Sunday, November 8, 2009

Eden

The Eden Project is a huge non-profit botanical theme park--
hundreds of acres, thousands of specimens from around the
world, several "biomes" including the largest conservatory
ever built, great contemporary architecture, art and scultpure,
all with an educational and social agenda. Green. We spent
most of the day at Eden, which is west of Fowey, in a
former china clay open-pit mine...talk about reclamation!
It is an incredible display and impressive educational
undertaking. Above, in 2000, the china clay open pit mine,
"England at its rapacious and destructive worst, ripping
both land and people apart, all for the creation of wealth,"
as the project founder said













More recently--since this photo was taken, several new
buildings have gone up and the terraces are entirely
planted-in, with paths, exhibits, etc.









In the rain forest biome, the world's largest conservatory








Lunch, locally-grown pasty and sausages and potatoes, and
cauliflower, and carrots








In the Mediterranean biome, probably the only rhododendrons
I'll see in bloom on this trip








Ice-skating rink; its rationale is a little unclear; the other on-
site sport is rock-climbing on the old mine's walls








In one of the outside biomes, bananas growing in Cornwall,
in November!








From the "core" building, looking back up the mine/canyon
toward the two interior biomes








One of the better and larger gift shops around

Castle Dore


Monday morning we worked our way on down to the
southern Cornish coast, intending to drive out to Land's End,
and then back the north coast. Near the harbor village of
Fowey we stopped at the Iron Age hill fort known as Castle
Dore. All that remains are the bank and ditch and some sense
of size. Castle Dore traditionally is associated with King
Mark and thus with the Tristan and Isolde legend. Given the
Wagnerian associations, I had to see it. Now we have to
look for Tristan's castle in Brittany!







Historical marker











Ditch and bank








Looking across the interior

Lanhydrock, 2009

Our last great house, Lanhydrock, in western Cornwall, was in many ways our best. (All the great houses close by November 1). It is by no means the largest, the most historic, the best art or best gardens. It does have 50 rooms open to the public, more than any other, completely furnished as it was in the high Victorian era, the best kitchen and servants areas we have seen, and a family, particularly in Victorian and Edwardian times, you come to care about. The house itself was begun in the mid 17th century. Most of the furnishings, as I said, are Victorian or slightly later.

Lanhyrock was among the Robartes family's vast holdings, including a great house in London, Wimpole House (our first great house, way back in August), and something on the order of 100,000 acres, with all the usual farms, villages, houses, etc. Cornwall's richest family. By Victorian times, they had gotten into politics, as members of the House of Commons and prominent Liberals, into temperance and social reform. The heir and great hope of the family was "Tommy" Robartes, whom the Conservatives didn't even challenge in elections. Tommy enlisted in 1914, insisted on being at the front lines, and died at Loos in 1915, of wounds incurred in No Man's Land, saving one of his men. Next in line also did not survive the war, and the last brother, Arthur, evenutally donated it all to the National Trust.

The family was devastated by Tommy's death. His rooms were closed and not re-opened until the house came to the Trust in the 1970s. His suitcase appears just as it was when it was returned from France. Sad and moving.

The most impressive room in the house is the great hall, mid-17th century, perhaps 150 feet long, now a library/music/art room, but covered by incredibly detailed vaulted ceiling with reliefs depicting scenes from the Bible.  We were so taken with Lanhydrock that we closed the place, more or less, too late to find any better camping than the local rugby club's carpark.
Sometimes, just getting to a site can be a challenge; here we 
are about to cross an ancient twisty bridge over a serious river; 
the bridge is exactly 7 feet wide; the Grey Wanderer is 6 foot
eight inches, not including mirrors; but we made it







The gatehouse; was the original building, an
Elizabethan hunting "cabin"









Lanhydrock, from the entry gatehouse








Earliest date on the house








In the kitchen area (half a dozen large rooms), the largest
spit we have yet seen...9 feet across








Olympic-sized billiard table








The childrens' rooms were incredible; this is their classroom








About 1/3 of the drawing room








The attached parish church








Formal gardens









More gardens









Family chair from Queen Elizabeth's
coronation












Last of the line



















































































































































Vicki adds:

Swindon, England November 7, 2009

I wanted to tell the story of a woman I met last week in the campground in Plymouth. She was sitting in the bathroom reading when I went to take a shower. Since that is pretty unusual she explained that she was tent camping and it was much warmer to sit in the bathroom plus there was better light. I asked her where she was from and she said Albany, New York. Now I know that most of our friends and relatives think we are terribly adventurous (which we are not really) compared to many others that we meet. This lady was nearing sixty, about 30 lbs heavier than I, single and has been traveling the world for almost ten years. She told me that she had been a medical transcriptionist but upon reaching her fifties found that no one would hire her, so she decided she could live as cheaply traveling as staying put. Early on she carried a backpack and stayed in hostels, but her shoulders won't manage a heavy pack anymore and the hostels have become too expensive. So now she travels mostly by bus with a wheely duffel and stays in campgrounds. She spends her days going on walks that she can reach through public busses.. She had just finished 4 months in England doing most of the footpaths in the two national parks, Dartmoor and Exmoor, in southwestern England and was taking the ferry to Portugal the next day. She spends 3 months a year in Albany taking care of her elderly mother while her sister travels.

Anyway I was just floored. I guess where there is a will, there is a way. But I can't imagine being that adventurous.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Halloween

We were in a real campground Saturday night, Halloween, and alas, there were no trick/treaters to see my marvelous costume. Perhaps I can use it again when we visit Transylvania next year.

"Welcome to my castle, I mean, camper..."

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Still Blooming...

It's November 1st, and as of yesterday, October 31st, all kinds of things are still in bloom all over southern England.

Magnolia









Yucca











Hydrangeas

Fuchsias; a cold front is moving in and
supposed to last for a while, so we'll see
rather few new blooms soon. But it has
been colorful and nice and unexpected
so late in the fall.

Killerton and Saltram

We got an early start Saturday morning, the 31st, and were able to do two great houses, Killereton, near Exeter, and Saltram, near Plymouth. Killerton is late Elizabethan. The building is not very interesting; relatively small, flat-roofed. However, it houses a national garment and costume collection so large that they exhibit only a fraction of it each year, in accordance with a theme. This year's was "working women," so there were all sorts of womens' uniforms, in addition to the evening gowns, undergarments, etc. Of greatest interest to me was one of Queen Victoria's black day dresses. Did you know that she was only four feet eleven inches tall? That in her more advanced years, only four foot eight? Also at Killerton, in the library, was a false-front bookcase--titles like Books Not Worth Reading, Getting Your Words Worth, etc., all in leather-bound, goldleaf, etc.

But the most interesting thing about Killerton was the back-story, how it came to the National Trust. In fact, it was one of the largest gifts ever, the house, grounds, 6,000 acres, including 20 farms and 4 villages. Most of the properties are donated when there is no heir, or no heir the donor likes; or when the owners can't afford the upkeep. Inheritance taxes in the UK in the 1950s reached 80% and are still quite high, compared with the US (what isn't?), and with a low threshold. Anyhow, the Baronet Aclund was a leading socialist, an MP, fell in with JB Priestly and others such, and he and his wife, the Baronetess (?), decided it was immoral for so much wealth to be in so few hands. So they gave it all to the National Trust, retaining only a modest apartment.

At Killerton, a dragon chain-saw sculpture in front of a
beautiful 300 year-old Sweet Chesnut







Killerton House

Killerton grounds

Summer hut, beatiful rustic woodwork









Hut interior










Saltram is a late 18th century house and grounds, best known
for its original furnishings and paintings; its reputation, among
all the great houses, is for its "homey" feel; I guess you have
to be British...

Chinese wallpaper in one of the Saltram rooms









"The Best 1,000 Houses"...why it's so difficult
to see them all...





























Vicki adds:

Plymouth, England October 31, 2009
We have decided to spend tonight in a campground to be sure we aren't the victims of any tricks. Today we managed two great houses in one day only because they were only 1 hr apart and the campground was 2 miles from the second one. It is so strange for it to be getting dark at 4:30 in the afternoon and today was overcast so really even earlier. So far no one has come through the campground trick or treating which is good since we could only given them pence.

