Tag: Visit Britain

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Loving London

Not a war time cry across the wireless but a phrase from the lyrics put together by ‘The Clash’ and with which its song leads I feel ‘London Calling’. The Clash would follow up their leading line with ‘to the faraway towns’, and this is so as I sit on the train back from this incredible city and return to my faraway town.

Some would associate London calling with the punk record or look back at memories of when it was the leading line on the wireless before the BBC would deliver reports on the darkest periods of World War II. Relaxing by letting the train take the strain I start to ponder how on earth I can write a single blog about the ‘greatest city’ on earth, that has become the laughingstock around the world recently’ apparently. I will stay away from the politics, after all this blog is about travel, London has been calling me for a while now, but though my mission to visit every city has taken a hiatus, everything now looks to be getting back on track.

A city like many others on this personal journey, it is steeped in so much of Britain’s history, which is infused through every nook and cranny of this metropolis. It was the Romans who first established this city some 2000 years ago, before many ups and downs created what is seen today. The Black Plague, the Great Fire Spanish flu and even the German Luftwaffe tried to destroy it, but she still stood firm. These are just a few periods of its incredible history that have shaped the city seen today and perhaps are reasons for so many visitors.

London lures many people to visit, to work or even to in live in, I’m included in that number. What is the reason? Politicians strive for power, investors and bankers seek their fortune, some people arrive for a glimpse of the monarchy, or others just like to find fame in that ‘Instagrammable’) location. The facts surely speak for themselves. Before the pandemic struck, some 18 million people came to visit the city every year. This is further evidenced by London being voted the greatest city on the planet on numerous occasions. This, of course, is open for debate.

Someone wise once said, ‘Why, sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.’ Sadly, as I write this, I tend to disagree because, on this day, I am willing to leave London. Has the world changed greatly from the day that this was said? In my opinion it has greatly! In my eyes the hustle and bustle are okay for a day or two, but full time? Not for me! That’s a rat race I don’t want to win. Perhaps many Londoners shared the same view as they flocked away from the city during the pandemic. As I see it there is a call from afar of green and pleasant lands that offer a quality of life that the city can’t match. Full time bloggers dedicate their blogs to this city. I’m just an inquisitive individual trying to learn about these lands.

It’s that thirst for knowledge that has taught me London is two cities the City of Westminster and the City of London. The City of London is surely a far cry from the small fort the Romans would have established when they invaded these lands. When the Roman Empire fell and the Romans left these shores, the city has evolved from sticks and stones into the financial hub of the world (would need confirmation that this is still the case). Now referred to as ‘the square mile’. It is adjoined on the western boundary by London’s second city, the ‘bubble’ (sorry City) of Westminster (the chaos of that City is reflected in the daily news, and I will leave that for you to follow). These two Cities combine to form the central heartbeat (downtown – if you’re reading from across the pond) of what many people associate as being London.  The gothic grandeur sprinkled throughout as modern & medieval architecture stand side by side complimenting each other is a sight to behold. London’s addictive atmosphere evokes curiosity & excitement. This is true for me as a visitor, but for those who live here 24/7 they may have other feelings. These two cities, together with 31 boroughs, combine to form the Greater London Area (GLA). Camden, Hammersmith & Fulham, Richmond, Southwark, Greenwich to name a few. Six of these boroughs do not have “London Borough” in their names: the City of London and the City of Westminster, and the Royal Boroughs of Kingston upon Thames, Kensington, Chelsea, and Greenwich. For someone living in the countryside its astonishing to think that an incredible 9 million people call London home which is more people than live in Wales and Scotland combined or the entire population of Austria. This amount of people surely gives the city its rich & diverse culture. Over a third of this 9 million were born abroad which means London is probably as international as it is British.

These cultures combine to give a mix of cuisines like no other city. Forget ‘the best of British’, as food lovers are spoilt for choice. When visiting or living in London people are spoilt for choices. There are a remarkable 87 Michelin star restaurants in the city and 3 at the highest 3* level. There are even rumours that there are more Indian restaurants in London than in Mumbai and that the food is better than can be found in that city. A quick troll through Instagram will show you some of the famous ones, normally accompanied by a rooftop view for drinks – they certainly are the craze these days. If food isn’t what you seek, then perhaps a pint maybe calling you. Pubs are part of the very fabric of Britain, and it is claimed that in London you are never no more than 7metres from one (again how true this is I shall let you decide). The capital boasts some 7,000 public houses and inns. Afternoon tea is another very British tradition, and London (where it originates from?) does it like no other. A visit to the Ritz, Claridge’s, Browns, Dorchester and The Berkeley are all worth the financial outlay.

But London is more than food & drink. It can boast an incredible 4 separate world heritage sites. It has 2000 years of history. Meaning it has something for everyone. The Romans established it, it survived the dark ages before evolving through the Middle Ages, and now as technology advances at a rate of knots who knows what she might become. The great British Isles are blessed with many castles, London incredibly only boasts one these days, The famous and much visited tower of London. At one time there were 9 castles surrounding the city, but the only one remaining is to the west, which is her late majesty’s resting place, Windsor. A town not so far away, only a day’s march back in the day is well worth a visit but shouldn’t distract you from the time that would be lost to the vast amount of museums London has to boast. You could spend a couple of weeks in London and still not visit all the museums, as there are over 170 of them. The best thing is that most of them are free! Half of the 2 millennia (of the Christian era) have been ruled by the monarchy. Westminster Abbey (along with the Tower of London) dates back to the Norman invasion. Westminster Abbey is where our kings and queens are crowned. There is a fascination with the monarchy from old to young and far and wide, and while it gives us our rich traditions, values and pomp and circumstance the whispers grow louder for its very existence. London’s more recent history has been absorbed in political infighting that has come off the back of pandemic management. As we leave the ‘pandemic’ London, like the rest of the Europe, survived as it did the great Plague and fire. During the great plague some 40,000 Londoners were wiped out in 1665 and a year later the great fire tore through the city, but she still survived. As the city evolved from the turmoil of an epidemic and then ash, it rose again. The present St Paul’s Cathedral is testament to this. It left the medieval ages and golden years and went on to become the modern masterpiece everyone seems to love now. The impression I have is that much of London’s success can be put down to the Victorians. There may be similarities with the here and now as Britain looks to carve its new place in the world post Brexit. Perhaps some inspiration can be gleaned from its great and long-standing history. London is also home to some quirky street names.

I mentioned ‘wannabe‘ social media stars flocking to the city for the perfect location for food or spending money in the city’s fashionable drinking and eating establishments. Their arrival is clearly the city’s business gains. London is also one of the 4 fashion capitals of the world and is home to more shops than Paris. Oxford, Regent & Bond Street are famous as are Harrods in Knightsbridge, Saville Row or, my personal favourite, Covent Garden.  Fashion is so popular in London that it requires two weeks and not one in the calendar year for its fashion week. The city has also produced some famous names in the fashion world – Naomi Campbell and Kate Moss to name a couple.

With many people living, working or visiting the city, it needs a transport system like no other. Green taxes and overcrowded roads mean driving in London isn’t for the faint hearted. London is served by the largest city airport network in the world. The 6 airports that form this service to the city are Stansted, Luton, Southend, City, Gatwick and Heathrow. The London Underground with its famous map is an experience not to be missed when in the city. It’s the oldest metro system in the world, 402km long and boasts an incredible 270 stops. It is reported that 1.3 billon single trips are made each year on the ‘Tube’. It is also an interesting fact that more of the underground exists above ground. How could one write about transport and not mention London’s iconic Black cabs and red buses. They used to dominate the roads of the city, but now they are competing with uber, and bicycles as alternative forms of getting round. As the world looks to green alternatives, possibly the best way to explore the city is by foot. It’s certainly my favourite way to explore the place. You’ll hopefully be able to read my blogs soon of when I completed the Thames path which took me right through the heart of the city. The City is classified as a national forest. There are an estimated 8 and half million trees in the city with over 300 gardens. This equates to 40% of London being parkland.

So, as I draw this slightly longer blog to a close, I can only apologise for its length. Hopefully you can see how difficult I have found to condense this blog about the city, and I’ve barely scratched the surface. So, as I look to explore this great city in further detail, the capital of capitals, watch out for more and more blogs on this fascinating city. I will return to that famous quote ‘when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.’ I’m not tired and look forward to returning. Are you tired of London? Answers on a postcard (email) please….

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Eton Style

I love the Boatman for there I can eat in style. It is great to sit by the river in the grounds of the same pub mentioned in the piece on Windsor. I was in good company this time and the sun was shining. Lunch had been demolished and I toyed with the idea of indulging in some broken pavlova, mixed in with strawberries and lashings of cream. Instead I decided to cross over Windsor bridge and explore the town of Eton rather than indulge in its namesake dessert. My waistline almost expressed its gratitude for non-indulgence as I set about seeing if there was a link between the town and the dessert. It is rumoured that the dessert was to be served at some time during a cricket match between Eton and Harrow, it was dropped (hence the mess), and scooped up and served as it was.

I crossed the famous bridge, like so many have done before me. I expect that many visitors to Windsor have not gone on to explore the other side of river and the famous town but rather stay on the bridge and capture an image of the castle from there. Instead I left Windsor behind and started to make my way up the high street which is possibly like no other in the land but, sadly, on this day resembled more of a building site than a bespoke arcade. The ubiquitous British flags and bunting still adorned the street, providing much colour above as cars littered the street below. Whilst walking along the pavement I was drawn to some lonely books for sale outside a bookshop. I picked up one that said, “considered to be Dickens’ finest novel”. What a great purchase this may prove to be, as I look to create my own library and find a love of reading. Oh, where was this appetite when I was young? I went to purchase the book and grabbed a booklet regarding the “Eton walkway”. To my delight I was informed by the quaint man behind the desk that it was free. I was delighted that purchasing a book had resulted in the acquisition of a free guide to my afternoon of meanderings. So, I left with one of England’s finest works and a guide to show me the best bits of this town.

As I wandered up the high street, I was able to identify the points of interest as my step by step guide explained them all to me. A red pillar box, for example, once a common feature on the streets of our nation, only this one is a rare one indeed. Only 10 of these types of box exist in the country, and as a result it is grade II listed. A vertical slot for posting letters was puzzling to see. The guide took me further up the high street passing the Porny School towards Baldwin’s bridge. Just before the bridge are a couple of colourful shops that, on closer inspection, proved to be tailors. How does such a small town justify two tailors? Well this high street probably relies heavily on its ‘town and gown’ tag for just over Baldwin’s bridge lies Eton College.

The famous college was founded in 1440 by Henry VI and is dedicated to the Virgin Mary. As one approaches the college from the high street the first part one sees is the chapel. Not looking like a chapel, one can only assume what it’s like on the inside. The windows in the chapel were destroyed in 1940 during the bombing raids on England. On the outer edge of the chapel and, unlike much of the college, able to be seen by all is a plaque regarding William de Waynflete, a former bishop of Winchester, who paid for the completion of the chapel.

 

From here one approaches the main gates to the school.  It costs around £14,000 per term for education at the college. Originally 70 scholars were educated for free and provided with accommodation. Whether this is still the case in these financial times I’m not sure – I doubt it. Access to the school is very limited but a sneaky look through the grand gates will allow one to see the statue to the founding king in the centre of the quadrangle.

