Brighton and Royal Pavilion

After Monk's House we took Rebecca to the Brighton train station for her trip to London and stay there for a few days. We had been talking to Penelope about this, as had Rebecca, for some days. There was an initial sadness and crying when Mommy got out of the camper, but it lasted only a few minutes and was distracted by talk of going to the beach. After that, she was fine. In fact, during the whole two weeks, there were only a few "miss my daddy" or "miss my mommy" incidents, all dealt with with the reminder that she'd be flying back on the airplane soon to see Daddy or that Mommy would come back from the big city in a few days. Such is the power of preparation. Plus, she's the best baby/now little girl ever. We had been in Brighton in 2009 but had skipped George IV's Royal Pavilion. After three months of palaces and great houses we were palaced-out. But this time we did the Royal Pavilion as well as other things in Brighton.

Probably the cheesiest place in the UK

 Brighton Beach; late July, still hardly anyone in the water

Impressive sand sculpture exhibition

Penelope in rock paradise

The Royal Pavilion: Hindoo on the outside, Chinese on the
inside, British Empire throughout

Another view; of course, George IV never
visited India nor China; he did make a trip to
Scotland once...

Another, flowery view

George IV; he retreated to Brighton and built
the Pavilion while waiting the many years for
his dad, the daft George III, to die; unlike
his dad, George IV at least had the decency
to die relatively young, having eaten and
drunk himself to death; oh yes, there was a
mistress too; social and political change
came to the UK not long after the Georges

Sadly, there's a no pix policy; but I did get a few...

Massive chandelier in one of the state rooms; seats eight

Sharing ice cream dessert with Grandma

The Monk's House

We drove on to the campground in Brighton where we intended to stay the next few days. Next morning, before taking Rebecca to the train station for her London visit, we drove over to Rodmell to see Virginia (and Leonard) Woolf's country home, The Monk's House. Below are my pix of the house, gardens, views, and the Writing Shed.

Penelope knew what to do in the Writing Shed; although she's
a few years away from actually writing...

Highclere Castle, 2013

The Earl and Countess of Carnarvon take a somewhat different approach to the fame and notoriety of their great house. I honestly believe you could visit Highclere Castle and leave unaware that it is none other than Downton Abbey. (OK, you'd have to have been living in a mayonnaise jar for several years not to know what Downton Abbey was; and you'd have to have ignored the numerous visitors' objections that, "isn't the desk supposed to be over there?" or "the table couldn't be this small", or "these are supposed to be carnations, not roses," etc.). There is nothing about Downton Abbey in the house, and, astonishingly, nothing at all in the gift shoppe, either. Not even a "Keep Calm and Watch Downton Abbey" coffee mug. It's all about Highclere Castle and the earls of Carvarvon (some of whom are pretty famous). Personally, I think this is just good business sense. The house has to maintain its own long-term identity. Anyhow, we pretty much spent the day there, since Rebecca and Vicki are big fans; and I do not live in a mayonnaise jar. Well, not exactly....

Our party approaches

Official photo

Closer up

Rebecca said be sure and get a picture of this bench and this tree and this side of
the castle

Full frontal; there is a strictly enforced no pix policy inside; a shame, since there
is much of interest; and especially all the Egyptian stuff...discovery of King Tut
and all that; anyhow, the current house was designed by the same guy who did
the Houses of Parliament; grounds by Capability Brown (for an earlier version
of the house)

Family portrait on The Bench

Another at the Jackdaws, the folly

Thus

The Earl and his head gardener; apparently a very hands-on kind of earl

In the garden

Flowery meadow over which the castle towers tower

Spoiler: after WWII, with inheritance taxes at 80%, the heirs sign Downton Abbey
over to the National Trust; but there's a happy ending, and potential spin-off: the
lord and lady get to run the gift shoppe, and the butler and housekeeper run,
respectively, the custodial staff and the cafe

The Vyne

Our next stop was another National Trust home and garden estate, the Vyne. The house and grounds and family areas are fine, but I think the Vyne has over-played its putative Tolkien connection. A "mysterious" 4th century Roman gold ring was found there, with an inscription, and it has been suggested that this was the inspiration for Tolkien's rings. Nevermind that Roman jewelry is found all over England, and the Roman world, nor that a magic golden ring that makes you invisible goes back Hesiod, nor that such a ring was a major part of art and high culture throughout Europe throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Kindly Professor T might have heard of such things. The Vyne plays it all to the hilt, nonetheless. The Tolkiens have disavowed any such connection and the Tolkien Society is "working" with the Vyne on "researching" the issue. All this is beneath the dignity of the National Trust, I think. But the playground, which is why we went, is pretty good.

Tolkienesque map of the Vyne; let's see, the Misty Mountains have got to be
in there somewhere...

Lots of National Trust sites have twig tunnels for the kiddies, but only the Vyne
has Smaug

In the gardens

The house

Great staircase

Library

Kneller's portrait of John Locke

Beautiful great hall

"...and in the darkness bind them!"

Grounds

Shelob?

In the "Hidden Realm" play area, where a hill and tunnels are made to look like
Hobbiton; here is Penelope helping other, older children in mud mound building;
she has at this point commandeered the shovel; it amazed me how willing she was
to approach and interact with older kids

Shimmering Lake: do not disturb the water...

Jane Austen House

After Nunney, we thought we might drive further west to Wells and its wonderful cathedral. But time was running out and it was a long way back to our next set of destinations, so we turned back east. The next morning we visited Jane Austen's house in Chawton. Rebecca teaches Austen, so this was a must-see. Vicki has read lots of Austen and seen the movies. I read J. L. Austin's essay Sense and Sensibilia in graduate school, but I don't think it counts. Anyhow, while Rebecca and Vicki toured the house, Penelope and I happily walked along the High Street, visited a community pre-school, watched some horses, some sheep, some birds, sat at the bus stop and played with a stick and crab apple she had picked up ("the best toys are found, not bought," a nearby gentleman observed), then passed more of the morning in Jane Austen's garden, in the company of several other males not doing the tour.

On the Jane Austen Trail

Official plaque

The house; nice house; nice garden too

The pub across the street, where she did some of her best
writing (nyuk, nyuk)

Rebecca in the dress-up room