Hampton Court and Brighton

An eventful week so here goes. We went to West Side Story the musical based on Romeo and Juliet except this time the woman doesn't die and lives a tormented and lonely life in a foreign country wishing all the time that she was back in her native country with the man she loved, or alternatively she just might find someone else to commit to 'in sickness and in health' - who knows. Its set in New York in the mid 50's and has some great songs about love and conflict. I've been singing 'I want to be in America' all week but I won't tell Harry or he will start whistling it and it will be on my mind for many more days to come. Anyway, I rather like the words of one of the songs which is just as well known as the others...
'There's a place for us
Somewhere a place for us.
Peace and quiet and open air,
Wait for us
Somewhere.
There's a time for us,
Some day a time for us,
Time together with time spare,
Time to learn, time to care,
Some day!
There's a place for us,
A time and place for us.
Hold my hand and we're halfway there.
Hold my hand and I'll take you there,
Somehow, Some day, Somewhere! '
On Saturday morning we headed for Hampton Court and the flower show. Having bought an afternoon ticket to the show we thought we would spend the morning visiting the 'most haunted place in England' - yes Hampton Court Palace. We went armed with cameras hoping to do a bit of ghost spotting but we had no luck in that endeavour - when the ghost is around he opens and closes doors, sets off fire alarms. He has even had his photo taken - the ghost they think of Henry VIII. So, thanks to the CCTV cameras and google here is a photo of the ghost we missed saying hello to. If that is really him - and I have no doubt - it just goes to show ghosts don't eat much - the photo was taken in 2003, so I guess Henry has had a good 500 years to diet. To give this story some credibility some Australian tourists also claim to have seen the ghost near the exhibition area (does the saying 'yeah right' come to mind?).

So, feeling a bit deprived that I could not shake the hand of someone who lived a full and exciting life in the 1500's I did a bit of research instead. Apparently Halloween when the ghost was seen 'is the time of the year when the veil between this world and the other world is at its thinnest'. Some people made the following comments - rather unkind I think but with more than an element of truth if the history books are anything to go by ...
“He was a very vain man who thought nothing of changing religions to suit his own purposes and killing people who got in his way"
“Many believe that when somebody has led a tortured life, full of anger and hurt, the soul of that person will haunt a place where he spent most of his time".
“I think this was a case of him dropping in from the other world to have a look around and that he wanted to be seen. He’ll be revelling in all the publicity.”
Anyway, not only does Henry visit the palace but on occasion so do at least some of his wives and their servants. There is the ghost of

• Catherine Howard - the most haunting ghost - Henry wanted to get rid of her so charged her with adultery in 1541 and placed her under house arrest. Silly girl, broke free but was caught again and so to get rid of her ... chop...and now they're together again - ghost sharing the palace.
• Jane Seymour was Henry's third wife (we really are beginning to learn royal history while we stay here) and died in childbirth in 1537 - she occasionally walks around the cobbled courtyard carrying a lighted taper - that feels a bit sad to me.
• The lady in grey - Sibell Penn - she nursed Prince Edward when Jane died. Sibell died in 1562 and was buried in the nearby Hampton Church. When the church was demolished in 1829 her remains were disturbed and it is said she returned to the rooms she once lived in.

As you can probably pick we were disappointed we didn't see a ghost. (A work mate had suggested that if I met Henry I should ask him why he closed down all the monasteries. I wondered if he had a hidden agenda of trying to get rid of another All Black supporter). Anyway, the palace did have a bit of an eerie atmosphere about it - owing I think to being almost devoid of furniture and the extensive and opulent trimmings that usually go with a royal residence - but there were some huge tapestries and a chapel. When visiting the gardens I found out the real reason why the ghosts were in hiding. There in the garden seated listening to the Twyford Church of England High School (winners of the BBC's Songs Of Praise School Choir of the Year competition in 2009 and very good by my standards as well) was Sir Desmond Tutu and his wife Leah. They were there not only to listen to the singers but also because roses named after themselves, and the garden of peace named in their honour, were being unveiled this weekend. The Desmond Tutu rose according a rose enthusiastic is a 'classic, slender, pointed Hybrid Tea style buds which open to magenta red flowers, with white streaks on the backs. It was noticeable how little the colour faded once the flowers opened. The flowers, carried in generous clusters, mature into a rather rounded ball-like shape' with a 'discreet' scent. And the same expert on Leah's rose said 'pale golden buds set against bright green foliage open to flat, multi-petaled flowers in pale gold shading to old brassy gold within when the flowers are at their peak. Again, the fragrance is less than stupendous but in this case the flowers are exquisite so perhaps the lack of fragrance can be overlooked'.

