Trip Report – London, Devon and Somerset
Oct 28th, 2008, 01:09 AM
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Queen (Princess) Elizabeth got out of the boat but plonked herself on the step of Traitor's Gate and refused to budge.
I'm sure that there's a picture somewhere of her sitting there in the pouring rain.
I'm sure that there's a picture somewhere of her sitting there in the pouring rain.
Oct 28th, 2008, 03:02 AM
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rickmav:
Your detailed information on costs is so helpful and often under estimated by visitors, especially the need to keep small change available for parking at all times. Free parking is very difficult to find.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and insights about my home country.
Looking forward to more of your delighful trip report. Thanks so much.
Sandy
Your detailed information on costs is so helpful and often under estimated by visitors, especially the need to keep small change available for parking at all times. Free parking is very difficult to find.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and insights about my home country.
Looking forward to more of your delighful trip report. Thanks so much.
Sandy
Oct 28th, 2008, 04:25 AM
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Great report rickmav ... love your writing! I can appreciate being too cranky to take the tube ... flying 'across the pond' always leaves us jet lagged even though it's a short trip. Can't wait to hear about your 'one sided conversation with Virginia Woolf' ... we once stayed at a London B&B which was formerly the house where she grew up. Looking forward to the rest of your report ... I'm tapping fingers too!
Oct 28th, 2008, 12:13 PM
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<b>Next: Sutton Loo Two, a One-Sided Conversation with Virginia Woolf and Doom and Gloom at the Crutched Friar</b>
Sleep fitfully, keep anticipating the jackhammers. When they finally start, we climb out of bed and get ready for the day, even though the temptation is to stay in the comfortable bed. I am moving slowly so Rick dashes downstairs and buys a coffee and muffin at a nearby Starbucks (we rarely go to the bloody place at home, I don't know why we head for it on holiday).
A strange, and creepy, thing about this apartment is that the refrigerator and cupboards are full of groceries. Not brand new things put here for our use, but half-eaten jars of jams, sandwich meat past its due date, loaves of bread with three slices in the bag, etc. In a note she has left for renters, the owner tells us to help ourselves to whatever is there. I don't think so.
Didn't mention yesterday that we purchased a three day travel card (£20 pp), off peak, Zones 1-6. Make use of it as we head for the <b>British Museum</b>. We've been many times, but have never seen the items taken from the <b>Sutton Hoo</b> (my husband thinks he's witty when he calls it Sutton Loo) archaeological dig in Suffolk (we visited in 2006). The museum is full of school kids of every size and shape and wherever we go there are frantic teachers madly counting them off in a variety of languages. Of course, we have to stop and visit the mummies on our way to Room 41 on the second floor (Europe 300-1100 AD).
In 1938, at the request of owner Mrs. E. Pretty, archaeologist Basil Brown, excavated several grassy mounds on Pretty's land. What he found were some of the most amazing Anglo-Saxon objects ever discovered. At the interpretive centre in Suffolk, all you can see are replicas of the items, but finally we get to see the real things and they are magnificent. The metalwork on the famous helmet is exquisite, as is the shield, gold buckle, alabaster jars, etc. There's even a small bowl sitting high on three legs with beeswax inside. They believe it was a candle that was still burning when the grave was filled in. Great place to take kids.
We have a good wander around, and then adjourn to the <b>Museum Tavern</b> across the street for lunch. I've always imagined it as a bigger place – having to hold the egos of such people as Karl Marx, Conan Doyle and J.B. Priestley. It's very busy but Rick snags a table outside. The day has turned warm and the streets are full of people. We each have a ½ pint, Rick has fish and chips and I have the soup of the day (tomato minestrone). I've always been curious about this – do the English ever serve their soup not pureed? At home, the chunkier the soup the better, the opposite seems to be true in England. Most of the people in the pub seem to be tourists and a few office workers. Food is served all day. Tasty, reasonably priced, but nothing spectacular.
Then we set out for a walking tour of <b>Bloomsbury</b> I got off the Internet - http://www.londonforfree.net/walks/writers/writers.php. I've been going through a Bloomsbury phase after reading a great book by Jane Brown called 'Spirits of Place: Five Famous Lives in Their English Landscape'. It's about how place inspired the writings of people like Virginia Woolf and Rupert Brooke.
One of my favourite things from the tour is Bedford Square, a wonderfully preserved Georgian enclave, with the most interesting doorways. Bet it would look lovely in the evening. Rick was curious about the garden in the middle but apparently, it's for residents only.
Virginia Woolf lived at a number of places in Bloomsbury, as did Charles Dickens and William Butler Yeats. There are a lot of people sitting in Tavistock Square, enjoying the sunshine. Interesting to see a statute of Ghandi in the middle of it.
My leg is starting to act up again so we decide to take the tube to King's Cross. We want to see <b>Platform 9¾</b> and the British Library next door. Rick feels silly but I make him stand in front of the trolley coming out of the wall to show our granddaughter where Harry Potter left for Hogwarts. While we are at King's Cross, we pick up the train tickets I booked on the Internet before we left home, from London to Taunton in Somerset. I was given a confirmation number that I present to the attendant, along with the credit card we used to book it, and everything works smoothly.
A bit disappointed at the outside of the <b>British Library</b>. The building looks like the factory in Taber, Alberta where they refine sugar beets into sugar. Was expecting the British Library to look, I don't know, more regal and significant. But inside it's filled with light so maybe that's the trade-off. Have to have your bags searched when you go in, and they look quite serious about it. Other than the airport, we don't have that experience anywhere else in England on this trip.
We're here, of course, to see the Sir John Ritblat Gallery and the Treasures of the British Library. I'd never heard of Sir Ritblat, so asked a library employee who he was and apparently, he's the ex-head of a large property development company and donated over a million pounds towards the display cases. The room is on the left, just past the gift shop, as you come in.
The Treasures are my new most favourite thing in London. Since they periodically change the displays, you can come back often. My only complaint is that the light is so low, it's very difficult to see some things.
There are so many things I enjoy, it's hard to pick favourites. Seeing the scraps of paper the Beatles wrote some of their songs on, then listening on headphones to the music is great. 'A Hard Day's Night' was written by John Lennon on his son's 1st birthday card! The Lindisfarne Gospels of course are amazing, and the technology that allows you to leaf through the book on the computer. Of course, I'd heard of the Gospels for many years but didn't realize that Lindisfarne is a small island off Ireland where monks kept Christianity alive after the fall of Rome.
