Stratford on Avon

I'm writing this from the churchyard of the Holy Trinity Church, which sits on the banks of the River Avon and is the place where William Shakespere and his family are buried.

I caught the bus out here from Oxford this morning - a task which seemed very complicated on paper but which was actually pretty easy.  English bus drivers seem to be blessed with endless patience and are happy to answer all my crazy questions, point me in the right direction to wherever I'm going and even tell me when the next bus will be coming along.  From Oxford, I changed buses at a village called Chipping Norton and then took another bus to Stratford on Avon, driving past sodden fields of sheep and Cotswold stone cottages.  The rain streamed down, the windows fogged up and I was glad I had pulled out my winter jacket from the bottom of my bag again.

It was still raining when I got off in the town square but it was easing off so I put up my umbrella and walked down to the river.  The sun came out and all the raindrops glistened off the willows along the riverbank and I strolled along comfortably, accompanied by some very hopeful swans and ducks. 

The Holy Trinity church has been a church of some kind since 713 when the Saxons built a monastery there. The present building dates from 1210 and while it isn't as grand as some churches, it's a solid, comfortable place. 

Shakespere's grave is down the side and is throughtfully marked out by a band of blue braid.  People were standing around exclaiming about the grave, but hardly anyone seemed to notice the bust up on the wall to the side of the grave which is his likeness and was made just after his death.

When I left the church I wandered through the graveyard at the back along the river - accompanied by three very hopeful ducks who were convinced I was carrying a stash of bread about my person that they were determined to enjoy as soon as I produced it.

There was a 'modern' rendition of one of Shakespere's plays being held in the park next to the church so I stopped to watch a scene or two before finding a cute little pub next to the river for a pint of Peroni and a burger.  A Robin came and sat on my table, looking for crumbs and kept me company.

I wandered through the town until it started to rain again and then I went into the Shakespere exhibition and the house where he was born.

The house is presented much as it was, but given that the Tudor style homes were pretty bare, it was all a bit dry - you traipse through the five or six rooms and out the door fairly quickly. "Quickest tour I've ever done," remarked an American tourist who was walking behind me.  However the exhibition did have one of the First Folio books on display, which was great to see as I've just finished reading Bill Bryson's book about Shakespere and it discusses it.

I retired to a cafe for the sake of my sore feet to drink tea and eat cake under a low ceilinged tudor teahouse, where I eavesdropped on a woman reading her husband the saucy Spanish phrases her new mobile phone app was teaching her for their holiday.  I wandered through the town while I waited for my return bus and watched hundreds of tourists and Saturday shoppers milling the streets.

After more than 12 hours out and about, I got back to Oxford at 8.30pm and crashed out in bed with a takeaway.

 Church at Stratford.

 Shakespere's bust.

Home where Shakespere was born.

The First Folio.

 

Day around Oxford

It's the last week of the academic year here at Oxford.  This means that the libraries and cafes are full of students swotting for their exams and the hotels are full of families and friends who have come to town for the end of year celebrations.

Tradition is big here in Oxford so often you see a student walking the streets with an academic coat over their clothes.  If they are wearing a carnation in their lapel, you know that they are doing end of year exams and the colour of the carnation indicates what year they are in.  A red carnation means they are doing their finals (item: someone told me yesterday that florists charge 4 pounds per flower!).  

The streets around the exam rooms are littered with confetti, glitter and silly string where final year students have been 'trashed' by their friends when they finish their last exam.

It's Friday today and the last day of exams.  I've been wandering around the southern end of town and all the colleges are setting up for their end of term parties, putting up marquees and tents - I suspect that there will be some big parties here tonight.

One of the difficult things for a tourist in Oxford is that so many places are closed to visitors (understadable but frustrating).  Christ Church is partially open to visitors so I bought a ticket and wandered through the main court and into the dining room and the chapel.  Christ Church is where Charles Dodgson - or Lewis Carroll as he is remembered - studied and taught and wrote the famous Alice in Wonderland stories.

