Castles For My Mother

Kensington Palace Across the Round Pond

My Mother is coming to visit in a couple of weeks time and I've been trying to plan an itinerary.  It hasn't been easy, because she hadn't been providing much guidance on what she wants to do apart from see "where the Queen lives".  She is not a traveller.  She's seen a lot of the US, but she hasn't done a lot of overseas travel apart from New Zealand and Australia and a cruise or two in the Caribbean.  Although, if you ask her, she also counts her trip to Hawaii as an 'overseas' trip.

Don't get me wrong.  She's not one of those birther nut jobs who, against all evidence to the contrary, believe that President Obama was not born in the US, because he was born in Hawaii.  My Mother knows Hawaii is a US state.  But, you have to fly over the Pacific Ocean to get there.  So, it's overseas.  Isn't it?

Anyway, this trip will be her first trip over the Atlantic and finally this weekend I got a hint of what she wants to do.  She said she wanted to see the changing of the guard and visit a castle.  She's been consulting friends at her water aerobics class.  It wasn't much, but also knowing she likes gardens and the Buckingham Palace thing, it gave me a bit more to start with.  So, yesterday, I started looking at the options.

Rob suggested Hampton Court Palace which offers some wonderful gardens and a palace.  Kensington Palace and it's gardens was one I thought of.  And, since Will & Kate live there, she'll want to see Kensington.  By castle, though, I knew she wasn't thinking of palaces.  She was thinking huge stone walls, arrow loops, towers, drawbridges and moats.   So, I thought Tower of London and maybe something further a field like Arundel Castle - home of the Norfolks.  And, of course, there is Windsor.

London Wildlife: Bahama Pintail Ducks

These cute little creatures are Bahama Pintail ducks also know as White-Cheek Pintails for obvious reasons.  They are some of the lesser known feathered inhabitants of London's oldest Royal Park, St James's Park.  Those pesky Pelicans get all the attention.  So, I thought I'd give the little guys a plug.  These two were hanging out on the lake edge near the Inn The Park Cafe this morning.  

Bahama Pintails in St James's Park, London

Lord Palmerston: Another Heritage Marker Of Interest

Summer arrived in London this week - long may it reign.  The weather has been absolutely beautiful the past couple of days.  The mercury hit 29ºC yesterday, which was a huge change from last week when I was still wearing my winter jacket.  So, as you do, I went for a walk this morning around St James's Park.

Lord Palmerston Birthplace

Walking along the houses in Queen Anne's Gate in Westminster, I came across this little reminder of New Zealand and Great Britain's shared history.  The marker on this house marked it as the birthplace of Lord Palmerston (his actual name was Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston).  He was the British Prime Minister between 1855 and 1858 and again from 1859 until his death in 1865.

Lord Palmerston gave his name to two New Zealand towns.  The Otago town of Palmerston took its name in 1862 from the then sitting Prime Minister.   And, the North Island, Manawatu town of Palmerston North was named after him in 1871, a few years after his death.

OK. So, I Cheated Once.

It happened kind of suddenly.  I didn't make the approach.  He did.  I was at the gym last week and I saw him watching me.  He didn't say anything, while I was working out.  But, later, as I was leaving,  he said, "Hello."   I had had an earlier approach by email from another guy at the gym, but I didn't respond.  It is easier to say "no" when the proposition comes in an email.  However, a face to face encounter is more difficult to ignore.

Besides, he seemed quite nice - tall, dark and handsome with the appropriate mysterious accent.  It's not British.  I'm guessing something East and South.  We talked a little and then arranged to meet this morning.  He wanted my mobile number, but, of course, I don't know it.  So, I took his and said I'd text him later.  I'm sure he thought I was lying, but I did and things were set.

So, after Rob left for work this morning, I showered, got dressed and headed out to meet up.  It's been a couple of months.  So, you know, it was kind of time, but I wasn't sure I was ready.  I was somewhat nervous.

Hendrix and Handel. Neighbours?

English Heritage Handel Marker

It may have been centuries a part but did you know that the extremely different musical talents, Hendrix and Handel lived in neighbouring houses on Brook St in London's Mayfair District?

English Heritage Hendrix Marker

According to these English Heritage markers Rock guitarist, Jimi Hendrix lived at No. 23 Brook Street between 1968 and 1969, while composer, George Fredric Handel lived at No. 25 between 1723 and his death in 1759.

The Handel House Museum was set up at No. 25 about 10 years ago.  I guess it will be a couple of hundred years before Hendrix gets his on the site.

The things you learn on a Saturday morning stroll around London...

