Tuesday 15th August (day 16)
Today is a travel day. In a way they feel like lost days, but without them, we can’t get to our next destination and continue the excitements.
After such a wonderful day yesterday (thank you Jim Bean for the guest blog), we were up early and out of the studio well before we originally planned. We were so early that we were gone before our lovely host had a chance to farewell us from their doorstep. They did love the little kangaroo and koala gifts we left them though. After walking around the corner, the bus arrived within a minute, and we were at Centraal almost before we could tap on! If only we had paid attention to the arrival instructions from our host, we could have saved ourselves so much effort dragging our bags last week! Just as the bus had been super quick, the train deposited us in the airport, and we were checked in for our flight before we would normally be awake!
Our flight was unremarkable (except for the teensie tiny bag of pretzels) and we landed in Gatwick and were driving off in our hire car ahead of schedule. The car hire company “upgraded” our hire from a little 4 door hatch to a Nissan Qashqi, not really a useful upgrade when the roads are narrow, windy and full of roundabouts. But the car is very comfortable and has all the bells and whistles, most of which we won’t use! We shared the driving down to Portsmouth and arrived there to meet my cousin and cousin-in-law who I haven’t seen since 2014, and who Jim Bean has never met. They were welcoming and warm towards us, and once we settled in, the two of us took a refreshing walk down to the Portsmouth Harbour for a look at the surrounds. I was excited to see a squirrel in a tree. I hope I see loads more! Subsequently, our evening was spent in the garden, catching up on family news and planning our few days here in the bottom of England, along the Solent and around the local area. I think we might be pleasantly surprised by this leg of our trip …
Wednesday 16th August (day 17)
Luckily, we didn’t want an early start to our day, as we got an overnight storm (which I didn’t hear, thanks to double glazing), and then a morning of rain. By the time we were up and cracking though, the rain had stopped and we headed down to the town to have a wander. But first, we found a quiet spot by the water and watch the Matilda’s take on the Lionesses, with an Australia-wide public holiday (and the women’s World Cup) riding on the outcome. Unfortunately the lionesses attacking game was too good for our girls, but they certainly did us proud. The game was definitely the winner, with more people turning up to watch the women play, than any other (round) football game ever played in Australia! How could Australians be anything other than proud as punch?
With the game over, we restarted our wander of Portsmouth, watching the hovercraft head backwards and forwards to the Isle of Wight. If we had more time (and money) we could have planned a trip over there. We’ll definitely add that to the next-time-we-are-in-Portsmouth list. Further along the sea front, towards town, we got to the pier, then admired the view of the Spinnaker from Spice Island.
There is an endless amount of maritime related statues, displays and information along the foreshore, which wraps all the way around to two massive, brand new aircraft carriers sitting in the harbour, alongside HMS Victory, the flagship at the Battle of Trafalgar.
Having seen as much of the history as two land lovers can tolerate, we retraced our steps past the ruins of the Royal Garrison Church and a meadow nearby. The meadow planting is so pretty, and reminds me of a garden near our home that does a paper daisy planting each year. It must be growing strong now, ready for spring.
Eventually we ran out of foreshore, and the old Portsea Palace built by Henry VIII (although I don’t think he laid a stone) was closing for the day, so we wandered home, having traversed more than 22,250 steps! Thankfully my lovely cousins had planned and then provided a delicious BBQ dinner, a gutsy move when you are feeding Australians! I can assure you it was superb, and very gratefully received. Home cooking tastes amazing after so many meals eaten in restaurants and other eateries. Delicious.
Thursday 17th August (day 18)
Today’s the day we knock off a Seventy B470 list item. One that is probably close to the top of the list of things I have always wanted to do. One that probably many people want to do. We are visiting Stonehenge!
As is the way, we got away relatively late, but once we got cracking, we had a grand day. Our first stop was to pay homage to Florence Nightingale. As a nurse of far too many years and having given a keynote presentation the day before we left that included reference to Flo, it was amazing to see her final resting place. She requested a nondescript grave and headstone, and that’s what she got. In fact, if you didn’t go to the wee church in East Wellow expressly to look for Flo’s grave because you already knew it was there, you would likely walk straight past it.
Inside the church there is a bit of a shrine to her, with a few relics (or replicas, because some bugger stole one of the originals!) and some information. There are also friezes and frescos on the walls of the church dating back to the 1200’s. It was lovely and peaceful and a grand way to spend some time, in the presence of greatness. Long may Flo’s grave be well whipper snippered!
