The Big (Wet) Ride

Regular readers of this blog might know that I like cycling. It is the cheapest, healthiest and most fun way to get about, or at least it would be if the British weather was better and London was more bike-friendly. This picture shows a bike box on Waterloo bridge - a space where cyclists can get ahead of traffic. But can you spot the bike LANE?

The bike lane is in the little dark space between those two buses. Imagine when the traffic roars away and you're between the canyon-like walls of buses and lorries. There have been fatalities.

So on Saturday T and I decided to go on the London Cycling Campaign's Big Ride. It's aimed at convincing London's mayoral candidates that London needs to be as safe for cyclists as Holland. .

The D-I-S-G-U-S-T-I-N-G, rainy freezing weather hadn't deterred several thousand people from gathering in Hyde Park with bikes of all shapes and sizes.

including some that were downright odd

Many people brought their hardy little kids. This little girl has a huge red butterfly painted on her face, I don't know why. Perhaps "going to the facepainter" was a bribe to persuade her to sit in her cycle cape for 3 hours waving her London Cycling Campaign flag..

The fashionable child below not only had matching suit and accessories but was well prepared with a pink parasol too.

This one looked a bit quizzical. He and his brother were being pedalled along by their dad. Daddy must have the strength of a lion, at least if he takes them anywhere with hills in that massive rig.

This one is attached onto her mum's bike, and Mum has also attached a zebra to keep the child happy.

Many people came in fancy dress. The gentleman below picks up the Dutch theme. (I do approve of Dutch attitudes to cycling, but ... *whisper whisper* you just try driving in Amsterdam at night, with all those crazy cyclists whizzing along with no lights - terrifying...)

The brolly hat shown below seemed colourful and elegant, yet practical. Well, practical anyway. Or maybe just colourful.

This cyclist brought along loads of balloons and made himself a striking hat. Here you see him offering me a tiny balloon the size of a plum.

This man is riding a tandem around Britain with a skeleton on the back. He's cycling to raise money for academic scholarships and has an interesting website here.

(Sorry for the lousy pictures by the way, they were taken on my phone since my camera doesn't like water. )

Some people looked very interesting. A classic bike club came along - I admired this 1920's cyclists's hat.

And this man totally looks the part of "cyclist"

Lots of people liked the bike glimpsed below - it's made of bamboo. And what about those tattoos? one on each calf, AND fab Goretex bootees - think I'll get some of those boots.

The ride was very slow at first, with a lot of waiting around to get through traffic lights - it took about five minutes of waiting at each light, and we were towards the front. Goodness knows what it was like at the back where the crowds had really built up.

We went round Hyde Park, along Piccadilly, past Fortnum and Mason's food emporium, beautifully decorated for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee (I much prefer it to the Olympics, which are overshadowing it.) Those are the Queen's Beasts on Fortnum's facade. Click here if you want to know what the Queen's Beasts are)

We got wetter and wetter and wetter. These are my hands, going numb, cold water everywhere.

I snapped this patient, dripping little boy when we reached Trafalgar Square.

This participant had the inspiring slogan "Never Too Old" and a balloon to prove it.

The bobby on his bike kept a watchful eye on the proceedings. I've always thought it's a pity they don't issue them with policemen's cycle helmets, dark blue with a badge on the front.

There was a long fast run to Victoria embankment, the riders spread out and we ended up whizzing under an arch of red balloons, feeling glad we had made our point that the present system for bikes in London upsets and annoys everyone, and really needs to be changed.

We signed a petition ...

then T and I doubled back towards Waterloo Bridge (site of that awful cycle lane in my top picture).

We had to carry out bikes up four flights of stairs to get to the bridge, but it was worth it to get to the sanctuary of Somerset House with its excellent coffee shop. Below us on the Embankment, the cyclists streamed on towards the finish..

We decided to try and buy a teeshirt like this man's (below). In case you can't read it, it is modelled on a wartime poster which says KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON. The teeshirt designer has added one word, to make it say KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON CYCLING.

Anyway, if you want to vote for the most cycle friendly candidates in the London elections, it's recommended to put Green first and Labour second on the ballot paper. Whether I can bring myself to vote for Ken Livingstone, is another matter though....

Attention, Cats!

Remember to dip your headlights, and don't dazzle!

