July 23 Old fogeys of the New Forest

Thorney Island, Lyndhurst, Beaulieu

Those of advanced years might note in the title a backhanded reference to the book "Children of the New Forest" which was very popular in my childhood despite being published in 1847.  I had thought this was due to Churchill and McMillan's interest in restoring a quasi-feudal society in the UK.  Rather than denying this theory, noting that the BBC last televised it in 1998 makes me reassess Tony Blair's intentions.

It appears that Ms Cambridge provided a third generation of succession about 4:30pm yesterday.  Sky News was full of it (idiomatically, Sky News is usually "full of it" but this was specific not a scatological geeralisation).  It would have been fun to see how conflicted they'd have become if the event had coincided with the finish of Le Tour!  The masses – OK a bit of a crowd – were gathered out the front of Buck House, presumably to read the notice because there was nothing else to see.  I have just watched a guy from a ceramics company talking about all the sales they are expecting.  Apparently it will take them 4 days to get all the stuff made and distributed with the name etc.  So we may be able to find the Engraved Gazunder before we leave

This morning I went for a run around the whole of Selsey.  (In a cryptic crossword, the word 'whole' would be preceded by “sounds like”.)  After getting up to the main street I took off to look at the holiday park area.  There are at least 4 Parks and the one I ran through (West Beach) seemed from a map to have some 1,000 chalets.  This makes sense of the information sign suggesting that the population of Selsey at 12,000 in Winter doubles in Summer.  While it is very much the sort of place we avoid like botulism (although I didn't find the mini-golf I am sure it was in there somewhere) there was at least a reasonable amount of turf between them, unlike the Butlins Camps of the 1950s and 60s which were modeled on 1940s camps (in Eastern Europe).

When having a whinge one should never reject targets because they are too easy.  Yes, I am going to give British Telecom a serve.  I looked up the phone book to find the overseas access code when calling from the UK.  I am told to check on line – great if I had internet access in this country (at less than the £4 a day which BT charge).  Then I could buy – like spoilt kids in Africa, telcos are always crying “Give us money” - a book!  Or I could ring them – at premium call rates to find out.  I took a guess at 0011.

The weather looked reasonable so we decided to:

1. go to the New Forest for a look round; and
2. do a load of washing.  

In fact we did 2 before 1 and while waiting for the machine to finish its stuff went and sat above the shingle.  We observed the meeting of the mass of dog owners 

which was most amusing: the owner of the fox terrier was heard to say that the way his dog pounces on its ball indoors has worn out the carpet.  Just imagine such behaviour from a small terrier.

Moving East to see if there were any interesting birds around we spotted this small trawler coming in.  

It would appear the fisherperson had been chucking guts etc overboard.  When he landed he had two largish boxes of skate bits, which I reckoned to be worth about £100.  Not a great return if he been far out or for very long.

Heading off we zipped along the A/M 27 and M271 and first stopped in Lyndhurst.  This is described as a pretty village in the Forest.  Which it is.  The only problem with this is that two A class roads meet there and as a result it is clogged with traffic.  

What it will be like in a couple of weeks when the holidaying hordes really kick in is beyond belief – and possibly beyond imagination.  From our view the best thing was grabbing some brochures about the area (noting how astonishing it was to have to pay for parking at the Information Centre) which suggested – as well as a lot of retail opportunities - a visit to the Church of St Michael and All Saints.

This pub sign on the way to the Church was the most amusing I noticed while in the UK:

There were two excellent + things about this church:

• Much of the design and glass were by prominent pre-Raphaelites (and I m sure you remember them from Brum);

• An Alice Hargreaves (nee Liddell) is buried there.  She was the catalyst for Alice in “Through the Looking Glass” and “Alice in Wonderland”.

As well as her grave – a simple monument made very picturesque by the rose bushes –

 I had already taken a photograph of this memorial plaque

not realising the guys commemorated were her sons.  She seems to have been a very active and respected member of the local community.

We then headed off towards Beaulieu to a birding spot recommended in my birding guide.  We were barely out of town before finding our first New Forest ponies.  

On my childhood visits, accompanied by an equiholic cousin, I seem to remember having great trouble finding any ponies.  Today they were everywhere, including the place we stopped to go for a walk: as they seemed to be looking longingly at our baguette we didn't get out until we had finished eating.  It was a lovely walk adding a few species of bird (including Stonechat) to the trip list and getting good snaps of a few of the flowers in the heath.

The forest was also very appealing.

 Here we have a carollic image including both holly and ivy!  Possibly they can be regarded as both well grown.

We then rumbled off to Beaulieu where handing over gelt seemed to be required to do anything. We didn't wish to go to the Motor Museum (a working racetrack, or display by a bunch of enthusiasts is one thing but handing out our hard-earned to look at a static collection is very different).  So we moved on, stopping briefly at a small church in Exbury which had a couple of interesting memorials.  We had never heard of this GG of Australia!

The kneelers were also interesting as the first example of this form of community art seen on this trip.

These ponies seemed undisturbed by the distant industry (nor by the dog being exercised in the background).   
I commented on our last trip that the definition of a National Park in the UK is very different to Australia: whole towns are within the Park as are farms and  recreational activities.  (I'd love to see the Head Canophobe from the NSW National Sparks and Wildfires Service react to a dog running around near iconic wildlife!  A defibrillator would be needed.)  Our final pause was a beach at Lepe where we took a hazy image – the camera doesn't lie – of the Isle of Wight.

