Tag: England

Lake District and Yorkshire Dales

July 6, 2023 /

Many hours spent looking at this picture

26-29 June – The Lake District – Phillip and Heather own a cottage in Underbarrow, a village in the Lake District National Park. They very kindly offered to take us up there for a few days, an offer we jumped at. As a child in primary school, we got a new set of coloured pencils each year. They were the “Lakeland” set, produced by the Columbia and Cumberland Pencil Company. I used to gaze upon the pretty scene of the Lakes District when things got boring in class and always thought it would be a nice place to visit. The brand is now called Derwent and is located in Keswick in the Lakes District. However, I notice from looking at a picture of the old pencil tins that mine were made in Lane Cove, NSW.

The Yorkshire Dales – We drove through some beautiful country along the way, across the Yorkshire Dales. These are wild and bare high hills, not really mountains, but massive nonetheless. They hold a beauty that is hard to describe, but best gleaned from the TV series All Creatures Great and Small. I am not sure I would want to live in such places, especially during the depths of winter, but driving across the Dales is a wonderful experience. The area markets itself on being “Herriot Country” and we stopped in a delightful small village of Askrigg to get a picture of Skeldale House, Siegfried’s house and surgery in the TV series. There was an old car as featured, parked out front, and looking like it hadn’t moved for years.

Yorkshire Dales and Skeldale House (All Creatures Great and Small)

Some of the roads we took were the one lane type common in rural Britain. Here though, getting too far to one side didn’t just contact a soft hedge, there were also dry-stone walls to contend with. Dry-stone walls are an art form across the country, the building techniques varying widely. The ones in North Yorkshire are the neatest yet, with beautifully stacked stones and a line of angled slate-like pieces as a topping. None of the beauty matters if the car is sent crashing into one by an oncoming vehicle. Heather had to brake sharply a number of times and there was a bit of backing up on both sides but we got through without leaving any bits of dry-stone on the car.

The sheep here are very different, mostly Swaledale, a breed of Yorkshire sheep known for their hardiness and meat more than their wool, which is rather coarse and off-coloured. They are a long haired breed and many that we saw had not been shorn, leaving them with long dags of wool and big bare patches where the wool had dropped out. I dubbed them apocalypse sheep because they looked like something out of a zombie movie. The lambs on, on the other hand, are pure cuteness.

A stop at the Wensleydale Creamery for cheese tasting and lunch was well worth it. There is a seemingly endless variety of cheeses on display, all freely available for tasting. We moved through the tasting room, sampling almost everything, except for the blue cheeses, which do little for us. The Wensleydale varieties were very good, and we bought a mild Wensleydale and an interesting Ginger flavoured cheese to have with drinks at the cottage. We were so filled up on cheeses that we kept lunch small.

A very rough representation of our trip. (Yes, I got a bit lost)

Lake District – Once down from the Dales we spent a brief time in the lower country before once again driving into the hilly country towards the Cumbrian Mountains of the Lake District. Britain does not have any high mountains by world standards but many contain enough bulk to be impressive and the geologically recent glaciation of the last ice age has left the valleys wide and rounded.

The cottage proved to be charming, with three comfortable bedrooms and a homely downstairs area. It is one of three dwellings in the building, it being originally a farmhouse and barn, but now converted. Christine never tired of looking out the back windows because they overlooked a field with sheep in it, better looking than the apocalypse sheep, and a few rabbits that loved to play around in the morning hours. She even announced that she liked washing up now because the kitchen overlooked the field. I might get some sheep and rabbits.

The cottage. Search “Orphan Crag” in AirBnB

Phillip and Heather kept us busy, proving the perfect tour guides. Unfortunately, the weather worked hard against them, with some cold and rainy periods. In fact, it was the worst weather yet encountered in Britain, but in a way it enhanced the beauty of the surroundings, producing some lovely mists and low cloud at times. We drove up to the nearby Scout Scar, a long limestone cliff. The scars are a feature of the area and help produce some of the amazing scenery. There is a memorial called the Mushroom on the top of the scar that has a feature showing all the visible features and mountains in a 360º arc. We could only see all but the tops of the highest peaks.

Views from Scout Scar

One day, we went on a tour to see a coupe of the lakes. What else would one do in the Lake District. The closest and largest is Lake Windemere. We drove along the eastern shore seeing the many small settlements and resort towns. The area was generally busy, despite the wet weather, probably with people from tour coaches who have had to go ahead regardless. The numerous watersport facilities were not getting much of a workout, although the temperature did not stop some people from swimming.

At the bottom of the lake, we turned to cross the Newby Bridge. As we passed the Newby Bridge Hotel, the sight of a carpark full of vintage cars caught our interest. We managed to find a parking space and wandered around the cars, admiring everything. The oldest I saw was from 1904. They were part of a rally and most owners were out getting ready for the day. A couple that had no form of rain protection were crying off on this leg. We talked to one couple who had a 1914 Paterson (USA). He told us that he had just purchased another Paterson from Brisbane and was having it shipped over (at horrendous cost). He indicated he had a few other cars and then confessed to owning 11 vintage cars all up. I asked about sourcing tyres for these cars and he said it was mostly off the internet. The ones for his Paterson are in the region of £500 each, and given that the current ones are well worn, it was time to sell the car. This is not a hobby I need.

Vintage car ralley

The next stop was Lakeside, where Lake Windemere empties into the River Leven. Lakeside forms a port for the southern end of the lake and there is a beautiful little steam train running down to the village of Haverthwaite. We rode the train, unable to resist a steam train ride. The carriages were 1950s vintage and done in the old traditional red and cream of British Rail.

The Lakeside to Haverthwaite steam train

We just did the ride down and back, before getting out and visiting the aquarium, next to the station. I assumed that the display would focus on the aquatic life of the local lakes, and although that was represented, there was a lot on display from many parts of the world. We particularly admired the sturgeons, huge fish to have in an aquarium, but only tiny compared to the potential 6m long for a full grown specimen. There was a very good display of the fish of the local marine environment in Humbolt Bay, with many kinds of dogfish, skate and rays. There were a few weird turbots, large white flatfish with both eyes on one side of their head. All in all, a worthwhile stop.

Big Sea Bass and Leopard Sharks

We drove back around and north along the shores of Windemere through Ambleside and up to the little village of Grasmere, on the shores of the lake with the same name. Heather waited in the long queue to purchase some of Grasmere’s famous gingerbread, unlike any other we have tried. It is more like a ginger toffee coated in loose crumbs than a biscuit, but it is quite delicious. Grasmere also boasts the grave of William Wordsworth who described Grasmere as “the loveliest spot that man hath ever found.” While Heather stood in line, we wandered through the Daffodil Park, along a unique pathway of flagstones, each bearing the family name and city of origin of people who donated to the formation of the park. It was very interesting, and we found a few Australian families. I thought this was a great way to create something special and it was very well done.