Anyway, as I like quotes here are some from the man himself.

“When the missionaries came to Africa they had the Bible and we had the land. They said, 'Let us pray.' We closed our eyes. When we opened them we had the Bible and they had the land.”

“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”

“You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them.”

So, after a picnic in the car park (which started out in sunshine and ended in a shower) we wandered off for another 4 hours on our feet visiting the flower show. From the start it was an afternoon of 'the clash of the umbrellas', 'watch those plastic trolleys pulled by enthusiastic gardeners', and 'try to get as few people as possible in the photos'. During the week we had sat down to watch two programmes on the flower show and were quite pleased we had. It was pretty difficult to spend time contemplating the 'conceptual meaning' of flower beds in the rain while vying for a position in the crowds. I must admit by the end of it we concluded that we had enjoyed walks around some English gardens more. There was music, exhibitors, lots of things to buy and plants for sale (I could just imagine being a gardener and saying to visitors 'I bought that sunflower at the flower show in 2007' etc etc, and some pretty quirky and fun exhibits (eg a desert designed by a 16 year old, a Thai garden, Monstruosa (one of my favourites - it is an extraterrestrial visitor designed to propagate its own species and I think to eventually take over the world), some allotments, a wilderness garden, some metallic bits and pieces, a clothes line garden (where plants were growing happily in 'Y' fronts and coloured bras - due to their conical shape they are excellent for turning into hanging baskets I read) plus a garden designed for each of the wives of Henry (but not one for him interestingly enough) - there's lots of quotes in this bit cos I can't remember seeing all the features due to the umbrellas and the crowds. There's also a saying 'Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived' - a way to remember the wives if you feel so inclined...

• Katherine of Aragon garden - was very pretty with lots of 'oak' intermingled between flowers and pictures of the Queen. Male and female trees standing in small coffins represented the children she lost and a pomegranate tree which is the emblem of the Aragon family. The flowers were mainly yellow which is the colour people wore when she died.
• Anne Boleyn - the garden was a mass of flowers and peacock feathers and apparently explored whether she was actually a witch, adulterous or actually just plain cunning - not sure what the conclusion was but I suspect Henry thought at least the former two.
• Jane Seymour - she was the calm and serene wife and the garden represented her faithfulness and obedience - there was lots of white, was quite well organised like her personality (she used to specify the exact underwear her ladies-in-waiting could wear). Her motto ‘Bound to Obey and Serve’ was carved into the oak gazebo in the garden.
• Anne of Cleves - it was quite a simple Tudor knot garden which reflected her outlook on life (I have read a book on her history and it is quite fascinating).
• Katherine Howard - it had a neat bed made of thyme with those soft mauve flowers and I just wanted to jump on it and go to sleep.
  
• Kateryn Parr - its a garden about her strong religious beliefs - each plant in it has Mary in its name somewhere eg verbascum was traditionally known as “Mary’s pigtail”.

We were rather tired after that and slept soundly in a not very nice 'inn' nearby. And so, well rested but not well fed, we left for Brighton. I hadn't done alot of research and fully expected another 'Blackpool' ie we pictured a pier - with all its stalls and rides, a beach - and that is as far as our imagination went. Brighton is nothing like that and is actually a real little gem on the south coast of England - and well worth a visit. It used to be called Brighthelmstone when it was a small fishing town before it was discovered by Londoners (for the therapeutic effects of bathing in and drinking sea water) and George Prince Regent. He was the first child of George III and Queen Charlotte (one of 15) and when George III was declared insane George IV became Prince Regent for quite a few years. He came to Brighton and built (well ordered others actually such as John Nash) to remodel the farm house and build a pavillion (it looks like a huge mosque from the outside) but is a building, unique in character for England and modelled on the many books and pictures of Indian and Chinese architecture that John Nash must have seen at the time. Inside were large, colourful rooms, well but not overly decorated, wooden stairways carved to look like bamboo and great chandeliers (one weighed a ton and was 30 foot long). However, it is costing a bit to maintain as the Brighton-Hove city council (the owners) know, it started to leak early on in its life which has caused dry rot - a huge restoration programme began in 1982 and it is still going on. We were very impressed and have added it to our WOW list and even bought a book (which we don't often because we would have too many to bring back home). So, here is our WOW list now...

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.

