9 October 2016 - Colliers Hotel, Warwick Way, Victoria, London

Here we are ready to leave this wonderful little country, ancestral home to both of us by varying degrees. We have dined well and Chris has made his farewell calls to his siblings. Tomorrow we will leave the bags at the hotel until mid-afternoon when we will return to collect them, trundle everything along to Victoria Station and travel on the underground to Heathrow via South Kensington. By Wednesday afternoon we will be back in New Zealand ready to sort out our lives there.

Our last full day in London has been absolutely marvellous. We sat over breakfast as much as one can sit over toast and jam and instant coffee and a full house suggesting the next folk might like to either share or take your table. Then we sat on our bed for a couple of hours and watched the Sunday political commentary programmes that we have come to enjoy whilst here in the United Kingdom. We will miss the hurley-burley of the politics; they have been both entertaining and educational during this last six months.

Then we set off as we have every other morning, albeit much later, stopping by the Tesco Express to buy our sandwiches and joining the underground at Victoria. Today, still the weekend, the lines were again in chaos, and we had to disembark at Embankment rather than Temple to follow our plan. The Plan turned out to be a fizzer anyway because the wonders of the Temple area, the old law university area, are no longer to be found, or at least by travellers such as ourselves. The fascinations promised in our Rough Guide are either all redeveloped or misunderstood. Perhaps we should have done more research before setting off, however we did get plenty of exercise walking along the bank of the Thames, and up and down the avenues and lanes in the Temple area, then back to the underground after sitting by the river dining au Tesco and people watching. 

Back on the train, we headed through to South Kensington and retraced our steps of yesterday to the Royal Albert Hall, too early in normal Clarke style. We sat on a rail in Kensington Park watching a dozen or so squirrels scamper about in the first of the autumn leaves, gathering nuts for their winter store.

In due course, we crossed the road and entered the hallowed temple of the Royal Albert and joined the other five thousand or so doing the same. What a treat we had; the bonus of Beethoven’s 5^th Piano Concerto followed by the Symphony No 9. I was unfamiliar with the first work and so did not enjoy it as much as I might have otherwise, but I say that only when I compare it with the Symphony which was just fabulous. The choir of  seventy odd  was stupendous and we left just buzzing. What an afternoon! The Hall is an absolutely beautiful building which added to the experience. 

Now late afternoon and the streets wet with rain fallen during the concert, we made our way back to the Underground, which was at least as busy as yesterday. Leaving Victoria Station on foot, we checked restaurants we knew of; an Indian, an Italian, both closed for the day, then a Thai too expensive and settled for the Willow Walk, a pub near the station which operates under the Wetherspoon franchise. There we had an excellent meal for a very fair price, good service and did not have an argument about the “optional” service fee.

And so here we are at the end of our trip; rather sad, but happily we can say, we’ll be back!

8 October 2016 Colliers Hotel, Warwick Way, Victoria, London

Queuing for Westminster Abbey

Our last days in Suffolk were spent on schedule, and the transfer of the caravan to its temporary home up near the Thetford Forest without event, although we remembered a couple of minor points the next day and communicated these to Chris’s brother John who considered these more important than we did. As a result he was to have travelled up there today to right the matters, hopefully in our car which we left in his care, with a tank full of fuel and repairs to be carried out in our absence.

The last night in Suffolk was spent at Margie’s residence, our luggage filling her compact house and our bodies, her little spare bed. The last supper was a shared feast of fish and chips with John, the four of us struggling to consume an order which would have fed a boatload of refugees as well as our little family. In the morning Margie drove us down to the railway station at Stowmarket and we travelled through to Ipswich, then changed to a smarter train through to Liverpool Station here in London. There we lugged our four heavy pieces of luggage through to the Underground and travelled the last leg through to Victoria Station, then walked to our hotel dragging our bags behind us, massive packs on our backs .

