30 June 2016 - Chertsey Club Site, Surrey

The Hive

It seems to me, and surely to you, the reader, that this blog is all about the weather, or more particularly, about the rain. It is this that makes England such a “green and pleasant land”, but it does not make it entirely a pleasant land to sightsee in. I woke through the night several times to hear the English rain, and wondered whether there would be respite by dawn, or more correctly, breakfast time. I mention this because dawn occurs here before 5 am and the sun sets after 9.30 am, making for long daylight hours for the birds and those who align their activities with the same. Needless to say, I try to sleep beyond sunrise, and sometimes even before sunset; I am not one to burn the candle at both ends.

By the time we were ready to leave, the rain had cleared away for the morning, and we were soon on the road toward London City, to Kew Gardens, where the tour notes suggested parking spaces were few and encouraged visitors to come via public transport. Given the hassle free journeys of the previous few days, Chris was happy enough to risk yet another city drive, and was soon vindicated. 

We arrived very soon after 9.30am, too early for the Gardens to open, but early enough to choose our own spot in the expansive car park. It seemed that the warnings were scarmongering, and did not prove otherwise later, although we decided that mid-summer holiday visitors may place far greater pressure on the facility. Better still, there was a fixed charge for the privelege of parking, £7 for the day or part thereof. I realise my positive attitude toward this defies my comments made about the parking charge at the Tarr Steps on Exmoor; allow me this change of heart.

The Pagoda

We spent more than six and a half hours at the Gardens, but barely touched the surface. We checked out the Treetop Walkway, opened on International Biodiversity Day in 2008; the 18 metre high, 200 metre walkway high in the tops of lime, sweet chestnut and oak trees in the arboretum between the Temperate House and the lake.  Alas the dozens and dozens of children there today as part of some sort of educational outing had decided to do the same and the noise and crowding spoiled any enjoyment we might have otherwise had.

We checked out The Hive which had warranted a special hand out with our ticket. This is a massive instalment made from thousands of pieces of aluminium which create a lattice effect and fitted with hundreds of LED lights that glow and fade as a unique soundtrack hums and buzzes about one. 

The Treetop entry point

We wandered about the gardens seeking an overview only, as we had booked in for a walking tour, an introduction to Kew Gardens. Our tour guide, a retired teacher, walked us through the highlights of the gardens, and the centuries of history and then left us outside the Princess of Wales Conservatory after one and a half hours. We enjoyed the tour immensely, however we now realised, more than ever, that it would require far more than a full day to do justice to this excellent attraction.

We did however decide to squeeze in Kew Palace, the summer residence for George III, his wife Charlotte and his fifteen children, and refuge when the madness set in in his later years. This was brilliantly presented and curated; we enjoyed this immensely. The King’s kitchens, unearthed within the last decade, were a bonus.

The Palm House

Kew Gardens today cover an area of 300 acres and have the world’s largest collection of living plants. It began as a more modest affair, the site of a royal garden established at the request of Princess Augusta, the mother of George III, in 1759. She and her husband, Frederick, who died before his father, and whose son inherited the crown leaping a generation, lived at Kew next door to Charles II’s summer residence at Richmond. In 1802 George III united the two properties, hence the large acreage. The Palm House, the massive grass construction which dominates the centre of the park, was opened in 1848.

During the Victorian era, and the years before when the likes of Joseph Banks was bringing the wonders of the other side of the world back in specimen jars, Kew Gardens became the depository for plants in all forms. Today, the herbarium, which is the largest in the world, has over seven million preserved plant specimens. The library contains more than 750,000 volumes, and the illustrations collection contains more than 175,000 prints and photographs.

Today it was while we were checking out some of those illustrations, the small proportion on view to the public, that we received a telephone call from Chris’s sister to inform us that their brother, whose birthday party we are heading back toward East Anglia for, had been admitted to hospital. 

Fortunately subsequent calls during the course of the day have allayed our initial concerns, now that we know he is suffering kidney stones, a very unpleasant and painful condition, but in this day and age, easily cured.

