July 18 Brum, brum ,brum

As part of the planning for trip Frances decided to consult the tourist board sites for this renowned city.  One of them burbled about filling her computer with cookies “to give her the best experience” so she passed on that (as soon as she had finished chundering).   Next stop was the Council site.  She put in “Public art” and got one listing – of something that burnt down in 2003.

One could say “What else do you expect from Birmingham?” and plan to spend the day in the hotel sleeping.  However, being of a curious mind I Googled “Birmingham UK public art” and got a very large amount of information.  There seem to be at least 20 works in the Centre of the city, including at least one by Anthony Gormley.  (There is apparently a fountain featuring a young lady, not as I first thought Queen Victoria, which is known as the "floozie in the jacuzzi".)  I don’t think we are going to have any trouble amusing ourselves!

We left KL in a nice new 777 just before midnight, but it was after midnight in Australia so I will count it as day 2.  We had Economy Comfort seats which cost extra but were well worth it as we had no-one in front and I was able to get a little sleep.  Frances did quite well.  The first four hours were a bit bumpy and involved at least one major kink in the flight path to go round a storm in the Bay of Bengal. 

At one point there was a call for ''a medical doctor to the rear of the plane” and after someone walked past from Business Class a crew member appeared with a rather large first aid kit.

We were both awake as dawn tried to catch up with us over the Ukraine, but daylight didn't really arrive until well West of Berlin.   When breakfast had been served one of the crew announced that “we are still in German airspace ...” which was an interesting way of saying we aren't in Holland yet.  When we did get to Holland it looked very damp and mist was rolling in from the sea. Not a great snap, but it was grey and misty.

As we landed we could see how neat and tidy all the farms were, with nice regular shaped fields: I wondered if they were tulip farms but Frances said the season was wrong.  During taxi Jackdaws established themselves as first European bird and thus Bird of the day.  Tulips were evident in the airport shop.

As were other things: this array of souvenirs quickly set up an unbreakable lead in the bad taste award (all categories). 

We basically sat around for nearly three hours waiting for our flight to Birmingham: since Schiphol offers a free internet service that wasn't too hard.  We then caught a bus out to our plane (an Embraer jet) which involved a drive that, had the sea not got in the way, would have just about got us to Clacton.  

The flight was pretty much up and down, taking 50 minutes.  We got a good view of some Dutch towns where the developments seemed to have been designed to make nice shapes when seen from 3km above!.

Two middle aged pommie "lads" were behind us talking incessantly about their work with mining companies in various dodgy parts of Africa.  It was quite interesting – for example “I wouldn't want to live in Birmingham City: its better in Africa.”, which wasn't said by the one who worked in Kigali - but rather intrusive.  When I got a look at them on leaving the flight I'd say they were both quite hard blokes: built like brick outhouses, skinhead haircuts and in one case a good crop of tatts.

Unlike Holland the fields were very undisciplined.  It was rare for there to be one straight side let alone 4 at right angles to each other.  

After landing we went to the terminal and my guess is that we were out of there in about 20 minutes.  It would have been quicker but the immigration guy was very chatty and I was in polite mode.  A very helpful lad in the information centre (a big comeback after the shambles of their website outlined above) pointed us to the hotel; explained how to get to the City Centre (train is the go); and provided maps!

Check in at the Hotel (Novotel) resulted in us upgrading our room to get in straight away.  Getting the review of the Hotel out of the way I rated it rather good: the staff were all helpful, it was very quiet and the food good.

We caught the shuttle train to Birmingham International Station from where British Midland took us into the City Centre (New Street).  Yet again the ticket seller was helpful and efficient – what has happened to the traditional English Jobsworth work ethic?  Unfortunately, the Nanny Society has survived Tony Blair - I read a book by Jeremy Clarkson later in the trip in which he refers to "His Tonyness" - so the train ride was accompanied by various and continual warnings to “mind the gap” “don't leave belongings unattended” “Read the security notices”. 