Couldn't resist this one! Thanks to @raubrey

While we are on the subject of cats, here's Henri, the existentialist cat. I have never been quite sure what an existentialist is, but Henri is certainly full of anomie, and if he could read I am sure he would read Jean-Paul Sartre. I bet he spends his time agonising about philosophical matters while lapping up a saucer of cheap wine.

Although the film is in French, I think it's a parody of a French genre by a foreigner (maybe a French person can identify the narrator's accent?)

And by the way I was tickled that on my last trip to Italy I bought my mum exactly that "Attenti ai Gatto" wall tile and she has it in her kitchen!

Not much travelling going on around here right now; it's all about weddings. K and F are choosing a wedding cake. It should be an eye opener since they're getting it from"Choccy Woccy Doo Dah" who do um, well, guess you'd call them post-modern, or super-baroque, or psychedelic cakes. Over-the-top, anyhow. She's said for years that if she ever gets married she wants one of their cakes! Here's one of the psychedelic ones, entitled "All You Need Is Love."

Meanwhile I have just noticed we're up to 297 followers - wonder who will be the 300th.

PS I have just read Meike's blog with a giveaway of her talented mum's hand knitted socks.

I am a total sucker for hand knitted proper wool socks so I'm taking the chance of an extra entry for linking. Even if I don't win, you should check out the blog, it's always interesting. So, here goes !

Best Places to Stay

The other day I was thinking about what makes a good lodging - or even a perfect one. I often read Tripadvisor, but these days I think there are too many fake reviews. So I wonder what you like about a hotel, inn or b&b?

Here are my thoughts, with links to places I specially liked. They're not EXACTLY recommendations, because places change hands and I visited some of them ages ago. But if you're going to be in the area, you might like to consider giving them a try! :)

I really love places in amazing surroundings.Purcell Mountain Lodge in the Canadian Rockies. was a once-in-a-lifetime trip, and I went in by helicopter because it's so far from any road. I've been to many wilderness locations but these huge vistas of imposing mountains, majestic and empty, really affected me. I don't have easy access to many of the photos I took - they are slides, and need scanning. But this picture will give you an idea of the scenery there.

(Photo: Ralph Maughan)

The lodge was a haven in the imposing but slightly alarming (to a city girl) landscape. All the guests bonded very well as a group and it was fun being with them. The food was great, the rooms fine, but the location was what blew my mind - like being in another world.

A differently lovely setting, and MUCH closer to home (about twenty miles from London in fact!) is Tanners Hatch Youth Hostel in Surrey, on the historic National Trust Polesden Lacy estate. When I first went, it had no electricity and no road access. It's a bit more up to date now but it is still gas lit and remote. You wake to the baaing of sheep and feel you've stepped back in time. It's lacking every sort of luxury (not even indoor toilets) but it's a huge favourite with kids and is always booked up. Here it is, on the edge of the wood. Can you spot this little black-and-white cottage amongst the Springtime trees? (oh, and I forgot to say, the woods are full of bluebells in May).

(photo: wossnim on Flikr)

Comfort. OK, Tanners Hatch doesn't qualify but usually it helps to have good lighting and good heating. I've been in too many places with dim, badly sited lights, and could have done without a stay in a Bavarian guest house not long ago when skies were dark and everything was covered in snow ... See the distant figures of T and little A, then 5 years old.....

The inn had been closed for weeks before our visit and the rooms didn't warm up for DAYS. We sat there in our outdoor clothes all evening while little A. slept. And l-o-ong evenings they were!

Friendliness. You can't expect the host to be always on top form - they might have just had bad news or be feeling ill, for instance. But I have good memories of the quaint old Barnacle Hall, near Coventry, Warwickshire, and The Old Bank in Marnhull, Dorset, and if you go there, I hope you find the owners as pleasant as I did.

Any traveller hopes to avoid lodgings that call to mind John Cleese's "Fawlty Towers." But once in a York b&b, I dared to turn the blaring radio down at breakfast, since we were the only guests. I didn't think anyone would mind. But the owner minded. "If you don't like my choice of radio station, you can go somewhere else next time!" he shrieked, turning the sound up again. (We did).

(photo: Orangecow.org)

On the other hand, the owners of one b&b in Florida were just a little too friendly and chatty for comfort, and in an unstoppable stream of information, they told us FAR more detail than we needed to know about how weird the neighbours were. We locked our rooms that night, I can tell you!

