A close encountner with a seagull

Picture: courtesy of freenature.com

Last week I was on my way to Brighton railway station, to catch a train to Newhaven, when I was attacked by a seagull.

Inevitably, everyone that I spoke to found this incredibly funny, but I was left rather shaken by the event. I was simply walking along a street of terraced houses in Brighton when I received a hard 'thud' to the back of my head, followed by much cawing from a specific seagull. When I put my hand up to rub the spot, my hand came back covered in blood, so I can only presume the gull's beak had dug in.

Apparently, this is not a particularly rare event. For a start, it's nesting season, so the gulls are particularly protective of the area around their nests. Secondly, Brighton has replaced kerbside collections of plastic bags and wheelie bins with large new communal bins. These, whilst controversial, have at least been effective in reducing the amount of food debris strewn around the place, which has dried up a major part of their food supply, so making the seagulls that bit more frantic.

And I for one shall certainly be wearing a hat when I walk along that street for the next few weeks...

A thought on celebrity...

With the news media dominated today by the news of Michael Jackson's death, it set me wondering about the modern appeal of celebrity.

Mr Jackson illustrated, perhaps more than most, the terrible price that fame can extract: a number of tributes have testified to his loneliness and how unhappy his childhood was. And all this hard on the heels of Susan Boyle's well-publicised strugles to cope with the surge of media attention after her appearance on "Britain's Got Talent".

Yet, still we seem obsessed with celebrity, whether deserved (as in Mr Jackson's case) or not (as in the case of the late Jade Goody). Perhaps now might be a time to ponder whether a focus on more important issues , more lasting pleasures, and hard-earned, real achievement would be a good thing for our society?

Barcelona's new airport terminal

Barcelona's shiny new airport terminal opened this week, and very impressive it is, too. Shaped like a futuristic plane (rather resembling something out of Star Wars, I recall), it is beautifully finished inside and out, and the Catalans are justly proud of the this new addition to their infrastructure.

The departures area is particularly spacious and airy, with an enormous shopping zone called the 'Sky Centre' - the complex overall boasts 73 shops and 43 bars and restaurants. The only downer for now is that the train and metro links will not be completed for a few years yet, necessitating a change onto a shuttle bus from the railway station at the old terminal.

But that may sound a little grudging, particularly as it succeeded in handling 35,000 passengers and 250 flights on its opening day without a hitch - in rather sharp contrast to the fiasco of Heathrow's T5 opening: an achievement which leaves me wondering why it is that major projects in the UK always seem to be beset with teething troubles...

Epitaphs

A visit to the churchyard where my partner's ancestors are buried brought home to me the lost art of writing epitaphs. Some time around the late 18th century we seem to have lost the art - or the confidence - to write interesting epitaphs which are not either hopelessly mawkish or sentimental. Two of my favourites - both from Sussex churches read thus:

The first is to one John Parson, dated 1633, in West Tarring churchyard. It carries a short, deftly informative but painfully evocative verse:

Young was his age
Virginity his state
Learning his love
Consumption his fate

A more philosophical one can be found in the porch of St Nicholas' church in Poling: It is dedicated to Alice, the wife of Robert Woolldridge, who died on 27th May 1740, aged 44 years. It has a wonderful rhyme, and one which is not entirely inappropriate for our own celebrity- and wealth-obsessed times:

The World is a round thing
And full of crooked streets
Death is a market place
Where all Men meets
If Life was a thing
That money could buy
The Rich would live
And the Poor would dye

I wonder if you could get away with saying that, now?

Ideal Home time again

The walkway I use to and from the underground station at Earl's Court is constantly thronged by people, so I surmise the Ideal Home show must have arrived at Earl's Court exhibition centre. (That also helps explain the puzzle of why Ikea posters have appeared all over the station like a rash).

This year the whole thing seems a little subdued, however. I suppose an event so inherently built on the idea of property ownership is bound to have lost some of its glow, given the slide in house prices and the fact that it was the housing bubble that helped get us into the current mess.