I had been dreading the trip, remembering a similar route last year when we left our hired motorhome near Upminster, and travelled by train through to the same area. Then we had to stand with our luggage for the entire trip, and then found the transfers at the stations complex because of construction works. For me it had been a gruelling exercise hence I was delighted with the better experience last Thursday.

Black & Blue at Somerset House

Yesterday we set out to explore Westminster Abbey, one of the London must-dos that we had avoided on previous visits, mainly deterred by the price, especially since so much of London can be seen for free and an Oyster card.

Courts of Justice

The Abbey Church of Westminster was consecrated in 1065, and the following year Edward the Confessor was buried there. It became the resting place of most English Kings and Queens, from Henry VIII in 1509 to George II in 1780. Thirty nine English sovereigns have been crowned here, and since 1919, the Abbey has been the setting for a number of royal weddings, including that of the current Queen and her husband in 1947.

We travelled with thousands of underground commuters from Victoria Station to Westminster, then joined a relatively short queue outside the Abbey’s entry before the 9.30am opening time. We were soon in and armed with our audio guides, and within half an hour moving around the prescribed route through the abbey at snail’s pace, pressed up against hundreds and hundreds of other tourists, most on guided tours.

The interior of the structure is quite superb; ornately decorated and well maintained, and littered with hundreds of effigies and tombs, memorials and plaques of royals, poets, scientists, military and miscellany. Beyond the main structure of the abbey, the chapter house and cloisters disappointed; we have been spoiled with better examples of greatness. We also remarked that without the audio guides, it would have all just been a confusing jumble; there is little in the way of interpretative panels. But we were very glad we had bothered to visit, because the Abbey is, after all, a very important part of England’s history.

Westminster Parliament; an interesting backdrop

From here we made our way to Trafalgar Square, now a familiar spot to us, and found a semi-sheltered spot from the light rain, sheltered enough to eat our lunch and from which to watch the busy-ness about us. Then we headed east along the Strand until we reached Somerset House. Here can be found the Courtald Art Gallery, which we left unvisited for now, but we did enter into the central courtyard where we found forty nude black male figures arranged in neat rows. This is part of the Contemporary African Art Fair currently being celebrated. Zak Ove’s sculptural installation is titled “Black and Blue: the Invisible Man and the Masque of Blackness”. We were ignorant of the work’s title when we saw these, or of any underlying story, but were most impressed. I was rather disappointed to learn they are only temporary and an example of the variety of work and exhibitions installed in this space from time to time. Perhaps if we return next year to check out the Courtald Art Gallery we will see yet another wonder?

Our next little bonus was further down the road where I wanted to check out the law court precinct. I had seen this from a sightseeing bus eight years ago, having been entranced by the ornate walls and buildings. The gates were clearly private, or for authorised folk only, however we came upon the Great Hall of the Law Courts, and made our way in through the security then wandered about this grand interior which is point of access to all the law courts. The Hall is 238 feet long, 48 feet wide and 80 feet high, with a mosaic floor in Italian marble and high Gothic arches. There are apparently a thousand rooms in all and several miles of passageways, but we did not venture beyond the Hall. It was opened in 1882 by Queen Victoria. 

The Jewel Tower

We had found a little restaurant up the road from the hotel serving a set menu for early diners and dined there on the Thursday evening. Last night we dined at a pub found last year when we stayed in the same street. Speaking of which, our hotel this year is just metres up the street from the Blair Victoria which we had found below par, although one should always remember that you get what you pay for. The Colliers Hotel is also run by sub-continental Asians, the breakfast room staffed by EU citizens, friendly girls who spend most of the time chattering in Romanian or Russian or whatever. We elected to take a room on the second floor of the hotel, with views out over the back of tightly terraced houses and a double bed. The bed is comfortable and bug free, the bathroom plumbing works and we can make ourselves cups of instant coffee or tea; what more could one want?

