Notes from Brighton

Commuting...

2011-09-26T13:18:00.005+01:00

Well, I've had a month so far of my new daily routine of commuting from Brighton to London in the rush hours.

It's been an interesting but often depressing experience. Until now, I've travelled for work mostly off-peak, when things have seem to have run pretty smoothly. But so far, my regular inbound trains (one of the extended Gatwick Expresses) have been unfailingly late. Sometimes only by 5 minutes, and other times up to 40 minutes. But not one has actually arrived at the stated time: and that is with the slower, peak-time services which all take over an hour from London to Brighton (though I realise they make a few more stops).

Of course, I realise the performance figures refer to trains being on time if they arrive within 10 minutes of the scheduled time, but it seems the figures in the low 90s in percentage terms must be largely determined all those relatively empty trains running off-peak; peak services seem to be much more fragile.

And, is it my bad luck I've had four major incidents - roughly one a week - so far? These include a man who had climbed under a train (5 hour delay), a broken rail (3 hour delay), and the recent problem with Balcombe tunnel (where the lining needed emergency repairs). On that day I didn't even make it into work.

And of course this for well over £3,000 a year. I may rent a room up in town...

Les Vacances de M. Hulot

2011-07-11T23:36:00.004+01:00

The other night I visited a friend for the evening and we spent a delightful couple of hours watching the first feature film of the celebrated French mime artist, Jacques Tati.

If you've never seen it, Les Vacances de M. Hulot (Mr Hulot's Holidays) is a wonderfully gentle comedy set in post-war France, depicting the middle classes at play on holiday at the seaside in Brittany. There's no need to speak French: what little dialogue there is plays a very definite second fiddle to the visual comedy. The feel is something like a cross between an Ealing Comedy and Mr Bean: it's all very gentle, subtle yet often absurd, and beautifully executed.

It made me want to rush back to France, yet I know that the world he so lovingly captured has largely gone (except for the food, of course). Our own homage to Tati's cinematography was suitably enhanced by a lovely French Sauvignon Blanc - what else?

Music at St Bartholomew

2011-06-20T16:28:00.005+01:00

On Saturday, as I was walking past St Bartholomew's church, a small billboard caught my eye saying "church open: come and listen to the orchestra rehearse".

The said orchestra was the Sussex Symphony Orchestra, being conducted by Mark James with Pavlos Carvalho as guest cellist, and they were indeed rehearsing for the Gala Concert that night (alas, fully booked), with pieces by Mahler, Dvorak and Ravel.

It was a wonderful interlude to the day's chores, magnificent music in the eerie but magnificent setting of this iconic church.

Brighton Station Tour

2011-06-04T20:58:00.009+01:00

The annual Brighton Festival and Fringe is rightly well known for its music, theatre, art and some downright quirky entertainment. But perhaps less well known are the tours that take you to some of the lesser known corners of familiar landmarks. And today I've been on one which I would highly recommend to anyone with an interest in local history - a tour of Brighton station, organised and led by the irrepressible Jackie Marsh-Hobbs.

As well as a short talk on the history of the station, with some wonderful old prints, plans and photographs to illustrate it, we walked around parts not normally accessible to the public. Completed in 1841, the main building is unusual for still being in use as an active part of the station, albeit with Victorian and later additions: most of its contemporaries have been replaced or demolished. Designed by David Mocatta, it still has its original cantilevered staircases at either end, complete with decorative ironwork balustrades.

We visited the site of the original cab road, now buried under platform 7; the old subterranean goods tunnel, which runs from the Shoreham lines to the old goods yard - now part rifle range and part disused Second World War control rooms (picture below); and finally the horse hospital (yes, really) and Stablemaster's house on the southern side of the station, today home to a bicycle rental business.But for me, perhaps best bit of all was the wonderful interior view of the 1882 train shed from one of the of station offices at first floor level, looking over the roofs of the trains. The curved, glazed roofs are simply magnificent.

