“The one thing I remember about London is that is were always raining, except on those days when it weren’t raining, then it were always particularly overcast”.

After a sixty year absence we are back in my home town and as far as I can see it hasn’t changed a bit, not that I can remember that much being six years old when the family packed up and moved to warmer climes. One thing is definite – the weather is the same, cool, damp with a slight chance of sun.

We dropped the car of at Victoria Cross at about four post meridiem (practice makes perfect) and it took over three hours to walk back to Earls Court (where all good Aussies stay) there’s just so much to see in a small area…. Buckingham Palace, Green Park, Hyde Park, Albert Memorial, Albert Hall, Nelsons Gate not to mention the numerous statues and other large objects d’art.

Vicky with ankles covered

The big house

Wellington.

And the gate.

Bomber Comand monument.

Hyde Park

Modern monument.

Temporary Home

Albert. After the 11.2 million pound refurbishment.

By the way, it’s twenty degrees in London today the same as Sydney, the only difference is it’s raining here.

A hundred tears ago Sir Cecil Chubb, on a whim, bid 6,600 pounds for thirty acres of land and a pile of rocks at auction. Cecil then became the proud owner of Stonehenge, a gift for his wife. Mrs Chubb, who was probably hoping for a diamond necklace, was less than impressed so in 1918 Cec gave Stonehenge to the people. Stonehenge had never been up for auction before and never will be again.

Cec reckoned that Stonehenge belonged to the people and his only conditions in handing it over were that the entrance fee should never be more than a

shilling and that local residents should have free access.

Armed with this information, plus more information on the net, we returned to Stonehenge and discovered that the “Broom Hilda” car park attendant was a bit tardy (it was 10 AM) so we parked for free. We then walked around the visitor centre, through a paddock and over a hill to Stonehenge. Job done for free, all legal and above board. At the gate I spoke to a Stonehenge/English Heritage employee and told him the previous days story, he said they don’t like to mention that it’s actually free to visit Stonehenge.

With Stonehenge attracting around 1,000,000 visitors a year and paying an average of £10 per head (gross 10,000,000 pounds per year) I’m guessing that’s why it’s not mentioned anywhere. If Mrs Chubb was alive and kept the gift she could have bought lots of lovely diamond necklaces. I wonder what the people at English Heritage are going to spend the money on?

Below: Milepost and various ancient monuments.

Mile post.

Various Ancient Monuments

By the way, if you are looking for excellent Yorkshire pudding with roast meats (and even vegies) you can’t go past Toby’s Carvery, a chain restaurant with good food, great service and outstanding Yorkshire pudding.

Chapter 1.

Garry’s hot spot to visit today was a village called Midsomer, which is not the county in the television series, Midsomer Murders, nor is it the location for filming of the series, none of the actors come from the town and any similarity between the town and any past, present or future murders will be purely coincidental.  Having the correct name however will no doubt boost it’s tourism numbers, probably to the disdain of most of the residents, with the exception of those shops selling Detective Chief Inspector John Barnaby paraphernalia (or Harry Potter/Hogwarts tee shirts which are very big at the moment even in Stratford, previously a Shakespeare tee shirt town).

So here’s the obligatory Midsomer picture so we can get on with something more exciting like the Harry Potter Experience.

I think this qualifies Garry as a bit of an Anorak, but I will have to check with Brian.

Garry about to be clubbed to death with a tablet. Probably as believable as the show, but I’m not sure, never having watched it.

Chapter 2.

Pass the Cheeeese Gromit! A drive to Cheddar Gorge allowed us to view England’s deepest gorge at 425 Feet, have lunch and drive to Stonehenge.

Wallace leaving the Cheese Shop.

Car park from the top of the gorge.

Cheddar Gorge on the edge of the village contains a number of caves, which provided the ideal humidity and steady temperature for maturing cheese.

Chapter 3.

Having seen England’s biggest gorge we headed to Stonehenge only to find it has become, in all probability, England’s biggest tourist trap.

First if you haven’t booked on line you pay a premium for you’re entry ticket, which you cant purchase until you have paid you’re five pounds to park and join a queue at the end of which you pay another twenty odd pounds per person, this will enable you to walk the two kilometres and see the stones from behind the fence. And here’s me thinking this was an ancient national monument that should be free for all to enjoy. What an idiot I am. So did we decide to pay, queue, pay, walk and get a second class look at at a first class monument. Lets just say we took no pictures.

By the way a senior druid is taking legal action against  Wiltshire Council, Wiltshire Police and English Heritage over summer solstice parking charges at Stonehenge because they “unfairly target” his religion. I can see why he would do that.

Bath, famous for hot springs and cool showers (it rained all day).