Today, Saturday was another brilliant day in London. The star of the day was a guided tour round Westminster Palace aka Parliament, a tour we had booked and paid for some time ago. We would have preferred to have attended Prime Minister’s question time, however as “foreigners” not enrolled in any UK voting electorate, would have been hard pressed to have found our way into the public gallery. It seems that this is quickly filled by special guests of one’s local MP, and then such spaces are very limited. Attendance to the more regular question times or normal parliamentary sessions are more open to the general populace, but again require patience and much queuing. And for now anyway, Parliament is not in session, the government not returning until next week after an arduous party conference week in Manchester. For now we were content to join the paying tourists and after being frisked and scanned, the former a rather pleasant experience if you are of a sensual nature, we were allowed through into the public area of the parliament precinct where we were scooped up into the tour. Being super punctual, even tediously too-early types, we were moved to an earlier tour which was to our advantage; guide Jacky was absolutely brilliant! 

Obviously tourists are given access to only selected areas, but surely these were the most grand and most interesting. The tour started as if we were the Queen about to open Parliament for the year, arriving in the Norman Porch, taken into the Robing Room, then through the Royal Gallery, Princes Chamber and into the Lords’ Chamber, the equivalent of the Senate in say, Australia, then through various lobbies and committee rooms to the Commons Chamber, and on back to the Great Hall where we had started our tour.

The Palace of Westminster originally formed the main residence of kings and queens of England from the reign of King Edward the Confessor (1042 – 1066) to about 1512 when the royal residential area was destroyed by fire during the reign of Henry VIII. St Stephan’s Chapel survived the fire and became the home of the parliamentary structures that rose and fell during the subsequent years.

The Chapel underwent many changes and was almost completely rebuilt after a devastating fire in October 1834. Then architects were invited to offer plans for a completely new parliament, following either Gothic or Tudor styles. Sir Charles Berry won the competition and supervised its construction until his death in 1860. The famous Augustus Pugin, whose name has popped up time and time again as we have visited grand estates about the country, designed the interior fittings and furnishings, and the elaborate decoration seen today is all due to his flair and talent.

Alas, the Blitz of 1940 saw damage to the now not so new structure, particularly to the Commons Chamber and adjoining lobby, as well as other lesser areas. Sir George Gilbert Scott was engaged to undertake the restoration, however he decided on a much more simple style, which served to contrast with the more ornate Lord’s chambers.

The medieval remains of the Palace include Westminster Hall, started by King William Rufus, son of The Conqueror and he who was shot “accidentally” in the New Forest. King Richard II completed the Hall in the mid-1300s. It was interesting to read that in 1913 a roof inspection revealed alarming damage caused by death watch beetles. The insects had created huge cavities inside the timbers, some large enough for a man to crawl inside. To avoid destroying the entire roof, the architect of the Office of Works, designed steel supports that fitted discreetly into the arches, invisible from ground level. Only 10% of the timbers were replaced and the 600 year old roof was saved.

Prince Albert Memorial

We spent just over two hours about the parliament and then only saw the most ornate areas, but felt it had been money well spent, albeit £21 each.

There had been showers during the morning, but they stayed away while we dined in the grounds of the English Heritage managed Jewel Tower before entering the three levels open to the public. The Jewel Tower was once part of the Palace of Westminster, but stood far enough away and upwind to avoid the flames of the first fire. It was designed as a private treasury and housed plate, clothing and other treasures for the kings until 1621 when it became storage for parliamentary documents alone. In 1869 it became the centre for the Board of Trade’s Standards Department, which tested standards of weight and measure, until the late 1930s when traffic was causing too much vibration. The Standards office moved out in 1938, bringing to an end the Jewel Tower’s use by institutions of government after nearly six hundred years.

The discovery and subsequent exploration of the tower was a bonus, mainly providing a pleasant spot to lunch, however on leaving, we had to agree that as a museum, it was pretty poor and not worth the entry fee.

