Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Holy Island, Lindisfarne #1

This morning, after a slow grind through Edinburgh's perpetual traffic jam in a taxi down to the station, we bid farewell to Scotland, and after 45 minutes we were standing in the sunshine at a bus stop, having a really good conversation with a couple of Canadian chaps, an academic on sabbatical, and a children's author looking for some inspiration. Funny how in random encounters there are people you really would like to know better. But, we all liked onto  the bus, us with our luggage and now a large bike box, they got off with day packs to explore, and we didn't see them again.

A beautiful day today, and the island was teeming with day trippers, all the car parks full and tour buses lined up side by side. But, the nice thing about being on an island separated by a causeway covered by the tide is that the elemental force of nature calls the shots. The tide table says that the causeway is not safe to cross after 5 today, so the place empties, and now there are just the 180 permanent residents and a few hundred tourists, and we are all here until next low tide whether we like it or not. It gives the place a peaceful air, knowing we are cut off from the rest of the world.

Our hotel is right next to the ruins of the Lindisfarne Priory, and our room has fantastic views of the Priory on one side and out across stone fenced meadows over the boat harbour and off to the castle.


It still feels like a simpler way of life here - the pub where we had dinner was a bit rough round the edges, but friendly and with good basic food. The village consists mostly of lovely small stone cottages, many covered with climbing roses.


We wanted somewhere quiet to have a rest before the next stage of the trip, and sitting on a seat by the Ouse looking out at the little island and listening to the waves on the beach, I think we might have found what we were looking for. It is a magical, beautiful place once the crowds recede.

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Edinburgh #3

This morning Anne wanted to check out some shops at the St James Centre and to go to an exhibition at the College of Surgeons, neither exactly my cup of tea, so I walked with her over that way, then headed off up Carlton Hill, then over through Holyrood Park, past the ruins of the Abbey - the spot where James 1 of Scotland while out hunting encountered a stag with a cross in its antlers and decided that this was the spot to found an Abbey - as you would. All I saw was a squirrel, which didn't really warrant founding anything.

 It was a very pretty spot though. After  a admiring the ruins of the Abbey I set off up the side of the Salisbury Crags.

 The path I chose didn't take me up to the top, which was disappointing. I went most of the way up, then most of the way back down. Getting to the top required going all the way back up again. I decided that I had the general idea, and headed back into town, which proved to be remarkably close - amazing to have such a rugged wild place so close to the city centre.

I went back to the museum and spent a few happy hours there. Scottish history is such a ripping good yarn, and seeing some of the objects makes it come to life. There is the very stool which Jenny Geddes threw at the pulpit in St Giles, in outrage at Charles 1's attempt to impose the book of Common Prayer. Her stool throwing sparked a riot and the beginning of the resistance and of the Covenanter's movement. There is the blizzard mask which was worn as a disguise by Alexander Peden, to hide his true identity while preaching during the "Killing Times".

And heaps besides of course. But you do get museumed out after a while, so I wandered home for a cuppa and a bit of down time, meeting Anne on the way.

I discovered while browsing on the net that there was a bike shop on the other side of town which sold Brompton folding bikes. They are way way cheaper here than in Australia, so I thought I would check them out to see if they had the model i wanted. After getting thoroughly lost and walking about double the distance, I found the store. They had a demonstration model for sale at a good price, and I had a good feeling about the place, so I am now the possessor of a Brompton M6R, an older model, but one which has not seen a lot of use. The shop really carefully boxed it up and let the tires down ready for the plane flight as well as doing all the paperwork for the VAT refund. All I have to do is schlep a rather awkward box round for the next few weeks.
Caught the bus back which was marginally quicker than walking - Edinburgh traffic seems to consist mostly of double decker buses, log jammed in stationary standoffs.

We went for dinner to a great little restaurant near here, with creative fresh cooking, nice service and a good vibe. Wildman near Potter Row gets our cheapest and nicest award.
After dinner we went for a stroll through the University of Edinburgh, down to The Meadow, a large open space with people running, cycling, playing tennis or just wandering about in the mild Twilight.

Tomorrow we leave Edinburgh, and Scotland. A complicated diverse and beautiful place, whose history is still very much in play. We would love to come back again.

Monday, May 29, 2017

Edinburgh #2

First thing after breakfast we schleped our washing back down to the laundromat. What do laundromats say about a culture? Both the Scottish ones we have visited have been run by kindly but super efficient, smart women, who keep those all those socks and undies moving smoothly through the process.

With the comforting knowledge of packs filled with warm clean clothes, we set out to explore Edinburgh a bit more. We wandered through the Old Town and up to the entrance to the castle, but whether it was a bank holiday or just that's how it is these days downtown, the streets were packed with people and just navigating a way through was hard work. And it started to rain, so we made our way over to the National Museum of Scotland, where we spent most of the rest of the day, wandering mostly through the history of Scotland and the early people's sections. It is a fantastic collection.

On the way to the cafe there are a couple of massive whale jaws, which a precursor of the museum requested. The jaws have some fine scrimshaw engravings, one completed by a Wm. Hardie. Probably​ no relation.

