Knutsford and Surrounds

Jane and David came around for dinner (we did ourselves proud - Gefilte fish for entree, meatballs for main, and lamingtons for dessert - Jewish, Italian and Australian - for non-cooks be impressed!) - they also bought us our first house plant - so its in the lounge, enjoying the occasional sunshine and keeping Harry company while he watches tv - it brightens up what so many have called 'our student flat'.

It was a bit like a wander through a time travel machine this weekend. On Saturday, we got up early (earlier than planned as we had forgotten we'd set the alarm earlier than normal the day before) and so arrived at Hawkstone Park (north of Birmingham) just on opening time. The Park was built in the late 1700's by Sir Roland Hill and his son (sounds like a nice family, helped the poor with food and clothing and provided park like surroundings for the community to enjoy). The park has a history similar to the Gardens of Heligan but far less well known. Neglected for over 100 years it has been restored in the 1990's by the owners of the hotel and the golf course with the same name which we looked at from afar. The countryside is mainly red rock, along the top of a cliff, and quite soft as the many footprints trod before us were engraved in the steps, and we walked across areas which had more sand than many English beaches. The many visitors back in the 1700's would have seen a wonderful rhododendron garden (now huge spindly bushes and still would look lovely in the flowering season) and the follies used in the filming of one of the Narnia films. It took us three hours to wander around the paths of the 100 acre garden, wandering over bridges and along the rocky outcrops and exploring the caves. The park is now on the Grade-1 Historical list and we can see why. It is actually on our WOW list.

1. Mt Kau Kau, Wellington
2. Cathedral, Milan
3. Cemetery, Milan
4. Newgrange, Ireland
5. Quantock Head, England
6. Waffles, Brussels
7. Food, Poland
8. Tower, Glasgow
9. Cycling in the Snow, Amsterdam
10. Walking the Cliffs of Dover, England
11. The Pavilion in Brighton, England
12. Hawkstone Park, England

So, at this park we:

• Climbed the Monument (known as the Tower) standing over 100ft high (thats 150 steps) which commemorated Sir Roland becoming the first Protestant Mayor of London. From the top you can view 12 counties - or see what we saw, the mist rolling in covering the countryside and promising bleaker than hoped for conditions (thankfully it didn't last and after our 3 hour excursion we were treated to some lovely sunshine in which we ate our lunch and dozed for a while).
• The Swiss bridge that was one plank of wood wide which crossed over a very narrow gorge called the Cleft and originally only had one hand rail - two felt a lot safer.
• The Gingerbread Hall - where visitors centuries earlier collected their guides and wandered towards the Grotto - we got our guide book at the gate - which did help in finding our way around.
• The Arch at the top of Grotto Hill - built to be the 'midpoint' where we stopped to enjoy the scenery, recover from the climb, have a drink and snack and wonder why so many people enjoy getting dressed up on a Saturday afternoon in 1700 clothes.

But the fascinating part was where we trod - one moment we were jumping over mud, another walking across tree stumps grown and cut strategically to avoid more mud, climbing steps that were so well trod the footprints were engraved permanently in the rock, tredding gingerly on the Swiss Bridge, negotiating large tree roots (beware of tripping hazards said the notice), squeezing through rocks, slipping up stone slopes covered in water and moss, feeling our way through caves engraved many years ago by diligent stone masons, climbing stairs that were higher than our knees (yes Harry's too), and just occasionally when lucky walking a flat path . All great fun.

