Bucklers Hard and Other Stuff

This week we had a treat - we went to Lord of the Dance.  We were looking forward to some foot and finger tapping music and a sing-a-long with the music we know so well. 
I danced in the morning when the world was begun
I danced in the Moon and the Stars and the Sun
I came down from Heaven and I danced on Earth
At Bethlehem I had my birth:
Dance then, wherever you may be
I am the Lord of the Dance, said He!
And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be
And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said He!

Great words and sung by lots of different people over time including Donovan, Sydney Carter, The Dubliners, Stephen Curtis Chapman, Family Kelly and of course us!!  Apparently it is a show that 'continues to shatter box office records all over the world, leaving audiences breathless and clamoring for more' but unfortunately it didn't quite do it for us - there seemed to be something lacking although the dancers were very talented and I could never begin to match their skills - I got the feeling that the rest of the audience felt the same (volume of clapping is a good indication).  And on another night we went to the Bath Christmas Market - they are so big over here but this is the first year we have intentionally gone to one.  We chose straight after work on a dark, dry night and glad we did because we could wander around the stores and listen to carol singers without rambling slowly along with a very large crowd.  The market was in about three different streets around the Abbey and we enjoyed looking briefly at the 120 or so stalls with lots of handmade and unusual gifts including Christmas decorations, mulled wine, almonds in ginger and caramel, german sausage (our dinner that night wasn't particularly nutritious!!). We didn't buy anything except food at the market stalls (we were tempted to buy a wooden tie but although novel quite expensive for a gimicky type of present) but as all the other shops were open we marched into a sports store and bought some more winter leggings, a replacement hat for me (the last one I lost climbing abbey steps in Geneva so quite fitting I bought another one near an abbey), and a really warm fleecy jacket for me.  The hat lasted two days before I dropped it in a puddle while getting out of the car and found it the next day sitting miserable and dirty beside the car (after a wash it is returned to a wearable status).  We also stumbled across Winchester Market on Sunday when returning to Bristol.  That was so crowded that we couldn't wait to leave, but spent a bit of time looking through the cathedral and the ice rink before heading for the car.  They reckon that a ¼ million visitors come to the Winchester markets, and some of those come in 120 buses. Busy!! The thing over here is 'German markets'. I think that means that the stalls are in little decorated German- style chalets, with their snowy roofs and little lights.  The chalets circled the ice-rink and sold everything that the Bath market sold and possibly more.  One quote I found was from a stall owner that said  “ in 17 years of trading, and at all the major events in the UK, including those top ones in London, he had never made as much money as at the Winchester Christmas Market…..”.  And there was also one in Southampton but much much smaller.

And there is another story about Winchester Cathedral (which incidentally was huge!). Jane Austen is buried there.  After singing (does everyone do this when they visit new places?)
"Winchester Cathedral
You're bringing me down
You stood and you watched as
My baby left town
You could have done something
but you didn't try
You didn't do nothing
You let her walk by
Now everyone knows just how much I needed that gal
She wouldn't have gone far away
If only you'd started ringing your bell (which she did when we were there)
Winchester Cathedral..."
We still maintain that St Mary Redcliffe Church in Bristol is the best church/cathedral we have seen.  This was to the amazement of Harry's work mates on Friday night when we were having a Christmas dinner with them.  Out the window was St Mary Redcliffe which most of the locals had not been to so we told them our thoughts and most of them were surprised, but not surprised enough to make a visit. 
Anyway, we found Jane Austen's gravestone 'youngest daughter of the late Reverend George Austen' (where was Mum when all this was happening I asked?).  We were particularly keen to find her gravestone and after reading the next paragraph you'll see why...On the Saturday evening we arrived in the dark into Southampton - a city we had never explored before. Arriving at the Tourist Information Centre right near to closing I found a leaflet called 'Jane Austen Heritage Trail'.  Now wandering around Southampton in the dark with Christmas lights sparkling at us and looking at the places Jane lived, played and danced felt like a good idea - especially when Harry found another leaflet that told us we could burn up to 600 calories in doing so - is that equivalent to a latte and piece of rocky road we asked ourselves?  It was quite an amusing walk and by the end of it we were laughing and saying things like 'this is going on a heritage walk when you aren't going on a heritage walk'.  You'll see why ...

• Firstly we passed the old stone gate where a plaque reminded us that Jane visited Southampton as a girl aged 7.
• Then there was All Saints Church where she worshipped.  The church no longer stands as it was bombed during the war.  It is now just 'another shop' in the mall.
• Then we walked the wall to the Spa Gardens were the spa fountain and botanical gardens were where Jane and her family went for their daily constitutional - well now it is a car park.
• We continued to wander around the tower wall to the house where she used to live -  No 2 Castle Square - it is now been replaced by a pub.
• The Long Rooms and Hot Baths which would have been nice to visit in winter is now a rather modern looking, probably 5* hotel (still nice to visit in the winter I imagine).
• The Theatre Royal where Jane and her family enjoyed the theatre is now a block of flats - built probably around the 1960's.
  