I spent the rest of the day taking in the sights of the town - the covered markets, the Oxford museum, botanical gardens, the Alice shop, the Bodleian Library and the St Mary's Chapel.  You can climb to the top of the tower in St Mary's and while the last 50 steps are painful (high, circular, never ending!) the view from the top is worth it. 

We ended the day at a lovely pub on the Thames river with traditional English fish and chips and mushy peas.

 The dining room in Christ Church.

 Comical stone sculptures.

 

Welcome to Oxford

Welcome to Oxford - a charming university town and academic birthplace of many notable people including Tolkien and Lewis Carroll.

I have friends living here so we spent a glorious day together, exploring some of the surrounding countryside and enjoying the nice weather (there's rain on the way).  

Our first stop for the day was Blenheim Palace. The palace was built by the Duke of Marlborough and is the seat of the Spencer Churchills.  Winston Churchill was famously born here, during a dinner dance.  The grounds are extensive and beautifully kept and after we had seen the displays in the castle, we wandered down to the lake and around the grounds. It's a beautiful place to spend some time.

Our next stop was the village of Wolvercote, which is just down the road.  We went to a lovely pub called the Trout for a drink and sat in the courtyard next to a flowing river, enjoying the sun and watching the antics of a peacock as it paraded around the diners.  We went for a walk along the banks of the river, past a ruined nunnery (item: apparently the residents of the nunnery were not so chaste as they might have been and were known for providing a 'warm' welcome to visiting clergy!) and down to the lock to watch the boats pass through.  

After leaving Wolvercote we drove back to town and picked up the kids and then walked down to Ilffey lock to a pub on the river for drinks.  It was late afternoon and everyone was out enjoying the end of the day.  There were rowers, canoeists and boaters on the river and walkers, joggers and cyclists along the banks.  We enjoyed our drink in the gardens of the pub till the rain came down and then headed back home when we realised that it wasn't going to be letting up any time soon.  We ended up in a super cute pub called the Rusty Bicycle for dinner and more drinks.  What a great day.

Blenheim Palace (above) and the monument in the Palace grounds (below).

 

Path leading up to the Ilffey lock.

Marking time at Paddington

If you have to spend a few hours waiting for a train anywhere, Paddington station has to be one of the best places to do it.

I had a few hours to kill till before my train to Oxford this morning and my luggage was too heavy to drag about too much so I sat on a bench seat and watched the world go by. 

The Glastonbury music festival starts on the weekend and hundreds of bright young things were heading off early to find themselves the perfect spot to pitch their tent.  Based on the people I saw this morning, there is a definate uniform for festival attendance. Skinny jeans or linen shorts, backpack front and back with pillow, tent and rolled mat juggled precariously on top, knee high socks and gumboots. Artfully rolled scarf, blue tinted glasses and floppy black velvet hats are optional extras. 

The station has a unique way of managing their bird problem.   was idly watching pigeon walk akong the floor at my feet when a young man in an orange high visibility vest strode up with a falcon resting on his arm. The pigeon took off pretty quickly so I guess that the falcon is their clever way for keeping the bird problem down.

He came back later and I asked how effective the falcon is on the bird problem. He said it worked better when he could release the bird but even seeing it sent the pigeons away. He said that he spent four hours a day at Paddington three days a week but that he also visited other stations around London.

Marking time at Paddington

If you have to spend a few hours waiting for a train anywhere, Paddington station has to be one of the best places to do it.

I had a few hours to kill till before my train to Oxford this morning and my luggage was too heavy to drag about so I sat on a bench seat and watched the world go by. 

The Glastonbury music festival starts on the weekend and hundreds of bright young things were heading off early to find themselves the perfect spot to pitch their tent.  Based on the people I saw this morning, there is a definite uniform for festival attendance. Skinny jeans or linen shorts, backpack front and back with pillow, tent and rolled mat juggled precariously on top.  Knee high socks and gumboots. Artfully rolled scarf, blue tinted glasses and floppy black velvet hats are optional extras. 

The station has a unique way of managing London's ever present pigeon problem. I was idly watching a bird walk along the floor at my feet when a young man in an orange high visibility vest strode up with a falcon resting on his arm. The pigeon took off pretty quickly so I guess that the falcon is their clever way for keeping the bird problem down.