Our travels around Birmingham took us first past an arcade with an ornate ceiling 

and then to Victoria Square where many of the public artworks were to be found.  These included the “floozie in the jacuzzi”

and Anthony Gormley's Iron Man.  

The Art Gallery ...

... was also there and yet again was notable for a lack of Jobsworths.  All staff were helpful - and not just to us: I saw a security guard find a chair for a guy who was sketching Using A PENCIL!!!- and photography was welcome everywhere except a special exhibition and the Staffordshire Hoard. So here are a couple of samples 

 

As well as these traditional works there were some modernish stuff (although this by "Rock Drill" by Jacob Epstein comes from 1915 so emphasises the 'ish'.

and this collection reflects the industrial nature of the Midlands

The ban in the Hoard may be to promote book sales or possibly to reflect its shared ownership (with another gallery).  This was an astonishing collection of gold jewellery and artefacts found in a ploughed field in 2009 by a guy using a metal detector.  I think he ended up scoring £3m for it!  Well done that boy!  It seems they are still working on it (eg one item was found last year embedded in a lump of clay) but have not been able to decide why it was deposited.

Great graffiti on the Public Library

... and I liked this building, and its contrast with the glass brick beside it,  enough to photograph it.

 Next stop, was St Phillips Anglican Cathedral which was brilliant.  It was surrounded by lawns that were covered with Brummies eating their lunch in the sunshine.  (Very reminiscent of Bryant Park in New York.)  Inside was very well decorated 

and there weren't too many signs begging for money.  I took a photo of a set of Memorial plaques

 although I probably won't submit them to the Register of NSW War Memorials).   That being said, my interest having been stirred by NSW Memorials I did find looking for memorials added a fair bit of interest to the trip.  The design of them varied greatly and some of them told interesting stories so I have created a special post - or possibly 2 - in this blog to hold information that didn't fir with the overall narrative. 

We weaved our way past this wicker statue

to the Catholic Cathedral which was designed by Pugin, the father of the Gothic Revival in the mid-19^th Century.  Unfortunately 'Security' meant you couldn't take snaps.  I asked a lady why not and she said  “I don't know;  It was the Dean's idea so ask him if you can find him.” Obviously the Dean has attracted all the jobsworthiness of Staffordshire and I convivially wish him the best of luck. See also a Pugin-related comment under Shrewsbury some days below.

We briefly visited a Waitrose (as Stephen Fry has commented, kept clear of scum by the activities of Sainsbury's) to get something to eat for tea and some bottled goods.  Back to the hotel to try to stay awake.  I failed and was asleep by 3pm Brum time (1am Carwoola time) in which state I remained until about 3am Brum time the next morning.

I was surprised to find that there was very little of what I regard as the traditional Brum accent to be heard and no-one said 'each' anywhere in my presence.  Possibly this was because most of the folk we spoke with were of NESB.

Bird of the Day: Jackdaw at Schipol (first European bird of the trip).  A Peewit seen as we took off gave it a run as it was the only one seen all trip while Jackdaws were in flcoks of 50 aroundTugford, but first in, best dressed.

Building of the day: Birmingham Art Gallery

Garden of the Day: No contenders

Bad taste of the Day: Ceramic clogs in Schiphol

View of the Day: Nothing really startling but I have grown rather alarmingly fond of the mixed shapes and colours of fields in English farmland.

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July 30 The Bard and The Borders

Stratford on Avon,  Hidcote Manor.  

I was a wake at 5am and it was well daylight so I decided to go for a waddle round the lanes.  When driving I hadn't realised how hilly they were!  It was a very pleasant start to the day especially at the top of the hill out of Bouldon where there was a great view (if one is into irregularly shaped paddocks with grain at various stages of ripeness giving a very variable palette.  (I was also going to fit the word 'texture' in there somewhere, but my gag reflex cut in.)