The tours book up quickly: catch one next year!

Bluebells

2011-05-08T18:34:00.008+01:00

Despite Sussex's reputation for bluebells and the famous Bluebell Railway, I'd never done a bluebell walk before - until yesterday, that is.

There's a farm near Arlington, near Lewes, which specialises in bluebell walks through nearby woodland, with a tea shop and stalls selling cards, plants, books and locally made preserves at the end. They've been opening up to the public every Spring for 39 years. (Details can be found at Bluebell Walk Arlington.) Takings go towards local charities.

Although - thanks to the dry weather and recent thunderstorms - the flowers were past their best, the walk was still very impressive. As they say, a picture paints a thousand words, so here are a few.

Brighton Festival

2011-05-06T22:44:00.001+01:00

Had a bit of a break over Easter in Berlin. Great place. Will be back.

And have come back to find the Brighton festival in full swing. I've been emailing a friend to try to decide which fringe events to go to, and have decided that it's too exhausting ploughing through the brochure. You can have too much choice...

Instead, I think I'll go for one of the Open House art trails. They are a great way to see a bit of the city and enjoy some varied art at the same time - so long as the weather holds...

A spell of good weather...

2011-04-12T18:07:00.011+01:00

...really lifts the spirits. I went biking with a mate on each of the last two weekends, enjoying the dry and settled weather. It helps blow the cobwebs away, and we visited a clutch of interesting mediaeval churches in East Sussex last Sunday, following some wonderful back roads, before ending up in a very nice pub (the Six Bells in Chiddingly). Worth going back to at some point, I think...

One discovery was the grave of Malcolm Lowry in the churchyard of St John the Baptist in the village of Ripe. He wrote 'Under the Volcano', one of the most highly regarded novels of the 20th century, but died tragically young, in his forties, thanks to a formidable drinking habit. It would be hard to find a place more different from the setting of the novel: Ripe is as tranquil as rural England gets.

Black Cap and Warningore Bostall

2011-04-01T17:26:00.011+01:00

I took a walk last week-end from Falmer to Plumpton, walking via a short stretch of the South Downs Way, passing over the area on the ridge of the Downs called Black Cap.

This is one of the summits of this stretch of the Downs, rising to 206m (676ft). There are signs of Bronze Age and Saxon burials, with a number of low tumuli. The summit looks southwards down onto Ashcombe Bottom, an area of natural woodland, coppiced hazel and areas of open glades, with exceptional biodiversity of plants and butterflies.

To the north are splendid views of the Sussex Weald, as well as an ancient track-way leading down towards Chiltington called the Warningore Bostall.

This is a steep sided track, worn down over the centuries by flocks of sheep being moved up and down the hillside from the Weald to the Downs. It's quite a dramatic man-made feature. This really is a special area, and home to nine species of orchid and - at the right time of the year - clouds of butterflies.

Preston Park

2011-03-24T17:31:00.001Z

I walked through Preston Park on my way to a meeting this morning. Alas, sans camera, but the weather was just perfect: cool, with a hint of a warm breeze, and glorious, glorious sunshine. After such a grim, grey winter, whose spirits could it not lift?

West Pier, Brighton, in the Vernal Equinox

2011-03-23T13:19:00.004Z

The recent 'big moon' phenomenon, caused by the Moon passing at its nearest distance (perigee) while on its orbit around our home planet, for 18 years. But another facet of this was that the recent Equinoxial Spring tide also resulted in unusually high (and low) tides.

This was captured beautifully by my friend Giorgina, who took the photo above, showing the remains of Brighton's West Pier standing almost above the tide line, the tide was so far out...

Another grey day

2011-02-22T10:03:00.003Z

It seems to have been a particularly grim start to 2011.

There are lots of reasons for me in this, but it is not helped by the continued grey weather, interspersed with drizzle and heavier rain. Last Thursday was an exception - a beautiful, bright day, almost Spring-like, and it was noticeable just how everyone's spirits were lifted.

