Reading Bill Bryson's 'The Road To Little Dribbling' and other thoughts . . .

Around 20 years ago I read Bill Bryson's book 'Notes From A Small Island.' It was interesting to read a book written by an American who had a sort of affection for our Green and Pleasant land. I am again reading a book written by Bryson, which is called 'The Road To Little Dribbling: More Notes From A Small Island.' He travels around Great Britain and comments on things that he sees, some of them the idiosyncrasies of life living in Britain. Much of his thoughts are similar to mine and reflects a great deal of  what I write on this blog. It's no wonder the book is so high in the charts, as published in the Sunday Times. As of the past Sunday Times (21st August 2016), the book is number 2 in the General Paperbacks section and has been in the top 10 for nineteen weeks, having sold somewhere in the region of 194,230 copies. I can see why he's so popular. An American, or even an outsider, who gives his own views on some of the quirks of Britain. He often compares America with Britain, particularly in the chapter when he discusses mobile phones (why do Americans refer to them as 'cellphones'?) As George Bernard Shaw put it so succinctly, 'two countries divided by one language.' Why are some words such as 'colour,' 'harbour' spelt without the 'u' in America, for example? Or 'cookie' in America and 'biscuit' in Britain? This isn't in the book, by the way. Just me making the observation. He discusses the obsession people in Britain have with their mobiles, and why they insist, particularly in public places, such as on trains, to have to talk so loudly when having a conversation. Why do we have to have voices in machines such as self-service checkouts at supermarkets, in lifts (elevators in America. Why?) or on moving walk-ways? These are issues I have discussed in earlier blog posts on here, and give me endless pleasure. I enjoy observing the peculiarities of people I come across in my daily activities, such as in the supermarket or when out and about generally.  A real fount of endless amusement. I think you will see this if you read any of my blog posts.  Bill Bryson made some rather uncomplimentary remarks in his earlier book about Milton Keynes, which I find rather annoying, having lived here for the past ten years. He has visited many of the same places that we visit, including Bournemouth, Dorset and the south coast, as well as Avebury, which we visited last week, Stonehenge and many other British places. Anyway, Mr Bryson and I have so much in common, including the fact that we're about the same age, although I'm probably about a year older. This particular book is on offer at the moment in Waterstone's and was one of the books you can select from a range of other books in their which they have in their 'Buy One, get one Half-Price' offers. I can't resist bookshops, and Waterstones in particular. I love books as you will have realised if you've read any of these blog posts. I have many books waiting to be read and if there's an offer on in Watersones, such as their 'buy two and get one free' or 'buy one and get one half price' I just can't resist. Well, who couldn't? But Amazon is where I tend to buy most of my books because they are generally so much cheaper than elsewhere. I know that Amazon has been vilified lately because of not paying their fair share on tax and so on, but when you can have virtually any book and then get it delivered within 24 hours (we have Amazon Prime, incidentally.) and not pay any postage or packing, it is so easy and simple to order as well as finding books that I wouldn't otherwise have found anywhere else. This is worked out because they can recommend books based on what you've ordered or have in your 'saved for later' list on their website.