The college dominates much of the town, with 24 houses providing accommodation for over 1300 pupils. The mind begins to boggle at the finances this school operates with – oh how different to the budgets in state schools. On the other side of the road lies the second main quadrant of buildings for the school. Immediately you are drawn to what lies in front of the centre archway. What school do you know that has a historic cannon on display? A completely different world. It does provide wonderful photo opportunities as the marvellous stonework behind the cannon adds to the image.

The walkway then started to bring me out of the town. It was here that perhaps the finest view of the college was captured. As I stood there and took the picture I wondered if I was actually taking a picture of a college in Cambridge. Is there a link between the two establishments? It was also at this point I had passed some surprising iron rungs in the wall with my guidebook informing me that these are there to provide pupils access to the top of the wall to watch the ‘The Wall Game’. This takes place in the autumn term and is perhaps unique to this college.

The next part of the walkway involved me getting a little lost as I tried to pick up access to more of the buildings across the college’s greens. I eventually found my way back onto Common Lane which brought me back to the main college buildings and the top of the high street. It was here that I found ‘the burning bush’. Designed to help the boys cross the road safely, it was moved from its original location when the cannon was put in place. Now a significant landmark of the town and photographic opportunity, it also takes its place in front of a doomed building which bears similarities to that of Radcliffe Camera in Oxford.

Pressed for time, I return towards the river, passing some other points of interest which include the natural history museum and the museum of antiquities before coming across the church of St John. The church is now a shadow of former glories and has had to find a new way of surviving, the school coming to the rescue and converting it into accommodation and a local doctor’s surgery. Oh, how the religious landscape of this nation has changed.

My return to the river beneath Windsor castle completed the ‘Eton Walkway’. It had been an incredibly informative and pleasantly surprising walk. I left with another book for ‘my library’ and many happy memories. Anyone who visits Windsor must plan a longer trip than those arranged from London as they only give the visitor a couple of hours here. Windsor and Eton are worthy of more than a casual glance. Stay a night and spend some serious time here and you never know what you might find for across the river lies the town of Eton, dominated by a famous school and the town is associated with a dessert we all surely love. Why wouldn’t you want to explore Eton?

Eton, England, United Kingdom

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Yes York

There are good days and not so good days. There are early morning run days and there are other days. There are home days and away days. Today was a good day (in every sense of the word – weather, profitable, awakening, etc.), an away day and ideal for a run. I left my hotel and started running from Clifford’s Tower around the walls before finding somewhere for breakfast. In those heavy plods, my overweight body gasped at the fresh winter air and cleared my lungs; I was richly rewarded for such an early start. As the sun shone and warmed my sleepy muscles, I began to enjoy this newfound way to explore a city. I must surely look at the health and environment benefits of exploring places in this and other ways. Like many of these cities this was not a first visit, but again my memory, or lack of it, has let me down, for anyone who has been to York will remember it.

It was reportedly said by King George VI, “that the history of York is the history of England”. Whether he ever said this I will leave to those who wish to confirm or otherwise, but what I will say is that if he didn’t say it, I will! York, the capital of the north, a Christian stronghold, once Europe’s chief trading base, and England’s second city, it really does provide a snapshot of England’s history. Although not England’s second city now, it is home to an important diocese within the Church of England and the title handed to the second son of a given reigning monarch.

How it came to be known as York is a mystery to me. When the Romans arrived, they named it Eboracum, before the Saxons changed it to Eoforwic and the Vikings named it Jorvik. Like I’ve mentioned before the Romans had a good eye for establishing bases. York was no different. Its ideal strategic location on the conflux of the rivers Ouse and Foss was their chosen spot. It probably provided good transportation links as well as defences. Very little of Roman Britain remains in York – there is an odd pillar here and there. Rumours are that much of Roman York is buried under the city itself but it does lay claim to the place of the proclamation of the Roman Emperor Constantine (a statue dedicated to the emperor can be found outside the Minster).

As the history books will no doubt inform me the Romans’ influence declined and then it was the turn of the Saxons and Vikings. York is filled with museums documenting their time in the city. Those not wishing to spend time in these museums only need to look at the Danish street names for the influence left over from the Vikings.

Everyone knows how the Saxon/Viking era finished some 300 miles south of York in Hastings by the Normans in 1066 – and all that. The new king of the land set about touring his newfound kingdom and building defences and religious buildings. He arrived in York relatively easily with no resistance and was handed the keys. He quickly set about building its defences as he raised a motte and baily castle here. The building of structures used for religious purposes didn’t come for another 200 years, so was there something already here? The city had two castles built and Clifford’s Tower (where my run commenced) is one of them. As I did those runs up and down the stairs to the castle I quickly got an idea of how easy it might be to defend these hills. Clifford’s Tower is the only remaining castle – the other has long gone. It is named after Roger de Clifford who was hanged here in 1322. There is a museum opposite the tower which houses the cell formerly used by highwayman Dick Turpin. These first original defences built by William weren’t that secure as the Vikings returned to capture the city. William returned, and set about rebuilding the city walls and destroying much of the land between here and Durham.

York’s other military defences that can be still seen today are its perfectly kept walls. Whoever saved the day in the 18th century when most city walls were being pulled down must be praised. What is left is not all encapsulating as I got lost when the walls stopped. Like Chester’s walls they beg to be traversed. At just over 3-mile-long they provided perfect running space and dreamy views on an early morning. I was lucky enough to get pictures of the Minster, etc. Whilst walls provide a great way of stopping anyone from coming in or out, there was a need for gates to be included. These medieval gates are called Bars. 4 of them are placed in the walls but I did not find out whether or not they match the points of the compass. Their names are Bootham, Walmgate, Monk and Micklegate. Built between the 12-15th centuries these provided the collection point for city taxes. The final two on the list of 4 are now museums to Richard III (Monk) and Henry VII (Micklegate). When I return Monk Bar must surely be in line for a visit as I’m currently reading about Richard III. Perhaps I should devote as much time to Micklegate Bar as well, as the city’s most famous of Bars. It is said that the monarch, upon arriving at York, would wait at Micklegate and seek the permission of the Lord Mayor to enter the city. Micklegate Bar was also the place in which the heads of traitors and rebels were placed on display. This gruesome decoration was prominent during the ebb and flow of the War of the Roses and as each side took an upper hand, they would display how successful it had been by this means. Most distasteful.

Inside those protecting walls lies the glory of York, it’s Minster. York Minster has been described as one of the world’s most magnificent cathedrals. This is up for debate. I mean, it’s not even a cathedral but a minster??? So how can it be one of the most magnificent in the world. My visits to cathedrals recently haven’t endeared me to them, substantial financial costs for entrance a major problem, but also timing my visits with essential building works. York minster was no different, at an alarming £11.50 to enter. I was heartbroken to see that the middle of the church had been blocked off for the once-in-a-century tuning of the organ thus ruining my photos of the inside and meaning access to see the central tower ceiling impossible. My selfish desires to capture everything on one visit must be put aside as I sit down and remember the cost of maintaining these buildings but also marvel at the sheer size of this place. I’ve made many a mention about how on earth these religious places were ever built or how they were designed. There is such a vacuum of empty space inside, one can certainly feel lonely.

On such a beautiful day I didn’t really want to waste it on the inside, I paid an extra £5 to complete the tower tour. 275 steps later I was rewarded with the best views of the city in glorious winter sunshine and well worth the exercise. I finally dragged myself back down again and had a wander around. Did you know that the Archbishop of York is the second highest ranking clergyman in the land? I guess an archbishop comes at the top of the hierarchy in the church of England and the Archbishop of Canterbury is the top man. The sheer size of the diocese of York also means that the archbishop is kept a very busy man. A step outside to admire the outside of the building in sunshine is much more appealing on this day.

After exploring the Minster, I stepped further into the city to be amazed at its preservation. You will find medieval, Jacobean and Georgian architecture now combined with the modern landscape of a city. There is so much to explore down winding and narrow cobbled streets. One street in particular is a favourite on Instagram, ‘the Shambles’. This crooked street with beautifully preserved, over hanging timber buildings provide the must take photo of the city. How many times has this street cropped up on Instagram pages? It is argued that it is the finest medieval street in Europe, and it is hard to disagree – people in Germany and in a city like Prague might have something to say. It really does feel like a step back in time, although its current shop holders don’t resemble the originals (a street full of butchers). There are many nooks and crannies to explore in this city and an overwhelming number of churches and museums. These museums also provide light to one of the cities more modern successes. Chocolate and sweets. We’ve all heard of the names Terrys, Cravens and Rowntree.

The success of these chocolatiers in the 19th Century owed much of its fortune to the links that the railway provided. We associate the railway with the industrial revolution, so it’s surprising that I mention it in connection with chocolate though this became an industry. The railway line gave it market access it could have only dreamt of. It also led to the beginning of the tourist trade that the city clearly thrives upon (second only to London on the number of visitors per year), as train loads of people arrived from around the country. At one point over 250 trains were arriving each day into the city. This of course led to the Victorians building a new railway station to manage the demand. By the end of the 19th century it was the railways and chocolate industries that were the biggest employers of the city. When in York, time must surely be made to visit the largest railway museum in the world. A former steam engine shed is now a converted home to some iconic engines – the Flying Scotsman, the Mallard, Stephenson’s Rocket to name but a few. Seeing these engines was a joy to see but felt a little dreary, for there is nothing more poetic than seeing these great machines in full working order. Visit the heritage railways and you’ll begin to appreciate what I mean.

York, perhaps ‘the capital city of the North’, whose fortunes rose and fell with its ties to the crown and church, was once England’s second city, and perhaps in some respects still is. I wish I had longer.  There is so much that I still haven’t seen or learned about but as so many cities claim to be modern metropolises, York’s claim to fame is its warped beauty and it remains an ancient artefact with its history is its greatest asset. York, I long to be back and to delve deeper into your layers of history.

York, England, United Kingdom

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Winsome Windsor

Fancy me being educated as I sat in the Boatman Pub by the River Thames and read William Woodsworth’s words on its wall.

How richly glows the waters breast
Before us, tinged with evening hues,
While, facing thus the crimson west,
The boat her silent course pursues!
And see how dark the backwards stream
A little moment past so smiling
And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam
Some other loiterers beguiling

Such view the youthful Bard allure;
But, heedless of the following gloom,
He deems their colours shall endure
Till peace go with him to the tomb
– And let him nurse his fond deceit,
And what if he must die in sorrow!
Who would not cherish dreams so sweet
Though grief and pain may come tomorrow

The beer helped wash down the good food as well. At the end of another day meandering and educating myself it’s always good to take stock of what I’ve seen. I’ve appreciated what I’ve learnt. History is a fascinating marker as we look to create our current and future lives. History never appealed to me at school – perhaps poor teaching and so many different historical eras were the issues. Of course, it could have been me to blame. I opted instead for geography and maybe links with travel was my thought process although I cannot recall having one!! I sometimes wonder how school may have been different had I made other choices than those made or shown the same enthusiasm as I have now.

I’ve been to Windsor countless times, yet I never tire of this place. My love affair with this town is perhaps shared by Her Majesty the Queen. Windsor’s evolution over time has been a result of its ideal strategic location. William the Conqueror first built a castle here as part of his western defences of London. Windsor was one of the 9 castles built around London to protect it from its enemies. Another of these 9 castles was the Tower of London. It is a day’s march between the two which was critical. William the Conqueror first built a motte and bailey structure. The castle now is no reflection of that former initial design. It is now an architectural masterpiece that takes centre stage and maybe takes your breath away upon first sight. A visit to the castle is a must, avoiding the coach loads of people. This is a difficult task but with unlimited visits for one year after the date of purchase on your ticket you will hopefully get a good visit should you return. Whenever you look at Windsor Castle (be that from the High Street or the river or wherever you choose in town) you see its dominating position. It has an ideal strategic position and its shadow is cast over the town. An exploration of the new town is a must and shouldn’t be ignored. This leads onto an enquiring nature of Windsor’s development as there is an old and new Windsor. The two towns are miles apart and downstream of each other with Old Windsor now a peaceful village along the river.