Royal Albert Hotel

We returned to the Underground Station, and took the train through to South Kensington, along with five thousand others packed on to the same train. Well, perhaps that is a slight exaggeration; however the Circle line was out of action today for maintenance, so there was extra pressure on the District line, and half of London was out and about travelling to various points on that line. We were packed in like sardines, breathing in tightly to allow everyone be kept safely within the carriage as the doors shut, then all spilling out each time the doors opened at a station.

Alighting near the museums, we walked up Exhibition Avenue toward Kensington Park, then westerly until we reached the Royal Albert Hall to collect the tickets for the Beethoven concert tomorrow. What a glorious building this is! And here I can only speak for the exterior because any views of the interior as we made our way through to the box office was obscured by the press of theatre goers enjoying the interval.

The concert hall was opened by Queen Victoria in 1871 and today is famous for holding the annual Proms concert, and has been since 1941. Apparently it has a capacity of up to 5,272 seats; I am looking forward to seeing that for myself.

We wandered right around the exterior, admiring other buildings in the vicinity, not least the Royal School of Organists, and then crossed the road into Kensington Park to inspect a massive gilded monument that could not be ignored. This latter is a memorial to Victoria’s beloved Prince Albert, and to a man who did have some vision for science, commerce and industry.

It was just along from here in Hyde Park, in the area which is now sports fields and this weekend the venue for the Royal Parks Half Marathon, that the brain child of Prince Albert, the Crystal Palace, was erected in 1851 for the Great Exhibition. This is the grand structure which was later relocated to the parklands near the camping ground we stayed at earlier in the year in the suburb of Crystal Palace.

After checking out the memorial, and discovering it to have been designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott, he who many years later was to restore part of the Parliament buildings, I was drawn to take a dozen or so photos. This Gothic Revival monstrosity, standing fifty four metres high, took over ten years to build and cost the equivalent of £120,000 in today’s money. It has been Grade I listed since 1970, so someone will have to keep on paying out for the layers of gold leaf that will forever need work.

Despite the lurking showers, we walked the length of Hyde Park then down to Victoria Station and on to our hotel, checking out various restaurants as we went, but then after a couple of hours rest, returned to Grumbles, the restaurant dined at two days ago.

30 September 2016 - Onehouse Lakeview Camp, Stowmarket, Suffolk

The days have flipped over on the calendar and further arrangements have been made as regards our return home. Storage for the caravan is now sorted although we will not take it up near the Norfolk County border until next Wednesday. Chris’s brother John will take guardianship of the car, but then it is legally his, even if it was us who paid for it and have put the seven and a half thousand miles on the clock since purchase. But some matters will be left in the air; any repair of the car that arises from the computer diagnosis to be done on Monday, and the battle with Vodafone over the cancellation of our data contract are still to be resolved. We may well find ourselves working with the UK Telecommunications Ombudsman on that one! Fortunately we have had experience with such matters although the last such battle was with the Insurance Ombudsman in Australia during the years of our travel there. Beware those who cross us – we can be like terriers with a bone!

Felixstowe beach

Today we took time out from all these tiresome matters to explore a little more of Suffolk, this time the port settlement of Felixstowe. This has been on our to-do list for months, and looked like being left until our return next year. However our busy social and business calendar had space, so we set off with lunch packed in the eski and little touring preparation. Unfortunately the Rough Guide has nothing to say of this seaside gem, and we could only rely on the modest entry in our Suffolk Village book, this about Old Felixstowe.

Felixstowe, with a population of about 24,000 and its surrounding parish sits between the River Orwell to the south and the River Deben to the north. The Port, the largest container port in the United Kingdom, sits on the northern bank of the River Orwell, directly across from Harwich which we visited some months ago.

