Bradford on Avon

Today we drove across the fat bit of England to the other side. (It takes longer to drive to Canberra.) We arrived at South Wraxall to discover our cottage is an amazing 15th centurish building with all mod cons. Amazingly-storybook-pretty too, it is called Brook Cottage because, you guessed it, there is a brook.

Evening at Brook Cottage

We headed off to the local town, Bradford-on-Avon, which is also amazing. We stood on the bridge, wandered up the towpath, discovered the medieval tithe barn, sussed out the train station, had a cream tea and came home. 

  
We were walking along the river path and towpath and, as you do, said 'Hello' to people as they walked past in the opposite direction. Three couples in succession, all clearly unconnected with each other, replied cheerfully. All replied in Australia's unmistakable accent. Can't get away from 'us'.  

Lyn did interact with 3 genuine locals in the teashop. We have found ourselves in the midst of a new series of Downton Abbey here. A key character is dead - but we didn't know how. Lyn heard them discussing the series and so asked them. A long conversation ensued. I didn't escape because the young waitress came over and proceeded to chat to me about, you guessed it, Downton Abbey.

Tonight we went to The Longs Arms for dinner. Had a brilliant, but expensive, meal at the pub. It has 2 stars in something. The beer and food here is great so far.

Cambridge and St Ives

We went to the park and ride at St Ives - it sounds like a limerick or a riddle - but isn't. The bus used the local Cambridgeshire tram or trolley network. It can, and does, use the normal roads but much of the journey was along a concrete pathway thingy. From the top deck of the bus we realised that there are small lakes everywhere round here.

Through the front window of the bus/tram/trolley

In Cambridge we went on a 2 hour walking tour which took in many of the sights and included exploring Queens' and Kings colleges - and glimpses of many others.

 It was an interesting tour with enough gardens to keep Lyn happy.

We also saw the very cool handless clock. There is an obsession with time in Cambridge. Every college has a sundial it seems.

We found a spot to charge my camera battery, had another very late pub lunch and then split up. I explored a little more and Lyn shopped.

On the way home we stopped to explore St Ives. Idyllic place. The bridge is from about 1420. There were numerous swans and the odd duck.

Off to the local pub for dinner we think.

 

The Ship of the Fens

Today we got a minicab to Stansted Airport and hired our car. There were some glitches. The car is a Citroen. We couldn't find the door handle. We couldn't find reverse gear. Between us we have a zillion years of driving, but those damned French confounded us. We drove up into Cambridgeshire, to Fenstanton, where we are staying at the Blue Cow.

The Blue Cow

We then drove off into the fens in search of Ely cathedral. The car is a computer with wheels. Between it and the Satnav, it is a bit like a friendly Big Brother - it whistles and chirps and beeps happily - "Shut the boot", "you are in reverse", "this is a safety camera zone", "three seat-belts are undone" and "you are 1 metre above sea level". You find yourself saying, "What! What now for ______'s sake!"

 

Our nagging frog car

The fenland is flat. Every so often you realise that you are driving on a roadway raised above very low-lying fields. Then you cross a canal/sluice which is ABOVE the level of the fields. Intriguing.

Ely Cathedral, the improbably Gothic, "ship of the fens" is lovely.

Ely Cathedral

We had our first pub meal - roast beef and a "half" for me. Then we hovered outside while dignitaries walked in procession for the big annual service for justice.

It was the full deal - massed choirboys, silly hats, shiny black shoes with giant buckles, the organ with all the stops out, an address by that bloke who was a hostage in Lebanon for 8 years and stirring hymns and two verses of God Save the Queen. The public were not really welcome - there were 800 invited guests - but by looking suitably respectable and devout, and because we were dogged, we weasled our way in. Lyn was pleased that the Pope got a mention and we got both St Francis' and St Ignatius prayers sung at us. 

After all the tizziness of Roman interiors, I must say I find the relative austerity of English churches more to my tastes. So 'Huzzah!' for Oliver Cromwell and his lads.

We are back in Fenstanton and Lyn explored the village. She just returned all excited to tell me that they have allotments here.

Cambridge and St Ives tomorrow and another round with our nagging frog car. But first, there will be a full English breakfast.  

Portobello Rd, Lords and Movie Locations

This morning I finally got to use the Underground. While Lyn prepared for the day, I went by train to St Paul's churchyard and back because I'd remembered that I could pick up our National Trust pass there. Mission accomplished, I rendezvoused with Lyn at Goodge Street - a minor miracle of navigation and timing - and it was off to Portobello Road, Notting Hill. I got to stand out front of George Orwell's house.