After paying our respects to Flo’ we found a spot for a coffee and some brunch, where I addressed my need for eggs, something I love to eat. The lack of opportunity to cook has really hampered my capacity to meet some of my dietary needs! Back on the road we made it to Stonehenge in the afternoon. Now, you don’t just arrive at the stone formation. If you want to get close, you have to park your car, or arrive via your tour, at a visitor’s centre and then be transported by bus to the stones. You can walk, but it takes a while. We chose to jump on the shuttle to get to the stones, but walk back to the car. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself …
Once we arrived at the visitors centre, we got our tickets and wandered through the information centre, before jumping on the bus. The ride takes a few minutes, then there is short walk, to get to the stones. Wow! I have been to Stonehenge! The stones are amazing and although you can’t get close (unless you buy tickets months in advance for an evening session), you definitely get a great view and absolutely close enough to see everything. Its hard to fathom that the site has a 5000 year history, and that somehow or another people placed these stones in this configuration 2500 years ago! How did they possibly get them there? Why did they even want to put them there? And how the heck did they work out the timing across 365.25 each year, days to know where to place the Heel Stone so the sun would rise over it on the 21st June and set over it on the 21st December? As the parent of two kids born on 21st June, it adds yet another attractive aspect to the mystery. I wonder if either The Drummer or Piper will ever get here on their birthday?
I have to say, I was thrilled to see the stones, and the audio guide was a great way to understand what we were seeing, including the interesting mounds around the area. These are barrows or burial mounds, that still rise well above the ground. How have they lasted so long? Sometimes I get occupation-envy, that little voice that asks me if I have been doing the right thing all my life. Should I have been an archaeologist, working outdoors and finding all these amazing places and relics, and then solving the riddles of their being and meaning? It was hard to leave, but eventually we decided to walk back past the folks who drive closer but can’t get as close to the stones as those who pay, and then on to the car. It’s hard to capture Stonehenge in a paragraph or two, especially when it’s been something you’ve always known about, and always wanted to see, but it’s fair to say, it’s amazing, and I’m stoked that I’ve been.
Anything that we could have done after Stonehenge would have been struggling to compare, so poor Bournemouth, the seaside town we went to for dinner, shouldn’t be held responsible for what I am about to say. On any other day, it’s likely I would have loved it, but I can’t really say that it impressed me much. We parked the car and walked down to the pier for fish and chips in the wind. The view along the coast was pretty, and we could see back towards Portsmouth. I tried really hard to like it, but it doesn’t compare with either Stonehenge or our beaches at home. I am sure though, as UK beaches go, it’s a grand place to have a holiday.
Finally we headed home after a great day, having acknowledged two of the world’s great icons, Florence Nightingale and Stonehenge. Not many days in a lifetime that that happens!
Friday 18th August (day 19)
With another rainy day on the cards, but only one more day to explore this area, we headed out into the cool and drizzly morning with no real plan. We were undecided between New Forest National Park, a visit to a town or two (maybe Salisbury Cathedral to see the Magna Carta), or maybe even back to the beach. In the end, based on the weather, we decided to head to the town of Winchester for a coffee and take it from there. When we arrived in town there was a cute little market on, where I entered into some lighthearted banter about Aussies (we won the cricket) and the English (they won the football), before we found ourselves a nice, bakery in a beautiful old building, with a story of its own. We could even make out some of the elements of the schemes painted into the decorative elements of the fireplace. Coffee and pastry is proving to be the morning tea of choice. I am going to need to walk some serious steps to counteract all these carbs.
After replenishing the tanks, we moved the car to a more suitable spot and wandered back into town, finding the lovely little St Swithun-upon-Kingsgate church. It has a very peculiar spot, partly built into an arch (hence the Kingsgate part of its name) and partly in a normal building. As a result, there are stairs to climb into the church, which was welcomingly open, with information about its history available to read. Apparently its very well known that St Swithun’s day, if then dost rain, For forty days it will remain, St Swithun’s day, if then be fair, For forty days ’twill rain no more. For the record, St Swithun’s Day is bang in the middle of the English summer, the 15th July. I wonder what the weather records show for rain on the 15th July, and the forty days that follow it, since the 10th century when St Swithun died? Poor fellow. Fancy being held responsible for England’s poor weather year after year!