View from Brantwood over Coniston Water

The drive south took us along the shores of Lake Coniston and through the small town of the same name. By the time we reached home, we were exhausted, but no trip to the region would have been complete without a tour, even though one could spend years exploring the many nooks and crannies of this picturesque part of England. No wonder it is one of the big tourist drawcards.

On our last night at the cottage, we enjoyed a very nice meal at the local “Black Labrador” pub. I can see why the cottage has its attractions for Heather and Phillip. It is a slower pace of life, even though Newark is more downbeat than London. In the lake District, one never ceases to be in touch with nature and the weather, and, in my opinion, is one of the keys to a life of contentment. That connection is being eroded through city life and a reliance on media to supply all our emotional needs. Get outside and live, I say.

We only covered a small part of the extensive Lake District

Huddersfield – On our drive back to Newark, we detoured a little to take in the West Riding of Yorkshire to see what we could find of the area that my father came from. My grandparents, aunt and father came to Western Australia by ship in 1927 from Huddersfield. We had information on where they lived prior to leaving, a house that the family had occupied for around 20 years. Along the way, we stopped at “The Hinchliffe” a pub in a village called Cragg Vale to take some pictures. The house itself was not as easy. The place has been built over by a large factory or mill, and it looks as though that is being prepared once again for redevelopment. Heather researched the old maps of the area and we found that the house would have been on the edge of a railway marshalling yard, which was obviously redeveloped to a factory of sorts sometime after 1929. So we found nothing definitive, but we still got the feeling of a few ghosts of family past.

As near as we could ascertain, this is where my grandparents and father lived. The rail tunnel would probably have been there.

Our final stop was at “Hinchliffe’s Farm Shop”, passing through the locality of “Berry Brow” the name of the Palmyra house my mother lived in as a child. This has always been considered an odd coincidence in our family, as Mum’s family had no Yorkshire connections. Hinchliffe’s Farm Shop is a big concern, selling an amazing array of fresh farm produce with an attached restaurant. It boasts being the first farm shop in Britain, the original business starting off in 1929 selling and delivering fresh eggs. We asked one of the butchers for any history of the business and were given a pack of brochures. He said they get quite a few Hinchliffes through from many parts of the world but were the first Australians he knew of. We had a meal at the restaurant and headed off, feeling that we had done as much as we could to trace the roots.

The Hinchliffe Arms and early farm shop truck

 

 

 

York and Hull

June 28, 2023 /

The Tay Rail Bridge

14 June – Dundee to York – The train trip to York was definitely one for enthusiasts. For a start, it ran on the Northern Line, the famous route between London and Edinburgh that was the source of much rivalry in the Golden Age of Steam, with the famous Flying Scotsman being the hero. We crossed two huge bridges, both considered engineering wonders in their time. The Tay Rail Bridge out of Dundee crosses the Firth of Tay with a length of 4.43km. It was opened in 1887, after the first one collapsed in high winds, taking down a train and everyone on it. The second major bridge is across the Firth of Forth to Edinburgh, with a length of 3.97km. This iconic cantilever bridge was named voted Scotland’s greatest man-made wonder in 2016. It was no steam train for us, unfortunately, but the new LNER Azuma train was fast, quiet and comfortable.

York Station is a sight to behold. It is the most impressive to date, not for its grand entrance or surrounds, but for the huge arching roof made of beautifully engineered steel girders. When it opened in 1877, it was the World’s largest. Its beauty is enhanced by the long sweeping curve of the platforms.

Views of York, with the rail station at top left

Out of the station, we were faced with the old city walls, dating originally from the Roman era, but mostly built in medieval times. There are 80% intact, and walking along the top from gate to gate is a popular tourist pastime. The walk to our apartment was beautiful, across the lovely stone Lendal Bridge as it crosses the River Ouse and through another gate in the wall called the Bootham Bar. Our first floor apartment was just down the road from Bootham Bar and proved spacious and comfortable. Even better, there was a Sainsbury’s within 100m and the Bootham Tavern even closer We unpacked, bought a few supplies and made our faces known in the tavern. Before retiring for the evening, we took a stroll around the immediate neighbourhood, admiring the many quaint little shops with display windows full of curiosities. It was a terrific location to be in, and a welcome change from staying a bus or tram ride away from the city centre.

The Bootham Bar and city walls. Our apartment is down the street lower left.

15 June – York – The day was spent walking the streets, and city walls. We completed two of the four sections of walls, from Bootham Bar to Monk Bar then later, Lendal Bridge to Mickle Gate. The wall is arranged with a parapet on the outer side and an iron balustrade on the inner side, but there was a long section that had no iron balustrade. Christine did not like this one bit, but was very good about it, and successfully negotiated it without plunging over the side. The great joy of York is discovering charming little shops, many of Elizabethan design, tucked away in lanes and alleyways. The towering York Minster seems to dominate the skyline wherever you are, totally changing in appearance as each new perspective is gained. Our walking app suggested a historical pub walk, and even though we didn’t follow it, we did come across a lot of the really old taverns and inns listed, including the Snickleway Inn, Ye Olde Starre Inne and The Royal Oak. Some of these date from the 15th Century and all purported to have one or more resident ghosts.

Views of York Minster

We were starting to think about lunch when we passed a place selling meals based around Yorkshire Pudding, so we were hooked. We shared a large pudding with pork, potatoes and gravy. To be honest, it was underwhelming. The pork and gravy was delicious, but the Yorkshire Pudding did not meet our expectations, certainly nowhere near as good as my mother’s, which came from my Yorkshire born grandmother.

By the time we were done for the day, we had covered more than 10km and were ready for a break.

16 June – York – We set out a little later in the day than usual, headed for the National Rail Museum, up the hill behind the station. This free entry museum consists of a large covered enclosure that houses a huge railway turntable and various locos and carriages parked on the spokes of the turntable. There are some wonderful trains, dating from a true replica of George Stephenson’s Rocket in 1829 to a Japanese Maglev train. One locomotive that really held my attention was a cutaway, with the insides of the boiler, pistons and firebox exposed to show the inner workings. I love that kind of stuff.

We strolled around admiring carriages and engines, chatting to a few other visitors, including another Aussie woman from Melbourne and generally enjoying a chilled time in a wonderful environment. Apparently, there is often far more to see but a half of the facility was closed for refurbishment. We found enough to satisfy us.

We hopped aboard a cute little “Road Train” that would take us back into the city and drop us at the York Ministry. From there, we walked through to the beautiful Museum Gardens, overlooking the river and holding the interesting ruins of St Leonards Hospital and St Mary’s Abbey. Finally, we headed to the Bootham Tavern to watch a bit of Test Cricket over a pint. There was another Aussie couple from Adelaide, and we spent a terrific couple of hours comparing notes, admiring the Australian batting prowess and sinking a few lagers, before grabbing some food from the Sainsbury’s and heading home to collapse.