A Visit to the In-Laws

Carol's parents live in Bournemouth. We see them infrequently. It's a good three-hour drive there and then back and usually, it's on the same day. We have been to Bournemouth and stayed in a hotel, but that was a few years ago. We last saw them in Southampton during the Easter holidays. We had planned to visit them when we had our holiday down near Petworth which was then abandoned when the weather became really bad. (see earlier post.) So, this time, we organised things so we met up with them in Salisbury, which is about a two-hour car journey from Milton Keynes. They would come up by bus from Bournemouth and arrive in Salisbury at 11.30. We left home at around 8.45 and decided we'd stop on the journey down and choose to visit Avebury, as we were interested in seeing the stone circle. I set the SatNav and we set off, getting to Avebury a little after 10.15. We had coffee and cake in the National Trust café on the site. We weren't expecting the place to be so extensive. We visited the Rollrights stone circle in the Cotswolds a few years ago (see earlier post.) and had seen an item about Avebury on television a week or two ago and then realised that they were close to Salisbury and would make a good place to stop on our journey down. The landscape around that area of Wiltshire is really amazing. We have visited Stonehenge a few years ago and when we went down to Chloe and Steve's wedding in Devon three years ago we stopped at Woodhenge, which is a few miles up the road from Stonehenge and was a good place to break that journey. We weren't at Avebury very long as we needed to be at Salisbury by 11.30.  As our visit to Avebury was brief and also the fact that my Canon camera died whilst I was attempting to take photographs, basically because I hadn't charged the battery fully, we quite intend revisiting at a later date to explore the area fully. We had intended texting Carol's mum to let them know we were on our way, but when I attempted to text, using my mobile, I couldn't find a signal. On several more occasions I attempted to text, as we drove on, having left Avebury, there was no mobile signal. I'm surprised by this situation, considering how mobile technology has advanced, but perhaps it's because it's a relatively sparse area of the country, population-wise. Then we got held up by traffic and especially farm traffic, spending some considerable time stuck behind a tractor and trailer drawing a load of straw which got caught under trees and brought down leaves and twigs and bits of branch as it brushed below overhanging trees.

We arrived at the Salisbury Park-and-Ride carpark. We got there just as a bus was leaving but the next one wasn't much later so we boarded it. I don't have to pay as I have a card which means I get free journeys. I was never sure whether this could be used outside Milton Keynes, but I soon discovered that it can which saves quite a lot in travel costs. We were to meet Carol's parents outside Debenhams, but we got off too early and then had to find where Debenhams was. It seemed that every time we asked someone we met they had no idea, but it was in the Market Square. We saw both Carol's mum and dad, but on the other side of the road and crossed over. We then made for a Wetherspoons pub, the King's Head, to have coffee.

I wanted to visit the cathedral. For one thing, it's so full of history. There is a copy of Magna Carta in there. And possibly the oldest clock in either this country or the world. Or something. And what's wrong with just being awed by the sheer magnificence of such a building? How can you not be, when you think how old it is and how incredible to imagine how they built something that size without the aid of modern technology such as cranes. Also, getting great slabs of stone up to the top of the tower without our modern lifting machinery, safety standards etc.

If you want further information about Magna Carta, here's a link https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magna_Carta. There are apparently four surviving copies of this document in this country, one being Salisbury Cathedral, the other Lincoln and another in the British Library.

We sat on a bench in a park near the cathedral. Carol had made up a really nice mixture of rolls and fruit which we ate. The water meadows could be seen across the river and then I realised that the painter, John Constable, had executed several paintings of this very view, but seen from the opposite side. I have found the painting on the Tate gallery website.

Salisbury Cathedral, John Constable, 1820

We wandered the town, looking in stores and then made our way back, as if by some magnetic force, to the Wetherspoons we'd been to earlier and had tea. Unfortunately, it wasn't very nice. I make tea at home, but I can control the various elements such as boiling the water, the brand of teabag used, sugar etc etc but what we had here, or at least, what I drank, was unpleasant. 

Time was ticking on. Carol's mum and dad had come from Bournemouth on a bus and the next one was due to leave to return there shortly. We ambled back towards the bus stop outside Debenham's. We went into Marks and Spencers on the way as Carol wanted to see if they had a knitted top she had seen in their Milton Keynes store. There was a sale on, and, after hunting through the racks of clothes on sale, actually found the same item and bought it. 

The bus was standing at the bus stop on the Market Square near Debenhams, so Carol's parents boarded and the bus left. Soon our bus came in, and we returned to the park-and-ride car park to begin our journey home, directed by the SatNav. It had certainly been a strange day, long and tiring. We arrived back in Milton Keynes at around 6.30.

I am currently reading a book by Bill Bryson. It's called "The Road To Little Dribbling: More Notes from A Small Island." The subtitle refers to his earlier book, which was published 20 years ago. I read it then and enjoyed it enormously. He wanders around Great Britain and mentions many places and makes comments about them. An American who has an obvious affection for the quirks and idiosyncracies of this country. By sheer coincidence I have read his piece in chapter 11 where he mentions Avebury and discusses how it is managed by the National Trust.

