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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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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General stuff

This page is odds and sods which I think are interesting but can't work out where else to put them.

This page has some interesting insights into English society.  Having gone to University in Kent and worked (aka slaved) in Sussex just before I saw the light I suspect the author is a bit too focussed on the area around London rather than the rustic denizens of the area.  But then it is possible that things have changed a bit in the last 39 years!

Election issues

Of course we will be visiting the country fairly soon after their 2010 election.  Dare one say the first of their elections in 2010?  At the time of typing this (11 may 2010) no-one seems to have a clue what the heck is going on! As usual Private Eye seems to have been on the look out for cock-ups!  I can see that I will be buying a few souvenir copies of 'The Eye' if it is sold in the hinterland!

By 13 May everything seems to have calmed down with the Conservatives  and Lib-Dems now firmly declared as "new-best-friends-forever'.

Plus ca change seems to apply.  In the last couple of days (early June) a Lib-Dem minister has quit due to him paying his male partner for a flat and then claiming this as an expense.  His replacement has also turned out to have had dodgy financial dealings!

Cost of living

One of the most vivid memories of my migration to Australia in 1970 was how cheap everything was.  Many things in Australia were same number on the ticket but it was $ per kilo rather than Stg per lb (in effect things were 4x the price n the UK,
 
The two particular products I will be looking at will be real ale and petrol.  I have got a fair amount of info about the price of petrol In Australia and will be investigating the price of beers in some detail.  I expect to complete a page about prices of beer and petrol.

Oil spill
There has been obviously much in the media about the size of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.  One website has come up with an innovative way of presenting this in ways that people not familiar with the Gulf region can comprehend.  In essence they had mapped the boundary of the slick and developed a small application (in Google maps methinks) to move it to another location.  The following image shows it moved to a map centred in Westminster UK.

During our visit;

I didn't really get into the print media while we were in the UK.  I purchased a Daily Mail the day after England departed the World Cup ( covered in a daily post).

At one point bought a copy of The Times to find out what the thinking Pom is considering these days.  In brief the thinking Pom either:

• is thinking about celebs and their (or anyone else's) chest size; or
• has vanished from the face of the Earth; or
• now reads The Independent!  In that regard I note that Aldaily has stiffed the Times but continues to carry the Independent.

I would not dream of suggesting that this has anything to do with the Thunderer joining the Murdoch stable.

The electronic media were initially obsessed with the Russian Spy saga (especially Anna Chapman for some reason  note bullet 1 above).  They, and the print media, then reduced coverage of that story and became obsessed with the unfortunate Raoul Moat.

All of this must have poetry to the ears of the Government as it completely overshadowed discussion of the Lib-Dems issues in dealing with a trivial little issue such as a complete overhaul of the British voting system (they are trying to emulate Australia but I fear will end up achieving Italy with several hundred candidates for dogcatcher, let alone MP).

25 June: Heading for Norfolk

Some places on the far side of the Pennines.  This may be a sacrificial lamb if things get out of kilter earlier in the week.

25 June was a transfer day. We left Ingleby at 7 (having taken some photos of the garden and the fantastic avenue up the drive).


We then battled the road “works” (no-one was in sight, let alone working) on the A19 and on down the A1(M), M622, M18 and M180. The only notable sight on this stretch was the number of power stations in South Yorkshire: if they are coal fired the place is climate change hell, if nuclear, I am glad we didn't stay there, and am sorry I didn't get a few DNA samples from the locals for later study.

After this stretch of easy driving we turned on to the A15 for a drive down to Lincoln. This is a two lane road with continual heavy traffic. No wonder it is a casualty red spot. After an our we got to Lincoln where the cathedral stood out from afar. Parking was easy to find (and compared to York modestly priced.)

The cathedral was magnificent both in terms of architecture and information. They also were not fussed about photographs being taken so I took a few. The wood carvings were by William Fairbank and the pots/candleholders by Robin Welch. The latter are apparently at the technical limit of what can be achieved on a potters wheel.

Much of the stained glass was glorious. I was particularly taken by that in the chapter house which told the story of the Cathedral. My best image was that of the roundhead soldiers attacking the Cathedral. The most colourful pane 'in life' was of the Great Fire which trashed much of the building in 1142. In image it was naff, so you won't get to see that. One set of chapels are devoted to services and included memorials to people killed in the Indian Mutiny and the South African War (aka the Boer War?)