17 June – Hull – A trip to the nearby city of Hull was planned to catch up with Sally, niece of a friend in Perth. Officially, Hull is called Kingston upon Hull, the Hull being a river flowing into the large Humber Estuary on Britain’s east Coast. It was about an hour’s train journey south of York. With Sally having only limited availability, we spent the morning exploring the small city. Over 90% of the city was destroyed during WWII, because it was a strategically important port, and so there are relatively few old building of great merit, and quite a few modern glass and steel structures. The two blend together well in Hull, and the central part of the city is interesting to wander through. The huge Humber estuary  and marina areas add interest to the town, although the very low tide left the River Hull as a winding sludgy mud path.

The town has an old quarter, with quite a number of Georgian style houses and commercial buildings. There is also a museum quarter, housing the main Hull Museum, the Street View Museum and the William Wilberforce Museum. All are free to enter and adjacent to each other, making a great place to go if you have the time to browse all three. We only admired William Wilberforce’s home from the outside, lacking time to go in, but his prominent place in the abolition of the slave trade is worth recognizing. The Street View Museum was wonderful, being composed of a series of recreated 19th Century streetscapes and shops, along with a lot of transport pieces from the 19th and 20th Centuries. We wandered the streets and soaked up the charming atmosphere, so quaint and quirky. The reality is that we would have been avoiding horse dung, pushing through household refuse and choking on the highly polluted air, but the presentation of the sanitized view of Victorian life was worth the experience.

The Street View Museum and William Wilberforce

We found the right bus and caught it out to the area where Sally lived, spending a lovely time filling her in on how things are in Australia for her aunt, before she drove us back into the train station for our return to York. Not much more remained of the day other than another trip to the Bootham Tavern, where we were in danger of being called regulars.

York has been one of our favourite British towns to date, partly because of the excellent location of our accommodation. There is so much to see and admire and so many wonderful little nooks to explore it is a must for any traveller to England. Tomorrow, we move to Newark on Trent.

Westbury, Salisbury, Portsmouth and Bath

May 28, 2023 /

15 May – London to Westbury – We had the system pretty well worked out to get to Paddington station using a bus to Slone Square then the Circle Line Underground to Paddington. It is ironic, but not unusual, that we now have a workable understanding of London Transport to use it effectively, and we are skipping town. It always happens. We had given ourselves plenty of time so we bought some sandwiches at Paddington Station and found a place to sit and wait. Christine was feeling a bit unwell anyway and I had a sore throat from the previous day. A RAT the day before had proven negative but we did start to worry a bit so we did the right thing and wore masks in the shops and train.

The journey to Westbury, in Wiltshire County, was beautiful, through rolling hills and quaint villages. The use of hedgerows as fences makes every farm a picture, and the spring plantings were all growing well. The canola is already in flower and most sheep in need of a shear. Some of the villages we passed through looked like they were out of a model train set, with really quaint railway stations and thatched cottages.

Our apartment was too far from the station to walk so we grabbed a Pete’s Taxi, that was waiting outside. In deference to the driver, we donned masks, by now thinking we probably had Covid. He was a chatty bloke who knew the address we gave him because he once stayed there before he moved from Southampton. Our apartment is an annex to the main house on the edge of a newish estate of detached houses in Westbury Leigh. The estate could be pretty, but every house looks the same and there are no trees to speak of. There are not even many lawns, with most electing to pave their yards. The roads are a twisting mess, as though someone dropped cooked spaghetti. It creates one of those crazy suburbs where you might have to walk 700m to visit you back fence neighbour.

Around Westbury Leigh and our little annexe.

We settled in, gave the place out tick of approval, then took a RAT. Damn, both positive. And both feeling it (not too bad, but certainly like a cold). We put the masks on and walked to the local Tesco to stock up on food. Christine let the owner of our AirBnB know, but she wasn’t concerned, saying that people had ceased to worry now and some even went to work.

16-17 May – Westbury Leigh – We had a couple of days lying around watching television and feeling sorry for ourselves. Christine actually felt ill and got a cough whereas I had a bad attack of the nose runs and much less of a cough. I took a few short walks around the neighbourhood, working out about the local trains to Salisbury or Bath and generally breathing some fresh air. It is annoying to finally get Covid, but at least we are somewhere for a week and can take the time to get over it.

We did take a long walk to the Aldi in Westbury to get access to a better range of goods. Once out of our new estate, the walk was really interesting, with a range of houses of varying ages. Our walk took us alongside the high stone walls of a military establishment, quite heavily wired off and listed as an officer selection facility.

The couple of days of feeling poorly passed with a lot of binge watching of series and lazing around. Eventually, we started to feel better and tested negative the next morning.

18 May – Salisbury and Portsmouth – We took a train into Salisbury, about 60km away, to pick up a hire car. Unfortunately, there are none available in Westbury or even Bath, so Salisbury it was. The local train are diesel railcars operated by Great Southern railways and are fast and comfortable. Our closest station, Dilton Marsh, is little more than a siding, and you have to hail the train as it’s not a regular stop. We watched some other trains hammer through the station and wondered how we would ever get ours to stop, but when the right train came, it was going slowly enough to easily hail it.

There is a rule in play if you have a residual cough from a cold or Covid. As soon as you enter a crowded space, you feel the urge to cough. No matter that half the others on the train are coughing anyway, it feels so awkward. The train rolled through some really picturesque surroundings, called the Salisbury Plains, but not all that flat. The underlying ground is white chalk, and there are quite a few “chalk drawings” carved into the hills around the district, including a white horse overlooking our town of Westbury. Near Salisbury, there is one called the “Rude Man”, and outline of a man who is somewhat well endowed.

Once at Salisbury, we jumped in a taxi to find the U-Drive outlet. The driver was a fun guy, pointing out lots of sights as we drove through the lovely city. I saw a Cornish Bakery flash by and he promised us the Cornish pasties were excellent.

Our car was ready, a cute little Fiat 500 Hybrid. It seats four in theory but I can’t really see it. However, it was just the thing for tight manoeuvring and parking, not to mention the 4L/100km fuel economy. It did have a few issues when we came across a big hill at 120km/hr on the motorway but it had 6 gears to play with. I found it a little bit off-putting to have everything in miles, the speedo, the road signs etc. It took me back to my early years of driving, before we went full metric. Christine can’t cope, quoting everything as kilometres, even though the maps are in miles. I actually had trouble giving the car back after three days of driving it.

The plan was to leave exploring Salisbury until we had to return the car, and spend the afternoon in Portsmouth, another 50km further south. The main attraction there was the Naval Dockland Museum, which houses HMS Victory, Nelson’s 100 gun flagship from the Battle of Trafalgar. I have always wanted to see it and to explore below decks. As well as Victory, there is the Mary Rose, Henry VIII’s great ship that sank in the Solent back in 1545 after a fight with the French. The wreck was recovered in 1982, along with the greatest collection of Tudor age artifacts ever found. The third big attraction is the Warrior, built in 1860 as the largest and most powerful warship in the World.

