Gertsamtkunstwerk

An evening in our Cotswolds hotel

A startling difference between my partner and me is our attitude to activities such as eating out, especially when we're away. I want to try as many different places as possible, he seems to establish a comfort zone and return to places he knows he can trust.

After we had driven round several counties we returned to our hotel, the King's Head in Bledington. We sat outside the pub for a quiet drink, and were shaken out of our reverie by the sound of the resident bantams sounding flustered. They appeared at speed round the corner pursued by a dog - on a lead, as per the sign outside the pub - and a man who was egging the dog on and was clearly highly amused at this hilarious entertainment. He looked at us to share the joke. I think the contempt must have shown on his face, for he suddenly reined the dog in and scuttled off - to talk to the children on the swings on the village green. Children scampered back to where their parents were sitting drinking outside the pub. It seemed that none of the children was his.

We decided to lay down for a rest but were disturbed by the sound of the evening's live singer practising. To be honest, I didn't think much of him, and I pondered the extent to which you can reasonably expect a residential pub to be reasonably quiet in the later afternoon. I came to no conclusion.

As it turned out, the pub singer was quite decent once ensconced in the bar, and we later spent a good hour or two enjoying the set, mainly of 60s and 70s classics that everyone knows, and quite a few drinks, knowing we only had to stumble up the stairs to bed.

We also enjoyed a pleasant meal in the hotel restaurant. I started with a seafood salad.

I followed this with  fish and chips.

I call this photo 'Waiting for chips'. I don't think I've ever been served fish and chips with the chips served as a side dish, and when they came I was disappointed that they were American-style fries, not proper chips. But, in fairness as thin fries go, they were amongst the best I've tasted.

I finished with a Crème brûlée, which was good without being a showstopper. 

I reflected that I really couldn't complain about the food, but the second time of eating in a place in a short time is never quite as delightful as the first. You've generally chosen your most favourite dish on the first day, and few restaurants alter their menus radically from day to day, although in my experience they've usually removed the dish that you almost ordered on the first night. But it was still very nice, and so convenient, and there was a really good atmosphere in the bar.

See also First day in the Cotswolds

A walk around Olympic Park

This post is more than a year out of date but I still think it's worth capturing what was a very memorable day out.

We didn't book tickets for the Olympics. A whole host of reasons and I don't particularly regret not doing so. I watched so much on TV, and bitten by curiosity, we did book tickets to the Paralympics. We left it late, so there was limited availability for our chosen day. We booked tickets for the semi-final of the Seven Aside football, at the Riverbank Arena, which hosted the hockey during the Olympics. This gave us access to Olympic Park for the day, and, if we had wished, we could have chosen to queue for admission to some of the other venues. 

Our match was in the afternoon so we arrived mid-morning. Transport to the site was uncomplicated - we travelled in comfort on the 'Jubilympic' line. There were two people in my carriage in wheelchairs, a novel and welcome sight on London Underground.

Access to the stadium was straightforward, pleasantly handled by a chap from the RAF. We were made to throw away the water in our (Olympic branded) water bottles, but even that wasn't a problem - plenty of places to get free drinking water and short or non-existent queues. It was a hot day and we did a lot of walking; water was much needed!

I could write in painstaking detail of all the different sights we saw, but I'm not sure that would add anything to human knowledge above the copious amounts that have already been written about London's Olympic Park.

What struck me most was the amount of space. I had visions of shuffling uncomfortably in crowds all day but that didn't happen. It was very quiet when we first arrived, most people being in events, especially in the 80,000-capacity Athletics stadium and the 17,500-capacity Aquatics Centre. We wandered freely around the park, going up to almost the Northern reaches, looking at the various venues, and spending some time in the wetlands. I was impressed by how the land was managed, not just sports venues amidst concrete, but lots of gardens. The park had been planted with wildflowers. Up until then I hadn't given much thought to wildflowers, but since then I have noticed more and more areas being planted or left for wildflowers to flourish. (I know there is a question about whether 'wild' flowers can be 'planted' but I think we all know what we mean by 'wildflowers').

We watched the 7-a-side football match between Russia and Brazil. Seven-a-side is for players with cerebral palsy. Unfortunately, the Paralympics included football as a sport for men only; indeed, there seemed to be more gender imbalance in the Paralympics than the Olympics, but I realise that achieving gender equality in addition to fighting for Paralympic rights, especially in non-developed countries, is a significant challenge. Russia won convincingly, it was a little bit like men versus boys, and I was not surprised when they went on to win the Gold Medal. It was a moderately entertaining football match, and I didn't really notice that the players were disabled. But, to be honest, apart from being in the arena, it was the least memorable part of the day. And just for good measure I was sat next to a very annoying brat who honestly thought he knew everything about football, and he kicked me several times.