When we were looking at what to do last week on our trip up north I read all about Market Drayton - 'The Home of Gingerbread'. How could we resist taking a small diversion to visit this town when we read that the locals 'have baked this delight to a secret recipe' for the last couple of centuries (it probably includes rum, but just to make sure you could follow the locals example and dip it in port before you eat it). So armed with our thermos of hot water, our tea bags, and our mouths watering we left for Market Drayton. However, we found out that Saturday afternoon isn't the time to visit this town (really didn't seem to give the appearance of being around 200 years ago, it looked like so many other towns in England built in the 1960's with little character - sorry to the local Market Draytonites if we are doing their town an injustice). But we were disappointed!! We didn't find a gingerbread man with a 'Welcome to Market Drayton' standing in the bed of sunflowers and marigolds at the roundabout, and the closest thing we got to gingerbread all weekend was visiting 'Gingerbread Hall' at Hawkstone Park. But I did read more about Market Drayton - on Wednesday the town comes alive, as that's when Henry III declared it market day that's where we might find the gingerbread men sitting amongst the handbags, clothes, materials, fish, sausages, fruit and vegetables, jams, cheeses and pies. Clive of India came from here - his little pies won the Guinness Best Pub Food Award in one year or another - he sounds as though he was one of those lovable rogues (lovable cos he makes good pies) but he may have run a protection racket amongst the local shopkeepers (not a nice way to make money), climbed the church tower (adventurous), defeated the French (not on his own), and secured the spice routes for the British empire and bringing home ginger to the town (to make gingerbread. So, we drove on 'gingerbreadless' (get over it Denise) without trying this wonderful cake with 'curiously restorative powers'. Anyway, enough about what we didn't see (except we also didn't get to Rudyard Lake - known because that is where Rudyard Kipling's parents 'courted' presumably before he was born). We drove on to the Anderton Boat Lift (not onto really but to the car park). It takes boats 50 feet up in the air joining the Trent and Mersey Canal and the River Weaver and it is where these two water channels meet and is the home of the salt works. It was built in 1875 and used for over 100 years before it was closed for restoration and opened again about 8 years ago. The salt has been taken from the rock since Roman times. By the end of the 17th century a major salt mining industry had developed around the Cheshire "salt towns" and two waterways shipped the salt up and down the country (River Weaver and the Trent and Mersey Canal). The owners of the two waterways put there heads together and decided that they could make a tidy sum by by linking the two waterways (first they used cranes and then chutes to run the salt down) - before they decided on the Anderton Boat Lift.
That was enough for one day and we settled into a nice pub in Knutsford for a meal and a read of the newspaper before finding our hotel for the night.


After an 11 hour sleep (boy do these oldies get a bit tired) we arrived at Jodrell Bank Observatory and sat down to watch a 3D movie on a visit to Mars (we were in a spaceship the SS Enterprise and it was a real 'beam me up Scotty' film) before going outside to look more closely at the 50 year old Lovell Telescope (it reminded me of a meccano set and I wondered if Meccano had modelled their famous toy on the telescope or the other way round - so later I did a bit of quick research and found out that Meccano was invented in 1901 by Frank Hornby, an Englishman) . The observatory however was built the year I was born and since then has been ' probing the depths of space, a symbol of our wish to understand the universe in which we live. Even now, it remains one of the biggest and most powerful radio telescopes in the world, spending most of its time investigating cosmic phenomena which were undreamed of when it was conceived'. Actually, before I was born (and even before Harry was born) Bernard Lovell was already at work, looking at cosmic rays at a little place called Jodrell Bank. We had the fun of watching it turn on its axis to look at another bit of sky, before wandering off to our next stop.

And to finish off the trip up north we wandered around the Peak District for a couple of hours - climbing to Solomons temple which was built in 1896 on a site which is a neolithic burial mound. It's another folly by Solomon Mycock and was designed and built to give the unemployed in Buxton some work. It is 439 metres above sea level and with only a few steps to the top we could see some lovely views (probably 12 counties) and some cloud. Apparently, the hills was originally an old lime kiln but once the tower was built visitors would take the waters in the baths below and then walk the short distance up the hill to enjoy the fresh air and scenery (that was back in Queen Victoria's time).

And in the news this week...a new clothes shopped open up in Bristol - well it is a bigger version of a smaller one that recently closed - it is known for its cheap clothes (they have clothes factories in 3 countries and pay their workers 7pence an hour) and young people in England love it - you can change your wardrobe every week (eg 99 handbags can be bought instead of 1 from an Oxford Street shop in London). Anyway, they interviewed many of the young girls queuing for 2 hours before the shop opened and one said 'I've come all the way back from New Zealand for this - you just can't get fashionable clothes over there' - but she's going back so there must be something else attracting her in little old kiwiland. But this really got me wondering...at the end of the week I read about people queuing from 6.00 in the morning for an opening of a new supermarket (the chain is already in Bristol - so one could ask why?)