We quickly decided the markets weren't for us, touristy markets are much the same everywhere, and so Lyn suggested we go to Lord's Cricket Ground. We had a pleasant couple of hours being led around. The group in tow were mostly Indians, with us as the only Australians. We endured the inevitable cheerful references to recent debacles. I'm sure none of you will be shocked by the news that Clarke and Watson sat on opposite sides of the dressing room...

Then we thought a walk along the south bank of the Thames was in order. First we had afternoon tea at Somerset House.

Then we crossed Waterloo Bridge and wandered along the riverside walk. We had a drink looking across the river at St Paul's. (My first English pint!)     

We passed the Golden Hind replica, the National Theatre, the Globe Theatre and Tate Modern. 

One more double-decker bus ride home and it was the end of an idyllic afternoon which consisted mostly, it seemed, of movie locations. So tomorrow morning we are waking up early enough to pack and head off towards Cambridge. I know 7 days seems a lot but, like Rome, we know we only touched the surface. It has been fascinating. I hope we come back one day.     

Hampton Court to Kew Gardens

I was determined to preserve whatever cartilage was left in my knee by limiting exertions today. After preparatory Voltarens we set out for our big excursion day. First came a bus to Waterloo station. (For those of you wondering why I never refer to the famous London Underground - it is because Lyn considers this famous network to be a nefarious plot to trap her in tiny spaces. This means we are good at buses.) Then we caught the suburban train to Hampton Court via ...!

Tom and Barbara Good were not in evidence but Lyn tried valiantly to see into Surbiton backyards anyway. She is not very competent with an iPad, so she only got front yards.

Hampton Court was the centre of a dispute between our two guidebooks. Lonely Planet wins - it was excellent. The palace was terrific, and if costumed historical characters wandering about sounds a bit naff - it all worked very well. The setting by the Thames amid stunning gardens didn't hurt either. Once in the gardens I took the easy option and was towed around by these two hairy fellas.

We had a great lunch and then it was off on another bus ride. We caught the buses to Kew Gardens (aka the Royal Botanic Gardens), a 50-minute trip.

This proved an even bigger highlight. It didn't hurt that the drizzle disappeared and we had a beautiful afternoon. The place is hundreds of hectares of eye-achingly beautiful woodland by the Thames studded with 18th century follies, 19th century architect-designed glasshouses that look like miniature Crystal Palaces, modern exhibits and various classy eateries.

I hope you like this next picture. Lyn's first attempt was at such a strange angle that we decided to have another go. In the process my iPad LEAPT from its case and flung itself on the ground, cracking the screen. How could this happen? It just did.

I would never have thought I'd find plants and gardens so interesting. We could have spent the whole day there easily. I saved the knee a bit by riding the little tour train around.  

It says something about both Hampton Court and Kew that we left knowing we hadn't come close to seeing everything interesting about them.

We caught the train home and Lyn endured the last underground part of the trip. Then it was the bus home. Great day, hurtling iPads notwithstanding, and only one full day left in London. What shall we do after such a serene day? Yep. Portobello Road beckons...

 

Lost in London

We are both sleeping later and later as our body clocks finally adjust, which means I wake at 6 and Lyn after 8. We meandered out the door intending to be in time to get a decent spot for the changing of the guard at the palace. But we left something behind and had to go back for it, and the buses were slow to come and moved very slowly through the morning traffic, and we went to Maccas for toilet and coffee, and anyhow, we didn't arrive early at all. However, we found ourselves a good spot to watch the comings and goings. The horse guards trotted by, and one group of guardsman marched past, and then the other lot, and then the horses came back. Small, but fiercely determined Japanese attempted to jostle me from my spot at the railings, while another attempted to photograph events by resting her iPad in Lyn's hair. I thought they had a reputation for courtesy, but perhaps it is a quality that doesn't travel. We headed off toward Hyde Park catching glimpses of the ceremonial shouting and stamping on the other side of the fence.

At Wellington's monument we both liked the sculpture of Peace and the Quadriga, and the Australian and NZ memorials were both affecting. From a distance the NZ monument looks like giant star posts hammered into the ground. Up close, looks even more like it.  

star post

 

NZ War Memorial

The Australian monument looks like a grey-green traffic barrier. 