There is so much amazing stuff in there, extraordinary Pictish carvings (looking suspiciously like Leunig figures), 

ten of the Lewis chessmen, the Covenanter's Covenant, the wonderful brass eagle lectern stolen by the English during the sack of Holyrood Abbey in 1544. So many stories, so much to marvel at. And a splendid view of the city from the terrace.  We will probably have to go back again tomorrow.



Sunday, May 28, 2017

Edinburgh #1

We had a charming breakfast in our hotel. Guests from the wedding that was held there last night wandered in, looking a little the worse for wear but still in high good spirits. The young lad, who was straight out of a Dickens novel, was serving. Anne asked for Earl Grey Tea. He looked panic striken for a moment then vanished, to return triumphantly bearing a pot of green tea. But we were well fed and ready for the day.

We discovered as we were leaving that our train tickets were at the right time, to the right station, but for the wrong day. Dunkeld is not a staffed station, so we tried calling the number listed if you wanted to alter a booking, to be told that we needed to go to a station. Anne pointed out that we were at a station but there was noone there. Go to another station was the helpful response.

We decided to get on the train and buy another ticket if we had to. When the train appeared, I carried over some heavy wooden steps so Anne could climb up the three foot gap to the first Step of the train. It proved to be a popular piece of temporary infrastructure - most of the people waiting on the platform rushed over to use it.

The train conductor was a nice gentleman who didn't charge us, "a mistake, ye didna mean to do, did ye, and ye will nae do it again", and the trip was pleasant except for the two girls talking animated nonsense in the seat behind us. But you can't have everything.

We have been in small idyllic places for the last week, so the gritty surrounds of Edinburgh train station were a bit of a shock. And the slog up the stairs to the plateau on which much of the city is built didn't help. I got a tad geographically challenged, but a kindly if rather rough looking older chap gave us clear directions, apologized for the steepness of the stairs, and sent me on my way up the disturbingly named Fleshmarket   Close with an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

We decided today was the day to catch up on our washing, I identified a laundromat in the vicinity, and we bundled up the laundry and headed down there, only to find that laundromats here close at 4 on Sundays and we would not have time to complete wash and dry cycles. Given that exactly the same thing happened to us a week ago in Glasgow, you might think we would learn.

We found a great Italian restaurant, complete with the most over the top Italianate murals. Italian food is closest to what we mostly eat at home, and seems to agree with us, and Caio Roma is cheerful, unpretentious, and very good.

Restored by some good food, we went for a stroll through the remarkable city of Edinburgh. The abundance of amazing buildings and vistas around every corner is head spinning. And the levels are disconcerting - you are walking along a street and suddenly there is a street at right angles but 100 feet below. Rather like being in an Escher painting. And there are lots of interesting monuments and carvings. I liked the rampant stags on the Walter Scott monument outside St Giles.

We are glad to be staying in one place for a while, and it looks like there is plenty to explore here.

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Dunkeld

Whatever the shortcomings of our hotel in Inverness, we slept pretty well, and it was only a few minutes walk to the station. And the train was great, the Aircon worked, the views of the mountains in the Cairngorm national park were sensational. The only down side was the three foot drop from the train to Dunkeld Birnam station - Anne hurt her knee getting out.
Our hotel for tonight turned out to be a bit more of a walk than we thought. When Anne first checked it we think she might have had the car option rather than the walking option selected. But it is a beautiful walk.

The hotel has a genuinely old world feel, magnificent staircase, sitting rooms, even a wide eyed young lad, who must be all of thirteen, earnestly serving at dinner.

It is, as Queen Victoria observed, "and pretty, pretty place" set in a lush valley on the River Tay. We walked over to see the old cathedral, once host to sthe remains of St Columba, and badly damaged during the disestablishment of churches in Henry VIII's time. It was subsequently at the centre of the Battle of Dunkeld in 1689. A very atmospheric place.

After, we walked along beside the Tay, admiring the wild flowers and the profusion of self sown Russel lupin's along the bank. We walked down to admire the Birnam Oak, said to be over 900 years old, and the last survivor of Birnam Wood. Next to it is a 300 year old sycamore tree, of about the same dimensions.

We stopped for a drink in a bar overlooking the river, admired the aerobatics of the birds that look like a cross between a seagull and a tern, but with a brown head. Also the impressive Scottish dancing of the little girl about four years old whose parents were sitting a few tables away.

Nice dinner in the pub, during which the skies opened and there was a huge straight down deluge of rain causing much excitement.
We have really enjoyed Dunkeld.

Friday, May 26, 2017

Portree to Inverness

Last night the Scottish Fiddle and Accordion had their annual how down booze up in the hotel where we were staying. Must have a good night, everyone seemed pretty quiet this morning. The sky gets light round 4.30, and the brightness woke me up so I creaked around the squeekey floor as quietly as I could, made a cup of tea, and sat at the window watching the fishing boats coming and going and the sun light up the cliffs across the Sound.

A beautiful morning in Scotland. We caught the bus back down to Portland, then across the bridge to Kyle of Lochalsh. It was nice to see that end of Skye in bright sunshine - when we came in it was largely obscured by mist and drizzle.