Bournmouth Visit

We have been down to Bournemouth today to visit Carol's mum and dad. The last time we went was in August 2013 when we came back from our holiday in Ilfracome and tied in with Chloe and Steve's wedding in Ipplepen. We were due to go last Wednesday but Carol had developed a really bad sore throat and we didn't think it was a good idea to visit due to the possibility of infecting them with the bug. I was also threatening a similar thing but thankfully it didn't develop into anything.

We left Milton Keynes at around 7.a.m. and drove steadily towards the M40 and then onto the A34 just beyond Buckingham, the same route we took the other day when we drove for our day out at the National Trust property at Basildon Park. We hit roadworks on the way at the turn-off for Reading and were held up for a while but then the traffic began to flow steadily and we were able to maintain quite a good speed all the way down south. We stopped at a service area near the roundabout which lead westward towards Highclere Castle, another location for the television series Downton Abbey and also further on to the village of Burghclere which we visited several years ago when we went to the Sandham Memorial Chapel which houses painting of Stanley Spencer and also managed by the National Trust. We bought ourselves coffee to share in Costa Coffee and the drove on and eventually arrived at Carol's parents flat in Moordown, just outside Bournemouth. From there we all drove to Hengisbury Head for a walk along the seafront. This is a famous visitor spot in the area between Poole Harbour and Bournemouth and forms part of the main division between Poole and Christchurch Bays. We walked along the patch and stopped briefly at the newly-opened visitor centre. It was quite a walk and we went through some really attractive wooded areas and saw a lot of families with children and dogs enjoying the sunshine. We eventually arrived on the sandspit opposite Muddiford and the Beach House Cafe where we stopped for lunch, by which time we were well and truly ready for a rest and sit-down as it had been a good half-hour walk or more to our destination. I can, for one recommend this as somewhere for families to eat. The service was good and the food excellent, considering how busy it was. On the return to the car-park Carol's mum and dad decided to walk but myself and Carol returned using the land-train which was a pleasant way to travel. I don't, in all honesty, think we would have been able to walk back ourselves as by now we had been driving and walking more or less non-stop since very early this morning so a sit down on this mode of transport was well in order. We left the carpark once Carol's mum and dad appeared and got back to their flat a little while later. We left Bournemouth at around 6 p.m and I drove some of the way back on the A34 and got home to Milton Keynes a little after 9 p.m.

Severe Weather

At 6.15 this morning we had a very violent rainstorm here. We were sitting in bed watching the  B.B.C. Breakfast programme and drinking our tea when the sound of the most intense rainfall could be heard outside. It sounded as if the roof of the house was going to be torn off. I suppose it lasted a couple of minutes but it was actually quite frightening and we were more than pleased when it eventually came to an end. As I write this at 9.05 a.m. there is still the sound of rain outside. It has gone very dark and having seen the weather forecast on television no doubt we will get more rain. Over the past few weeks we have endured some extreme weather and we were due to visit the in-laws in Bournemouth over the Christmas and New Year break but decided that it might be a good idea to postpone the visit and perhaps go down in the spring when, hopefully, the weather improves.  We usually go out and visit somewhere ever the Christmas break, but due to the wether we haven't been anywhere, unfortunately. We had a very strong wind a couple of weeks ago which tore down part of the garden fence. Our beloved landlord has absolutely no intention of replacing any of the fence, although it is in a very poor state of repair. We managed to stand the fence panel up which was blown down, wedging some old garden chairs against it in an attempt to make it safe. This happened for a second time, and the section of fence seemed to have been lifted up further into the garden by the wind but we had to stand it up again, suggesting that the wind must hvave been extremely strong.  The entire fence is now in such a poor state of repair that it is well past the point where it actually needs to be completely replaced and has sections of old table and other odd bits of timber leant against it to prevent the dogs getting out. Our main concern is for the safety of the dogs as they have a tendency to wander off if given the chance. Alfie, more than Poppy, would be off up the Redway if he got out. Poppy has wandered off, having got out presumably through the back of the equally dilapidated garden shed, as the neighbour's cats seem to enjoy using it as somewhere to sleep, and the door to this shed is off it's hinges and it is something of a trial keeping it in place and so keep the dogs out. Whenever the cat appears in the green, all hell is let loose when the dogs see it, but it seems to have the upper hand as it knows full well that they can't get to it as it sits on the roof of the shed or walks along the top of the fence.