It was a treat to listen to Yeats read 'The Lake Isle of Innisfree', one of my favourite poems and the only one I know by heart (although it did sound as if he'd had a few tots of Irish whiskey beforehand) and to hear Virginia Woolf speak, in a BBC interview, about writing. She didn't sound at all like I expected, less bohemian and more upper class schoolmistress. You can see her actual writing of 'The Hours' (the movie Nicole Kidman won the academy award for), which later became the novel 'Mrs. Dalloway'. I also listened to Cecil Day-Lewis, poet laureate of England and the actor Daniel's father, read some of Wilfred Owen's poems. Magical.
There was so much to see. Old Bibles, Lewis Carroll's diaries, a letter from Rupert Brooke to his lover, Thomas Hardy's notes for 'Tess of the D'ubervilles' with words scratched out. Really enjoyed it.
My leg was quite bad now so limped to the Tube station and we made our way home. Picked up a few groceries along the way, Fenchurch Street has tons of shops including a Sainsbury's. After a rest and our daily dose of depressing economic news we went to a pub just down the street from us called <b>The Crutched Friar</b>. We tried the Hung, Drawn & Quartered pub recommended by our landlady but they stop serving meals at 5 p.m., and The Ship (recommended to us as serving good ale) closed for food at 3pm, so ended up at The Friar. Very busy inside, all the 'suits' on their way home from work – or maybe not – but it is quite a large place with smaller rooms off to the side so easily found a table. I had a pint of the Landlord, it was good and Rick had lager (I know, I know, I can't convince him to drink something else). We weren't that hungry, so shared a platter of chicken and chorizo skewers, potato wedges, etc. Was okay.
Eavesdropped as much as I good without getting found out because I was curious about what pub-goers talk about (there was a thread on Fodor's before we left about whether they would talk politics with an American). A lot of the conversation was about people they worked with, play cricket with, drink with, some fairly rude things about Sarah Palin, and general conversation about how much they had drank on their holidays. A couple of tables were full of men hunched over and mumbling amongst themselves, they may have been talking politics or the economy.
Walked a bit before going back to the apartment. Is a lovely evening and very quiet in this part of London. Before I went to bed, I glanced through a free newspaper we'd been given at the tube entrance. In it, there was a hilarious (from my perspective) column by a man named Andy Jones. The column is called 'Man About Town' and is kind of a male version of the column Carrie wrote on 'Sex and the City'. In it he says, (I wrote it down in my journal), "The credit crunch means we are working harder, longer, and managing to find less time to do the 'other'." He then proceeds to tell readers that London living just knocks him out and that he is finding it more and more difficult to manage to "put on a circus act in the big top." The best he can manage is a "pump and slump." He says he's half hoping that the woman he is currently seeing – who, hopefully, doesn't read his column - plays the headache card.
I also have a quick glance through the personals. Afterwards, I wonder why all these self-described witty, pretty, articulate, sexy, romantic men and women are finding it so hard to find one another. You could just draw lines from one ad to the other and be done with it. Also, interesting under the 'Women Seeking Women' column that a lady describes herself as a "bi-curious, non-butch female" and under 'Men Seeking Men', one fellow mentions that he has a goatee and is "straight-acting." Good luck with all that.
<b>Next: Afloat on the Thames, Back to Temple Church and Touring the Globe</b>
Sleep fitfully, keep anticipating the jackhammers. When they finally start, we climb out of bed and get ready for the day, even though the temptation is to stay in the comfortable bed. I am moving slowly so Rick dashes downstairs and buys a coffee and muffin at a nearby Starbucks (we rarely go to the bloody place at home, I don't know why we head for it on holiday).
A strange, and creepy, thing about this apartment is that the refrigerator and cupboards are full of groceries. Not brand new things put here for our use, but half-eaten jars of jams, sandwich meat past its due date, loaves of bread with three slices in the bag, etc. In a note she has left for renters, the owner tells us to help ourselves to whatever is there. I don't think so.
Didn't mention yesterday that we purchased a three day travel card (£20 pp), off peak, Zones 1-6. Make use of it as we head for the <b>British Museum</b>. We've been many times, but have never seen the items taken from the <b>Sutton Hoo</b> (my husband thinks he's witty when he calls it Sutton Loo) archaeological dig in Suffolk (we visited in 2006). The museum is full of school kids of every size and shape and wherever we go there are frantic teachers madly counting them off in a variety of languages. Of course, we have to stop and visit the mummies on our way to Room 41 on the second floor (Europe 300-1100 AD).
In 1938, at the request of owner Mrs. E. Pretty, archaeologist Basil Brown, excavated several grassy mounds on Pretty's land. What he found were some of the most amazing Anglo-Saxon objects ever discovered. At the interpretive centre in Suffolk, all you can see are replicas of the items, but finally we get to see the real things and they are magnificent. The metalwork on the famous helmet is exquisite, as is the shield, gold buckle, alabaster jars, etc. There's even a small bowl sitting high on three legs with beeswax inside. They believe it was a candle that was still burning when the grave was filled in. Great place to take kids.
We have a good wander around, and then adjourn to the <b>Museum Tavern</b> across the street for lunch. I've always imagined it as a bigger place – having to hold the egos of such people as Karl Marx, Conan Doyle and J.B. Priestley. It's very busy but Rick snags a table outside. The day has turned warm and the streets are full of people. We each have a ½ pint, Rick has fish and chips and I have the soup of the day (tomato minestrone). I've always been curious about this – do the English ever serve their soup not pureed? At home, the chunkier the soup the better, the opposite seems to be true in England. Most of the people in the pub seem to be tourists and a few office workers. Food is served all day. Tasty, reasonably priced, but nothing spectacular.
Then we set out for a walking tour of <b>Bloomsbury</b> I got off the Internet - http://www.londonforfree.net/walks/writers/writers.php. I've been going through a Bloomsbury phase after reading a great book by Jane Brown called 'Spirits of Place: Five Famous Lives in Their English Landscape'. It's about how place inspired the writings of people like Virginia Woolf and Rupert Brooke.
One of my favourite things from the tour is Bedford Square, a wonderfully preserved Georgian enclave, with the most interesting doorways. Bet it would look lovely in the evening. Rick was curious about the garden in the middle but apparently, it's for residents only.
Virginia Woolf lived at a number of places in Bloomsbury, as did Charles Dickens and William Butler Yeats. There are a lot of people sitting in Tavistock Square, enjoying the sunshine. Interesting to see a statute of Ghandi in the middle of it.