• The Water Gate where her family caught a boat to have a picnic in 1807 stands beside a busy road.  The land has been reclaimed and marinas and apartments have been built (its called Ocean Village which I wandered around while Harry went to the museum).  And some distance away the Queen Victoria was berthed for the night.
• And lastly on to the Dolphin Hotel - yes we could go inside this - and see the hall were Jane danced here 18th birthday nigh away.  Yeah right - closed for renovations - we couldn't even see the outside.  It does have a 'magnificent' bay window they say!!

You can see why we were so pleased to find her grave stone - yes it still exists!! and we did burn up  600 calories each so all was not lost!!

On the banks of the Beaulieu River not far from Southampton is Buckler's Hard and the New Forest National Park.  We had a cornish pastie sitting outside in the cold before wandering through the little boat building village towards the river.  Bucklers Hard (a Hard is a natural formation which is hard enough to allow boats to be launched) was created in the early 18th century by the 2nd Duke of Montagu. His aim was to create a port to import sugar from the West Indies. This idea didn't really work cos at the same time the French took over the West Indies so Bucklers Hard was turned into a boat building place for the Royal Navy.  We wandered along the river - negotiated a few rather large puddles which were made worse by the incoming tide - and finished our walk when gumboots were needed to wade through the largest of all puddles. In times gone by this was a smugglers paradise.  So called 'free traders' could navigate the river and unsuspecting men whose job it was to collect taxes could easily be lost in the creeks and mud without ever being found.  And here is a hint - if ever in a similar environment do as the smugglers did - strap planks of wood to your feet to help them slide along and not sink.  Another hint - make out as though the place is haunted - add a few clanking chains to clank in the wind, add some screams during the night and make sure there is an occasional ghostly apparition for full effect.  Perhaps night time isn't the best time to visit. More recently, there is the story of the village offering a peaceful home to those living in the city during the bombings.  They were inundated, not with families but 150 young school boys and there masters.  Later on some land girls also came which 'added a new dimension to town life'.  The town has its own little chapel (with a memorial to Chichester who began his trip around the world on the Gipsy Moth from here).  Henry Adams who apparently was well known in 'boat building circles' and his family built the Agamemnon, the Euryalus and the Swiftsure here - these boats all went to the Battle of Trafalgar. Lord Nelson really liked the Agamemnon and when he was captain he met Lady Hamilton in Naples and then later lost his right eye at the siege of Calvi. I don't think those two events were connected.  Once wooden ships were no longer popular and iron ships were becoming well accepted ship building at Buckler’s Hard stopped and it became a sleepy rural village where boats, mainly for leisure, are still built and maintained and many go sailing along the river on a sunny Sunday afternoon.  Other famous people to be linked to this area include Neville Shute - his books are being re-released - yeah perhaps I can find some of the ones I haven't yet read in the library.

Driving to and from Bucklers Hard we came across some of the New Forest Ponies.  They wander around the New Forest oblivious to people and cars, they appear to on the roads and the village streets.  They are native to this area of the country and are known for their hardiness, strength and sureness of foot (all needed particularly in winter!).  I didn't get to close to them cos I was a bit more shy of them than they of me.  The ponies ancestors first came to the area over a thousand years ago and really they are quite a 'moggy' horse - with heaps of different bloodlines being introduced over the years.  The horses are privately owned (the cut of the tail tells the rightful owner - though they all looked as though their tails were left to grow naturally - to our uneducated eyes), they roam free and are not wild in the least.  Anyway, I read this description and thought it quite interesting...
"You can identify a New Forester by its free, even movement, plenty of frame, muscular hind quarters, good depth of body and a sense of solidity in the frame. The head should show pride, the shoulders should be well sloped with deep reach, the quarters, strong and well muscled, the body is deep, and the legs show an even line with strong joints and stolid hooves...They are noted for friendliness, intelligence, strength, versatility and are nearly always willing-to-please. New Forestors are amongst the most approachable of all the native British pony breeds, perhaps because of their history of frequent contact with man". So, naturally my mind wandered to the Kaimanawa ponies at home which are quite a different breed.  Although, they descend from the domestic horses released in the 18 and 1900's they are wild in nature.  They are known to be hardy and quiet, but numbers are controlled in order to protect the ranges where several endangered species of plants also live.  Horses were first introduced to New Zealand by Samuel Marsden in December 1814 and 60 years later wild horses were running around the Kaimanawa Ranges.  Over time they like the New Forest Ponies have had a number of bloodlines introduced, intentionally or not it is unclear, but I did read somewhere that in the 1960s an Arabian stallion was set free in the area.  And if you can be bothered comparing the features of the Kaimanawa horses to the English New Forest ones here is the description of the kiwi four legged creature...
"a short, deep neck with a thick throat area, straight shoulders, a deep girth, and a short to medium back. The hindquarters vary from sloping to well-rounded. The legs are long and well-muscled, with strong hooves, and hind hooves that are generally smaller than the front ones".  