(photo: coolgallery.com)

Then there's Tea. Being English I always, always like a cup of tea, so a kettle, tea and preferably a snack, are a must in any lodging.

(Photo: Cindy Adkins)

At breakfast, those little plastic packets of jam and marmalade turn me off. No offence to the jolly little ones shown below (stock photo) but seeing plastic packs always suggests coloured blandness, not good flavoursome preserves.

(photo: www.21food.com)

I think Germans probably do the world's best breakfasts, with the best bread, the best variety. One of my most memorable breakfasts was in the moderately priced Park Inn in Berlin's Alexanderplatz. It's not that exotic, being a modern tower block in an ex-Communist square (below), but T and I actively looked forward to going to breakfast with its gorgeous mueslis and yogurts and fancy breads.

Outside Germany, take me to the breakfast at the Mauna Lani on the Kohala Coast, Hawaii. Not so much the breakfast for me (although it was good, with Japanese as well as American, like many Hawaiian hotels) but it was the beautifully relaxed atmosphere. Oh, and the blue sea, the balmy temperatures, the fresh pineapples....

(Photo: forbes)

I like fun decors. I don't have to live with them all the time, after all. Propeller Island City Lodge, (also in groovy old Berlin), is fun and mad for a night or two.

The Hotel Altstadt in Vienna, Austria is more traditional, decorated in a variety of old and new styles with some fine art works. I liked this room's gothic glamour.

(Photo: Altstadt Hotel)

We felt as if we were staying in a theatre set. (This hotel also has a good breakfast, and a salon with all-day free tea and cakes, too - very welcome in Austria's freezing winters.)

Delightful outdoor space is a plus. Plenty of nice contenders, but we remember the Chateau Marmont, on Sunset Boulevard, USA. We had the penthouse suite, with a massive balcony. This was some years ago (although Robert de Niro had already become a fan) and I don't know what it's like now but in those days the hotel reminded me irresistibly of the Tower of Terror in Disneyland (and I kind of liked pretending I was staying in a Disneyland ride).

.

(Photo: travelandleisure.com)

It was K's eleventh birthday (that is the K who is getting married soon!) and we had a celebratory champagne breakfast on this vast terrace.

If you're shocked by the idea of 11 year olds trying champagne, I should add that she and her friend were attending the French Lycee at the time, where it was considerd that kids needed to learn to appreciate wine at the knee of maman and papa.

Luxury hotels are often fabulous, but the less imaginative ones can be snobby and ultimately dispiriting. I specially remember a deluxe hotel in beautiful South Africa where my earrings were stolen by the woman making the beds. No amount of linen bedsheets, fancy bath soaps, personal butlers or super spa facilities could make up for having my privacy violated in this way. I decided not to report the loss, because I kind of sympathised with her. I know there's no excuse for stealing, but most of the staff lived in terrible shanty towns and it made me feel uncomfortable. I have felt this in several otherwise beautiful hotels in countries with much poverty and deprivation.

(photo: abroadview.org)

I love places that are unusual or special in some way, like the calm and spiritual (and modern) cathedral lodge in the grounds of Canterbury Cathedral. After the ancient gates have shut for the night, you can wander round and have the cathedral close almost to yourself. There's also a delightful library containing some thought provoking books in the lodge.

The mad and mysterious old Baron Hotel in Aleppo, Syria, is also memorable, with a dining room unchanged apparently since the 1920s, and ancient ad signs and photos on its walls for organisations that have long ceased to exist, like Pan Am, BOAC and Stephen's Inks, who provided this charming promotional thermometer on an outside wall.

Every now and then I don't make a note of a place's name, and then I regret it. One of my best ever lodging memories was of a b&b near Bath, England, which belonged to a woodsman and his family. It had a log fire, and wooden furniture (all made by the owner) and was surrounded by trees. The rooms were cosy, the food was delicious (and vegetarian), and, being winter, we really appreciated the roaring fire (wood fire, of course). I'm so mad I can't remember its name!

Do you have a favourite lodging anywhere in the world, and why do you like it? I'd love to hear about it.

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(PS. If anyone has concerns about the new Blogger interface, I found a useful url - click here for it. I think someone is coordinating the problems there are, hoping Google will take notice and address issues before removing the old interface. I'm having real problems working the new interface from my phone.