My leg is starting to act up again so we decide to take the tube to King's Cross. We want to see <b>Platform 9¾</b> and the British Library next door. Rick feels silly but I make him stand in front of the trolley coming out of the wall to show our granddaughter where Harry Potter left for Hogwarts. While we are at King's Cross, we pick up the train tickets I booked on the Internet before we left home, from London to Taunton in Somerset. I was given a confirmation number that I present to the attendant, along with the credit card we used to book it, and everything works smoothly.
A bit disappointed at the outside of the <b>British Library</b>. The building looks like the factory in Taber, Alberta where they refine sugar beets into sugar. Was expecting the British Library to look, I don't know, more regal and significant. But inside it's filled with light so maybe that's the trade-off. Have to have your bags searched when you go in, and they look quite serious about it. Other than the airport, we don't have that experience anywhere else in England on this trip.
We're here, of course, to see the Sir John Ritblat Gallery and the Treasures of the British Library. I'd never heard of Sir Ritblat, so asked a library employee who he was and apparently, he's the ex-head of a large property development company and donated over a million pounds towards the display cases. The room is on the left, just past the gift shop, as you come in.
The Treasures are my new most favourite thing in London. Since they periodically change the displays, you can come back often. My only complaint is that the light is so low, it's very difficult to see some things.
There are so many things I enjoy, it's hard to pick favourites. Seeing the scraps of paper the Beatles wrote some of their songs on, then listening on headphones to the music is great. 'A Hard Day's Night' was written by John Lennon on his son's 1st birthday card! The Lindisfarne Gospels of course are amazing, and the technology that allows you to leaf through the book on the computer. Of course, I'd heard of the Gospels for many years but didn't realize that Lindisfarne is a small island off Ireland where monks kept Christianity alive after the fall of Rome.
It was a treat to listen to Yeats read 'The Lake Isle of Innisfree', one of my favourite poems and the only one I know by heart (although it did sound as if he'd had a few tots of Irish whiskey beforehand) and to hear Virginia Woolf speak, in a BBC interview, about writing. She didn't sound at all like I expected, less bohemian and more upper class schoolmistress. You can see her actual writing of 'The Hours' (the movie Nicole Kidman won the academy award for), which later became the novel 'Mrs. Dalloway'. I also listened to Cecil Day-Lewis, poet laureate of England and the actor Daniel's father, read some of Wilfred Owen's poems. Magical.
There was so much to see. Old Bibles, Lewis Carroll's diaries, a letter from Rupert Brooke to his lover, Thomas Hardy's notes for 'Tess of the D'ubervilles' with words scratched out. Really enjoyed it.
My leg was quite bad now so limped to the Tube station and we made our way home. Picked up a few groceries along the way, Fenchurch Street has tons of shops including a Sainsbury's. After a rest and our daily dose of depressing economic news we went to a pub just down the street from us called <b>The Crutched Friar</b>. We tried the Hung, Drawn & Quartered pub recommended by our landlady but they stop serving meals at 5 p.m., and The Ship (recommended to us as serving good ale) closed for food at 3pm, so ended up at The Friar. Very busy inside, all the 'suits' on their way home from work – or maybe not – but it is quite a large place with smaller rooms off to the side so easily found a table. I had a pint of the Landlord, it was good and Rick had lager (I know, I know, I can't convince him to drink something else). We weren't that hungry, so shared a platter of chicken and chorizo skewers, potato wedges, etc. Was okay.
Eavesdropped as much as I good without getting found out because I was curious about what pub-goers talk about (there was a thread on Fodor's before we left about whether they would talk politics with an American). A lot of the conversation was about people they worked with, play cricket with, drink with, some fairly rude things about Sarah Palin, and general conversation about how much they had drank on their holidays. A couple of tables were full of men hunched over and mumbling amongst themselves, they may have been talking politics or the economy.
Walked a bit before going back to the apartment. Is a lovely evening and very quiet in this part of London. Before I went to bed, I glanced through a free newspaper we'd been given at the tube entrance. In it, there was a hilarious (from my perspective) column by a man named Andy Jones. The column is called 'Man About Town' and is kind of a male version of the column Carrie wrote on 'Sex and the City'. In it he says, (I wrote it down in my journal), "The credit crunch means we are working harder, longer, and managing to find less time to do the 'other'." He then proceeds to tell readers that London living just knocks him out and that he is finding it more and more difficult to manage to "put on a circus act in the big top." The best he can manage is a "pump and slump." He says he's half hoping that the woman he is currently seeing – who, hopefully, doesn't read his column - plays the headache card.
I also have a quick glance through the personals. Afterwards, I wonder why all these self-described witty, pretty, articulate, sexy, romantic men and women are finding it so hard to find one another. You could just draw lines from one ad to the other and be done with it. Also, interesting under the 'Women Seeking Women' column that a lady describes herself as a "bi-curious, non-butch female" and under 'Men Seeking Men', one fellow mentions that he has a goatee and is "straight-acting." Good luck with all that.
<b>Next: Afloat on the Thames, Back to Temple Church and Touring the Globe</b>
Oct 28th, 2008, 02:18 PM
#28
This is so good - too bad about your leg. London can be a b**ch if one is gimpy. Just soooo much to see and do.
(One <i>teensy</i> correction. Lindesfarne is an island off the NW coast of England - not near Ireland. It is accessible by car when the tide is out. An Amazing place w/ the priory, castle, village, etc)
(One <i>teensy</i> correction. Lindesfarne is an island off the NW coast of England - not near Ireland. It is accessible by car when the tide is out. An Amazing place w/ the priory, castle, village, etc)
Oct 29th, 2008, 03:59 AM
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Thanks janisj once again for keeping me on my toes (and nonconformist for helping out). I'm sure I knew about Lindisfarne being off the coast of Northumbria (I think a friend of mine went to a concert there once) but I wrote in my journal 'Ireland' and when I was doing the trip report I thought I must have copied it from something I read at the Library. I wonder if you can have sciatica of the brain?
Oct 29th, 2008, 05:52 AM
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Hi Katie - we did make it to Glastonbury, what a strange, wonderful, time-warp kind of place.
<b>Afloat on the Thames, Back to Temple Church and Touring the Globe</b>
Walked down to the river this morning and took a <b>City Cruise</b> (http://www.citycruises.com/) from Tower Pier to Westminster Pier. The cost is normally £6.40 each but because we had a Travelcard we received 1/3 off. It's actually the first time we've been on the Thames and we both enjoy it a lot. Our original idea was to go to Greenwich, then bus it to Eltham Palace, but I'm afraid my leg won't hold up, so we just enjoy the short cruise with commentary from a crewmember. The boat is about 2/3 full, mostly school kids, and it's a lovely day so almost everyone heads for the top deck.