We left quite promptly on a trip aimed to get to Hidgrove garden.  This is a fair way from Tugford and we had wondered about calling in there on our way from Brum to Selsey.  I had felt that it was better to come back since we wouldn't be able to spend much time at the garden in the middle of a long drive.  Although I realised it was still going to be a longish day in the saddle doing it this way at least we weren't faced with setting up a place at the end.

It was also a chance to check out most of the route back to Birmingham Airport and it didn't seem too bad.  (Subsequently checking out Google Maps suggests this wasn't as good a route as I had thought.  We shall decide later!)  The major problem on the way out was a tractor dragging a trailer load of wheat up a very steep hill: it was so underpowered it was down to 5mph – and belching black smoke – at one point.  We had to follow it for about 2 miles which seemed to take for ever. 

On the other hand we found Clee Hill which gave stunning views over a huge area.  There were a number of signs saying “Don't feed the sheep”.  The woolies were evident in fair numbers grazing beside the road, but I felt no need to stop and vary their diet.  On the way back we did stop for a photograph.

Kidderminster was transited with no problems as was Bromsgrove.  Our intermediate target was Startford on Avon, mainly because I'd never been there and it is a big ticket tourist item.  This is of course to do with William Shakespeare and as we approach the town saw a sign to Ann Hathaway's Cottage so followed the signs into the parking lot for that edifice.   We parked – at £1 for 3 hours it was good value – and walked up the road to the cottage itself.  We swiftly decided that at £9 a head this was not good value and walked back towards the car, taking a couple of snaps of the place as we went. 

It was pleasant looking, just not £18 worth!

Knowing as we do that most places in the UK are very short of parking (and charge like wounded bulls for the privilege) we left the car where it was a walked the mile into the centre along a signed footpath, getting a good look at non-Shakespearean Stratford as we did.  The most intriguing bit of this was an intersection with another path where the alternate route was blocked off by police tape, with Mr Plod X 4 standing just a little bit down the path.  No idea what was going on, but the other punters on our path were all muttering about it: obviously no-one was game to ask Mr Plod for fear of spending some time assisting them with their enquiries or having to buy tickets to the Policeman's Ball.  (For similar reasons I decided taking a snap was Not a Good Idea.)

The town centre was quite attractive with a bunch of old buildings with a couple announcing tenuous connections to the Bard.  

Passing by the Garden of Rememberance – noting the soldiers prayer

- we carried on to Trinity Church and Shakespeare's grave.  The grave is actually in the church and to really look at it one had to throw £2 to a guy handing out leaflets.  Or, if you were taller than the coachload of ragazzi (Italian schoolkids) in the area, you could take a distant photo. 

The church was very good to look at and seemed to be reasonably similar to a 17^th century painting (except for the added organ).  The organ was being played very well, but the organist didn't take requests.  Some interesting War Memorials were snapped and are included in the relevant post.

We strolled back to the car noting that Mr Plod was still evident, although only 2 rather than 4.  As they might still have a few tickets to issue or sell I still didn't pursue my interest in their activities.   We fired up the car and headed off towards Hidcote which seemed to involve going though the centre of Stratford.  It appeared that the main street had a function of car park rather than thoroughfare but it gave us a good look at some parts we hasn't been to.  We ended getting a double look at one area as the people responsible for traffic signs had stuffed up a crucial one, burying the phrase “All other routes” in the middle of directions to car parks.  Whatever: we found our way out.  As we drove down the road I marveled yet again at the ability of British 'drivers' to go down a small road at trivial velocity and then, once overtaken, turn off.  They get a walk down the red carpet in the awards section of this post.

With a little fiddling around we got to Hidcote Garden.  The car park was pretty full with volunteers directing visitors.  As a guide I spoke to later reckoned the place was 'very quiet' we wondered where people parked when it got busy.  We had a look round part of the garden before attending a talk about the history of the garden.  Here are a few of my images.