Enough about horses (who incidentally I am quite scared of as they are so much bigger than me) and on to some other forms of transport - yes we are back to planes...The birthday boy went to an

air museum.  He spent an hour or so wandering around a rather small museum cramped with aeroplanes.  It was the first time he spied a Supermarine S6A which was a racing sea plane which won the Schneider trophy. Jacques Schneider was a financier, balloonist and aircraft enthusiast who offered £1,000 to try and encourage technical advances in civil aviation.  With that sort of money up for grabs it became a race - 11 races between 1913 and 1931.  Harry also climbed into an ex-Ansett Solent Flying Boat which has quite a different cabin layout to the modern passenger airliner.

During my read of all the leaflets I could find in the hotel foyer (friends still laugh when they think I collect brochures) I saw one about a windmill.  I didn't think much of it, because we weren't intending to go down that way but when we arrived at the air museum to find it didn't open until 12.00, and we were 2 hours early (yes it was on the leaflet but oh so small print) we decided to take a drive and I saw a sign to the Burlesdon Windmill.  So, Harry turned the car in the same way as the sign while I sang 'I saw a sign' by that group called Ace of Base and we ended up at 'Hampshire's only working windmill'.  It actually goes (I suppose that is what working means) so we had a short video and tour of the windmill - not a lot of wind so the crew manually turned blades for our benefit.  We then were treated to a demonstration of flour making using early wooden machinery before taking some photos of the windmill's reflection in the small pond (isn't it interesting how the wind always blows just as the photo of a reflection is being taken?).

Leicester

We've been learning lots of interesting things over here - things we would never have known before like where certain towns are, what famous person were born, married or buried somewhere and so on.  But we are also learning more about the personalities of famous people like Constable, Dickens, George Bernard Shaw and the Beatles.  Part of this is looking around their home towns and reading all the brochures etc and some of it is because there seem to be lots of movies on at the moment that are biographies.  We've seen two lately...

Amelia - that movie about the woman who wanted to fly - so much so that she did not only fly but the first woman solo across the Atlantic and then in her attempt around the world went missing somewhere over a very small island in the Pacific.  I always wonder what drives some people to do what they dream of, while others sit and dream and never do it. Although, dreams are free there are a lot of people out there that achieve their dreams without initially having the money.  It was quite sad to think that Amelia and her navigator were so close to achieving her dream - yet so far away on that day in 1937 when they stared across the ocean looking for a hunk of land that is less than 2 square kilometres and only 6 kilometres long.  The island has no economic activity, probably only a few inhabitants if any, and is "perhaps best known as the island Amelia Earhart never reached". Apparently they built airstrips on the island for her planned stopover but they have never been used and time has slowly made them disappear once again.
And then there was Enid Blyton - another woman driven by some strong inner will to write stories for children.  As a primary school child I enjoyed reading her books about the Famous Five without being harmed by the current debate on the themes of homosexuality and racism that some think were included in her books. The story of Enid's life was fascinating as the film depicted her to care more for her imaginary children than for her own little girls. In fact we got the impression she was quite child like in a way.  If true, quite a sad story that she could give so many children pleasure - but not be a good parent (we've seen some really good examples of parenting by famous people here eg Constable and Darwin).  Some say that this is reflected in many of her stories they were about children - but included no interaction with their parents - and I seem to recall that true of the Famous Five.
This week we also went to Cabaret. I didn't really know the plot that well, if at all if I tell the truth, but reading on the web the description  "A female girlie club entertainer in Berlin romances two men while the Nazi Party rises to power around them" seems to describe it quite well - a sad story - but professionally sung and acted.
And on my train trip to Swansea this week I had an interesting start to the day.  Temple Meads is quite a large station and you have to walk along subways and climb stairs to get to the platforms.  As I headed up the stairs a young girl asked me to carry her coffee as she had forgotten about the stairs when she bought it and had her bike to take up as well. Then while waiting in the cold an elderly man started chatting to me about his trip to Cardiff  "Do they tell you what station you are stopping at?" he asked.  I began to wonder if he was going to a specialist or something and would receive some 'not so good news' as there was an aura of what I thought tenseness about him.  But no - he was going to the Malaysian Embassy to get visas for himself and his wife.  There daughter lives out there and this is their annual visit to see them.  Normally he would drive but with the road works (they had started when we first arrived and are still going) he decided to take the train - the first time in 20 years and with a sparkle in his eye he said "he felt like a five year old taking his first train trip" - not tense but excited I realised.  When I sat opposite him in the train I noticed he had a canvas bag - stitched with flags he has been to more countries than we have and obviously wasn't going stop in the near future.
And now for the weekend.  We were off to Leicestershire to spend Saturday with Mike and Barbara (Northampton is only a stones throw away from Leicester) and Sunday doing who knows what!!
We started off at Newton Linford, where we found the right carpark this time, to meet Mike and Barbara and were in time to take a few photos of some little or really big thatched cottages before taking a walk in Bradgate Park.