The castle is the oldest occupied royal residence in Britain. The castle has developed over its 1000 years of history from the time it was built by William the Conqueror in 1070 through many adaptions and alterations by different monarchs to surviving the great fire of 1992. King George V’s affection with Windsor resulted in his family’s surname change in 1917. His granddaughter, our current queen carries on the Windsor dynasty through to this day. A castle ticket allows access to the state apartments and St George’s Chapel. The state apartments boast a wealth of opulent furnishings and displays of artwork from the royal collection. Walking around these state apartments is at times mind blowing, the level of detail and beauty in each room being incredible. Modern life’s desire to capture everything on camera is strictly forbidden inside which I feel adds to its incredible charm. I would love to spend time capturing images of the ceilings that you see here, the angelic pieces of paintwork along with a room full of chivalric shields to name but a few. There are numerous amounts of weaponry displayed, all in pristine order. Also residing in the state apartments is the Queen Mary doll house. A truly remarkable and jaw dropping toy built by Sir Edwin Lutyens – it really must be seen to be believed.

After leaving the state apartments you walk around the iconic round tower. The tower is the centre piece of the castle and is home to the Royal Archives and photography collection. For a couple of months of the year you can pay extra for a tour which takes you to the top for incredible views of the castle, chapel and the town. When you leave the tower, you make your way into one of the finest churches of the land. Its incredible beauty was displayed in two recent, royal weddings that took place here. The chapel is the burial place of ten monarchs and if rumours are true then this will be 11 one day.

Whistle stop tours may drag punters by the bus load from London on crazy agendas, but I feel you could spend an age here exploring the history of the castle which is woven together with our rich national history. It is such a symbol of past Britain. When you can finally drag yourself away from the castle there is an abundance of pubs in which to enjoy a pint with the perfect view. Its amongst these pubs you find you will find Instagram’s favourite part of Windsor. The wonky house. Also known as Market Cross house, the following was taken from a visit inside:

Market Cross House leans quite a lot,
for eleven reigns it has stood on this plot.
No one knows why it tilts to one side.
could be the wood that never dried.
We like to think it’s a characterful tilt,
from 1718, when it was re-built.

From here walk under the arches of the Windsor and Royal Borough museum housed in the Guildhall, past the church of St John the Baptist on your left and one of the oldest post boxes of the land (dark green not normal red). Around the corner is a charming pub resting in front of the imperious gates that are the beginning of The Long Walk. Those not on a short trip should take the time to walk it as for some distance as you will get the best view Windsor Castle. Go the end of the walk (some miles) and you will get the iconic long distance view just like many have done down the centuries since Charles II formed the Long Walk. A copper statue of King George III upon a horse sits on top of the hill at the end of the walk and the statue has been made so that he looks back towards the castle. Is there a finer view in the land? Along the walk one passes through the royal deer park, and if the deer ‘play ball’ they provide great photographic opportunities.

After completing the walk return to the town and you’ll find an array of shops and eateries. Exploring the town will inevitably lead you to one of the two railway stations in the town. These brought further wealth to the town during Victorian times. The two stations are terminii. This proves that the railways and industrial revolution made its way to Windsor but there is no other further evidence to support this. Windsor’s wealth perhaps lies with its royal pardon in 1276. This meant that it didn’t have to pay any taxes to the crown. In 1840 a few years before the arrival of the railways Queen Victoria took up residence here and set about works on redevelopment of the castle. This brought a drastic change to the town, as it moved away from its sleepy medieval market past into a centrepiece of an empire. Heads of state were greeted and entertained here; a tradition that has long been continued to this day.

Windsor without the Thames is like bread without butter. Back in the day the Thames would have been the main travel link between here and London. A boat trip sheds light on the ideal strategic location of the castle. Much pleasure can be had from any pool of water.  Sadly, not in ownership of a boat I had to forego cruising along in my own vessel. I have done the tourist boat trips, but these are normally a damp squib. Instead I would recommend a free walk along the riverbanks on either side (the Eton side gives the better view of the castle) and witness the huge number of swans, but not to be distracted from the picturesque view.

So, as I sit and enjoy a refreshing pint, I try and understand William’s words and appreciate a real warmth for Windsor and try to work out why visitors to these shores don’t plan longer to visit this royal town.

Windsor, England, United Kingdom

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Henry’s Hampton

As my meanderings take me around these green and pleasant lands, I arrive upon the palace most famously associated with Henry VIII. This is yet another day for learning. I have documented in previous blogs how Henry left more of a ‘legacy’ than the stories of his 6 wives. In breaking from Rome and the Catholic church, he redefined state religion in England and by doing so created further years of chaos, passion and war. His new-found place at the head of the church created new rules, dioceses, and instructions to build cathedrals, to destroy abbeys and the relics inside. This new country didn’t happen overnight, but you get the feeling that some of the seismic powerplays were made from his own court set deep in the heart of Hampton Court. His traumatic and chaotic reign, and his deadly pursuit of a male heir provided arguably the most well-known eras of our history. It seems to me that no one’s head was safe back then. It seems as well that there are plenty of people who are keen to write ‘faction’ based on the evidence that we have of things that took place in Tudor times. Moreover, there are plenty of people who are willing to read what has been written such is the high level of general interest in our land.

We arrived at Hampton Court in dull and dreary weather but being far from home we weren’t going to let a few raindrops spoil our visit. We bought our tickets and walked the up longish drive to the main entrance. It’s hard to believe that this was once a farm site. Its distance from the ‘city centre’ probably means that the rules that determined and regulated what was deemed to be situated in London back then made this area what we would refer to as a green belt area. The city we call London, massive in comparison to what it was back then, stretches as far as Hampton but the palace to Westminster Abbey is a distance of some 15 miles. The palace’s idyllic location on the river Thames is upstream from the more modern centre of London and raises questions in my mind as to the machinations and intrigue that belong to the creation, development and history of London itself. Surely more meanderings must take place to fully understand how our capital has been created over the centuries. On first appearance the palace didn’t look very grand, but this may have been a trick of the lack of sunlight!! As I saw it the palace itself is very basic. The gardens at another time of year would no doubt look spectacular and, of course, there is the famous maze. Perhaps it is true to say that the palace shows its age due to its basic design. Nothing is obvious at first glance that this was a palace fit for a king, and a flamboyant one at that. It is perhaps this palace’s rich history that makes it so appealing for tourists and UK based visitors alike. I mean it was the former palace to one of England’s most famous kings.

There were many colourful characters in Henry version 8.0. The first one to mention is the famous Cardinal Thomas Wolsey. What a cardinal is, I have no idea, but I know that a cardinal’s uniform back then and still to this day is a vivid red garment. Perhaps some study and a visit into a Roman Catholic church may help workout what this title means. Cardinal Wolsey rose from humble origins (he was born in Ipswich to a butcher to become the most powerful Tudor in Britain – a visit to Ipswich will show the many ways that he is celebrated including one superb statue of him on the edge of the town). He became one of the most powerful and wealthiest men of his era and had a great interest in education. They say that his college at Ipswich could have rivalled the Oxford colleges if he had not fallen from power. One of the reasons that he was the arch enemy of some was his preference to worry more about international affairs than those of a domestic nature. This created a country full of jealously but yet with international respect. His loyalty to the king was never in doubt – he kindly gave Hampton Court Palace to his majesty before his demise. Thomas had acquired it 1514, and quickly set about making additions so that he could entertain his king and foreign dignitaries. He added driveways, courtyards and buildings to make it a palace fit for a king such was the measure of his ambition. As a religious man it was no surprise to me that one of the additions he made was the chapel. He probably didn’t envisage it being as grand as it is presented today though there is some talk that he wanted his tomb, in a day when tombs and memorials were grandiose, to be decorated with gleaming angels. Sadly, he passed away some 16 years later with very few friends and all his riches gone. In passing the palace on to Henry, and subsequent to the fallout with Rome, Henry had licence to design his own chapel. He had the superb fan vaulted ceiling installed (how did they do that back then? How would we go about doing it today?). As with all such ceilings (there are a good number throughout our country) it is a thing of real beauty and immediately captures your attention when you walk into the room. More additions to its beauty have been made over time but I will say that it is up there with some of the finest I have seen. It is the jewel of Hampton Court Palace and is perhaps a hidden treasure to many as pictures aren’t permitted. How blissful not to see it on social media feeds. The intricate carvings make for a wooden maze across the ceiling that capitative your view. Now adorned in gold and blue its hard to know whether this was Henry’s design or someone else’s. The cherubs holding aloft the crown and swords on features like stalactites provide the finishing touches.

Once Hampton was Henry’s he set about creating a magnificent palace for his mistress and future wife, Anne. Vast sums of money were spent adding even more to the palace than Wolsey had. Unsurprisingly mistress Anne never got to live in the palace as her fall from grace is well documented and at the speed of building back then they were never going to finish in time!! The additions made to the palace were to accommodate everyone that would be needed to rule the land. Privy chambers were added for Henry’s own purpose, a chamber was added for central government and an expansion of the kitchen area to deal with the increase in numbers now living there. The privy chambers that Henry had installed were supplied with running hot and cold water, something so rare back then. Oh, how the times have changed. Henry’s third wife gave him the son he craved and was baptised in the chapel. Jane’s sudden death meant that Henry probably fell out of love with the palace and building works were stopped. The palace then was the scene for the infidelity of Katherine Howard who, like Henry’s second wife, lost her head. Henry’s final marriage ceremony took place here at the palace, and as the saying goes, she did survive.

The palace got passed through the hands of Henry’s heirs. Firstly, his son became the owner. He was too young to rule even and, consequently, his lack of years meant he had little impact on the place. His oldest half-sister, more concerned about a false pregnancy and slaughtering many good men and women than beautifying a palace, had a short reign before the other famous Tudor monarchy took over. The golden years of Elizabeth 1st reign had little impact on the palace. She was not fond of it but added more kitchens and a coach house. So, this drew to an end the Tudor dynasty. Its legacy has been far more lasting than it could have imagined.

 

After the terrible Tudor times, there were slight developments during the Stuart period. The next formidable development came under William III, a Dutch man who reigned over England for 12 years at the back end of the 17th century. This is a part of our history of which I know very little but am told that it is highly significant especially as far as the way our country is ruled in 2020. He was around at the time of the French Revolution and there was a very different revolution and outcome across the water. He turned to the famous Sir Christopher Wren to modernise, design and improve the palace. In any walk around the palace his work may be seen. The ceilings are captivating and true arts of work. He was famous for rebuilding London after the great fire. His work was never fully completed as the crown passed through different generations but as you explore the rest of the inside of the palace it’s the work done in this era that makes it start to look like a palace associated with a king. Those incredible angels adorning the ceiling at times give you neck ache as you stare at the work. The Hanoverians were the last generation of the monarchy to live in the palace. It was left to courtiers who were favoured by the kings and queens as apartments to live. The palace was left in decline, but in 1838 the palace was given a new lease of life, its abundant history clearly a fascination for those Victorians. A similar fascination remains today, and the palace is owned by the queen. Queen Victoria opened it to paying visitors, just like it is today. Henry’s history had clearly left its mark even with royalty.