Willow people enjoying the gardens

We travelled down the A14 which takes traffic straight down to the port, a route we have now travelled from one end to the other. Parking on the sea front was easy and free, facts that endeared us to the place immediately. We wandered along the foreshore, delighting in the regular swish of the waves lapping against the shore. There were people about, but not too many, and while there was amusement park machinery lying idle nearby, only the sea and gulls could be heard. The beach stretches for two miles, broken up with groynes of huge rocks, large enough to hold the sea back from claiming the land, as it has further north on this coastline. 

The town was brought to fame when the German Empress and her children arrived in 1891 to take the waters, those that seep out of the cliffs above the beach. The town grew and more spectacularly, the promenade and granite sea wall were developed, completed in 1904, and with it, the gardens above the promenade. Over time these came to include all sorts of exotic plants, like toitoi, hebe, cabbage trees and flax, all natives to New Zealand pulling the heart strings of nostalgia for me today.

The Felix Hotel

The Edwardian buildings along the shore line are quite lovely; we were particular impressed with the 1903 building once the Felix Hotel, nowadays retirement apartments. High above the sea, we wandered into the commercial shopping area and were duly impressed with the diversity of the retail outlets. It seems that one is better served here in Felixstowe than in Stowmarket, our current local. Chris bought a platter of hot chips and another book to add to our caravan library, and I considered what I might have bought if I were not already considering luggage space and weight.

Short sharp rain showers had been forecasted through the middle of the day and at one point, rain seemed imminent, so we returned to the car, and headed south to the port area where we knew there to be a fort and a lookout point.

The port was founded in 1875 after the great railway developments and the dock has been operating since 1886, now handling 40% of all Britain’s containerised trade. It is also, of particular navigational relevance, the only deep water port between Hull and London.

The lookout turned out to be a space beside the river from where one can see the ships coming and going, and there is no parking fee payable. The headland is a natural reserve, managed by rabbits and other critters, and in the middle of this rather wild area is the fort. I had thought this might be a heap of rocks, a ruin, and Chris thought it to be another Martello tower, such as those that populate this coast.

We were both wrong. Landguard Fort is the site of the last opposed seaborne invasion of England in 1667 and the first land battle of the Royal Marines. The current fort was built in the 18^th century, and modified in the 19^th century with substantial additional 19^th – 20^th century outside batteries. It is managed by the Landguard Fort Trust and comes under the umbrella of English Heritage.

The inner keep of Landguard Fort

The original defences were first built here in 1626 under the reign of Henry VIII. In 1667 five hundred men lead by Captain Nathaniel Darell defeated a much larger Dutch invasion force. Under military control until 1971, the fort is now a scheduled ancient monument and listed building. Remaining today are parts of the fort of 1744 and rebuild of 1875 under Queen Victoria, with additions up to 1950. Extensive renovations were completed in 1998.

We took advantage of the audio guides, and followed the route around the extensive fort, in and out of rooms and tunnels, up and down steps to levels that looked out over the surrounding land and water, and were duly impressed. There is a lot of signage giving long winded explanations of various military installations and history, all a bit much for us who have interest in the overall history, but not the intricacies of the military machinery.

View across the river at Felixstowe Ferry

The afternoon had slipped away within the walls of the fortress, but we were still keen to explore more of the area. We headed north up to Felixstowe Ferry, the tiny settlement on the southern bank of the River Deben, passing through the middle of the golf course nearby, which could well have been hazardous had the many golfers out and about been only as talented as I at the game.

We walked along the raised river bank, up to one of the Martello towers which has been converted to a residential structure, no doubt in Grand Design style. These towers remind me of the Moorish towers that stand sentinel along the southern coast of Spain; I remember them from my months living in Andalusia in the mid-1980s.

Modified Martello tower

Wikipedia defines “Martello Towers” as small defensive forts built across the British Empire during the 19^th century, from the time of the French Revolutionary Wars onwards, most being coastal forts. They stand up to twelve metres high, with two floors and typically garrisoned one officer and between fifteen and twenty five men. Their round structure and thick walls of solid masonry made them resistant to cannon fire, while their height made them an ideal platform for a heavy artillery piece, able to be revolved. (Thank you, Wikipedia.)