Wedding and Holiday In Devon

I haven't been on this blog for quite a while. Infact, almost a month. For one good reason; Carol is on holiday from Milton Keynes Academy. We have been down to Devon for my daughter, Chloe's, wedding at the village of Ipplepen. We drove down on the 2nd August and the wedding was the next day. We stayed in Ilfracombe and we stayed in a John Fowler Holiday Park. We were there for the rest of the following week and came back home on the Friday. We went via Bournemouth so that we could visit Carol's parents who live there. We had intended originally to meet up with them in Salisbury on the way down but they couldn't get there much before 12 midday and we wouldn't have had enough time with them to make it worth while as we had to be in Ipplepen that evening to meet Chloe and see the church and then drive on to find the holiday accomodation in Ilfracombe. As it turned out it took longer than we had anticipated to drive across Devon to Ilfracombe. Infact it took us over 2 hours, by which time it was dark and it took us even longer to find the holiday park. The following morning we left at around 6.45 to drive back to Ipplepen but found a far quicker route as we had to be there for 10.00. The wedding service was at 12.30.
It was great that there was a swimming pool on the holiday park site. We had made sure we had bought our swimming costumes with us and it was nice and relaxing to swim. I haven't been swimming since having my heart attack. We have, since returning home, joined the local DW fitness club near the  Milton Keynes football stadium and joined up with membership. It has a gym as well as a swimming pool and there are two Jacuzzis. We went for a free tester session and did around 8 lengths of the pool, but we spent quite a long time in the jacuzzi and came out feeling really relaxed.
We visited a couple of National Trust properties when we were in Devon, one was Arlington Court and the other was Castle Drogo. This was in the process of being restored and it was very interesting to be able to see this being done, particularly how they were restoring a property which had been left to deteriate considerably. 

Family Summer Holidays- Part 3

As I have mention in the earlier post, my father's yacht was the central reason for the holiday in Frinton-On-Sea. I think the sailing must have been particularly good along that stretch of the Essex coast. The boat he had which was called 'Amaranda' was a Jewel class yacht. It was clinker built, meaning it was made of overlapping lengths of timber made in the traditional manner. He had another yacht built of fibreglass of about the same size and later still a far larger yacht called 'Flashpoint' which was moored in the estuary at Brightlingsea and which was fitted out with a galley and sleeping accommodation , although it was quite cramped. I wasn't so keen on sleeping in that tiny space afore, as I got seasick with the motion of the boat and also some amount of claustrophobia in such a tiny space. This had a tender, a small rowing boat attached which was used to ferry us out to the mooring.  I remember that my Uncle Michael (my mother's brother, now, alas, dead.) was a very good sailor and would take command of "Flashpoint" because I think as Dad got older he found it quite difficult to manage. Dad had bought a small wooden rowing boat from somewhere in Colchester I seem to remember and took some duty as tender and was called 'Midge.' This was quite a basic sailing boat and could be sailed quite well by one person. Mum was good at sailing that alone and I think my brother James sailed that a few times. This was also sailed on the River Ouse near Cardington Mill, as we had a hut there which was used as a base for sailing and summer picnics, but, unfortunately, all of that had been swept aside when the business park was built.

The yacht would be taken down to be parked at the beach on arrival in Frinton. We had to go to the estate agent to get the keys for the house we had rented as well as the beach hut. I know that now it's quite fashionable to rent or own a beach hut at places such as Southwold, Frinton, Bournemouth and other seaside resorts, but when we went it made a very good base on the sea front. Frinton has an excellent beach, very fine sand between breakwaters or 'groynes' and the sea comes in right up to the level of the promenade and so washes the sand clean and makes an  excellent safe place for families with young children to have a holiday. Inside the hut (we had a different one each year, but I believe that they are all basically the same inside) there is an inner and outer area, the back area being lockable with double doors and which makes a good place to change when you go swimming. In that part of the hut there would be a Calor gas ring for boiling water for tea, a set of around six deckchairs, a picnic table and probably one or two other tables. In the front section of the hut there would be a benched area, so you could set up your table here and sit for meals or set up on the promenade at the front of the hut. 

