July 19 Delights of the A34

Pick up car at airport.  Head for Coventry and cathedral.  Head off towards Selsey.  South of Newbury call in at Sandham Memorial Chapel.  Organise ourselves at Selsey.

After reading a book on Frances iPad for an hour I went back to sleep about 4am.  I woke again about 4:45 and decided that as it was daylight and I had had about 12 hours sleep I might as well go for a run.  What happened was more like a stagger than a run but I picked up and put them down broadly in a circuit of the National Exhibition Centre.  A few additional birds, and an amazing number of rabbits, were seen here.

By the time I had  a shower we were ready for the buffet breakfast which took in enough calories to last us for most of our trip.  A wonderful meal.  Then off to Europcar to get some wheels.  As we walked in we were amused at the sight of this hire car driver - possibly he'd call himself a chauffeur - changing a wheel, wearing rubber gloves to keep his hands clean.

While typing this I have have recalled the line in Lonnie Donegan's song "Putting on the Style" referring to  ".. driving like 'e's mad, wiv a pair of Yaller gloves, e's borrered from 'is dad."

The car turned out to be a petrol Polo manual without cruise control rather than the automatic diesel something with cruise control which I would have preferred).  Check out was easy and off we went towards Coventry.   Cutting to the chase for the car, it did the job.  It:

• could go at the speed limit (and more when needed on motorways)
• gave us about 45mpg; 
• carried all our kit; and 
• fitted into English country roads.

However it was incredibly noisy when pushed and certainly didn't have the grunt of Frances Jetta.  Also, in about 4 months of having automatic vehicles I have got out of the habit of shifting into top as soon as possible.

I'm not sure if we got into Coventry the easiest way and it was by now 8:15 so peak hour.  Also, as usual the Cathedral was on all the signposts until close to it.  After a few laps of the bus station we found somewhere to park and just as we were printing the ticket a local told us that the ticket machine in a nearby park was broken so parking was free.   Buggah.  Perhaps that is the tale behind this graffiti?

We then asked a passing lass how to get to the Cathedral and she didn't really know but then recalled the steps beside a pub which worked for us.  We went by the Priory Gardens which were pleasant

and then found our way to the Cathedral.  It was an omen that the Visitors Centre didn't open until 9:30 (and it was by now 8:45).  Going slightly forward, we found that the 'new' Cathedral didn't open until 10, which was a nuisance, at least until a skivvy for the Cathedral told us that the Bluecoats School had taken the place out for the morning for their end of year service.

BUGGAH!!! I then persuaded someone setting up the sound for the school to let take a photo but that didn't come out properly.  So we took some other snaps around the place noticing that quite a bit of old Coventry seemed to have survived the firestorm. 

This memorial is to fire fighters who didn't survive.

By dint of sticking our noses and my camera into various places I did get quite a few shots which hopefully give an idea of the Cathedral and its setting.

This is part of the remains of the old cathedral.

This sculpture was presented by a group from Dresden which was flattened by the Allies in retaliation for Coventry.

 Another Epstein, titled "Ecce Homo" .

 The huge etched glass window which allows folk inside the new cathedral to see the ruins of the old.

 An astonishing stained glass window with the sun coming though it.

 The altar hanging and the organ.

 Yet another Epstein, hanging on the outside of the Cathedral.  This one dpicts St Michael dealing with Satan.

We then hit the M40 and then A34 South, getting used (again) to the fact that many Poms – particularly those driving German performance cars - regard the 70 limit on motorways etc as a guideline.  As I sat on about 70mph (and I have no idea why the Poms have metricated liquid measures and weights but not linear measures)  my estimate was that a lot of cars that overtook me were doing close to, or above, 100mph.

Whatever, we poddled down to Newbury and 4 miles later took the turnoff to the Sandham Memorial Chapel.

This is now owned by the National Trust (NT) and is well described by them (photos are not allowed.).  A magnificent work by  Stanley Spencer commemorating the death of his sponsor's brother (and Spencer's friend) as a result of WW1.  The entire work took him 5 years and as some of the themes (eg horses being reincarnated) were offensive unto vicars (at that time, perhaps less so now) and had to be done after the chapel was consecrated. 