Although we aren’t religious people at all, our next stop was the stunning Winchester Cathedral where we decided to join a guided tour! Firstly though, we admired the outside of the old building and some of its lovely gardens. It’s clear there is (or was) a problem with the foundations of this building, as it has a decided lean, not as bad as buildings in Amsterdam, but certainly noticeable.
Inside the cathedral is huge, and has some beautiful features, as well as some very famous interrees, in fact old St Swithun is himself is interred here, along with Jane Austen.
Then there is old mate, William Walker, the man who addressed the sinking cathedral issue, and saved it from any further sinkage. The story that was told to us by the tour guide goes like this. Apparently when cracks started to appear in the cathedral in the early 1900s and everyone was worried it might even collapse, William Walker, a deep-sea diver, dived into the water underneath the sinking building, every day for six years, placing bags of dry concrete that took up some of the water and set like huge stones. What a legend! For his troubles, there is a small statue of him at the far end of the cathedral. There’s also other interesting tales and beautiful pieces within the cathedral, that kept us inside for about an hour. Not bad for two folk who are not necessarily believers.
After the cathedral we decided to head back in the direction of home, and stop in at Portchester Castle. We’ve seen it as we’ve been driving around, and it looks worth the stop. Fortunately it was open, although it was closing not long after we arrived. We did have enough time to wander around and even managed to find ourselves a walking tour online that we used as an guide, that helped us imagine what the place looked like before it started to fall down.
For reference, the castle overlooks Portsmouth harbour and during its life, has been a Roman fortress, a Norman stronghold and even a prisoner of war camp during the Napoleonic Wars. It is well presented, and we were able to cover it all, including the blustery rooftop, before they shut us out. We also had a wander around the open area within the walls, but outside the fortress, where a few hardy folk were having a picnic and kicking a football.
For what started as an unsure day, we managed to fit it heaps of things and learn a lot too. Our evening wrapped up sitting around with my cousins dissecting the family tree on my maternal grandfather’s side, and sharing the stories we have both heard over the years of our lives. It funny how some things we have heard are very similar, while others are very different. History is a funny thing.
Saturday 19th August (day 20)
Here we go again, travelling to our next host. This time we are driving from Portsmouth to Woking, to visit my Aunty who recently become a widow. She was married to my mum’s brother until he sadly died in March of this year, after a short but uncomfortable and ultimately painful illness. I have stayed with them before, so I am looking forward to being in familiar surroundings.
But before we arrived in Woking, we decided to take a slight detour and use some of our day for sight-seeing. In the hope of seeing a Royal or two, we headed for Eton and Windsor. I think the best thing about our time in the two towns was our breakfast (at a cafe in Eton) and the fudge (from a shop in Windsor). The town of Windsor was hugely busy, and the line to get into the castle was long, with people standing in the sun and even collapsing from the heat! I’m glad we didn’t bother with that; I didn’t need to see a Royal that badly. We did wander around to the Long Walk, where we all watched HRH be driven at the time of her funeral. It is indeed a long walk! Here I saw another cheeky squirrel inside the gates. I wonder if he or she watched the queen go by?
Eventually I had had enough of the crowds, so we decided to push on to Woking, arriving in the mid-afternoon. It was lovely to reunite with my Aunty and to enjoy a beer in the garden. Across the evening family stories were exchanged, some of which reconciled a few of the queries about the family tree on this side of my family. I have come to the conclusion that it all depends on the person telling the story. There may be minor discrepancies in birth and death dates and places, but the part in between, where the person lived their life, the interesting part, is open to wide and varied discrepancies. I wonder how the history books will treat my story after I am gone. I doubt there will be reference to the Solo Avocado, or the wealth of experiences I have had. If you are telling my story, be kind.
Sunday 20th August (day 21)
Because we are here, we decided to catch the train into London and spend a day wandering around. In hindsight, it was probably not one of our better ideas, but we did it. Anyway, the train fare itself took a huge toll on our budget, with return tickets costing us £22 each, where the Australian dollar is currently buying 50 pence. So, it cost us $50 each to commute into the city. Man alive, I can’t believe that people pay that much. In fact, how do Londoners afford to visit the city? It’ll take me a while to stop moaning about that ticket price!