This is unusual for Brighton, in my experience; one of the reasons I like the place is because it has a higher than average sunny day count compared with much of the UK.

Sorry for a grey post. Roll on Spring...

A jolly Christmas tree

2011-01-09T18:49:00.003Z

OK, so this about our new home and not much about Brighton, but I thought that now we are in the gloomy and cold post-Christmas period, I would recall some festive cheer with a posting of our Christmas tree, from our first Christmas in the new place.

We had meant to get a real, living tree this year but, with the snow and other commitments, I couldn't find one in time, so we reverted to our trusty artificial tree. I read somewhere that the carbon footprint of an artificial tree is only lower than a real tree after it has been used for 10-12 years, so we're quids in as it is much more venerable than that.

And, having combined two households into one, we ended up with rather a lot of baubles, so it is definitely not what you'd call designer or restrained...

More on the snow

2010-12-08T14:06:00.005Z

Despite all the complaints about the snow, I witnessed a very encouraging example of good neighbourliness in the street where I live; two people who live further down cleared the pavement of snow along one side of the road, from one end of the street to the other. They were helped by the young son of one them, who put a bag of grit on his sled, happily scattering it along the way.

There has been a lot of debate about what the Tory policy of the 'Big Society' might mean, but it strikes me this is a perfect example of it; an unrequested, altruistic act of practical help.

A second year of snow

2010-12-07T12:29:00.004Z

Just when you thought it was safe to put away the thermals, we get a second year of freezing, snowy weather. This one seems to have taken public transport more by surprise than last year, with trains badly disrupted, although to be fair Brighton got their buses back on the streets quicker than before.

Temperatures in this normally mild coastal city dropped to a chilly -8.7C before a rapid thaw last weekend, although the mercury has dropped well below freezing again today.

Moving home...

2010-10-24T17:52:00.004+01:00

Regular followers will have noticed something of an interruption to this blog, for which many apologies. But we have been moving house. Now, this is something I hadn't done properly for 17 years, (not counting moving into my other half's flat last winter when most of my stuff went into storage).

They say that moving home is one of the most stressful things you can do, up there with losing your job, getting divorced and even bereavement. But I confess that I'd never found it that difficult - until now. Perhaps it's an age thing. When I last moved I was still in my early 30s and had the enthusiasm of fresh starts and all that (not to mention lots of energy, unproblematic knees and no bad back).

I am now firmly in middle age, and one of the things I am slowly finding out is how my tolerance of disturbance (of any kind) is diminishing. Perhaps I really am turning into my father...

It didn't help that on our first morning, when still surrounded by boxes up to chest height in just about every room, my partner had a shower, only for a good portion of the water to cascade into the lounge which I had spent the best part of the previous week painting. It turns out the seal around the bath was failing, and the bath itself sinking gradually into floorboards softened by being periodically soaked.

On the positive side, my Vicar recommended a good plumber who came to the rescue that day. (Definitely a prayer answered). After a lot of huffing and puffing, he and his mate built a new platform to support the bath, replaced the seal, and split the tiled bath panel in half so that, in future, getting access under the bath will not require removing the washbasin and shower screen.

After a start like that, it's hardly suprising the next few weeks were stressful. My other half took one day off work, leaving me to sort out the house, as I'd cleared my work diary for most of August in the anticipation that I'd not get much work done anyway. That turned out to be much truer than I had thought possible, thanks - or rather, no thanks - to BT.

All we had requested was our old number and account to be switched to our new address - a simple and regular enough task, you would have thought?

Oh no. No - no, no, no, no.

It has taken two months, and 14 phone calls to 11 different staff to sort out the total mess that was created: no line at all for a week after we moved in; a grand total of 4 other numbers allocated to us before we got the one we wanted; two separate accounts and a byzantine puzzle of payments (that I am still not sure are finally correct, although we now have approaching £100 of repayments, corrections and compensation on various of the 8 bills we have been sent); and, to cap it all, no broadband for 6 weeks. (Hence no blog).

