Wednesday: Chichester

Wednesday morning was beautiful; sunny and warm and just enticing us outside... we had a lovely English breakfast in the downstairs morning room, admiring the beautiful garden just outside the window, and went outside straight afterward... to clean the previous day's mud from the wheels of the pram.

On our way back from the Grand Hiking Adventure on Tuesday evening we'd passed the Fishbourne Roman Palace, so we knew exactly where to go to find it again on Wednesday morning. There's not a lot left of it now, but it's famous for some pretty impressive mosaic floors, which are still in situ, including a very large and almost completely intact one called Cupid Riding a Dolphin... just stunning.

They also have a Roman-style garden, with the proper aromatic and medicinal plants, and a museum, and the day we were there was the middle of Roman Army Week, put on especially for half-term, so there were squads of kids marching about dressed as legionaries and being roared at by large gruff men dressed as centurions; archery, spear throwing, etc (the great Asterix quote kept coming to mind - '...because my pilum is harder than your sternum').

Chichester is a very old town (well, really, show me an English town that isn't, Kathryn), the central part of which is still surrounded by ancient walls, and which is based on a very simple plan - four main roads in a cross shape; North, South, East and West Streets; with a beautiful rotunda marking the centre. Most of the buildings are Georgian, and there's also a lovely cathedral, parks, etc.

While there was a great deal we enjoyed in Chichester, the highlight was definitely the cathedral. Not only was it beautiful, interesting and impressive (including a window designed by Chagall), the church community obviously hadn't forgotten what it was originally built for, so we were warmly welcomed when we entered, and on the half hour, as apparently happens throughout the day, the vicar welcomed everyone over the PA system, and invited those who wished to join him in a short prayer and reflection. It had a very living atmosphere, in a way that ancient structures do not always have, and we both remarked on how much we enjoyed spending time there. And wherever we were in the town for the rest of the day we kept seeing the spire, over the tops of the other buildings.

Tuesday: Fishbourne

After early plans to get away this half-term were reluctantly ditched (asked to work next Wednesday and Thursday), and I said a reluctant goodbye to my £20 Rome flights *sob* I turned my attention to more local destinations. I hadn't really got much beyond the initial planning stages when Anita (yes, we've seen a lot of each other this week :D ) said that as Tom would be in Zurich on Tuesday night, she was thinking of going somewhere too, and why didn't we go together? I thought this was a fab idea (yes, 'fab'), and the destination was decided upon - Chichester, a gorgeous coastal town in West Sussex, about 90 minutes from London by train.

Upon arrival, we discovered that our B&B, a 16th century coach house on what used to be the only road from London to Portsmouth,

was not in Chichester itself, as we had thought, but in a little village (Fishbourne) about three miles out of Chichester town centre... at first we wondered if that was going to be a drawback, but upon exploring that afternoon, the verdict was definitely that it was NOT.

We stopped at the B&B only long enough to greet our landlady, and set straight out again into the blustery afternoon... following a public footpath down to the 'harbour' and passing a willow-draped millpond complete with ducks, straight off a chocolate box, we found ourselves on a very muddy and squelchy pathway passing through reeds higher than our heads. We could smell the sea and hear the gulls but there was no sign of water; however, nothing daunted, we continued, lugging Eddie's pram behind (good thing it's got four-wheel drive ;) ), and soon came out to find... this.

It's simply impossible to describe the atmosphere of that gorgeous place; it was wild and free and windswept and so alive, and somehow completely English, in its colours and sights and sounds. We just marvelled at the beauty of it.

It was too wonderful an evening to go indoors again, so after back-tracking to the mill-pond we went on in a different direction, along a narrow muddy path over the lowlands by the water (I want to say 'fens' because they looked like how I've always imagined fens to be, but I have no idea if that's the correct word or not). By this time we were heedless of mud on shoes and such paltry concerns, and hoisted Eddie, sitting happily in his pram, over stiles and hillocks without hesitation. After about forty minutes trekking through the ever-darkening landscape

we went across a field to the church, and came back round via the road. The Bull's Head (just across the road from the B&B) was a welcome sight, as was the venison stew and new potatoes and vegetables they served up to us; we sat in the lovely front bar for hours, enjoying the open fire and the atmosphere (and the wine). It was dark when we got back.

Monday: Bunhill Fields

Bunhill Fields is a cemetery in inner London, quite near Old Street, and located between busy roads on two sides and high-rise office buildings on the other two. Its central location doesn't detract from its peaceful atmosphere however.

All old graveyards are interesting to wander in, but this one especially so, as it's a Nonconformists' cemetery, and contains the graves of notable dissenters such as William Blake, John Bunyan, Daniel Defoe, Isaac Watts, George Fox, and Susanna Wesley, mother of John and Charles.

Anyway, Anita has a book which gives a lot of detail about the various people who are buried here, as well as maps and so on, and it piqued her interest, so on Monday (lovely and cool and drizzly) we met at Old Street and made our way down the block to the graveyard... you have to keep to the main paths unless you've made an appointment with a guide, but it was still more than interesting enough to look from the sides.