No visit to Hampton Court Palace should be made without seeing the gardens and the grounds. A car show meant that we couldn’t explore half of it, and the cloud and rain meant that our visit wasn’t as enjoyable as it might have been. The pond and privy gardens are immaculately maintained, manicured even, as you would expect – the hefty entrance fee helps to pay for all this work. A walk along the gardens to the edge of the property gives the best view of the palace and one fit for a king. To be fair, the grand designs and façade of the building here makes the building look more like a palace. From this angle the building looks magnificent even in the damp weather. So, as we leave the gardeners to brave the elements and make our way to a much-needed refreshments, we trace our way back through the courtyards. The palace itself is blessed with a number of good viewpoints, but the base court is basic and boring. The fountain court shows off Henry VIII’s private apartments. The best court is the clock court. Its name gives a clue as the to the source of its charm. Henry installed an astronomical clock, now over 500yrs old. It was built to depict the earth orbiting the sun. It also showed tide times which were important for those using the river to travel.

So as the damp and wet weather continues, I leave without the wow factor. There are many finer palaces and houses in this land. Perhaps had the sun shone we would have seen it in a different light. We can’t always be blessed with sunny skies. We left to return home; I was certainly filled with a desire to find out more about the intrigue associated with such a decisive yet divisive character.

Hampton Court, England, United Kingdom

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Lexicography in Lichfield

It was on a cold and wet winter’s day that I discovered Lexicography in Lichfield. By the time I had left I felt a warm affection for Lichfield. I still can’t believe that I have found another cathedral city. I thought I had visited most of them already, but this is another one to add to that list.


The term ‘city’ is a word we associate with large metropolitan monstrosities like Birmingham or Southampton, but England’s unique history allows for some truly interesting places to be called a city. How can a city with 10% of the required population for modern towns applying for city status be called a city?? A quick tour of Lichfield is just that. It is obvious to realise that it’s not very big but for a couple of centuries it had something its more illustrious neighbour didn’t have. When Henry VIII redrew the religious map, Lichfield was one of six towns which was given city status based on it having a cathedral. It now sits in the shadows of England’s second city Birmingham; whose growth and wealth meant its population of well in excess of 300,000 would ensure it was given city status. By the way, this rule was brought in by King Edward VII. Now hidden by its noisy neighbour it further illustrates the decline in religious power conceding it to that of commercial and population factors. Surely it is for this reason that the very existence of this charming place is known by only few people. I certainly knew nothing of it until I discovered it on a work trip and as part of my mission to visit every city in England.

The city itself has some interesting history associated with it. Once a prominent pilgrimage site, it was laid to siege three times during the civil war and is the birthplace of Dr Samuel Johnson. More on the cathedral and the good doctor later, but Dr Johnson claimed that Lichfield was a city of philosophers!!

Lichfield was founded around 600AD. There is some evidence to suggest that this was a trading post for the Romans on their way from London to Chester. Evidence is scarce for this hypothesis. St Chad later in the same century set up his bishop’s seat here. This led to it becoming a focal point of Christianity in the Kingdom of Mercia. Mercia was one of 7 Anglo-Saxon kingdoms in the country and along with Wessex and Northumberland was considered to be in the top three. It is argued that its capital, Tamworth, was the capital of the whole of England at a time. As a result of its high profile the town of Lichfield becoming a pilgrimage site as the remains of St Chad were buried here.

When the Norman’s took over the rule of this country, they commissioned a Norman cathedral to be built at the site. This cathedral would evolve over the years and would appear to have been a fortification as much as a place of worship! It took over 150 years to build and is apparently one of England’s smallest. This is always hard to gauge when you visit these places. The vast size of them is awe inspiring and one dares to think about how on earth they were ever built. Walking around the cathedral you notice that the spire looks hollow. Perhaps it fell down and an alternative was put in its place. The front façade is captivating. There are 113 figurines that have been carved in stone. The people represented are a mixture of kings of the lands to bishops most of whom I had never heard. A visit inside this huge space makes you feel very small in such a vacuum. Henry VIII of course had to have his say – he removed the shrine to St Chad. Some of the relics destined for destruction at that time were preserved and can be found in nearby St Chad’s in Birmingham. Upon leaving the cathedral and directly opposite it is ‘the close’ which is a collection of old cottages. The cathedral is on a slight hill and it was no doubt built here as the higher ground was chosen to build a stronghold to wave off attacks. The town was loyal to the king during the civil war. The town had been a staging post since Roman times, so was of importance for conveyance of troops and supplies. The hardships of the war were evident. By now Lichfield had become a city and one that was fought over and bruised. The cathedral itself was no different. Throughout its long history it has changed hands more than once. Lichfield’s troubles during the Civil War were exacerbated by the fact that the people were loyal to parliament and the authorities loyal to the king. A visit to the cathedral is fascinating as tales are shared with rumours of shots being fired from the spire and evidence of damage to the spire by way of shots fired in retaliation.


I finally managed to drag myself away and make my way into the small city centre. At its heart is the guildhall which is now a library.

It was next door to the guildhall that I discovered a fascinating museum. The rain was pouring down now and heavier than previously making a tour of unpleasant. I was looking for some respite and the mention of free entry on the sign enticed me in. Lichfield is the birthplace of Dr Samuel Johnson. To my shame, I knew nothing of this man. The grade 1 listed building was a trader’s townhouse but is now a museum dedicated to the great man. In 1777 he had this to say, “Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.”

A pleasant man provided an enthusiastic welcome and I was in!! An informative video along with many information display boards meant for an educational visit as I learnt what a lexicographer is. Lexicography is the compiling of dictionaries.

The doctor was the son of an impoverished bookseller before he made his way to London to make his fame and fortune. Before he made that trip to London, he took on the role of a teacher. One of his pupils, David Garrick, was to go on and become one of the leading actors of that time. The theatre in the town is named after him I believe. The doctor made many other memorable sayings. There was one in particular that stood out and was quoted on the wall, “You can never be wise unless you love reading”. I will admit to never have loved either reading or wanting to be wise, but, in a depressing modern world, inspiration has to be taken from these philosophical words. I must make another visit sometime for further inspiration.

So as my time in Lichfield draws to a close and further travels have to be made, I leave with this thought taken from a conversation the doctor had with James Boswell (he wrote his biography – it is said to be greatest in the land and surely something to add to my reading list), “I lately took my friend Boswell and showed him genuine civilised life in an English provincial town. I turned him loose at Lichfield.” What a sensible and profitable thing to do.

Lichfield, England, United Kingdom

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Lovely Lincoln

Lovely Lincoln – another city spanning the 2000yr history of Britain. Sounds familiar? Similar to the recent visit Characterful Chester. My job recently has taken me to all points of the compass of this land. I have questioned the logistics of this, and these trips haven’t always made me very happy, but on occasions it presents the opportunity to explore parts of the country not always accessible to me. Lovely Lincoln was my opportunity today; the sun was shining, and my appointment had cancelled. Not one to waste time but seize every chance offered to explore these green and pleasant lands I set off for the city of Lincoln. I perhaps should have completed some admin, but that can be completed in the evening when the sun isn’t shining. I’d heard rumours of its reputed beauty and that it was home to an impressive cathedral, but my knowledge of Lincoln was only its recent cup giant killing success as seen in the football on TV. I didn’t even have any childhood memories of being brought here. I’m sure that my father would correct me if this was the case. He has.

I parked the car legally in a car park adjacent to the castle. I had a quick scan of the local tourist boards to establish a route by which to walk. The car park I chose was ideally located close to the cathedral quarter which meant I avoided the modern metropolitan monstrosity that most people think makes a city. I, on the other hand, much prefer ancient architecture, an abundance of evidence of our history and charming shops and eateries. Lincoln somehow manages to play host to what I love and what I don’t love in cities. I set off at pace, with slightly cold fresh air filling my lungs and the autumnal sunshine beating down on my neck. The smile on my face gave it away. Fine weather on these ventures make me incredibly happy. Sunshine always helps when exploring and I find it adds to and enhances the intrinsic layers of beauty that some places exhibit.

Lincoln is a small cathedral city in eastern middle England. These small cathedral cities are rapidly becoming my favourite cities in England, if not the world. These cities were once the power houses of this country yet now they seem to play second fiddle to more modern places. There was good and bad that accompanied the Industrial Revolution. The Romans clearly had a good eye for a location as they laid down the first roots of this city. The Roman fort that was established on top of the hill has evolved throughout time, yet still remains after all the different eras of our history.

The perfect place to start was to examine the castle. Not until further exploring the city did it identify its perfect strategic location. It is not too far from the coast; was it perhaps the first line of defence for anticipated invasions of Britain? (I am reminded that no one has successfully invaded these shores since 1066) but back then the Romans may have thought so as they established a fort here. Once their era had finished and the Middle Ages commenced, it was time for the great influence of William the Conqueror, who invaded the city two years after his initial landings on these shores. He ordered that the castle and later the cathedral to be built on the former Roman fortifications. How lucky we were for his decisions, for the footprint he has left, which has survived the test of time. It is truly stunning. Perhaps things as they are now (decorative) are not according to the initial vision. The location for both on top of hill would have surely meant perfect defensive positions.

The castle to this day is immaculately presented from the outside. Its fortified walls every bit the castle image I had grown up to know. Strolling around the parameter of these walls there was no evident signs of a keep. A couple of round towers exist in the corners as expected to defend the wall. So with trepidation I stepped towards the main gate to enquire how much I may have to fork out to visit Lincoln castle. Both a pleasant surprise and unhealthy shock greeted me. Access into the castle and grounds was free… can you believe it, what a pleasant surprise? Then the shock… £8 to be allowed to walk around the walls. I almost dropped my camera. After visiting recent cities where city walls have been free to access, I couldn’t believe the fee that was being asked. No doubt they provide stunning views and need maintenance, but surely they cannot justify the price tag. Sorry Lincoln Castle, but no! A rather disheartening walk around allowed me to see the courthouse and Victorian building now located in its centre, but I ultimately left greatly disappointed.

Upon leaving the castle, with sun still shining I went in search of other charms rather than drag myself into the cathedral and lose that glorious autumn sunshine. I meandered my way along the cobbled paths that enhance the olde worlde feel of this part of Lincoln. Shoppers should delight in the unique boutiques and quirky shops that line the roads. Their bright, colourful facades even managed to tempt me in. Meandering around, my footsteps led me down Steep Hill – the connecting link between ‘downhill’ and ‘uphill’. A steep yet charming street of shops illustrating the point made above. Thoughts immediately turn to other similar locations that have been visited for comparison, with ones that spring to mind being in Quebec and Hovis Hill. Quebec, by contrast, is more steps than a steep pebbled incline, but similar in the range of shops and array of colours that adorn these streets. Hovis Hill can replicate the steepness and pebbled road aspect but is a residential area. In leaving the old behind I waltzed under the archways of the guildhall into the chaos of the new. Oh, take me to the old, narrow, quiet and charming quarter I had left behind.