Along the way, you see, from the water:
- a great view of <b>Tower Bridge</b>;
- the <b>HMS Belfast</b>, a warship from WWII;
- a replica of the <b>Golden Hinde</b>, the ship Sir Francis Drake's sailed around the world in (apparently, they've twice traced the original voyage in this ship);
- The Old <b>Billingsgate Market</b> (you can recognize it by the golden fish symbols on the roof);
- the <b>Globe Theatre</b> (we are going there tomorrow);
- <b>St. Paul's</b> – seeing it reminds me of that famous picture from WWII when so much of the city around it had been bombed and it still stood;
- the <b>Tate Modern</b>;
- <b>Cleopatra's Needle</b> – according to the tour guide, the two lions on either side are facing the wrong way round. When he was told about his mistake, the architect killed himself, and the lions were left as they were. I have no idea if this story is true, the guide was a bit of a teller of tall tales;
- the <b>London Eye</b> – what a marvel of engineering;
- the <b>Houses of Parliament and Big Ben</b> (which we discovered is the name of the bell, not the tower). The guide pointed out the flag flying over the Parliament buildings and said that meant that the House of Commons was sitting – "which they bloody well should be because they got us into this mess" – referring, I guess, to the economic situation. (We watched part of Gordon Brown's press conference this morning before we left the apartment, and he said that the financial crisis had started in the U.S. and spread around the world. As our holiday progressed, we repeatedly heard on news shows and read in the newspaper that the Americans were to blame. I don't know much about it, but it seems to me that greed is a universal failing.)
After disembarking, we walked along the river, enjoying the views and sunshine. This area must be popular with joggers, we were almost knocked over a couple of times. On other trips, we have enjoyed the area behind the Houses of Parliament (Cabinet War Rooms, St. James's Park, Buckingham Palace, etc.) so this time we make our way along the river to the <b>Temple</b> area. We've been before to the Temple Church, but want to return. I've just finished reading through my collection of Rumpole mysteries by John Mortimer and have printed off two more walking tours from the Internet – (http://www.londontourist.org/walk3notes.html and http://www.londonforfree.net/walks/legal/legal.shtml) and we kind of pick and choose from both of them as we wander about.
During lunchtime the public can enjoy the <b>Inner Temple Gardens</b> (a tip I picked up on Fodor's) between 12:30 and 3 p.m. What a lovely little place. Everyone is seriously munching his or her sandwiches and reading. I think in one of the Rumpole stories one of the characters gets married in the gardens, and I could see that it would be a beautiful place for an outdoor gathering. There's apparently even an Inner Temple Rose. Next, we wander about the Temple area making our way to <b>Temple Church</b>. The Church, of course, featured in Dan Brown's 'Da Vinci Code', but it's also a beautiful church and we arrive to discover that we've just missed getting into the Wednesday lunchtime organ recital (another thing I read about on Fodor's, but forgot to write down). We try to sneak in but there is a very fierce man at the door who, understandably, won't allow it.
After the concert is finished, we wander about and appreciate the beautiful stained glass windows and the Round Church, inspired by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. There has been a church at this spot since 1185, the church serving as the chapel for the Knights Templar. The effigies of the knights, which hold clues in the 'Da Vinci Code', are all portrayed in their early 30s, the age at which Christ died, and with their eyes open, ready for battle. I find this place very moving. As we wander about outside I notice many of the chambers have the most beautiful and elaborate window boxes. Does anyone know if this is some kind of tradition?
We have a late lunch nearby at the <b>Edgar Wallace</b> pub. In 1783, Dr. Samuel Johnson decided to form a club to meet close to his house and chose the Essex Head, an existing pub, as his headquarters. It became known as 'Sam's Club'. In 1975, the pub was renamed the Edgar Wallace after the mystery writer. Something I didn't know about him, he has had more of his books made into movies than any other 20th century writer has. Rick has what is called the full brunch – sausage, ham, scrambled eggs, toast, mushrooms and tomatoes. I have spicy vegetable soup with garlic toast. Very good. The place is comfortably full and, again, I try to eavesdrop. For some strange reason, Sarah Palin is being discussed again and the city of Boston. Huh.
We walk some more but I am getting pooped, so pick up some groceries for dinner and head back to the apartment. On the way, Rick checks outs the cost of a <b>T-mobile cell phone</b> (something else we've read about on Fodor's. The cost is £9 for the phone and £10 for a sim card. The clerk said all you have to do is dial a phone number every three months and keep it current, hanging up before anyone answers so you aren't charged.
A <b>clothes</b> note – not that it is very important to me, I tend to go with tried, true and serviceable – but there are sometimes a lot of questions on Fodor's about what to wear in London. At this time of year (October) I see: lots of boots or flat shoes (I only see one pair of running shoes, except on teenagers), jackets of every sort, but usually short and fitted, skinny jeans, black or grey dress pants, everyone wears a scarf it seems – men and women, trench coats, lots of black tights.
We have <b>free tickets</b> (booked through http://www.tvrecordings.com/) to watch the filming of <b>'8 Out of 10 Cats'</b>, a news/quiz/comedy show (another tip from Fodor's) but there is no way I can make it. I feel bad because we were both looking forward to it, but I can't move. We buy a package of frozen mush peas for me to sit on and we both settle in with some wine and watch the amazing variety of channels on the SKY system that comes with the apartment.
(Have hoped to cover the next day in London in this post but will do later on this afternoon.)
<b>Afloat on the Thames, Back to Temple Church and Touring the Globe</b>
Walked down to the river this morning and took a <b>City Cruise</b> (http://www.citycruises.com/) from Tower Pier to Westminster Pier. The cost is normally £6.40 each but because we had a Travelcard we received 1/3 off. It's actually the first time we've been on the Thames and we both enjoy it a lot. Our original idea was to go to Greenwich, then bus it to Eltham Palace, but I'm afraid my leg won't hold up, so we just enjoy the short cruise with commentary from a crewmember. The boat is about 2/3 full, mostly school kids, and it's a lovely day so almost everyone heads for the top deck.
