvAS8MFl2JmgJPzrTQj6ZINIISkWuTaUfkQ05QQSDsdXO6fvDLMHgZhbHMCpMDzRul4XWGSISGwczrtRhnDFjQYViM0kPjWFG4DjbeLqBRn_G80_5P6J1ysnCrW4pkRO6wxlgb4ZhqClgHai0GpsArzrrmvHxm4TDxH=s285" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="177" data-original-width="285" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRk8NXU8kVNWiXnYhs71hU3tvAS8MFl2JmgJPzrTQj6ZINIISkWuTaUfkQ05QQSDsdXO6fvDLMHgZhbHMCpMDzRul4XWGSISGwczrtRhnDFjQYViM0kPjWFG4DjbeLqBRn_G80_5P6J1ysnCrW4pkRO6wxlgb4ZhqClgHai0GpsArzrrmvHxm4TDxH=w400-h249" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In <b>February</b> we were still in lockdown, and London was eerily empty, a bit creepy, actually. It was, though, interesting to experience the feeling of a deserted London for what must be the first time in about 1,500 years. One dark and gloomy afternoon I went with a ramble with my daughter V. down some of the hidden side streets near Covent Garden. They are still proper working streets but during lockdown, some felt more like movie sets - the bow-windowed little shops, the big unlit gas-lamp, the empty passageway leading who knows where? (And I like the defiant slogan stencilled on the wall, too, saying EAT THE RICH.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No signs of life, except for Hedwig looking out of the window. And I think even Hedwig was stuffed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEin8Xjg36-SWid2tYqpmXXBdbBpfvXh9dlxF6NjIw8NEE_Thi3QocioZ9im35sH0WTfYcKr4Vn4izSnR6uUSprcLwbIB2qCHXXurRVA52y5PsoLl9D74IToCt5rw4QZE5LlxxGCbDB8hDCVb7gBOVVOJr05LJUBREPOefJ77CMYrSV7PAaOqR52BoMr=s4000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEin8Xjg36-SWid2tYqpmXXBdbBpfvXh9dlxF6NjIw8NEE_Thi3QocioZ9im35sH0WTfYcKr4Vn4izSnR6uUSprcLwbIB2qCHXXurRVA52y5PsoLl9D74IToCt5rw4QZE5LlxxGCbDB8hDCVb7gBOVVOJr05LJUBREPOefJ77CMYrSV7PAaOqR52BoMr=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But it wasn't all dark. February is a birthday month in our family and the twins were really thrilled to be seven. They each designed, decorated and helped to mix their own cakes, and really enjoyed their party. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3TQUbWvLqGKAkDsQ5oPDZUXFwm8q1DuMYSCVVywXccFbasDqLGz8t5JaXmzbjdZ4PguzhsVD83Wpa1U8KOm--CEwAyBd9aTFFXcCVuKbncUNreb1qfb6fWpdVgqRh2NPluyxj4dsVM-FU-jAQrSjN7gXfObYkc-kxiR7wIkUUtNsvY2rrhDyF1kZ9=s788" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="542" data-original-width="788" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3TQUbWvLqGKAkDsQ5oPDZUXFwm8q1DuMYSCVVywXccFbasDqLGz8t5JaXmzbjdZ4PguzhsVD83Wpa1U8KOm--CEwAyBd9aTFFXcCVuKbncUNreb1qfb6fWpdVgqRh2NPluyxj4dsVM-FU-jAQrSjN7gXfObYkc-kxiR7wIkUUtNsvY2rrhDyF1kZ9=w400-h275" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjncOOde9Q4bJwxuv1ysjfOLapcPhm87fzb2N_a34YewdJCwJVEyUktCBi4OWIA0NHOSGOcVFgAmS06YS5ZKjzAWjnRMYQ3nZN2tjFamaquFi92FkjfZ34jM2rsDO5gWw3-sdAH_vYmZgSQi_p-AQ_P7tV2o196V4kVTkPoPLejpv8L93GlaUtPgpAE=s906" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="684" data-original-width="906" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjncOOde9Q4bJwxuv1ysjfOLapcPhm87fzb2N_a34YewdJCwJVEyUktCBi4OWIA0NHOSGOcVFgAmS06YS5ZKjzAWjnRMYQ3nZN2tjFamaquFi92FkjfZ34jM2rsDO5gWw3-sdAH_vYmZgSQi_p-AQ_P7tV2o196V4kVTkPoPLejpv8L93GlaUtPgpAE=w400-h303" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> The party was attended by about 30 of their soft toys, since school was closed, and their real live friends were not allowed to come over. (I thought perhaps the toys were not quite as good as real guests, but they were puzzled at this idea. No, they said, the toys were really great! ) Afterwards they packed up bits of cake and went on a long walk around their human friends' houses delivering the cake packages at their front doors and waving at them through windows. Children adapt very quickly to the strangest circumstances. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiCxYSNIXvBT-pa4H24NPsknP6746uLOTO5XlHhPMJvXpuVlnnmWWLEH7epz2KZRBp0faD3Ggz6gnzbXtl6ULBsDcNIZ_r3K0e2YYdoqMQXNAGpgziEa9V8GReokka6U024MfIc2dSqQrtOeOpxLv7vG7UTP-fJT1TfO7YZIW6YQ9MldMVKK_mB_9x=s2120" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1748" data-original-width="2120" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiCxYSNIXvBT-pa4H24NPsknP6746uLOTO5XlHhPMJvXpuVlnnmWWLEH7epz2KZRBp0faD3Ggz6gnzbXtl6ULBsDcNIZ_r3K0e2YYdoqMQXNAGpgziEa9V8GReokka6U024MfIc2dSqQrtOeOpxLv7vG7UTP-fJT1TfO7YZIW6YQ9MldMVKK_mB_9x=w640-h528" width="640" /></a></div><br />Sometimes we met up with family or friends in central locations, always outdoors, and had some good walks. The staff in the few open shops we passed were always working alone, and had very little to do. I noticed how some of them would even leap forward hopefully as you passed the door, just in case you were going to come in and talk to them. They reminded me of tied-up dogs waiting outside shops for their owners to come back. One day I felt so sorry for a woman serving in a French patissier's that I went in and bought a charcoal baguette just to give her something to do. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's a photo, below. It tasted just like a normal French baguette but looked so striking that I planned to buy another couple if we ever had guests over again for a meal. How good it would look with a really colourful soup. (Sadly, when I returned a few months later, the shop had stopped selling charcoal baguettes so I never got to try that idea. ) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicO5ONn12SKb8hczno6UfJMbyUq1RHRxbA-ElxIuxIS7TQ9ydFouVWJdZPO3cFVwHevpx88LgCV9RVel12v365LdPHiMjrMyRnDbup4CET2pftGpgSf9cQNBDje-2Gd0lCBUYo9O_jqCDv7KKflf_3TTYPt2ppjgj5FR9i9P8qgecw_xx4q8vmgqsQ=s2916" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1677" data-original-width="2916" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEicO5ONn12SKb8hczno6UfJMbyUq1RHRxbA-ElxIuxIS7TQ9ydFouVWJdZPO3cFVwHevpx88LgCV9RVel12v365LdPHiMjrMyRnDbup4CET2pftGpgSf9cQNBDje-2Gd0lCBUYo9O_jqCDv7KKflf_3TTYPt2ppjgj5FR9i9P8qgecw_xx4q8vmgqsQ=w640-h368" width="640" /></a></div><br />By <b>March</b>, the pots of spring bulbs were well out ...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHABAZHEl_aIYdSx6mQwixKSYoQgnIlPMqz_mndDgezkYjpgE1mntjSzPwfe1ZI8XMY_UmIIh3y7gZHMNDXMiED7XdHz9VUxZ5ZJYF9NR7VpCAG3QWuKOlgbplm3s3QOhPXKhnEAwaGwvxGyMkOpS5uAPTQJVH0lpwGfduDLAFtosJ5DKl87l7X--p=s2103" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1941" data-original-width="2103" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHABAZHEl_aIYdSx6mQwixKSYoQgnIlPMqz_mndDgezkYjpgE1mntjSzPwfe1ZI8XMY_UmIIh3y7gZHMNDXMiED7XdHz9VUxZ5ZJYF9NR7VpCAG3QWuKOlgbplm3s3QOhPXKhnEAwaGwvxGyMkOpS5uAPTQJVH0lpwGfduDLAFtosJ5DKl87l7X--p=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>... and early blossom trees bloomed in the parks. We'd had our first vaccinations by now, and lockdown was less strict. You could go into quite a few types of shops now, if you wanted. <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhl998MWlanR1BBEfPr8-fdMCTS8PlTRngwG0NgKC4RWeSDUceJKxPqsrCCQ-L8QPQfe6RK80f7FD2GNAKRVOJ_BjlelztO_y2k1e-MjwLeRk02waTPaCl4-WN9rSNFDQ9YzUCNhZJ1f-gRXb6714bcLaBJan9GOllfZGZBEVpQLYoKCOfCDqwoADfa=s3786" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3786" data-original-width="2970" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhl998MWlanR1BBEfPr8-fdMCTS8PlTRngwG0NgKC4RWeSDUceJKxPqsrCCQ-L8QPQfe6RK80f7FD2GNAKRVOJ_BjlelztO_y2k1e-MjwLeRk02waTPaCl4-WN9rSNFDQ9YzUCNhZJ1f-gRXb6714bcLaBJan9GOllfZGZBEVpQLYoKCOfCDqwoADfa=w502-h640" width="502" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So we ventured further afield, and it was really exciting. Going the 70 miles to Hungerford, in West Berkshire, seemed almost as much of a thrill as Thailand would have been the previous year! The picture below shows The Marsh, a nature reserve just outside Hungerford. I loved the effect of last year's bleached reeds against the vivid white display of blackthorn in the hedge. The blackthorn bush gets its name because the pure blossoms emerge long before the leaves, and look striking against the black thorny branches. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwiP6MJJLmbG8H65GGZiacjOcwbYdrCbY6ebVADPxla9RH8ibnlNzsyBhAk0VbTcZBieuGKKr54-iDAbtjZ2sBVsbLfdt2CiIGfDLK51EeAtKO4lsLHmoIz1KiXA7ZaOEEqssySJvxqzYGWmh66GQxOz8MOTps3GYDTAGTD9gz2nDvQg1TE6fJGYSB=s4160" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2340" data-original-width="4160" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwiP6MJJLmbG8H65GGZiacjOcwbYdrCbY6ebVADPxla9RH8ibnlNzsyBhAk0VbTcZBieuGKKr54-iDAbtjZ2sBVsbLfdt2CiIGfDLK51EeAtKO4lsLHmoIz1KiXA7ZaOEEqssySJvxqzYGWmh66GQxOz8MOTps3GYDTAGTD9gz2nDvQg1TE6fJGYSB=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>April</b> began with bitterly cold weather, but one day T and I braved a biting Arctic wind to stroll around Blackfriars and Fleet Street, and we paused to admire the Black Friar pub, one of the nicest Art Nouveau buildings in London. Here are some of the carvings, mosaics and copper work on the outside. In the 1960s, unbelievably, this pub was about to be demolished but a public outcry, led by Sir John Betjeman, saved it for posterity.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKtWdEdKcxOFO_QFE2vtjKHnXdmw-iUFEZkAGOJrnK8Bf1UpB9MGckokBNRrXbb3i0JEUIdKVmdJvERYWPQ2ugqEHf7RrJEq7OukQLrUyRODGOErks9NjOLnOuv94Bp5wJNvezNO_uvRLY9ehrYAedto7EUaHY62R2rZpTpXAtZsNCiBIw1PIgQ1rW=s3790" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2975" data-original-width="3790" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKtWdEdKcxOFO_QFE2vtjKHnXdmw-iUFEZkAGOJrnK8Bf1UpB9MGckokBNRrXbb3i0JEUIdKVmdJvERYWPQ2ugqEHf7RrJEq7OukQLrUyRODGOErks9NjOLnOuv94Bp5wJNvezNO_uvRLY9ehrYAedto7EUaHY62R2rZpTpXAtZsNCiBIw1PIgQ1rW=w640-h502" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Inside the pub is even more striking than the outside. Because of its eccentric layout, it's impossible to photograph the bar properly even when it's open, which it wasn't during our visit. <a href="https://www.alamy.com/england-london-the-city-of-london-the-black-friar-pub-interior-view-with-henry-pooles-art-nouveau-reliefs-image214688102.html">(</a><a href="https://www.bdonline.co.uk/architects-favourite-pubs-the-black-friar-blackfriars-london/5049024.article">This photo</a>, for your interest, gives a very fair idea of part of the main bar, but doesn't even offer a glimpse of the beautiful stained glass windows which show the lives of the monks who lived here hundreds of years ago.) The only way to really appreciate this pub is to come to London and have a drink there. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I first visited the Black Friar when I was barely old enough to go to pubs at all. I was tremendously impressed by the pub cat, a huge portly sociable creature, who sat at the bar with a saucer of beer. It joined in with everything and its party trick was to catch pennies and bask in the applause. A real Falstaff of a cat. I can find no mention of it online, which is a shame - it should be remembered. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Just on the other side of Blackfriars Bridge is the London office of the Wells Fargo company. They keep this lovely coach on the ground floor. It's either real and beautifully beautifully restored, or else an expensive replica. Looking at it, I gave thanks that I never had to bump my way through the Wild West on something like that. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheL16_r7aoGpbGm9P-fA6ravSJt7lqpHx8ok0UDxkM-K2KI5na0-qw-9ZumjF2JBnu8mVWptH_pqKIgPn1kUPh0MZQ49p9mC_LKbwreLJYaiyJ2maL2sHMqU0vare_Nq1TbppkJkUQ9hkjMaYgA86bYiOJdCoUGlQG6SQxYIJ6ykAPgaYYWLIsEe2_=s4000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheL16_r7aoGpbGm9P-fA6ravSJt7lqpHx8ok0UDxkM-K2KI5na0-qw-9ZumjF2JBnu8mVWptH_pqKIgPn1kUPh0MZQ49p9mC_LKbwreLJYaiyJ2maL2sHMqU0vare_Nq1TbppkJkUQ9hkjMaYgA86bYiOJdCoUGlQG6SQxYIJ6ykAPgaYYWLIsEe2_=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In <b>May, l</b>ots was still shut, but we were able to stay for a week near Haslemere in Surrey. Although it is only about 45 miles from Piccadilly Circus, our cottage was as rural as you could wish for and you could walk right out of the gate into unspoiled National Trust countryside. These beautiful cows wandering up the lane are of an uncommon breed called Belted Galloways. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitNefzth9ZlseaPpcOQVqPk1-wqAUKRtsLVp7EX88DFD0cWSyioHbu5BqaeW86k4eOwARXPgH9M7tanBqPAD78cDmbm_FkEfu7wOfO8PgDCK3APbkj_C1RxziQ1qfdZJJpKHUCnri5HOhT1c8KocF6ZFPhb80yfGuEHGnhG5mJOfbAMezs8AC_oEj1=s4060" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2785" data-original-width="4060" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitNefzth9ZlseaPpcOQVqPk1-wqAUKRtsLVp7EX88DFD0cWSyioHbu5BqaeW86k4eOwARXPgH9M7tanBqPAD78cDmbm_FkEfu7wOfO8PgDCK3APbkj_C1RxziQ1qfdZJJpKHUCnri5HOhT1c8KocF6ZFPhb80yfGuEHGnhG5mJOfbAMezs8AC_oEj1=w640-h440" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />We did some hiking, revisiting another cottage where we'd once stayed when V was very young. In those days "Gnome Cottage" was owned by the Youth Hostels Association and was an extremely un-restored old place with a huge old log fire and no running water (except from the stream). We had a great time there all the same. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is now modernised, so the experience of bygone living must have faded for whoever lives there now. I think it might be a ranger, since the area is now protected, and probably it is just as well if he doesn't have to draw his water from the rather muddy little stream and boil it! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNHf1EE1_WvOlQaHoYrSAda6k6fkxA6rGA8vsdFq9BuOu3X4iQDzt-qfHpIcyZR8cv9cegs9thIoLn68bxfXUxAx92ZpVdfLo-a3_SFHviNUau1mIvZiyU6zSJHYbyYTP5CvzVYBuMXafV9v0nG6Awfgs_TR13jVQCv9UZdB61GOlznHYxSqiws1XW=s2716" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2584" data-original-width="2716" height="608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNHf1EE1_WvOlQaHoYrSAda6k6fkxA6rGA8vsdFq9BuOu3X4iQDzt-qfHpIcyZR8cv9cegs9thIoLn68bxfXUxAx92ZpVdfLo-a3_SFHviNUau1mIvZiyU6zSJHYbyYTP5CvzVYBuMXafV9v0nG6Awfgs_TR13jVQCv9UZdB61GOlznHYxSqiws1XW=w640-h608" width="640" /></a></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In <b>June</b> we had a weekend away with daughter K and family, renting the only Airbnb we could get at a reasonable size and price not too far from London. The cost of holiday accommodation in England has skyrocketed so we took what we could get, which luckily turned out to be a nice house in the pleasant market town of Alton, Hampshire. It was within a stroll of this painted lady, who stands in a brick alcove in Alton's High Street. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVWs8tuJB37fZcByxkLut684C7mxxp1HjeaFGrWgm8Guiuaf0p_5uUeFge5r2UZVynak80BMV4AwWuyIhqZe95d1Ub-gKwid9WCd409ohB-qZW6ZFwIkUYeLiVLpK1oxFJqsdRRWtWoE/s1938/IMG_20210625_172143067.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1090" data-original-width="1938" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVWs8tuJB37fZcByxkLut684C7mxxp1HjeaFGrWgm8Guiuaf0p_5uUeFge5r2UZVynak80BMV4AwWuyIhqZe95d1Ub-gKwid9WCd409ohB-qZW6ZFwIkUYeLiVLpK1oxFJqsdRRWtWoE/w640-h360/IMG_20210625_172143067.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>If she looks familiar then yes, it is Jane Austen. She lived only a couple of miles from Alton in the village of Chawton. Her family home still survives, and you can visit it and find out lots about her. I'm sorry to say that none of us are big fans of Jane's writing, and we all felt more inclined to visit Chawton House, a mansion which belonged to her brother Edward. (For Austen fans, this was the original of the "Big House" which she mentions sometimes in her letters.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Brother Edward had been, (extraordinarily), adopted into a posh family called the Knights, and obliged to take their surname as a condition of inheriting the house and estate. There were no direct Knight heirs, and I suppose Edward, who was distantly related, had seemed the most likely lad out of the family's distant cousins. Anyway, it worked out very well for everyone including Jane, for he looked after her and their mother very well with his newfound wealth. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The house itself fared less well than the Austens. By the mid twentieth century it became more than a little run down. Imagine your own home repairs if your house had been neglected for 75 years, and was also absolutely huge. Then imagine the problems if it is listed as of architectural interest so everything needs restoring in an authentic (and wildly expensive) traditional way. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Against all the odds, the present lord of the manor managed to rescue Chawton House and get it repaired. It is now partly a library of women's writing over the ages, and also a lovely place to tour. We enjoyed looking around it and were lucky enough to meet.....<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierT2SMcmPQscIDzW7oS_91x4MAug_TEKKLCMHHLMohjhnkNO4XNmqEo8g-nRJuHZSptsi4Gh4ROikGQHpdNRe3u9fe8JuKxBUywjndOE3qynWE5ZLGhHCNGlh9zl2W2BiJPTp506n-UI/s2048/P2150790+chawton+house.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1698" data-original-width="2048" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierT2SMcmPQscIDzW7oS_91x4MAug_TEKKLCMHHLMohjhnkNO4XNmqEo8g-nRJuHZSptsi4Gh4ROikGQHpdNRe3u9fe8JuKxBUywjndOE3qynWE5ZLGhHCNGlh9zl2W2BiJPTp506n-UI/w640-h530/P2150790+chawton+house.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">....the present Lord's younger brother, Jeremy, who you see below. He was enjoying meeting visitors and taking them around his childhood home. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNeP-6ahYBmA40TXqBhB0L8CY2JYFiviW3B3EQwstzt9nr5i0oTcYXBEZfbXj-BDpry_1jl1qgsfXCpNVXW-cjbMPGqcDPXanQc1iOtkNbyusDBMAlSC-BAl4S8UFVKiGjDkHmmeSZos/s4000/IMG_1650+Jeremy+Knight+owner.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNeP-6ahYBmA40TXqBhB0L8CY2JYFiviW3B3EQwstzt9nr5i0oTcYXBEZfbXj-BDpry_1jl1qgsfXCpNVXW-cjbMPGqcDPXanQc1iOtkNbyusDBMAlSC-BAl4S8UFVKiGjDkHmmeSZos/w640-h480/IMG_1650+Jeremy+Knight+owner.JPG" width="640" /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> A kinder and more unpretentious person than Jeremy you couldn't wish to meet, and he was very nice to the twins who were desperate to play with the afternoon tea on the table in front of him (it was actually knitted out of wool). I found a book by his daughter in the bookstore, and she describes the extraordinary life the family lived in the house when it was literally crumbling about their ears.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Alton struck us as a very nice town. Its parish church is most impressive, and happens to stand on the site of an important Civil War battle. Girl Twin, who has religious leanings, wanted to hear what all the things inside the church were called. Boy Twin was more interested to spot the musket holes in the church's ancient oak front door. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMiFqq_XzT-_Em6JtjfvCUmw6RM_Vsjggw5Pc5wTpMnkz6BcjJDwXiMC1JWpnboeKmORnk_-_hCb4R_feqytk2hIuBeeIlbTSlwi_1eAqR5Ts4z0GGBPmetTQ50ehoekVV7J9dZH56jgI/s4000/IMG_1362+Art+with+musket+holes+in+the+door+of+Alton+church.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMiFqq_XzT-_Em6JtjfvCUmw6RM_Vsjggw5Pc5wTpMnkz6BcjJDwXiMC1JWpnboeKmORnk_-_hCb4R_feqytk2hIuBeeIlbTSlwi_1eAqR5Ts4z0GGBPmetTQ50ehoekVV7J9dZH56jgI/s320/IMG_1362+Art+with+musket+holes+in+the+door+of+Alton+church.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We also enjoyed visiting <a href="https://gilbertwhiteshouse.org.uk/">Gilbert White's House</a> nearby. A great early naturalist, White wrote a "Natural History of Selbourne" and part of his house's extensive gardens and grounds are laid out according to his own designs and using plants of his choice. A working replica of the "hide" he invented for observing wildlife proved to be irresistible for anyone under 10. It is constructed out of a huge beer barrel, it revolves in complete circles, and is thatched. The local birds and animals noticed nothing unusual about it, apparently, but the twins really loved revolving in it and it was hard to drag them away. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghUMe2aAGBiZ-JwT0mtQM3LO2BzGqz4Dq_nvW8k2b586F0OjXoIvMgH0ySGM5ODJyNnLWl8zBhyphenhyphenR_CbLu3sZ_DcjIAe0E-39GXr1EKMhRwGLDKhiaChnccS_lbZnqQa6VFgjKuJDwi_6Q/s2048/Img_1542+gilbert+whites+hide.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghUMe2aAGBiZ-JwT0mtQM3LO2BzGqz4Dq_nvW8k2b586F0OjXoIvMgH0ySGM5ODJyNnLWl8zBhyphenhyphenR_CbLu3sZ_DcjIAe0E-39GXr1EKMhRwGLDKhiaChnccS_lbZnqQa6VFgjKuJDwi_6Q/w640-h480/Img_1542+gilbert+whites+hide.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>June </b>was a nice month. Life began to feel a bit more normal still, and we had a memorable walk with our other daughter and husband around the Kent village of Trottiscliffe (pronounced "Trosley"). Our path took us by alpaca fields - the alpacas had clearly just been shorn. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ohntqCb1CrG4n4pXomJ2W-AtilbaaD28WgUw3pHak9-qtWllPJhkQ3EEqntSxEhl8sSnKmAbTq0h0YvYTtCzAKcJzhvnzOJeEleEApo891E8EttQ_rEy_PTQXfDQJFugbMVN95nvuow/s1734/P2160567+alpacas.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1593" data-original-width="1734" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ohntqCb1CrG4n4pXomJ2W-AtilbaaD28WgUw3pHak9-qtWllPJhkQ3EEqntSxEhl8sSnKmAbTq0h0YvYTtCzAKcJzhvnzOJeEleEApo891E8EttQ_rEy_PTQXfDQJFugbMVN95nvuow/s320/P2160567+alpacas.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There was an ancient prehistoric grave complex marked by huge stones, and a fairy tree. We occasionally come across these in out-of-the-way places. They are trees on which people focus their spiritual feelings, tying ribbons and prayers on it. The site is very peaceful, far from busy roads, reached only by footpath and with views over the surrounding countryside. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVccMo9EniW7KYysIe2Cjouwdfi5aKVGC7uIPgyeY59B64FwiUkMBQYSU8r8_D0rHQ7wVJsPwj7knONPvFfUsElEKvPcunrXrIkQFF-c05-VRZ8Lw-jrWw9GZBWA0uOAfviH9Q6xYMOk/s2048/fairy+tree+coldrum+long+barrow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1307" data-original-width="2048" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVccMo9EniW7KYysIe2Cjouwdfi5aKVGC7uIPgyeY59B64FwiUkMBQYSU8r8_D0rHQ7wVJsPwj7knONPvFfUsElEKvPcunrXrIkQFF-c05-VRZ8Lw-jrWw9GZBWA0uOAfviH9Q6xYMOk/w640-h408/fairy+tree+coldrum+long+barrow.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In <b>July</b> we took a short cycle trip to Wiltshire, just west of Marlborough. We stayed in a garden building which had been an artist's studio next to a rambling thatched cottage. The friendly owner had had a gypsy caravan in the orchard, beautifully painted up all over the inside by her friend (sadly I couldn't get a good picture) but on taking a close look we decided we preferred the garden building. I don't know how whole families ever lived in those horse drawn caravans because they are extremely tiny! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCGDItPUYyZu8sXph_qNWU63ivbKTtr6QzlZnpfnYag9QxR_U_vI3x4nD0Z6rotp90rd3HX9m9StTMWzUMon9A2r-S98mfeK-MARmoJGH3qIxiP8CNoMs7-5DGkqwpfn6RqvcwXB3-Bdw/s924/caravan+in+lockeridge.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="520" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCGDItPUYyZu8sXph_qNWU63ivbKTtr6QzlZnpfnYag9QxR_U_vI3x4nD0Z6rotp90rd3HX9m9StTMWzUMon9A2r-S98mfeK-MARmoJGH3qIxiP8CNoMs7-5DGkqwpfn6RqvcwXB3-Bdw/w360-h640/caravan+in+lockeridge.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We also enjoyed some walks around the local village, Lockeridge, which is a good place for "sarsen stones". These are the kind of stones used to build nearby Stonehenge and Avebury, but not as large as the obviously very special ones at the temples. They are lying about all over the place, and can also be found on nearby Fyfield Down which we cycled over one day on the way to the henge in Avebury. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_r01la9J0jq8NQqrxQyFUfA2LBrUe7A_h1UZaeyxbMs5Wqi2gfUuTXIMi4mcMyzc7dmdikfpGdTxtOn-oWtCwBIVgECL8DGR0W5NHOnLBsPjE6vInKq1Zt8MK5OWQKgstGZ8ei6p1lPANacjOi3jrLUg7wTfUYWeWmR2kdQiOGhhlIoRzaWsWKJaz=s3375" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2630" data-original-width="3375" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_r01la9J0jq8NQqrxQyFUfA2LBrUe7A_h1UZaeyxbMs5Wqi2gfUuTXIMi4mcMyzc7dmdikfpGdTxtOn-oWtCwBIVgECL8DGR0W5NHOnLBsPjE6vInKq1Zt8MK5OWQKgstGZ8ei6p1lPANacjOi3jrLUg7wTfUYWeWmR2kdQiOGhhlIoRzaWsWKJaz=w640-h498" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We were also intrigued by the pub sign in Lockeridge called "Who'd A Thought It" I'd like to know story that the sign refers to - does anyone know? We weren't going into pubs at the time so couldn't have a pint there and ask the landlord. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQFKpfYQ5cWhzDv76PgSc37RwZQ4mGQ6zTvMjTRyxnqXCIDT9w2Mfj53UwiUQYrjNXx0r-V5f1RHkpExkOzwuT3w7CVsxJ5IYahBbBUqZiTR8fzjxE1rM0ht3MW7zZnSbs8RzLTijra2Er3gBpJ8JoJqVso-qjAeF4LS_PB_2NpmRPiPpXzKXGyCdj=s4000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQFKpfYQ5cWhzDv76PgSc37RwZQ4mGQ6zTvMjTRyxnqXCIDT9w2Mfj53UwiUQYrjNXx0r-V5f1RHkpExkOzwuT3w7CVsxJ5IYahBbBUqZiTR8fzjxE1rM0ht3MW7zZnSbs8RzLTijra2Er3gBpJ8JoJqVso-qjAeF4LS_PB_2NpmRPiPpXzKXGyCdj=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> In <b>August</b>, we drove up to Yorkshire to see an old friend of mine, plus a very old friend of Tony's, and my niece, all of whom live in different bits of this large county. There's such a lot to see in Yorkshire that it is hard to choose what to mention. I think I was most impressed by Yorkshire Sculpture Park, which I had not been sure I would even like. It is mostly outdoors in the parkland of Bretton Hall, an 18th century house which is now in public use, Its rolling acres and landscaped vistas offer space and context for a variety of huge sculptures, so many of them very compelling. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">There were many fantastic Henry Moores and some dazzling sculptures from Portugal. Below is a view of "Valkyrie Marina Rinaldi" from a big temporary exhibition by the very interesting artist Joana Vasconcelos, (click <a href="file:///C:/Users/ja/Downloads/press-release-joana-vasconcelos-final.pdf">here</a> if you'd like to know more her and her work.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7W2qxglAN2C-hemGTYVj_OgOePJ-XlrPA1ApoEILXQpYuikj3Ze4SzgNtsv1OOoq0KvnubInx3qeaO6rxhSmJG4X99_zUu4_Uq1X7OXp_vyf2k1jQ44JmEBFrcxA7sRSrL8YLpUG0-A6HDXqN_8NOCkFdtpUOyFzREhpGLXnT7iIE2IQDN1uzGS-j=s4000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7W2qxglAN2C-hemGTYVj_OgOePJ-XlrPA1ApoEILXQpYuikj3Ze4SzgNtsv1OOoq0KvnubInx3qeaO6rxhSmJG4X99_zUu4_Uq1X7OXp_vyf2k1jQ44JmEBFrcxA7sRSrL8YLpUG0-A6HDXqN_8NOCkFdtpUOyFzREhpGLXnT7iIE2IQDN1uzGS-j=w480-h640" width="480" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>The sculpture that interested me most was a set of animal heads by Ai Wei Wei, the Chinese artist. He has a knack of creating objects which seem to convey all sorts of different ideas. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpotluoTlrUelE1quLLpb3Bv2Ui8VOkLyusXLvWbvfJNyUAEqZ2tHtlWuoPnE-JTfnvy3hdel5_kvAdxT_VRCZvlNGT01YJD7MFU63jhK_NdTGx12Ra5IkMI2o1l7hpBhjIBdMByHUaa5tKNxiK-lYgXmXThvByg3WEM_0JpFN5SfNAf3pHEhgdWaq=s2896" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2520" data-original-width="2896" height="556" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpotluoTlrUelE1quLLpb3Bv2Ui8VOkLyusXLvWbvfJNyUAEqZ2tHtlWuoPnE-JTfnvy3hdel5_kvAdxT_VRCZvlNGT01YJD7MFU63jhK_NdTGx12Ra5IkMI2o1l7hpBhjIBdMByHUaa5tKNxiK-lYgXmXThvByg3WEM_0JpFN5SfNAf3pHEhgdWaq=w640-h556" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">These are four of 12 animal heads, each on a trunk which is a little larger than the average adult. To the Chinese people these animal sculptures are apparently a symbol of Chinese oppression by the West. They are replicas of a set of heads created in 1750 by Europeans at the court of Emperor Quianlong and the originals were looted long ago. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I was struck by how weird it was to see each head the same size, no matter how big the animal. That smooth, timid rabbit head could never consume enough to maintain a body the size of the bear next to it. It's born to be prey. The mouse is even more helpless looking. The bear, by contrast, would be a fierce carnivore no matter what its size - it's impossible to imagine it peacefully nibbling grass. And the Chinese Dragon, a fantasy creature, is most impressive of all, being a creature of imagination. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiI3Zawwe1odsOZtUVv3BnusmsacMF0Qz28aUeTCy7FVMk_gfO_KLBDMli1wosPsq2IahD945C_J2gC3EcJZ8EUG0m6EFkG30FcWgW84w7WhMuWsU5udAtTWtqtgclJ_1ndNP_nu1OBJGqPrVs0l3f0Par6xAnLCgQURxMzl_JFfIlfCeS7CIfR9sHk=s2592" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2408" data-original-width="2592" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiI3Zawwe1odsOZtUVv3BnusmsacMF0Qz28aUeTCy7FVMk_gfO_KLBDMli1wosPsq2IahD945C_J2gC3EcJZ8EUG0m6EFkG30FcWgW84w7WhMuWsU5udAtTWtqtgclJ_1ndNP_nu1OBJGqPrVs0l3f0Par6xAnLCgQURxMzl_JFfIlfCeS7CIfR9sHk=w400-h371" width="400" /></a></div><div><br />When <b>September</b> arrived, we headed up to Suffolk to see our field, see our friends and see what was new. We manage to visit two or three times a year and I am always happy to see those big skies and open fields of East Anglia, which were then looking very golden. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTt4fyI45tNuEpytQ-tdKW2qnnj6AngV04aTn-PiF5zDnueePfnlhyXVaLepSQfIieRV100Vh0joFeBDm8wnRkSSK0Pu7oC8htDi9GUYVEf3pYJyKWYUitByKzWaPfXxhWnsWicDZuNYJURcfCuXeFmXOsG5QNE-8BYUqYoIIyNsKOi6y8peklZj5k=s904" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="508" data-original-width="904" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTt4fyI45tNuEpytQ-tdKW2qnnj6AngV04aTn-PiF5zDnueePfnlhyXVaLepSQfIieRV100Vh0joFeBDm8wnRkSSK0Pu7oC8htDi9GUYVEf3pYJyKWYUitByKzWaPfXxhWnsWicDZuNYJURcfCuXeFmXOsG5QNE-8BYUqYoIIyNsKOi6y8peklZj5k=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">One of the things I like about the area are its interesting churches. So many of them are full of curious and beautiful old woodwork, needlework or other crafts. Here are some baffling old pew ends at Earl Stoneham's parish church. What on earth do you think they could mean? I honestly have no idea. This character, (a man who looks to me as if he's modelled on a real person) seems to be in chain mail, or some kind of hood. But why is he carrying two heads? Or perhaps he has three heads growing out of different parts of his body? So many ancient churches contain such things which obviously had significance. Often, the grotesqueries were intended to warn congregation against particular sins or ideas. Can you imagine coming to church and meeting these characters every Sunday? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-l3LPol_MDvCV-8THZX8SC-Ar4uOHorU-KnCCp4TkonRyVCiJ-VdtmAe4PFQdp3o5m4mGUNM5qpWR7Y7Go3K75h0bji2JJ5VZyHA0NDVZGSUM-dL1UrlOzRHhLe2QYgTFtdbHLOMYFDLBp5XBVgvh6d2kQzcSUrxkdMW1HpsDieqx0swj9yByWyuM=s4000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-l3LPol_MDvCV-8THZX8SC-Ar4uOHorU-KnCCp4TkonRyVCiJ-VdtmAe4PFQdp3o5m4mGUNM5qpWR7Y7Go3K75h0bji2JJ5VZyHA0NDVZGSUM-dL1UrlOzRHhLe2QYgTFtdbHLOMYFDLBp5XBVgvh6d2kQzcSUrxkdMW1HpsDieqx0swj9yByWyuM=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Earl Stoneham church also has a magnificent wooden roof which must have taken years to make. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHW4JUp1mHvBJqskKl9767UdRPAQyYoLCHWAm3bNCy9XFT-0JrJIp-tuzYOmch55PG2MmA7WQy2R6-0LCJRpLXDawVV7nCe7TmHFG-W2D7piy49jrL7s7nWyb8RbVKyUYwmaXC9TFugNWaA0OoSaYtdsrlLiSL4-q9V4rcppbOxxKRvb9TAKJoASKo=s4272" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHW4JUp1mHvBJqskKl9767UdRPAQyYoLCHWAm3bNCy9XFT-0JrJIp-tuzYOmch55PG2MmA7WQy2R6-0LCJRpLXDawVV7nCe7TmHFG-W2D7piy49jrL7s7nWyb8RbVKyUYwmaXC9TFugNWaA0OoSaYtdsrlLiSL4-q9V4rcppbOxxKRvb9TAKJoASKo=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It is carved with beautiful angels looking down at the congregation, and at those other quaintly carved reminders of sin and the difficulties of life. And no doubt the congregation looked up at the angels above and felt reassured.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5-l1GRcukVGBR9LkwsaphVVcScm6i3Sh9u_HsKs5QBUjveWVEVPXJqGTS3c1yTVw-dSqDAsw0pdYy78Qf0S6GTqcNifUOz9BnoV1bSG80cm0Q5xMrtQTqiMyO09DgMGbdEkrjSWSPyWWkLkvjiW4sIt0uZj7PN632yraL2Uz7eFAuT1LtVXU0fp6g=s4272" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5-l1GRcukVGBR9LkwsaphVVcScm6i3Sh9u_HsKs5QBUjveWVEVPXJqGTS3c1yTVw-dSqDAsw0pdYy78Qf0S6GTqcNifUOz9BnoV1bSG80cm0Q5xMrtQTqiMyO09DgMGbdEkrjSWSPyWWkLkvjiW4sIt0uZj7PN632yraL2Uz7eFAuT1LtVXU0fp6g=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Over the months, in London, we were getting out too, particularly on our short cycle rides up and down hills to local areas of interest. Once we met a Pearly Royal Family. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF68NcD06JX0wF1U1fizLWt2tpbfwJePuPQ1m5GzIP9u7M8pWJ-HDrvQY50i8QnN54iHsc9REzVBodOeCDFUrtLi6GFwOw6mUVBoqCNRyWRljUFmS49lkqruw8B4F0J90zx7Dxeu8b4W4/s2048/IMG_20210619_113227015_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF68NcD06JX0wF1U1fizLWt2tpbfwJePuPQ1m5GzIP9u7M8pWJ-HDrvQY50i8QnN54iHsc9REzVBodOeCDFUrtLi6GFwOw6mUVBoqCNRyWRljUFmS49lkqruw8B4F0J90zx7Dxeu8b4W4/w640-h360/IMG_20210619_113227015_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In early <b>October </b>we climbed up to a prehistoric fort on West Woodhay Down, part of the ancient fortified Wessex landscape. Lots of grassland, sheep, small fields, clumps of woodland, hardly any people, and, I am sure, a lot of archaeology hidden in the chalky soil. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxqi3jHYSwBuONku6OJj-6oI7ZbkI5DvN4EKQ9mo6nGekWxuJBybe1ETUD63hZcafE5dm7gpdAjHdC5jxUnUWNf1Q-Oa9aqxnmizxy3MXo3nCberStA7Zi2mdSwWBke4dlBNq3md2Dvk_JgpemZxx5mzLJG8anvkdzl8efyqN_5-t6UD_YzRjAYvJP=s1272" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="1272" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxqi3jHYSwBuONku6OJj-6oI7ZbkI5DvN4EKQ9mo6nGekWxuJBybe1ETUD63hZcafE5dm7gpdAjHdC5jxUnUWNf1Q-Oa9aqxnmizxy3MXo3nCberStA7Zi2mdSwWBke4dlBNq3md2Dvk_JgpemZxx5mzLJG8anvkdzl8efyqN_5-t6UD_YzRjAYvJP=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was very clear and bright at first, but as the day moved on, decorative clouds of all types gathered in the sky and then floated away again. I couldn't take my eyes off them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAxwYvwyQNeS1yc6epJN2lkX7JuIAZvwu3uDGazY7JAndlT7ZQ36E5zkRnsAhI35Kz-75uFthddKX0X8PJIRDqcuqm8CD0OENvsvQ4sxvgakQe-caKHPxxQ7hnq2M_Qh6-cxLXWO2DYmu-9pXiyrnM-LMbjgRkXkWeGwz6jaalITpOpr1i1z-yuEgj=s3822" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2772" data-original-width="3822" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAxwYvwyQNeS1yc6epJN2lkX7JuIAZvwu3uDGazY7JAndlT7ZQ36E5zkRnsAhI35Kz-75uFthddKX0X8PJIRDqcuqm8CD0OENvsvQ4sxvgakQe-caKHPxxQ7hnq2M_Qh6-cxLXWO2DYmu-9pXiyrnM-LMbjgRkXkWeGwz6jaalITpOpr1i1z-yuEgj=w640-h464" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBpQn6Y2z7yAw6smyKy0gYxtELJKxVXxiesz_gdIAbc9UF4apilrIrmPBKuPKPd-e4hgacc8mYnwt_7mBSsMA6UulI_71wBdz_YIZ_PgpLmhAO4fDdJsGvle-WfyyfyjbVgufxxz4v03wegmZ5JnC4QFOWR-g8RT6Qu-lT5-4deDSO1PQ2r89NIymQ=s2835" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2835" data-original-width="2250" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBpQn6Y2z7yAw6smyKy0gYxtELJKxVXxiesz_gdIAbc9UF4apilrIrmPBKuPKPd-e4hgacc8mYnwt_7mBSsMA6UulI_71wBdz_YIZ_PgpLmhAO4fDdJsGvle-WfyyfyjbVgufxxz4v03wegmZ5JnC4QFOWR-g8RT6Qu-lT5-4deDSO1PQ2r89NIymQ=w508-h640" width="508" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Around this time of year there was a tremendous shortage of petrol and a shortage of goods in the shops, basically because there aren't enough truck drivers. There was quite a bit of panic buying, and huge queues at most filling stations, if they had any petrol at all.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinrr6JSDHVYBMs_JSa01qBsYeRqgwmWrheLMTjlsA4ytO0LVUj0ORSaH4Fv1In1glLdGFAJc8agEU7HvV3VhaByPj_3MJlP-9tsIOPpgEvoVSASsAGq-7HnVc6xxREaVEh36PT8v_0UOk/s2272/bentley.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1130" data-original-width="2272" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinrr6JSDHVYBMs_JSa01qBsYeRqgwmWrheLMTjlsA4ytO0LVUj0ORSaH4Fv1In1glLdGFAJc8agEU7HvV3VhaByPj_3MJlP-9tsIOPpgEvoVSASsAGq-7HnVc6xxREaVEh36PT8v_0UOk/w640-h318/bentley.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We passed a pub which jokingly suggested it was time to panic buy some beer :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJQStvP4dcRW_B5cBA4j_E8U57SPAuoE8we89cJS2k1BGPhBwO2kbUo_rkxd9WSQwclAeOsYA0R-Ahn-YbDUn2wS3VlktxK78sqLebM_FiStIjrPr_fx3qj2isZaBANuoXFoU4MfAHXM/s1132/panic+buy+beer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="1132" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJQStvP4dcRW_B5cBA4j_E8U57SPAuoE8we89cJS2k1BGPhBwO2kbUo_rkxd9WSQwclAeOsYA0R-Ahn-YbDUn2wS3VlktxK78sqLebM_FiStIjrPr_fx3qj2isZaBANuoXFoU4MfAHXM/w640-h402/panic+buy+beer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The <b>November </b>weather wasn't too bad. We took the chance, finally, to attend the Alice in Wonderland exhibition at the V & A, <a href="https://www.vam.ac.uk/exhibitions/alice-curiouser-and-curiouser">"Curiouser and Curiouser"</a>. It had some ingenious interactive and multi media exhibits, including the mad Tea Party which uses animation projection to create a whirl of changing colour and pattern on the Hare and Hatter's tea table. The little fellow you can see standing there in his mask was amazed and intrigued. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbILS4zjHFqPc2JdJvFqNXMRtHSKWfZxi5h_CbVhk4VEyzEwZFzPTqH3M8BQULsUxgsWPf-pC7y452dNYsP-llfU_Aq2B3DONVBpipMTUDOHAD1bLQTG6KychJC5rEPQzxRlFHL2zLhk/s4000/IMG_3450+child+at+mad+tea+party.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbILS4zjHFqPc2JdJvFqNXMRtHSKWfZxi5h_CbVhk4VEyzEwZFzPTqH3M8BQULsUxgsWPf-pC7y452dNYsP-llfU_Aq2B3DONVBpipMTUDOHAD1bLQTG6KychJC5rEPQzxRlFHL2zLhk/w640-h480/IMG_3450+child+at+mad+tea+party.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In November, Christmas things began appearing in the shops. I was very impressed with this window at the local SHELTER charity shop. My photo isn't very good but it was all glittery and white and eye catching, and it took me a while to realise it was actually selling secondhand goods. Apparently one of their volunteers has an interest in display, and ever since then I have been checking out their windows, which are often really interesting. They get good stuff donated, too. </div></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgi9MjHKKg9YX0BoHd_PyUO4v0O8eHP5TX9Hjhg_7l5qMDwf6M3ubLTaolPRQu9RF1toSnqN_A4GYJSrvaf-xYBDLDx6_ufoNu23eMVJmvjtkjxicYHW6F95-jvmo-DC9t97MagEUmBqmf-fUVTM-UIvQjo4JLmJCYuqEe82rvcL8V2a49m5GrQiv6d=s453" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="453" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgi9MjHKKg9YX0BoHd_PyUO4v0O8eHP5TX9Hjhg_7l5qMDwf6M3ubLTaolPRQu9RF1toSnqN_A4GYJSrvaf-xYBDLDx6_ufoNu23eMVJmvjtkjxicYHW6F95-jvmo-DC9t97MagEUmBqmf-fUVTM-UIvQjo4JLmJCYuqEe82rvcL8V2a49m5GrQiv6d=w640-h440" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We took some little walks in autumnal townscapes to enjoy the last of an Indian Summer. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfji_MDCWgwFXvrSdN0VItH6Xaw5nPDSlk8BKt3X4dieZrYgwOPh_8gDMkp5yJsB6M4tthc4pl_2H2zqpMmfbpJuwvSvotH20d1OY06q52-3JY0a5RivZB07MamxHrwOap73CdRwemuZkWn-wYRgxhoJ_nWy17wrjtJwWy4gLxkBtrLmiPrgM8WlPv=s1472" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="828" data-original-width="1472" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfji_MDCWgwFXvrSdN0VItH6Xaw5nPDSlk8BKt3X4dieZrYgwOPh_8gDMkp5yJsB6M4tthc4pl_2H2zqpMmfbpJuwvSvotH20d1OY06q52-3JY0a5RivZB07MamxHrwOap73CdRwemuZkWn-wYRgxhoJ_nWy17wrjtJwWy4gLxkBtrLmiPrgM8WlPv=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Then, it was<b> December</b>, and all of a sudden Christmas was upon us. It was a slightly difficult Christmas, not least because of total lack of guidance from the government about what we were allowed to do. Still, we managed to see everyone and have some fun. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And when Christmas was over, I started clearing out a load of junk, a sort of early Spring cleaning, and received a lovely bunch of flowers from one of my daughters. I was so pleased. Even though it was jsut past Christmas, it was a reminder of the look and the scents of Spring. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkbNuNFeinUyUPNbh48SbbDzkQSgyMAU-2NTbau31daXE8dD9MCwBfllrpf920aHlpf52TyMt73tNaJ0HcAxXqdoe5qFmVTTktRZ33FbJNgkUaUouoaCKk6ADkkYmxAOEBSFxLlJWcL-tTtgWHL15td7B2311LzeVXrEEsksf8H4xGIzixZ4aUeSxe=s1469" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="826" data-original-width="1469" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkbNuNFeinUyUPNbh48SbbDzkQSgyMAU-2NTbau31daXE8dD9MCwBfllrpf920aHlpf52TyMt73tNaJ0HcAxXqdoe5qFmVTTktRZ33FbJNgkUaUouoaCKk6ADkkYmxAOEBSFxLlJWcL-tTtgWHL15td7B2311LzeVXrEEsksf8H4xGIzixZ4aUeSxe=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And here we are in January again. On the whole, it was a nice year, except for the very end, and I hope yours also had some good moments. Please have a good 2022, and I hope that we will soon see the pandemic fade into something more manageable. </div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-16975076545566169172021-05-13T22:56:00.011+01:002021-05-14T21:59:16.351+01:00Catching Up.<div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">Yes, time I caught up on this blog, of course, so here goes. I can't believe it is several weeks since I baked those Hot Cross Buns, but anyway we had a good Easter. The weather was fantastic in London and we even had a picnic out in the garden, one of those lazy sunny days that you wish would never end. The fact that it was so exceptional almost made up for the freezing weather that took its place and has stayed, on and off, ever since. </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">It was freezing when we went on a bike ride a week or so after Easter with our daughter K. She wanted to go to Holland Park to see the Kyoto Japanese Garden. It's so long since T and I have been to Holland Park that we'd never even heard of the Kyoto Garden, let alone seen it. So off we went, gloved, scarved and booted..