And that's the short version: one of the biggest problems has been trying to explain the ever worsening situation to a succession of hapless staff who, despite their best efforts, have usually managed to take me two steps forward and one (or two) steps back, so at each turn something else has gone wrong and the tale has become yet more complicated. Theseus had an easier time negotiating the Cretan Labyrinth. Unbelievable.

Still, 2 months on, we're now almost settled; we have broadband; just 4 more boxes to unpack, some minor building work timetabled before Christmas; and we're looking forward to our first Christmas in our new home.

Watch this space...

Devil's Dyke

2010-08-03T21:17:00.003+01:00

The other weekend I did a wonderful walk starting out from Devil's Dyke, situated on the South Downs, north of Brighton.

Although this time I walked down and away from the Dyke, it makes for a great afternoon out in its own right: superb views, good walks, and (the least good bit) a pub. It’s a great place to fly a kite as it’s almost always windy (though sometimes too windy for flimsy modern kites…), although you’ll be competing for air-space with hang-gliders and micro-light aircraft. The whole hilltop is classified as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

The Dyke itself is a natural geological feature, formed by melt water at the end of the last Ice Age: it’s a short, very steeply sided V-shaped valley, which cuts into the north face of the South Downs, above the village of Poynings. The Dyke is only 1km long and narrows from 400m to a blind point, but is over 200m deep, making it the deepest true dry valley in Britain (ie, with no waterway) and, some say, in the world.

The name comes from a wonderful (and more entertaining) legend. Apparently furious at the conversion of the peoples of the Weald to Christianity, the Devil decided to dig a dyke through the South Downs, so the sea could flow in and drown their villages. To ensure his efforts were not discovered until it was too late, he decided to dig it over a single night. However, his toils woke an old woman, who lit a candle: this then woke her cockerel, who began to crow. Seeing the light and hearing the cockerel, the Devil was fooled into thinking it was dawn, and rushed off with his work uncompleted, and the Weald was saved.

The adjacent hilltop was first settled by Iron Age fort builders, who found the natural spur formed by the Dyke to be a superb defensive site. The remains of their earth ramparts can still be traced, albeit with some difficulty. But the beauty of the place gradually attracted more visitors, and in 1887 a railway was built from Brighton to bring visitors up to the Dyke. This proved a runaway success – an astounding 30,000 of them visited the Dyke on Whit Monday in 1893, and over a million during 1897.

By the turn of the 19th century, the Dyke had a hotel, a 360m aerial cable-car across the Dyke, and a two-tracked funicular railway 250m down to Poynings. Alas, the short season and high costs forced the closure of these attractions by 1910, although the railway from Brighton survived until 1938. The faint remains of the cable-car and funicular can also be found at the site if you look closely. The hotel survived, later to be replaced by a refreshment room, the predecessor of to-day’s pub.

You can get there by road (it's well signposted off the A27) or by an open-topped bus service from Brighton (daily in the summer), or for the more energetic, via the South Downs Way.

Arlington Reservoir

2010-07-14T15:55:00.005+01:00

I recently did a walk around Arlington reservoir, as part of a longer walk from Berwick station to Eastbourne. I am constantly surprised at what I find near Brighton - Berwick is less than half an hour away by train, and yet this is a lovely spot, with great views, lots of wildlife, and nice cooling breezes on a hot day. It's also easily accessible by car, with a good car park, picnic tables and toilets.

Strongly recommended for a good family day out.

An amazing tree

2010-06-25T10:27:00.007+01:00

I came across this amazing tree when visiting the church at Birdham, south of Chichester. It was more interesting than the church - it's like a living sculpture.

It is a Macrocarpa, native to California, for anyone interested. Or an Ent, if you are a fan of 'Lord of the Rings'...