The train was sort of what we've come to expect from Scotrail - the Aircon in the carriage where our reserved seats were located was on the blink and the carriage was like an oven. The train made a show of starting precisely on time, but came to a halt a few hundred metres down the track, where it sat in the sun for an unexplained period of time, before finally trundling off.
The  scenery was spectacular though. Rugged mountain ranges looming over clear sparkly lochs, with little islands and rustic stone lodges that seemed to be only accessible by water. A variety of different landscapes but again, a really great train journey.

We were a little hot and frazzled by the time we got to Inverness. Anne left her dark glasses on the table in the train, but a kindly Scottish lady tracked us down on the platform and returned them to her.

After checking into our hotel, which is a bit more utilitarian than the last few nights, and which has a great view of the back off a few souless slabs of concrete, we set out for a walk down along the banks of the River Ness, to rehydrate and unwind from the trip. We found a nice hotel with tables in a leafy garden, plenty of shade, and a view of the river rippling by and of the passing promenade of slightly sunburned Scottish people all giving their summer outfits a first workout for the season. We met an English couple we had bumped into on the ferry to Skye a few days ago.  We sared a few reviving ales and had a good old natter anout a wide range of topics,brexit, steam trains, children, books, film's,  the meaning of life ... That was after the third drink.

After they left we stayed on for dinner (very nice, the Waterfront gets a good recommendation) then wandered back along the river bank, last groups of young people having a nice time hanging out in the grass on the river bank.

We are feeling a bit tired today so our exploration of Inverness has been pretty cursory I am afraid. Certainly a pretty place along the river.

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Around Skye

After breakfast I headed to a car hire place on the outskirts of Portree, to collect our hire car for the day, picked up Anne, then we set off northwards, past the Old Man of Stor, wreathed mostly in cloud as we drove past. At each of the sights and sites along the coast there was a large tangle of parked cars, motor homes and tour buses, plus crowds of people.

The cloud burned off and the day got warmer, getting up to round 25, which is a veritable heatwave for Skye. A vast improvement on last night where I had 5 layers, a buff and a beanie on, and was still a bit chilly.

On our way we visited the Museum of the Highlands which made an honest attempt at communicating something of the culture and history of the place. Some of the exhibits were a little hokey though. We thought if we stayed here too long we'd wind up looking something like this.

We worked our way up and across to Uig, where we had nice lunch in the Uig hotel (recommend the chowder)with marvellous views across the Sound.

For our last stop we headed over to Point Neist, the most westerly point of the island. To get there required quite a distance along "single track". This is essentially one narrow lane with passing points at irregular intervals, sometimes a couple of hundred metres, sometimes considerably more. It is a system which probably works with little traffic and mostly small vehicles, driven by people with reasonable driving skills and good manners. This afternoon there were way too many cars, motorhomes, vans, and the drive became like a game of chicken.

But the light house and landscape at Point Neist were worth it. 

We drove home again by single track across a wild deserted mountain range, before dropping the car off and heading out for a fantastic dinner of freshly caught scallops, in a restaurant with a wonderful view across the harbour.

Today we drove 114 miles. We feel like we've got a bit of an idea of the island - it certainly is a beautiful diverse place, a geologist's delight. I hope Skye can manage it's increasing popularity, and that some of the money being generated through the booming tourist trade gets put back into improved services and into the community that lives here. We tourists must be a real pain for the locals.

Tomorrow, we are off to Inverness, where the temperature is forecast to reach high twenties.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Isle of Skye, Portree.

This morning we didn't have to catch the train till after midday, and we had a late check-out, so we slept in a bit and took it easy. Which was just as well as neither of us slept well. After a nice breakfast and packing, we were farewelled by the hotel's boarder collie, who was doing a great job keeping an eye on the hotel foyer.

The train ride from Fort William to Mallaig is famous, partly for the Glenfinnan viaduct which appears in the Harry Potter movies apparently, but most of the trip is stunning. Today was grey and misty, and the rugged mountain tops were wreathed on cloud, with beautiful lochs and waterfalls.
The train was late, and we had to hurry down onto the ferry, so we saw almost nothing of Mallaig. What little we did see was through thick fog.

A number of the foot passengers on the ferry seemed to be discovering for the first time the unique nature of Skye's transport system. Buses are infrequent, and timetables well hidden. We had arranged for a taxi to pick us up, but unbeknown to us, the original driver had been called back for a family emergency, and we stood waiting in the drizzle for an uncertain ten minutes or so, till a lovely lady in a blue Van appeared and drove us to Portree.

We had early dinner in the pub, and went for a shuffle and reconnaissance mission scouting out possible dinner options for tomorrow night. Portree is a pretty town, and it has a nice vibe. It is busy with tourists and every second building seems to be working the tourist trade in one way or another. But it is still a friendly place.

On the walk, one of the sisters from our train trip yesterday came running out of a restaurant where she was having dinner to invite us to meet for a drink. Not tonight for us unfortunately - we are recovering from dinner last night and need an early, quiet night.