This cedar is one of Johnstone's originals in the 'room' (yecch: for some reason I hate that word in this context) now called the Old Garden.

A first border!

The developer was Lawrence Johnstone and rather than B S Johnstone (referred to earlier) I would rate him as Bloody Clever Johnstone.  His mother was a wealthy American who had bought him this place to indulge his interest in gardening.  It is possible she hoped it might also interest him in starting a family.  (She also gave him some procreational encouragement with her will, in which he was to get to income from her estate – about $900,000 per year – but he only got the (very serious) principal if he had an heir.)  Alas, he seems to not have been interested in the basic strategy for breeding humans, and on his death a bunch of US based nephews and nieces got lucky.

It really was an excellent garden.  Quite possibly the best we have ever seen anywhere.  Since Johnstone was in financial difficulty by the time of his death he had clearly been putting a lot of the $900k into the place every year.  He left the garden to the NT (who took some persuading to accept it as at that time, but not now, they only took houses, some of which had gardens).

The vegetable garden had particular interest as it was surrounded by a solar powered electric fence. We wondered what was being kept out, and it turned out to be rabbits (in the past) and badgers.  

The rabbits are no longer an issue as myxomatosis wiped them out two years ago and they haven't repopulated.  Also of interest was a photograph of some pigs which had been used to stir the soil up and fertilise it.  They had been kept on the area for too long and rather than loosening the soil had compacted it.

A few more pictures of aspects of the garden.  There were many forms of dipterid (flies to you) around the garden.  Here is one.

We were pretty certain this is a form of Eryngium, another species of which, E. ovinum, grows in our paddocks, being known as Blue Devil.

I thought this Delphinium got my prize for stunning flower head of the day.

 It is not often that one is able to get a snap showing a bumble bee coexisting with a European wasp.

On a personal note the guide who spoke mention that Johnstone had corresponded and exchanges plants, with many other plant collectors.  I asked if that had included E A 'Gussie' Bowles for whom my Dad had worked in the 1930s.  It turned out that he had particularly with the rockery plants .

I spoke with several of the workers and guides around the gardens and the were all both charming and knowledgeable.  We concluded that we had definitely made the correct decision in not coming here on our way to Selsey.  We spent somewhat over 3 hours in the place which would not have happened under the alternate strategy.

After getting home including a stop on Clee Hill to check the view ...

...  we went for tea at the Tally-Ho pub in Bouldon.

A really nice pub which was doing good trade.  I had an excellent steak and kidney pie

while Frances had fish and chips, which she rated as OK (because the fish component was good on batter but a trifle thin in the matter of cod).  Beers consumed were:

•                     Ludlow Gold - a bit fuller bodied than many of the beers I have tried on this trip but definitely potable) and

•                     Woods Wonderful – somewhat stronger than many I have tried at 4.8% but an excellent sample.

As might be expected the décor was somewhat hunting oriented.

Bird of the Day:  Pelican: refer discussion of British drivers around Stratford.

Building of the day: Ann Hathaway's cottage

Garden of the Day: Hidcote, Hidcote, Hidcote

Bad taste of the Day: The plastic lion outside a safari park at Kidderminster.

View of the Day: from Clee Hill.

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The search for a souvenir gazunda

In 1997 we were touring Slovakia when I broke the hammer I used to knock in the tent pegs.   It proved surprisingly difficult to find a replacement (known in Slovak as a kladivho) and that phase of the trip report became known as "The search for a good kladivho.".  We now find - thank you SMH - that among the mementos of the impending Royal Birth in the UK are “.. souvenir potties ..(which) …have been given the royal seal of approval." We gotta find one! (For those not familiar with English slang a pottie goes under the bed - thus "goes under" is pronounced "gazunda".)

In fact we found very few souvenirs of The Birth or even The Naming.  This may be explained by the MD of a ceramics company who explained on TV that they tried to do most of their business by pre-order rather than shopfront retail.