    

But that's not all in Brighton - there are the little shopping lanes - it was described in 1826 as 'Brighton is a town of few manufacturers, but the retail trade is considerable” where they now a days, do brunch and sip coffee and beer in the sunshine all day. And there is the lovely old houses, built mainly in the Regency period many of them across the promenade with magnificent sea views. There is also the two piers - one which is now a mess of iron slowly decaying in the wild sea (that's the West Pier which opened in 1866 and was the first pier to be listed as a Grade I historical place and was burnt down in 2003) and the one that we walked along (built in 1891 with lots of stalls, food stalls and theme park activities - all that we have begun to expect in a pier). In 2000, the sign with Brighton Pier was erected but the National Piers Society (didn't know there was one but I guess there is a society for most things) and many locals still call it the Palace Pier. Along some of the water front is the first public electric railway built in the world, opened by an enthusiastic electrician in 1883 called Magnus Volk. It doesn't travel far, only about 1.25 miles but it was quite fun riding along the beach front, with the pebbly beach on one side and the Regency buildings and little shops built under the eaves of the retaining walls on the other.

Brighton also has long cycle paths (remember to look both ways when walking from the footpath to the car), heaps of beach huts and deck chairs on the beach (even in the fairly windy conditions on Sunday). I read somewhere that there are 3000 for hire in Brighton. They were invented and patented by an Englishman in 1886 John Thomas Moore. They were first built for using on paddle steamers - hence the name deck chair - and soon after being seen on boats they became popular on promenades, piers and beaches up and down the country (before that the beach goers had to pay 1p to sit on a wooden bench). They have been popular ever since on beaches and also on boats like the Titanic. However recently it has come to the attention of the NHS that foreigners just do not know who to put up, adjust, and fold away the deck chair - a number of tourists visiting hospitals and doctors to have that sliced or bruised finger cared for. Doctors confirmed that 'injuries sustained in the setting-up and use of deck chairs were more likely to involve foreign tourists who may be less familiar with the traditional wooden folding deckchair'. Watch out kiwis - there are other menaces on the beach besides blue bottles. I was amused to find this statement on the web by Ray and Raquel, 2 Kiwi tourists...

"After walking down St James Street and heading left towards the pier, you come across the beach. This was our first view of what we had expected to see; two stripey deck chairs facing seaward, very typically English! It is the impression which a lot of foreigners have when you think of the English seaside - stripey deckchairs. The thing about it which struck us in particular was that it was very cold and no one was sitting on them."

I couldn't have said it better myself and so didn't try. Given the weather and the empty chairs you sort of get a deeper insight into the saying 'don't rearrange the deck chairs'.And after all that thinking about deck chairs we headed back to Bristol - took quite a while - because we found a game of polo on the way - it was on our list of things we wanted to do - so we couldn't resist sitting in the sun for 30 minutes to watch a game - while a marquis and portable loos were being put up for the Veuve Clicquot Gold Cup next week. The game was a close one between two teams battling for superiority and the commentator made us laugh and reminded us of Peter Montgomery when he commentated the America's Cup won by New Zealand - there were terms like 'they're even stevens', 'the chips are in the pan', 'he is to polo what Cassius Clay is to boxing' all said in a screetchy very excitable voice. Now to the history of a fascinating, fast and furious game where the riders need to be skilled in 'eye and hand co-ordination and horse riding' and the horses seem to get a kick out of going for that little white ball. It is thought to have originated in China and Persia around 2,000 years ago with the first game recorded between the Turkomans and Persians (the Turkomans won). In the 1850s, British tea planters discovered the game in Manipur (Munipoor) on the Burmese border with India and founded the world’s first polo club. But, it was John Watson (1856-1908), of the 13th Hussars, who made the first real rules of the game in India in the 1870s (I find it hard to picture the game without rules).Today, more than 77 countries play polo. It was an Olympic sport from 1900 to 1939 and has now been recognised again by the International Olympic Committee.

and for a bit of light hearted relief. Reasons not to mess with children.

A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales.
The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human
because even though it was a very large mammal, its throat was very small.
The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.
Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.
The little girl said, "When I get to heaven, I will ask Jonah."
The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?"
The little girl replied, "Then you ask him."

A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work. As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was. The girl replied, "I'm drawing God." The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks like.." Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, "They will in a minute."

The children had all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to persuade them each to buy a copy of the group picture. "Just think how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown up and say, 'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or 'That's Michael, He's a doctor'." A small voice at the back of the room rang out, "And there's the teacher, she's dead."

A teacher was giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood. Trying to make the matter clearer, she said,
"Now, class, if I stood on my head, the blood, as you know, would run into it, and I would turn red in the face."
"Yes," the class said.
"Then why is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position, the blood doesn't run into my feet?"
A little fellow shouted,
"Cause your feet ain't empty."

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.