The “Roman Baths” were originally just hot mud holes. The baths have had a chequered history of being used way before the Romans turned up and developed them. The Romans did a great job but when they left England to defend Rome the baths were left to decay and fall into ruin. The baths have been re-discovered several times since and  their latest incarnation as a tourist attraction is not so far removed from the Romans use as a popular healing centre. The fact that the baths were lined with lead and used lead pipes only helped the prestige of the baths as the Romans saw lead as a great metal suitable for many restorative procedures, mind you they seldom lived past forty. These days the water is considered unsafe as it contains many nasties including the presence of, and recorded death by, Naegleria fowleri (read, meningitis amoeba). The buildings above street level date from the 19th century and were built for a visit by Queen Victoria which didn’t eventuate because someone said she had fat ankles as she prepared to leave the train at Bath, the comment resulted in her getting back on board, closing the blinds and returning from whence she came (a bit touchy about her ankles was our Vicky!).

Ghosts from the past.

The Roman Bath, or Lake Meningitis.

Goddess, Sulis Minerva, making at least one tourist a bit nervous.

Came for the cure, stayed for the burial.

No trip to Bath is complete without a trip to Sally Lunn’s bun shop, The Royal Crescent, The Circus, The Abbey, Pulteney Bridge and Weir, which we have also ticked off the list but the list goes on and on and we have two days all up. The stress is enormous!

Tourists at the Big House.

Tourists at prayer in the church of the selfie stick.

Tourist Circus.

Queuing for Bun.

Pulteney Bridge and Weir. We had coffee at the left hand end shop as we were feeling weiry.

By the way, if you feel like a giant hamburger bun in  the brioche style, then Sally has got a bun for you. Personally I think the best use for a Brioche bun is……. no, maybe I had better keep that to myself.

Historically, the Earl of Mercia, gave the village of Burbage to Coventry Abbey in 1043, which wasn’t much of a gift as it was only valued at two shillings. However by the time of the Domesday Book (survey of England) in 1086, its value had risen to a spectacular £4. There were 150 acres of land with two ploughs plus twenty villagers held two smallholdings, with two slaves and eight ploughs. Burbage also had a meadow and a woodland area half a league by four furlongs (2.2 square kilometres).

These days Burbage is an unassuming suburb of the larger urban area of Hinckley in Leicestershire. It has a right lovely wood, which rates highly for bird watching. With a nearby Cafe that offers a great selection of baked spuds with various fillings I suspect an enthusiastic young twitcher could easily spend a quiet day here checking the ornithological delights. The Burbage Birders recent August sightings include, Spotted Flycatcher, Peragrine, Yellow Wagtail, and a flock of six Spotted Flycatchers, Ee ba gum SIX!

But were not here for the woods or birds were here to visit with Brian Jackson Snr., Brian Jackson Jnr’s dad on our way to Bath. A lovely visit made all the more pleasant by getting the Australian Jacksons out of bed at 9.30 pm.

Group family photograph was interdicted so this is the closest I got to an acceptable family photo (the Jackson Kittlin), I guess we will have to wait for the next opportunity, perhaps after Germany? Germany? What’s this about Germany?

Running a little short of time we gave the twitching a miss and headed straight for Stratford on Avon for what can best be described as “The Disney/Shakespeare Experience”,  very sad to say the least. Bill’s friend Anne had a nice house though.

Anne Hatherway’s cottage.

Bill’s Local Pub?

Jest Fooling.

Baby Billy was born here

On the way to Bath one can, if one desires pass through The Cotswolds. We did and popped in to Upper and Lower Slaughter (Garry’s mother’s family name) with the aim of selecting a potential Slaughter homestead. Garry selected Slaughter Manor House and why not, if you are going to create an image you may as well make it a good one.

Garry’s Granny’s House. Hmmmmmm!

Re-purposed telephone booth

Slaughter Mill

Some of Garry’s second cousins who stayed in England. Perhaps they look a little better for it? Who knows.

Who am I?

I was founded by the Romans in 71 AD.

I am at the confluence of the Rivers Ouse and Foss.

In the Middle Ages, I grew as a major wool trading centre.

In the 19th Century I became a hub of the British railway network and a confectionery manufacturing centre.

I am the traditional county town of a historic county that has a pudding made of eggs flour and milk named after it.

If you said York you would be right! I would also accept Eboracum.

Below on the way to York through the Dales we saw many little pubs like the Happy Heifer, Golden Fleece, Green Dragon, White Stag, Porky Pig, Daffy Duck, Hammer and Chisel blah blah  blah… inventive lot these pub owners…. but then I guess it’s not all beer and skittles, hang on , what a great name for a pub!

By the way, York was founded by the Romans as Eboracum in 71 AD.

That was fun wasn’t it. Now go and knock yourself up a Yorkshire Pudding.

For the first time in some time we have only half a plan for the day. A wander to Lake Windemere and a short walk to what looks like a river cave seem the most likely options. No doubt both will eventuate, punctuated by eating and probably the inevitable shopping for gifts, food and hopefully a drink.

Speaking of wandering my phone has been keeping track of our wanderings and has recorded the following since we left home on the 25th of June:

Kilometres walked – 647    and     Metres climbed – 4239

No wonder my feet hurt.

So to today’s activities:

We walked the river bank.

Looked at the lake.

Spotted a deer, not a spotted deer.