Along the way, you see, from the water:
- a great view of <b>Tower Bridge</b>;
- the <b>HMS Belfast</b>, a warship from WWII;
- a replica of the <b>Golden Hinde</b>, the ship Sir Francis Drake's sailed around the world in (apparently, they've twice traced the original voyage in this ship);
- The Old <b>Billingsgate Market</b> (you can recognize it by the golden fish symbols on the roof);
- the <b>Globe Theatre</b> (we are going there tomorrow);
- <b>St. Paul's</b> – seeing it reminds me of that famous picture from WWII when so much of the city around it had been bombed and it still stood;
- the <b>Tate Modern</b>;
- <b>Cleopatra's Needle</b> – according to the tour guide, the two lions on either side are facing the wrong way round. When he was told about his mistake, the architect killed himself, and the lions were left as they were. I have no idea if this story is true, the guide was a bit of a teller of tall tales;
- the <b>London Eye</b> – what a marvel of engineering;
- the <b>Houses of Parliament and Big Ben</b> (which we discovered is the name of the bell, not the tower). The guide pointed out the flag flying over the Parliament buildings and said that meant that the House of Commons was sitting – "which they bloody well should be because they got us into this mess" – referring, I guess, to the economic situation. (We watched part of Gordon Brown's press conference this morning before we left the apartment, and he said that the financial crisis had started in the U.S. and spread around the world. As our holiday progressed, we repeatedly heard on news shows and read in the newspaper that the Americans were to blame. I don't know much about it, but it seems to me that greed is a universal failing.)
After disembarking, we walked along the river, enjoying the views and sunshine. This area must be popular with joggers, we were almost knocked over a couple of times. On other trips, we have enjoyed the area behind the Houses of Parliament (Cabinet War Rooms, St. James's Park, Buckingham Palace, etc.) so this time we make our way along the river to the <b>Temple</b> area. We've been before to the Temple Church, but want to return. I've just finished reading through my collection of Rumpole mysteries by John Mortimer and have printed off two more walking tours from the Internet – (http://www.londontourist.org/walk3notes.html and http://www.londonforfree.net/walks/legal/legal.shtml) and we kind of pick and choose from both of them as we wander about.
During lunchtime the public can enjoy the <b>Inner Temple Gardens</b> (a tip I picked up on Fodor's) between 12:30 and 3 p.m. What a lovely little place. Everyone is seriously munching his or her sandwiches and reading. I think in one of the Rumpole stories one of the characters gets married in the gardens, and I could see that it would be a beautiful place for an outdoor gathering. There's apparently even an Inner Temple Rose. Next, we wander about the Temple area making our way to <b>Temple Church</b>. The Church, of course, featured in Dan Brown's 'Da Vinci Code', but it's also a beautiful church and we arrive to discover that we've just missed getting into the Wednesday lunchtime organ recital (another thing I read about on Fodor's, but forgot to write down). We try to sneak in but there is a very fierce man at the door who, understandably, won't allow it.
After the concert is finished, we wander about and appreciate the beautiful stained glass windows and the Round Church, inspired by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. There has been a church at this spot since 1185, the church serving as the chapel for the Knights Templar. The effigies of the knights, which hold clues in the 'Da Vinci Code', are all portrayed in their early 30s, the age at which Christ died, and with their eyes open, ready for battle. I find this place very moving. As we wander about outside I notice many of the chambers have the most beautiful and elaborate window boxes. Does anyone know if this is some kind of tradition?
We have a late lunch nearby at the <b>Edgar Wallace</b> pub. In 1783, Dr. Samuel Johnson decided to form a club to meet close to his house and chose the Essex Head, an existing pub, as his headquarters. It became known as 'Sam's Club'. In 1975, the pub was renamed the Edgar Wallace after the mystery writer. Something I didn't know about him, he has had more of his books made into movies than any other 20th century writer has. Rick has what is called the full brunch – sausage, ham, scrambled eggs, toast, mushrooms and tomatoes. I have spicy vegetable soup with garlic toast. Very good. The place is comfortably full and, again, I try to eavesdrop. For some strange reason, Sarah Palin is being discussed again and the city of Boston. Huh.
We walk some more but I am getting pooped, so pick up some groceries for dinner and head back to the apartment. On the way, Rick checks outs the cost of a <b>T-mobile cell phone</b> (something else we've read about on Fodor's. The cost is £9 for the phone and £10 for a sim card. The clerk said all you have to do is dial a phone number every three months and keep it current, hanging up before anyone answers so you aren't charged.
A <b>clothes</b> note – not that it is very important to me, I tend to go with tried, true and serviceable – but there are sometimes a lot of questions on Fodor's about what to wear in London. At this time of year (October) I see: lots of boots or flat shoes (I only see one pair of running shoes, except on teenagers), jackets of every sort, but usually short and fitted, skinny jeans, black or grey dress pants, everyone wears a scarf it seems – men and women, trench coats, lots of black tights.
We have <b>free tickets</b> (booked through http://www.tvrecordings.com/) to watch the filming of <b>'8 Out of 10 Cats'</b>, a news/quiz/comedy show (another tip from Fodor's) but there is no way I can make it. I feel bad because we were both looking forward to it, but I can't move. We buy a package of frozen mush peas for me to sit on and we both settle in with some wine and watch the amazing variety of channels on the SKY system that comes with the apartment.
(Have hoped to cover the next day in London in this post but will do later on this afternoon.)
Oct 29th, 2008, 07:14 AM
#35
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Robert Peston of the Beeb is quite good at explaining why the economy has gone pear-shaped
Have a look at
http://newsvote.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/7688308.stm
Have a look at
http://newsvote.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/7688308.stm
Oct 29th, 2008, 02:57 PM
#36
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Thanks yk for the information. And MissPrism for the link. We watched Robert Peston almost every night while we were in England and although he had a tendency to get a bit excited - who wouldn't - I liked the way he presented the financial information. Sounds as if he had been sounding a warning for some time before the crash.
****
Don't sleep well, so Rick goes out exploring on his own in the morning. He walks to the <b>St. Katharine's Docks</b> and is impressed with how different it looks from the very first time we came to London in the 70s (when parts of it were pretty scary – we'd taken a wrong turn and got lost there). He said it's interesting to see a marina in London surrounded by all these luxury, high-rise apartments. Very ritzy. He meets a fellow at a coffee shop (who has a sister who lives in Vancouver) who tells him that during the war the area was heavily bombed and that his father, who was a fire warden, said that at one point they had to just let it burn because there were things stored in the warehouses that were so flammable it would have been suicide to try and fight it. The man recommends that we try the <b>Dickens Inn and the Prohibition Bar</b>. Unfortunately, we don't get a chance to return. Next time. (After we've read janisj's report on the area!)