Navigation to the Historic Dock area of Portsmouth was easy, save for the last few blocks to correctly locate the parking area, and we were soon into the grounds. We purchased a 3 attraction ticket, allowing us general access and each of the three ships we were interested in. The ticket are valid for 12 months, not that we could take advantage, but it did mean we could do one or two today and come back later for the third. That idea proved a winner because after doing the Mary Rose exhibit, we were stuffed and decided to come back for the other two.

The Mary Rose is amazing for the science behind the preservation of the timbers. The ship lay on one side, the lower half quickly covered in silt, and so preserved over the years. The exposed side succumbed to the elements. The recovery effort involved digging under the half hull and lifing the entire thing, eventually housing it in a specially constructed atmosphere controlled environment. The chamber is air-lock controlled to keep humidity low. The basic hull structure and construction can be clearly seen. I still have trouble fully comprehending the enormity of human effort it took to construct a ship of the size of the Mary Rose back in the 16th Century. Henry VIII is also responsible for the destruction of enormous tracts of English oak forests in the pursuit of naval power over France. The artifacts taken from the wreck cover all aspects of ship board life of the times. Even some of the clothing is preserved, especially leather shoes. Being a ship of war, there are weapons galore, more varied than later ships like the Victory, because in 1545 war at sea was more a matter of ships coming together and men fighting hand to hand rather than standing off and blasting hell out of each other with huge cannons. The display was superbly supported with audio visual presentations, although the low light conditions, done to help the preservation of the artifacts, got a bit hard to handle at times.

We emerged from the Mary Rose exhibit and knew that we were done for the day. After a cup of tea, we had a bit of a wander around the wharf area of Portsmouth before going back to the car. A stall selling seafood trays attracted out attention, for its quirkiness. Instead of the usual fare, it was whelks, pippis, mussels and lots of things labelled as “imitation”, such as lobster, prawn or crab. The signs pointed out that the imitation seafoods were indeed, processed fish soaked in juice of lobster or something else. We passed. Across the road, a couple of quaint medieval style inns were doing a good trade, as they must have done back in the day when Portsmouth was the hub of the Royal Navy. It is easy to picture the bustling life of the docks area back at the height of the Napoleonic Wars, with provisioners and suppliers all cashing in on the lucrative naval supply contracts. It would not have been the place to be wandering around idol, as the press gangs roamed freely ready to snatch up any available looking man for service with His Majesty.

The old and the new sit well together in Portsmouth

Back to the car, we consulted Google Maps. It told us it was a 114km drive through Salisbury or 140km via the A303 bypassing Winchester, but a quicker drive, owing to traffic snarls through Salisbury. We opted to go via Winchester. Although we didn’t have any actual traffic jams, the drive seemed endless. We seemed to do 100km/hr most of the time but the trip still took 2 hours. Our drive did take us past the famed Stonehenge. First we passed a camping area, about 8kms before the actual site. The camping area looked like something out of a Woodstock movie, with many tarpaulin covered old tents. I picture lots of flower power type people getting ready to worship the summer solstice or some such thing. When the A303 ran past Stonehenge itself, the traffic was in a slow phase, and we got a really good chance to look at it. We had planned to visit on our way down to Salisbury in a couple of days but after driving past, we decided we had “been there done that”. It honestly looked like little more than a few rocks in a field. You can’t actually walk amongst the stones or touch them. The £21 per Senior fee gives you access to the Visitor’s Centre and a bus to the vicinity of the stones. We were happy with our view from the A303 and the £42 in our pocket. We have never been to the life size recreation of Stonehenge in Esperance, WA, but it is now on our visit list.

19 May – Bath and Frome –  Bath is about 25km from Westbury. We planned out a route to a parking station just over the river from the town centre, leaving a short walk. The drive was beautiful, often along tree covered roads, or bypassing stately manor homes and fields filled with sheep. We reached a point where we had to descend a long steep incline as the road wound down into the valley forged by the River Avon. The scenery was breathtaking. If there had been a convenient place to stop, I would have, but the speed limit was only 35km/hr for most of it so I was able to admire the view as well. Bath itself presented on the other side of the valley, everything clearly outlined because almost every building is constructed of a pale coloured sandstone, so the town limits are obvious against the bright green of the surrounding hillsides. The houses we passed were mostly beautiful Georgian or Victorian architecture.

Having located the car park, we strolled across the North Parade Bridge, stopping to admire the famous Pulteney Bridge upstream. Built in 1774 by the Pulteney family to service a new town across the river from Bath, the bridge is not only beautiful, but said to be one of only four in the World that have shops on each side. We have seen the Ponte Vecchio in Florence and the Rialto in Venice so we now have to go to Erfurt in Germany to see the Krämerbrücke if we want to complete the set. The appeal of the Pulteney Bridge is enhanced by the wonderful arch shaped weir in front of it. From the rear, the bridge is close to ugly, all the work being put into the downstream side. We waked along the river bank to the Pulteney Bridge. On the bridge itself, it looks like just another part of the street, with quaint shops lining each side, and no hint that you are on an actual bridge.

The Pulteney Bridge and Weir

We walked down to the river where there was a small tour boat operating and picked up a 1 hour return cruise up the Avon. The cruise goes upstream to the little village of Bathampton, where another weir bars further progress. Along the way, we admired the many lovely houses dotting the banks, most with little boat houses or even barbecue spots near the river bank. The houses themselves were built well up the bank, apparently due to the size of the floods than can occur in big winters. We leant that there are five Avon Rivers in England. The word is an ancient Celtic term that means river, so the Avon River is the River River. Moreover, there are scores of Avons scattered across the Commonwealth of Nations. Technically, the one we were on is the Bristol Avon, because that is where it enters the sea. The banks are in excellent condition, carrying a lot of vegetation once away from the houses. We were told there are otters and kingfishers on the river, both signs of a healthy waterway, and many species of fish live in its waters. At Bathhampton, we could see the old waterwheels that used to operate mills and admired a couple of country inns that are said to be very popular on weekends. The bridge across the river at Bathampton is a privately owned toll bridge, charging £1 for cars to cross. Handling over a million cars a year, it is a nice little money earner for the owners, but it also has the effect of reducing traffic in the picturesque village, which would otherwise be overrun on weekends. It was a lovely cruise and well worth it.

Back in Bath, we walked the streets, pausing at almost every vista. Every building is a masterpiece, and the fact that much of the central city is walking only means that the streetscapes are easily admired. Christine was chasing a place that sells knitting wool, needing a ball to finish some socks. We enquired at a department store and were directed to a charity shop a round the corner. That drew a blank too. The bath Guildhall Market is a charming collection of stalls housed in a beautiful indoor setting and the first thing I saw on entry was a stall filled with balls of wool. Christine was in heaven. Wool secured, we walked on, into a large square, where we could admire the Roman Baths, after which Bath gets its fame. The Romans established the baths in 60AD, but it was in the 18th Century that it became the place to be seen in English society. The square is also dominated by the glorious Bath Abbey.