But in search of visiting all of Lincoln’s history I had to grim and bear the hustle and bustle to get myself to Brayford waterfront. My route took me past the war memorial and an unloved church. Close by should be High Bridge, which is oldest bridge in Britain which still has buildings on it. Thankfully I managed to stumble upon that on my return back to more poetic surroundings. Some solace was found down by the Britain’s oldest inland port. Out of season waterways meant calming and undisturbed waters. These provided wonderful reflections of the city and highlighted the dominance that the cathedral plays in the cityscape, the castle hidden mostly by modern buildings. Now a hub of student life and modern entertainment there are still clear signs that this was once a thriving port. Many pleasure boats replace the steamboats and barges that would once have filled this port. During the 13th century, when Lincoln’s wool trade was thriving, so was the port. Decline set in but with every decline comes a resurgence. The connecting waterway was dredged and reopened which led to its heyday in the 18th/19th century. The port we see today would have been a much different picture back then. From here the decline came again as the railway arrived and the port was left to wrack and ruin. It now survived and has been turned around to a thriving pleasure destination.

So I left the waterways after finding the high bridge and retraced my steps up Steep Hill, past those appealing shops, round the corner and through the arches to the cathedral. Sadly, that grand entrance was greeted with the noise and clear disturbance of necessary renovation works. How annoying, but understandable, it must surely present a reason to return. A step inside one of England’s biggest cathedrals is a must, but a shocking fee of £8 to enter may put you off. I have to say I was put off by the fee and will add this as another reason to come back and visit. A wander round the outside confirms the enormous size of it and its unique design. Not like the other cross liked cathedrals in England, this Norman and Gothic combination is superb. Did you know that Lincoln cathedral was the tallest building in the world for 238 years? In 1311 the completion of the central tower replacement was done at 160m high. In 1548 this was blown down. Incredible bits of history on both aspects in the building of something so high and the fact it probably wasn’t very safe to be a builder back then.

So as I sit and enjoy the autumn sunshine, and compose the blog for this city I reckon that this is another jewel in the English crown that should be added to anyone’s itinerary and not ignored when visiting this country. I for sure will be returning to explore its history and surrounding area.

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Characterful Chester

It has taken two thousand years to create the Chester of today! The Romans established it as a port some 2 millennia ago and set up a fort here. The area was the ideal location for a gateway to the north. A lot has happened in Britain in the intervening time but there are still some Roman remains to be seen throughout the city. Parts of the wall are 2 millennia old. An amphitheatre can just about be made out along with some foundations in another location. Notes by one area close to the present town hall declare that the ruins on display are the remains of the heart of the fortress located at Deva.

 

My knowledge of English history prior to 1066 is much weaker than that of the post 1066 era though this says very little. It was in Saxon times that Chester’s first cathedral was built; it remains to this day but in the form of ruins next to the St John the Baptist church. Entry to these ruins is free and there are notes on display boards to assist people like me who have little understanding of this part of British history.

What was incredible to believe, as there was no evidence to back it up, was that this was once a key port! Chester sits on the river Dee which back then had not silted up, so it was accessible by boat. It was possible to reach Ireland by boat from here. During these times the city of Liverpool was nothing but 7 streets so, at that time, it was strategically more important than its famous Mersey neighbour. I have no idea what silting is (the dictionary says, ‘the process of becoming filled or blocked with silt and further says that silt is fine sand, clay, or other material carried by running water and deposited as a sediment, especially in a channel or harbour), but this was the main cause of the decline of Chester as a  harbour. As a result, docks were removed with the last one going as late as the 1960s.

The river passes around half the city and the city’s racecourse. This charming setting seems to be slightly neglected. There is a noticeable lack of waterfront pubs and eateries which mean that there are not large gatherings of people here. That is to be considered as an advantage. Perhaps this will come. After walking along the riverbank for a short while, the path and banks are overgrown. Perhaps this is the reason for people staying in the city centre. I can see that improvements could be made along these banks to entice folks away from the hustle and bustle.

In spite of this there are some iconic bridges to explore. The Grosvenor bridge, from which, incidentally, a superb view of the racecourse is possible, is impressive. It is one of 3 main bridges across the river Dee with the majority of traffic crossing into the city via this Grosvenor bridge. Walking across the Old Dee bridges gives a view of one of the four gates through the city walls. The city boasts the most complete walls in the country and are a wonderful way to start exploring the city as they give an idea of its size, structure and layout. With all walls there must be entrance points, and as my meanderings grow, I will begin to learn more about this, but a common theme might be that these gates are located at the points of a compass.

And so to the walls. As I trod along these walls it made me think about their very existence. Were they built to keep an enemy away and protect all that was encompassed by them? Why have they not remained in all cities? When walking these walls don’t be afraid to leave them for you never know what you might find either side of them. A castle? A blue coat hospital? Cannons that were used long ago? Walking along the walls as best as I could (repair works while I was there) I came across a round tower in the north eastern corner. It was constructed during the reign of Charles I, and now aptly named King Charles Tower. The city was loyal to Charles during the Civil War during the 17th century. It is alleged that Charles stood atop this tower and watched his army defeated at the battle of Rowton Moor. It would be difficult see as far as Rowton from this vantage point, but it may well have been that back then he saw soldiers returning from the affray.

Inside the walls is where Chester’s true charm is to be found in, believe it or not, its distinguished shopping area!! The iconic black and white, half-timbered, buildings have lower levels that are shops. It is almost as if delightful architecture and functionality have become entangled through dreamy, though no doubt deliberate, design and that these buildings have stood the test of time. The double delight of the 700 year old row galleries captivate your immediate attention. Their brilliant design was surely light years ahead of its time. These black and white façades still remain in the modern dysfunctional British high streets. Chester seems to have a lure for shoppers and results in busy and overcrowded streets. As these old designs have remained, they were clearly not designed for the amount of people that now overcrowd these streets and there is a definite sense of being hemmed in.

Not one for shopping and always pressed for time in these city visits I made my way to its cathedral. These cathedrals are located at the centre of most cities, and what were once the places where the heartbeat of the city was felt, now, sadly, sit as mausoleums. Chester’s cathedral was not one of my favourites. It is dark, dingy and ugly and could do with a good sandblast. Inside its dark nature owes much to its Victorian ‘restoration’. It’s home to colourful windows and is perhaps famous for its choir. It has weekly organ recitals, but, sadly, my visit tied in with some rather loud and dreary practice. A dour organ practice aside, there was the dreamy shopping mall, still sturdy walls that give the city a real sense of stronghold and leaves you captivated. A city etched with parts from the whole of Britain’s 2000-year history is really a ‘must do’ visit for all.

Chester, England, United Kingdom

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Central Coventry

The mission is to blog about every city in England. It has gathered pace recently assisted by my work taking me to “Central Coventry”. The title of this blog has been chosen as it is to do with the most central city in England.

 

As my meanderings take me around the country to see each city, I’m sure that there will be winners and losers. My views for each place may not be shared by all but here goes as far as Coventry is concerned which I rank down at the bottom of the list of best cities. Perhaps it was depression brought on by the rain bringing a damp end to the finale of another summer or an emotional state brought on by the civil war and battle lines that MPs were drawing up at Parliament. Whatever the cause, Coventry did not do anything to ameliorate the situation and was a major disappointment. Perhaps another visit in more favourable light and with stability in the political world to bring the mind on an even keel may do it justice….

I had been many times before. There is a family friend who lives there, and an educational childhood meant that I had been privileged to see the place from earliest days. Sadly, memories of the city itself do not abound (where is that childhood blog?).

I managed to find some free parking. As an aside, free parking in city centres might make people more inclined to visit. I strolled towards the city centre via an underground pass presumably under the ring road. It was here that the first impressions were made. One never gets a second chance to make a good first impression. Coventry’s first impression made a lasting impact and left me feeling rather uneasy and, for the first time in a while, unsafe. Homeless people were living in the shelter provided by the pathway under the road. Their ‘beds’ were made up and, clearly, there were no facilities.  Obviously, there was no bathroom and the stench of urine was pungent. Their contribution to this walkway was to leave needles for, no doubt, drug habits. What a terrible sight. As I discussed with a friend the other day, how did our society let it get to this?!

Rapidly leaving what seemed like a crime scene, I followed the signs to the city centre. I noticed a half-battered statue which looked like it had seen better days. This was another proof of the ignorance of our past. I had some strange looks as I tried to get a picture. Further investigation showed the statue to be of James Starley, creator of the bicycle. Coventry became a major bicycle manufacturer which then led to Coventry becoming a major centre in the British motor industry. This led to the formation of a British brand of car, Rover. I can still recall seeing many of these cars on the road when I was younger but as more countries have created their own car brands, so the British ones have almost disappeared, as we now import cars from all over the world. There are still some surviving parts of this legacy; Jaguar has its headquarters in this area and the transport museum shows the motor history associated with the city.

The city centre is now a polar opposite to bygone days with shops selling modern fashion brands, intertwined with coffee shops and abandoned stores. There are people off their heads screaming and shouting about needing a toilet for all the word to see and hear. All round homeless people lie waiting for the generosity of many, yet so few of that many are prepared to give. People are connected like robots, but, alarmingly, with an inability to switch off and see what is all round them. Where did it all go so wrong? What can be done? I was very harsh about Vancouver having this problem, but I also said that this city didn’t stand alone in this world.

At the heart of the city centre is a statue to Lady Godiva. Legend has it she rode through the city naked, only covered by her long hair to stand up against the taxes her husband placed on the city. The event took place circa 1066-1086, and the statue is there to remind the interested visitor the history behind the city. Although history is perhaps a big game of Chinese whispers, the legend has been remembered to this day. Leaving this statue you are immediately drawn to the dominating features of this city, the last remains of part what was once England’s finest medieval city. Hitler and the Nazi air raids led to the “Coventry blitz” or “operation moonlight sonata” and this onslaught put paid to the major part of Coventry’s past as the blitz was one of the most destructive of its kind. Coventry’s central location and supplier of many things required for the war meant it was a prime target. The devastation caused is particularly shown by the old cathedral the remains of which still stand. Sadly, a lot of the damages caused were beyond repair and a new city needed to be rebuilt.

Perhaps the best way to describe the old cathedral is walls but no roof. It is as if the roof has been blown off with the outside wall structure being defiant. Perhaps this has been left as a reminder of not just the human life that was lost in the war, but the devastation of lands. The city decided that instead of rebuilding the cathedral it would build a new one next to it. A step inside this soulless modern monstrosity confirmed my opinion that we really must appreciate those incredible cathedrals that have survived time, and carve such an identity on our cityscapes.

Located around the edges of the cathedral lie the 14th century guild hall and Holy Trinity church. Both buildings are excellent displays of ancient architecture. I would appeal to anyone to visit both, not just for a civic ceremony but to witness such architecture.

So it is with slight sadness in my heart, that Coventry didn’t steal it, but instead left me questioning the state of the world in which we live.

Coventry, England, United Kingdom

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Terrific Tewkesbury

Whisper it quietly but I think I have just discovered one of England’s finest towns. As I’m on a mission to blog about every city in England it was surprising that I ended up here. What a surprise it was to discover this place. I am torn between broadcasting Tewkesbury’s virtues and whispering about this place to help preserve its excellence and keep it one of Britain’s great secrets. This town has a beautiful waterside setting, at the confluence of the rivers Severn and Avon. Go and learn, discover even, about the town’s rich and vibrant history. It has certainly inspired me to explore another part of England’s intriguing history.

At the heart of the city lies the imposing feature of the town scape. The Abbey! A step inside immediately blows your mind, as it’s almost as impressive as the abbey near to my home in Sherborne. As I’ve mentioned before, when you think of abbeys in this country you would think of them all being ruins as a result of the dissolution, but not this one. It has retained its relevance at the heart of the city with its Norman tower, 12th century ceilings and stained glass windows. The abbey’s survival is, in large part, down to the town buying the abbey from Henry VIII for 435 pounds.