The guy came back later and I asked how effective the falcon is on the bird problem. He said it worked better when he could release the bird (the mind boggles) but even the sight of it sent the pigeons away. He said that he spent four hours a day at Paddington three days a week but that he also visited other stations around London. I wonder how he describes his job on his passport - Pigeon scarer?  Falcon carrier?  Some people do amazing jobs.

Last London day

Last day in London today so I headed into town to visit a few favourite places.

First stop was Trafalgar Square and a visit to the National Gallery.  The Gallery is huge, and without significant effort and dedication it's not possible to see the whole thing in one sitting, so I drop in from time to time to visit different areas.  My room choices this visit were mainly dictated by ones that allowed me to avoid shrill groups of primary school children and their teachers, with their constant calls of "shhhhhh now", "Wilbur, don't let go of Mavis' hand" and "One more outburst and you are all going back to the bus." All threats are completely useless and actually more irritating than the noise of excited children enjoying a day away from their classrooms.

Then I popped next door to the Portrait Gallery and wandered through my favourite wing - the Tudor period - and watched still more school children sitting on the floor beneath portraits of King Henry XIII and Queen Elizabeth and making their own copies of the priceless masterpieces.  Some of them were very imaginative!

It was lunchtime by the time I came out so I went across the road to the St Martin in the Fields church to have lunch in the crypt downstairs.  I'd read that the lunch there is something not to be missed and now I know what people were talking about.  For a very reasonable sum I got a chicken, leek and mushroom pie with vegetables and a mint and chocolate chip ice cream.  

St Martins in the Field is renowned for its support of the homeless and its musical performances.  A pianist was preparing for a concert when I walked through the church and I sat and listened for awhile. The notes danced around the columns and up into the ceiling. It was serene and beautiful.

Next I walked up to Covent Garden to watch the various street performers and browse the shoe shops (for some reason they have a lot of fabulous shoe shops in CG!). 

All this walking wasn't helping my blisters any so I refulled with a coffee - and then kept going.  London is like that though - you keep planning to stop because your feet are threatenning to fall off but then you realise you are just down the road from Piccadilly Circus and off you go again.

I finished the day lying under a tree in Kensington Gardens and watching children playing, couples snuggling and joggers...... being irritating and fit. Then I walked down the high street to pick up Chinese roast duck and stir fried vegetables for dinner, Thanks London, it's been fun.

I heart Mummies

It's been a quieter day in London today. I woke up tired, with the languid weariness that no amount of coffee could erase so I decided on an easy day and took coffee and my kindle to Kensington Gardens to soak up some sun and chill out.

Once I had worked up a bit more energy I caught the tube to the British Museum.  The museum has one of the best displays of Egyptian artifacts outside Cairo and I wasn't disappointed. There are two floors of displays from Egypt alone and some of the pieces were just amazing.  

They also have the famed Rossetti stone - the artifact that helped archeologists decipher Egyptian hieroglyphs that had been a mystery for thousands of years.  The stone shows part of a proclamation that was written in 196 BCE in Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, Demotic script and Ancient Greek and is the museum's most famous display.

  

There was also a special exhibition of eight different wrapped mummies. Each one had been CT scanned and the scans allowed researchers to look beyond the wrappings and share pictures about the age, physical condition and burial rites of the mummies. Each one had an interactive display and you could watch the scans yourself. They also had displays of jewellery and artefacts from the tombs - so interesting!

Finished the day with a walk around Picadally Circus and a visit to Whole Foods to buy some of my favourite yoghurt. Think I'll have an early night.

 The Rosetti stone

Whoops!

Sometimes I am so blonde I surprise even myself.

One of the few things I had planned to do while in London was to visit the Notting Hill markets. I wanted to pick up a duplicate scarf to one I had bought last year for a friend, so I'd deliberately planned my visit over a weekend. 