There was a parking space on what was called the Greensward, a long stretch of grass which runs the whole length of the Frinton seafront. There is a slipway which runs down to the promenade and a further one which allows boats to be manhandled onto the beach and then launched. It was quite a strenuous task to haul the boat up and down these slipways, but I think at one point the car was used for this purpose.
As I said in the earlier post, it can't have been much of a holiday for my mother, because we stayed in a rented house in Frinton and this would mean there would still be meals to cook and we children would need to be looked after. Also, my mother and father sailed most days and knowing my father, who wasn't the most patient of men, it must have been quite stressful being a crew member for him. I can remember on several occasions being on board one of his yachts on the River Ouse and he wasn't patient, particularly if you hauled on the wrong sheet (rope) or moved at the wrong moment, as you had to if the boat was tacking into the wind, for example. If you didn't move fast enough you were very likely to be hit on the head very hard by the boom, the wooden 'stay' which kept the bottom of the mainsail fixed to the mast and moved about quite freely if not taken under control with whatever rope you happened to have in your hand and if not you'd get a lot of abuse from my father such as 'get out of the way, you idiot!' or words to that effect.
Quite a few family friends would congregate at the beach hut at Frinton. Not just my uncle Michael and his wife Gemma, but also a couple called Tim and Betty Smith.  They were a really nice couple, but they would argue with one another and would sit and bicker endlessly.  Can't have been much fun for my mother, inviting someone to tea and have to listen to them constantly bickering.
My brother Andrew appeared in 1961. I think after four boys my mother was keen to have a daughter. So it was a bit of a surprise when child number five was yet another boy. The Smiths, on the other hand, had been married for years and no baby appeared, but around a year after Andrew was born their one and only child appeared, called Ian. Funny little kid, bald, not very good looking, to say the least. In fact, possibly the inspiration for Yoda in the 'Star Wars' movies! I shouldn't make such comment, but never mind. Then there were the Boddy family, Ashely and Alison. Again, lovely people, but very noisy. I think Ashley bought my father's first boat, 'Amaranda.' He was another very good sailor. But as I say, whenever this family visited you needed to keep at arms length or wear earplugs as Ashley had/has a very loud laugh and the whole family makes a great deal of noise.
My Great Aunt Liz stayed at the Grand Hotel  which is on the seafront at Frinton and quite an imposing building.  She was one of my father's Scottish relatives, never married and was ancient even when I was a teenager.  She died at the grand old age of 95, in 1965, so almost 50 years ago. She makes me think of Lady Bracknell in "The Importance of Being Ernest." Blind as a bat and just as deaf and with a huge nose, which, thank goodness, I didn't inherit. Imperious, to say the least, and although she wore a hearing aid she never seemed to have it tuned properly so it made that unfortunate whistling noise that hearing aids are prone to. You would find yourself repeating things endlessly if you had a conversation with her, which could make life very difficult. Anyway, she would come down to the beach several afternoons when we were there, but it would mean her being ferried around in cars and taken down to the beach as she couldn't walk far.
Andrew, as I've said, was the youngest of my parent's children. I can't imagine what looking after no less than five children would be like, not just feeding, clothing, birthdays, Christmas and so on. So it's no wonder that my mother needed some sort of help. So Andrew had someone to look after him when he was a baby up until be was around 9-10 I suppose. This lady was Miss Fuller. To this very day I'm not sure of her Christian name. It's odd, but it's true. She had been a seamstress and very good too, and had gone to our neighbour's at Cardington, the Porter's and used to do mending. Somehow or other she was sort of 'head-hunted' by my mother and came to work for us., doing virtually the same thing. I know, it's odd to us today, but people did mend clothes. It's not something that is done now, I should imagine, even with the 'recycling' generation and the need to be 'environmentally friendly.' I imagine this would be a left-over from the days of the Second World War and what followed with Austerity. Anyway, she had one afternoon of mending socks, darning etc and then when Andrew was born she used to take him for walks in his pram. Eventually she came more or less permanently as a sort of nanny, but I don't suppose she would have wanted to be called that. So she came with us when we went on holiday to Frinton. I don't know what the arrangement as regards payment. I suppose she was given something, but I don't know. But I suppose she was getting, in effect, a free holiday. At least it meant my mother got some sort of time to herself as Miss Fuller took virtually complete control of son number five. Things went very well with this arrangement until my grandmother  Ferriman came to Frinton. I'm not sure for certain whether she came for a day or two or whether she stayed with us, but she was another body for my mother to look after.
One afternoon there was something of a cat-fight between Miss Fuller and my grandmother. Don't ask me what it was about. It was in front of everyone on the promenade near the beach hut. My grandmother was going on  about something like who was looking after my brother, and Miss Fuller, who was an extremely strongwilled lady, put her foot down and said that SHE was looking after him. It was like something out of one of those comedies, almost fists flying, fur and feather. 'He's my grandson and I'm in charge of him!' from granny Ferriman and then 'He's my responsibility' from Miss Fuller (or words to that effect.) I'm not sure how it ended, but it must have been very embarassing for my mother. I think it may have been about who could take him for a walk along the promenade or something equally trivial. I know it must have caused no end of entertainment for all and sundry!