I’m not going to write a history lesson about the War of the Roses or the main people involved. This is mainly due to the fact I need to give myself a history lesson first of all. I know that it was the red versus the white rose. I can remember the name Richard III as being king in this era, and I’m aware of a saying,  ‘A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.’ So the only real knowledge I have is of the passionate cricket match that is served up, it seems, at least twice a year between Yorkshire (white rose) and Lancashire (red rose) and how this has been more than just a sporting rivalry stretching back some 600 years. Some serious research must be made to discover more about yet another fascinating part of our history. Perhaps if those people in Hollywood who can’t think of any decent films to make could start looking at British history for inspiration rather than subjecting us to all their remakes.

Tewksbury was the location for a significant battle in the War of the Roses. It surprises me that these two northern counties fought here for supremacy and not closer to their home, but this might have something to do with the return of an exile from France. Something else to research and try to understand – were the shires much larger back then? Or were there less of them than the current number of counties in England. The scene of the battle was played out to the south of the town. The area where the battle took place is known to this day as ‘Bloody Meadow’. Each year the site plays host to re-enactments of the event although they are always scheduled for a time in the year after the anniversary of the actual event no doubt to draw the most crowds. Surely a return visit to Tewkesbury in July of next year is a must, as the medieval town comes alive with wannabe actors reliving those famous tales.

I presume that such a festival brings about an incredible display of colour as a large number of flags relating to the noblemen who fought in that battle adorn shops, inns and houses throughout the town. Does this splash of colour remain all year round? The Tewkesbury Battlefield Society is responsible for all of this colour and information and has done a fine job.

These streets are Tudortastic. Anyone who loves old architecture should strive to visit this time warped town. The layout and buildings have been preserved.  The town seems to have barely altered throughout the ages as black and white timber framed Tudor buildings line the streets, their upper storeys overhanging lower ones to create a truly special high street. Throw in the colourful flags and you have quite the picture. I was amazed at how many different buildings there were and upon a little research was blown away to understand there are some 345 listed buildings in the town. It was also noticeable that the high street had no ‘to let’ signs out. We must surely be looking at what this place does right to ensure filled shops.

The fact that the town is surrounded by flood plains, rivers and meadows means its expansion hasn’t happened and it has retained its long and narrow profile. Instead it has left a tiny footprint of times gone by, and one of the land’s finest townscapes! I beg everyone to discover this wonderful town; you will probably be blown away just like me. For now, though, I will posit that not enough of our incredible history is covered in our education system (I can understand why people don’t want to complete an exam in history, but as we need to reidentify ourselves as a nation, we shouldn’t ignore our past. Perhaps British history should be made a core subject throughout all year groups). I will go now to discover its history and secrets for myself, and, as a local old couple remarked to me, try not to attract too many visitors here.

Tewkesbury, England, United Kingdom

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Haggard Hereford

I am struggling to write down the words to describe my visit to Hereford and perhaps that is the biggest indication of how I feel about this place. Normally I am a lover of England’s smaller cities but this one didn’t get the juices flowing as in other city visits. Its apparent lack of history and architecture leaves me pained me to say that it left me feeling disappointed.

Arriving in the evening and capturing the cathedral reflections down by the river was the highlight, and what a highlight it was! As the sun warmed the stones of the cathedral, that heat appeared to reflect onto the River Wye, creating a perfect, picturesque, English view. What a pleasant way to enjoy the last of the “winter” sunshine. As the run fest in the Caribbean One Day International (cricket) unfolded on my phone in front of me, it was amazing to sit on an upper, roof top, level of a pub, in great company and enjoy perhaps the warmest day ever in February since records began. A backwards reflection on this experience must seriously raise the questions, as always, of global warming and the effects each and every one of us is having on this planet. A 20-minute walk along the river bank in the hope of catching the sunset in a better way was disturbed by the trees and hills blocking the view.

On waking up perhaps it was the rain that made for the impression of Hereford being a tad disappointing. The whistle stop tour took us back through the high street to the cathedral for our customary visit. How can these cathedrals that, as a general rule, give these cities their status not be visited? During our walk along the high street a comment made about there appearing to be an awful lot of ‘to let’ signs on display. As our ever-struggling high streets evolve, albeit in survival mode, Hereford’s seemed to be in need of catch up. There must be balance, however, between old and makeover.

There is a beautiful, glorious even, 17th century black and white building that appears to stand alone and almost unloved. The bull in front of this building is surely a token gesture to appeal to visitors. I think it reflects the city’s association with the Hereford Bull. Sadly, building works and reconstruction left the area ugly but this has to be done some time. My regret was that this was underway while we were there and added to my malcontent state.

It was with haste that strides were made back to the cathedral. A step inside was greeted by a couple of welcoming ladies who tried to sell the place its USP being the Mappa Mundi (map of the world with Hereford at its centre and Jerusalem prominent!!) and the chain library (one of only three left in the country). It was decided to pass on the opportunity, as so much time was spent exploring the rest of the cathedral. The cathedral itself was dark and mysterious, although I can’t say cold as some interesting devices were pumping heat out. This cathedral is not as glorious as previous ones visited, and clearly looks to be struggling to survive in this modern world where religion is forgotten. It left me slightly sad to think that this place hadn’t wowed me as much as other religious buildings visited.

Stepping back outside into the rain, it was customary to get the picture that seems to be over all the local websites/booklets – Edward Elgar, a famous classical English composer, looking at the cathedral from his bike. He apparently lived here for a few years of his life. A visit was made to his birthplace on the way, but it didn’t look very appealing so the route to Hereford was made. A wander back through town in the rain to pick up the car and make tracks into the Brecon Beacons where the next adventure awaited.

Hereford, England, United Kingdom

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Wowed by Worcester

The trip north was made up the M5 leaving glorious Gloucester behind in search of Worcester. My only knowledge of this place was of its much talked about and charming cricket ground and its famous sauce. On arrival I wasn’t completely wowed, as traffic jams, a police raid and having to find the accommodation didn’t impress. An afternoon stroll and a new day of exploration in Worcester really did change those first impressions and left me wowed. Thank goodness that those people in council didn’t go ahead and destroy much of this wonderful city.

The city’s very existence can be attributed to its association with Britain’s longest river, the Severn. Its source is in the Welsh mountains and it connects to a large estuary. It passes through the beautiful countryside of Shropshire before it meanders around the edges of Worcester and moves on to Gloucester. As it flows through the city, it is overlooked by the imperious and magnificent red sandstone cathedral. Modernisation and the construction of ugly concrete buildings dominate our most historic cities these days and form an unattractive modern cityscape. How nice it was to be thrown back and wowed by parts of Worcester.

That first walk took us through the modern city centre and contributed to those first impressions. A quick stop at the tourist information centre pointed us in the right direction to find the charms of this place, and, oh boy, they didn’t disappoint.

I could have spent all day in this cathedral. Many photos were taken which should, hopefully, portray the magnificence and my fascination with and appreciation of this beautiful and dramatic building. It rises above the cityscape and rests proudly along the banks of the River Severn. From the one side, and at the time I was there the sun wasn’t, it is dark, gloomy and mysterious, but houses a couple of interesting monuments. Where the sun does shine, it helps magnify its splendour. The sun’s light and heat empower the colour of this wonderful building. Like the nearby cathedral in Gloucester this is also a royal graveyard. Centred in the middle of quire (ancient word for choir) is the grave of the notoriously ‘bad’ King John, perhaps famous for his signature on the Magna Carta. I like to remember him from my young days as the arch enemy of Robin Hood. This should also draw me to visit Nottingham and Runnymede on my discovery of England and revisit some of those childhood memories. I can well remember being taken to see ‘Tales of Robin Hood’ in Nottingham as a kid. There are several graves in the cathedral, but another one in the cathedral that has major relevance is that of the cousin of Elizabeth 1. Worcester cathedral is the final resting place of Arthur, eldest son of Henry VII who would have been king instead of Henry VIII. His early death, followed by Henry VIII marrying his widow, Catherine of Aragon, lead into surely the most fascinating part of English history. Apparently, Arthur’s body was carried from nearby Ludlow (30-35 miles away from Worcester and another place to visit) to rest here; imagine the ceremony and procession for this event. The ceiling in this place was mind blowing.

On that first walk into the city there is evidence of the city’s involvement during the civil war on a bridge and also a number of markings on my tourist map.  Maybe a visit to the Commandery museum may have shed some more light on this. I can see that I am developing a theme in that there is so much to see and learn about this country’s history and just never enough time. Perhaps more could have been made of the city’s relevance to the war. If only I had some more time. Isn’t it incredible that some of this nation’s biggest talking points keep cropping up in these visits.

The town had some absolute gems. Walking through the modern town one is immediately stunned by the beautiful guildhall. Dating back to 1721, it has a rich history and once housed a prison. Now it is home to an art collection, which, sadly, couldn’t be visited. Another gem is Friar street! Be captivated as you walk along it’s cobbled streets adorned on either side by Tudor housing, shops and pubs. Yes, modern shops and eateries have appeared, but they have retained the outside black and white facades that adorn the street. Walking along the street, you marvel at the crooked beams still standing 500 years on and wonder how they do so. The National Trust has restored one of them but how many were lost? A visit to the street must be a made to appreciate the buildings. Leaving this street, it was pointed out to us by a friendly landlord that we should visit another church. Rumour has it, this was the church in which William Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway? A quick visit to see only showed a post in front of the church, perhaps this is something that needs to be explored on a further visit.

As you can tell this place has wowed me, I shall be returning to watch the cricket and getting to enjoy this place. Worcester!!! Till next time.

Worcester, England, United Kingdom

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Glorious Gloucester

The next stop on my mission to blog about every English city took me to glorious Gloucester. Water, architecture and history merge together to form another favourite English city of mine.

Its Roman roots, awesome architecture, historic docklands, glorious cathedral have won me over and will surely be worth revisiting. Over 2000 years of history have shaped this place. Its strategic location doesn’t appear to me as obvious as say Bristol down the road, but it has clearly been an important location in this country’s historic past.

Ruins grace the park and school near the cathedral and show the turbulent past that abbeys and minster churches once knew. Even at first sight it’s hard to disagree with the description of the cathedral as one of the country’s finest medieval. It’s incredible to imagine how this grand and impressive building was ever constructed back in those days. Think of the troubles, the legislation, delays and spiralling cost we would surely have seen were it built today. Would we have the skill or devotion to do so? Inside the cathedral is the graveyard of royalty. Edward II is buried in the cathedral along with the son of William Conqueror. The stained glass does not let much sunlight in and walking around inside can make the place feel dark and gloomy. ambiance highlights At times picture taking is difficult as the light varies. Despite this, and probably because they had a lot of equipment to enhance the lighting, Warner Brothers were clearly impressed as they made it a location for not one but for two Harry Potter films. The cold chill around the cloisters meant for a quick photo and didn’t mean I searched for that famous instagram post. After visiting it might be bold of me to say that it is perhaps not one of my favourite cathedrals although free entry is always a bonus, and the stained-glass windows shouldn’t be ignored being perhaps some of the best I’ve seen.

Outside the cathedral and bathing in the heavenly winter sun are some blocks telling the tale of the city’s past. Just behind them as you leave the cathedral behind you and hidden down a side street adjacent to the cathedral is a fascinating museum! Although it has the appearance of a shop the museum is in memory to Beatrix Potter. Free entry again means it should be a must for anyone visiting the city. A step inside and we were greeted by a humble and dear old man who welcomed us with tales of the history of the shop and its links to Beatrix Potter’s ‘Tailor of Gloucester’. Her talents have probably been appreciated by us all, and clearly mean something to the passionate volunteers.