Traffic barrier

Australian War Memorial

I still liked them very much. Then the excitement really began in Hyde Park. We saw squirrels.

And inevitably we also saw ...

By this time my trick knee was causing me considerable grief. We had lunch in the V&A but I scarcely saw much before I had to call it quits. Lyn plied me with Voltaren and by the time we got off the bus at Piccadilly Circus to pick up tickets for tonight, I was ready to face the world again. So we diverted to the National Gallery for a quick tour. Some great stuff in there of course but I was most fascinated by the wonderful portraits of smug 17th century Dutch merchants. One more bus and then a short walk home...

I like the "fourth plinth" project in Trafalgar Square. A modern artist gets to put something on the plinth which is otherwise unused. The current one is striking.

Me with giant blue cock

Three blocks from home I saw a book shop with a sale on. Lyn abandoned me there saying that she would go on ahead. The place was fascinating, but I left with only 4 books. I got home. No Lyn!

She eventually returned. Apparently she had got lost, not once, but twice, on the journey. To put this in perspective, when she left me we were 200 metres from home. She walked in a circle, asked directions, and walked in another circle. She achieved this feat while in the possession of two maps. She did, however, walk in the door with dinner and The Times. Her hero should be Sir Francis Drake, a man with a talent for circumnavigation and an unimpeachable surname.

Tonight we went to ‘The 39 Steps’ at the Criterion. Very funny and the theatre was the perfect setting. Very 1930s.

 

British Museum

Today I went to the British Museum. I saw a lot of stuff. I held a piece of the Mildenhall Treasure and a Bronze Age adze and a Roman glass bead. This is cool. This is also cool.

It is inside! So are half the world's treasures. There are also a lot of earnest young women drawing things. The only drawback was the usual threat of injury posed by roving packs of heedless Japanese. Perhaps in Japan people are so culturally attuned that they are able to move through crowds like schools of fish? However, in other countries ...  At the BM if you belong to any given culture you get to go to a gallery featuring your cultural heritage. The British will display it brilliantly and nobody will pollute it, steal it or blow it up in a fit of religious or political pique. This means the Greeks are unlikely to get the Parthenon Marbles back - which seems wrong.

There were a number of stern-looking Chinese discussing the displays in their gallery. Chinese always sound angry to me. I hope for the BM's sake they were just chatting about prices in the gift shop.

I bought one item in the gift shop. See if you can find it?

Very tired. Nighty night. 

St Paul's to Billy Elliot

Off we went with great confidence to Westminster Abbey. We did a complete lap dodging large groups of Japanese (all posing or walking backwards with cameras) before discovering that it doesn't open till 1.00 on Tuesdays. Dang!

So we caught the no.11 bus to St Paul's Cathedral. There were 20 minutes till the next verger led tour, so Lyn gave me permission to climb to the top. What a climb it is. The stairs get narrower and the roof gets lower. When I finally reached the viewing platform at the top the view was stupendous. I reached for my iPad to take a photo and ... realised Lyn had it. Google it.

I nicked this pic from the net. It shows the view down into St Paul's from the stairs going up to the top of the dome.

Then I hobbled back down the stairs past slowly expiring Large Americans and reached ground level to be in time for the verger’s tour. She was a retired school teacher who so had the hots for Sir Christopher Wren that you couldn't help but share her enthusiasm. We trampled over numerous dead people and were mightily impressed.

We then escaped to a great burger and a better pale ale and then back on the no.11 bus to Westminster Abbey where another verger took us around. This place was even more overwhelming. The stone tracery of the Ladies Chapel, St Edward's shrine, the RAF shrine, Poet's Corner and innumerable tombs and memorials ... It went on and on.

The tours are terrific. Who better to tell you about a place than somebody who loves it? I love the little details like the St Paul's Watch in the Blitz putting out the incendiaries that fell on the domes, and the shrines stripped of their decoration by souveniring pilgrims in the Middle Ages only as far as their hands could reach.

We took the bus home and Lyn had a 10 minute power nap then off to Billy Elliot in Victoria Square. We stumbled upon a really good Japanese noodle bar, and then, purely by accident, Westminster Cathedral (the RC one), which is sort of faux Byzantine and quite fascinating. We enjoyed a terrific show. The no 38 got us home and we are both exhausted. Lyn visited three churches today so she hit the candles pretty hard. If she has any influence whatsoever then you should be all pretty safe for the moment.