This morning I jumped on the tube to Notting Hill and began walking in the direction of the markets. Somewhere along the way I took a wrong turn and ended up in the middle of unfamiliar territory so I asked a pedestrian which direction I should take. She gave perfect directions but also said that markets were on Saturday not Sunday - whoops! 

After I got back to the right place, I wandered down the main street feeling quite defeated and looking for a place for breakfast. There were half a dozen stallholders setting up in the space where 50 or so stalls would have been yesterday. I was cursing my stupidity and not really looking at them when something caught my eye and I realised I was standing in front of the scarf seller I had come to find!

I was his first customer of the day and he was so happy to hear that I had come out just to find him that he gave me a really good discount - score!

All in all, it worked out perfectly and I got what I needed, avoided the crowds and ended it all with a full English breakfast in a local cafe. 

It's hot!

I hear that Eastern Australia is in the midst of a big cold snap and while I'm not sorry to be missing it, I wish it were a little cooler here. 

Last year I came to Europe in the middle of the coldest spring they had experienced for 50 years. For six of the seven weeks I was here it was cold - cold enough for me to wear warm scarves, boots and multiple layers. 

This year the weather is back to normal and it's a little later in the season. And it's hot!

At home I set the air conditioner to 24 degrees to cool down. Here the temperature has yet to get above 25 but it feels more like 30+. While there is no humidity, you get warm as soon as you move and the buses (where windows can't be opened) and tube trains are hot and airless. Buildings designed to stay warm trap the heat and it lingers long after the temperature has dropped to 12 or 13. 

My ugly but practical hiking sandals have not been off my feet (unfortunately giving me a massive blister) and my warm jacket is packed in the bottom of my suitcase - I'm thinking that I won't need it again till I fly home.  

But on the plus side, the sky is blue, the breezes (when they blow) are delicious and there are plenty of legitimate excuses for ice cream consumption.

Other than Ireland, this is probably the coolest place I am going to visit so I suspect the next few weeks are going to get interesting!

Scotch eggs and Strawberries

I woke up hungry.

Given the marathon journey it takes to get to Europe, the flights went well and there was even a spare seat between me and another traveller on the Singapore - London leg. Singapore Airlines came up trumps on good food and great in-flight entertainment and everything ran on time. I landed in London just after 7pm to a balmy 22 degree evening that was as light and bright as 2 or 3pm at home. 

I cruised through customs and after a train ride and short taxi journey I was at my hotel and diving into bed for some much needed shut eye.

But now it was Saturday morning and I was hungry for breakfast and a chance to stretch my legs so I caught the tube to London Bidge to visit the Borough markets. 

The Borough markets are a haven for foodies everywhere and specialise in quality cuisine. It was after 9am by the time I arrived so first stop was coffee and breakfast. I bought my first ever Scotch Egg and I have to say, it was magnificent. A Scotch egg is a hard boiled egg (with a slightly soft centre) wrapped in flavoured sausage meat and crumbed. I don't know if this was indicative of all SEs, but served on a rocket salad with some sweet potato fries, it was heavenly.  I finished up with some fresh blueberries from a fruit stall.

Jetlag started to hit as soon as I ate, so after a wander around the cheese, bread, fruit and cake stalls, I set off to the waterfront and walked along the south bank.  When I got to the Tower Bridge, I bought a ticket for the top and walked along one span of the bridge and admired the view.  The bridge was opening for a boat as I cane out so I watched it go through before crossing to the other side and setting off to walk west along the entire city of London towards Westmister. 

It was a hot and sunny day, but the walking was easy and interesting and I had a punnet of strawberries to keep me going.  At one point I found a way down to the beach and was able to walk along the banks of the Thames, looking at all the interesting things washed up by the tide - a bucket list item! I found some shards of pottery that I'm telling myself are from a Victorian house, an old nail that obviously came from a house burnt down in the great fires of 1666 and a piece of flint that was shaped by cave men (and not the tides).  What great fun!

My ugly but practical hiking sandles had their first big workout and execpt for a blister on my heel, they are wearing well.  Pretty good for a four hour walk!

Crawled back to my room for a well earned nap and let the jet lag take over.  