Now I am back home I can search the net to see what is available.  My first generated an up market site not offering a pottie as far as I can tell.  In an emergency I suppose these jugs would serve but Stg3k seems a lot to piddle in, and #2s could be tricky during the training phase.  This company offered a measuring jug for Stg 6.75 would could be useful in view of  his paternal grandpa's scientific interests (but Waitrose can probably offer the same functionality for a couple of quid.  In the end the nearest I got was an offer of a second hand potty-chair. located in the town of Prince George in British Columbia.  (At least the purchaser will know it won't have been used by a bear, as they all crap in the woods.)

My conclusion that like a good potty the SMH article was full of it.

Our only relevant souvenir is the edition of Private Eye current when we left, of which the cover is reproduced below.

Other than this, I wasn't aware of any hysteria whatsoever.  Excluding of course the media trying to find something to get hysterical about.  For goodness sake, for this baby to become important:

• Betty has to join the great majority which she is showing no signs of doing;
• Prince Chuck (who The Eye refers to as Brian for some reason known only to Lord Gnome pp Emmanuel Stobes) also has to meet his maker, and with his healthy lifestyle probably has a good few years left in him;
• George's dad also has to shuffle of (as a military helicopter pilot one would have to say he is the most likely to croak).

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As she is spoke

Some years back I was reading a Lonely Planet guide which talked about English accents.  Their advice was to be very careful about asking people what language they are using, since it might well turn out to be English.

With that in mind I note that the areas in which we will be based have some rather good specimens of the accents available.  At least they were available when I was wearing short pants.

A challenge is going to be finding a way of representing these terms in text.  To try to kick things off, a great example of the Yorkshire accent was our physics teacher at Maldon Grammar (which was a Government school, despite sounding like the toffee places in Australia where Grammar= huge fees).  The brats - myself included - went to fair lengths to get him to refer to the gas given off at a cathode during hydrolysis of water.  The way he pronounced the outcome can I think be reproduced as "Boobles of iiidrigin."

A small side issue on this may be recording some of the bizarre names of places, reflecting their genesis in a mediaeval language and changes through the years.  The thought has arisen from the name of a village quite close to Ingleby: Rudby Sexhow.  Following our trip down the Hume Highway I must confess that English names will mostly seem quite sensible compared to places like Wangaratta, Wagga Wagga and Yarrawonga.  (Also, the Australian examples may translate as something just as funny as 'Sexhow'.)

19 June: To Ingleby

Arrive Manchester, drive to Ingleby Manor.  Probably do sleep!

The immigration guy was very chatty and friendly. No way was he a jobsworth!  In fact Manchester airport was very good in all respects.

The hire car was picked up in a very friendly way. It is a turbo diesel Skoda and rolls along very nicely (especially as it has cruise control.) As predicted by the AA Atlas we are using there are speed cameras everywhere, including a long stretch on the M56 which used average speed. Despite all this many cars went past me, who was sitting on 70. (I assume that is still the motorway limit – there are no signs to say so! ) As we have driven around it is very difficult to work out where the speed cameras are.  There are many signs - in some cases 4 or 5 within 2 miles - but rarely do I spot a camera.  In fact these are mainly the equivalent of "speed cameras may be used in this area" and not an indication of a fixed item: however I am still amazed that anyone in the UK who travels more than 10 km from home has a driving license.

While trying to work out where we could park in Middlesbrough I spoke to a couple of Middlesbrough Wardens. They said they didn't do parking, so couldn't help me but were very friendly.

Our visit to Middlesbrough was generally a bit fraught as I had basically had it – by this time we'd been travelling for 38 hours with not much sleep so I was stuffed. We got some cash and some groceries and that was about it. We found our way to Ingleby Manor where we were greeted by our very charming and friendly hostess and introduced to the Gun Room which is excellent.