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So Exciting

There we were, minding our own business one blossomy day in Spring 2011,  when  T's mobile rang.  It was our daughter K, calling from Brazil.   It was wonderful news. She was calling to say F. had proposed.  And the wedding would be in late Spring, 2012.


We were delighted!   But late Spring 2012 seemed a long way away.


It's nearly here now, though. Just another few weeks. 


So exciting!

Making Money at Travel Writing, And Other Things

My dentist is such a kind, gentle person so I really wish I could stop unconsciously humming this song every time I visit. (I don't notice myself doing it, honest.) The receptionist gave me such a funny look as I was paying her today.

Anyhow, thought you might like to hear about a meeting I went to earlier this week, about how travel writers can earn money on the web.

We met at a restaurant called La Porte des Indes, just behind Selfridge's. The panel were travel writers who are managing to make a decent income with the help of the web, plus a nice lady called Debbie Marshall, who had many years in the travel trade before deciding to set up her own travel website dedicated to over-50s.

Here she is, and you'll see we were sitting under one of those beautiful canopies that maharajas used to use.

I found her talk very interesting, as it showed some of what you need to do to pull people to your site, if that is what you aim to do.

Above all, it seems, you need a "niche." Subscribers to her business, Silver Travel Advisor. are keen on travel, over 50 and have taken the trouble to register. That's a niche.

She spoke interestingly about forging links with organisations relevant to the site. Hers include the Royal Horticultural Society (RHS) which has a significant over-60s membership, and another is Age UK. Clever, this, because it generates reciprocal links from well used sites and pushes up her own site visibility.

Talking of the RHS, here's a picture I took recently at RHS Wisley just south of London (highly recommended, by the way). A robin had got into the houseplant shop. Little did it know that there were dozens of packets of bird food just a few feet away from where it sat,

Back at the meeting, other panel members discussed how to use Twitter, Facebook, Google+, Pinterest and numerous other social media to best advantage. They all agreed that Google ads are a bit of a waste of time, the pay-per-clicks don't even keep you in cups of coffee, and can clutter up your site. And sometimes they offer inappropriate ads for your garden-loving grannies too

(photo, adrants.com)

At the end of the evening, I am afraid that the message I had was, that writers who are not actually celebrities, and who love writing interestingly about different places and also making money, are continuing to chase ever-decreasing traditional media, at ever-dwindling rates of pay. Some are writing advertorials sponsored by travel companies, tweeting themselves into the grave, or doing variations of the same thing over and over again, wall-to-wall French gourmet breaks, endless skiing holidays, non-stop mountain biking.  

There is nice work around, though - it's a matter of finding it. I find the excellent TravelwritersUK consistently comes up with decent story leads that pay proper money. And certain long established, fact-packed sites with lots of links, like Pacific Coast Highway make money as part of a portfolio of its owner's travel activities.

But if you are an aspiring travel writer, and fitting yourself into a "niche," getting married to your computer and having Twitter as your best friend don't appeal, then the answer at the moment might well be "Don't give up the day job." Although I hope not.

Oh, by the way, Porte des Indes provided us with some good canapes after our meeting. Everyone loved the Dahi Puri, made with gram flour shells -finicky to make, and I think they were particularly classy ones. But I've found a home-made recipe here.which I might try

I also heard an interesting piece of gossip at the meeting about Stephen Fry, who famously has millions and millions of Twitter followers. One delegate recalls him visiting a very pricey shirt shop buying himself a shirt, and then going away and accidentally leaving a large package behind. When opened, the package was revealed to contain vast quantities of caviar, "about 1,000 pounds worth" said our informant, (although who knows where he got that figure. )

Not knowing how to contact Fry, they tweeted him to tell him where his caviar was. But he didn't reply, and never came back for the caviar. He can't read all his messages, of course, but I'd have thought he'd employ someone to read and respond. Unless he's spending all his money on caviar that is. :)

photo, stephenfry.com)

Signs

I'm stuck in my office most of this week, but thought you'd like to see some photos from a couple of weeks ago when T and I took a cycle ride along the Norfolk-Suffolk border.

One of the nicest things about England is how you need only go a mile or two, slowly, on foot or by bike, before you see something interesting. Throughout the day I was struck by the number of signs and notices that caught my eye.