Bathampton

Walking down an alleyway, we came across a Cornish Bakery. The display of Cornish pasties was extremely tempting. Christine declared she couldn’t eat a whole one and suggested sharing, a logical, if not unfortunate thing. I now have a new standard in excellence. Filled with lamb chunks, potato and carrot pieces, with lashings of pepper, it was superb. I could have eaten a whole one.

We made our way back to the car park, thrilled with our short visit to this beautiful city. It is one of the prettiest central city areas we have ever been in, full of history, and wonderful architecture.

We drove back up the hill, once again admiring the glorious houses lining the main street, although not relishing living on such an incline. With the GPS set for the town of Frome, about 20kms away. Smaller than Bath, Frome was once the largest town in Somerset before Bath became the society capital of the county. Google Maps took us into the centre of town, set deep in a valley, and it was obvious that parking was not going to be an easy thing. While Christine searched for a solution, I had no choice but to go with the flow and drive up the other side of the valley and get lost, trying to turn around. Eventually, we made it part way back down the hill and found a street that had parking available. It looked as though we could use a series of alleyways to wind our way down to the town centre. Our complete lack of planning proved a winner. We soon found ourselves walking down a couple of gorgeous narrow streets, filled with all manner of interesting shops, including a wool shop. It was a charming walk down, better than the main street itself. We walked around for a while, admiring the town, exploring the little side streets and lovely shops, until the threat of rain and dropping temperatures signalled an end to the day’s wonderful weather. We made our way back up to the car and set a course for home, the end to what was one of our best days of the whole trip.

Frome was very cute

20 May – Porstmouth and Salsibury – Planning for the day included dropping the car back in Salisbury by 5:30pm. We set out early enough to get us to Portsmouth for the opening of the Naval Docks at 10am, stopping along the way to top up the little fuel tank. It is a good thing that the car doesn’t use much in the way of petrol because it was £1.45/L ($A2.72), not the kind of expense we could handle for long with the kilometres we do in Australia.

The first exhibit we visited was HMS Victory. It is still a commissioned naval ship, and at 245 years of service, is the oldest in the World. Following the Battle of Trafalgar, it was repaired, then left at anchor in Portsmouth until 1922, when it was dry-docked.

Nowadays, the Victory is undergoing major restoration work. The hull timbers are in a condition that would mean the collapse of the vessel without intervention. A 20 year project is well underway to scrap the timbers back and treat them in a way to preserve and strengthen them. The props that hold the hull up are computer controlled, to automatically adjust to relieve stresses and strains. Unfortunately, this means that a large canopy has been erected over all but the bow and stern, and the masts have been taken down. I would have loved to stand on the quarter-deck and look down across the sweep of the main deck and up at the masts and rigging. Oh well, it was not to be.

HMS VIctory a few years back when she could be seen in all her glory

We boarded the ship into onto the gun-deck, one layer down. This is where all the big guns were used, and the sounds and turmoil must have been horrific. Each visitor is given a personal audio guide, the best we have encountered on any tour. At each station, you simply point the device at the station, wait for the beep, then hold the device to your ear. This means that you are in charge of the timing of the audio. It was a mixture of factual information and a re-enactment of the events leading up to and during the Battle of Trafalgar. As we moved through the vessel, up onto the main deck, into captain Hardy’s day cabin and down into the very depths of the huge ship, we really felt as though we could understand what life was like for the 800 crew who manned the vessel. Some of the facts presented were amazing. All of the many glazed stern windows were removed prior to joining battle to prevent flying glass shards. It took 200 men 2 hours to raise the anchors. The giant capstans were below decks and the enormous anchor ropes (cables) ran the length of the gun-deck.

It was particularly moving to stand in the spot on the quarter-deck where Nelson was shot. The audio gave an emotional description of how he was carried below to the surgeon, his faced covered on his instructions so that the crew did not know he had fallen. It took Nelson another four hours to die, his spine shattered by the musket ball.

From the Victory, we had a cup of tea in the boat shed, home to many craft in the throws of restoration, then moved on to the Warrior. It was amazing to see the progress made in naval ships in the hundred years between Victory and Warrior. The latter is twice the length of Victory, although only slightly beamier. The most startling thing was the head height below decks. No more stooping to walk, or banging heads on overhead beams. The warrior was spacious, including the accommodation for crew. With a combination of steam and power, she could manage 17 knots, a very fast rate in those days. Although carrying fewer guns than Victory, she had far greater fire power, with 10 of her guns being modern explosive shell firing type, rather than a solid iron ball. Warrior was built to counter the French build up of naval power, but never actually saw any action, serving during one of Britain’s more peaceful times.

HMS Warrior

Unlike Victory, warrior is still afloat, her steel hull being impervious to the marine worm that was Victory’s undoing. I climbed down to the depths of the engine room, to inspect the massive twin steam engines, looking remarkably well preserved. The whole ship looks in great shape, as though she could set sail tomorrow. It certainly presents an imposing sight overlooking Portsmouth Gun Quay.

All shipped out for the day, we made our way back to the little seafood stall on the quay that sold collections of unusual stuff. The man was just putting up a sign saying he was out of whelks and octopus, but we ordered a mixture of what ever else he had. Well, it was certainly different. Served cold with some chunks of tiger bread, the bread was the star of the day. The jellied eel was the next best, but the rest of the fare was very ordinary indeed. Still, we had to try.

Back in the car, we made our way back to Salisbury, mostly on the M27 motorway. By the time we got there, it was 3:30, so we figured it was best to return the car rather than find somewhere to park and then have to watch the time. We had booked 6:40 train tickets back to Dilton Marsh so we had 3 hours to explore Salisbury.

From the U-Drive, we walked towards the spire of the cathedral, visible anywhere in Salisbury. It marked the start of one of our GPS Walks on the phone so we followed a marked route for a while, reading about the various features we encountered. The cathedral was one surrounded by a fortress wall, and the enclosed area and various gates are quite marvellous. The cloisters too are very beautiful. We spent a while just sitting in the grounds, along with a good crowd of people picnicking or soaking up sun.

The city centre is a delight, full of medieval buildings and quaint shops or square. The Avon River (a different one to Bath Avon) splits into three arms as it makes its way through the town, so there are lots of pretty little stone bridges. We stopped on one to watch a guy peeling bits of bread from his roll and dropping them into the water, a huge trout appeared from nowhere to engulf the bread. The water was crystal clear and flowing fast, but it was pretty much impossible to see the fish until the bread hit.

We walked on to wards the station and found a small pub aptly called the railway Tavern nearby, deciding to spend some wait time having a beer.  It was one of those places where everyone knew everyone (except us of course) and every word seemed to start with F. Still, the beer was cheap and the surroundings comfortable.

When we got to the train station, we asked about getting off at Dilton Marsh, because it is not a regular stop. We were told to advise the conductor, and to tell him before getting on the train. The train pulled in and we searched in vain for the conductor. It was only two carriages so I fifured he would be easy to find and climbed aboard, turned around, and Christine had vanished. I got off again, and saw her up the platform and called to her. I got back on, turned around again to find her sprawled on the deck. In her haste, she had tripped. The rail staff rushed over, most concerned and we got her up, bruised and scraped, but still mobile. It was a close call. As the conductor was checking our tickets, he noted that we needed Dilton Marsh, so we felt safe from the horros of the train charging through our stop.