Barcelona

On Friday night we spent 7 hours going nowhere. We boarded the plane on time and learnt that the plane had hit a bird on its incoming flight. The wing was damaged enough to need repairing (I imagine the bird however got off second best) and so after an hour sitting on the plane we were taken back to the airport to wait another few hours before we were told to come back for a 10.30 flight the next morning. We did have a bed to go to, but others either camped out in the airport or took the offer of an Easyjet £70 subsidy on a hotel (it was the balloon festival on so not sure if it was easy to find accommodation at that time of night). So, our trip to Barcelona was somewhat shortened, but still we had a great time. After dropping our bags off at a somewhat posh hotel (for us) we caught the underground into the centre.

While on the underground it occurred to me that people are the same everywhere it doesn't matter that we might speak a different language or be a different colour we're all the same. There is the old man who tries to find a seat for his wife, although he looks as though he needs the seat more; there is the older teenager going on 20 plus that could be coming home from a late night or pulled out of bed early to go to some place they really don't want to go to; there's the slightly arrogant person who puts their feet on the seat, or sits with their bag on the next seat even though there are people standing; there's the young couple who have trouble keeping their hands and lips to themselves; there's those going to work that don't look particularly enthusiastic about anything; the shopper who is tired from all that retail therapy; the parent who talks and cuddles their little children or rocks them gently asleep and there's the talkers who chat throughout the journey to their friends sitting beside them or on the end of a cell phone. Barcelona was no different to London!! So, with that thought (and a Spanish book in our pocket) we caught the Hop On Hop Off bus for a quick tour of the city so we could work out what Barcelona was all about. The next day we went on a Fat Tire Bike ride and so here is what we saw on both these trips ( conclusion have to go back cos all we saw was the outside of things, rather than the inside). The architect Gaudi had a huge influence on the architecture in Barcelona and this style reminded me of Hundertwasser, the Austrian who also designed the famous loo in Kawakawa, Kiwi land (photo courtesy of the web cos we haven't seen it - but it is on our must do list when we return).

Oops sorry got distracted, back to Gaudi and Barcelona. Like Hundertwasser, Gaudi wasn't particularly keen on straight lines - and I agree where in nature do you find a straight line? Gaudi's influence is seen through out the city, as other architects (shame on me I can't remember their names) have copied his style (colourful, ornamental, curved, at times intricate and often quite droopy which leaves the impression of sadness), or introduced a new style of their own. Being quite keen on architecture I was fascinated and we have to return to go inside (we've decided we might try and avoid the queues by going in winter- being inside in winter is o.k.). Antoni Gaudi was born in 1852 to a poor family and qualified as an architect some 25 years later. The style has been described as a 'sensuous, curving, almost surreal design style' and I think the description is quite apt. On the bus or on the bikes we drove or rode past:

• Casa Calvet designed for a textile manufacturer with the bottom storeys used for business and top as the family home. It is quite conventional, compared to other of Gaudi's designs, by looks as it is between two older buildings - a bit like a terraced house in Bristol. But it does have character though a bit difficult to get on photo.

• Casa Batlló - restored by Gaudi in 1877 and remodelled in the early 1900's. A middle class family originally commissioned the design and it is right in the centre of Barcelona. I really really really want to go inside cos apparently it is spectacular. They say, the aim was to avoid straight lines completely and the outside is a mosaic of broken tiles, it has an arched roof and ...
  

• Casa Milà, was built around 1910 and was built for a wealthy widow (old money from America) and her second husband (who probably didn't have the money but enjoyed the flamboyant lifestyle of the rich). It's been restored now since it became a UNESCO World Heritage Site and really looks great (from the outside).
  