In true NT fashion the grass was not mown to encourage the butterflies.  There were certainly a lot of Six-spotted burnets around.

After viewing the Chapel we headed for the nearby Beacon Hill which we scaled to see the views across the Downs.

As we started we noticed a sign forbidding hang-gliders and on the top with a steady breeze could understand the appeal of the place for people who like that sort of thing.  We added a few bird species to the trip list and saw a model glider – apparently not banned. 

On, on down the road marvelling at how a caravan can screw up the traffic.  We found our way to Selsey, a little earlier than expected so went to look at La Manche (aka the English Channel) and then to buy some groceries (especially in bottles).  The first place we went to was appalling: all the wine was Australian and all brands we wouldn't cook with in Australia!  I then found an Off-license which provided (what has turned out to be) a very potable bottle of Argentinian Malbec.  Surprisingly the label didn't refer to the sinking of the General Belgrano, nor make any other reference to Las Malvinas.

We then found Gull cottage

and dumped off our kit.  To keep ourselves awake we went for a walk along the shingle.

adding several species of Gull to the bird list.  We could see how a 16 year old Pommie blonde might find the town “a hole” but we reckoned it was OK as a base for a holiday – just the visitors a tad declassé.  This group were in traditional style hiding from the wind behind a groyn while scoring some rays from the sun.

We had tea - I can't remember what -  watch Le Tour highlights, drink some Theakston's Old Peculier, and head for bed about 8:30 Selsey time.

Bird of the Day:  Black-headed Gull

Building of the day: Coventry Cathedral is the only real contender.  Saltham Memorial Chapel gets a "mouse that roared" award but it really was punching above its weight.

Garden of the Day: The front yard at Saltham.

Bad taste of the Day: The pink pom parade at Selsey

View of the Day: The Downs from Beacon Hill

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July 20 Castles and Rooks

Arundel, Wildfowl place.  Pulborough (RSPB towards Storrington), Petworth House – Archaeological event.)

Awake fairly early so did some typing while supping coffee and then off for a walk along the shingle to the West.  Many dog walkers around early in the morning and all friendly.

We walked back down the main drag, noting a seagull sitting on a chimney and wondering if they are the Pom equivalent of the Storks in Continental Europe)

and this sign about police bait and wondering if it was entrapment for thieves or an anti-corruption initiative aimed at Mr Plod.

We stopped in at the busy bakery for fruit buns and, talking of the police and their tastes, doughnuts.  Yummo.  they got visitd on  daily basis from then on.

After a digestion break we took off towards Arundel.  A first issue was Ernie's descendant: you remember the Benny Hill song about the fastest milkman in the west.  The version we found was the slowest milkman in the South: 10mph at best along a B-road with lots of traffic.  After being forced to follow him for about 2 miles we got by.   Here is a picture of this model of lassitude delivering the gold-top in the little road opposite Gull Cottage.

The next roundabout involved a slight navigational disaster which did have the good effect of getting Bognor Regis out of our system.  When pronouncing this name emphasise the “Bog”: way worse than Selsey (or Bateman's Bay)!

On arrival in Arundel we faced a common problem.  Where the heck do you park?  We found somewhere about 500m out of the centre which was way in front of the game.  When we left we found people parked about 2km out!  Our first point of call was the Catholic Cathedral where a service was going on so we didn't hang out for long.

We crossed the road to the Anglican Church of St Nicholas (being upgraded/repaired but still very interesting)

This backed on to the Fitzalan chapel, accessible from the Castle but visible dimly from St Nicks

We passed on going in to the (huge) Castle

 and went to the centre of the town where a Farmers Market was the order of the day.  Frances found a stall selling excellent artisanal meat pies after pointing me at the stall where the Arundel Brewery was offering free beer!  OK: after I had bought a polo shirt and a pack of three beers

perhaps it wasn't really free, but I was going to visit the brewery and buy those things anyway.  The Town Crier

 – I suspect not Dawn French moonlighting – was making a noise, as employed to do.

We wandered around the town a little and returned to look more closely at the Cathedral

– very Gothic and surprisingly free of pleas for money.  Then on down Mill Lane – a lovely avenue of trees - towards the Wetlands and Wildfowl Trust place – people were still parking in the road here and walking back to the town!  This was well set up, but there were few interesting birds other than the captive breeding populations.   These Black-necked Swan cygnets were attractive – definitely not Ugly Ducklings.