Our room has a fantastic view over the harbour, and a nice spot to sit and plan the next few days. We are hiring a car for the day tomorrow, which will certainly be different.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Fort William

This morning we were in a taxi by 7.30, for a drive through almost deserted streets to Glasgow's Queen St Station. The drive took us all of 15 minutes. The station was bristling with police officers, possibly to deter would be terrorists or to reassure people in the aftermath of the appalling Manchester bombing. Everyone we spoke to today talked about it - it really confonts everyone's basic sense of human decency, to deliberately target young people like that.

The train is slow and a bit chaotic, but a lot of fun. The scenery is picture postcard beautiful for mile after mile. We got talking to two Glaswegian sisters heading off to Skye for a family reunion and a bit of a holiday. They​ were very entertaining company and the trip to Fort William passed very pleasantly.

The hotel is at the opposite end of town to the train station, so a bit of a schlep with the bags, but worth it - a fantastic view and the nicest space so far on the trip.

While Anne had a rest, I walked along the Great Glen path to the ruined 13th century Castle of Inverlochy site of the first Battle of Inverlochy, and several hundred years later, the second Battle of Inverlochy. Holders of the Castle lost both times. It is a ruin but still substantial to this day.

  It rained most of the time, but there were some magnificent views of Been Nevis, and across the loch, but I am afraid the lambs in the paddock through which the Great Glen pathway passes were the cutest.

We had dinner in the hotel, which was twice as expensive as last night's, but about half as nice. There must be a moral in there somewhere.

A bit of a later start tomorrow which will be good as I think we are a bit tired.

Monday, May 22, 2017

Glasgow #2

This morning after breakfast we did our washing at the nearby laundromat, ably managed by a kindly lady who seemed to be doing about 10 jobs at once, including keeping an eye on stray tourists who might absentmindedly leave things in the washing machine.

Feeling much restored with a bag full of clean clothes, we strolled through the gardens to the Kelvingrove Museum.  It was a mixed bag of an experience. It is always a challenge for Museums to determine which audience to pitch for. This one seemed to go for the 10-12 year olds, and the captions on all the exhibits were well meaning but rather fatuous attempts to engage that age group. From what I could see, they were more interested in chasing each other or playing with the hand driers in the loo.

There was plenty of interesting stuff in there though. We we're interested to get a feel for Scottish art, and there were rooms devoted to The Glasgow Boys and the Colourists. But fairly hard to get a coherent narrative from what was on show. One thing we particularly liked was the Lafaruk Madonna, a tryptich painted by an Italian who was held as a prisoner of war during World War 2 in what is now Somalia. The painting  was done on flour sacks, and adorned the walls of a mud brick chapel. It was striking - Fra Angelico like angels and Madonna and child, but with the stark landscape of the camp as the background.

After lunch we caught the metro into down town Glasgow to have a look around, and for Anne to get some runners to supplement the ones which have become seriously waterlogged.  The Glasgow metro runs in a loop. The trains going one way run on the inside or "inner" track, trains going the other way on the "outer" loop. Which is perfectly logical and straight forward if you know that. But I didn't know that, which led to an exchange something like Me:"what platform does the train for Buchanan Street leave from?" Attendant behind plate glass "Outer" Me: "?Pardon?" Attendant:"OUTER" Me:"Sorry?"Attendant:"OUTER!" etc.

We shuffled up and down what seems to be the main shopping mall of Glasgow for a while. I particularly liked the clothes shop that had as it's window decoration hundreds and hundreds of old singer treadle sowing machines - I guess paying tribute to Glasgow's past as a textile and garment production powerhouse.

We caught the metro back to Kelvin Bridge, and walked past the eponymous bridge, with it's intricate wrought iron work,  itself a great example of Glasgow's past as a manufacturing hub.

For dinner we'd booked into a nearby Scottish Tapas restaurant that the taxi driver who drove us here had recommended. I was a bit dubious, to be honest, but it was fantastic, each tapas unique, Scottish, and delicious. And relatively cheap too. Best meal of the trip so far award to the Ox and Finch.

Tomorrow we are off early in the morning to catch the train to Fort William, which should be a change of pace. We have enjoyed Glasgow though. On the Kelvin bridge there is a rather strange coat of arms, with the motto "Let Glasgow Flourish". Amen to that.


Sunday, May 21, 2017

Glasgow #1

We bid a fond​ farewell to Durham this morning. The train was packed with people heading to Newcastle, including a few squatters in our reserved seats. They tried to ignore us, but Anne evicted them, and we settled in to enjoy the beautiful scenery as the train winds it's way up the coast towards Edinburgh.
After Newcastle the voice over the past changed to almost impenetrable Scottish.