The streets of the city centre seemed ghost like first thing in the morning; by lunchtime a buzz and atmosphere was flowing around as I left the cathedral in search of docks. There were small scatterings of shops abandoned, the now common ‘to let’ sign in the window but didn’t seem as noticeable as in other cities. An intricate piece of art sat about a jeweller’s shop – a highlight and delight. Sadly, a number of the churches dotted around the city were inaccessible due to closures because of funding and safety issues yet another sign of the ever changing landscape of beliefs of the people in this country.

Part of Gloucester’s rich heritage was its waterways as the canal was built to link the city with the coast through the port of Sharpness. The warehouses around the harbour stand as proud beacons to Britain’s most inland port. Sitting on the harbour edge, the buildings provide near perfect reflections as the sun sets on another winter’s day. The warehouses probably don’t serve the purpose for which they were once built but thankfully they have remained and taken on a new identity. On the outside these warehouses still look the same, proudly displaying their names; on their inside pubs, restaurants and accommodation spring up to adorn what is now a modern ‘dockyard’. Small boats/barges replace the larger vessels that once were there to unload their cargo. The only memories are the odd railway crane and track. Oh, how times move at pace.

So as I drag myself away from this glorious city, and head further north to Worcester, I can reflect on the joy of a wonderful discovery, and look forward to returning here again in the future.

Gloucester, England, United Kingdom

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Superb Sherborne

My latest meanderings take me less than 6 miles down the road to arguably one of the England’s finest towns, Sherborne. Located so close to my current home, it’s crazy to think that I haven’t blogged about this place sooner. Living so close, it has always been a destination that I am proud to show friends and family when they visit me. The town has everything.

Located in northwest Dorset, superb Sherborne is a beautiful market town with a combination of buildings that reflect its history, education, culture, shops, art, antiques and religion. The town is built around an abundance of brilliant medieval buildings. These are interspersed with more modern buildings around the town. The high street is a mixture of these old and new buildings. This main street is lined with charming cafes, attractive and independent shops, which make for, based on my limited knowledge of English towns, a uniquely thriving town centre. My friends and family members love the shops and the market when it is in town.  The pedestrianisation of the main high street (most of the time) also adds to this love affair. At the heart of the town, and perhaps the jewel in Sherborne’s crown, is the Abbey. A case could be made for this being even biggest jewel in the whole of the land. That of course is up for debate!

Initially built as a Saxon cathedral, the abbey has been standing for over 800 years. The magnificent medieval structure is a sight to behold. Sometimes referred to as ‘Dorset’s Cathedral’, its ochre-coloured hamstone makes for a vivid view as you stare in awe. As brilliant, or more so, on the inside as on the outside it reminds me of the saying ‘that true beauty is on the inside’. A step inside not only confirms that statement but adds evidence to that whole argument. A frequently heard word by all accounts, and one that was used as I entered. Recently is “WOW”!!!! Perhaps it’s the best way to react on sight of the fan vaulted ceiling. Everyone stands almost awe struck as they look up. Even upon entering for the umpteenth time, I still take a moment to appreciate the splendour of this remarkable architectural achievement. What was once a Saxon cathedral, then a Benedictine abbey and now is a parish church under the auspices of the Church of England, this place offers oodles of fascination and history with the changes throughout time and the associations adding a layer of intrigue. The current beauty and peace within perhaps do not reflect its historic, turbulent past. The fact that it has survived prompts the question why considering our country’s chequered past. Remember the majority of abbeys were destroyed during the reign of Henry VIII. Perhaps the main reason Sherborne’s Abbey is still standing in all its glory is because George Digby provided a lot of cash for the renovations of the 19th Century. A memorial to commemorate this is situated in front of the abbey.

A little further from the centre of town is some more of the previously mentioned medieval architecture that the town boasts. It doesn’t have just one castle but two! The old castle, a 12th century effort built by the former chancellor of England and bishop of Salisbury is now a romantic ruin. It made its way into the hands of Sir Walter Raleigh after he fell in love with the area on a trip from Plymouth to London. He tried to renovate the old castle but failed and instead he built a Tudor mansion for guests in 1594 which is now referred to as the New Castle and home of the Digby family since 1617. The old castle became ruins after two sieges during the 17th civil war.

Sherborne school is one the country’s great public schools. Its original name was King Edward VI boys’ School.  It was founded during the reign of Edward VI in 1550 and built on the remains of the abbey. Its proximity to the abbey this day is evident when exploring the abbey. We are lucky enough to have education for all in this country and that wasn’t always the case. Mr Kenelm Wingfield Digby, a resident of Sherborne Castle, decided that a girls’ school, similar to the long established boys’ public school was needed in the town in 1898. This second school was finally opened in 1899. Over 100 years on I was lucky enough to work with school for a number of years.

I hope that my next visit to Sherborne isn’t as tour guide to friends and family but is just down to the sheer love and fascination of this town. There is probably so much more to discover than what I have mentioned in the above……..until next time………

Sherborne, England, United Kingdom

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Delightful Dartmouth

A regular destination on my meanderings and one of my favourite spots in England is what I consider to be the unique and delightful maritime town of Dartmouth. It boasts history, castles, architecture, boats and an iconic college. A combination of nostalgia and the nautical make for a charming and atmospheric town. Its deep-water port made for its strategic importance and the town has been built up the steep banks of the River Dart. The Dart river flows from its source on Dartmoor and upstream is Totnes (see blog).

Dartmouth on the one bank of the river sits opposite the town of Kingswear. Kingswear is like the mirror image of Dartmouth, with both possessing a castle, streets adorned with quaint and colourful houses, and a church. It was only last week that a friend remarked that it’s like a scene from Balamory. For all their similarities, Kingswear boasts something that Dartmouth doesn’t – a railway line! It terminated at Kingswear after someone realised it wouldn’t be possible to get a bridge across the river!! Sounds a bit like Brexit planning. That didn’t stop Dartmouth, this side of the river estuary, building a railway station in anticipation of the line that never reached it!! The railway station building is a striking sight as you approach it from the river perhaps from a ferry crossing or on one of the superb boat tours. Rather than destroy the building due to the absence of a railway line meant that the building became a general ticketing office for a while, and these days, a charming café!!

This branch line on the other side is no longer part of the national rail services. Instead it has become part of the heritage scene with a steam train running the 7miles from Paignton. Each train that arrives or departs is laden with tourists/enthusiasts making the evocative, emotional and gorgeous journey. It has been a common way for me to arrive here from earliest days, and one that perhaps everyone should consider making. There is a poetic feel to arriving as people did in times gone by and surrounded by England’s green and pleasant lands en route. After disembarking and crossing the river (by ferry and not bridge!!), you can sit on the edge of the harbour and watch the steam train puff along the river edge back to where it came from.  This scene that is repeated throughout the day.

A visit to Dartmouth should be to enjoy the river. It is a hive of activity, but no vessel seems to bump in to another. Its strategic importance cannot be ignored as it was home to the Royal Navy since as far back as the reign of Edward III. A walk to the castle takes you past the Warfleet Creek where several boats were made as far back as the 12th Century. During the Spanish Armada, Dartmouth provided ships for the English fleet and a captured Spanish vessel was docked in the town. The town has been home to the Britannia Royal Naval College since 1863. The iconic college has been at the forefront of education and development of naval officers with the imperious building sitting proudly on the hill and overlooking the beautiful town and estuary. It was where her Majesty Queen Elizabeth met her husband. The river plays host to a famous regatta in summer months.

If crabbing off the quay isn’t what you are looking for, the charming Elizabethan streets provide some independent, fashionable outlets. The pubs allow you to spill out from inside and onto the edge of the river to enjoy your pint of choice. Recently I made the walk from the town to the castle having made it on boat previously. Not a member of the English Heritage, the entrance fee to the castle wasn’t paid but instead an exploration of St Petroc’s church along with a customary spend in the coffee shop for refreshments and cake took place. From this point you can pick up the South West coastal path and go off to explore Castle and Compass Coves. This is highly recommended though not in the mud and after a few wet and snowy days (a spectacular fall).

My love of history, fascination with boats of any shape and size, and sense of calm and pleasure that any expanse of water brings, shows why Dartmouth is one of my favourite places in England. Those who have visited with me endorse my approbation, and those who will join me in the future will, no doubt, agree that this town is an absolute delight.

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Dreamy Dunster Didn’t Dim

Living in Somerset I cannot ignore the charms of Dreamy Dunster any longer. The charms of this medieval village with its castle which is to be found just inside the Exmoor National park were, for so long, wasted on me. It was here that I spent the penultimate night stay on my End to Enders cycle ride (I will be posting the blog of this experience on its 5th anniversary in April) and regularly the scene of drunken cricket tours. Sadly, its true beauty was never quite appreciated. I do recall walking between pubs on one tour and rather merrily remarking at a quintessential English garden.

Sadly, that tour and its fun no longer exists, so there are to be no more of those muddled memories. Last year I managed to visit the village twice. The first visit was made in beautiful autumn sunshine and the second time for Dunster by candlelight. The first visit was in great company and daylight and confirmed what a dreamy place this was.

There is no better place to start a visit to Dunster than in its aforementioned castle. After a short, steep, plod up its motte, this immaculate looking building doesn’t give the romantic notion of a battle hardened, historic castle. What was once a medieval stronghold was given to the National Trust after a family called it home for 600 years. It disappoints me slightly that it doesn’t resemble my imagination of a former bastion, but that disappointment doesn’t linger for long.

The visit inside had to be paused at regular intervals for photos, and I also had to break off proceedings to admire the steam train move adjacent to the coast as it left Dunster station. Such an image! Puffs of smoke disturb the view as the train moves slowly across the landscape – there is something rather poetic in its motion. Upon leaving the building and meandering over its hilly grounds, we found some solace at the bottom of a hill. I am blessed with photo opportunities, none more so than the river and a working mill. Through the odd gaps in the trees you get a glimmer of the charming village that sits in the shadow of this castle. After taking all the pictures I could, it was time for a quick ice cream and then off to visit the village.

Walking around you could easily be overwhelmed by the beauty of this place. This tiny village, an interwoven web of slate and thatch propped on wooden foundations would probably only need a single, lit match carelessly discarded to bring the place to ash. It is such a haven from modern, advanced, architecture it has so much more appeal than the jungle of a city like New York (see recent blog). A real sense of pride and ownership adorns the town throughout.

Wanting to take a picture of almost every building I was distracted and drawn in to a beautiful gallery. Almost every painting was of tall ships. I clearly share the same passion as the artist, and though not a massive fan of art I was incredibly appreciative of David Deacon’s work. Now a proud owner of a picture of his work it was worth daring inside to be amazed at his art rather than the normal ignorance on display at these places.

It’s here that I turn my mind back to the second of my visits, an occasion when Dunster didn’t dim. Sadly, this visit coincided with a time when I was having to prop myself up on crutches. I came for an event that was billed at being by candlelight. I was left a little bewildered by the amount of electricity being consumed in the town. Rather mistakenly I thought they turned off the power locally for this event and we were about step back in time, guided by candlelight alone as we walked those darkened and dim streets. Disappointingly there were only half a dozen candle lights there, perhaps as a token gesture as the bright lights of shops and pubs teased you to enter. Rumours are that the castle dimmed its power; if it did, I applaud it. Sadly, I was left slightly disappointed at what we witnessed, had health and safety prevented a step back in time or did the high street get greedy and try and feed on the good will of the people supporting a charitable event.