• The Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família (often simply called the Sagrada Família). It is huge that has been under construction in Barcelona since 1882 (started while Gaudi was alive but the plans have gone missing since his death) and is not expected to be complete until at least 2026 (or later if progress continues to be slow). Somehow, I think it is more of a tourist attraction unfinished...it looks sad, incomplete and too big (according to me)...

All this is mixed in with the narrow streets and older terraced buildings of the 'old Barcelona', the 'new' spacious Barcelona and modern buildings. So, quite an eclectic mix.

Besides buildings, we saw lots of other things like:

• The wonderful person-made beaches built specially for the 1992 Olympics where New Zealand one 1 gold, 4 silvers and 5 bronze medals - our third highest tally ever - perhaps they were inspired by the lovely golden beaches, warm waters and brand new hotel accommodation built for them. We sat in the sun and ate baguettes and fruit and then paddled in the lovely warm water (with lots of topless sun bathers), wishing we had time for a swim.
  
• Some great views from the Montjuic castle (we climbed to it using the underground, funicular railway, gondolas) and from other parts of the botanical gardens. The castle was built in 1640 and was later used as a place to house political prisoners over time. It had none of that atmosphere about it but I guess we were admiring the views from the top of the walls. It is the only place in Barcelona where a statue of Franco stands.
• The Barcelona Cathedral which had a really interesting garden where 13 white geese are meant to live because some special person was martyred when she was 13 some 600 years ago (I think I counted 7 geese - but I guess some could have flown somewhere else for lunch).
• Part of Olympic village where competitors stayed, the athletics stadium, the bit where the flame was lit and the telecommunications tower that looks like a big needle and thread.
  
• Poble Espanyol which I would be keen to go inside next time (built in 1929 for the Barcelona International Exhibition) it is a model village. Its got 117 buildings, streets and squares reproduced to, I think, life size scale.
• The port with lots of cranes, container ships and cruise liners.
• The Glories - Toree Abgar which we likened to the Gherkin in London. It is a skyscraper designed by the French architect Jean Nouvel and is lit up at night. According to Jean Nouvel, the shape of the Torre Agbar was inspired by Montserrat, a mountain near Barcelona, and by the shape of a geyser rising into the air (I'll leave the rest to your imagination). However it does have a few nicknames such as "el supositori" (the suppository), "l'obús" (the shell) as well as the gherkin and others which I won't repeat.
• the Hospital de la Santa Creu i Sant Pau - which was founded in 1401 but is still a hospital.
• the steps where Christopher Columbus climbed to visit King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella after he returned from his famous trip to the America's - I didn't know that Christopher was actually Italian.
• the Arc de Triumph in Citadel Park (which had a huge colony of Australian Green Lorikeets -we saw them in Hampstead Heath as well) - they made a terrific noise but mostly hid in the trees.
  
• bull fighting rings - yes it is still legal - and I wasn't impressed.
• the markets of La Ramba - a tree lined street - close to the older part of Barcelona. When we arrived at 10 am for our bike ride, it was very quiet but on our return 5 hours later we were 'shoulder' to 'shoulder' with lots of others and although fun to watch the street performers we were out of there pretty fast up to the hills above the crowds to enjoy the sunshine with only a few people.

And that was our whirlwind trip to Barcelona (except I forgot to mention the Tapas - yum). And some interesting articles from the paper we read in the airport on Friday night....

• Young people are deserting the internet especially things like facebook as parents work out its a way to keep track of what their kids are doing. 'Yesterday, I discovered that my mother was stalking me on Facebook and Twitter'... the number of 35-54 year olds wasting their time going on line to sights such as Facebook and Twitter has gone up 25% while the number of young folk (15-24%) logging on has dropped around 10%. Could it be because they have worked out that if they invite their parents to be 'friends' on Facebook, parents can actually see what they are doing? ' Interestingly enough over the last week 4 of my friends have invited me to join facebook as friends, so a sample of one, that's me, supports the stats.
• This is your guard speaking again...'passengers have said there were 31 announcements in 32 minutes on a train from Portsmouth to Petersfield' the other day. Certainly, on my trips to Swansea which seem to be weekly at the moment there is often a 'mind the gap between the train and the platform', 'remember to keep your bags with you', 'report unattended bags', 'this train will stop at ....', 'the next station is ...' (often wrong). The useful things are 'we're a few minutes late because waiting for a signal...' etc and the only other advantage I can see is that they keep me awake so I don't miss the station where I have to change trains.
  