It was a cold day and on came our hats, gloves, leg warmers and warm jackets (I had handed round a packet of tea cakes before all the palava of getting dressed - and have some quite good photos of tea cakes in mouths while clothing was put on - I haven't put any photos on the blog cos I just wouldn't do that to my friends).  It was our first longish walk this winter and we enjoyed it.  Bradgate Park is rather a lovely landscape - bracken covered hills so at this time of the yearare frost bitten and brown - with lots of deer foraging for food.  Charles Bennion who died in the late 1920's gifted the park to the people just before his death.  Obviously, a wealthy man, after growing up as a farmers son and then spending time working on the railway and as a ships engineer before becoming interested in the manufacturing of shoe making machinery manufacture.  He was a founding member of the British United Shoe Machinery Co. Ltd. Charles Bennion was managing director of the company. He purchased the 800 or so acre park from the ancestors of the Grey family.  Mike said it was a quiet day at the park, and with more than 1 million visitors a year, I could imagine sometimes the hills might look as though they are moving.  Up the top is the Old John Tower and the Charles Bennion memorial which has a plaque with  "In grateful remembrance of Charles Bennion of Thurnby in this county who in the year 1928 with the helpful concurrence of the heirs of the Greys of Groby purchased from them this park of Bradgate and presented it in trust for the city and county of Leicester that for all time it might be preserved in its natural state for the quiet enjoyment of the people of Leicestershire. His true memorial lies around." The Old John Tower is shaped like a beer mug - and you can imagine the stories that go around about why a beer mug is at the top of the Bradgate hill.  Anyway, moving on down the hill we came to Queen Adelaides oak where the Queen, the widow of William IV enjoyed a picnic one sunny day in the shade of the oak tree "The venison was good, so were the trout.." wrote the Queen in her diary.  I have also figured out why so many pubs are called the Royal Oak - the trees play a significant role in the history of England (eg Robin Hood and his merry men met under one, other princes hid in them, and Queens picnicked underneath them).  This one, had a 'baby' tree planted beside the old one so that when one dies which unfortunately they do, the new one will be there to remember the important occasions. 

Not far from the tree is Bradgate House and it is where Lady Jane Grey (great niece of Henry VIII and grand daughter of Mary Tudor) was born and lived most of her short life, before she reigned for nine days and then got beheaded. The house is now a ruin but it wasn't hard to imagine it as a great mansion, with people all dressed in the clothing of the day enjoying the countryside and picnicking in the warm summery days.

And then it was into Leicester for an explore of the Roman Wall I had seen on the web and some dinner. The Jewry Wall (which was part of the Roman public baths) which is thought to be one of the tallest Roman walls still standing and is not like in most a wall to protect the residents.  The baths were a place where people came to wash and socialise - I'm assuming the water was warm. The name comes from the name of the Roman council that consisted of 12 men (jury comes from the same source - Jurat) who used to meet just down the road.  Beside the wall is St Nicholas Church - where when trying the door (it was 4.00 and dark so we assumed it would be closed) we were welcomed warmly and treated to a quick talk about the church, a bell ringing exhibition and then a song played on the organ.  All very special in the oldest church in Leicester partly made by rocks from the ruin next door and now kept by the 20 or so parishioners. So after saying goodbye, we wandered into the centre of town looked at a few shop windows, before Barbara and I had a ride on the merry go round and we found a nice Italian restaurant for dinner.

Sunday morning we didn't hurry but ended up outside the Snibston Discovery Centre right on opening time - well the opening time on the notice board.  We spent our time while waiting finding out about the National Forest - there are a number of them around England and the purpose of them is return the  land that has been farmed for centuries back into forests - hence a lot of them are called 'new forests'.  This one has 7 million trees planted but they hope to get up to 30 million target - a nice place to sit and have a cup of tea while watching people fishing for carp.  Snibston is a museum built on the site of an old colliery where George Stephenson did a lot of his work building railways.  It also has rather a good collection of fashion and costumes, as well as a number of aeroplanes, trains, tractors, cars and so on.  A few things took my fancy while wandering around...There was a display of people wearing aprons - all of them female I might add.   I discovered that aprons had more purposes than just tying them round your waist to protect your clothes when cooking.  They were initially for both sexes while they worked doing what they do, but it was around the 1950s they began to symbolise 'good wives and good mothers' ie they wanted to look fresh and presentable when their husbands came home from work.  Ok so aprons mean food...and it was in 1445 that a local housewife was so busy making pancakes that she'd forgotten about going to church.  When the church bells rang she ran out of her house, frying pan still in hand with her apron still on.  And that is how Shrove Tuesday came about - and every year woman now run a race with aprons (and I assume pancakes).  There was one man wearing an apron in Snibston and that was the man that made the icecream in what was the first mobile icecream van.  But Mr Whippy is getting a hard time at the moment.  The officials that can do these things, is now enabling schools to stop ice-cream vans from operating near school gates.  They aren't allowed in pay-and-display parking spaces anymore and there are “ice-cream-free”exclusion zones around lots of busy retail areas (where presumably there are other places that sell ice-cream like McDonalds).  So the soft freeze (which I have never really liked compared to a proper icecream) may slowly begin to reduce from the 5,000 there is today to only a few - a similar number to the horse-drawn vans that sold ice-cream to the children playing in the cobbled streets back in the 19th century.  Perhaps playing Greensleeves as they drive along the streets is appropriate after all...