We determined that the train was going as far as Motherwell. We asked the impressive looking chap who came to check our tickets what we should do. He assured us that we should stay on to Motherwell, and there would be a bus waiting to take us to Glasgow. Motherwell had a nice comforting ring to it, so we sat tight.  When we arrived at a rather Dungey concrete station in the middle of nowhere, a similarly impressive looking chap advised us to follow the crowd up the stairs to the bus. A flurry of cursing passengers dragging huge cases bounced their way up the stairs.  When we arrived, two other chaps in fluoro vests told the by now cranky crowd to get lost, no buses for the likes of you here, none of our business.  The passengers seemed to have a higher than average percentage of people with personality disorders. General chaos. Welcome to Scotland. We were sent to another platform, and eventually another train appeared, and despite a persistent clunking noise, it carried us all slowly and safely to Glasgow station. Feeling a bit frazzled by this point we sprung for a taxi, and the driver was friendly and helpful, a good antidote to the earlier experience. The girl who checked us in was lovely. And the young waitress who sprinted about 500 metres after us to reunite me with my phone which I had left behind, well she sealed the deal - Glasgow people are really nice.

I went for a walk around Kelvingrove Gardens while Anne had a rest, then we had dinner at what claims, probably with some justice, to be Glasgow's best Indian restaurant. We sat next to a group of young women all of Indian descent, all clad in beautiful bright saris, who chattered away in Hindi, but would occasionally switch to English, which they spoke with broad Scottish accents.

After dinner we went for another walk through the gardens and past the rows of fine sandstone terraces that face the gardens. There must have been some serious money in Glasgow in the 19th Century. This side of the city has some impressive architecture, but the Stewart fountain, which commemorates the men who brought clean water to Glasgow, is perhaps best described as quaint. 

We have noticed that the twilight's seem to be more peaceful and magic the further north we go - just beautiful out there tonight.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Durham

A beautiful morning in York, and we retraced our steps over the river back to the train station in glorious sunshine. The train to Durham belts along at 120 mph, and the 98 k to Durham with one stop along the way, only takes an hour. Though we left in Bright sunshine the was  dark band of cloud on the horizon in the direction we were heading, and it was raining when we got off at Durham. We found our way to the hotel, and had lunch. By the time we were finished the weather had cleared.

We walked down the hill over the foot bridge through the old Town, then schlepped up the hill again to the magnificent Durham Cathedral. It was impressive, right from the Sanctuary Knocker on the door. 

The church houses the Shrine of St Cuthbert, Abbot of Lindisfarne where we will be going in a few months. After the Vikings raided Lindisfarne, the monks took St Cuthbert body from the island and toured with it for a number of years before, legend has it, the coffin - located at the site on which the cathedral stands today - became so heavy that the monks could lift it. They built a simple chapel over the coffin which subsequently grew to the mighty structure of today. The Durham Choral Society was singing Mozart's Requiem. The space, with it's massive patterned columns, vast stone vaulted ceilings, and austere lack of decoration, really is profoundly impressive. After sitting awestruck for a goodly while we paid our respects to St Cuthbert, then headed to the nearby cafe on Palace green.

In the the courtyard where we drank our tea there is a recent plaque commemorating Scottish prisoners of war from the Battle of Dunbar 1650, who died and we're buried on the spot. We we're having a nice cup of tea on the site of a mass grave of Scottish prisoners who had been kept in the Cathedral or the Castle, and who had died in their thousands from disease and starvation.

We wandered down to the river next, to get a different perspective on the city, hired a row boat for an hour. Good to get some upper body exercise. And nice to just drift along a bit watching the sights and the river's goings on - ducks and ducklings, gung ho rowing skiffs, ancient bridges,  a trio of lovely Muslim women meandering helplessly as they tried to work out how to row. We tried to give them a few pointers but their boat seemed to have a fatal attraction for the river bank. We left them to it, perhaps they are still there now.


We found our way home, had a rest, then a very nice dinner in the pub, then wandered out for a walk, stumbling upon a completely unexpected park land, the Vale of Flass which is both the site of a Bronze Age monument, Maiden Bower, and a significant site for the Battle of Neville's Cross. The place is so deeply overlayed with history, you sit down for a cuppa or go for a random walk, and something significant will be there. And/or it will be an area of outstanding natural beauty, so common they are signified by an acronym:AONB.

Tomorrow we leave England for a while and head across the border to Glasgow.

Friday, May 19, 2017

York #2

We had timed our visit to York, by pure chance, to coincide with the opening of a joint exhibition on the Vikings put on by York Museum and the British Museum. So we had a slow start, pottered the 400 metres or so through the gardens and the ruined Abbey, and we were there when the doors opened​.

York does tend to go in for the entertainment experience in it's historical displays - I guess it keeps all those people who like wearing period costumes employed - but the strength of this exhibition was the richness of the collection on display.
I really liked the hoards - literally buried treasure. They show just how far the Vikings engagement with the world stretched - Arabic as well as English as well as Viking coins, and demonstrate that they were ready to deal either by currency or by weight of silver.

Another cool part of the exhibition was the use of VR. There were a number of different helmets shaped like a viking amulet on display round the corner, each with a different scene. When you put the helmet on, and viewed the scene of the Vikings encampment, with the Vikings gathered round their fires, the helmet had a distinct wood smoke smell.

The museum itself is built over and includes sections of the Abbey ruins. It is very atmospheric - a sense of the layers of history, right down to the skeleton of a chap from roman times the builders discovered when they were digging the drain for the downstairs bathrooms.