And some jokes pertinent to the news worthy English political system at the moment:

• Did you hear the one about the MP who didn't put anything on expenses? No, me neither.
• How many MPs does it take to change a light bulb? None, but a family member will do it for £10,000.

And to finish the week off: Is there any point posting our vote on the referendum on 'smacking' when Harry doesn't vote the same as me!! Should I have saved the NZ tax payer from paying the cost of postage, or voted to show how important it is that we can have a say? And one I found just for Harry...

An elderly lady took her car to the garage for a service and requested that the wheels be moved around. the mechanic asked if she wanted the front wheels swapped to the rear and vice versa. "No" replied the lady. "Ah, so you want them swapped diagonally?" "No, not that either", was the response. "What exactly do you want me to move around then?" asked the exasperated mechanic. "The wheels! Every time I go to check the air in my tyres, the valves are in the wrong place - I want you to move the wheels so that when I park all the valves are at the bottom!"

Visiting the Queen

The week went by with a trip to:

• Swansea (cold and wet) with the cycle home from the station taking longer than planned (I tried a new route went down an underpass and after 15 minutes landed back at the station - thought I was getting to know Bristol but not apparently not).
• Skittles (which Harry's team won but not very convincingly).
• Salsa - our first lesson to learn the Caribbean dance, with a bit of African, European and rock and roll in the music and the steps (that's what I think anyway). Us girls, went round the room dancing with available men (including Harry) or by ourselves when there wasn't a male available and learnt a few of the steps - suspect even though we have practiced them one night will have forgotten them by next week. I am amused that you can also eat Salsa (Spanish for a sauce - a spicy mixture of ingredients) but when we were dancing I somehow think 'saucey' was a more appropriate description.

On the Friday, I was later than expected leaving work - got a bit held up at meetings and stuff but it was quite an eventful day. The founder of the West Coast Chapter of Hells Angels had died and the funeral procession started just outside the pub across the road from work and finished there in the afternoon for the wake. There was a 11 gunshot salute for him, a small police presence and heaps of bikies and their bikes. The gang members looked a bit different from the NZ ones, and their bikes were mainly clean and shiny to show off their colours, red, green, blue as well as the traditional black. Even though we were late leaving the trip to London went well with no significant hold ups (we haven't yet been caught in a major traffic jam - but the day we have no thermos and food it will happen). We arrived at the large Travelodge nestled between the M4 and Heathrow airport. Even with the windows open it was surprisingly quiet and we enjoyed a couple of nights there - it was in quite spacious grounds and I thought it a pity that there weren't sliding doors out to the grass where we could have sat drinking our late evening cuppa.

Saturday was our trip to the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace. So much more educated than a few weeks ago, we now knew who John Nash was (architect of Brighton Pavilion and Witley and many of the rooms at the palace and who was sacked the moment that King George IV died because he was way way way way way over budget - obviously it would have been nice if he had had some influence over the 1960's design of the Travelodge). It is summer - well lets rephrase that - peak tourist season when people come from all over the world expecting to see London in summer. The underground carried few English speaking people, and on the ground there were even less as school parties from all over Europe wandered around the gardens and around the palace. So, as we walked through the crowds, trying to catch a glimpse of the 'changing of the guard' we very quietly hummed the first two lines of AA Milnes famous poem and wished we knew the rest...

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We saw a guard in a sentry-box.
"One of the sergeants looks after their socks,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We looked for the King, but he never came.
"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They've great big parties inside the grounds.
"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.
"He's much too busy a-signing things,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
"Do you think the King knows all about me?"
"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"
Says Alice.