A fair number of birds were seen on the way. First was a wood pigeon, and the best a kestrel (defined as best because I like them)!

The weather was ungood. 13C , overcast and windy. Our hostess said that the previous week it was 26 and sunny! No particular linguistic items, but the average denizen of Middlesbrough has an accent that could break rocks. (On the flight to Dubai we spoke to a young guy from York and, when speaking to us, he had a strong accent but when he was talking to another bloke at full speed I could not understand a word!)

22 June: Durham and Salthome

Leeds is Kultur: Art Gallery and Fairburn Ings (birds) and the Yorkshire Sculpture Park!

The first day of the BIG 3: high success with buildings, birds and beer.

After an exercise walk around Ingleby Greenhow we headed off for Durham, principally to check out the cathedral. En route we stopped to buy our first fuel ( I keep wanting to call it petrol – fortunately I stuck diesel in the motor). Fuel consumption has worked out at 49.6 mpg, not bad with a mixture of motorway, urban and very rural roads.

A pretty simple drive into Durham, and by following our eyes got a park close to the cathedral. This was in a private park and was a tad cheaper than the council one in York. However, this place let you pay post hoc (so you didn't have to guess how long you'd be) and gave change so you didn't get ripped off. I don't see this as a public/private distinction, just that York Council employs some jobsworth prats.

Durham cathedral was magnificent. Possibly the best cathedral I have ever visited anywhere for magnificent architecture. Unfortunately photography was not allowed (presumably because it reduced guidebook sales). It was huge in every dimension and followed Norman designs: according to Francs' guidebook it was the first place to use pointed window arches which were subsequently used everywhere. We read that a service has been given every day for more than 900 years!

We thought the glass was better than Chartres (ie it actually was clean enough to let light through) and much better made than York (which was very cluttered with lead). However the space wasn't full of light but dim enough to feel impressive. By clicking my tongue I rated the acoustics as very good- I'd love to go to a full on choral service here.

The two most impressive memorials were:

• 
  
  the tomb of the Venerable Bede (about 900 years old); and
• 
  
  the miners Register which recorded the names of miners killed in accidents at each mine. 6 July 1951 was not a good day at one mine, to which the book was open as they lost 10 guys that day. Its a tough area.

On our way to the cathedral I had stopped to scope out some cormorants in the river and felt a dog brush against me. On looking round it was 3 fat skinheads in police uniform with a very scruffy and old looking pooch. We came across them later and they seemed to have some plain clothes colleagues emerging from the market with 'substances' which the dog was detecting. The dog also snuffled some citizens but didn't detect whatever they were carrying.

I met the first jobsworth, in the shape of a woman who said very officiously that the courtyard of the castle (now part of the Uni) was closed. I merely said “yes” in response, rather than “go tell someone who gives a damn”.

Our next stop was Salthome Reserve run by the RSPB. This was a stunning place where everything was well set up and managed but they had avoided turning it into a zoo. It was quite bizarre to find such a great place in the middle of a very heavily industrialised area. They had quite a lot of punters there – my guess was 60 cars at any one time in the car park (and June/July is the worst time of the year). I recorded about 28 species in the two hours we were there, with many of them breeding. 17 of these were additions to the trip list.

The two images show the visitors centre (with the cooling towers from a “power from waste" station in the background) and a flock of Grey lag Geese sailing off with a petrochemical plant as background. It says something about the importance of the place that signs started on the A19 about 5 miles (and 4 major intersections) away. Perhaps this is the sort of thing to which some folk aspire for Kelly's Swamp in Canberra. Other than the 'Field of Dreams' approach – if you build it they will come- the first job is to get reliable water in the place and the second is to staff and manage the place properly. I would say that Salthome would be a good model to follow., and the RSPB would be a good source of expert advice.