When Rick returns, we take the RV1 bus and cross Tower Bridge making our way along the South Bank towards the <b>Globe Theatre and Tate Modern</b>. On our way we pass the <b>London Dungeon</b> and it's all done up for Halloween with scary characters walking about outside. Looks like it would be fun for kids. I even catch Rick looking at it, wistfully, from the bus windows. We walk along the river for a while, it really is a beautiful day and there are lots of people about. We've missed the regular Globe season by a few days, which we knew ahead of time, but really want to tour the theatre. It's the first time we use the Great British Heritage Pass saving £21 for the two of us. We have to wait about 15 minutes for the next tour but you are encouraged to wander through the exhibition area, even try on costumes on a rack if you like. There's lots of information and interactive displays. Quite well done.
Our tour guide must be an actress because her voice projects through the rooms and she's forever quoting Shakespeare. She's a bit bossy, but very knowledgeable and although I'm not a big person for tours, we really enjoy this one. On the weekend, they are putting on an opera – she says out of season, they make the theatre available to other companies – so she may not be able to talk to us in the theatre proper if they are rehearsing. But when we arrive, they've taken a lunch break and although the stage carpenters are hard at work, there's no problem hearing her voice over the hammering and buzz saw.
She tells us an amusing story about the 'lower classes' who would congregate in the yard (for a penny) and so were known as the 'penny stinkards'. The 'stink' part came from the fact that it was uncommon for people to bathe at this time – Queen Elizabeth was thought to be odd because she bathed once a month – and the groundlings would often be drunk and would relieve themselves right where they stood. Thank goodness, that no longer happens!
I go into the gift shop after the tour, looks like interesting things there, but there are 5,000 screaming school kids running amok and I decide life is too short and precious to try to fight them for a place in the queue. When a teacher yells, "Right then, everybody OUT!" I'm so scared I run out, too. Rick, safe at a distance, thinks this is hilarious. I feel like I'm being carried forward by a mob of midgets.
Then we go next door to the <b>Tate Modern</b>. I love the outside of the building, it looks like something out of Ayn Rand's 'The Fountainhead'. I think whoever first thought of taking a power station and turning it into an art museum was brilliant. (I read later that the guy who designed the original building also designed England's red telephone box.)
As I mentioned in my intro, Rick is not an art museum person, so although we start out together, he eventually tells me he'll meet me outside by the river. To be honest, I think a few of the pieces scare him. I love art, but only own one piece that would be considered 'modern'. We bought it in Spain many years ago. So, it's interesting to see what is considered great modern art and to think about what might be still seen as 'great' 100 years from now.
Some of the pieces, like Latifa Echakhch's installations, are strange and provocative, but not for me. I expect art to make me linger, to stimulate my imagination, to make me want to share my experience with someone, or hoard it to myself for lingering contemplation. The two pieces I see don't do that for me, although in art, as in life, each to their own. Some of the pieces I do like include: Philip Guston's 'The Return', Picasso's 'The Studio', and Juan Gris' 'Bottle of Rum and Newspaper'.
My plan was for us to take the Tate Boat to the Tate Britain but – cue the violin music – my leg has decided to go to sleep and won't wake up. I hobble across Southwark Bridge and we take the tube home. I know you're probably asking, 'Why doesn't the stupid woman take a cab and be done with it?' My only answer is that my great-grandmother was a Scot and I've inherited her stubbornness. Taking a cab means admitting defeat (this is foreshadowing). Rick just shakes his head and slows down so I can keep up to him, but he has lived with me long enough to know what battles are worth fighting and what ones you just walk away from. Or hobble away from as the case may be.
When we get home I plop myself on my mushy (not mush as I said in my earlier post – although they get that way after a few hours) and overdose on depressing news and murder mysteries. Tomorrow, we leave for Devon.
<b>Next: On the Train to Taunton, Music at Killerton and Damn Those Devon Roads</b>
****
Don't sleep well, so Rick goes out exploring on his own in the morning. He walks to the <b>St. Katharine's Docks</b> and is impressed with how different it looks from the very first time we came to London in the 70s (when parts of it were pretty scary – we'd taken a wrong turn and got lost there). He said it's interesting to see a marina in London surrounded by all these luxury, high-rise apartments. Very ritzy. He meets a fellow at a coffee shop (who has a sister who lives in Vancouver) who tells him that during the war the area was heavily bombed and that his father, who was a fire warden, said that at one point they had to just let it burn because there were things stored in the warehouses that were so flammable it would have been suicide to try and fight it. The man recommends that we try the <b>Dickens Inn and the Prohibition Bar</b>. Unfortunately, we don't get a chance to return. Next time. (After we've read janisj's report on the area!)
When Rick returns, we take the RV1 bus and cross Tower Bridge making our way along the South Bank towards the <b>Globe Theatre and Tate Modern</b>. On our way we pass the <b>London Dungeon</b> and it's all done up for Halloween with scary characters walking about outside. Looks like it would be fun for kids. I even catch Rick looking at it, wistfully, from the bus windows. We walk along the river for a while, it really is a beautiful day and there are lots of people about. We've missed the regular Globe season by a few days, which we knew ahead of time, but really want to tour the theatre. It's the first time we use the Great British Heritage Pass saving £21 for the two of us. We have to wait about 15 minutes for the next tour but you are encouraged to wander through the exhibition area, even try on costumes on a rack if you like. There's lots of information and interactive displays. Quite well done.
Our tour guide must be an actress because her voice projects through the rooms and she's forever quoting Shakespeare. She's a bit bossy, but very knowledgeable and although I'm not a big person for tours, we really enjoy this one. On the weekend, they are putting on an opera – she says out of season, they make the theatre available to other companies – so she may not be able to talk to us in the theatre proper if they are rehearsing. But when we arrive, they've taken a lunch break and although the stage carpenters are hard at work, there's no problem hearing her voice over the hammering and buzz saw.
She tells us an amusing story about the 'lower classes' who would congregate in the yard (for a penny) and so were known as the 'penny stinkards'. The 'stink' part came from the fact that it was uncommon for people to bathe at this time – Queen Elizabeth was thought to be odd because she bathed once a month – and the groundlings would often be drunk and would relieve themselves right where they stood. Thank goodness, that no longer happens!
I go into the gift shop after the tour, looks like interesting things there, but there are 5,000 screaming school kids running amok and I decide life is too short and precious to try to fight them for a place in the queue. When a teacher yells, "Right then, everybody OUT!" I'm so scared I run out, too. Rick, safe at a distance, thinks this is hilarious. I feel like I'm being carried forward by a mob of midgets.
Then we go next door to the <b>Tate Modern</b>. I love the outside of the building, it looks like something out of Ayn Rand's 'The Fountainhead'. I think whoever first thought of taking a power station and turning it into an art museum was brilliant. (I read later that the guy who designed the original building also designed England's red telephone box.)