Still, there still seem to be plenty of stalwarts intent on a good day out. The publicity promises a very different event from the ones I was dragged around when I was a child. Although the show homes are still there, the emphasis is as much on the outside as the inside these days, with gardening makeovers as popular as new gadgets (noticeably fewer of those emerging with the crowds, this year). And the visitors make good fodder for the rounds of TV programmes filmed in the exhibition - is it me, or is there something faintly ironic about going to look at an exhibition and then being filmed yourself?

Most interestingly of all, however, are the posters that I have finally noticed, promoting the sponsors, EDF. They are bright pink, and make quite a big thing about CO2 emissions and climate change. Now that's an encouraging sign of the times.

St Botolph's Church, Hardham

This tiny, whitewashed church is tucked away just a few miles south of Pulborough, is one of Sussex's oldest and most fascinating.

Dating from the 11th Century (claimed to be 1050 AD), this Saxon foundation contains Roman tiles in its walls, presumably re-used form the earlier Roman settlement sited in the area. The windows are, for the most part, of the Saxon or early Norman style, very narrow and with rounded heads.

But the real reason for a visit is that Hardham contains what may be England's earliest mediaeval wall paintings, and certainly one of the most complete decorative schemes to survive. Dating from shortly after 1100 AD, they are in amazing condition for their age, with vivid colours. They cover every wall.

The subjects include an oddly anatomical Adam and Eve (above), the Annunciation, scenes from the life of Christ, and St George (in classic 11th century armour, riding a fine white charger) killing the Dragon.

Hardham has a regular church service at 11am on Sundays, but it is often open in the daytime for visitors. (Hooray!).

To get there head south out of Pulborough on the A29 towards Arundle. Slow down and prepare to turn left as soon as you pass the sign telling you that you are entering Hardham: the turn is not signposted in advance, and appears like a track, although you can see some half-timbered houses in the distance. The church is half way along this lane, and will amply reward a half hour of anyone's time.

The Six Bells in Penmark

It's often hard to find somewhere to go for a decent meal without breaking the bank in these days of economic uncertainty, so here's a suggestion following a recent visit to my folks in South Wales: located in the tiny village of Penmark in the Vale of Glamorgan, the Six Bells is a traditional pub with a small restaurant and function room.

Penmark itself is a small but delightful village, close to Cardiff Airport. It has a single main street, a church and the remains of a 12th century castle, once home to the Umfraville family (shades of 'Tess...'). The Pub itself has a traditional bar area with a low ceiling, wooden beams and a tiled floor and a large fireplace, which is home to a roaring fire in winter. There's a second bar on the other side of the servery leading to an airy, modern dining room, although I prefer the cosier side myself. They serve real ales (essential), which on my visit included Hancock's HB and Old Speckled Hen.

They also serve food with a decent menu of pub grub favourites and a slightly more upmarket menu for the evenings with the likes of steak and sea bass. They also have a daily selection of traditional desserts and a Welsh cheese board. On Sunday lunchtimes they do a traditional roast, for which it is advisable to book.

We had a family meal there recently, and the food was both well cooked and very good value indeed, with everything freshly prepared - be warned that some of the portions can be on the generous side, so if you want pudding, you may want to skip the starters! Although they weren't terribly busy with diners (it was a Saturday lunchtime), service was spot on, and all the staff were very friendly and helpful.

The pub has strong competition locally, as neighbouring villages feature the Blue Anchor (a genuine 'olde worlde' building with excellent real ales and a more upmarket restaurant) and the Fox & Hounds at Llancarfan (also well known for its food, but pricier). The Six Bells sensibly goes for something slightly different, and scores on fresh, good value food and the friendliness of its service.

Worth looking out for.

Practicalities: It has a large car park tucked behind the building, so parking is straightforward. It is accessed by a minor road (signposted to Penmark) off the B4265 Cardiff Airport - Llantwit Major Road.