Nearly fledged

2010-06-21T16:12:00.003+01:00

Well, with England's current performance at the World Cup a spectacle too painful to view, it's been back to watching the seagulls nesting instead. The two surviving chicks are now distinctly larger, and walking around.

Only a matter of a few weeks before they try their hand at flying, no doubt.

What a difference a week makes...

2010-06-09T14:07:00.004+01:00

...to the seagull chicks. They've gone from very small balls of fluff to more independently minded chicks, and are already beginning to wander around the chimney top. This, of course, makes them more vulnerable on their exposed home to the rooks, magpies and other birds (not to mention other seagulls), so we'll have to wait and see what happens next.

In the meantime, I'm keeping a wary eye out for the mother when I leave our front door.

The seagulls are nesting...

2010-06-02T13:38:00.003+01:00

...on top of the chimney of the house opposite.

There are two chicks that I can see, both being fed at frequent intervals by their parents.

For those interested in the technical details they are the ubiquitous Herring gulls, Larus argentatus.

Anyone walking along the street needs to watch out, as gulls can be very protective of their chicks - as I found out to my cost last year.

The best cities to live in?

2010-05-28T14:55:00.005+01:00

Wednesday saw the publication of Mercer's 2010 Quality of Living survey, reported by many news sites as 'the best cities in which to live'.

The annual survey is prepared by Mercer Consulting in New York and ranks cities by a range of criteria, such as access to work, the availability of housing and services, the cost of living, the level of crime, and so on.

The results are very interesting, not to say controversial. Vienna retains the top spot from 2009 as the city with the world’s best quality of living, with Zurich and Geneva following in second and third position, while Vancouver and Auckland remain joint fourth in the rankings. Dusseldorf, Frankfurt, Munich, Bern and Sydney make the up the remaining top 10.

Read the message boards across the media and there is a hot debate as to how places like Bern and Luxembourg manage to rate more highly than Barcelona or Paris, or why no city from the USA features in the top 30 and - even more controversially - only two Asian cities feature in the top 40. The preponderance of European and German-speaking cities has led to accusations of Eurocentricism, and a preference for the 'clean but dull' over the 'messy but interesting'. In the UK, London is the highest-ranking city at 39, followed by newcomer to the list Aberdeen (53), Birmingham (55), Glasgow (57) and Belfast (63), but many will be surprised at the absence of Edinburgh or Bristol.

The great difficulty of such surveys is that different people would use different criteria for what constitutes 'Quality of Life'. Although Mercer have gone to great lengths to try to be objective (and claim that it is objective), the very choice and weighting of criteria is, of itself, a very subjective business.

Perhaps the Mercer project might equally be entitled 'the best governed cities', since items like public services, crime and public transportation rank so highly. Had 'governance' been chosen in the title, I suspect many commentators would have been less worried. Issues such as the ethnic diversity of the city and the climate are critical factors for many people's quality of life (for good or bad), but the former doesn't feature at all, and the latter is but part of the 'natural environment' criterion. And if you are a soccer fan or a water-sports enthusiast, access to a UEFA league club or the coast might be completely essential.

Of course, the Index is designed to be used by global organisations and governments posting people around the world. Even so, the idea that the average person would prefer to be posted to Bern or Dusseldorf over Paris, New York, Hong Kong or London, will seem to many as a little odd.

And, alas, Brighton doesn't even get a mention...

Getting the message across on civic responsibility

2010-04-01T15:25:00.006+01:00

No, this is not an April fool.

We came across this wonderful leaflet recently while in Catalonia, just south of Barcelona. It's all about keeping your neighbourhood clean. It actually covers all forms of litter and rubbish, but I loved the direct but humorous approach adopted in the picture, which shows a group of happily dancing dog turds!

You couldn't imagine that approach being adopted in the UK...

Do you know what you are wearing?