         

The Park was a lot more crowded when we emerged from the match. People who had been to morning events stayed on, afternoon events were finishing, and tens of thousands were arriving for evening events. We queued quite a while for fish and chips, but they were worth the wait. We did try to find somewhere to sit in the Park Live area, but that was just full up, so we found a place down by the river, ate our fish-and-chips, and watched the world go by.

We spent the early evening strolling through the southern end of the park. I was just finishing a period of sick leave and was really intensely shattered and utterly footsore. I don't think I could have walked any more. Walking into Stratford Station, a member of staff approached the man behind me to tell him not to carry his child on his shoulders in case he fell down the steps. Now, I would have thought that the man was quite capable of knowing how to carry what was presumably his own child, and was quite emotionally invested in not falling. I thought it quite rude of the LU man to shout at this man over my head, as if I didn't exist, and, also, it was really painful for me to detour and walk round him. It was also extremely painful changing trains at London Bridge. But all the pain was worth it, and I got home, and I recovered soon enough.

 More photos of this walk, and the day the Olympic Torch came to Brixton can be seen in the photo album London 2012

August garden

Just trawling through my photos I found these taken in my back garden last year. Oddly, I didn't take any in the garden this August. I think I had this idea once that I should take photos at least once a month just to see how the garden changes from season to seaon but also as it gets worked on. Not by me, I hasten to add! I don't think that after the Autumnal Equinox is the best time to revive that semi-resolution, but, nevertheless, it's as good a time as any to record the changing seasons!

 

Back from Cornwall

I have spent the last two weeks in Cornwall and had a jolly good time. I had hoped that somehow, we would enjoy an Indian Summer, with plenty of opportunity for sea swimming. It was not to be. On the other hand, most days were warm enough and fine, with plenty enough sunshine. This made walking a pleasure, and to my surprise, I did a great deal more walking than I feared would have been possible. 

We stayed in the ancient town of Marazion, just a couple of miles from Penzance, and just opposite St Michael's Mount. We were brilliantly located, with a sea view. The town is big enough to sustain several shops and eating places, and a surprisingly good bus service, but small enough to have some character. There was a Morrison's less than two miles away, and a Sainsbury's being built just next door to that, and we were within easy driving distance of Sainsbury's at Helston and Marks & Spencer at Hayle.

We rented a flat which was spacious and light. When we arrived it was scrupulously spotlessly clean. There was sufficient furniture and the beds were wonderfully comfortable. The sofa less so. Having stayed in several similar rented places in the UK and Spain I did feel there were certain aspects that were less satisfactory. All of them quite petty, but the pettiness added up to an annoyance. Two lightbulbs, including the kitchen one, had gone before our arrival, as we discovered mid-evening Saturday in the dark. There were no spare lightbulbs in the place, something I have always noticed with previous places. The kitchen was poorly stocked lacking some of the most basic utensils, such as wooden spoons. Bear in mind that this was a two-bedroomed place seemingly ideal for a couple with two small children, whose holiday may depend on being able to make simple stews, pasta sauces etc. The saucepans all lacked lids, there were no storage pots eg for teabags or bread. Worst of all, the oven on the cooker didn't work. There was a combination microwave/fan oven instead, although we had to work this out for ourselves, and it was simply not big enough for cooking a casserole for 4 or roasting a joint, as many people might wish to do. There wasn't even a welcome pack. Most places include a list of hints and tips eg the WiFi password, 'the oven doesn't actually work' and maybe even numbers for local doctor, bus timetables etc. It was advertised as having reserved parking, but in practice during the day this was used by the owner's other business. Not a problem in practice, but communication/information would have helped. It was also slightly irritating that the washing machine wasn't a washer/dryer, considering it was a flat without a garden, which wasn't too great an inconvenience for us, but might have been a pain for the family with two small children. Admittedly, all petty moans, and we certainly didn't let them mar the holiday.

The town is lovely, and it was enormous fun people-watching. They came in their hundreds and thousands to cross the causeway, or catch the boat, to St Michael's Mount. It also lies along the South West Coastal Path, a truly wonderful thing, a jewel in England's crown. During our first week our neighbours never took their car out and were usually out early, often coming back late. If you're a keen, fit walker, I think with careful planning and bus timetables, you could cover a great deal of the path, returning each night to comfortable quarters.

Sadly, Cornwall County Council are consulting on withdrawing funding for much of the Rural bus service in West Cornwall. This was covered on the local TV news and it made me angry and sad. They illustrated how the buses, often visiting quite remote and isolated villages, are a lifeline for elderly people to get out to shops and doctors etc, for local workers, often on minimum wage or in seasonal jobs. They had a voxpox with someone on holiday in St Ives who said she chose St Ives because she could go walking and end the day with a bus journey. The local constituency is Liberal Democrat held, and Council is LibDem/Independent coalition. I doubt that many of those Liberal Democrat or Independent voters would have supported axing rural bus services.