Inspected the fortifications.

Spotted a dozy swan.

Saw a Pigeon.

Past the Church of the Later Day Crumpet, where everyone gets Crumpet …..only guessing mind you.

Found the money tree.

Tried to climb the money tree.

Explored a cave.

Looked at more lake.

So…….. we ate, walked, shopped, drank, and took pictures. Now I think about it, a pretty normal day actually.

I woke up this morning (which is always a good thing) and it took me a while to work out where I was. I knew I was in bed I just wasn’t sure where the bed was geographically, eleven countries in eight weeks will do that to you. It occurred to me that this must have been how Hadrian felt while touring the Roman Empire checking up on the provinces…… “Britania? You’re telling me we’re in Britainia!  I’m sure we were in Britania last week, weren’t we going to Gaul, do we even still own Gaul? or did we lose it to Asterix?”

Publius Aelius Hadrianus (24 January 76 – 10 July 138 AD) when growing up was probably called “Pub” by his play friends. A bit later on he changed his name to Hadrian  which was probably a smart move on his part as it enabled him to become the “tough” sounding Emperor Hadrian instead of a rather “girlie” sounding Emperor Publius which no doubt would have become “Pub” for short. Hadrian was Emperor of the Roman Empire from 127 to 138 AD and he travelled most of the Roman provinces during his rule which must have taken up a lot of his time, the Roman Empire at that stage being a fair chunk of the world. All that travelling is probably the reason he had no children, or none that he wanted to own up to. Anyway as far as the modern day English are concerned Hadrian’s most important legacy is his wall.

Hadrian’s Wall ran eighty miles across the entire width of the Roman province of Britania. It was made of stone, had milecastles, turrets and forts. The idea was that the wall would keep the low life northern Brits (or Northern Barbarians) out of Roman territory and stop them from pilfering Roman stuff that the Romans had previously pilfered from the Southern Brits (or Southern Barbarians). Why the Romans didn’t just conquer the north instead of building a wall and manning it for years defies logic. In the end the Saxons, Angles and Jutes overran the Romans, but parts of the wall remain. See below, and as always click for full size images.

Lanercost Priory pictures follow, Lanercost is half ruin and still a functioning Priory and coincidentally on the way to Hadrian’s Wall.

By the way, I am pretty sure all of Hadrian’s wall still exists it’s just been re-located and re-purposed, it now keeps the numerous flocks of barbarian sheep in the Lakes area from invading the veggie gardens. I base this presumption on the following image which shows walls both sides of the road which from experience are designed to keep the sheep on the road and out of the veggie patch.

“The Struggle” a very steep and narrow road to our temporary house seemingly littered with barbarian sheep.

Barbarian Sheep. Note the evil non caring eyes.

After a long day drive from Inverness (which was warm and dry for a change) we arrived at Ambelside (which was cool and wet as usual). The last section of the drive was via a road descriptively named “The Struggle” The struggle is about one and a little bit car widths, has stone fences either side and is the default resting space for wayward sheep, so it’s typical of most roads in the Lake District. By chance when booking this section of the grand tour of everything, we booked four nights at Ambleside which turns out to be the hot spot of tourism in the Lakes District of England as it is at the head of Lake Windemere, England’s largest lake. Could be OK, Helen Beatrix Potter liked it. Helen was an English writer, illustrator, natural scientist, and conservationist best known for her children’s books featuring animals, such as those in The Tale of Peter Rabbit. “Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were – Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter”.

But that’s more than enough children’s business, we’re here for the pictures.

Ambleside

Home

Tree

Gate

Fence

Me in a hole

Bridge

Ambleside 1925

Fences

Bridge House

Jen

By the Way, what you may not know about Beatrix Potter is that she became a very highly respected sheep breeder and farmer and when she died on 22 December 1943, she left fourteen farms and 4000 acres of land to the National Trust together with her flocks of Herdwick sheep.

Although we have officially left Scotland I feel the trip would not be complete without an explanation of how the tougher Scots spend their weekends.

In 1891 Sir Hugh T Munro used a barometer and made a definitive list of all the mountains in Scotland over 3,000 feet, it turns out there were 282 and they are now called Munros. If you “bag” all the Munros (ie. climb them) you qualify s a “Compleatist” (archaic spelling).

For those less enthusiastic there are also Corbetts which are hills between 2,500 and 3,000ft named after John Rooke Corbett who was a very active member of the Scottish Mountaineering Club. Apparently there are currently 220 Corbetts. How this number is likely to change eludes me, I can only guess a creative person could build there own Corbett.

For those lazy people out there the Scots have identified Grahams which are are hills between 2,000 and 2,499ft. They used to be known as Lesser Corbetts (LC’s or Elsies) but the name was changed to Graham in memory of Fiona Torbet (nee Graham) who published her own list of these hills in 1992.

Munroists accessing the no doubt soon to be renamed “Inaccessible Pinnacle”

By the way, It is very unlikely that any of the current party will bag any Munros, Corbetts or Grahams this year.