Kew Palace

So caught up in our experiences today, we did not return to the car park until almost 4.45pm, a ridiculous time to be considering a drive home in the London rush hour, and sure enough, it took us almost one and a half hours to do a trip that had taken less than half an hour earlier in the day. In all fairness, our Tomtom, for reasons that only she can know, brought us home via the M4, M25 and M3, surely the busiest roads in the UK. To make matters worse, there was an extra holdup caused by a small modern car engulfed in an inferno on the inner lane of the M25. The two young people, who had obviously been in the car, stood dejectedly at some distance, one with a phone to his ear, no doubt begging a parent or friend to come and rescue them. As we passed all too close, I did hope that the petrol tank would not explode; we continued without any such disaster, albeit still caught in slow traffic.

Tomorrow we will head away from London, not too far this time, although none of our moves have been very far. We have booked to stay in Cambridge for the next four days, before pressing on closer to family in Suffolk.

29 June 2016 - Chertsey Club Site, Surrey

We woke to learn there was a weather window of opportunity before midday and so on that positive note, after discounting any full day’s excursion, decided to walk upriver along the tow path to Staines. Setting off across the historic Chertsey Bridge, we soon discovered that the camp is directly across from the Lock. We had noted the weir but not really thought too much about how craft would navigate that obstacle. This lock and the next upstream at Penton Hook are manned by a lock keeper, and the gardens around the little kiosks neatly manicured and a mass of colour. 

The lock at Chertsey

We watched a small launch work its way through the lock, the “hard” work being done by the keeper rather than the captain’s side kick. Navigating through England’s canal system in a narrowboat appeals enormously to us both, however time is forever against us. But then look at Prunella Scales and her husband, Tim West, no longer in their prime, who manage brilliantly despite poor Prunella’s fragile memory. There is hope for us all yet!

For now we enjoyed our walk, sometimes on a very narrow path between high stands of nettles and brambles, beneath willows and sycamore trees, and sometimes along narrow lanes, access to the many lovely homes that line the bank of the River Thames.

Lock & keeper's kiosk at Chertsey

It was about here, a little more than halfway to our destination, that the weather gods threw us a curved ball and unscheduled rain arrived. Fortunately we did have raincoats with us, but we still got uncomfortably wet. But by the time we reached Staines, just under four miles from the start, my jeans had dried and we were fit to be seen in the busy little town, the crowded market and McDonald’s where we enjoyed a coffee, which for Chris always includes an add-on of a small burger of some kind. 

We caught the bus back to Chertsey from Staines, an experience all by itself. Everyone got on at the same time, and everyone looked out for each other as we all shuffled about for those requiring special assistance. This meant several delays along the way, the bus driver told to hold-on-a-minute until we were all resettled. Unfortunately the #446 is not that which crosses the Chertsey Bridge and stops just outside the camp; it is the one that comes down the other side of the river and stops outside Chertsey’s Sainsbury, still almost a mile from camp. However we made the most of the opportunity and loaded up the backback with shopping and then set off on foot again for home, only just beating the scheduled rain. 

View down the River Thames

Fortunately Wimbledon does have three covered courts, so there is still plenty of tennis to watch on the televison. We have the day’s newspaper, full of the fascinating politics of the week and I am still struggling through the book I started when we left New Zealand just over two months ago. The rain has provided us with a silver lining.

28 June 2016 - Chertsey Club Site, Surrey

Hampton Court

Today dawned as brightly as yesterday although we knew this was not to last. Despite a rather later than usual rising, we were on the road very soon after 9am, and found our way through to Hampton Court so very easily. Parking was also a doddle apart from the fact we were not sure how long we needed to enjoy the palace, so decided that six hours should cover all bases. At £1.50 an hour, we thought the required £7.50 rather extreme, but should have been more open minded and paid for a further hour; we did not allow ourselves enough time!

As it turned out we were still a few minutes early, and the second party into the court. We spent our time exploring Henry VIII’s apartments, his court kitchen and the story of a young and happier Henry before he was deranged by injury pain and stress to provide a spare heir to the throne, the Georgian story and the Cumberland Art Gallery, which covered most of the areas open to the public, although the gardens, splendid through the upstairs windows, were neglected much to my disappointment. 