Home of George Fredric Handel, 25 Brook St

Home of Jimi Hendrix, 23 Brook St

Beating the Crowd at Borough Market

Tomatos Galore at Jubilee Market

"That's it!  Get me the hell out of here," I said to Rob. 

We had been for one of our long walks a few weekends back and had stumbled upon what we later learned was the Borough Market.  Rob loves to cook and I love to eat so in we went.  It was a Saturday morning and the market was packed with Londoners and plenty of tourists.  I hate crowds, not so much because I get claustrophobic, but because I hate people getting in my way.  I like to walk at my pace not the pace of the human cattle herd.  And, when that inevitable single human herd member totally oblivious to the rest of the herd around them stops in the narrow pathway to read a text, chat to a friend or read a map, my blood pressure spikes and I fear for their life.

We had already found it impossible to get anywhere near most of the stands to sample the goods.  A photo was impossible because a head was always popping into the picture.  I'd been using my arm like a crowbar to pry a path through and then that human cow did it.  She was 30 something, maybe Italian and right in front of me.  We were crammed in a narrow aisle between two opposing stands and a pillar and the next thing I knew, dead stop and the mobile in her hand comes up to her face.  A text had arrived!

Living My Antiques Dream

David Dickinson's Real Deal at Chiswick

I walked into reception and started looking around.  There was a sign pasted on the wall that warned that cameras were in operation and if you did not want to be filmed you should tell someone.  Hmm, what's that about?  I looked over some of the items in the cases and made my way to the door leading into the next room.

On that door there was another sign.  This one had a picture of a guy at one of the showcases in reception.  It asked if anyone knew this "thief".  I thought, I bet he's sorry he didn't ask not to be filmed.

There wasn't much in that room and it was kind of dark, so on to the next room I went.  And, there I discovered what the filming signs were about.  I heard his distinctive voice first and then I saw the well known face of UK antiques reality shows, David Dickinson.  They were filming Dickinson's Real Deal at the Chiswick Auctions today.

I've always had an interest in collecting things old and in particular things old with a story.  I'm always dragging Rob into antiques shops against his will.  I have even been known to take road trips just to visit shops.  I do those on my own, although I have been known to hijack parts of holidays with Rob.  But, oddly, I'd never been to a general auction even though most of British antique reality shows I'm somewhat addicted to like Cash in the Attic, Bargain Hunt and Dickinson's Real Deal always end up in an auction room.  Since arriving in London, my inadequacy in things auction has been reinforced by my discovery of Antiques Road Trip which has quickly become my favourite TV show.  It combines antique shops with travel through the British countryside and it too always ends up in auction rooms - heaven.

Hey! Where'd My Jelly Babies Go?

Mauro Perucchetti Jelly Baby Family Sculpture 

We went for a stroll this weekend - it hasn't rained in London for two days now. YAY!

Rob suggested we stop into Fortnum & Mason one of London's fabulous department stores.  It is wonderful to visit, but you need to be a bank owner to purchase anything.

Then it was on to New Bond Street.  As we ambled along the street looking in gallery windows, a flash of colour caught my eye.  I'd spied a miniature version of the Mauro Perucchetti sculpture I came across near Marble Arch a few weeks ago.  I had quickly fallen in love with those colourful giant Jelly Babies.  I love colourful glass and while these obviously aren't glass they looked the part.

The guard at the gallery door noticed my interest and motioned us in.  He may have seen a potential sale, but then that is probably why he was the guard rather than the manager.  Since we don't own a bank, I didn't think we would be taking my colourful little friends home.  Sure enough, one glance at the price and we were back on the street.

We moved on to Oxford Street and stopped into Selfridges another one of those fab London department stores.

Then, we carried along Oxford Street and when we reached the intersection at Marble Arch I started to cross.  From behind I heard, "Where are you going?"  Ah, yes, I forgot, I was in the lead.  I said since we ended up there I wanted to show him the Jelly Baby Family sculpture.

Jelly Babies & "Still Water" Horse Head Behind Buses

"Don't you want to have a look at the Dorchester," was his reply.

"No, not really," I said, thinking, "Why?"

"I want to show you the larger version of that sculpture we saw.  It's great!"

We continued across the road to the Marble Arch.  We walked toward the huge bronze horse head sculpture, which I also quite like.  Something wasn't quite right.  Over the top of the buses I could see a sculpture I didn't remember.  It looked Asian in design.  I could have sworn that was where the Jelly Babies were.  We carried on past the buses.  There was the fountain with a man in waders walking around cleaning it, just like the last time I was there.  But, no Jelly Babies.

What is that?  A guy with freaky hair on a horse with even freakier hair.  OMG, my Jelly Babies had been replaced by Genghis Khan!

