England
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Myths And Legends At Tintagel
There is more than just a sense of history as we approach the remains of the castle: Tintagel is the home of legends and mysteries, of royalty, magic and intrigue. Its setting is utterly dramatic on the colossal Atlantic coastline where rocky cliffs tower above the relentless ocean, the ruins split in half where erosion has broken through the rocks to turn a former headland into an island. Consequently half of the ruins of this complicated structure remain on the Cornish mainland, the other half on the island joined to the land by a bridge of recent construction. The voices of history echo in the walls and outcrops, the wind…
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Michaela’s Favourite Photographs: #5 Ten Years Ago
Rugby, England, 2013. OK so this one isn’t a travel photograph but it’s definitely one of our favourites, and one which touches our hearts every time we look at it. This is the only time that these two wonderful people ever met, two people who were huge influences on our respective lives and two people who will remain in our hearts for ever. My Dad meets Michaela’s Nan, Stanley meets Yvonne. We have no idea to this day what he’s just said to her to make Yvonne laugh like this. But this photograph is special: we love and miss them both. This is their one and only meeting, on our…
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The Wonder Of Chartwell
Chartwell House England, home of Winston Churchill
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Ancient Homes And Shifting Sands
After the stillness of the last few days, today feels a bit more like old school February, the coastal wind bringing a chill factor which makes a nonsense of the official temperature figures, cutting in via the rib cage and exiting the body somewhere just south of the shoulder blades. In any lee-side location, the lukewarm sunshine teases with a kiss: turn a corner and your body braces involuntarily against the cold. The dark afternoon clouds bring tiny hailstones which dance across the ground like mini ping-pong balls, darting into corners where they threaten to drift but then melt away quickly without a trace. It was incredibly cold up by…
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February Days In England
The stillness of a windless February day in England is a stillness unlike any other. Even the most stirring of places becomes a sensory underload, sound deadened by the absence of birdsong, colours diluted like too-thin water paints, no breeze to carry scents, no leaves to decorate the woodland. Gorse splashes its yellow blotches on to the clifftops but carries no fragrance, its delectable musk scent absent yet for another month or two. Gulls’ cries sound forlorn and lonely, the occasional rasp of a jackdaw only serves to accentuate the stillness. If a skylark takes flight, its song is truncated, a burst of panic more than a trill of joy.…
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These Cornish Things
In our last blog post we discussed how unseasonable the current weather is, feeling far too mild to be cusp November. After over four decades of visiting Cornwall I really should have known better, for my comeuppance arrives swiftly and with a vengeance, in the form of howling gales and unforgiving hailstorms. Walking from Rock to Polzeath is a doddle, the morning clouds banished by the strong winds which, coming from behind, propel us along the coast path at roughly twice our normal walking speed. The return walk couldn’t be more different. Just in time for reaching the part of the path furthest from shelter, those winds, now head on…
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Changing Times, Different Moods
It definitely didn’t used to be like this, not when we were kids. Growing up in the Midlands – Michaela in the West Midlands and me in Derbyshire – it was cold by now and it had been so for weeks. October got progressively colder, frosts a regular morning feature, whitened cobwebs draped like lace across rockery plants and garden shrubs, the walk to school taking place with the protection of coats, hats, scarves, gloves. Hallowe’en was a non-event, just another night in the build up to Guy Fawkes Night aka Bonfire Night, but by the time we were standing back and watching the pyrotechnics light up the night sky,…
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Mystique & Magic In Avalon
The alarm clock is sounding, dragging me out of the vivid dreams which have no doubt been triggered by the need to rise early. Funny, for most of my working life a 5:10 alarm after about five hours’ sleep was the norm for 25 years or more – now, after three years of retirement, 6:30 feels like early morning and there is a glue holding my eyelids in place. Cold water on the face, caffeine in the gut, and we’re off. We’re up and about for a reason, not only are we travelling down to our beloved Cornwall for a week, but we’re detouring en route to Glastonbury, just over…
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Borderline Ridiculous
I think it’s fair to say that my relationship with technology is an unsteady one. Machines and gadgets which work perfectly well in the hands of others quickly malfunction once I get involved. It’s not just technology either: for instance, hand driers in public toilets often don’t respond to my presence and I’ve sometimes had to ask some mystified stranger to put his hands under the sensor in order to get the damn thing to work. Touch screens, even at cashpoints, are unpredictable, iphones and ipads pass into mysterious phases which only Michaela can dispel, and when I was working, my ability to bring any machine or IT gadget to…
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Art, Wine And Walks In Suffolk: Italy Next
After leaving Phil at the airport for his boys trip to Spain, I headed to Lowestoft in Suffolk to spend a few days with my Mum, needless to say it was a somewhat more sedate trip than Phil’s. So many trips to our English east coast have been blighted by the English weather but on this occasion I was lucky enough to have beautiful blue skies for most of the time. I always enjoy time spent with Mum and with the weather in our favour we enjoyed plenty of coastal walks and the Suffolk countryside. Art featured lots too, with Mum being an established Suffolk artist @normareadartist we spent time…