As I mentioned in my intro, Rick is not an art museum person, so although we start out together, he eventually tells me he'll meet me outside by the river. To be honest, I think a few of the pieces scare him. I love art, but only own one piece that would be considered 'modern'. We bought it in Spain many years ago. So, it's interesting to see what is considered great modern art and to think about what might be still seen as 'great' 100 years from now.
Some of the pieces, like Latifa Echakhch's installations, are strange and provocative, but not for me. I expect art to make me linger, to stimulate my imagination, to make me want to share my experience with someone, or hoard it to myself for lingering contemplation. The two pieces I see don't do that for me, although in art, as in life, each to their own. Some of the pieces I do like include: Philip Guston's 'The Return', Picasso's 'The Studio', and Juan Gris' 'Bottle of Rum and Newspaper'.
My plan was for us to take the Tate Boat to the Tate Britain but – cue the violin music – my leg has decided to go to sleep and won't wake up. I hobble across Southwark Bridge and we take the tube home. I know you're probably asking, 'Why doesn't the stupid woman take a cab and be done with it?' My only answer is that my great-grandmother was a Scot and I've inherited her stubbornness. Taking a cab means admitting defeat (this is foreshadowing). Rick just shakes his head and slows down so I can keep up to him, but he has lived with me long enough to know what battles are worth fighting and what ones you just walk away from. Or hobble away from as the case may be.
When we get home I plop myself on my mushy (not mush as I said in my earlier post – although they get that way after a few hours) and overdose on depressing news and murder mysteries. Tomorrow, we leave for Devon.
<b>Next: On the Train to Taunton, Music at Killerton and Damn Those Devon Roads</b>
Oct 29th, 2008, 03:47 PM
#38
"<i>The man recommends that we try the Dickens Inn and the Prohibition Bar. Unfortunately, we don't get a chance to return. Next time. (After we've read janisj's report on the area!)</i>"
Wow - talking about putting on the pressure 7 months before the trip
But not to worry about missing the Dickens Inn. I've been there several times (mainly because it was convenient at the time) and it really isn't that much to write home about. Not terrible for sure, but the best things about it are the gorgeous flower baskets outside, and that there is some sort of food available just about all day long.
Hopefully it was easier for you in the SW being able to drive from place to place and not have to walk for miles.
Wow - talking about putting on the pressure 7 months before the trip
But not to worry about missing the Dickens Inn. I've been there several times (mainly because it was convenient at the time) and it really isn't that much to write home about. Not terrible for sure, but the best things about it are the gorgeous flower baskets outside, and that there is some sort of food available just about all day long.
Hopefully it was easier for you in the SW being able to drive from place to place and not have to walk for miles.
Oct 30th, 2008, 05:00 PM
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<b>On the Train to Taunton, Music at Killerton and Damn Those Devon Roads</b>
By the next morning I'm ready to capitulate and we take a cab from our apartment near Tower Hill to <b>Paddington</b> (the Novotel is just across the street and there's a constant stream of cabs). It's about 7:30 a.m. and the trip takes 40 minutes so we have plenty of time for our 9:06 departure. (It costs £20 and Rick gives the driver a £5 tip.) The route takes us along the Thamesr and by Buckingham Palace, so we get a mini-tour on the way.
I've pre-booked seats with a table so we settle in and Rick sleeps while I write and read. Normally, we'd pick up our rental car at Heathrow and drive to Devon, but this time we decide to take the train (the return journey for the two of us is £105). We arrive in Taunton in Somerset just before 11 a.m. and are met by a Europcar representative. <b>Autoeurope</b> were going to charge me £20 for someone to meet us, which I thought was a bit steep, so decided I had nothing to lose and emailed the Europcar head office directly and they said they would meet us for free. The paperwork is all ready, I do a quick walk-around while Rick is signing everything, and we are on our way.
(Unfortunately, even though we are experienced car renters, we make a mistake - we don't read the fine print. Normally, when we book through Autoeurope – and we've done it many times – the rental agreement from the car company is the same as the voucher that we get from Autoeurope, so we just waive the CDW (we have a gold Visa) and we're done. But later, while waiting for Rick to pay for gas, I read through the agreement and discover that there are some differences. They have, in fact, charged us £10 for the pick-up, £24 for road-side assistance, and although we knew ahead of time that we are to return the car empty (an idiotic idea), we didn't know that they would be charging us £1.56 a litre to fill it up (gas is between 98p and £1.08 a litre when we are there. None of this information is on the Autoeurope voucher. Once the billing comes through and we see the final charges, we intend following up with Autoeurope.)
It's easy to get on the M5 from the train station and we stop at the first rest stop to pick up an AA Driving Atlas. They are always really cheap there for some reason (we pay £3.99 versus £19.99 it would have cost us in London). I'm always amazed at how quickly Rick picks up driving on the other side of the road, he makes it look so effortless.
On our way south to our self-catering cottage at Strete in Devon, just outside Dartmouth, we stop at our first National Trust property of the trip, <b>Killerton</b>. It's between Cullompton and Exeter and just off the M5. We also have lunch here, I have the homemade soup and a roll for &pound3.95 and Rick has the cottage pie with peas for £6.95. Both are good. Entrance is £8 each, but we are able to use our Great British Heritage Pass.
The property had been in the Acland family since the 1600s. It was given to the National Trust during the Second World War when Sir Richard, a new convert to socialism, decided to get rid of the property. It's not as grand as some we've seen, but it looks like a comfortable family home and is beautifully situated with extensive grounds and the trees are truly ablaze with colour. The grass is like green velvet. One of the first rooms you come to on the main floor is a music room with a piano and organ and while we are there, an elderly gentleman starts asking questions about the organ and the steward says if he wants to have a go, he's more than welcome. It's lovely walking through the rooms hearing music, it makes you feel as if you are there for the week-end and one of the guests is providing the entertainment.
An interesting piece of trivia from the guidebook: In 1808, the ponds on the property froze over and 30 men were employed for five days filling the Ice House, with ice that lasted three years! During WWII most of the furniture was stored in a warehouse in Exeter and was all destroyed, but for one piece, when the city was bombed. The piano in the Music Room, built in 1802, escaped because it was stored in a loft in one of the farm buildings and wasn't discovered until 1994.