</div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">Holland Park's in Kensington, in Southwest London, not too far from Harrods and Kensington Gardens. It's what used to be the grounds of a mansion called Holland House, which was bombed in the war and reduced from the upper black-and-white picture below to the much depleted one of the remains of the East Wing.</div><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlPgahFTJ2U7hKSi-1uMTzEQU97PIAVReS9Ei7HdoiONTQ5QcSySWR46nxK0_LGq3yOFUgtVR0kOfGvMUDI1IVjAP096wTJyr5AOyBxNuoISQpqgsMc2UWIH0gHQ4DhphCjLoRMGpbnA/s600/600px-Comparison_of_Holland_House%252C_Kensington%252C_in_1896_and_2014.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="454" data-original-width="600" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlPgahFTJ2U7hKSi-1uMTzEQU97PIAVReS9Ei7HdoiONTQ5QcSySWR46nxK0_LGq3yOFUgtVR0kOfGvMUDI1IVjAP096wTJyr5AOyBxNuoISQpqgsMc2UWIH0gHQ4DhphCjLoRMGpbnA/w640-h484/600px-Comparison_of_Holland_House%252C_Kensington%252C_in_1896_and_2014.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It actually makes quite a reasonable building in its own right, so long as you don't realise what it used to be. Behind it is another arcade, a charming garden and a really good cafe. A life sized set of mural scenes can also be seen, and I wish I could show you them in real life, because part of their charm is that they seem so real you could almost walk into them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They've been painted under shelter of the arcading to protect them from the weather - and it has protected them - but of course they are always in the shade. So I've brightened my photos up to show the colours more clearly. If you were standing there, your eyes would be on a level with those elegantly dressed people, and it wouldn't seem impossible that you could join that path and stroll up to join them. Or at least give the peacock some crumbs from your cucumber sandwiches. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju-x9fYBTYPxezwt6vm9csAkj-bcHrAZyqc9RRxczqQERNC3GsGEX28G7rLOkGOBlOeUJONTm9TFc1aCCywDu3VnGKThb_G_9vamXd02lByL37pZk3V5-xM1sqa2QgYuRrz0EbvY7ZmVA/s2048/Img_8924+Holland+House+mural.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju-x9fYBTYPxezwt6vm9csAkj-bcHrAZyqc9RRxczqQERNC3GsGEX28G7rLOkGOBlOeUJONTm9TFc1aCCywDu3VnGKThb_G_9vamXd02lByL37pZk3V5-xM1sqa2QgYuRrz0EbvY7ZmVA/w640-h480/Img_8924+Holland+House+mural.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We found the Kyoto Garden a little distance away, and it was lovely, even though it seemed subtly unlike a real Japanese garden to me. I can't put my finger on why, so perhaps my Japanese friends would be able to explain, but I think it<i> might </i>be because there was no moss to be seen, and moss seemed to play a definite part in the gardens I saw in Japan. But I don't really know. And, as you see from the picture, it was charming, with the sound of the water very soothing after a ride through London's noisy streets. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div><br /></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWbqSSi3bGhyGzdl_GWdrEhagoQpNhwPp7X4O5-YwwL3PavQ89mPQST70qbO2mW8RFjXvFytCRocyd8zQHZfAHNgz-XAsRQlG0ny442SkHckH3PNbMO3evJW_FYT685o7vfSGPJB4ruKk/s2048/Img_8868+kyoto+garden.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1828" data-original-width="2048" height="573" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWbqSSi3bGhyGzdl_GWdrEhagoQpNhwPp7X4O5-YwwL3PavQ89mPQST70qbO2mW8RFjXvFytCRocyd8zQHZfAHNgz-XAsRQlG0ny442SkHckH3PNbMO3evJW_FYT685o7vfSGPJB4ruKk/w640-h573/Img_8868+kyoto+garden.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I don't remember seeing coins in Japanese koi carp ponds. I believe it is a European tradition, derived from the custom of offering valuables to the pagan river gods. So, since koi carp are lucky in Japan, this pond must be lucky twice over with all that money in it. I threw a coin in, to make sure I shared in some of the luck. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxmQNARz-OKGdPyV7dJDJzhOgXrxX_GGnIOGqetbgu0xR85U2-e8Zd7aynrC91Vh0GpYg4HmHjVY-d6N0RvwU_FvONIzmGVqVtjFGIo0WBYKf1ZxKkfoVO7BOdg8IJ7SoAgiRwTGH9o8/s2048/koi+and+money.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1831" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxmQNARz-OKGdPyV7dJDJzhOgXrxX_GGnIOGqetbgu0xR85U2-e8Zd7aynrC91Vh0GpYg4HmHjVY-d6N0RvwU_FvONIzmGVqVtjFGIo0WBYKf1ZxKkfoVO7BOdg8IJ7SoAgiRwTGH9o8/w573-h640/koi+and+money.jpg" width="573" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Long ago we used to live quite near Holland Park, and in those days it was a bit dull, so we were impressed at how much it has improved, with much of the space given over to wild or naturalised flowers growing amidst the grass and under the trees. But the peacocks are still there - I suspect they have been there for centuries, stalking across the grounds and making their strange, plaintive cry.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I've never seen one displaying its tail in a high wind before, but this time I was lucky and it was a remarkable sight to see it battling the gusts, sometimes swaying about so much that I really thought it would blow away. Its magnificent array of "eyes" quivered violently, and looked almost like real eyes trying to communicate. A very odd and beautiful sight, and one I won't forget. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UQjDnNUwcxncvnrjkA5KMZgMtR_r4qZhG3eHg4y5dLN-ZkLdnxCBFt8cyhK4CxbvVjNzXgL9yHrk7zJ_ouuZLnxw3MbPSr6umetrnzx7DqyAUB8LPK9h2eJcB4d0FsfG_gaPoTaZqvw/s2048/Img_8892+peacock+blowing.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1130" data-original-width="2048" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UQjDnNUwcxncvnrjkA5KMZgMtR_r4qZhG3eHg4y5dLN-ZkLdnxCBFt8cyhK4CxbvVjNzXgL9yHrk7zJ_ouuZLnxw3MbPSr6umetrnzx7DqyAUB8LPK9h2eJcB4d0FsfG_gaPoTaZqvw/w640-h354/Img_8892+peacock+blowing.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>We need to cross from NW to SW London to get to Holland Park, and one of the highlights of the ride for me was coming across an early Victorian white stucco street with a house on the corner that was decorated with flowers and animals all over its gateposts and up its front steps. Here you see a badger, a polar bear and a turtle. </p><p></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6q4P1oN1yFqesXrjBLbGhFmXHIKETG1AB9PTgvo28F2lBvAhYw56MEoCrl04URTLdsnScEn0XGgCaU8ecp-XxY9kKYpG4r8YY7KLqUFfEcOcJ9zjBKs90hJhSm8K1xq8mWLa3xEV8gmo/s1935/Img_8843.badger+and+polar+bear.+jpg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="1935" height="509" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6q4P1oN1yFqesXrjBLbGhFmXHIKETG1AB9PTgvo28F2lBvAhYw56MEoCrl04URTLdsnScEn0XGgCaU8ecp-XxY9kKYpG4r8YY7KLqUFfEcOcJ9zjBKs90hJhSm8K1xq8mWLa3xEV8gmo/w640-h509/Img_8843.badger+and+polar+bear.+jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And here are the front steps with a life sized sheep and a life sized dog guarding the door. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJBXzPvNqxdke06mA9LUiBH7i8MY5RjNXvEeIHYfKrt7zWZKbjjgahKzN3kBizwpt4AXbAnKDD3Wft_Zx3eDnNtIujkdUu_o7t1EP789ciUxKFkXN14lpumxmkI9u91NQ9zOIhbAGbxE/s2048/Img_8841+Richard+Curtis+front+steps.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJBXzPvNqxdke06mA9LUiBH7i8MY5RjNXvEeIHYfKrt7zWZKbjjgahKzN3kBizwpt4AXbAnKDD3Wft_Zx3eDnNtIujkdUu_o7t1EP789ciUxKFkXN14lpumxmkI9u91NQ9zOIhbAGbxE/w480-h640/Img_8841+Richard+Curtis+front+steps.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was told that the house belongs to Richard Curtis, who directed many of my favourite comedy programmes and also some world-famous films, including the appropriately named "Notting Hill." I hope my photos convey how charming and friendly the place seemed to be - a bit magical too, as if Mary Poppins might suddenly walk out with her umbrella in her hand.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A few days after our trip to Holland Park, we took a walk with V, our other daughter, just to catch up really, as she is incredibly busy with her storytelling business which now keeps her busy at all kinds of odd hours. T and I put our scarves and gloves and hats on and braved an even more freezing day than before to cycle to Waterloo which is halfway between V's house and ours. There, we all parked our bikes and took a walk. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We happened to wander down Roupell Street, (mentioned in my last post) and this time I realised there were a strangely large number of vintage Citroen cars parked there, which I hadn't noticed on my earlier visit. Apparently Roupell St. is also known for its Citroens, and has (or had till recently) a Citroen repair shop of its own. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAOYgSC6uKSZSuTyRbBss1RdNuxh0EQdsxH1sMqWkFWdyiICxQwkiT65uyIcyexHZcg5ms93pjt66q-HTlANmRJ1c-RA5YXi-SAf5rZoYAvlZAU_2UvrwoCmo6BPOjxChj65f0GkE3byk/s4000/IMG_8971.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAOYgSC6uKSZSuTyRbBss1RdNuxh0EQdsxH1sMqWkFWdyiICxQwkiT65uyIcyexHZcg5ms93pjt66q-HTlANmRJ1c-RA5YXi-SAf5rZoYAvlZAU_2UvrwoCmo6BPOjxChj65f0GkE3byk/w640-h480/IMG_8971.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We drove over to see V and her family a bit later in the month, but as not all of us had been vaccinated at that time, we sat outside in the garden and also went for a little walk, passing the church where one of the boys has started to attend C of E services. Before lockdown, he'd been going to Westminster Abbey every Sunday (on the principle that if he's going to get up and go to church he might as well go to one he likes the look of) but he says the local one is very nice too. It's obviously not your typical Church of England building. Next time we walk past I'll try to go inside, but a storm was brewing and we decided to head back to the house. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6euXqSTCYykjnw0TgzcgRyHXoKaq_WdHzlVDaX45BPTFkl_8hT0o_unMcp7-_6TFFP7RdCMZ1QlSMKKj4yUA4lEyHtZNmEiq_Z4ehLt6Dwm5SdiyR-0Z2Hp_4Qvkpbwv8jwgBxH3RpQ/s4000/IMG_9047.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6euXqSTCYykjnw0TgzcgRyHXoKaq_WdHzlVDaX45BPTFkl_8hT0o_unMcp7-_6TFFP7RdCMZ1QlSMKKj4yUA4lEyHtZNmEiq_Z4ehLt6Dwm5SdiyR-0Z2Hp_4Qvkpbwv8jwgBxH3RpQ/w640-h480/IMG_9047.