When we did get off, we were joined by about ten others anyway, so we need not have worried. We often overthink things.

21 May – Westbury – Our last day in County Wiltshire. We actually did little, other than a long walk into town to the Aldi store. Christine has finished her Vegemite. Web sites say that Vegemite is available in most big supermarkets in England, but we have tended to be near smaller Tescos, Aldis or the like. Aldi did have a Marmite clone, that she decided to try, declaring it not as nice, but tolerable. I actually thought it was better than Vegemite, although I wouldn’t tell Ash Barty that.

Tomorrow, it is off to Cardiff.

 

London, May 2023

May 21, 2023 /

10 May – Brussels to London – We did not have to leave the apartment until 11am and our train to England was timed for a 1pm departure so we were afforded a leisurely pack-up. Christine proved just how leisurely it was by falling in to a deep sleep after the packing was done. I sat and watched stuff on BBC News.

The rain seemed to hold off on us but we still caught the bus down the hill to the Metro. Our trip took us to Arts-Loi, to change to get to Gare Midi. Somehow, we got the right train, but going the wrong direction, which became apparent once we hit the end of the line. Fortunately, we had the time to ride the train all the way back through Arts-Loi and go the correct way.

Entry into the Eurostat Terminal is like an airport, with full screening of baggage and body. The difference to the airport is that you still have your luggage with you, it hasn’t been taken away on the conveyor belt, so Christine’s got pulled over when scanning detected a knife. There were no guns or handcuffs involved, just a nice young man who dealt sympathetically with the little old lady with the knife in her luggage. Once she had pulled out all her undies and found the knife in the kitchen bag, we were on our way again.

The train itself is far from the best we have been on. The seats are a little lacking in leg room and don’t recline at all. There was also a lack of USB outlets, although power outlets were available. We had left our adaptors in the main luggage so accessing them would be a pest. The train set off and we were soon out of the city and passing through rolling green farmlands, mostly filled with crops of barley, wheat and canola, much like home, except the total size of each farm was about the same as one paddock around Dowerin. The machinery being used was small too, almost like toy machines. On the plus side, the crops looked to be very healthy and promising an extremely high yield by our standards. We soon crossed the border into France and the train stopped once to pick up more passengers in Lille.

With the English Channel getting close, the train slipped into a tunnel and we spent the next 20 minutes or so underground and underwater. They really should have made a glass channel tunnel. All that could be seen was the occasional flash of light from another train or vehicle. Christine took the opportunity to fall asleep again. When we emerged into daylight again, I woke her to show that we were in England but she just did an eye-roll and went back to sleep.  It was left to me to admire the scenery. The landscape did actually change. The fields of crops had gone, to be replaced by fields with sheep a few cattle. The vegetation also seemed to have changed, with more in the way of trees and stands of timber.

In seemingly no time, we were on the outskirts of London and the train began to spend increasingly more time underground. I had roused Christine again and she took it seriously this time. It was a pleasure to be able to read all the signage as we made our way through St Pancras Station and out into the wild. It was another Venice moment when you emerge from the rail station to be greeted with the bedlam of the Grand Canal. Walking out of St Pancras to be greeted by a crush of London cabs and a couple of red double deckers sliding by was surreal. We had actually arrived. Britain has been so much part of our lives through literature, television, friends  and  relatives that there was almost a sense of “home”.  Kings Cross Station is across the road and the Underground was easy to find. We had pre-purchased Oyster Cards for use on London Transport and had a £10 credit, which we topped up with another £10. Then it was on to the tube train, which looked like something from the 1950s. It rattled and banged through the narrow tunnels, sometimes creating a screaming sound that most passengers seemed immune to. I noticed some men reading the newspaper, a sight that I never saw in Europe and rarely see in Perth anymore. It must be a British thing.

We got out at Victoria Station to change for Clapham Junction. We failed to find the right tube, only to discover that we had to take a proper train, which would cost us £4.30 for a short ride across the river. We will need to get a better handle on London transport. We alighted at Clapham Junction and walked the 1.2km to our house on the Shaftesbury Park Estate in Battersby. The area is very pretty. The estate was built in 1874 by a group that wanted to improve the housing conditions of workers and provide them with actual houses. The benevolent group built over 1200 homes in the area, constructed in identical blocks of 10 terraced two storey houses. It was named after Lord Shaftesbury, a prominent campaigner for improved working class housing. The streets are all tree lined and the whole effect is quite striking. Across the road from us is the Shaftesbury Park Primary, a big four storey structure that is very busy in the morning and afternoon.

The Eurostar and our place in Battersea (the corner apartment)

Our host Samantha, was very pleased to see us. She had been messaging us seeking information of our whereabouts because she needed to catch a train to Wales. In our efforts to navigate the Underground, we had missed her messages. After a hasty handover, we were on our own and unpacked, before heading down to the nearest supermarket to pick up a frozen pizza, salad, cereal and, of course, some wine.

11 May – London Eye and Tower Bridge – The first action of the day after breakfast was to walk down to the local Sainsbury Supermarket, which had a bit more choice than the Co-op we had visited the previous night. Here we picked up food for a couple of nights, finding the rule of thumb from Europe still applied, roughly the same price as Perth but Dollars are Pounds (ie double the cost). It doesn’t take long to be lulled by this. You see a pack of four chicken drumsticks for £5.20 and you think, “That’s ok, that’s normal.” Then you realise that the £5.20 is actually $10. Ouch. When you take into account that average earnings here are only about 70% of those in Australia, I am not sure how people manage.

We set off for the London Eye. We had booked a couple of activities in advance, using credits we had through a cancelled hotel stay with Luxury Escapes. We often don’t take a lot of touristy excursions because of the highly inflated prices but it does not seem so bad when you are using credits that must be used in a calendar year and the original hotel stay was bought with Qantas Points anyway. It does not feel the same as shelling out actual cash. The London Eye ticket was for a specific time, 2pm, and access before was not permitted. We spent the waiting time strolling along the river bank, admiring the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. The crowds were certainly out and about, particularly tour groups and quite a few groups of school aged teenagers, probably on school tours. We ducked into a café for a feed of fish and chips, which proved to live up to the hype that is often afforded to the British staple. We took them outside to eat, but the heavens decided to send down rain in big drops. Along with loads of others, we scuttled inside.

The rain continued unabated until it was time to get on the wheel. Fortunately, the rain drops on the plexiglass did not detract from the experience, which was really amazing. Being able to look down on the surround grand buildings was worth the experience. It takes a full 30 minutes to complete the revolution so there is lots of time to fully appreciate the scenery. Our pod was like all others, full of selfie posing tourists and lots of “oohs and ahhs”. It was most enjoyable and well worth the Qantas Points.