And as is so often the case, the lack of 'fine' weather was a bonus rather than otherwise; everything was grey and cool and still and mossy, and the rain which fell gently from time to time seemed appropriate.

Beautiful Autumn Days

I've been having SUCH a great time this half-term; I'm too busy doing things to write about them. :)


But I've spent quite a bit of time in Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens this week; on Monday, when it was cool and overcast and raining, on and off...

...and today, which was the most gorgeous and perfect cloudless and golden autumn day anyone could ever imagine or devise.

Enjoy these pics for now. And I'll be back soon with tales of Herefordshire and barn dances and 12th century ruined castles and apples eaten straight off the tree and market towns and Sussex and 16th century coach houses and Chichester cathedral and venison stew and open fireplaces and the future dalai lama and windswept reed beds and Roman palaces and more...
Intrigued yet?

Scrapbook: Porto

I went to Portugal in April - my first time in that part of the world - and enjoyed it SO much, I can't wait to go back again. The main reason for going was to visit friends in Lisbon, but I flew into Porto (partly because Ryanair doesn't fly to Lisbon, and partly because I wanted to see as much as I could in a short time), and travelled to Lisbon on the train.
Being without a laptop at the time, these photos stayed on the memory chip in my camera for months, and as a result, very few people have seen them.

After storing my bags in a locker at Sao Bento station (an adventure in and of itself) I found my way down the steep streets to the river front. The colours of the buildings were just magical and it was such a lovely place to wander. Everything seemed mega-cheap after London too.

I ate lunch in this restaurant, at the table nearest the river on the far left (I'd only been gone for three minutes when I took this picture and already someone's sitting there). It was the first warm weather I'd been in for months and months, as it was early spring when I left Australia, and I arrived in time for another autumn and another winter, so it felt wonderful to be in the sun. Plus, I'd taken a day off work to go - so I knew EXACTLY WHICH CLASS I should have been having, which made the experience all the sweeter. The teachers amongst you will understand ;)

So many of the buildings look like this! stunning architecture and gorgeous tiling on the outside... so many were run down and derelict though; it was distressing. I just wanted to buy them all and do them up; they'd be so beautiful. The only problem would be choosing which one to live in.

YUM YUM. Two of each, please :D

Sao Bento station, of the interesting locker room. Stunning atrium; I squeezed myself into a corner to get as much into the shot as I could. Interesting timetable too - being a reasonably organised and cautious traveller, before I'd set off anywhere I'd checked on the trains to Lisbon, and returned that afternoon to catch what appeared to be the third last of the day. Not so; it was the last, and I had to run for it. I caught it ok, but still don't know why the other two trains weren't running; double and triple checking of the timetable revealed no secrets.

This was in the city centre, at a place called Praca da Liberdade. I just thought it was beautiful.

Things I Love About Living in London

The weather. Some people moan on and on about it but it hardly rains at all, and when it does, it's very pleasant, soothing rain - hardly ever any storms - and an enjoyable experience on the whole. More enjoyable when tucked in beside the fire at home than out somewhere on a bike, of course ;) And the summers are so mild - pleasant to be outside! cool at night! imagine that... winter can be a bit grim from time to time, but snow's rare enough to be exciting, and it's never REALLY freezing (after experiencing temperatures of -32C in the Czech Republic I doubt anything will feel REALLY freezing again), and the autumn's beautiful and hazy and golden and the spring! oh, when the daffodils come out and the snowdrops appear it's like a rebirth; everything I see makes me think 'this green and pleasant land', an apt description if ever I heard one.

The Prince Charles Cinema, just off Leicester Square (see link to the right). What a find! Membership for £7 a year, then an average price of about £2 per film - as low as £1 if you go on Monday or Friday (other London cinemas charge anything between £6 - £12, depending on the session and the day). A gloriously over-the-top cinema, in red velvet and gold, a fantastic selection of films, and a great atmosphere - I love it.

Catching the tube. Yes, it still has its moments when it's as annoying as all hell - 'the Piccadilly Line has been suspended in both directions because of a suspicious package at South Kensington', or 'there are severe delays on the Northern Line because of a signalling problem' (HATE the Northern Line), but zooming about under this wonderful city, and getting pretty much anywhere so quickly is great, and I love looking at the map, and working out where to change, and I love seeing the familiar names - Piccadilly Circus, Tottenham Court Road, St Paul's, Covent Garden - that can still give me a thrill of 'I'm in London!' even after a year... and I love knowing where to stand on the platform so I'm in the perfect place at my destination, to walk straight off the train and up the stairs without even having to look. No tourist HERE.

The airports. OK, not the airports themSELVES, but the fact that they're there... Portugal for £12, Granada for £30; get away for four days and come back to work straight after; the closeness of so many places is amazing, especially for an antipodean who is used to everything being FAR. I haven't made as much use of the airports as I'd like, just yet, but give me time.