I still have nearly 200 photos to edit from the holiday, having already processed over  300 (and that's not including the duds and duplicates!). Over the next few weeks I intend to compose several blog posts on the subject, and these will be varied with posts about days out, and other holidays as well. I just hope I have the time to do them justice!

Cycling in Sussex

Last year, there was a very hot Saturday. I know, it seems difficult to recall now. We had the truly inspired idea of heading to the South Coast. We arrived at Clapham Junction and sauntered over to the platform from where depart trains for Brighton and other seaside towns in Sussex. We were not heading for Brighton, suspecting it would be quite busy.

The platform at Clapham Junction was heaving. The Brighton train was in, but the station staff were preventing anyone else joining it due to overcrowding. They were advising people to go to Hove and then get a train back to Brighton. My heart sunk; we were aiming for the "not Brighton" train, via Hove. Not only were there a lot of people on the platform, but many of them had pushchairs. Even more had bikes.

We got on the train and it was pretty crowded. As the line approaches Brighton, it runs close to the A23 (Roman Road from Westminster Bridge, passing near my house and eventually becoming Brighton Pier). I looked out of the window and saw a queue of cars waiting to enter Brighton. 

We alighted at Shoreham-by-Sea. For years, I have been convinced I walked once from Hove to Shoreham, but I think it must have been Portslade. Not so impressive!

You could argue that Shoreham isn't actually on sea, although you'd come over as being a bit of a prat if you dug your heels in

 

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We walked down through town and crossed the River Adur to reach the actual seaside, and then we cycled to Worthing. It is without doubt a delightful cycle ride. As far as I know you can cycle all the way from Brighton, and perhaps east of Brighton to Worthing, along the coast, on dedicated cycle paths all the way.

I would observe that the public needs a tad more education about what a cycle path is. I speak both as a pedestrian and a cyclist. Firstly, there is no law or rule that prohibits people walking on the cycle path. However, should you choose to do so, you need to be aware that you may encounter cyclists. It's rude to shout abuse at them for cycling on the cycle path and ringing their bell to warn you of their presence. This particularly applies when you're walking five abreast and not actually looking where you're going. Also, it's rude to stop and chat with your mates on a cycle path when there is, as it happens, a wide pavement wide enough to drive a bus along.

Also, dog owners. You are responsible for looking after your dog. If the said dogs run out from behind a fence on a beach onto a cycle path and the cyclist screeches to a sudden halt and yells obscene words at you, please consider that the cyclist is probably very shaken, and really doesn't want to be told to take more care and the dogs were 'only playing'. The cyclist did take care; otherwise your dogs would have been 'only dying'.

I also have a lecture for cyclists. Especially unfit middle-aged cyclists with a chronic health condition. Cycling takes energy. It might make sense to take some tuna or hummus sandwiches to replenish the carbo and protein required. If half of London is on the beach in Sussex, this suggests the weather is hot. More water would be sensible.

Oh, and if part of your biography consists of 'I like take photographs', stop cycling more often and take more and more interesting photos.I salvaged three in total from the day.

This is one of my favourite crap photos of all time. Lancing College  is situated on a hill which is part of the South Downs, and the campus dominates the local landscape.

Yeah, right whatever!

Shoreham is fun, and I'd like to return. There's an airport there, indeed it's the oldest airport in the UK. According to Wikipedia: 

The airport is used by privately owned light aeroplanes, flying schools, and for light aircraft and helicopter maintenance and sales. A number of operators provide sight-seeing and pleasure flights, including the experience of flying in two T-6 Harvard World War II training aircraft.

So you get the unexpected pleasure of seeing bi-planes take off and land.

We spent some time on the beach but our luck being what it is, this was at the time the sun disappeared behind clouds that had suddenly appeared from nowhere. There were people in the sea, but, after a paddle, I decided I didn't really fancy stripping down for a swim. Missed opportunity. But it's worth remembering that away from the town centres there are miles of quiet under-occupied beaches. I have subsequently acquired beach shoes - a recommendation for the hotel we visited in Greece - and would strongly recommend them to transform the experience of visiting a pebbly beach in Sussex.

All day I saw dozens, hundreds of cyclists. I saw no one over the age of ten wearing a cycling helmet. The hot weather influenced my decision not to. I also saw no lycra. I concluded however, that when there are segregated cycle lanes, people feel safe cycling, and take to their bikes for pleasure. This lesson needs to be applied more widely.

Following this bike ride and the one on the Wandle Trail the day before, I took three weeks sick leave and began to reassess my capabilities and the consequences of 'overdoing it'.