The only downside was the soundtrack - the same few bars of the March of the Valkeries can do your head in after a while, and we had to flee to Betty's Tea Rooms, a substantial establishment about the same vintage as the Majestic in Lisbon. I feared it might be a bit twee, but the food was excellent and the service really nice. We have found the people here in the shops to be very friendly and a lot less stressed than London.

  Anne wanted to look in some shops so I headed over to the Castle Museum, which I mistakenly thought might have something to do with and include entrance to the adjacent Castle.  Unfortunately not, I discovered 10 pounds later.
We explored more of the tiny streets and lanes, then headed home for a rest. The York Museum ticket is good for the whole day so I headed back to check out the rooms pre Roman York and of Roman artifacts from their occupation.

Late in the afternoon we wandered down by the Ouze - a largely different collection of narrow boats down there tonight, and explored a different corner of the city before finding our way to the Chinese restaurant we'd picked for dinner.
We were forming some unrealistically Rosey views of York as some sort of modern Utopia, but the walk home brought us back to Earth - a succession of homeless people looking wretched on chilly rainy evening, a person slumped unresponsively in a doorway while a paramedic worked away and some deadbeat looking associates watched on, some really stoned or drunk people lurching across the road arguing vociferously. We were glad to get back through the park to commune with the squirrels and the pigeons, and to hunker down for the night back in our room.

Still, while clearly not without its share of social problems York is still a lovely place. I think if I lived in the UK, somewhere round would not be too bad.

Tomorrow we are up early and off to Durham, continuing our progress northwards.



Thursday, May 18, 2017

York #1

The sun rises early in London this time of year and for some reason I was wide awake about 5.30, even though we didn't need to set off till 10. At least I was well organized by then.

We had our first experience with British national rail, which was very fast efficient and perfectly on time. Only criticism would be that the overhead racks are not big enough to fit most bags so they all end up in a pile near the door. And some of the other passengers make a heck of a lot of noise.

Whatever, the train rolled into the splendid York railway station a bit after one. York station, when it opened in 1877, was the largest in the world and it is a beautiful structure still today.

Our hotel is an easy and pleasant 10 minutes walk from the station. We are right across the road from a fine.  medieval chuch, St Olaves, and a statue of the Nowegian saint gazes across at us through our window.

York is a huge and welcome change from London, there are lots of pedestrian only streets, the street scapes with mediaeval, Tudor, and architecturally sympathetic more recently buildings (William Morris would approve of them I think), are largely intact, and the pace of life is vastly more relaxed.

We went for an orientation exploration walk, through the garden past the ruins of St Mary's Abbey, said hello to the squirrels, declined the chance to view the interior of York Minster at 10 pounds a head, walked along a section of the old city walls, found our way through tiny winding streets filled with houses with crazy bowing beams and angles, then back home for a rest before dinner, and a stroll along the banks of the Ouze with it's long boats and their little chimneys smoking away in the dusk.
It seems to be a lovely city. We are looking forward to exploring further tomorrow.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Red House, Bexleyheath

A visit to the Post Office first off, to send back a book and warm weather clothes which we probably won't be needing as we head North. It was a very reassuring experience - this post office exuded an air of calm competence, a feeling of efficient utterly reliable systems that would carry our parcels unerringly to their destinations.

John picked us up at 10, and the traffic was good so we got to Bexleyheath and the Red House well before their opening time.
I think we managed to schmooze the lady at reception, telling her we'd come from Australia to see the house, as she sent the three of us off on the 11.00 tour, leaving a large group who had just appeared to. cool their heels till the next tour at 11.30.

The house itself, built for William Morris, textile designer, poet, novelist, translator and social designer, and founder of the Arts and Crafts Movement, was claimed by the National Trust to be"one of the most influential buildings in the history of domestic architecture and garden design." Not too sure about that, but it certainly is a distinctive creation.

The house was built in 1859, in a style drawing upon Morris's thinking about the use of natural materials and on his interest in medieval and gothic architecture.

The location at the time was beyond what Morris described as the "creeping sore" of London. The creeping sore has well and truly reached Bexleyheath, and the house is surrounded by suburbia. Morris become a prototype commuter, walking three miles each day to catch a train to Bloomsbury in London, making for a three to four hour a day commute. I can relate to how hard that must have been. After six years, a combination of financial pressures and the wear and tear of living in what was then a fairly remote location led to Morris and his family leaving the Red House.


A beautiful place and a lovely garden, with lots of beautiful decorative touches remaining despite bits being carted off to other museums and galleries,  but it has a sort of melancholy air - a wonderful ambitious shot at creating an ideal beautiful place that would become the heart of a new movement, but one that didn't quite come off. You certainly get a sense of the intense creative energy of the man.

After lunch in the cafe, which was the original kitchen, we drove to John's house which is a mini gallery in its own right, and spent a pleasant few hours, before he dropped us right outside a shop in Greenwich which Anne wanted to visit. It was great to have a local to give us something of a Londoner's perspective on things - it made our visit here much richer than it would otherwise have been.