Here at Felixstowe Ferry, one can cross the river on a small on-call craft for the sum of £2 one way, or £3 return. All you have to do is pick up the white bat hanging on the pier and wave it vigorously. Is the boatman watching out for this every minute of every day? 

By the time we tore ourselves away from this charming spot, the afternoon was closing in and we feared the traffic load on our return. Instead of calling into the Country Park at the base of the Orwell Bridge as I had wanted, we joined the late Friday afternoon traffic and headed home.

We have social engagements lined up, more dinners and lunches out at pubs with family, and afternoon teas to be had, but first of all, I am keen to see Chris shed a cold or man-flu that he fears he has. This we do not need!  

25 September 2016 - Onehouse Lakeview Camp, Stowmarket, Suffolk

The beautiful weather has continued despite the negative forecasts. The last two days have followed our plan of preparation and organisation, yesterday morning spent supping cups of coffee with Chris’s brother who offers much practical advice and mentoring, then a few hours at Ickworth, the fourth or fifth visit to this wonderful National Trust property. Like our previous two visits, this was all about the opportunity to exercise the limbs and breathe in the fresh air. The walk we chose to take was the 6.4 kilometres Rotunda Walk with the add-on through Lady Hervey’s wood which must have been at least an additional kilometre. It was so lovely to be out stretching the legs; a few days of no walking seizes the joints up when you get past a certain age. 

The park was very busy, the car parks already full and overflowing when we arrived and two hours later spilling beyond the overflow car parks. We were happy to escape the crowds concentrating on the heritage buildings and formal gardens, although our passage through the walled garden, still full of wild flowers ,as less so, and beyond, we came upon very few fellow walkers.

Blackberry eater

Instead we enjoyed the unkempt apple trees, the last of the blackberries, the bright red berries of the hawthorns and the holly, the first of acorns and browning leaves littering the ground. We came upon a wee mouse which might have been a wood mouse although neither of us are experts on rodent identification. Amazingly I did not scream and run as is my normal response to mice sightings but was instead quite entranced by the little creature as it concentrated on its feast of fallen blackberries.

The map had suggested the route would take us across more open grazing land than wooded area so we were duly delighted. Ickworth has over 600 acres of woodland, approximately one third of the entire estate. This represents the largest area of National Trust woodland in the east of England, making up 1% of the entire Trust’s woodland space.

Trees already nude of their leaves

This morning we set off late after tuning into the regular Sunday political commentary, particularly interesting today after the results of yesterday’s election result: Jeremy Corbett has been unsurprisingly re-elected to the leadership of the UK’s Labour party.

Our expedition today revolved around research of possible storage for our caravan. Given that ideas already on the table include the possibilities of mice with an appetite for upholstery and electric wiring, we thought more options should be considered. We drove into Bury St Edmunds and checked the exterior of an undercover facility then headed up toward Thetford Forest to check three farm based outdoor storage yards. Further north again we called into the Camping & Caravan Club site which has an off-site storage yard, and then further on again, we tracked down yet another farm up a long very narrow lane accessed by crossing a ford, dry today but suggesting more serious winter time flooding. Enquiries were made where we could and appropriate notes taken, and then we took stock of how far north we had come, now north of the Suffolk County border. 

We headed south out of Norfolk calling into Knettishall Heath, that four hundred acre reserve visited soon after we arrived earlier in the year. Today we set off on foot along a perimeter pathway, across stunted heather covered ground, through mixed wood, pausing by the Little Ouse to watch half a dozen dogs frolicking in a swimming hole, then proceeded upriver a little way before returning to the car. It was not a very long walk, but enough to stretch our legs. We returned with notes scribbled all over our lists of possible storage locations and an extra one hundred miles on the clock. 

Decisions and arrangement have been made in many travel matters, our rail tickets to London purchased but the important of storage is still to be settled.