An interesting aspect was the material about the Lincoln Imp.  This was a small carving depicting an evil imp.  As far as I could work out, the chief challenge was being able to spot ut without detailed directions.  We and others when we were there failed.  With directions it was merely interesting to try to work out why one had bothered.  It's better to see an image of the cathedral towers.

The only annoyance about the place was a gardener using a motor mower in the cloisters. This totally stuffed our peaceful cup of coffee. Probably it was more than his job's worth to come up with a quieter alternative.

We found our way out of Lincoln and headed for Norwich(ish). In Kings Lynn we took a pause from the heavy traffic on carriageways designed for drays, and entered our first Tescos. What a horrible place, especially compared to the peaceful Sainsburys in York. It is hard to put my finger on what was bad, but everything seemed garish and tawdry: rather like a Lowest Common Denominator exemplified. It was also crowded and I will blame Tescos for most everything wrong with the UK (except the genetic defects induced by nuclear power stations).

Moving on down the A47 we found that Ripon was only a practise run for Dereham in the matter of bad signage. (see a couple of day's time for more on Dereham's signs.) We got to Norwich when we didn't expect to and fought our way back to Wymondham and thence to Wicklewood where we met up with Mary and have now established base camp 2 at the Coach House.

26 June: Norwich and Wymondham

Transit from Yorkshire to Norfolk.  Probably call in to Lincoln and Peterborough Cathedrals en route.

Obviously that lead-in was superceded as we did that yesterday.

After a good sleep my day started with a walk to the Church. This included three additions to the trip list (now 74 sps). The church was quite small and plain but had memorials from the 18th century (one of the local documents talked about there being two churches until the 14th century, so it was seriously old). The most attractive feature was an array of embroidered kneelers.

The first external business of the day was to visit Wymondham, the biggest village in the area. A music festival was happening there and Saturday morning's activity was a school band performing in the market square. They were a school band, and sounded better when a bit further away. We then found our way to the Abbey. This had been an abbey and a church in combination, but following the dissolution of the monasteries the Abbey had been demolished and only the church was left. It was quite an extraordinary building:

• the ceiling was supported by angel buttresses (that were very resistant to being photographed);
• a very ornate altar screen had been built; and
• a sign set into the floor mentioned services being held there for more than 900 years.

The next stop was Norwich where Frances toddled off to the Cathedral and I went to search for an internet cafe. Both were successful after initial frustration at finding all the car parks were full.

The 'cafe' was in the Library and was very effective. I was able to check emails (finding out that Australia had a new Prime Minister) but since I didn't want to put my pendrive near a public computer, not upload anything to the blog. I had gathered the impression from the Biking Birder blog (a guy trying to visit every RSPB Reserve within a year, by bike) that libraries were the go. This library was in the Forum - a huge building for community use, financed from lottery funds in about 2000. As well as the library the ground floor seemed to be in use as a speakers corner where every left wing “human conscience” group in the area had a stall! Even someone selling the Big Issue!

Then to the University of East Anglia to check out the Sainsbury Centre for the Visual Arts. Frances thought this was pretty good but to me it was more or less the Sainsburys emptying out their attic (with, it must be said, some goodies therein) and the alleged curators of the collection refusing to give information about the many works but 'letting the work speak for itself'. Post-modernist crap: wood and stone are pretty silent. From my view the best stuff was a sculptor - John Davies – who had managed to capture the look and feel of the 'living sculptures' found in many tourist sites  (folk imitating the Statue of Liberty etc). Sort of art imitating art.

The next activity was to go back to Wymondham for a beer. Unfortunately, and despite what was said in the Good Beer Guide, the pubs listed in that tome were shut until 5:30. This did mean we had several opportunities to walk past a wedding being held in the Methodist Church. The emphasis on bright colours so evident in Tescos was very present here in the attire of the 'ladies': unfortunately so was the level of taste.

I went for a short stroll round the village before tea. This revealed a huge number of Wood Pigeons (at least 50 in one field) and a surprising number of Greenfinches (4 in a row on a phone line). The windmill was a disappointment as the sails were laid on the ground beside it.

27 June: North Norfolk

This day is to be birding in North Norfolk with Ron Johns.

And a fabtastic (I like the typo so have left it alone!) day it was too.  I think 4 lifers (Bittern, Montagu's Harrier; Bearded Reedling {also known as Bearded Tit by traditionalists and Bearded Parrotbill by my listing software!}; and Dartford Warbler plus a lot more additions to the UK and trip lists.