"Alas, my love, you do me wrong,
To cast me off discourteously.
For I have loved you well and long,
Delighting in your company".

And after that visit down memory lane there was another - one of the first fish and chip shops with the cook - yes wearing an apron.  No one really knows where this traditional English delight came from but even Charles Dickens mentioned a “fried fish warehouse” in Oliver Twist. Anyway, it is official that the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach - I'll have to think about that one!! Apparrently 90% of woman recently surveyed said that a man should have at least basic cooking skills. And what's more they reckon that fish is the seductive food (successful in about 30% of romances to put the 'woman in the mood.)

And is it any wonder after thinking about food all day we stopped at that little pub in Droitwich we had found once before for an early dinner just as the rain set in.
The other day I saw a milk truck coming up our street - he was delivering milk in glass bottles.

We've been here 2.5 years

This could be a bumper blog - probably not the longest but probably close.  There's lots of reasons like we've been doing lots of interesting things and finding out lots of history and I haven't managed to sit down at the computer for a while cos I have been doing that quite a lot at work and need a break when I get home and Harry and Mike (from Northampton) have been organising a trip for Barbara and me for New Year and we've been here 2.5 years on 19 November (that was Thursday) and so have lots of things to contemplate.  Besides that in the last 3 months 402 people have at least got to the front page of the blog so I guess I will just keep writing. We went to the Colston Hall to listen to the RAF band play.  That was after having quite a nice dinner at an Indian/Nepalese restaurant called Kathmandu (just down the road from the NZ/Aussie clothing shop with the same name). We really enjoyed that foot stomping music and sat in the front row - which initially we thought wasn't the best row to sit in because the stage is higher than the seats and we couldn't see the whole band.  But after a while I got used to seeing black shoes (some patent leather, others with patent leather toes, others actually polished by a conscientitious band player) tapping and swaying (some tap one foot, others two, others swing a leg it depends a little bit on what instrument they are playing).  We listened to some great soloists but the one that will stick in my mind is the xylophonist - who was also the drummer - he played it so well with lots of concentration and enthusiasm.  I began to pose the question to myself, and later to Harry on the walk to the car, 'Does a musician choose his instrument or the instrument choose the musician?' cos if you passed the musician in the street you wouldn't automatically know he was great at playing the xylophone.  It's a similar question to 'Did you choose your cat or did it choose you?'  I can remember when we went to find a cat at the RSPCA in Wellington.  Sharon and Michael sat on the floor of this rather large cage of cats (they were little at the time) and most of the cats continued to do their thing but one very large tabby cat with huge paws came up and nuzzled Sharon and we took him home.  We called him Lollipop but that is another story.  Anyway I digress...

After some research I think musicians are chosen by their instrument and there are some people out there that concur with me (or I with them).  An instrument has a personality - some are harder to learn, some squeak when played by a beginnier, others reward the player for their perseverance.  If you are keen to learn quickly then trumpets and cornets are great, but if you are one of those diligent ones that take the time to practice and perfect the sax could be the answer.  Some people just don't have the patience for frustrating weeks of squawking (or perhaps those who cohabit with the musician do not) while others have that much admired quality 'patience'.  Apparently the squawking, squeaking, squealing and scratching can be quite demotivating to learners and listeners. So matching the personality of the player with the personality of the instrument sounds really important to me. With those musings we can now go to see a band and think now you are a guitarist because you have great perseverance to go through the pain of developing hardened fingers, and you are a saxophonist because you like to practice and perfect and don't mind the awful sounds of a 'mistake'.  We could just go on for ever.