First, a rather sad one. NO LEAD, ZINC ROOF, NO VALUE. The hand written sign outside this church refers to the tremendous bout of metal thieving at the moment. War memorials, electrical cables, church roofs - it's appalling, dangerous and disrespectful. I am not convinced by the government's reasons for its lack of action. Read more here, if you are interested.

The weather wasn't great, and I quickly regretted coming out without warm socks. In the small town of Bungay I spotted the hand-written signboard of Wightmans, the sort of old fashioned house and home store that I didn't think existed any more - the kind of incredibly useful shop that sells most things.

Some of the furnishings look to be 60 or 70 years old, and when I went in, several assistants were sitting in a row behind a counter, drinking tea. They were extremely helpful. And yes, they had the perfect socks!

Later that day, we found ourselves passing the somewhat eccentric Raveningham Centre, a converted old farm on a large country estate. This tin sign of a pub scene is one of many curious objects adorning their cafe, the "Ravenous Cafe."

"Woodbines" were renowned in my schooldays as ultra-cheap cigarettes that even children could afford. (Hm.)

The Raveningham Centre (check the link for their website) is a bit of a hippie throwback. It's centred on an ancient, farmhouse doing dual service as a ramshackle family home and home for antique rugs and various curiosities. There are vintage clothes in the outbuildings, and the funky, quirky cafe-shop-event space sells great cakes, freshest salad, and, of course, vintage signs.

I usually like visiting village churches. Many are hundreds of years old, and guard much of the history of the settlement in which they stand. Even if the villagers are not particularly religious, they usually treasure their church, as the village's special building.

Here, in the small village of Toft Monks, a large Royal Coat of Arms of George II (1683-1760)hangs above the main door. After 1660 it was compulsory to have coats of arms (known as "achievements") hung in churches, but over the years most of them have disappeared or been chucked out by modernizers. I love the lion's expression in this one. It's meant to be growling fiercely but it looks rather cute to me.

I'm sorry it's a bit dark.

A little further on, in the large church at Aldeby, this message is proudly scratched upon an inside wall

"THIS STEPLL WAS BELT 1633" Not the best spelling, but the steeple-builders of 1633 must have been glad to finish their task.

Just across the road, someone was selling home made marmalade, apples (in the carrier) and eggs. You put your money in the honesty jar. Just one goose egg was left, looking quite majestic alongside the recycled box containing free range hen eggs.

I bought the apples, which had been well stored, and I made a crumble with them next day - they were very good.

Most East Anglian villages have signs which show notable things about the village. This sign serves both Wheatacre and Burgh St. Peter, and includes portraits of a windmill, an East Anglian sailing barge, a Suffolk Punch horse and a very strange looking church.

The church was just across the fields. It looked odd in real life, too, with a ziggarat shaped tower and a beautifully thatched nave.

The weird tower is actually a mausoleum built by one Samuel Boycott, a big shot around Burgh St Peter in the late 1700s. Boycott decided to repair the tower and make it double as a mausoleum, and his design was supposedly inspired by an Italian church, but the church guide compares it to a structure of ancient Iraq. Either way, the local people probably weren't too impressed, but in those days the local gentry were not to be argued with so they had to put up with it.

I suspect the blanked out window is where they put the coffins.

Large slabs of stone standing upright next to a road can be milestones, or perhaps old prehistoric standing stone re-used by a local farmer. We saw several that were inscribed with runes. In each case, the incised lines of the runes had been painted red. There was no other explanation, but I assumed the stones were part of an art work. Flickr has some photos of "The Stones of Destiny" here so see what you think.

And then we came across a very large and obviously very old ruined castle. It was very picturesque, with sheep grazing around it, it was hard to get a good picture because it was all fenced off. This was where we really did need a sign. But there wasn't one!

Just a rusty old gate.

The trusty O.S. map identified the site as Mettingham Castle, so I looked it up when I got back, here. As you see, lots of public money has gone on conserving the ruins. Here's hoping that one day they will be open to the public.

By this time the weather had warmed up so we returned to Bungay and bought some goodies from the deli to eat as a picnic in Bungay's fine ruined castle, which is tucked away behind the town. I'm afraid I forgot to take a picture of the deli sign - but the food was great, and we felt we'd had a good day.