We have been trying to get our flu jabs without much luck as the chemists each do them a different day and want appointments. I swear the British have a different term for almost everything—yes, it is easy to figure out that jab means shot and a chemists is a pharmacy, but after a while you get the feeling that they do it on purpose—that whatever the Yanks are calling something, the Brits decide to call it something else!

Tomorrow we have one more great house and that will be the end as the National Trust closes almost all their houses on November 1. It has been great fun and very educational going through them—we will have to make a count, but I would think at least 25—so that only leaves 275 for our next trip.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Montacute

After stopping at a surprisingly large Mega Super Tesco, in surprisingly large Yeovil (ever heard of Yeovil?), we drove on to our house of the day, Montacute, which hosts the National Portrait Gallery collection of Tudor and Stuart portraits. (Montacute: there are some very pointed ("acute") hills nearby.) The House is late Elizabethan, in the Phelips family (briefly, Robert Dudley) for centuries, then last occupied by Lord Curzon, the former Viceroy of India, who was living there with his mistress when he was told, alas, he was not going to be PM. 1920s or so. Very interesting old furniture. The “samplers” on display go back to 1604, lace, embroidery, etc., incredible detail and color preservation. The portraits themselves were of higher quality but less numerous than those at Knole. There was very helpful narrative with each, however. We drove on, as the sun set, toward our next house, Killerton, and parked in a nearby village, on the outskirts of Exeter, in a designated parking place near a school, seemingly quiet, residential. We have "camped" in such places half a dozen times in the UK, and I always wonder if the residents are watching at their windows, shotguns loaded and cocked. "Gypsies! From America! What is the world coming to?!"
Approach to the house, late Elizabethan









Heraldic windows and turret











View from garden







Main garden; the gardens and grounds are defiantly
Elizabethan, never having been visited by Culpability
Brown; but the plantings are 19th century












In the garden; late October, still blooming
away...

Roman Road

The carpark near Hardy's cottage was ample, remote, and un-signed, so we pitched our camp there. Several trails in Thorncombe Park take off from the carpark, and we decided to follow one. It was another bright autumn afternoon.
We got a few hundred yards before encountering this sign









The newly re-cleared Roman road; I visited with some of
the rangers later and learned the road linked present-day
Dorchester with the Bradbury Rings and Exeter; ultimately
with London; the Roman roads are easily identifiable,
they said, pitched, with drainage ditches; "wide enough
for two chariots to pass?" I wanted to ask









Note the pit on the left; the area is largely limestone and subject to what 
Floridians call "sink-holes"; some here were sufficiently old that 
the Romans had to run the road around them, deviating from their normal 
"straight line" approach to the world

Hardy Cottage

We drove on to near Dorchester, stopping, at Thorncombe Park, to visit the Thomas Hardy cottage. It is where he was born and grew up and where he returned to write his first few novels. To be candid, Hardy is Vicki's thing. I have never read a word of Hardy; not one word (although I did once watch the Tess movie years ago). Vicki actually re-read Tess in advance of this visit. She has been doing this sort of thing all the way through. Absolutely all I know about Hardy is from the Monty Python "Novel Writing" sketch, at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogPZ5CY9KoM. You must listen to it before proceeding.
Hardy memorial











Hardy cottage, built c. 1800







Vicki at the cottage








Hardy's bedroom

Cultural Treasures of Winchester Cathedral

"Winchester Cathedral
You're bringing me down
You stood and you watched as
My baby left town"

The grand patriarch of all fishing guide books is Isaac Walton's mid-17th century tome The Compleat Angler. If you fish, thoughtfully, you know this book. One of the chapels at Winchester contains Walton's tomb, and the fly-fishing federation of Great Britain (whatever it is called), has endowed and decorated it.

"Oh-bo-de-o-do oh-bo-de-o-do
Oh-bo-de-o-do de-do-duh"
Altar in the "Walton" chapel: nice neolithic water symbol,
tying (!) things together for us; the pews are carved in
beautifully rippled surfaces










Walton's tomb











Stained glass piece from the Walton chapel 











Especially for lunkers; actually the caption is,
"I swear, he was THAT big!"











Oh, yes, Winchester also contains the tomb of Jane Austen
(please, no comments about my prejudices or sensibilities)
(nyuk-nyuk-nyuk)