The final stop for the day was Petworth House reached by a circuitous route because I followed the truck signs rather than those through the town.  This was the home of the Percy family and its descendants. Things got tricky in 1837 when the only heir was illegitimate and thus couldn't inherit the title but did get the huge money.  Of course with that much money a new title was eventually found for him.  There were a lot of punters present and a lot of stuff for them to see.  This began with a bunch of folk demonstrating medieval  jobs.  I think this bloke was a doctor, but all his talk was about stools  so I referred to him as a turdologist.

I was particularly interested in an archaeological dig happening in the the Park.  This was a 9 day project and part of the first efforts by East Sussex County Council to understand the history of the area.   An excellent  talk was given by their archaeologist to explain what they were up to, and what they now understand.

It seemed the area had originally been owned by the Crown and 'Enery VIII had had a place here for hunting etc.  This was then acquired by the Duke of Northumberland who turned out to have a republican bent or a least an unconventional view as to who should be Monarch (he supported this role going to the Duke of Northumberland).  Queen Lizzie 1 disagreed and the Duke became both unenthroned and headless.  His descendants were restricted to the South of England.  Thus they had lots of money and could only spend it on Petworth.

The main way they spent the money was getting Capability Brown to do do some landscaping which basically involved completely changing the landscape.  His approach was:

• decide what shape he wanted for the land;
• remove and store the turf and topsoil;
• muck around with the rock underneath to achieve the required shape (often shifting many tons of material);
•  return the soil and turf.

This plays hob with the things that archaeologists wish to study.  At the end of the talk our guide commented that they try to minimise their digging as it basically destroys what is there.  They try to leave as much as possible for later more advanced people to study.  He commented that 20 years ago no-one would have been able to do the research to identify the recently discovered corpse of Richard III, and who knows what possibilities might exist in 20 years time.

I then joined Frances in looking around the House, free as we are members of the National Trust of NSW, which had a massive collection of paintings by many famous folk.

Turner was very well represented and the focus of interpretive signs in many rooms.  I also noted a few Joshua Reynolds, several Gainsboroughs and a Titian.

We then went for a stroll out to the Lake (totally invented by Capability Brown) marvelling at the number of people exercising their dogs.  The NT is quite relaxed about this as long as the dogs are controlled and not allowed to chase the deer.  My goodness, couldn't the NSW Sparks and Wildfires Service learn something from them!

At various points during the day we actually saw some rooks (a form of corvid that travels and. particularly, nests in very large groups).  So it was a very chessfull day.

On returning home (we passed on an RSPB reserve near Pulborough as the day had been rather full) I heard a roaring sound in the sky.  The rise and fall sounded like aerobatics but it didn't sound quite right for a Pitts Special.  Cast a pebble at the corvids: it was a Spitfire!  I had been hoping to see one of these at Goodwood (about 10 miles inland where a guy has set up a Spitfire flying school) but this was great.  All it needed was a Messerschmidt 109 chasing it (or, being patriotic, for it to chase).

The evening finished with a bottle of Duchy Organic Ale (thank you, young Wales) and a glass of Argentinan Malbec from the Off licence.

Bird of the Day: Robin at Arundel

Building of the day: Petworth House

Garden of the Day: Rhodedendrons leading up to Petworth

Bad taste of the Day: the crawling milkman

View of the Day: Mill Lane in Arundel

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July 21 The 2 Arthurs- King and Uncle

Uppark House, Petersfield, East Tisted, Hinton Ampher, Winchester

There are rumours, apparently commenced by Malory (the author of  Le Morte d'Arthur not Mallory the former mountaineer - although the latter did go to Winchester School) that Winchester, our main objective on this day was the site of Camelot.  Consensus seems to be it was a totally fictional joint invented by folk telling a good yarn!  That is the King Arthur.

My Uncle Arthur was - in the 1950s and 60s - a blacksmith in East Tisted, which village I hope to visit today.