We then headed off through some very, very confusing signs which I got wrong a couple of times, to the M27.  Our final destination for the day was a site marked as RSPB on our road atlas but try as we might we couldn't find the place.

So we went home for a cleansing Ale or, in Frances case, cider.  My ale was the third sample from Arundel the dark and stronger (5.5%) Old Knuckler: this was a very chewy and complex dark ale indeed.  Well done that brewer!  After this we toddled off to the Seal Pub (in the Good Beer Guide) for tea.

I was initially put off by being asked if we had a reservation, but then things settled down and we had an excellent locally caught crab salad, washed down with a pint of Hophead beer (from Brighton, so nearly local).  It was quite obvious why it is called HOPhead!

Bird of the Day:  Stonechat

Building of the day: Church of St Michael and All Saints

Garden of the Day:  Alice in Wonderland's grave

Bad taste of the Day: The traffic in Lyndhurst

View of the Day: Most parts of the New Forest

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July 27 The reason for this expedition.

A walk from Diddlebury and a wedding.  (The latter rather than the former being the reason for the trip.)

For some reason I had a really crappy nights sleep.  No idea why but I survived the day OK so, to quote Buddy Holly, I guess it doesn't matter anymore.  Here are a couple of images of Tugford Farm where we are residing for the next week.  For some reason our car is parked in front of the other cottage!

The place was very comfortable and the hosts excellent.  Strongly recommended

Once we were awake and breakfasted we took off on a reconnaissance for the wedding we were attending in the evening (which is mainly why we were in the UK and certainly why we were visiting Shropshire).  Wyndham had offered two routes from Tugford to Henley Farm:

•  the easy one (to the main road and then to Craven Arms and then on the A49 to the sign posts to Acton Scott); or
•  the shorter and more scenic route the locals would take.  When I asked him to describe it, it was something like “Turn left out of the gate, take the next right then next left then third right, next left next right which gets you to the main road where you go straight across, next left, second …... “. 

I thought that particularly with a couple of beers under my belt the easy option was definitely the go, so we tried that out, using instructions Hilary-the-Bride had sent for getting to the venue from Church Stretton.  With one slight hiccup (which was my fault) they worked well, and we found a slight short cut for  approaching from Craven Arms.

On the way home we stopped at Craven Arms to snap the pub 

and what we thought was a War Memorial but was in fact an ornate mileage sign. 

A work of art seemed to celebrate sheep but we have yet to establish why that is so. 

I have since found a blogpost referring to creation of the sculpture in 2004-05, and Google suggests there was an important sheep market in the town in the past (perhaps it still happens).

We then parked in the Sun pub car park in Corfton to do a walk.  The total walk in our big book was 10km which we thought too much but I found an extract of it – about 5km which looked quite interesting.  I rated it OK as a walk because most of it was in farmland giving an up close look at smoe sheep - perhaps the Clun Forest breed which originates in this area.

They had all been tupped (or so I assess from the blue marks) which wasn't bad going given only 36 days of declining day length, given that 21 such days are required to initiate oestrus.

The Diddlebury Common, which I had expected to be heath was in fact a wood – on a damn steep hillside.  

So very few wildflowers were seen and even less birds (apart from a pair of buzzards near the start which I suspect were (or had been) nesting). 

There were some good views from the high points but there was a lot of haze, suggesting the forecast of rain later was on the money.  It was interesting that the right of way cut across a field of wheat rather than going around the edge.

On getting back to the pub,

which is also the site of the Corvedale Brewery we repaid them for the parking facility by having  couple of small glasses of their product.  These were.

•                     Dark and Delicious which is a dark bitter and very potable; and

•                     Norman's Pride, a fuller bodied bitter.

One wall of the saloon bar was covered with awards the brewery had won.  Given that it is a tiny brewery based on the pub they have done very well.

After changing into a suit and tie for the ceremony we toddled back to Henley Farm.  This is the lane to Diddlesbury

and this one is the A49. 

The difference is not great!  The instructions concluded with “go though the green gates”. This would normally mean go though the gap which is created when the gates are opened” but in this case the gates were shut (unlike for our rehearsal this morning).  Fortunately Frances spotted another opening a bit further along the paddock.  This enabled us to walk past the rent-a-dunny (sorry, luxury toilet).

There was then a period of milling around chatting to folk we hasn't seen for quite a while and taking official photos.  The ceremony started – and I noticed clouds building over Wenlock Edge so I suggested to Frances that we get seats near the marquee.  About 20 minutes into the proceedings and the sky started to emulate the Friesian in the adjoining paddock

so the tent was occupied rather quickly.  After picturing the bride's siblings

my camera battery ran out so you are saved any more images of the event.   We ended up sitting surrounded by members of the UK contingent and very pleasant and interesting folk they were.  However I couldn't do any serious drinking – driving along wet English roads with a skinful is not at all a good idea.  Taken in conjunction with my RS previous night's sleep we left proceedings fairly soon after the speeches concluded and before the dancing started.  It appeared that the music was to be supplied by some live musicians – not, unfortunately, by a group with a name such as the Molecatcher's Ferret. 

During the evening I had a couple of pints of Shropshire Gold Ale (served somewhat warmer than would be tolerated in Australia) which was a very pleasant standard (3.8%) real ale but had moved on to water by the time we left! As had the weather.

Bird of the Day: Buzzard above Corfton

Building of the day:  Tugford Farm Cottage

Garden of the Day: None seen.

Bad taste of the Day: Weather in the evening

View of the Day:  From the high point on Diddlebury Common

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