The religious edifice for the was North Elmham Chapel (or Cathedral,take your pick). It was a ruin, of a stone chapel built on the site of a wooden cathedral. We spent about 5 minutes there on our way to Salthouse.  A bonus from this site was a helpful explanation about the problem of dog poop; which in terms of number of signsn erected on the topic is the major problem afflicting the UK.  The example at these ruins explained that it was about a parasitic infection for grazing sheep.

Before getting to the birding I must comment again on the road signs (or rather the lack of them) around Dereham. Heading North we followed signs happily until we suddenly came to a T-intersection with no signs to anywhere we wished to go. Of course we chose wrong so went about 2 miles out of our way. Heading back South at the end of the day I tried plan B: going through the centre of the town. This meant we went about 4 miles out of our way and required a lot of rules of thumb and prayers to get back on the right side of the A47! UNGOOD.

Once we actually got to Salthouse and met our friend Ron, the day ascended from the pleasant to the excellent.

The first sighting was of a Little Owl which, instead of roosting in a tree 30m off the road, was perched in a dead tree right beside the road. We got stunning views of the lovely little chap.Of course I didn't have my camera ready: instead here is the ultimate picture of a field of poppies (and an incidental old ring roller).

Next target was Montagu's Harrier which Frances was the first to spot as it cruised over the paddocks near its nest site. A truly lovely harrier and we even got to see male and female attempting a food transfer. (Marsh Harriers were more common - at one point 4 were seen in almost a kettle: probably a family.)

After adding Corn Bunting (now an unusual bird in many places) we got to Titchwell RSPB Reserve where many goodies were hoped for. I will start by saying they were delivered in large order. A Bittern was seen flying across the reeds – yes, a good clear view, not a cryptic haystack in the reeds - and a flock of juvenile Bearded Reedlings (or Tits or Parrotbills) appeared for our delectation. Amongst the waders, Ruff in breeding plumage; Spotted Redshank and Black-tailed Godwit (breeding plumage) were highlights.

After lunch (see below) we went to hunt for Dartford Warblers. We got to Kelling Heath - with a lot of blooming heather- and after a few local enquiries (and a phone call or two) a male Dartford was kind enough to present itself for ticking. This was a bird that had apparently adopted a family of Stonechats (also seen and not a bad bird at that). It appeared shortly after a steam train went past and we drew the obvious conclusion that Dartford Warblers can be attracted by imitating steam trains!

The trip list is now 94 species!

In the matter of beers I was antisocial enough to add a beer to my sandwich at lunchtime. How could one not sup an Oystercatcher Beer on a day's birding? It was brewed in the vicinity of the White Horse at Brancaster Staithe and was very pleasant. Getting back to Wicklewood we attended the Cherry Tree pub, one of two owned by Buffy's Brewery. Several of their brews listed in the Guide seem to refer to psittacoids and I chose a pint of Norwegian Blue. A pleasant taste and a good texture to finish off an excellent day.

After visiting James Cook's birthplace in Yorkshire, today we drove through Nelson's birthplace at Burnham Thope. This village is also known as Chelsea on Sea due to the number of denizens of that Borough who have shacks here. We were told of a place purchased for Stg650k about 4 years ago now being worth Stg2m! Another village with an interesting history was Stiffkey (pronounced Stookey) where the vicar in the 1910s was found to be a little enthusiastic in his assistance to fallen women. After being defrocked (the vicar, not the women, although that was probably where the vicar went wrong) he joined a circus where he was killed by a lion! The pub in the village was, possibly coincidentally, called the Red Lion.

Today was also the day (which the Daily Mirror referred to in a headline as “The Battle of Britain”) when England played Germany in the World Cup. We couldn't gloat to our friends about the result but it was amusing to hear the BBC commentators introduce the story with a rant about a “clear goal” being disallowed and then go on to say how the Germans had outplayed England everywhere. It will be interesting to see how many cars are drivng around with the little flags on, and how many bedroom windows are decorated with the cross of St George today. I might buy a newspaper as a memento mori.

28 June: Bury St Edmunds, Lavenham and Constable country.

Cambridge and Anglesey Abbey

Noo, didn't do that.