I woke early and by 5:30 was out on the seawall running East into a nippy wind.  The dog walking classes were not yet evident but a couple on interesting signs were read:

• Mulberry Harbour – a key part of D Day was built off Selsey and then floated across to Normandy;
• At the end of the track a sign announced that the view from that point across to Bognor inspired Eric Coates to pen a tune by the name of Sleepy Lagoon, used as the theme song for Desert Island Discs on the BBC.  (I am advised that cultural references are needed to appreciate the significance of this.)

Round about the time I got to the second of these signs I became very interested in finding a third sign announcing the presence of a khazi.  Unfortunately, when I did track one down, it also announced that it was locked overnight.  But wait! there's more: the ones about 1km down the track are opened 24/7.  Sorry, wrong: that facility was also locked.  Fortunately for the environment of West Sussex -possibly also East Sussex, most of Hampshire and the Isle of Wight -  this was only 200m from home and I made it.

Frances and I then went for a walk along the main road to the shingle to go further West.  This soon ran into private property so we wandered back through a residential area.  The houses were large 

and the cars all new (and needless to say mainly imported).  Selsey is not an impoverished area, but it did cause us to wonder what the folk did for a living: it is about 8 miles from the nearest large town and railway station and there doesn't seem to be any manufacturing here.

After breakfast (accompanied by a perusal of a copy of the Sunday Independent, acquired for £2.20 and worth about 15p) we headed off in the general direction of Winchester.  We had to pass through the edge of Chichester to do this and found a triathlon going on.  In fact the triathlon bike leg pretty much followed our route.  This made the driving rather dangerous as many of the competitors appeared to have little idea of road safety, and the roads were – this being England – narrow and twisty.  We didn't hit anyone but we wondered what the death toll was overall.  There was massive support effort with marshals at every intersection.  On the one long downhill there were lots of signs about danger and a marshal on every bend!

 We eventually ended up at Uppark House and Garden.  We got there before they opened at 11 and it was explained to us that the house didn't open until 12:30 but we could take a mini-tour starting at 11:10 where we could see a few rooms.  This seemed like the best of an average situation so we did as suggested.    While waiting for 11:10 to arrive we took the opportunity to look closely at one of the flint-studded walls common in the area.

This made it obvious that this was a traditional equivalent to brick veneer with the flints simply filling in the gaps between the timber frame members, and having no load bearing function.

The mini-tour was brilliant.  The guide was very knowledgeable and had a very good grasp of the story.  A main part of the recent history of the House was a huge fire in 1989 which effectively gutted the place.  (It seems this was started by contractors, but I'm not sure how.)  Anyway the firies were there within 15 minutes of the alarm being raised and decided quickly that the upper floor was a goner so ignored that and worked towards getting all the art and antiques out of the ground floor.  They did this very well indeed, apart from not knowing how to remove a few things:

•  the grand piano was covered by a carpet and lost (the carpet had a corner burnt off, which was repaired in Hungary, as no-one in England can hand knot carpet any more!); and
•  a large 4-poster bed was only removed – by NT - staff the next day and 15 minutes later the ceiling in that room came down.

The insurance on the property came up with £20m and the contractors were sued for another £1m so the NT didn't have to cough up anything.

The other story was the ownership of the house.  At a relatively recent point the then owner, aged in his 70s married his dairymaid and they lived there happily with the dairymaid getting very involved in running the place.  Eventually the old chap died and the estate passed to the dairymaid.  She invited her sister to join her and when the dairymaid died the house passed to the sister (the dairymaid not having fallen pregnant).  I think that they decided that when the sister died the house would pass to the son of a friend.  His descendants still live in houses on the estate and the restored upper floor of the House.

We then wandered around the gardens after watching a Red Kite patrolling the valley below.  I reported this to someone and they said that the birds are now regular.  There will be more about Red Kites in another post, but when I left the UK in 1970 they were still on the verge of extinction in the UK with a few pairs in Wales.  Now it seems they are are regularly observed over a fair part of England and wales.

We headed off towards Winchester.  A diversion occurred to visit the village of East Tisted where my uncle used to own (and operate) a smithy.  (As a total sidetrack, as I type this I was thinking about my visits there as a child and can suddenly smell the red hot shoes going on to the horses hooves.  Anyone who has attended such an event will know to what I refer, and that this is nothing to do with breakfast toast being created.)  The house it still called The Forge but the smithy – and the income supplementing petrol pumps – are no more (but the stable where my cousin kept her horse is still at the back).