From the London Eye, it was back on a bus and went down river to the Tower Bridge. We got off a stop early to walk the last part along the river and admire the bridge as we approached it. The fact that the Tower of London is adjacent to the bridge makes the scene even more spectacular. I always thought that the Tower Bridge was so named because of its twin tower structures but it is its proximity to the Tower of London that gives it the name.

Once again, we had some tickets to the bridge using Qantas Points, entitling us to climb up to the walkways that span the towers at the top. Christine elected to forego the 290 steps and use the lift while I foolishly decided to take the steps and set my calf muscles on fire. I made it though, happy to pass a number of people much younger than me taking much needed breathers along the way. There is a lot of really interesting information about the building of the bridge laid out along the way and a wonderful film shot in 1906 showing the horse-drawn traffic of the time and the bridge opening. These days, the bridge opens around 85 times a year, mostly to let smaller cruise ships pass. Most of the old docks upstream of the tower bridge are no longer in use.

The walkways provide wonderful views of the surrounding banks and the Tower of London. There are some glass panels set into the floor with a mirrored ceiling so visitors can take some strange but interesting pictures.  We laughed at the people lying down on the glass floor trying to capture a special moment. We made our way back down, (going down was easy in comparison) and on to the engine room. In the old days, the bridge was steam driven and the two huge engines have been retained as part of a display.

We caught the bus back home, requiring a change of buses and taking pride that we were starting to master the bus system. The Red Double Decker Buses are so much fun, if one has the time. The Underground is not fun at all. It is noisy and involves a lot of changing tubes and going directions you don’t really want to go. Most regular users shun the upper deck of the bus and so we can usually grab the upper front seats and get a wonderful panoramic view of the route we are travelling on. It is so entertaining. We find almost every district we pass through has a recognisable name, many from Monopoly of course, or some from just our large film and television exposure to London over the years.

12 May – Tower of London etc – Christine mapped out a plan for the day, starting at the Tower of London, and working our way through to Trafalgar Square and Buckingham Palace. Planning trips around the city is an art form, there are so many possibilities. Rarely does the Underground suit our needs, it always involves multiple changes.

We got off the bus just after it crossed London Bridge and took a leisurely walk along the river bank to the Tower. Unfortunately, we were not able to get any tickets from our Qantas Points source for the Tower, so we had to fork out a ghastly £46 ($A90) to go in. We thought about it, but then we might never be back, so in we went. How could the extortionate entry fee be justified? Well, we emerged over 3 hours later, absolutely thrilled with our experience.

The first part of the fortification was the White Tower, built around 1080 by William the Conqueror. Obviously, it has had a lot of upkeep and maintenance over the years and remains in excellent condition compared to many of the castles we have seen. The rest of the large complex was built between 1150 and 1600. Having recently watch the Netflix series White Queen, which used the complex in many of its scenes, added a lot of interest to the tour. There are audio guides and Beefeater tours available, but I really don’t think they are needed, so good is the quality of the self-guided walk around and the informative signage available. Many of the walls have elaborate carvings etched into them, done by poor souls who were incarcerated in the Tower at some point. Elisabeth I seemed to be particularly fond of throwing people in the tower and had a very broad definition of what constituted treason.  There is a lot of climbing narrow stairways and narrow passageways but the time passed quickly, each section holding our attention. The weather was up to its usual worst, which helped keep the crowds down and moving through was easy.

After walking the outer walls and rooms, we settled in to the café for a coffee and sausage roll. London has retained the old tradition of having cafeterias, places where you select your own food from a displayed array and pay accordingly. There were full hot meals being served, along with a variety of sandwiches, rolls and snacks. It was good to see the use of porcelain crockery and silverware, rather than horrible single use stuff. We need more of these back in Perth.

Spirits restored, we went through the Crown Jewels display. Having just seen many of the objects in the Coronation ceremony on TV, it was fascinating to see the actual objects. I had always assumed that the real items are hidden away somewhere and the displayed things are fakes but it seems the genuine articles are the ones presented. The display is very well laid out and allows viewers to get up very close, except for a few sheets of glass which I assume are close to unbreakable. Photography is banned, which meant that some people had to experience the  terrifying ordeal of putting their phone away. Even more startling than the actual royal regalia, is the huge array of goldware, plates, jugs, bowls and various ornaments, all dazzling in their brilliance. It really is a display of incredible wealth, and rather pointless. Most objects were a gift from some dignitary or country at some stage and probably didn’t have a huge impact on each new monarch when they were presented.

Next it was in to the White Tower itself, four storeys of armoury displays. There were countless suits of armour, many displayed on mannequins astride horseback, the horse too resplendent with their shiny armour. Given that many  of the suits of armour on display were from past Kings or Princes, it is unlikely that they had to do much actual protecting, although one display showed how an armour breastplate is little protection against a cannonball. There was a vast array of killing implements on display, with fascinating crossbows, huge heavy swords and early firearms that would probably have missed everything they were fired at.

The final display was the old Royal Mint, in use back when coin making was done by hand, punching impressions onto metal sheeting using a die and a big hammer. We loved everything, but it was time to push on, having already realised that the day’s plans would have to be curtailed.

We caught a bus towards Trafalgar Square. One of our missions was to find a large Post Office. We were carrying £220 that we had held since 2017, and when we tried to spend some of it, we got a knock back, Britain having moved over to the polymer money like Australia in recent years. The first Post Office we found in The Strand couldn’t do it, but they directed us to one in Regent Street, so it was a bit of a game to navigate around on foot and find the next one. Around us, the city was bustling, the crowds on the footpaths heavy and the traffic horrendous. We stopped on the way to admire Trafalgar Square, with its famous lions guarding each corner, and Lord Nelson standing atop the column. It is not only an important monument, but it is a major intersection and crossing the roads around the square takes patience. From the square, Big Ben rears magnificently at the end of Whitehall and the Admiralty Arch leads the way to The Mall and Buckingham Palace.

We located our Post Office and changed our money. By coincidence, the couple next to us were also exchanging old notes, a similar amount, and the cashiers had been in the act of counting a large stack of Australian Dollars.

Done for the day, we found a bus to take us back over the Thames to home, exhausted but well satisfied with our day.

13 May – Westminster Abbey, The Mall, Buckingham Palace, West End, Soho – We planned to fill in some of the things we didn’t have time for yesterday. We set out early, as in 8:30, a time when we are often still getting out of bed. We caught the #87 bus which would take us across the Thames into the Westminster district. As we approached Westminster Abbey, I noticed some street signs talking about transport changes and closures but we ignored them because they were talking about 11am onwards.

We alighted at Westminster Abbey and admired the beauty of the building from the outside. We didn’t go in because (a) it was too early (b) there were no bookings left (c) they wanted a ridiculous fee of £58 a head to see inside. We have better things to do with $A100. I feel sorry for the residents of London who don’t seem to get any cheaper access to many of these places. I am sure their taxes are used in the restoration and maintenance of London’s famous landmarks and should not be charged the terrible amounts that tourists are charged.