On the Friday we drove up to just north of Birmingham and then Saturday morning the rest of the way to Lancaster.  We weren't quite sure what we would strike, traffic wise and weather wise, as there has been some disastrous flooding in the Lake District just north of Lancaster - we were planning a day trip to what all people who live here say 'is lovely' but we didn't as the '1 in a 1000 year flood' had just happened and more rain fell in the 24 hours than ever before playing havoc with the roads, bridges, houses and shops.  It is sad because some of the towns like Cockermouth had suffered from floods a few years ago and there had been lots of money spent to fortify them against a '1 in 100 year flood'.  There are heroic stories of people being rescued and their dogs and cats and the sad story of a policeman drowning after a bridge was washed away (this was a big concrete bridge).  We heard from the receptionist at our hotel that workers at the Travelodge in Cumbria had been stranded for 3 days - I guess they at least had a bed to sleep in but that probably wasn't much of a consolation!!  The clean up is now beginning but there must be lots of concern up there as lots of the houses are terraced granite and pretty old to stand up to that sort of flood.  So, we looked over to the hills of Cumbria from Morecambe hoping that the raining would lighten up over there giving some respite to the residents and knowing we would go to the Lake District another time - perhaps in summer we'll visit what is already officially known as 'the wettest place in Britain'.  Morecambe is a seaside village a bit like lots of others.  Not a lot to see except the walk along the promenade and on the beach was just what we needed after the long trip in the car.  The tide was just coming in so there was the sea lapping up to mud flats with the reeds providing a little fence around each boat.  Morecambe is home to Eric Morecambe (of Morecambe and Wise fame), but the town was not named after his family - it was the other way round. We also drove through Heysham "home to some charming 17th Century cottages and Barns" and famous for its non-alcoholic nettle beer (which we didn't try).  But just over the hill from this little village were two rather large number nuclear power stations - they've been generating nuclear power for more than 25 years - kind of spoilt the 17th century village somehow.

 And then on to Lancaster - we visited Williamson Park once a stone quarry - but a great way to clean up the environment once the quarrying had been done.  Williamson was a linoleum manufacturer who gave the Park (or the quarry not sure) to Lancaster.  On the top of the park is the Ashton Memorial (another memorial built for someone's wife)which we climbed to as it was getting quite dark (it was only 4.00 - gates closed at dusk but we worked out we could climb over a garden to get out if we left the car outside).  We just missed climbing the steps to the top - but we continue to forget the as the nights draw in everything closes down.   We also wandered around Lancaster Castle which over looks the city as most castles do.  This one is now a low security prison but we were able to wander around some of the earlier parts of the castle including the magnificent court rooms (only magnificent if you weren't being tried I guess), as well as being told all about the family shields -one of the best collections in England we were told -you can tell what each family did from their shield - now to pass the time while listening attentively to the guide I wondered what would be on my shield - I can have four different pictures at the most and so I thought I could have on my shield a kiwi, silver fern, two children and a beach with hills in the background.  Maybe I should design one to hang on a castle wall somewhere (yeah right).  We wandered through the 12th century keep, through the Witches' Tower built 200 hundred years later, a  Gatehouse, cell block and also the place they hung those declared guilty. It was interesting but also a cruel reminder of how barbaric our ancestors were - if they could have only shared their wealth around many people would not have needed to take the risk and steal a loaf of bread to feed their families.

The next day we were off to the Wedgwood factory.  Wedgewood is the grandfather of Charles and Emma Darwin so the family tree is beginning to get pieced together for us.  Quite a brilliant man (it seems to run in the family) he created his pottery factory as well as taking an active role in trying to ban slavery. Like his grandson a few decades later he liked experiments and he soon created the first pottery factory.  He did lots of scientific experiments in the name of pottery and it is thought he revolutionized pottery and china making. We wandered through a factory where a few employees sat and painted, or made figurines and were told that Wedgewood is bone china (silly us - we thought that meant high quality and fragile!!).  No its because it is made out of bone - the more crushed bone there is the stronger the china and Wedgewood is 51% bone (originally from Argentinian farms but since the Falkland War now comes from Ireland).  I did wonder what vegeterians would think of eating off bone china - and I must admit I don't think I'll ever view a piece of china quite the same again.  I am pleased to say that most of the people we have told this story didn't know either!! His pottery was well known, with royalty from lots of European countries ordering huge dinner sets (100 piece settings), and some even had a different country scene or house on each setting.  Quite an undertaking to feed the wealthy in those days.  Wedgwood was also a major driver of the creation of the Trent and Mersey Canal - the main reason - to take his china wares to the Liverpool Ports in a  more sedate manner than a horse and cart across country lanes (china is tough but not quite that tough).  Besides his creative streak he was also an astute business man and many attribute modern marketing (eg direct mail, money-back guarantees, traveling salesmen, self-service, free delivery, buy one get one free, and illustrated catalogues) to him.  I can see why the business did well. But over the years, and probably for a number of reasons in the company's 250th year the company went into liquidation - it is £400 million in debt - in this day perhaps the product may just be a bit over priced (though hand made does seem to be another word for expensive).  We saw a gorgeous honey pot which we would have bought (even though we don't like honey) but it was a mere £250.  In recent years the company had nearly 8000 workers but one employee said there were now only a few hundred.  They join other quite significant companies in the history of England like Woolworths, Hardy Amies the Tailors, Whittard of Chelsea tea and coffee merchants and Royal Worcester Ceramics.