Anyway, once we were in the city, we headed out to Camden Markets on the Metro, a place I have never been. I don’t want to keep on putting a downer on our day, but I failed to see the appeal. There were hordes of people, perhaps because it’s Sunday, and no one seemed to be buying, just browsing and getting in each other’s way. I was happy to leave and jump on a double decker bus, and secure the front seat on the top deck, to Abbey Road! Very cool. We got to see the studio and some musos head inside with their instruments. I could almost imagine they were The Beatles! We crossed the zebra crossing and took a photo with the “Abbey Rd” sign, ticking another 70B4Seventy item off the list! Happy with this part of day, we decided to walk around the perimeter of Lords Cricket Ground. If we’d given it some thought, we could have booked a tour. Especially in the aftermath of the Aussies winning the ICC World Test Championship! I loved seeing the billboard posters still hanging there, with Pat Cummins and Ben Stokes faces on there, asking who would win. The Aussies, of course!
Back underground, we caught the metro back into the city and surfaced just near our destination, The Old Operating Theatre in the attic of the church of St Thomas’ Hospital. I know, a strange one, but recommended by a colleague, who like me, loves the history of nursing and medicine. This quirky little place requires you to take a one-way spiral staircase up to the exhibits. Once that’s conquered, there is a lot of information about the herb garret, the home of the apothecary and his profession. Some of the remedies and instruments are enough to make you clench certain parts of your own anatomy.
The most interesting part though is the operating theatre, with an operating table in the centre and tiered standing, in the round, around the table. It’s a small space, with a huge window overhead, for the benefit of the surgeon being able to see what they were doing. Despite being small, apparently about a hundred surgeons-in-waiting and others crammed into the tiers to catch a glimpse of the surgery. I say a glimpse, because there were numerous people involved in the surgery, crowding the floor. Many were required just to hold the poor patient down. And you should be grateful you didn’t need surgery back then. All the patients had a death sentence, and surgery was the only remaining option available to them. There was no anaesthesia, and no cleanliness. In fact, the surgeon was more likely to wash his hands when they finished operating, rather than before! And, if the patient somehow survived the surgery, infection was a huge risk. Enter Florence, who worked here, then recommended the hospital and its theatre move, which it did. A nice link back to her, to our visit to her grave a couple of days ago, and to my keynote a couple of weeks ago. The little Operating Theatre museum is a great way to spend an hour or so, as long as you can tolerate the gory stories.
Time for lunch (can you tell I have no issue with gory stories?) London was hugely packed with people, uncomfortably so, but somehow, we managed to find a sandwich and a cold drink, that we ate on the South Bank of the Thames, before walking along to Waterloo to head back to Woking, arriving back home in time for dinner. That was our day in London! None of the more touristy spots like The Eye or Buckingham Palace or Westminster (although we did notice how clean and shiny Big Ben is now), as we have both been to London a few times before. Would I come back? Not to London. It’s really not my cup of tea, and it just seems to be too full of folk and too devoid of new things to do. But it’s one of those places that I seem to find myself in every few years, so perhaps I will be back.
Monday 21st August (day 22)
Part of the appeal of Woking for Jim Bean is the fact that the area is renowned for being the home of War of the Worlds. Apparently, the Martians landed on Horsell Common, which is literally directly across the road from my Aunty’s street! Jim Bean found a self-guided walking or cycling tour, so we are off to see the sites / sights.
Our first stop was just a mile down the road in a carpark, where we left the car headed for the station. Over a coffee, we signed up to Brompton cycle hire and within the hour we were retrieving folding bicycles from their lockers at the station. I suspect these bikes are more suitable for a quick commute than a self-guided tour across a common, but needs must and perhaps they will be better than our Amsterdam bikes …
We started with a squizz at the house HG Wells stayed in. I guess he romped all over the common as he was percolating the story line and realised that Horsell Common was the perfect setting for the Martian landing. From his house we doubled back to the main road and onto the start of the Common. Although not related, the tour directed us into the Muslim Burial Ground and Peace Garden, now a memorial garden to fallen British soldiers of Muslim faith, but formerly (for a while) their resting place! It’s a nice place for a bit of reflection, with touches that reflect the Muslim faith, and a well-established garden. It must be pretty in springtime.