Let us carry on where we left off. I acquired a copy of the Daily Mail which had a headline “If The Few had defended the way England did, we'd all be speaking German” and then got a bit critical. The name Douglas Bader was invoked a few times, with the comment that the England goalie didn't have two wooden legs as an excuse! Surprisingly there were still a few flags around today, but nowhere near as many as yesterday! (Note from the future: a few die-hard - or lazy - supporters still had flags up at the end of the trip!)

Our Monday began with a trip to Bury St Edmunds. A nice drive with the end made lively by a truck hiding a crucial sign. At the edge of town was a huge factory area – it seemed to be processing sugar beet. We found a parking area in the historic district (although unlike Europe it wasn't posted as such). The place was beautiful with nice gardens and friendly squirrels.

Adjacent to the gardens were the ruins of the Abbey.  Thank you Henry VIII!


The Cathedral was excellent with much stained glass and lots of carved wood. The ceilings were very colourful and the organ was heading that way, although still being painted. The place was a tad in turmoil as they had had an ordination of deacons yesterday: the fittings include a lot of TV screens to allow those in the back pews to see the ordination of THEIR person.


We then did a church nearby, with many carvings and the tomb of Mary Tudor. They went to pains to point out who she was (especially that she was neither Bloody Mary nor Mary Queen of Scots, and in addition  that they were two different people!).  Between the Cathedral and the smaller church was an interesting statue.  It turned out to be by Elizabeth Frink, who had created the much patted etc less well clothed persons at YSP.

Next we moved on to another semi-sacred site in the shape of the Visitor Centre for the Greene King Brewery. I got some retail therapy here with a nice polo shirt and a jute bag containing 6 sample beers. I have just had an Old Bob Ale and it was excellent. (From a couple of days later: I have now finished the samples and am ready to recommend elevation of this place to a status of full sacred site. Great stuff: I will wear the polo shirt with pride.)

Next stop was Lavenham. This is a really old town linked to the de Vere family (the Dukes of Oxford etc). Apparently 300 of the houses in the town are heritage listed as well as the Guildhall. The Guildhall was quite interesting with inter alia a display about the family of Jane Turner, who wrote the words for 'Twinkle twinkle little star'. They also had an interesting array of barrels showing that what looked just a bit bigger could be twice the size:

• pin of 4.5 gallons
• firkin of 9 gallons
• kinderkin of 18 gallons and
• barrel of 36 gallons

They didn't look to be doubling in size! Who says this blog is not educational!

We prowled the town a bit and ended in the Church which was rather interesting. Altogether a nice place to visit.

We then headed off to do a walk in Constable country. En route we got to Stoke by Nayland where there was a church with many good brasses. One of these was Catherine Howard (grannie of Anne Boleyn and another Catherine Howard, both wives of Henry VIII) and the other a gent who went to the crusades. Not bad for a small village church!

The Constable Country bit was not too bad. A pleasant walk through some Essex countryside and looking at the frolics of the youth in the hire boats (there is a relevant limeric about tricks, Buckingham and stunts in punts but I cannot remember it all). I have a memory of visiting Flatford Mill in the distant past and being annoyed that some mob of educationalist wankers had hired the Mill so that visiting humans couldn't see it properly. That still applies.

As we walked out on the narrow country lane some goose came by driving an Aston Martin and did a small wheelie. Unfortunately he didn't join the scenery. This did cause me to reflect that he was the third Aston seen on the trip. Also lots of Porsches, one Roller and Mercedes/BMW everywhere. How do the impoverished afford these wheels and why bother, in a country with a 70mph speed limit, to buy a set that will do 200mph? (We confirmed that speeding fines are similar to Australia and 12 points and your license is gone: I can only assume that either

• radar detectors are readily available; or
• a high proportion of punters on the roads are unlicenced.)

The drive home was fine once we had got out of Essex where all street signs were hidden.  I have included the image of the welcome to Essex sign to show that even that message is partly overgrown by the surrounding vegetation.  (When one is keeping up with traffic at 60mph it is positively dangerous to attempt to read a sign of which 90% is behind a vigorous Elm pollard.)

Do not diss Diss: they had great road signs (and cheap petrol) as did Addlethorpe on the A11. The only annoyance of the way home was deciding to go to the Cross Keys pub in Wymondham and finding it still closed. I am reminded of some friends experience in Nyon, Switzerland where on place was referred to as the boulangerie that never opened. So we went back to the Coach House and I drank some Greene King instead – and very nice it was too