We walked through the nearby Parliament Square Garden and admired the statues of significant people that were dotted around. I wondered whether Nelson Mandela would have been thrilled to share a spot with Winston Churchill and Jan Smuts, former Prime Minister of South Africa. From there, we got back on the bus and made our way back to Trafalgar Square. We walked through the Admiralty Arch, which is the portal to The Mall, the beautiful avenue through St James Park to Buckingham Palace, and strolled down The Mall, watching the many workers scurrying around packing away fencing and equipment from the Coronation Parade from the previous week. There seemed to be a lot of police activity too, with cars tearing around, lights flashing and sirens blaring. There always seems to be a police car charging off somewhere. We even saw two cars each with lights flashing pass each other in opposite directions and the cops waved to each other. A very active squirrel caught our attention for a while, scurrying around and up and down nearby trees. He was a brave little fellow because there were a lot of dogs running around off-lead in the parklands.

After a coffee stop in the park, we made our way to the Victoria Memorial in front of the palace and joined the crowds milling around for selfies. The palace itself is actually smaller than I imagined. It is still a lot bigger than any house we have ever owned but the reality is less than the images. We felt the same about the Houses of Parliament, impressive by any standards, but smaller than our expectations.  It probably isn’t the building itself that is the attraction, because it is unremarkable compared to a great many others around London, but rather the traditions that lie behind it. The setting is certainly spectacular, St James Park and The Mall providing the perfect approach. Beyond Buckingham Palace, the path leads between the palace gardens and The Green Park, which had become a huge storage area for crowd control equipment and fencing. It looked as though there was at least another week’s work to move everything away.

We walked up to Hyde Park Corner, famous as a place of the orators, although none were in evidence at that time. The tradition that the location was one for free speech comes from its origins as an execution square, where the condemned were given a last chance to say something meaningful. Into Hyde Park itself, we consulted the map and decided to take a stroll down to the Lido, the swimming beach area. The lake, called the Serpentine, is man-made and fed from a number of bores. Although it is filled with swans and ducks, it is a popular swimming spot and was even used for the Olympic Triathlon in 2012. The pathways around the park were quite busy with joggers, walkers, roller bladers and a lot of people who appeared to be in training for cross-country skiing, using strange, elongated roller skates and ski poles. There are horse trails too, with beautifully groomed mounts and equally well groomed riders.

Leaving the park, we got onto a bus and cut back across the city to Piccadilly Circus, where we alighted and wandered along Shaftesbury Avenue soaking up the atmosphere. The crowds had swelled by this time and as we headed down into China Town and through to Leicester Square, the streets were hopping. The fine Saturday weather had brought a lot of people out. The smells issuing forth from the many food shops in China Town made us think of eating, and we scrutinized quite few menus but decided we really just wanted a snack or something small. We pushed on with the walk, through Soho until we found a Marks and Spencer. Pommie friends have often extolled the virtues of the good old M&S, so we took a look around at the clothes on offer. The range was excellent, the prices reasonable for what was good quality, but nothing tempted us. We opted instead for the café and ordered a couple of things encouragingly titled ciabattas, one bacon based and the other omelette filled. It is a good thing we added a side of chips because the ciabatta turned out to be an ordinary bread bun. The bacon was edible but the omelette filling was leathery egg on a bed of chutney, creating a barely edible combination. The chips were yummy. Even though the food was a fail, some things still stood out as standard for Aussie establishments to match. Again, they used washable crockery and cutlery. Secondly, there was a large water container and a stack of glasses for diners to avail themselves of instead of having to buy an overpriced plastic bottle of water.

By this time, we figured we had had enough and located a bus stop for a bus to take us towards Trafalgar to connect to the #87 back to Battersea. We waited for what seemed ljke a ridiculously long time but our number was not forthcoming. We consulted Google maps and made the decision to keep wandering along ourselves to Trafalgar. The square was filled with people carrying banners and placards, most calling for a Free Palestine, but a few calling for a stronger Israel. We skirted the crowds and found a stop a little way down Whitehall. By the time we got there, we realised we had walked close to 10km and we felt it. The same thing happened. No buses came at all.  There were a few other people at the stand but they slowly drifted away. Glancing up the road to Trafalgar, we noticed a steady stream of buses going around, with nothing turning down Whitehall. Looking the other way down to Parliament Square, we could see all the police cars and road closure signs. Then, we remembered the notices about service disruption we had seen earlier. There was also a big protest down at Parliament Square, so the buses had obviously found an alternative route. We relocated to another stop on the #87 route before Trafalgar Square, but still nothing. Finally, we headed into Charing Cross Underground and caught a train to Vauxhall, so we could catch a bus back home. We arrived home, quite shattered and having clocked up 12.5km. We were tired, but very well content with the day.

14 May – Battersea Park – We needed a day of rest, so we spent the morning doing little , other than catching up on a few jobs and booking a few future rail tickets, along with the all important research into travel options. It is a big job, because nothing is simple. On the continent, there tends to be one rail option to compare with Flixbus as the coach option. Here, there are multiple rail companies and many forms of ticket and the coach options are limited. The travel planning sites like Rome2Rio and Google, become unreliable when there are so many options and can be quite misleading. Sometimes, with two of us working, it is like a bidding war. “I have a train with 2 changes for £38 each.” Followed by “I can do a £30 with only one change but an hour’s wait in between.” We may not always get the best deal but we don’t give in easily.

Outside, the sun shone beautifully and things looked wonderful. We noticed on Google Maps that there was a car boot sale of antiques and bric-a-brac nearby every Sunday so we set off to have a look. It meant crossing the rail lines, via a long overhead bridge to get over the South Western line followed by a tunnel to get under the local train. The car boot sale proved to be a non-starter because they wanted £2 each just to get in and it looked like there were no more than 20 cars, so we gave it a miss and walked a short distance to Battersea Park. The lovely weather had brought everyone out. There were a couple of cricket matches going and hordes of people just soaking up the sun, or exercising in some form.  We sat for a while and watched one of the cricket matches. The guys took it seriously and they looked the part replendent in their whites, but the standard was pretty poor. The bowling lacked any form of threat and the batsmen declined the opportunity to put the ball over the boundary. It didn’t matter, because they were all enjoying themselves, including the square-leg umpire, who had a stubby to keep him lubricated. The park is beautiful, and quite large, extending through to the river, with Albert Bridge at one end and Chelsea Bridge at the other. The lure of an “English Garden” area attracted us but it looked more like an Aussie garden overgrown with weeds. One of the things we have noticed is that many of the plants here are what we call weeds back home. It’s what happens when you take a plant from its natural environment and it likes its new surroundings more.

Battersea Park

Back home, we headed for a lie down, a rarity of late, and watched Sam Kerr and the Chelsea girls take out the Women’s FA Cup Final. There is so much more we could have done in London. The possibilities are endless. We didn’t even get to do the Abbey Road Crosswalk. Tomorrow, we head to Wiltshire, and a quieter life.

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