Broadway Market. The street itself is always good - SO many restaurants, and a fantastic pub - Frambozen, anyone? - but the farmers' market every Saturday is something else... it's not quite two years old, and it's round the corner, and it's GREAT. Fresh food - fruit, veg, bread of all descriptions (try the Irish Wheaten from degustibus; you won't regret it), meat (Dartmoor beef, venison, all sorts of patties and sausages - I'm partial to the pork, leek and apple myself), cakes, muffins, fish pie, quiche, the BEST dolmades in the East End... second hand clothing, hand made jewellery, shoes, everything of high quality and a great atmosphere. Plus we often meet our neighbours, or are greeted as friends by the stall-holders, which is a lovely feeling of belonging. A typical Saturday shopping list: Isle of Wight tomatoes (I like the santas), a loaf of bread (Irish Wheaten, as stated above, or spinach ciabatta), sausages or wild boar patties, some salady stuff, and, if I'm feeling peckish, a galette from the Frenchman's stall, cooked up on the spot - you can get sweet ones, but I prefer the ones with cheese, mushrooms and spinach. Then wander home with the paper to make coffee and sit in the garden. *sigh of contentment*

My lovely flat. Well, you've seen the photos, so it's not like this needs much further explanation... a beautiful space to live, a big garden just outside, the park just beyond that, my lovely new-old oak furniture in the living room, and the gorgeous cousins just upstairs... what more could one want?

Museums. Ahh, the museums!! I ring Anita; ask her 'Do you want to meet up?' Yes, she says; what about the V&A? so there we are, later that afternoon, in the beautiful atrium under the blown glass 'chandelier' sculpture, or browsing in the shop, or looking at a new exhibition or a gallery we haven't been in yet. We're both Friends of the V&A, so can go in and out of exhibitions as we choose, and it's a delightful way to become familiar with such a beautiful place. Plus we can sit in the members' room and feel all smug. And then there's the Tate - I LOVE the Tate - and the Royal Academy of Arts, and the British Museum, and the British Library, and the National Gallery, and... ok, technically they're not all museums, but they're interesting and old and beautiful and I love to visit them. And the ones I've listed are just the start...

It's London. If you've ever been here you'll know what I mean. :)

A misty morning

Autumn is on its way... we've had some cold days, but it's really remained quite mild so far, and all the plants in the garden are still growing - some are still flowering! But this morning we woke up to the beautiful mist enveloping everything, including the park, and it was the first time it LOOKED like autumn.

(NB The above photo is in colour ;) )

Of course, picking up seven or eight buckets of leaves out of the garden yesterday looked like autumn too... and that was after clearing it completely - about six buckets full - just on Saturday! Thankfully the council delivered our brown bin for garden waste about a month ago, so there is actually a place to put them all.

The park is always beautiful, but especially so in mist, and late afternoon sunlight.

Our garden has EVERYTHING

The Walled Garden

Unfortunately, with the demise of the first laptop back in February, I have no photos of the garden in its *ahem* natural state, ie filled with DIY rubbish and offcuts chucked at random out of upstairs windows and off the scaffolding, but here it is just after all that was cleared by our handy Rubbish Geezer (we're in the East End!! there's a geezer for EVERYTHING), and before we put all the plants in...

Here are all the plants ready to go in... a gardener friend of Bron's at her old college at Cambridge had had them all ready for ages, in pots, and Bron told me on the Friday that she was going to go and get them... I imagined a modest haul of half a dozen small cuttings, and arrived home to find Birnham Wood in the upstairs kitchen and dining room. Lots of classic English flowers; hollyhocks and roses and thistles and something he SAID were poppies but which sulked all summer long, sprawled all over the ground looking like weeds, and never putting forth anything that looked even remotely like a bud...

And here's the garden at the height of summer, when I was on holidays and able to make a daily or even twice-daily round, pulling up weeds and clover and watering everything and watching flowers grow and buds form and new growth all pink or light green and beautiful.

The transformation of the basement continued

The bedroom (door to the left as you come down the stairs) looks out onto the garden; there's a walkway right next to the wall of the house, and a retaining wall (about chest height) for the garden itself about a metre away. Means you look out right into the flowers...

The living room (door to the right as you come down the stairs) is almost a mirror image of the bedroom, with a window in almost the same place, looking out into a tiny courtyard (the only way out to it is to climb out the window), the railings, and the road, which is a junction of three ways at a small roundabout at that point.
We love the dear little purple fireplace in the living room; I have great plans for it at Christmas, especially after seeing garlands and berries and similar glorious Victoriana at the V&A shop last time I was there (and as a member - sorry, Friend - I get a 10% discount)...

Gah! Leonard Blue!!! you can see why it had to go, can't you...
The kitchen is round the corner to the left as you come down the stairs; you can see back across the hallway and a little sliver of the living room in both the shots above.

Garden next!! maybe ;)