We have just (2/2/2014) come across this old postcard of East Tisted which my Aunt sent me in July 1953.

The relatives house is the one at the RH end.

We went for a squiz at the excellently preserved church with good memorial plaques and admired some of the other houses in the village.

On, on towards Winchester with a swerve into Hinton Amper (and a few curses at the yokels with two tractors dragging hay along the road from East Tisted) .  The big deal here was the excellent garden.  

The ownership of the house was again interesting ending with a gent described as “a committed bachelor” - can the truth be a euphemism?- leaving the property to the NT.  

An interesting sidelight was a displayed letter, signed Elizabeth R, thanking the owner for his hospitality and an accompanying note from a member of the Royal Household saying that the handwriting of the letter was that of the Queen Mum but they had no record of the visit.  A guide explained that the interpretation of this was a comfort stop: public conveniences are not on the cards nor are convenient bushes (the problems being more than stinging nettles).

The NT shop here was selling local bottled produce which will be commented on later.  They also got some action from Frances who acquired a book about NT houses and another blanket.  A final comment is to note that a Classic Citroen Club was visiting the place with a lot of Maigret specials parked out the front of the house and attracting a lot of looks from the other visitors.

Leaving there we headed to Winchester and despite the efforts of the people who leave crucial information off signs made it into the city centre.  However there was no indication of where the Cathedral was so we didn't want to park and find we had to walk 2 miles.  I asked someone who looked like (and probably was) a local but they were in training for that oversubscribed occupation of village idiot and didn't know.  Interestingly that is the second time we have asked people for directions to physically massive and economically key sites and the locals haven't known.  After a very confusing lap of the city centre we arrived back where we started but having spotted the cathedral so knew to park there.  The car park was a tribute to incompetence (I'm not sure if it was the Council or the private sector):

•  despite all the signs about pay and display it turned out to be free on Sundays!
• the lifts didn't work (and hadn't done since about June 2012);
• we had gone up 2 levels but were on level 4 and then went down 1 level to the street.

 We got to the Cathedral and found Evensong about to kick off so wandered in to join the throng (thus not having to pay, and getting some music thrown in).  Frances really enjoyed the music but it wasn't to my taste: apparently it was quite modern and thus showed off the cleverness of the composer and singers.    I was intrigued by one of the Lessons which went on about defending the city from “ruthless aliens” - Anglicanism defined by the BNP? - and the modern language used which lost all the feel of the old prayers which I remembered (but were probably not understood by the MP3 generation).

Once the Service was over I was free to take photographs 

including some of the memorials around the building.  This extensive list is of members of the Royal Hampshire Regiment who have died on service.

This is a memorial to Sir John Campbell who died at Sebastopol in fighting during the Crimean War - not a conflict memorialised in Australia.

There were a lot of other military ones (including the men of the Pay Corps – I have never found one to the dunny builders of the Pioneer Corps) and a very large brass on the wall and flagstone in the floor for Jane Austen.  (She was about to get a lot of air-time as a result of being put on the 10 pound note!

 On home.   This was basically a blat for about an hour, interrupted by refueling on the outskirts of Chichester and finding we had averaged about 38mpg which is not too bad.  (From a comparison with later results this suggests the car wasn't exactly brim full when we picked it up, but also indicates the way travellng at motorway speed increases the fuel consumption.)

Evening libations for me were Arundel Sussex Gold Ale (very hoppy and refreshing) and, while waiting for our take-away fish and chips to be cooked at the Lifeboat pub, a slightly softer styled pint of St Austel Pride bitter.  The latter comes from Cornwall so wasn't really local but close enough when thirsty.  Frances partook of Tillingdon Hills cider purchased at the Co-op: she rated it as good  with a distinctive slightly herbal taste.

Bird of the Day: Red Kite

Building of the day: Winchester Cathedral

Garden of the Day: Hinton Ampher

Bad taste of the Day: the car park in Winchester

View of the Day: from the bedroom in Uppark House.

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