Further on the tour, we crossed the road at a local church and then again at a former inn. Of no relevance to the War of the Worlds Story, it was apparently written into the Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde story. Further across the we road came to the spot that Jim Bean was looking for, the Martians landing site. To be honest, it looks like a great big sandy patch of land, but I suppose if you squint, tip your head to one side and poke your tongue out, it almost looks like a Martian landing pad. But Jim Bean seemed happy to find the spot. As we sat there, processing sore bums and sore legs again, a couple of mums with their kids arrived, and promptly started to dig holes and build sand castles at “the beach”. I hope they are safely home before the martians land.
The rest of our day was spent toddling around on our tiny commuter folding bikes, finding the various War of the Worlds statues and the like, as well taking a pedal along the river, spotting what we think was a (what)? I was hoping for a hedgehog but I might have to settle for this little fellow, who scared the daylights out of me as it dashed across the path, hell bent on getting to the water. Truth is, I probably frightened it more than it frightened me!
Eventually we made it back to the bike lockers, manipulated our bikes into their state of foldedness, locked them away, and headed home for a rest before we enjoyed a lovely pub dinner with my Aunty. A very nice way to celebrate a very nice few days relaxing in the warmth of England’s summer.
Tuesday 22nd August (day 23)
Today is our last day in England, the land of my mother’s birth, but a place I have never connected with in the way I have with Scotland, the land of my father’s birth. We are off to the place from which time is determined, Greenwich.
We set off from Woking after the peak hour, but before too late. I did the driving all the way to Greenwich, a full hour and 23 minutes, to go 43kms! We travel less time from home to go to some remote camping places! Anyway, we eventually arrived and fortunately although it was busy with people, we were able to park the car close to the observatory. Needing coffee, we hoofed it down the hill to a cafe, before taking a wander around St Alfege Church. I wouldn’t normally include a churchyard in my meandering, but this one caught my attention because they have used all the old illegible gravestones as a fence! They are lined up, side by side around the perimeter of the church, as though they have no other value. Perhaps they don’t now …
We decided to wander over to view the Cutty Sark from the riverside (as opposed to entering the tourist site) and the headed into the Old Royal Naval College, on the boundary of the palace where Henry VIII was born! He keeps cropping up, does Henry. From here we could see two clock faces, one a familiar 12-hour clock, the other a compass with “hands” at WNW and ESE. It took us a while, a few guess (“it has to do with the sun”) and some googling to find out it is joined to the wind vane and shows wind direction on its face. Very handy information for ships captains aboard their ships in the river. We had a great spot to watch the red ball rise on the top of the building on the top of the hill, then fall at exactly 1pm. Well, actually it is the exact 1pm from which everything else is set (and Samsung confirms it!). Handy a few years ago when sailors and other Londoners wanted to synchronise their watches (as long as they were actually looking at the exact moment). Oh well, there is always tomorrow.
Having seen that, we headed up the hill to the observatory, past the tiny garden planted to commemorate the 83rd anniversary of the sinking of the titanic (an obscure anniversary to commemorate). At the top we crossed backwards and forwards over the prime meridian and checked out the Shepard Clock, the first (24 hour) clock to share GMT with Joe Public. I like it. I might get one for home. With that, Jim Bean headed off to find 00°00.000’E, which was actually about 50m to the west of the prime meridian line (today). The reason it is actually in a different spot is “continental drift”. I should point out that while he frigged around doing that I laid under a tree!
After confirming time and space, we wandered around the park, finding a very cute squirrel eating its way through more acorns than one squirrel should consume, a flower garden, and the remains of an ancient oak tree in the grounds of the palace where good old Henry VIII was born. He supposedly danced around this tree. It’s amazing to think this living thing, only recently collapsed to the ground, was living almost one thousand years ago. Besides Elizabeth I, I wonder how many other people have picnicked in its shade over the years. We also spotted an English magpie in the sun, not at all like our Aussie magpie, and a robin who is not at all like our scarlet robin. More beautiful birds added to my list.
Eventually we left the park and headed home to Woking. Almost home, I spotted a tree with red foliage or flowers or berries, which may be a hawthorn bush or a Rowan tree. We enjoyed listening to Jim Bean recite the Rowan Tree song, until he changed the final verse, felling the tree down, to make a ring road around the town! We sat in the garden eating raspberry tart with chocolate ice cream (lactose free) and drinking rosé until quite late, on a still and warm summer’s evening. Let’s hope the weather is as kind to us in Scotland, my fathers land …
The Solo Avocado 