Back To Business

Hello folks! I'm posting to my blog  once again after the Summer Recess. I must say, I had really got into the swing of writing this, but, with Carol on holiday for the past month, we've been busy with one thing and another, so there wasn't a great deal of time to sit and keep this up to date. We had a few days away in Bournemouth a couple of weeks ago, visiting Carol's mum and dad who live there. We usually go down and back in the same day, but it makes for a very long and tiring day, so it was better to book a hotel in Bournemouth and stay over-night and visit her parents and then come back the next day. The hotel was on the sea-front, and preparations were going on for the Bournemouth Air Show, so we found that a lot of the streets around the seafront were closed off so we couldn't park the car, but we eventually found space in the hotel car park (very few spaces left when we got there, but we did manage to park.)

We arrived in Bournemouth on the Tuesday, the journey down seemed to take forever. We got our usual 'full English' breakfast, which was nice. (we don't very often have a fry-up, basically because it's so full of cholestrol, but  I do enjoy it, nevertheless!) After some deliberation we decided to drive to Christchurch and have something to eat. It turned out that we'd go to a cafe and have coffee, and wandered around near the river, where there was quite a crowd of people as the weather was fine. There was large number of swans and ducks and other birds gathered near the water's edge and people were feeding them bread, but they were becoming somewhat aggressive as we walked past.

The next day, having spent the night at the hotel, we got up early and walked along the seafront, taking some photographs as we walked. I may upload some of these onto this blog or my Facebook page when I have time, so look out for them!

On the way home I rather wanted to visit the  Sandham Memorial Chapel in Burghclere. We've been past the exit on the A34 several times on the way down to Bournemouth and back, and, as we're members of the National Trust, and this place is managed by the N.T. it seemed a worthwhile visit. Also, this chapel was painted by Stanley Spencer, who is one of my favourite artists. Carol's mum and dad visit Cookham regularly, staying at a hotel owned and run by John Lewis (Carol's mum used to work for Waitrose, which is part of the John Lewis Partnership.) and present and former employees are entitled to use this facility (a good company, John Lewis, treating their employees properly, although, as an employee, you are a 'partner' in the company, as they share all their profits, unlike most businesses who 'share' the profits with shareholders who don't usually work directly for the company.) What I'm attempting to get around to is that Stanley Spencer lived and worked in Cookham, and many of his paintings are set in and around that area. There is a gallery there which we have visited, and was recently renovated and re-opened, thanks to a National Lottery Grant. It was very well worth visiting. He was really a great painter, and his genius shows in this chapel. I was struck by how small the place was, and the fact that the painted walls covered virtually every single inch of space from floor to ceiling. Nothing he ever did was like anything else you are likely to see, his Biblical and particularly Christian-inspired work has an originality about it I don't think I have ever seen attempted by any other artist. I can genuinely say that it would be well worth visiting, if you are in the vacinity of Burghclere.