The best part of the house is the <b>Costume Collection</b>. It was donated to the National Trust by Paulise de Bush and includes over 9,000 items, although they only exhibit about 50 at a time (wouldn't you like to rummage through those cupboards?). There is a dress belonging to Queen Victoria – man, was she short – and a wonderful flapper dress from the 1920s. Most of the collection, however, dates from the 17th and 18th centuries – Ms. de Bush rescued the clothes from an old house in Berkshire. They were going to be thrown out.
There's an interesting little hut in the garden called The Bear's Hut. It was built in 1808 and at one point housed a black bear brought back from Canada. The floor is apparently paved with deer knucklebones (whatever they are).
Spend about an hour and half at Killerton. As we leave the M5 and start going further south into Devon the roads get narrower and narrower. The A379 that runs by our cottage is equivalent to our back alley at home. Yikes! You certainly have to keep your wits about you.
We've rented the cottage through <b>Toad Hall Cottages</b> http://www.toadhallcottages.co.uk/pr...ridge%20Lodge/. It's nice. Very clean, with two bedrooms, a full bath and a shower room. It has some beautiful views through the windows of Slapton Sands. It's quite unlike any English cottage we've stayed in before, very modern and spare in its decor. It costs us £375, which isn't really a deal, but £25 of it is for heating and a percentage goes to the agency. That's one of the reasons I prefer renting directly from owners – and they never charge you the VAT. The owners actually live just down the road and are helpful but not intrusive.
We've stopped at a Morrison's just outside Totnes on the way and bought our first batch of groceries, so settle in, unpack and have dinner. It's lovely to be able to hear the ocean as you fall asleep.
By the next morning I'm ready to capitulate and we take a cab from our apartment near Tower Hill to <b>Paddington</b> (the Novotel is just across the street and there's a constant stream of cabs). It's about 7:30 a.m. and the trip takes 40 minutes so we have plenty of time for our 9:06 departure. (It costs £20 and Rick gives the driver a £5 tip.) The route takes us along the Thamesr and by Buckingham Palace, so we get a mini-tour on the way.
I've pre-booked seats with a table so we settle in and Rick sleeps while I write and read. Normally, we'd pick up our rental car at Heathrow and drive to Devon, but this time we decide to take the train (the return journey for the two of us is £105). We arrive in Taunton in Somerset just before 11 a.m. and are met by a Europcar representative. <b>Autoeurope</b> were going to charge me £20 for someone to meet us, which I thought was a bit steep, so decided I had nothing to lose and emailed the Europcar head office directly and they said they would meet us for free. The paperwork is all ready, I do a quick walk-around while Rick is signing everything, and we are on our way.
(Unfortunately, even though we are experienced car renters, we make a mistake - we don't read the fine print. Normally, when we book through Autoeurope – and we've done it many times – the rental agreement from the car company is the same as the voucher that we get from Autoeurope, so we just waive the CDW (we have a gold Visa) and we're done. But later, while waiting for Rick to pay for gas, I read through the agreement and discover that there are some differences. They have, in fact, charged us £10 for the pick-up, £24 for road-side assistance, and although we knew ahead of time that we are to return the car empty (an idiotic idea), we didn't know that they would be charging us £1.56 a litre to fill it up (gas is between 98p and £1.08 a litre when we are there. None of this information is on the Autoeurope voucher. Once the billing comes through and we see the final charges, we intend following up with Autoeurope.)
It's easy to get on the M5 from the train station and we stop at the first rest stop to pick up an AA Driving Atlas. They are always really cheap there for some reason (we pay £3.99 versus £19.99 it would have cost us in London). I'm always amazed at how quickly Rick picks up driving on the other side of the road, he makes it look so effortless.
On our way south to our self-catering cottage at Strete in Devon, just outside Dartmouth, we stop at our first National Trust property of the trip, <b>Killerton</b>. It's between Cullompton and Exeter and just off the M5. We also have lunch here, I have the homemade soup and a roll for &pound3.95 and Rick has the cottage pie with peas for £6.95. Both are good. Entrance is £8 each, but we are able to use our Great British Heritage Pass.
The property had been in the Acland family since the 1600s. It was given to the National Trust during the Second World War when Sir Richard, a new convert to socialism, decided to get rid of the property. It's not as grand as some we've seen, but it looks like a comfortable family home and is beautifully situated with extensive grounds and the trees are truly ablaze with colour. The grass is like green velvet. One of the first rooms you come to on the main floor is a music room with a piano and organ and while we are there, an elderly gentleman starts asking questions about the organ and the steward says if he wants to have a go, he's more than welcome. It's lovely walking through the rooms hearing music, it makes you feel as if you are there for the week-end and one of the guests is providing the entertainment.
An interesting piece of trivia from the guidebook: In 1808, the ponds on the property froze over and 30 men were employed for five days filling the Ice House, with ice that lasted three years! During WWII most of the furniture was stored in a warehouse in Exeter and was all destroyed, but for one piece, when the city was bombed. The piano in the Music Room, built in 1802, escaped because it was stored in a loft in one of the farm buildings and wasn't discovered until 1994.
The best part of the house is the <b>Costume Collection</b>. It was donated to the National Trust by Paulise de Bush and includes over 9,000 items, although they only exhibit about 50 at a time (wouldn't you like to rummage through those cupboards?). There is a dress belonging to Queen Victoria – man, was she short – and a wonderful flapper dress from the 1920s. Most of the collection, however, dates from the 17th and 18th centuries – Ms. de Bush rescued the clothes from an old house in Berkshire. They were going to be thrown out.
There's an interesting little hut in the garden called The Bear's Hut. It was built in 1808 and at one point housed a black bear brought back from Canada. The floor is apparently paved with deer knucklebones (whatever they are).
Spend about an hour and half at Killerton. As we leave the M5 and start going further south into Devon the roads get narrower and narrower. The A379 that runs by our cottage is equivalent to our back alley at home. Yikes! You certainly have to keep your wits about you.
We've rented the cottage through <b>Toad Hall Cottages</b> http://www.toadhallcottages.co.uk/pr...ridge%20Lodge/. It's nice. Very clean, with two bedrooms, a full bath and a shower room. It has some beautiful views through the windows of Slapton Sands. It's quite unlike any English cottage we've stayed in before, very modern and spare in its decor. It costs us £375, which isn't really a deal, but £25 of it is for heating and a percentage goes to the agency. That's one of the reasons I prefer renting directly from owners – and they never charge you the VAT. The owners actually live just down the road and are helpful but not intrusive.
We've stopped at a Morrison's just outside Totnes on the way and bought our first batch of groceries, so settle in, unpack and have dinner. It's lovely to be able to hear the ocean as you fall asleep.