And then as the evening again drew in we pulled up at the carpark at Cannock Chase - 'An Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty' - better known as AONB.  There are 47 of these in the UK and they are defined as "a precious landscape whose distinctive character and natural beauty are so outstanding that it is in the nation's interest to safeguard them". We've a few AONBs' over here and their prime purpose is 'conservation' for future generations. As we wandered around Cannock Chase I did wonder if 'An area of outstanding natural beauty' was another name for 'a place to walk your dog', but thinking about it anywhere in England where you can walk without seeing a building or a house is quite a luxury and certainly worth looking after for the future generations - and what's more the dogs do enjoy it.  And in Cannock Chase is a very special place - we almost missed it.  When we were sitting in the car having a cuppa a young man came up and asked us if we knew how to find the cemetery - which we didn't then - but it reminded us that we had read about it the night before.  So, with a help of a map, and after a number of wrong turnings and evasion of deer wandering nonchantly across the roads we found it.  So, here is some more history...
In 1959 the UK and Germany made an agreement about the future care of the graves of German nationals who lost their lives in the United Kingdom during the two World Wars. They agreed that there would be a central cemetery in the United Kingdom of all graves which were not situated in cemeteries and plots of Commonwealth war graves. So, approximately 5000 graves of German and Austrian servicemen and civilian internees were bought to their final resting place in the new cemetery established at Cannock Chase (only about 5 can not be named). But we found it hard to believe that this cemetery had links to the brave soldiers of kiwiland.  During the first World War the New Zealand Rifle Brigade set up camp in the area beside a 1000 bed prisoner-of-war hospital.  The land that the camp and the hospital stood on is now the cemetery.
There are about 97 Commonwealth graves and most of them New Zealanders.  It was pretty bleak in Stafford and you can imagine the New Zealand camp suffered greatly during their time there.  In 1918 there was a serious influenza epidemic at the end of June but only a handful of men died.  It was not so a few months later, when only a few days from the end of the war many more died - very sad.  We did not see Freda's Grave.  It is a lovely story of a dalmation dog, who must have been loved by the brigadiers.  Her collar and lead are kept in Waioru military museum.  The stories of how she became friends of the brigade is a bit hazy - either she was found in Cannock Chase, or another story is that she was adopted in France and brought back to England with them.  There are stories though that she comforted many a wounded soldier in the battlefields.  A sombre way to end another wintry weekend in England.

During the weekend the All Blacks won again and we thought about our 2 and a half years in England.  When we totted up the number of countries we have been to it came to 21 and we gave up trying to count how many planes we have got on and off, cities we've walked around, musicals and shows we have been too.  Though, with the blog if ever we get bored we can go through and work out a huge number of statistics.  But I'm not going to.  I was saying to Mike the other day how I miss everyone so much and he said  "I know you miss us and we miss you, but you'd regret coming back before you  have done everything.  Besides I get quite a kick out of telling people my Mum is in England on her OE". 

Top Gear and Droitwich

We went to Top Gear Live this weekend in Birmingham - though this blog will be more about 'places to stay' than about cars. Car enthusiasts will wonder and never understand how a vivid imagination is required for a non-car enthusiast to spend 8 hours in a hall full of cars and still smile at the end of it. While wandering around with the crowd Harry and I managed to get separated and as Harry didn’t need me to have a good time I found some things to entertain me which didn't involve looking under a bonnet - including a live show of two television celebrities who I had never heard of building a car in six hours, interviews with the Chief Executive of a Classic Car Magazine and the R2D2 (actor inside the robot)...
So, onto places to stay - the story really began on Saturday morning.  We had booked our hotel in Droitwich not far from the convention centre (huge by the way). Not far from the hotel was a magnificent building sitting on a hill - I did wonder if we had taken a detour and somehow ended up in France (dreams are free!!). The Chateau Impney was built in 1875 by John Corbett – he was known as the Salt King as Worcester is salt country. The Chateau was a present to his wife – I think she was previously a French governess. Apparently they fell in love and must have wandered around Versailles at some stage during their courtship - all dreamy eyed and lovey dovey - but out of the corner of his eye he was thinking of his 'gift' to be modelled on the Versaille buildings. The Chateau was built by over 3000 workmen who also landscaped the property – the big drive up to the chateau gives it quite a prominence.  It is a hotel now, and I thought it would be really expensive to spend a night there (we would have proudly parked our little Saxo amongst the Jags, Mercedes and BMWs). I have informed Harry that when he next ‘owes me’ (remember the time when we were going biking and ended up an air show – another one of those times!) we could go and stay at the Chateau. Only £79.90 for the two of us and cheaper than a microlight flight. Not sure what the meals cost but we could skip to the Robin Hood down the road (we enjoyed a very nice meal there on Saturday night) and we wouldn't have to take our own breakfast because that is included in the price.

In Droitwich itself is another rather large hotel "The Raven Hotel" (it is mainly timber framed but has a new entrance that does not quite fit with the rest of the building) as it takes up a few blocks, is built in the tudor style and inside (yes we did wander through this one as there was no doorman guarding the back entrance to stop waifs and strays from looking) the interior was dark wood panelling (oak at a guess) and lots of leather bound couches and chairs holding people who were sipping drinks and tea and chatting to their friends. There was a table with those ‘nice’ afternoon teas you can buy with little finger size cucumber and ham sandwiches, cup cakes, scones and cream etc and a very nicely presented dining room. Some parts of the hotel are a bit older and date back to the late 1100’s. I think it might be cheaper to stay here than at the Chateau - but it would be the second option for me.