We then moved on a tad to the Teesmouth National Nature Reserve to see the nesting avocets. It astonishes me that when I was growing up there was huge excitement about a pair of these nesting at Minsmere in Suffolk, and now they are in a heavy industrial area several hundred miles North. We also saw 38 seals (a mixture of common and grey seals) hauled out on a mud bank a tad further away.

All of this had induced thirst so we repaired to the White Swan in Stokesley for refreshment. Frances had a cider while I inhaled two good brews from the Captain Cook brewery: Black Porter and Slipway Ale.

A few linguistic and cultural observations.

• A Burger King in Durham was offering the chance to watch the World Cup final with Jimmy Greaves. I hadn't heard of him for many, many years but he is obviously still big news in the UK.
• An advertising sign (for beer) in the heavy industrial area on the North of the Tees; “Same colour as a footballers wife. But better tasting.”
• When in the pub we couldn't eavesdrop as we couldn't understand the locals talking between themselves. However when they talked to us they slowed down and the accent greatly reduced.

23 June: Yorkshire Sculpture Park

Durham.

That was yesterday and today was the day our plans from yesterday got implemented. As I found that the Yorkshire Sculpture Park (YSP) didn't open until 10am and we were awake etc and breakfasted by 6:30 I thought we could slightly vary our route and swing by Fairburn Ings (an RSPB reserve) on the way to YSP.

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This turned out to be a great idea as we saw lots of birds at the Ings (I think basically a set of revegetated waste heaps). Everyone we met there as frindly and I added 5 species to the trip list. (Another 2 were added at YSP, bringing the total for the trip to 68.) The best bird was a Whooper Swan, of which I had only seen 1 before (at Jamaica Bay in New York, where its 'tickability' was questionable at best). On checking with a local this one was quite sound.

After a brief thrash down the M1 past a power station – surely the inheritor of Blake's approbation of “dark Satanic mills” we got to YSP. What an absolute blast! I rate the place at least as good as Storm King in upstate New York. I will not add any images until I get back to Carwoola and can resize them, but I took 60 snaps today and they are mainly quite interesting. A special page will be created.

There was a special exhibition of the work of David Nash who does things with wood. The things done include

• setting fire to it,
• assaulting it with a chainsaw (and I suspect various other mechanical devices); and
• letting it fall into a river and filming it over a number of years as it rolls downstream. (This one is weird as he lost it for a while and thought it had gone out to sea, but it re-emereged from a sand bar so the project is ongoing.)
• Building a set of steps on commission by YSP 

Other highlights were

• 3 Andy Goldsworthy walled things (the Hanging Trees were my favourite);

 

• many Henry Moore's
• Barbara Hepworth's Family of Man series; and
• a set of Caros.

One issue about the place was finding out what works were: it was frequently a problem finding the labels which could be several metres from the work.

The works of Elizabeth Frink featuring male nudes were quite fun. It was livened up by the visit of a horde of schoolkids (of rather tender years and non-Caucasian backgrounds) who proceeded to touch 'sensitive' parts of  the art work in a fair number of inventive ways, which I will not go into here, to keep the porn police at bay.

There was quite a trek involved in viewing this place. I would guess we covered about 6kms (horizontal, and fair bit vertical) at a minimum. I was interested to see that here, like most everywhere else was well supplied with molehills. I suspect ths means that agricultural chemical use has been got somewhat under control. As a general comment it was very pleasing to find that dogs were largely welcome in most parts of YSP. as long as they were on a lead this included the areas with grazing cattle and sheep.

The distant view include a huge concrete tower/radio mast On asking a passing local this turned out to be Emley Moor Tower: the tallest free-standing stucture in Europe. It replaced an earlier steel version that had succumbed to cold and strong winds and crashed. I have put in a link to this in Wikipedia.

The beer report for today is not good. We went to the Dudley Arms in Ingleby Greenhow to find they sold commercial beers. I tried Calders 70 (an average mild) and Tetleys Midsummer madness which was flat warm and tasteless – a summary of what CAMRA set out to overcome.