2010-01-31T18:13:00.004Z

Escaping the cold of the UK for a little warmth (relatively speaking) in

off-season Spain

, we came across several examples of a rather puzzling Spanish phenomenon which you don’t normally see in busy resorts: clothing with bizarrely inappropriate English phrases on them.

In a rather cosmopolitan bar, the owner had a T-shirt proudly suggesting, “Kill the yuppie bastards”; in a busy shopping street, a rather conservative-looking middle-aged man proudly sports a pullover emblazoned, “Doggy Style”; and, most bizarrely of all, a handsome father, young son in hand, who walked towards us on the beach wearing a sweat-shirt boldly proclaiming, “I take it up the bum”.

Now, said father may or may not indulge in this particular practice, but it strikes me as bizarre that it wouldn’t cross his mind to check the meaning of the words proclaimed across his torso to the world. Perplexed, we asked a Spanish friend to explain what we had observed, and he confirmed what we suspected: that English of any kind on clothing is regarded by some as fashionable; that they trust the manufacturers not to play games at their expense; and that they don't have a clue what the words on the garment actually mean.

Which prompts us to consider the motives of those who design such products? Do they really intend to humiliate their customers, or do they regard it as some sort of huge sartorial joke? Is it the revenge of a slighted designer upon a monolingual wholesaler, or a bored youth in the Far East wondering what he can get away with? Whatever the answer, some of the said customers are going to get a nasty shock one day but, until then, are hopefully walking around in contented, ignorant bliss.

Which reminds me: some years back, I brought my other half a gift from Japan in the form of a light cotton day-kimono, or yakuta. It is emblazoned with Japanese characters, the meaning of which, of course, I am ignorant. Perhaps I should check them out…

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

2010-01-04T17:31:00.005Z

One thing I did not expect in moving to the sunny South Coast was to find myself housebound by snow. But the week-end before Christmas, that is exactly what happened. We had around 5 inches of snow on Thursday night, which then thawed slightly, and re-froze.

I managed to get out happily enough on the Friday, thanks to a good pair of boots, as I had to go to London. For once the railways had got their preparations right, and the trains ran almost on time, albeit with a slightly reduced service frequency. But over the weekend, the lack of preparation in Brighton itself showed with a lamentable lack of snow-clearing from the roads and pavements except for those in the centre. As a result, our street was a veritable ice rink, and remained so until Monday afternoon.

Still, for a while, it made the town look very festive in the run-up to Christmas...

Brighton Architecture II

2009-12-17T08:30:00.009Z

The Church of St Michael and All Angels, Victoria Road, by Bodley and Burgess, contains notable pre-Raphaelite stained glass.

Brighton's other important architectural legacy is its stock of Victorian churches. Brighton had a frenzy of church building in the mid to late 19th Century. A significant number of these were the result of the efforts of the Wagners, father and son. They were keen exponents of the Tractarian tradition, which reintroduced traditional Catholic ritual to worship and liturgy, and they used their considerable wealth to build over half a dozen churches. The most important include St Paul's in West Street with its collection of stained glass by Pugin, and the astonishingly vast St Bartholomew's in Ann Street.

The city has an interesting range of earlier Victorian churches, reflecting the change in tastes from Classical to Neo-Gothic architecture, as well as a stock of very early (and often quaintly humble) mediaeval churches from villages it absorbed as it expanded. A good example is Ovingdean, below, founded during the Anglo-Saxon period.

Brighton Architecture - part I

2009-11-19T10:30:00.005Z

One of the joys of Brighton is, of course, its architecture, from the famous terraces of Georgian houses to an impressive stock of Victorian churches. Some of the best set-pieces are, of course, in Hove (actually) rather than Brighton itself, but now that the former two towns are a joint city, I feel able to include them both!

...and hello to the South Coast

2009-11-18T16:11:00.004Z

Well, here I am in my first week as a Brightonian. Although I have spent a lot of time here, this is the first time that it has been my main home. The 60mph gales are a bit of a breezy welcome, but that's all part of the package of living by the sea. I was brought up less than half a mile of the Bristol Channel, however, so I'm used to it.