Dashi Namdakov's Genghis Khan at Marble Arch London

I remembered the controversy weeks ago, when Khan was unveiled, but I hadn't realised that he had replaced my Jelly Babies.  Some had complained that Genghis Khan shouldn't have a statue because he was a murderer, ethnic cleanser and led a regime of genocide.

I dismissed it at the time as PC gone mad. Time and place, people.  I mean, let's face it, if the same standards were applied to some of the Kings, Queens, Generals and Clergy of the same era (and later) with statues around London, it would take years to banish them all.

That said and now that I know Mr Khan preformed a more recent act of ethnic cleansing by driving my Jelly Baby Family from their home, I'm inclined to agree that maybe he does need to go.

We Loved National Rail Until We Didn't

Southeastern Railway Train at Rye, Sussex 

Since we arrived in London, people have been telling us about how bad the London Underground, the Tube, and the National Rail services really are.  And, we kind of thought they were exaggerating.  I mean we've been here a month and have had no problems.  The Tube is a great way to get around although it does hinder your ability to get your bearings.  You pop up here and pop up there and don't ever really know how it all relates above ground.

On the rail side we had two really good experiences.  We went to Rye to investigate that East Sussex town's antiques and vintage scenes.  It was a great day out exploring Rye's picturesque streets and numerous shops.  The train trips there and back all went smoothly.

Weekend before last, we had another smooth trip to Walton-on-Thames.  We departed on time and arrived on time both ways.  The only hiccup was our decision to travel to Waterloo Station to catch a train we could have got at a station around the corner, but we're learning.

Then there was this past weekend.  Well, it didn't go so smoothly.

London Landmines

There I was, walking home from the gym this morning.  I had stopped at Sainsbury's to pick up a few things and was heading back to the flat when it happened.  I crossed the street, stepped on to the opposite footpath and - BAM! - it happened.

Cold and moist shot across the top of my Nike Frees, into my socks and up over the bottom of my jeans.  God damn it!  I had stepped on yet another London Landmine.  I just can't seem to avoid these nasty little surprises in the footpath.

You see, most London footpaths are paved with assorted materials like stones, tiles, or bricks.  They add character to this wonderful old city.  Unfortunately, though, it seems rain - and we've had floods of that - undermines some of them and water sits under them just waiting for an unsuspecting pedestrian like me to step on them.  Then, they explode with water, mud, muck and sometimes worse flying everywhere.

I was lucky today.  I only hit one loaded with water.  The first time one got me a few weeks back, mud shot out and all over the bottom of my shoes and trousers.  That was not a pretty sight.  Although, three young guys sitting on a bench outside the nearby college thought it was pretty funny.

I guess I shouldn't complain too much though, I'm lucky we aren't living in China where the pavement traps are a little more dramatic...

History by Google and English Heritage

Corner of Collingham Gardens and Laverton Place, London

I see Google is commemorating the birth of Howard Carter on their search page today, 9 May.

When we arrived in London and were staying briefly in Collingham Gardens in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea (can you get a longer city name?), I came across this sign.

We'd been there a few days before I discovered that the curse of the mummy was just a few doors down.

Once noticed, though, I now see these little historical gems from English Heritage everywhere.  They pop up on buildings all over town and they make a simple walk to the supermarket, the bank or the park an interesting walk through history.

Admittedly, I often have to use 'the Google' to have any clue as to who was what.

Olympic Defences

First it was surface to air missile batteries on apartment blocks and in parks around the Olympic Stadium and Village.  Then, yesterday, for the first time since World War II a British warship was brought into the Thames to defend the city.   It wasn't any old Navy ship either.  It was the largest one in the Royal Navy, the amphibious assault ship, HMS Ocean.

Mind you, the HMS Ocean wasn't designed for river duty.  So, it only just managed to just squeeze through the Thames Barrier.  Had it been a mere 10 or 15 feet wider, it would not now be moored at Greenwich ready to take part in the police and military Olympic defence exercises going on this weekend.

We've been warned that over the long weekend, there will be helicopters and war planes flying over the city and police and military vehicles in the streets.  We went for a walk along the Thames this morning and came across some of the river exercises.  First a landing craft of some sort went by.  Then, as we crossed over Tower Bridge six black speed boats complete with machine guns and men dressed in black with balaclavas covering their faces sped out of the Navy base and up the Thames.

A few days ago, I heard a racket over head.  I went to the window to see what was up.  A jumbo jet being escorted by two military jets, one on either side, was flying over head.  This may have been an exercise to reassure, but looking straight up at their underbellies, I wasn't so assured.  I mean where would it have left me and our neighbours if they had decided to shoot it down just then!