So, now we are psyching ourselves up to leave tomorrow. We will be sorry to leave Greenwich.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Soane's House and the BM

Today we took it very slowly, as we will need to be up early and firing on all cylinders the next few days.

First stop was Sir John Soane's House. I found it unsettling/annoying for a number of reasons. The collection is not well organized or described, and despite forking out three pounds on the guide book, I was not much the wiser as to what most of the stuff was, where it came from, how it fitted with anything else. The house is fairly squeezy, crowded with people, and a fair chunk of the available space is taken up by an exhibition of contemporary sculptures, disturbingly anatomical life sized casts in the middle of most of the rooms. For my money I would go direct to the British Museum.

Which is exactly what we did next.

The British Museum was for us an antidote to the morning's experience. As librarians, we like stuff ordered, and the Enlightenment room, with it's splendid light filled spacious proportions and well ordered glass cabinets of well described objects, was our sort of place.



Anne had a specific shop she wanted to visit over near Hanover square, so we navigated our way there and while she shopped I visited Handel's local church, pretty much unchanged from when he worshipped there, and just down the road from the venue of the first performance of the Messiah.

The metro was hot and crowded, and we were relieved to get onto the light rail and be transported home. After resting up a bit, we collected our tickets for the train to York on Thursday, hit Sainsburys to stock up on supplies, had a chat to a chap with a Brompton folding bike, caught up on the washing, then wandered over the road to the Golden Chippy which apparently is Trip Advisor number 2 restaurant in London. Not quite sure how they manage to get so far up the ranking, but cheerful cheap and nice chips so we we're happy.

Tomorrow we are off to William Morris's Red House which should be a nice change of pace.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Avebury

This morning was cold and drizzly. John very kindly collected us and we made the long drive out of London and down the M4 to Avebury.  The outer circle is said to be the largest Neolithic stone circle in Europe. The amount of effort required to shift so many stones, some of them weighing more than 40 tons, and digging the earth works for the surrounding henge, is hard to imagine. The villagers in the 14th century started to push over the stones, probably for religious reasons, till one poor chap was flattened underneath a particularly large stone, which understandably discouraged his colleagues from further stone toppling. He was still there when archaeologists raised the stone in 1938.


The site is important for contemporary pagans, and there were a group there today communing with a fine group of four oak trees growing on the top of the henge wall.

For lunch we headed over to the Red Lion, a suitably quaint hotel in the village located within the perimeter of the outer circle and the hence. Nice to eat lunch looking out over the stones and the sheep grazing around them. After lunch we pottered around the picturesque village and visited the church of St James, where "All God's creatures are welcome .. dog treats in the purple Tupperware on the shelf." A bit funky but welcoming and with it's heart in the right place I think.

The area is rich with bronze age sites, and we passed another, even more impressive one on the way home. Silbury Hill is a huge man made mounf, which is said to have been the tallest man made structure (I guess a mound of gravel, chalk and Earth is a structure) in Europe till the middle ages. Once again, the scale of it and the effort required to build it are just stunning.


It was marvellous to see these sites and to think a bit about what it means to be human. We aren't so far away from the people who wrangled those huge stones, dug the massive henge,  and carried in the earth to build Silbury Hill.And it was lovely to get out and see some AONBs (that is, areas of outstanding natural beauty) and some of the lovely old towns on the old Bath Road, all with a genial and good humoured friend and guide. We feel very fortunate.


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Sunday, May 14, 2017

Tower and Prime Meridian

We got down to the entrance to the Tower of London about 20 minutes before the doors opened, and not a moment too late as the queue already stretched right up the hill.

But we got in and Anne made a beeline for the crown Jewels display. There are some extraordinary stories behind some of those stones sitting in their splendid settings - like the Black Prince's Ruby and the Koh-i-Noor. We went round and round on the moving walkway quite a few times admiring them. I did the climb up and down the White tower while Anne enjoyed some sunshine and a chance to read the book on the Crown Jewels she'd bought from the Tower shop, then after a bit more exploring ,we headed out and down to the river and caught a cruise boat back to Greenwich. The river is lined with countless thousands of apartments, each one of which would be worth more than 1.5 million pounds. Makes the head spin to think how much money has gone into that stretch of water.

We had a nice lunch in the sun in the walled garden at the back of the Naval College buildings, then trudged up the steep Hill to the Observatory, to admire Harrison's 4 fantastically intricate chromometers in action, and to pay our respects to the Prime Meridian. Lovely views from up there too, worth the walk.

Afterwards we wandered back through the park and via some very interesting back streets back to our hotel. On the way we passed an intriguing building, a 19th century school, with two doors, one enscribed "Girls and Infants" and the other, narrower door, "Boys". Why is the boy's door narrower? Why did they need separate doors? What were the infant's doing coming here anyway? All very mysterious and a bit grim looking.



 A good day, lovely weather, and though we are tired we managed not to do too much, keeping our effort expenditure to sustainable levels.

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Downtown London

After breakfast we headed out to give our Oyster cards a workout. We got from Greenwich to Leicester Square via Light Rail and two tube hops, and feel pretty smug about being able to get around now.