Had we not chosen to attend one of the entertainments, we may have managed to fit everything in, but then an hour spent in an interactive drama, re-enacting the demise of Queen Catherine in November 1541, being part of the Queen’s palace staff caught up in the scandal and subsequent arraignment was absolutely fascinating, and highly entertaining, if such tragedy can be considered so.

Hampton Court was actually built by Cardinal Thomas Wolsey in the early 1500s, he whose statue I encountered in Ipswich many weeks ago. Alas he fell out of favour and his one-time best buddy, Henry VIII seized the palace for himself. Given the turbulent life of that many married monarch, the palace saw great drama, both political and personal, and much of that was relayed to us today via an excellent audio guide.

Substantial alterations were made by William III, over a hundred years later, and King George II was the last monarch to actually reside here. It is a fabulous place and well managed for the tourist trade, and of course we have all seen it in cameos in various movies over the years. I just wish we had allowed ourselves a bit more time!

The rain stayed away long enough for us to travel back effortlessly on these unfamiliar roads in the outskirts of London, and did not bother us until the televised tennis was disrupted at Wimbledon.

27 June 2016 - Chertsey Club Site, Surrey

What a delight to wake to a fine morning, the  birds chirping their happy song and the squirrels running free across the now dry park! We had decided last night that, weather permitting, we would head off to Windsor Castle for the day, and that is what we did, once the lunch was made and the housekeeping done, and once we saw the clock hands pass beyond 9am.

The drive through the morning traffic was uneventful and I realised my concerns were baseless,  especially when we arrived at the outskirts of Windsor village and parked in a Municipal car park, taking our pick of spots. We elected to pay £6 allowing us an excess of five hours, which turned out to be a good choice.

We wandered up through the town, pausing by the River Thames to admire the activity and picturesque scenes, before heading on up to the castle and joining the throngs already queuing. We paid the AOP discounted entry fee of £18.20 each, which at first seemed a bit hefty until we understood the extent of the castle and the costs that surely must be involved in the upkeep.

Windsor Castle is the oldest and largest inhabited castle in the world and has been the family home of British Kings and Queens for almost 1,000 years. It is the official residence of Queen Elizabeth II and is still a very much working royal palace even today in these days when royals are more decorative than functional, and home to about one hundred and fifty people. As such then, it is unrealistic to expect to be able to explore every nook and cranny, and although our exploration took about four and a half hours, it was really only a small part of the whole.

The ostentatiously ornate gilded State Apartments and St George’s Chapel where the remains of ten monarchs are interred are open to public view, as is the Queen Mary’s Dolls’ House, the largest and most famous dolls’ house in the world.  This was built for Queen Mary between 1921 and 1924 as a gift and is incredibly detailed and is a must see for dolls’ house aficionados; we are not and decided the twenty minute queue awaiting entry to visit this was simply not worth it. Hindsight is a glorious thing.

The apartments are every bit as overwhelmingly as I remember Versailles, although that was some time ago and time blurs the detail of memories. However it was the Albert Memorial Chapel that I found just too much, just as we had found The Arab Room in Cardiff Castle. The visitor can only peer into this chapel from behind a rope barrier which is probably just as well. 

Windsor Castle

We visited the Library where there is currently a very good exhibition celebrating the four hundredth anniversary of William Shakespeare’s death, with a slant on the Windsor connection. It is all very tastefully done, although does not necessarily appeal to the average visitor of the castle. 

The Royal Library is based here at Windsor, established by William IV in the 1830s, after previous royal libraries had been given to the nation. It is formed from collections of books by George III at Kew and Windsor, and George IV at Carlton House, and from significant collections of royal books acquired by gift and purchase in the nineteenth century. It now contains over 200,000 items.

Near this is a well displayed collection of china dinnerware, and a tiny shop where one can actually buy similar items. I fell into conversation with the girl behind the counter, marvelling at this little enterprise, and pointing to a vase-like vessel on the shelf, asked the price; a mere £10,000 and it could be mine. This sort of thing just does not appeal to me; its a kind of bling, and I am not a bling kind of girl.