As usual we could not understand much of the local conversations. One bit – by a young male person could be reproduced as “Hour mooch cud yer erve ud?” which we think translated to “How much could you have had?” Also on the linguistic line, Frances invented a new collective noun: 'an inadequacy of road signs'

30 June: Royal Norfolk Show

One of the delights on offer in Norfolk is the possibility of complimentary tickets to the Royal Norfolk Show.  It is on this date so there should be reference to it somewhere round about here.  Also a few other things close to Norwich.

30 June was designated as Royal Norfolk Show Day. I don't think Ms Windsor (neither Babs nor Betty) was in attendance because they were both in London. However most everyone else was. Jeez there were a lot of punters there, and this was just day 1 of 2.  The photo below was taken at about 9:45 when we first got to the site!

We took the back road to the show to avoid queues on the A14 which could be some kilometres long. This plan basically happened and we slotted into the Members car park with our Vice-Presidents pass. We also had international visitors badges (both of these courtesy of our hosts at Coach House – thanks Mike and Mary) which generated a few conversations with folks over the day.

There were some instructions accompanying our tickets which mentioned a dress code.   Basically not torn jeans, but we did dress a bit more than we did for going birding.  Some other people did meet the dress code, but did terrible damage to the concept of good taste!

The Show was great. There were a number of elements to the event:

1. Events in the ring, of which we saw a bit of some trick motorcyclists (far quieter than the half wits that drive around Carwoola), some draught horses pulling brewery drays; and a bit of show jumping.
2. Farm machinery displays, which astonished me with the size of the kit (most tractors were 140HP while those I remember were less than 70HP);
3. Sideshow alley – we passed on this, but it looked terrifying:
4. Retail stalls. These showed a lot of products, of which we got quite a lot. Wellies for Frances; a vest and a couple of shirts for me. The surprising thing was that there was very little tat around. Most of the material was pretty good.
5. Various countryside groups: these ranged from overtly conservationist (eg Norfok Wildlife Trust) through the Raptor Trust with a display of tethered raptors, several of which don't occur in the UK and the gundog club to a mob seeking to repeal the ban on fox hunting. The gundog club put on interesting demos of working dogs and the same area was used for the terrier racing (see above). I reckon a certain small fox terrier could do well at that. I also reckon PETA would have a fit with it, despite the small dogs enjoying it greatly!
6. Various rural themed areas, such as cows (very entertaining but one couldn't get close for OHAS bullshyte reasons); flowers (pretty good, especially where the judges had left their views on entries); and dogs (weird – the dogs all seemed to be out in the show generally except for the brief time they were on deck to be inspected); and
7. FOOD AND DRINK: never, in the course of human history has so much good stuff been got together in one place. Many good sausages and pies (the latter being acquired in some number). Lots of brewers Adnams, St Peters, Wolf (the best names of beers ever found, including “Granny wouldn't like it” which at a sip was very tasty) Woodforde, and Calvors (very light and bitter, but tasty). St Peters got the nod for purchases and are earning their stripes as I type. Wolf and Calvors didn't make it to the Beer page as I didn't have enough of it.

There were some interesting OHAS elements to the livestock exhibits.  Everywhere that one could get close to livestock had a wash station outside it, which seemed a bit extreme to me.  The bigger animals (cattle and horses) were not accessible at all.

In summary the Show was marvellous. Congratulations to all involved.

We stayed at the show for 6 hours and then went home. After a short while we went for a walk around the village. I did take a photo of a linguistic road sign: the use of the word 'bor' took me back 45 years in very short order. One of the roads was called Milestone Lane which I though a bit odd, until we cam across a milestone showing “London 100 miles” which had the vegetation cleared around it (unlike the linguistic sign which I had to clear up to take the photo).

An annoyance was going to the library to check my email to find that it was shut from 1pm. Perhaps a remnant of early closing day, although the Co-op had been open to sell us some fruit and wine.