At Leicester Square we picked up our London Passes, which we bought in Australia using a credit we had with our local travel agent. Glad we didn't spend good money on it, as so far it has been a bit of a dud. One advertised benefit is free use of the hop on hop off buses, but the fine print tells you that you have to get a ticket for the bus from the booking office. Luckily we discovered this before we left the booking office, but we saw other not so lucky punters being turned away. The bus proved to be a draining experience. London traffic is just appallingly congested so the bus goes nowhere very slowly. The commentary is a cross between grade four and Benny Hill, and the group of German ladies behind us talked incessantly and loudly. We bailed out near the Victoria and Albert Museum, had some welcome lunch in their very nice cafe, then explored some of their dazzling collection.

After so many people, so many grand buildings and towering imposing monuments, it was strangely soothing to focus on the inticate delicacy of the collection of  minatures and gold snuff boxes.

Being a lazy peasant who had done no homework regarding the scope of the V&A, I had little idea of what was in the collection, so our visit was a series of pleasant surprise for me - around this corner a few William Blake paintings, over there some stunning Pre-Raphaelites, a wall of lovely Constable studies. Plus things I had no idea existed, like the life sized silver plated lions that are part of the Danish Royal regalia (ok these we copies, but still marvellous.)  So much to see, so little time to see it in, so few brain cells to absorb it.

We got another bus, but the traffic was unbearable after a while, so we got off and walked down to the River along the edge of St James park, which was a huge relief after the congestion and crowds.

We managed to get a little lost but found our selves at Embankment ferry terminal, so we used our Oyster cards again and got the Thames Clipper ferry back to Greenwich, much nicer and simpler than hopping from train to train, and a great view of the sights of the city.

After a beer in the sun at the Greenwich Brewery, and a Chinese meal so massive we couldn't eat half of it, and a long stump back up Greenwich high road, we made it home. Now to regenerate sufficiently so that we can get out there again tomorrow.

Friday, May 12, 2017

Greenwich

Today we had a relaxed start to the day, made all the better thanks to a call from home. Lovely to hear news and to talk with our wonderful offspring.

Once we got going, we walked down past the Cutty Sark and into the Old Royal Naval College, which is now the tourist information centre for Greenwich and which has some good displays of artifacts dug up on the site. A good place to get an idea of the layers of occupation of the site.

We tagged along on a free tour of the area, admired the breathtaking view of Chistopher Wren's neoclassical symmetry, gazed mournfully at the gate where Anne Bolyen departed on her last trip down the river to the tower, and paid our respects to the memorial to Admiral Thomas Masterman Hardy in the splendid Chapel of St Peter and St Paul. There is a family tradition, to which my dad subscribed, that our branch of the Hardy's is somehow connected to the Admiral's.  Hardy is a certainly a big name in Greenwich, as we passed Hardy's Sweet Shop, and the Admiral Hardy Hotel.

After lunch we headed over to the National Maritime Museum. Wonderful collection but somehow​ we struggled with it - the presentation seemed geared more for a younger school kid audience, lots of amazing facts and artifacts, but not strung in any coherent narrative that we could discern. But I am glad to have seen it, and the staff go out of their way to be helpful.

We then met up with a friend from the Camino. John and I walked across the Meseta together, and a more congenial companion for the challenges of that stretch would be hard to find. It was a treat to see him again, and, gentleman that he is, he has offered to drive us next week to a couple of destinations that are hard to get to by public transport.

We pottered home in the sunshine of a lovely afternoon, passing through Greenwich market and circumnavigating the church of St Alfege, "dedicated to Alege, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was martyred by Vikings on this site in 1012", according to my Greenwich Guide.

Tomorrow we collect our two day London passes, and Anne has been planning carefully so we can make the most of them.
We

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Goodbye Fado, futebol and Fatima, hullo London

Last night we went back to A Despensera where we had a great meal the night before. They were very pleased to see us back, and gave us free desserts, plus Anne got a hug and a kiss as we left from the beautiful young woman who seems to run the place. We strolled home feeling very fortunate to have come to such a wonderful warm place.

There was a mighty deluge in Porto over night, and our room sprung a leak, via the sprinkler fitting right above the bed, on Anne's side lucky for me. I managed to fitfully sleep through most of it, but Anne had to stack towels where the water was dripping. Not all that conducive to sound sleep. But we were up packed and at reception just as the taxi appeared, and we got out to the airport for the friendliest, nicest bag drop ever. The Porto easyJet staff were a continuation of the Porto hospitality.
We managed to buy Oyster cards and navigate the London public transport system, thanks to assistance from Google maps. 

London looked fairly grey and gritty, and we were wondering what we had done leaving lovely Portugal to come here, but I think we were a bit tired and hungry. After settling into our aparthotel - Anne wrangled us much nicer space than the little box we were given first - we had a meal in nearby Turkish restaurant, then a sleep. When we woke up, the sun was shining and Greenwich looked like a much nicer place. Still a bit grey and grotty though.

We found our way down to the supermarket, got some provisions, then back home for a quiet night planning the first installment of our raid on London.