Time for a new adventure

Well the bags have been packed, unpacked and repacked again. I've debated the merits of cargo pants against jeans and tried to guess which shirts will take me from heat in the south of France to the colds of Northern Ireland. In truth, you can't pack for every eventuality and I know this well. But I like to put all my stress and worry into planning my trip and once I get on the plane I just take things as they come and deal with things as they happen. 

Right or wrong choices, this is it for the next six weeks - unless a little shopping finds it's way into my bag!

Time to relax with a glass of wine and the latest Janet Evanovich.

Tales of the everyday

On this day in 1942, a girl called Anne Frank received a diary for her 13th birthday.

That diary captured her thoughts, hopes and wishes through the years that she and her family hid from the Germans and left a lasting legacy for readers around the world about a period of our history we can't ever forget.

But it wasn't just a record of the times.  The most appealing things about the diary are the little moments of the everyday and the glimpses into a teenager's head as her body and mind begin to prepare for adulthood. 

In her wildest dreams, I can't imagine that Anne ever thought that her diary would be such an enduring legacy of a teenage girl's life - but perhaps that's the reason why it is still so popular today.  The simple tales of day to day life in unusual circumstances, and the hopes and dreams of a girl on the verge of womanhood are the tales of humanity that speak to us on a very personal level.

From Samuel Pepys to Helene Hanf - and even the fictional Bridget Jones - diaries, journals, letters,  and blogs provide us with a glimpse into the everyday world of people we may never know or meet - but can still connect with.  

Time out in Byron

If you ever need to take a break from the stresses of the world, I can recommend Byron Bay. 

I'm sure the locals experience the same stresses as everyone else in the world, but as a visitor it's a place to catch your breath, shift down a few gears and just b-r-e-a-t-h-e.

The world was getting a bit on top of me this week, so I drove down by myself and booked a night at one of the local motels.  Mid-week and off season, the traffic was light and the pace was slower. I arrived at lunchtime and stopped in town to pick up an organic vegetarian vegetable and polenta bake (hey, it is Byron after all) and then headed out to Wategos Beach for some peace and quiet. 

It was a still day with hardly any wind and the sea was flat and glassy.  The waves were idly crashing close to the shore and it was serene and peaceful. I sat at a picnic table to eat my lunch and watched the family in front of me enjoying their day at the beach.  One of the little boys got something stuck in his foot and came back to his mum so she could get it out.  Whatever it was, it was very hard to get at and it took her ages to find.  The poor little chap was sitting and crying quietly while she worked and within minutes, his whole family had come back to the spot to support him.  His big brother patted him on the head, his baby sister watched on, and his father sat down next to him and just gently took his hand.  I was fascinated by the father's comfort.  He didn't tell him not to cry or smother him in hugs. He just sat very gently and held his hand.  I felt comforted just watching and I am sure the little boy felt it too.  I'd never seen anything like it but I was really moved by his strength and genuine love and concern for his son.

After lunch I moved closer to the beach and sat on a rock to watch the waves crash on the shore.   It was the most peaceful I've felt in weeks and I stayed for over an hour, just sitting and watching - it was so nice to be still and a little more at peace. 

Julian Rocks

View from the top of the lighthouse.

I took a quick trip up to the lighthouse and enjoyed the view from the top of the hill.  On such a still day you could see for miles and I saw two whales off in the distance, hurrying north to breed.  The lighthouse was open and some volunteers were running a tour of the tower so I joined in.  In all the years I've been going to Byron, I never knew you could do a tour and it was interesting to hear about the history of the lighthouse.  The view from the top (and it's only 18 meters high) is another fabulous perspective of the area.

The highlight of the day was - as always - the sunset at Main Beach.  Each night, people gather there to sit and watch the sunset symphony to the accompaniment of the local drummers who play to the sun as it sinks slowly below the horizon behind Mt Warning. 

The surfers hung out around the wreck waiting for a wave, but everyone else watched the colours grow from apricot and peach to burnt sienna and then fade into lavender.  Then the stars came out, the lighthouse started its nightly flash across the sky and the show was done for another day.