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">A bit later we accompanied V and G to Highgate Cemetery, which is so full of extraordinary stuff, stories and inhabitants, that it needs a post all to itself. I did think I would do one after our visit, but then I didn't get round to blogging again. It was one of several cemeteries owned by the London Cemetery Company in the 19th century, and fell into disrepair for a while. It now belongs to a cemetery trust which tries to preserve the uniquely Gothic atmosphere while also stopping the place from falling down. Usually visitors can only take a guided tour, but during lockdown, self guided tours became available, and we thought it a great chance to linger in the place and choose where to go and what to see for ourselves. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is the entrance to Egyptian Avenue, which is lined with Grecian style tombs. There are huge laurel bushes - now huge laurel trees - growing above it, not to mention lots of ivy, blocking out the sun. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbjVH8zakwauJZ-5VIZg4kkqVunMmoVT2hIRkHfHqZQoUnNUg8DcqX-0MMMh_oh0UXQdUkgbEc6NtieVC47Ab57Wgq5JLLuSfNaEEtj3Ft5m3xbwKDDXkq_oKN4Qal44xekevlaH9eWM/s2048/Img_933+Entrance+to+Egyptian+Avenue.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1597" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbjVH8zakwauJZ-5VIZg4kkqVunMmoVT2hIRkHfHqZQoUnNUg8DcqX-0MMMh_oh0UXQdUkgbEc6NtieVC47Ab57Wgq5JLLuSfNaEEtj3Ft5m3xbwKDDXkq_oKN4Qal44xekevlaH9eWM/w469-h640/Img_933+Entrance+to+Egyptian+Avenue.jpg" width="469" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZgL_xlQHGhfhPfV8xklQoHlYnQFVX29zp5PbJl5RlLQeb3KVrw7OTRPehG9bCCVRCRAhXQZuj1JysJuv-Uth_nFiRUGHdP3-LWxfrkzXm_LwBvfAzIgSTlJXjmE6JA1LJ8AgSHC5b1uE/s2048/Img_9344+inside+egyptian+avenue.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1627" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZgL_xlQHGhfhPfV8xklQoHlYnQFVX29zp5PbJl5RlLQeb3KVrw7OTRPehG9bCCVRCRAhXQZuj1JysJuv-Uth_nFiRUGHdP3-LWxfrkzXm_LwBvfAzIgSTlJXjmE6JA1LJ8AgSHC5b1uE/w318-h400/Img_9344+inside+egyptian+avenue.jpg" width="318" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There are far too many stories, memorials and Gothic curiosities at Highgate for me to describe in a short blog post, but if you want to know a bit more about the Cemetery and its background, there is information<a href="https://highgatecemetery.org/visit"> here or elsewhere on the internet.</a> I have to just mention to you George Wombwell, the menagerist, whose lion monument caught my eye. A character (to say the least,) he was once offered a reward by Prince Albert, whose dogs he had successfully advised the prince about. Wombwell reportedly replied, "What can you offer to a man who has everything?" but when Albert insisted, he chose wood salvaged from the Royal George, which had been the biggest warship in the world, with which to make his own coffin. So I guess that very coffin is now reposing beneath the lion.... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHURHXTCAQDrhfZ5nFG5MJRw0vov1_drGWAkTKJmJzssBWu8N9oQB_fmUSWes-lCgNBToLBTQiDxQSIKV0rls0O72ivOOnXD_hUUczCIy9rT1s61_rGAJXWoOMYam31ENAszr7b352fw/s2048/Img_9407+george+wombwell+menagerist.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1551" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHURHXTCAQDrhfZ5nFG5MJRw0vov1_drGWAkTKJmJzssBWu8N9oQB_fmUSWes-lCgNBToLBTQiDxQSIKV0rls0O72ivOOnXD_hUUczCIy9rT1s61_rGAJXWoOMYam31ENAszr7b352fw/w484-h640/Img_9407+george+wombwell+menagerist.jpg" width="484" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is absolutely impossible to do Highgate Cemetery in brief, though. If you want to know all about it, you will either need to do a lot of research, or take the guided tour. To be honest, though, we didn't think that much about the dead on this occasion, illustrious and quirky though so many of them were. The weather was bright and sunny, the wild flowers were so cheerfully flourishing and the sky so obligingly presented a striking patterned background to the Gothic tombs climbing steeply up the hillside. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-sQ7HvvU8-ei_mV_DMfTvjwk0jMpRJEsEVyCJ_2M330o6Eb2049gdXkqZfUlquSUAWUplaZG0iWr-UJ0moY4bZIwbXO8oWa1A6UchE_4uAGSGySlILkRuZOtf80Fw15Cv6yptQuFZ1A/s4000/IMG_9364.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn-sQ7HvvU8-ei_mV_DMfTvjwk0jMpRJEsEVyCJ_2M330o6Eb2049gdXkqZfUlquSUAWUplaZG0iWr-UJ0moY4bZIwbXO8oWa1A6UchE_4uAGSGySlILkRuZOtf80Fw15Cv6yptQuFZ1A/w480-h640/IMG_9364.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> And many of the trees, curiously tall and thin, were still in blossom. We spent several hours there and did not get tired of it. And it wasn't even that cold!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCPdN-uE0yK2ra-lIGaL8k2uko907DcN3oaZgkY_luiRQHPCvTDtc4nxZOh0wrz8vZSoAQKNSJ-OR3-FAqSt7HS_p3wyrxl5D11QJtrn7C6Z8nBdwXkBxXQwruf13vFzcb26VPV1mwR4/s1965/Img_9389+blossom+and+sky+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1764" data-original-width="1965" height="574" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCPdN-uE0yK2ra-lIGaL8k2uko907DcN3oaZgkY_luiRQHPCvTDtc4nxZOh0wrz8vZSoAQKNSJ-OR3-FAqSt7HS_p3wyrxl5D11QJtrn7C6Z8nBdwXkBxXQwruf13vFzcb26VPV1mwR4/w640-h574/Img_9389+blossom+and+sky+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My next venture out was when T and I went to Hungerford to do a few errands, calling in at the lovely Gerald Palmer woods on the way. I've written about both before - I know the area well because my parents lived there for many years. The little folly in its woodland clearing, with washing drying in the wind and sun, looked springlike, though the Spring was far less advanced there than 70 miles east, in London. In fact, there were hardly any leaves on the trees! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyo1Qo7IvmtcOi8v9-XThxgGQzeIXfqFZ-ljVO7R_h-E2ga748vN-TFlEGAMGr6XTOnGybfryqpxadeYEJAQ8B1esuz8-RHg-FIMWrso1p18YTU6PdyCSGXD1IDHh7YRwJ-XW2VZ7XG6E/s1767/Little+folly+at+Gerald+Palmer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="994" data-original-width="1767" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyo1Qo7IvmtcOi8v9-XThxgGQzeIXfqFZ-ljVO7R_h-E2ga748vN-TFlEGAMGr6XTOnGybfryqpxadeYEJAQ8B1esuz8-RHg-FIMWrso1p18YTU6PdyCSGXD1IDHh7YRwJ-XW2VZ7XG6E/w400-h225/Little+folly+at+Gerald+Palmer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Once in Hungerford, I admired this model of the town hall and notable local buildings (below) in the oldfashioned window of the Tutti Pole Restaurant - someone had obviously spent their lockdown time well. It appears to be snowy in the model, with an Easter egg sledging down the bridge at the right, which about matches the way the weather has been lately. At the time, only food and essential shops were allowed to be open, so things seemed a bit quiet, but most of the businesses had apparently survived so I hope they will return. And, in case you did not read my post in which I talked about the Tutti ceremony, <a href="http://jennywoolftravel.blogspot.com/2012/04/april-weather-tutti-poles-hocktide-and.html">here it is.</a> I sure hope the Tutti Pole will survive the effects of lockdown, I'd be so sorry if it went. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_HIMETF-XmcjwYWjl10jH_Hpg_teEspd5V6vDCRchFAe3HFwRA-6O0d-daAuQOqg5MX-aYmJpXa1URhQzxRowUORyprDWQ5orLwyEfkQ8ftx-JrutzoimRfUB72lp_3zmoCieEhvM6U/s4272/P2150457.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_HIMETF-XmcjwYWjl10jH_Hpg_teEspd5V6vDCRchFAe3HFwRA-6O0d-daAuQOqg5MX-aYmJpXa1URhQzxRowUORyprDWQ5orLwyEfkQ8ftx-JrutzoimRfUB72lp_3zmoCieEhvM6U/w640-h429/P2150457.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Out on the Marsh nature reserve, there was oceans of blackthorn blossom and the long pale reeds were almost dazzling in the sunlight.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kDKHKiB-jK3AL_zv03_cWjbVmfLf1JIlongMAzDEx9XSu8egpoAzGyo8kXJQ1Z5Ld5vZMlaBVzPgPwnlwNFymMLDR5eDFhwoOny2OFDcEaYV8UpdNIKG2OUakx-8UJkoVsguEtrn5aE/s4272/P2150447+blackthorn+and+reeds.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kDKHKiB-jK3AL_zv03_cWjbVmfLf1JIlongMAzDEx9XSu8egpoAzGyo8kXJQ1Z5Ld5vZMlaBVzPgPwnlwNFymMLDR5eDFhwoOny2OFDcEaYV8UpdNIKG2OUakx-8UJkoVsguEtrn5aE/w640-h428/P2150447+blackthorn+and+reeds.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I thought the snow leopard in the haberdashery window was very fetching, too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaJU8m5uKmtFOMlYTIqXrqUMOeTZmK1346uuEvLuGYTzBpteLJeXq1Lmpd_fpe826JDeDoLyGCYLJOsKpNb6HZWM2JvmhK0E62B1wA1ylkfB6YmwcfiSjnJ0Tkj53Cy7vS3Eis2bluECA/s4000/IMG_9670.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaJU8m5uKmtFOMlYTIqXrqUMOeTZmK1346uuEvLuGYTzBpteLJeXq1Lmpd_fpe826JDeDoLyGCYLJOsKpNb6HZWM2JvmhK0E62B1wA1ylkfB6YmwcfiSjnJ0Tkj53Cy7vS3Eis2bluECA/w300-h400/IMG_9670.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">During out time in London, we went, as ever, on the Heath, and saw birds all building their nests, including ducks (I think this is a moorhen) nesting on the ponds. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8BJ2NXngWVCZbhQrMf1gaiONYRA_sJPRklgdCqGZ3Tg1Vtqx717sqbHidL17_1lo8TOm7jZQul1UgHuzPxniiwWj-4uLq0TsyhNSgylEV2Xh9bqePUHfNO7KkQLH7ry6XN3YAhsJEqc/s2048/nesting+bird+on+heath+pond.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2035" data-original-width="2048" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8BJ2NXngWVCZbhQrMf1gaiONYRA_sJPRklgdCqGZ3Tg1Vtqx717sqbHidL17_1lo8TOm7jZQul1UgHuzPxniiwWj-4uLq0TsyhNSgylEV2Xh9bqePUHfNO7KkQLH7ry6XN3YAhsJEqc/w640-h636/nesting+bird+on+heath+pond.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The gardeners house at Kenwood has now opened again - it contains a little second hand bookshop and also sells English Heritage goods and plants. Although still freezing, the weather was dazzlingly bright again in this picture.. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaWtUq5rnxACBJnOFDANCRceszvM-ttHgR1tdVstFCZyan5wnJlN__yzLo66OFvfyQJTLkAY6wyspDCSWrJakqF6DWacQ1cTEfk05ypVc-xXbQWtvXH8DWpZY6hd4iYXM4jnRM68gg950/s4272/P2150495.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaWtUq5rnxACBJnOFDANCRceszvM-ttHgR1tdVstFCZyan5wnJlN__yzLo66OFvfyQJTLkAY6wyspDCSWrJakqF6DWacQ1cTEfk05ypVc-xXbQWtvXH8DWpZY6hd4iYXM4jnRM68gg950/w640-h428/P2150495.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>And April was also the month in which we finally rediscovered the Heath's <a href="chalybeate spring">chalybeate spring</a>, which we had come across before but seemed awfully hard to find again. In fact, in the end, T. took a ride up to the heath by himself, and explored everywhere he thought this spring could be. And he found it, so was able to show it to me next time we went up together! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Chalybeate springs are full of iron, and there is no doubt that the water tastes... hm... a little strange, although it is drinkable and we found it quite welcome, and thought it was probably even healthy. Well, at least I hope it was healthy since we drank quite a bit. We even filled a bottle and took it home and over the next day the iron separated out of the water and the water became pink. Certainly it was the supposed health benefits that turned Hampstead into a spa in the 18th century, and all those people can't have been wrong, can they? So, fingers crossed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I love the fountainhead, which was created in the 1920s in memory of one of the people who worked to preserve the heath. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIZZRtNZtKu2Ccy3Z4-F-VK_S2wCA_aNrFX-M3-d5wiUfvHP1zKNQV12K1LGOCxSzFBoOXp6sAzBLWk7ynBjvEc5_tb3f3dT7F5_sorjPct8rl7xO9FQ7TSGG2mr2Qaxose-yMx4A1QE/s4272/P2150484.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2856" data-original-width="4272" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIZZRtNZtKu2Ccy3Z4-F-VK_S2wCA_aNrFX-M3-d5wiUfvHP1zKNQV12K1LGOCxSzFBoOXp6sAzBLWk7ynBjvEc5_tb3f3dT7F5_sorjPct8rl7xO9FQ7TSGG2mr2Qaxose-yMx4A1QE/w640-h428/P2150484.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We also took 2 separate trips with K to see how the gardens at Fenton House were getting along, followed by lunch at Burgh House, which is, among other things, the local museum for Hampstead. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Fenton House dates from the 17th century and belongs to the National Trust. If you <a href="https://www.gardenvisit.com/gardens/fenton_house_garden">click the link</a> you'll go to a site with a little film of the garden, but one of its charms is that it looks different at every season. The first time we went, in April, there seemed to be a lot of green and white around.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-EX2P_Jzg9-kHYEG-XiWnC79A7fWWr5Zv_rImlYAgw0G2jywiM2ki1TzwsBraBZa8uIMIqXTGhXOAowcMLs7B4GcZo1mtPAOXTWcCAo-7hUF65z3n7oXP5oIzBtl045YUc5bfEGszzo/s2048/Img_9206+view+towards+fenton+house+with+daffodils.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-EX2P_Jzg9-kHYEG-XiWnC79A7fWWr5Zv_rImlYAgw0G2jywiM2ki1TzwsBraBZa8uIMIqXTGhXOAowcMLs7B4GcZo1mtPAOXTWcCAo-7hUF65z3n7oXP5oIzBtl045YUc5bfEGszzo/w400-h300/Img_9206+view+towards+fenton+house+with+daffodils.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> The second time, those flower pots in the formal garden were much more colourful with brightly coloured tulips, some late daffodils, and forget-me-nots</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1yOZ-uUhNGJ-6xqb6BCZrC9iqD8NlmPxgh0KDfryBxtzEBppkQU_Gb67_17UTSRJRYUJVunmf5P44ABxL8zPdHYdJ_HarKxI1uM7vBk7lJ9zbizxXZfrEEpxSl-unaRfZb2bYcxm5kOg/s4000/IMG_9801.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1yOZ-uUhNGJ-6xqb6BCZrC9iqD8NlmPxgh0KDfryBxtzEBppkQU_Gb67_17UTSRJRYUJVunmf5P44ABxL8zPdHYdJ_HarKxI1uM7vBk7lJ9zbizxXZfrEEpxSl-unaRfZb2bYcxm5kOg/w400-h300/IMG_9801.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8l_XDuNsy5vEdctOMu36IqntK2ErAHIxJ9eA9zwT4N9m9OxhqZSUMApTHfHyqHTG1cMqHKDRKq-pvEcsKVZzFNI63SmR2gvcKbHNq0TFGwGnxfgwM8ZFsWYhibZlsbz9ja4Q_pKJezis/s4000/IMG_9822.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8l_XDuNsy5vEdctOMu36IqntK2ErAHIxJ9eA9zwT4N9m9OxhqZSUMApTHfHyqHTG1cMqHKDRKq-pvEcsKVZzFNI63SmR2gvcKbHNq0TFGwGnxfgwM8ZFsWYhibZlsbz9ja4Q_pKJezis/w400-h300/IMG_9822.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The orchard, which is to the right of the of the topiary, showed more signs of life on the second visit, but there still wasn't as much blossom as you'd expect, except for one tree which was covered in magnificent pompom clusters of white blossoms. It may be a variety of very late flowering cherry, but to be honest, I don't really know what it is since I don't think I've seen anything like it before. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK6VIDm9mf94WzU4hVsMV9Q5Yn9PYMQd8OyEf-NL9JoHPcH59ZKh9NxuYtWrYaktT_LD2ebbQOVcL5U1an4IFjaC1jIb_85OnZsFnKOmL2kbYjYpwMfSgWWa4WtOqtJz16GgbfowPRGjI/s1602/P2150561+pompom+cherries.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1383" data-original-width="1602" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK6VIDm9mf94WzU4hVsMV9Q5Yn9PYMQd8OyEf-NL9JoHPcH59ZKh9NxuYtWrYaktT_LD2ebbQOVcL5U1an4IFjaC1jIb_85OnZsFnKOmL2kbYjYpwMfSgWWa4WtOqtJz16GgbfowPRGjI/w400-h345/P2150561+pompom+cherries.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>It remained perishing cold, so when we left the garden we were pleased we could walk around the corner and find a sunny courtyard in Burgh House, which served us some of the best soup and definitely the best herb scones I have had all year. plus what seemed like half a pound of cheese. I'll write about Burgh House in a later post - it's a great place and I can't wait for it to be fully open again. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbWHAbb3cWjxRwvHZqz4m9jI_MblyibL2YJJUqyiWzjTQLkT4g2ebMNCMfjY7zgSL-6Kl_D0BdAQvUVNE0jt_mChtc4hg_Cl-NXl308kLN2c0v-4NZNfQjh8abmjMRUaTBKZSZkYpqLQ/s2048/Img_9891+beautiful+soup.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbWHAbb3cWjxRwvHZqz4m9jI_MblyibL2YJJUqyiWzjTQLkT4g2ebMNCMfjY7zgSL-6Kl_D0BdAQvUVNE0jt_mChtc4hg_Cl-NXl308kLN2c0v-4NZNfQjh8abmjMRUaTBKZSZkYpqLQ/w640-h480/Img_9891+beautiful+soup.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well, that only brings me up to the beginning of May but I have to go and do some cooking now. We're having friends over for the first time since lockdown, all the way from Edinburgh. It is tempting to feel we're on the way back to normality but we've been almost at that point before, and I'm not entirely confident it will last. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I've been reading a lot, and also watching a few movies. Many of them are kids movies which I've watched with Boy and Girl Twin - I adored "Nanny McPhee" and am in awe of Emma Thompson, who not only acted the title role but wrote the screenplay. I was also quite taken by a Japanese film that I found on DVD in the local charity shop. It's called "After the Storm" and was directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda. I had enjoyed his "Shoplifters" and this film also won various accolades. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Apart from the brilliant Kiki Kirin stealing the show as a philosophical, unpredictable granny, I liked the film's message, which is that even though you can't do much to change life, or human nature, (including your own) you can make the best of it all and have some good times. A good general attitude to have to life's everyday ups and downs, I think. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/i0lr6hfRG9s" width="320" youtube-src-id="i0lr6hfRG9s"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'll end now, and will be catching up on everyone else's blogs in the next week or two, as well as my own - again. I hope your own last few weeks have been good. </div><p><br /></p><p><br /> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />, <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937298116504825290.post-5055037497942090772021-04-04T00:10:00.013+01:002021-04-04T19:45:50.522+01:00Happy Easter!<p> For the first time ever, I made Hot Cross Buns for Good Friday. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLrh2PDs0M-mplRmChyphenhyphenM4gxXLR-nJIRDpvSihdasrU11Qlh946k3CiZLxxHwG55HwF96gYE-I6ZKi6BdMahut7wWPL7cnE1PLt3ABSWYOtigsiaFVi_v-zUMkfAiGS9kMmB0T0fP4PAg/s2048/hopt+cross+buns.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLrh2PDs0M-mplRmChyphenhyphenM4gxXLR-nJIRDpvSihdasrU11Qlh946k3CiZLxxHwG55HwF96gYE-I6ZKi6BdMahut7wWPL7cnE1PLt3ABSWYOtigsiaFVi_v-zUMkfAiGS9kMmB0T0fP4PAg/w400-h300/hopt+cross+buns.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: center;">They may look a bit wonky, but everyone liked them, I'm glad to say, so I'm going to make them again. I don't do much yeast cookery but if you have the time to let the dough rise and time to knead it, I've realised, it's somehow very satisfying. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: center;">I've had my second vaccination and feeling good about that, too. I didn't get any of the threatened side effects from the Pfizer vaccine, although I felt a little limp and tired today. But I just sat and read a book my younger daughter had lent me - Francis Spufford's new novel "Light Perpetual."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><span style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_R32qAPQt6ldKdZ3dYPTYsutXKw_jDj_xQEVKZrJpQ6mutt6aVmjnbot_b28DFZyT5eHP54NtAhhvKtiT68QUAxw2Zk3smb3SMPOon0VChGNNBWCqwpEqfcJGP18W6oYETX7slwyROdQ/s450/27812.books.origjpg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="294" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_R32qAPQt6ldKdZ3dYPTYsutXKw_jDj_xQEVKZrJpQ6mutt6aVmjnbot_b28DFZyT5eHP54NtAhhvKtiT68QUAxw2Zk3smb3SMPOon0VChGNNBWCqwpEqfcJGP18W6oYETX7slwyROdQ/w261-h400/27812.books.origjpg.jpg" width="261" /></a></div><br /></span></div><p style="text-align: center;"> The first few paragraphs of <a href="https://www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/light-perpetual-francis-spufford-review-lindsay-duguid/">this review in the TLS</a> tell you the idea behind of the book. Even though it's behind a paywall. I've linked to it because of the striking photograph. Thank God those prams are not all full of babies. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> The story tells of the might-have-been lives of five people who were killed as infants in an air raid during the second world war. The air raid was real, but Spufford's characters are not based on any of those who passed away. He has created them entirely from his head, and also created the premise that the raid did not, in fact happen. And yet the book is so convincingly written and so true to life, that I ended up believing these five people simply must have existed, and also mourning the death of those tragic real children who never had a chance to live. </p><p style="text-align: center;">His earlier book, "Golden Hill" about pre-Revolutionary New York, had this quality of almost painful realism, all the little details about daily life seemed to transport the reader right back to that unfamiliar (for me) time and place. This is the cover of "Golden Hill", and if you spot it, I can only suggest you take a look and see what you think. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0wK9RCgDY-wWAJGG5f6StWs59_0hVL7scL0KwOt_8mfzFht7j1-JARplj0spSpezFWptmvFbF1TtTB8uEdNR459wJRZ_EC1oV1l7hQG1DGqG6oNmrgTzheeamdeefX02Y58xBWeiZdM/s278/golden+hill.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="278" data-original-width="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0wK9RCgDY-wWAJGG5f6StWs59_0hVL7scL0KwOt_8mfzFht7j1-JARplj0spSpezFWptmvFbF1TtTB8uEdNR459wJRZ_EC1oV1l7hQG1DGqG6oNmrgTzheeamdeefX02Y58xBWeiZdM/s0/golden+hill.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;">He is a non-preachy Christian, so obviously he looks towards the light after death rather than the darkness, even though there is no explicit religious message in the books and even though his characters suffer terribly at times. After the stress and strain of the last year, I'm glad to have an engaging, positive book to read, and I'd love to hear your views if you have read it too. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Last week, England's lockdown relaxed just a bit, and we're now allowed to meet up to six people who aren't in the same household, so long as we are outside. So we went for a walk with S. who is in his first year of university studies ... except that he's at home doing university on Zoom when he ought to be 400 miles away at a real place with real people. There's nothing he or any of his friends can do about it but I know it is a bit hard on them all. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Anyway, we began on the South bank of the Thames, and he took T and me northwards for a mile or two to see the London home of the famous Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot, perhaps Agatha Christie's most famous creation. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Poirot is one of S's favourite fictional characters, and he is one of mine too. David Suchet seems synonymous with Poirot, and I love everything about his long-running BBC series, from the brilliant 1930s style titles, to the acting, the settings, the wonderful costumes, and ... well just everything. </p><p style="text-align: center;">In the BBC series, Poirot lives in an art deco block of flats which would have been the latest thing in the 1930s. You can see the block at about 2.20 on this episode.... I found myself watching the rest of the episode, too!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Cw-nCHLpwwU" width="408" youtube-src-id="Cw-nCHLpwwU"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was surprisingly exciting to see it in real life, and find that it is in Charterhouse Square, a corner of London when many really old buildings survive. (One of the things I am going to do when London reopens, is actually go round <a href="https://thecharterhouse.org/">The Charterhouse</a>, which I have never done.) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So here is the block of flats. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-X_IAl75D9irIPd_pdIMZJJQnJzgKGFLdrMaLBNpd6xfY9SL-5u-MgUDau3vXMqlFHw6Ew6Bs0oRaeS6cDp3XzHm9hfB3lSHxSAOzHrG54H042_RE5uP5I2NP7ZzDb3XeFDNpcdD4Hnc/s2048/Img_8671.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1933" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-X_IAl75D9irIPd_pdIMZJJQnJzgKGFLdrMaLBNpd6xfY9SL-5u-MgUDau3vXMqlFHw6Ew6Bs0oRaeS6cDp3XzHm9hfB3lSHxSAOzHrG54H042_RE5uP5I2NP7ZzDb3XeFDNpcdD4Hnc/w378-h400/Img_8671.jpg" width="378" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As S. pointed out, the cameramen in the Poirot series had to be rather careful with the camera angles so as to avoid the Brutalist concrete blocks of nearby Barbican. It would never do for Poirot to have the backdrop of the architectural masterpiece on the right, which was begun in 1960 and not finished till the 1980s. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhDaN3Tfzf6Z3-Ybb1e-tGqmueWDQUSsKC-8RbdA3Eaacsvd7V0A_-Q-x4AS9qju8DdNwsaQaVFLM-ZjeHm0N2VFmFMx6O6kzHEOTWIeIeYNU7M9kOTHjQPO-4qZ8gjD5j1d6O26OU4o/s1880/poirots+house.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1676" data-original-width="1880" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhDaN3Tfzf6Z3-Ybb1e-tGqmueWDQUSsKC-8RbdA3Eaacsvd7V0A_-Q-x4AS9qju8DdNwsaQaVFLM-ZjeHm0N2VFmFMx6O6kzHEOTWIeIeYNU7M9kOTHjQPO-4qZ8gjD5j1d6O26OU4o/w400-h356/poirots+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">After ambling around the eerily deserted Charterhouse precincts, we continued onwards through Smithfield, the old meat market, which is scheduled to become home to the re-built Museum of London. This looks like a great project.<a href="https://museum.london/">(here)</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As of now, though, Smithfield's interesting in its brightly painted, semi-derelict glory, with a good selection of red phone boxes - I hadn't realised they came in different designs, but as you see, they do.</div><div>. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9FPfRabzj5PNjSJkeRj3E_sjRPn7Io2MxT7vqpIVEwsamJf6jEJqsav5xhi6NqKO9k2oRafp5K2wH_3mOydE_gNtM9oIOy8Y6fF7QjXCjFokVeVeDSa2huH4rbRdGrklrxi7IjqxwM58/s2048/smithfield.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1997" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9FPfRabzj5PNjSJkeRj3E_sjRPn7Io2MxT7vqpIVEwsamJf6jEJqsav5xhi6NqKO9k2oRafp5K2wH_3mOydE_gNtM9oIOy8Y6fF7QjXCjFokVeVeDSa2huH4rbRdGrklrxi7IjqxwM58/s320/smithfield.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">On our cycle ride home, we passed through a little back street near London Bridge, called Roupell Street. It was built about 1830 and I thought that 50 years ago would have been illustrating newspaper articles about slum clearance. Because it's<i> exactly </i>the kind of place which was knocked down all over Britain from the 1940s to the 1980s, Nobody wanted to modernise the little houses, and it was felt, quite rightly, really, that the impoverished people who lived in these dark, old little places (often infested with bugs and rats and without indoor sanitation) were entitled to something a bit better. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47CRuzzkOAT3ltfj1XggrmvOeOCfY78rhSDZ0MWW3bbmf0Nd9CD1KOuiX-Af2K3Fxl1IvQ5uRykWw6EnuGOGuwQmR2B_Ze0jJjE6JAkAZ9Sl24zhiX4Ku2yliYOHP0i9iwVeZbSvCK3c/s4000/IMG_8657.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47CRuzzkOAT3ltfj1XggrmvOeOCfY78rhSDZ0MWW3bbmf0Nd9CD1KOuiX-Af2K3Fxl1IvQ5uRykWw6EnuGOGuwQmR2B_Ze0jJjE6JAkAZ9Sl24zhiX4Ku2yliYOHP0i9iwVeZbSvCK3c/w640-h480/IMG_8657.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Interesting that these little houses, indifferently modernised, are now <a href="https://www.primelocation.com/for-sale/details/56340602/?search_identifier=2aa3d10e21779ffaa2ee8baad21bdf39">sold for about one and a quarter million pounds</a>. If you look at the link, you'll see that the estate agent's particulars include a photograph in which you can see a railway arch, and it is extraordinary to think that Gustav Doré's famous picture of the slums of London is thought to have been based on the district directly adjacent to Roupell Street. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7sQmd6HslYpjnG0kg8-pUg21tT9XWD6EoNdRhLKS9hgGRGo9m1BjwCeFw40pV6rNrY2fzU99Thvt6yKSR_Tnp8O84DW-dYYDSQfgDwu78zctJrCcbfHmMAihDfFMUWPf5IEGkMaGGSPo/s480/doree.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="388" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7sQmd6HslYpjnG0kg8-pUg21tT9XWD6EoNdRhLKS9hgGRGo9m1BjwCeFw40pV6rNrY2fzU99Thvt6yKSR_Tnp8O84DW-dYYDSQfgDwu78zctJrCcbfHmMAihDfFMUWPf5IEGkMaGGSPo/s320/doree.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">In Doré's time, of course, it's certain that Roupell Street did not boast a fancy cake emporium in that little corner shop shown in my photo. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">T and I have been watching an episode of <a href="https://www.channel4.com/programmes/graysons-art-club/episode-guide">Grayson's Art Club</a> every evening. Grayson Perry is such a good ambassador for the power of art, which he believes helps us become more ourselves and deal better with whatever life throws at us. <a href="http://jennywoolftravel.blogspot.com/2012/02/grayson-perry-and-spring-on-way.html">(Here's a post I wrote about him in 2012</a>. Gracious! Nine years ago!) He's prodigiously original and talented, and is also probably now very rich, but he has humility, and appears kind and approachable, and he does not mind if his guests are famous or not We also like that the programme offers glimpses of him working, as he does, in so many different media and shows how his ideas spill out of him.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> And, as always, I am happy it is Spring. I am enjoying my Spring bulbs on the balcony this year, and so I should. I managed to put in two orders of bulbs with the supplier, and so have more blooms than can really fit on the balcony, although I have put some in the front garden and on the front steps. It cost a fortune. I don't know if it was worth the money, but it is done now, and I am very happy to make the most of it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> These are this year's favourite narcissi. Behind them is a very large cherry tree at present covered in bright white blossoms. When the sun is on it, it looks as if there has been a snowfall. Even the twins were impressed, and both of them gazed at it for a while.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVD_dC9BbI5P7SQsZy3J7Ps9x90nbfDu4IuJZnUo5l3ZMgcY2I5LL9VMoT5HAsLJZNCSAaEtdQTJwZoj22THUXWI-T1rR8CW8gYX8FkbJ1l7pZSs66E70PP0B_jZjDKsjeCj-lSVJUQ68/s1664/narcissi-c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1524" data-original-width="1664" height="586" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVD_dC9BbI5P7SQsZy3J7Ps9x90nbfDu4IuJZnUo5l3ZMgcY2I5LL9VMoT5HAsLJZNCSAaEtdQTJwZoj22THUXWI-T1rR8CW8gYX8FkbJ1l7pZSs66E70PP0B_jZjDKsjeCj-lSVJUQ68/w640-h586/narcissi-c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Now I'm hoping that the freezing cold weather here in London will warm up a bit tomorrow so we can have a picnic with K, F and the twins in their garden. We are not yet allowed to meet anyone else indoors, though it seems rather silly to me, if people have been fully vaccinated. Still, I'm going to stick to the rule for a while yet, and see how the infection rates go. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Have a happy Easter Day, everyone! </div>Jenny Woolfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16881781466502273314noreply@blogger.com68