Around Bristol with Friends

Friday night we said 'hello' to Marion and David who arrived on the train from London. It was a lovely balmy night and we sat outside eating pickles and cheese before showing them the sights of Bristol. It was the 'usual' tour we take our friends on (but more photos because its always a different season and time of day) - Clifton Downs looking over the Avon River, Clifton Suspension Bridge and a bit of history about Brunel, Ashton Court (not on our usual tour and not on this one either because as we entered the gates Marion saw a sign that said 'gates close at 9.15' and according to our watches it was 9.15), past the SS Great Britain, around the floating harbour, Mary Redcliffe Church (and the tram track stuck in the ground), Castle Green (with the derelict church left as a memorial to those lost in the war), past the allotments and back to our place for dessert and coffee.






Bath was our destination the next day and we wandered through the Gardens, past the Crescent and through the one Georgian town house open to the public before landing at the Jane Austen museum for sandwiches, scones and tea. We rather enjoyed putting our feet up with a cuppa while our friends did the museum - something we had done before. We then left Marion and David again at the Roman Bath House, while we went up the Abbey tower, intending to meet them later to do the inside of the Abbey - not so - Dominic was marrying Alice and visitors weren't allowed. The Abbey tower was begun in 1499 - apparently it is built on the rubble of an old Norman cathedral. We climbed the 212 steps to the top of the tower, enjoyed watching time turn slowly at the back of the clock (the only part of the abbey owned and maintained by the local Bath council), looked at the 10 bells which weren't working as the bell ringer was waiting for Alice the bride to walk down the aisle (as she passed under a hole in the roof he could see that the service was over and he would rush over to the other side to ring the bells - hopefully he wouldn't trip), and then up to the top where we could see tourists looking at the Roman Baths (couldn't spy Marion and David from that height) and others enjoying the roof top pool that we enjoyed last winter. Marion is a Henry VIII fan, and so after a picnic in the gardens and another quick cuppa in Bristol we headed off to the Little Thatch Hotel in Quedgeley for dinner - Henry and Anne once stayed there and presumably dined and drunk in the dining room aptly named 'Henry VIII Bar'. We sat down to a real pub meal of 'faggots' and 'pate' for entree and then something else with mash, peas and gravy and wondered what Henry and Anne would have eaten ... a young boy asked the same question on google and we were sort of right lots of courses, lots of meat, not a lot of vegetables or fruit. Here is the 16th century royal diet...(if you're a vegetarian or have a squeamish tum skip this bit)

• a Spit-Roasted - usually a pig or boar. Extremely wealthy people could afford fresh meat year-round (once the King had been to visit I suspect many an Englishmen were no longer wealthy). Only the very rich could afford to roast it as you needed much more fuel to cook it rather than boiling; and only the super wealthy could pay a "spit boy" to turn the spit all day (the Georgian house used small dogs instead which I guess was cheaper but cruel). In a typical year, the royal kitchen served more than 14,000 large animals - that's about 23 animals per person per year (that's a lot of meat).
• Grilled Beavers' Tails - although Christians couldn't eat meat on Fridays they could eat these because medieval people classified beavers as fish.
  
• Whale Meat - another dish for Fridays - it was common and cheap and either boiled or roasted.
• Whole Roasted Peacock -This delicacy was served dressed in its own feathers - replaced after cooking.
• Internal Organs - everything went into the tum.
• Black Pudding - again no description cos I know I wouldn't enjoy this meal.
• Boar's Head - it was instead of a floral display and served as a centerpiece at feasts like at Christmas.
  
• Roasted Swan - a real treat for special occasions as these birds were considered noble - even today the law states that the Crown owns all mute swans and may not be eaten without permission from the Queen.
• Vegetables - very few were eaten as they were classed as the food of the poor.
  
• Marzipan - really the same as what we have today - though not eaten much as they hadn't developed the sweet tooth yet.
  
• Spiced Fruitcake - only on Twelfth Night banquet on January 6. The cake had one dried pea or bean and who ever found it was treated as the king or queen of the pea or bean ie a guest of honor.
• Wine and Ale - no need to say more - except that around 75,000 gallons of wine (enough to fill 1,500 bathtubs) were drunk every year at Hampton Court Palace (which is where we go next weekend).

Sunday, we went to Wales, over the Severn Bridge to Tintern Abbey - its a lovely place and although we had been there before we enjoyed it, as it has a peaceful and almost magical feel about it. The history of the Abbey is in some other blog written some time ago, but this time we learnt that in 1798 William Wordsworth wrote

A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey, on Revisiting the Banks of the Wye

FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur. Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,

Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone...

And then on to Chepstow where we found the little town swarming with Morris and Belly Dancers. We ate a 'door stop' of a sandwich while watching a few of them dance and play. Many of them wore very colourful clothing (mainly from rags stitched to jackets and trousers), hats covered in anything from flowers to teddy bears and bells on their trousers to make the noise - oops sorry music. The history of the Morris Dancer is rather mysterious. Some think it began in the 15th century although earlier records mention dancing with swords. However, to put this noisy but interesting musical display into perspective some have called it the 'earliest known example of biological warfare'. Apparently, villagers who showed the 'early symptoms of bubonic plague were dressed in colourful outlandish costumes with bells tied to their legs and sent to neighbouring hamlets to perform their macabre ritual. It is quite remarkable to note that, although little or no knowledge of germs or viral infection was existent at the time, the fact that waving handkerchiefs full of plague infested mucus in the vicinity of one's enemies had a detrimental effect was commonly known, particularly in the south of England'.

"They did comme in garish clothe wythe bells about their legges and brandishinge shorte poles of wudde which they did hitte together in a devilishe danse, each holdinge a fylthie ragge soaked all in snotte. Soone after this the plague was upon us. They did also a-molly their cludges in the ftreete, gruntinge lyke pygges" .

It would also seem that this was used as a convenient way of getting rid of the community's worst musicians as their life expectancy was only a couple of weeks - which could explain the simplicity of the music and the performance (no one probably wanted to practice before hand in case it bought bad luck). However, on a Sunday in Chepstow there was some expertise that wold have taken more than 2 weeks to perfect.

"They did also bringe wythe them uglie daemons from the underworlde who did make a foule dinne upon pypes, fidils and nakers and did take muche ale. These wretched beaftes were not fytte to danse."

So, we said goodbye to Marion and David (would have loved them to stay longer) and sat and watched the men's Wimbledon final in daylight (rather than in the middle of the Southern Hemisphere night). By the end of the marathon game I kinda of wished that there were no losers - as they both had worked so hard for that big gold cup - as Michael always says 'second is the first loser' - so true when looking at Andy Roddicks brave face.

In the news this week...
... British Telecom offer staff a year long break from work for a 75% pay cut (not sure if after a year they go back to their 'normal' salary) and British Airways have asked staff 'to work for free during the summer or to go part time' (wonder if the top directors also have the same offer).

... but the one that has made me really angry - 4 primary schools in Bedfordshire 'banned parents from attending their children's sports day after organisers said it would make it impossible to protect pupils from abductors or paedophiles...If we let parents into the school they would have been free to roam the grounds. All unsupervised adults must be kept away from children.' I have a feeling that if I was one of those parents I'd be complaining about taking away rights of the parents.

... and did I mention a couple of weeks ago - they are banning sand pits from kindergartens as they can't guarantee them being hygienic.