Not to be a hater of all things, the evening that promised so much will not diminish the happy meanderings of Dreamy Dunster. For on that wet evening, in great company, crutches and all,  Dunster itself didn’t dim.

Dunster, England, United Kingdom

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Marvellous Mottisfont

After being let down yet again by today’s youth at my place of work, and rather than rush home to compile a report of the day’s failings, I took the opportunity to visit another National Trust property and seize the moment presented to me. Due to my location the choice was easy enough, although it meant a longer route home. The name of Mottisfont meant nothing to me, but it had cropped up on my recent visit to Romsey. Rather than study the A to Z road map, the post code was put into the sat nav and the easy 9-mile drive was made.

I left Southampton and drove past the charming Romsey which was the destination of another trip made in December which was also made to alleviate the stress caused by the same issue mentioned above. As this trip was completely unplanned, I didn’t let the fact I was only armed with the camera on my phone to deter me. I guess there is perhaps some positives to modern technology in that we are always able to capture any moment in one way or another rather just trying to memorise it.

After signing in and getting my map, I crossed a bridge at the end of which a sign said, ‘The first sign that spring is around the corner is…..’ Upon walking around said corner, I was distracted as the house dominates one’s view. Completely attracted by the house and river flowing by I began to search for the perfect spot for the obligatory reflection photo. Rather fortuitously I noticed the beautiful, white, drop bell-shaped flowers that are just starting to bloom and to which the sign referred. The snowdrops are in bloom. As the threatening clouds gathered, and the chilly wind seemed to sweep across the country, my mind thought on the never-ending talk of Brexit and my disappointment, distrust even, of politicians and the fiasco they have contrived to produce. It seems an ill wind that blows across these shores at the moment. All was forgotten, both physical and metaphorical, by the bright and wonderful distraction and attraction these flowers are. A stroll along the river Test follows the snowdrop trail.

Can it be believed that this was once a weekend family home? The size and location beggar belief. A step inside and one is immediately greeted by the family’s love affair with art. I am not yet a fan of art and I didn’t hold much hope of enjoying the visit inside, but with a cold winter wind and no sun it was a place of refuge. I enjoyed two rooms, the nostalgia of these studies, rooms full of books, old cameras, ancient sports equipment, board games, musical instruments, etc. The books always grab my attention – perhaps they are the biggest evidence of something that once was – but one in particular caught my eye. ‘Home Guard Manual 1941’ immediately reminded me of those sayings like, ‘we’re not proper soldiers’, ‘put that light out’ and ‘you stupid boy’ from the many episodes of the inimitable Dad’s Army shown over Christmas.

The former owners were clearly art fanatics. The house now being in the hands of the National Trust the tradition associated with the house has been continued. On the top floor was the first of 4 exhibitions to be held throughout the year. Surprisingly I made the walk up the large staircase to have a look. The view that greeted me was a bold green wall with 4 or 5 pony cartoons. The artist responsible for these spent the last quarter of a century of his life in Hampshire. Norman Thelwell lived in the Test Valley at Timsbury near Romsey. After looking at one I was immediately captivated by Thelwell’s depiction of these creatures and joined in with the laughing made out loud by the observers of his work. As the title of the exhibition was laughter and landscapes, I certainly had a few laughs at the brilliance of these comics. What therapy at the end of a trying day.

Apart from these adorable cartoons, Thelwell produced some gorgeous landscape paintings. Some of these scenes I recognised. One painting was of Salisbury cathedral which was the subject of another recent trip. As my route home took me through Salisbury, I thought what better than to try to find the view Thelwell used. So, as I sit and write this blog from the Old Mill at Harnham I wonder if I have found an artform or an artist that I appreciate. As work continues to bring me back this way, and there are 3 other exhibitions planned for the year, I expect to return to marvellous Mottisfont.

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Romsey Ramble

Located 7 miles northwest of Southampton and 11 miles southwest of Winchester and sitting on the banks of the River Test is the ancient and charming market town of Romsey. My latest adventure was a flying visit utilising the little daylight left at the end of the working part of the day and before the commute home. I try to maximise what I can do during these short and sharp winter days.

Although brief the visit was well worth it. I discovered something new to me. At the heart of the town is the ancient abbey which dates back to 907 AD. It was re-founded in 967 AD as a Benedictine Abbey of nuns. Just like the last abbey I visited, it managed to survive the monastic dissolution thanks to the faith and foresight of four ‘Guardians’ of the abbey who petitioned Henry VIII and brought the church for £100. Abbey revenues were, however, confiscated and to this day it relies on generous donations from visitors.

A step inside and I was greeted by an enthusiastic member of the church who was quick to pounce and explain the Abbey’s history!! Sadly, its unattractive outside appearance mirrored what was on the inside. The winter’s day and lack of sun didn’t add to its appeal. It was cold, dull and dreary, the wooden ceiling and stone work giving it an authentic appeal of dating back to the 10th and 16th centuries. Plain and simplistic in appearance it doesn’t show off splendour or wealth like other places of worship. The Abbey now plays host to several musical concerts, perhaps to help sustain its very existence, and is a confirmation of how these once wealthy establishments now try to find a way to survive in this ever-changing world. A revisit to enjoy one of these might be worth it both for myself and the good of the church.

I left the abbey as pupils from a local school steadily filed in for what was perhaps their Christmas concert. I retrace my steps back through the archway of another church. This was once the gateway to the abbey. Sadly, the church was locked up. Around part of this church/gateway runs a stream, which on further investigation may prove to be part of the river Test. A stroll around the medieval town, whilst dodging the silly sales people, is charming enough. It also highlights the current struggles of the British high street as there was a too common sight of the ‘to let’ sign in shop windows. The Abbey hotel looks to offer so much potential, but it stands unloved and abandoned.

As time on my car parking space was running out, I made my way back and this time noticed some slabs with writing engraved on them as I passed by. One such engraving caught my eye in particular, and I shall leave you with it. It is taken from the end of William Butler Yeats poem ‘He wishes for the cloths of heaven’ –

‘…..But I, being poor, have only my dreams:
I have spread my dreams under your feet:
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams’

Romsey, England, United Kingdom

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Charming Cotehele

A flying visit after work didn’t do this place the justice it no doubt deserves – as a result a return to this charming place is on the cards. On a cold autumnal day and pressed for time, Cotehele delivered a warm and surprising welcome. Once again travel for work and membership of the National Trust combine to provide an excellent opportunity to visit another remarkable place around this fascinating country; this was no exception to this general rule.

Cotehele is a medieval mansion on a 1300-acre estate deep in the Tamar valley. A drive to the main car park takes you past some of the other charms of Cotehele – a working mill, a quay with a historic boat and a tea room with river views. A return will surely have to take place to visit the Victorian ‘Shamrock’, the former Tamar sailing barge. The former owners for over 600 years of the estate go by the name of Edgcumbe. This is not a name that stands out in British history as far as my knowledge goes but one that screams in my recent memory. Back in the summer I had stumbled upon mount Edgcumbe country park on the Rame peninsula – part of the great estate that the Edgcumbe once owned across Cornwall.

The medieval mansion is a beaut (better looking than the one that is located on the Rame peninsula). It sits on top of a hill providing views down to the river Tamar and the village of Calstock (a village of little importance but dominated by a towering viaduct). The house looks and feels medieval. My whistle stop tour at this time of the year allowed a visit to a small part of the house – the rest is shut down for the winter as it doesn’t possess any electricity. How fascinating to think of a home without electricity when houses these days can’t survive without it. The last Earl of Edgcumbe and owner of Cotehele lost his son in the First World War. He handed it over to the National Trust as a memorial to his son. I’m assuming that as there was no longer an heir to the estate provisions were made for it to pass to the National Trust. Apparently the National Trust has maintained the property in a time warp, and I look forward to seeing and exploring this on my next visit.

Cotehele’s other charm was its commemoration of World War One. The sheer effort in creating such a thing is to be admired and should not be ignored. I was grateful that it had remained up past the anniversary of that great event. A combination of the artist and volunteers helped to cut out 20,000 flowers/leaves to create this and they are entwined with memories from the war. It seems the 100th anniversary of World War One seems to have brought out an artistic effort right across the country and beyond the like of which that I can’t remember seeing before, not just here. I remember seeing all those ceramic poppies at the tower of London to commemorate the start of the war and this seems to have inspired a lot more places to have something done to remember the end of it. Every village, town and city around here appears to have delivered something unique and ambitious.

A rapid look at the upper and lower gardens (these possibly have other names but such was the brevity of the visit that I didn’t get them) gave me enough enjoyment to entice me to come back and see it in its summer glory. Today it looked almost unloved as the autumn had truly taken effect and weaved its web and deprived the flowers and trees of their photogenic beauty. The pond in the upper garden looks like providing a lovely opportunity for reflections of trees and the house.

It was with haste that I left to try and enjoy the last of the autumn sunshine. Cotehele you have certainly made an impression; I shall return as you have charmed me.

Cotehele House and Mill, St Ann's Chapel, South West England, United Kingdom

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Boring Buckfast

The second abbey visit from my wanderings to Dartmoor. This is a complete and utter contrast to my meanderings around Buckland Abbey (you can read about that here). As I arrive can’t work out whether it sits in its own village or is part of the town of Buckfastleigh. The view as I drive in is dominated by the tower of the abbey from which, I imagine, the whole of Buckfastleigh may be seen.

As most abbeys lost their wealth and land because they were dissolved during the Reformation, it was surprising to learn that this was still an active and clearly wealthy monastery. Whereas Buckland Abbey had been sold to someone who converted it to their home, Buckfast was an active place of living and worship.

It has a long history dating back to 1018AD when there was a Benedictine abbey here. By 1150 it had become a Cistercian monastery. It remained so until the dissolution of monasteries during Henry VIII’s reign in 1539. After centuries of decay and rotting the Abbey was to be built again as some monks from France found their way to the site in 1882. The present church was consecrated in 1932 which is evident in that the church looks relatively new. Silly me, I thought I was on my way to see an 11th century building. The whole complex (living quarters for monks as well) is now part of an international organisation.

Upon inspection, the organised layout gave an aura of corporate and commercial management but that is not to say that a fee was demanded for entrance. I was immediately directed into a new looking information centre. Clearly there was some money being made somewhere and somehow. Has this got anything to do with the tonic wine that is produced here? Although I didn’t understand the need for this centre, much of the information gleaned there is quoted above. It also gave me a view of the monks who were, ostensibly, there to assist the tourist. Perhaps it is not the way I think of monasteries, but it was interesting to see two monks debating and trying to work out how to use a single mobile phone!! They were hardly millennials but were trying to embrace the technology.

Upon leaving the exhibition and getting the customary outside photos, I immediately headed into the abbey. Unlike some of the recent cathedrals and churches I have visited it had a rather dull and spartan looking interior. This is in no way meant to be offensive – it was just that it wasn’t that impressive. The only nice part of the ceiling was roped off and inaccessible. So, took a couple of shots and left without spending more than 10 minutes inside. Perhaps I discovered that not all abbeys are blessed with amazing architecture and craftsmanship as seen in many other buildings up and down the country.

So I left the abbey neither impressed nor inspired. The visit took place in October and this may explain why it has taken me so long to write this blog. It’s amazing to think how a little bit of commercialisation, professionalism and advertising can entice people to a place. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I wouldn’t begrudge anyone making the effort to visit this place, but I believe on doing so you will be disappointed.

Buckfast, England, United Kingdom