We couldn't take photos inside the palace. The staircase up to the rooms went up 2 floors, and a couple of the rooms were lovely - John Nash influence again. They had organised it well - having to purchase tickets early with a group allowed entry every 15 minutes to limit the number in each room. Went through 'airport security' and then through a great hall with lots of paintings - over to the balcony to view from a distance the Queen's private quarters and then through a number of the rooms - each one unique with large chandeliers and different colour schemes. Some lovely scotia boards - probably made of plaster of paris - but exquisite in their design. There was an exhibition of the Commonwealth - I didn't realise it started with only a few countries in 1949 and has grown to 53 countries now. Then out into the garden - which wasn't that impressive but I guess it lends itself to garden parties with a big lawn and little lake. Anyway, a place worth going to if you are ever in London - but sorry to have missed the Queen and her corgis!

Anyway, we sat and watched the world go by for a while in St James Park and saw the bands walk back to the baracks and the horses walking up the mall (and the little truck coming up afterwards to pick up what horses leave behind). We had a coffee and a pack of chips to provide that much needed energy for us tourists. Tyrrells are a new make of chips, and I wouldn't recommend them above any of the others except their packaging provided us with some laughs. "Our chips can be eaten as part of a healthy common sense diet along with plenty of broccoli and lots of exercise". Firstly, they didn't call them crisps like the English do - but what's with the broccoli? They even grow the potatoes so "we're in control from seed to chip" but here's the best "At Tyrrells we enjoy food and we enjoy life: something we often refer to as 'Tyrrelling'. Have you been Tyrrelling lately?" Wonder if that's a new word that will get into the Oxford dictionary one day. In the evening we wandered through Covent Garden, stood in some doorways to shelter from yet another downpour and ate dinner at a little Italian Restaurant (of which there are three with the same name in one block - not much good saying 'we'll meet at Bella Italia' is there?). Then off to see Calendar Girls which started off with a talk by a rather boring woman to the 'Women's Institute' on the History of - would you believe it Broccoli!! Anyway, they managed to disconnect the slide projector accidentally of course, so that the woman couldn't continue - it did have potential of being rather a boring play if the cast hadn't managed to do that but I couldn't resist on returning to Bristol looking at the History of Broccoli - so here is my version...its high in Vitamin C (one cup the same amount as an orange), Potassium, lots of Vitamin B's, Iron (one cup enough for your daily intake) - but these virtues weren't really appreciated in the 'ancient world'. In ancient Turkey the farmers first grew cabbages and then broccoli and around the 8th century it arrived in Italy where the Romans quite liked the little green vege and called in Calabrese. The first broccoli was purple which turned green when cooked. I think we saw some growing at Hampton Court flower show. It was cooked with cumin and coriander seeds, chopped onion with a touch of oil and sun-made wine or sometimes a creamy wine sauce. Now the overdose story - I like it - but not by itself! Roman Emperor Tiberius, who lived around the time of Jesus had a son named Drusius who rather liked broccoli - that is all he ate for a month. His urine turned bright green and his father scolded him severely for "living precariously" so that was that for his favourite vegetable. And I think thats enough of that famous vege described by John Randolph as "The stems will eat like Asparagus, and the heads like Cauliflower" and others called it "the five green fingers of Jupiter." You may think I missed the point of the show but not really - it was a fun and well presented with good acting and some laughs as well as a good message - just as good as the movie. 12 hours after arriving at the hotel we were back in London Central to catch up with Rebecca and Nylan. We wandered around Westminster Abbey (closed because it was Sunday) and decided that we might go to a service rather than pay the £15 entry fee, had lunch at a Thai/Chinese restaurant on the Thames, caught the underground to Madame Tussauds (but decided the queue was too long but pleased we had 2 for 1 vouchers at £25 entry fee each which we will save for another day) and ended up in Regent Park, eating ice- creams and listening to Jazz. Rather a relaxing afternoon.

And just because I love getting photos of the special people in my life here are a couple of photos of Shaz and Az's trip to Gold Coast recently. I also love getting comments on the blog - I've had a few lately.