St George’s Chapel is the spiritual home of the Order of the Garter, the oldest order of chivalry in the world, founded by Edward III in 1348. Today the order consists of the Queen, Prince Charles and twenty four knight companions. Interestingly there are twenty four retired officers from the forces living on site who fill in for the real knights during church services and such. Their remuneration for this stand-in service is free rent. The Queen herself only attends the church two or three times a year.

I should mention that the while the Castle survived the war unscathed, it was to suffer greatly fifty years later when a fire broke out in November 1992. The fire quickly engulfed the roof spaces, destroying the ceilings and creating much damage to many of the rich decorations. It took fifteen hours and 1.5 million gallons of water to put it out. The long process of repair and restoration began immediately, at a cost of £37 million, mainly met from the admissions to the castle precincts and to Buckingham Palace. Those in charge of the restoration can be rightly proud of their efforts; had I not known about this, I would never have guessed.

St George's Chapel

Despite any negative comments you might have picked up on, (the fact that I am not a royalist probably accounting for some of that) we loved the castle and were so very glad we had come. After exiting the walls, we decided to check out Windsor Great Park which extends some miles to the south of the castle.  

The castle grounds cover 13 acres but the Great Park covers a further 2,020 hectares. It was for many centuries the private hunting ground of the castle and dated primarily from the mid-13^th  century. 

Today the public can access some of the park but not all as we learned to our peril. We headed down the Long Walk which runs in a long straight line from the castle, all the way to the 1829 Copper horse statue of King George III on top of Snow Hill, a distance of 2.65 miles from the castle gates. We walked about half the distance, down between the avenue of well-established trees, where once there were elms until they succumbed to Dutch Elm disease about thirty or so years ago. This like the fire damage is not at all obvious, although perhaps the avenue was more intimate with three rows of trees on each side in the past, now only having two?

The Long Walk to the Castle

Neither of us felt like continuing on to the Hill to examine the horse further, so Chris suggested we turn left and follow the edge of the park around, so as to enjoy other aspects of the public spaces. Without a proper map, or signage to suggest this was a good or particularly bad idea, I went along with his plan, and we walked, and walked, and walked for miles and miles and miles, never able to cut across the park, and often far out of site of the castle, finally arriving back at the car park where we had left our car. After two hours of walking, I was stuffed, but I never said a word. But I will say now, that if you are using this blog as a guide for your own travel planning, do not turn left at the bottom of the Long Walk when you reach the road; turn right and return back through Windsor, or retrace your steps toward the castle, but not, I repeat, do not turn left.

I was happy for us to head home without further ado, however on the way back, we passed a National Trust sign for Runnymede; another of our hoped for destinations whilst here in London this time around. We pulled into the car park, and I agreed that we should explore this while we were here, but only after we bought an ice cream, at no matter what price, from the tea rooms; a sugar hit might reinvigorate my engine. Magnums were duly consumed while we checked out the narrow boats on the River Thames, before we crossed back over the road and headed for a couple of the memorials.

Runnymede is famous as the meadow where King John sealed the Magna Carta on 15 June 1215. 

Part of our own long walk

There is nothing physical left here, however over the past century several memorials have been erected to celebrate the spirit of the signing. There are two memorials with American links but the most recent is an art work titled “The Jurors”, and installation of twelve chairs, fashioned by Hew Locke, commissioned by the Surrey County Council and the National Trust to mark the 800^th anniversary. The chairs are each decorated with images and symbols relating to past and ongoing struggles for freedom, rule of law and equal rights, an artwork to challenge us to consider the ongoing significant and influences of Magna Carta. This it does, but as far as an artwork sitting in the middle of a weedy field, with a few mown strips to facilitate a visit, and at a cost of god-knows-what, I do wonder. Still it is worth checking out if one is passing by.

But then it really was time to head home, the washing done yesterday was well and truly dry, and dinner needed preparation.