And the last place to stay if the other two didn’t take my fancy (which of course they did) was the little caravan in the classic motor show that is now a barbers and tattooist – it was so cute and has such a history. This one was built in late 1920s, designed and created by Wally Byam – whom I had never heard of before. He sold ‘ready to assemble’ kits in the early 1920's and started off with building them in his back yard in LA.  The business actually survived the crash of 1929 (presumably cheap homes might have become a favourite of those that felt the crash and it meant you could say goodbye to the neighbours if you wanted to).  Wally gave up his advertising, and publishing to become a full-time builder of travel trailers. He was quite a clever cookie as he used aircraft construction methods to lessen wind resistance and improve the trailer's strength-to-weight ratio.  In 1936 they were described as having a aerodynamic and contemporary look.  In 1936 the "Clipper" was born. It could sleep four, thanks to its dinette which could convert to a bed. It carried its own water supply, had an enclosed galley, and was fitted with electric lights throughout. The Clipper boasted advanced insulation and a ventilation system, and even offered "air conditioning" that used dry ice. A bit more than $5 for this masterpiece as they were now selling for $1200 (alot of money in those days). They got lots of business even throughout the depression. During World War II the company closed down due to lack of demand but after the war Wally reopened his company.  In America they think that the "Clipper" is as famous as the Coca-Cola bottle and to the Zippo lighter.  Now you can join the Wally Byam Caravaners if you so wish and travel around with others pulling the same magnificent holiday home. I quite liked the sound of Wally Byam - some of his quotes about the caravan and caravanning - makes me want to buy one and get out there:

•  "Don’t stop. Keep right on going. Hitch up your trailer and go to Canada or down to Old Mexico. Head for Europe, if you can afford it, or go to the Mardi Gras. Go someplace you’ve heard about, where you can fish or hunt or collect rocks or just look up at the sky. Find out what’s at the end of some country road. Go see what’s over the next hill, and the one after that, and the one after that."
• "To lead caravans wherever the four winds blow... over twinkling boulevards, across trackless deserts... to the traveled and untraveled corners of the earth".
• "To play some part in promoting international goodwill and understanding among the peoples of the world through person-to-person contact".
• "To strive endlessly to stir the venturesome spirit that moves you to follow a rainbow to its end... and thus make your travel dreams come true".
• "To place the great wide world at your doorstep for you who yearn to travel with all the comforts of home".
• "To provide a more satisfying, meaningful way of travel that offers complete travel independence, wherever and whenever you choose to go or stay".

That was my trip to the car show and now about Harry’s.  Harry enjoyed wandering around the five exhibition halls.  He spent ages looking at the Rover gas turbine car - great piece of technology - and an engine that should normally take you into the skies rather than along the roads.  He was much more enthusiastic about the Top Gear show than me and he would enjoyed having a ride in one of the stunt cars.

We also wandered around Droitwich in the rain before taking off to Birmingham.  This was one of the areas badly flooded a couple of years ago but you could see no signs of it now - although apparently many of the shops weren’t opened until a year later.  It wasn't really the 'wandering around' weather and so we ended up going to the National Exhibition Centre a bit earlier than intended (which in retrospect Harry was very pleased about).  I certainly wasn't quite prepared for the 20 interconnected halls, set in grounds of 628 acres and it was a long long way from the car park to the hall.
The Top Gear Show was quite fun - full of lights, noise, friendly banter and unique auto competitions and stunts.  The show is coming to New Zealand in the new year - one stop in a global trot.

And on Sunday we had a leisurely drive along A-roads to Northampton to see Mike and Barbara and to plan our New Year trip. On the way we past through Feckenham (I had seen on the web the notice ‘What happens in Feckenham? Not a lot and that is how we like it’. So I suggested that we went and saw what ‘not a lot’ looks like. There were some houses, some cars but nothing moved (no humans, dogs, cats, birds, foxes or squirrels and only one car that looked like it was passing through like us) – so now we know what 'not a lot' looks like and won't be going back again which I suspect is just what the locals wanted.
And just to finish off with an interesting fact for this week.  There are still  28,000 black and white televisions being regularly used in England.  You still have to buy a licence over here which is how they know.  It is only £48 for a black and white licence but £142.50 for a colour. Colour didn't arrive in England until the late 1960s but if you know where to look you can still buy a black and white one if you want. I could find no statistics on how many monochrome televisions there are in New Zealand except that the first tv arrived in New Zealand in June 1960.  You could watch 3 hours a day if you lived in Auckland and until 1962 if you lived in the South Island - quite surprising since Britain had tv since 1936.  Now a trip down memory lane - do you remember Lassie, I Love Lucy, Danger Man, Perry Mason, Dr Kildare, Wagon Train, Perry Mason and The Flintstones.

Harry got very excited when he found out that the All Whites qualified for the World Cup.