Anyway, attached is a photo from a slightly calmer day!

And farewell!

2009-11-17T22:56:00.003Z

So, after a few months of to-ing and fro-ing, yesterday saw us at last move out of the flat in Earl's Court that we have called home for the last 13 years. The stairs proved a challenge for our removers, especially with the large wardrobes, but they triumphed in the end and all went smoothly.

So, it's good-bye to London and hello to Brighton! Thanks for reading - and watch this space as it may transmogrify...!

This may be the beginning of a goodbye...

2009-09-08T18:18:00.000+01:00

...from West London.

I have just accepted an offer on my flat in West London and, whilst I know not to count my chickens until the deal is done, it could mean the end of life there - at least for a while. I'll be looking to buy a house in Brighton, and then the plan is for my partner to buy a small pied-a-terre back in town.

Of course, this is also the beginnig of what we are told is one of the most stressful possible life events, so also watch out for the odd frustrated blog!!

Train vs Plane

2009-09-04T19:22:00.007+01:00

My partner and I recently went to Limoges (in France) for the wedding of some good friends of ours from London. When we got the invitation, one of the first questions was (of course) how to get there. We don't have a car, so driving was out: apart from the cost of car hire, the thought of driving 800-odd miles on a week-end - and the August Bank Holiday in the UK to boot - was just too much.

That left public transport. A quick bit of research showed that the options were to fly with either Ryanair from Stansted, bmi from Southampton, or take the train all the way.

A check on the dates proved that bmi was going to be too expensive, so that ruled them out. Ryanair started well enough with the low initial fare, but of course - as anyone who has used their website will know - the add-ons creep up pretty quickly. Because we would have to take check-in luggage (I suppose you could get a man's suit in hand luggage, but you really don't the French laughing at the sartorial faux pas of wearing anything so crumpled), we would have to pay the fees for checking in the luggage and, if you do that, no-one in the party can check in on-line, so adding the cost of boarding passes for each person for each leg of the flight. Add in taxes and the booking fee, and the whole thing rapidly soared over the £200 mark. And, of course, for us there's the cost of getting to Stansted to add in, not to mention the horrible thought of going anywhere near Stansted Airport on the Bank Holiday.

So we went for the rail option: £79 returns on Eurostar, and £40 return on the French leg from Paris to Limoges (astonishing value for a 600-mile round trip on SNCF). It worked out about the same as Ryanair on cost but, although although it was longer, the trains are pretty comfy and you get to watch the scenery flash by. And 7 hours actually compares favourably with air by the time you add in getting to the airport and allowing for check-in time.

And the result? Well, the journey there was bliss. We had an early start - checking in at St Pancras at 6.45am - but there were no queues, the new terminal seems to run very smoothly, and we slept all the way to Paris. The Gare du Nord is not my favourite corner of Paris, but we still reached Austerlitz station in less than half an hour on the metro. From there, the Corail Teoz service - TGVs don't operate this route - was a lesson in civilized travel. Bags of leg room, bags of luggage space, reclining seats in Second Class, and perfect conditions for yet more sleep. Arrival at the very impressive Gare de Benedictins (above) was the perfect end to the journey.

The return leg was pretty good as well, except Gare du Nord Eurostar terminal needs some pretty major expansion to cope with Bank Holiday crowds. Still, all in all it made for a very civilized week-end.

Oh, and the wedding went pretty well, too...

A close encounter with a seagull

2009-07-07T16:59:00.006+01:00

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...

2009-06-26T18:56:00.001+01:00

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

2009-06-19T10:56:00.002+01:00

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

2009-04-07T13:05:00.003+01:00

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

2009-04-07T12:43:00.006+01:00

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

2009-03-19T12:31:00.003Z

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

2009-03-11T16:16:00.003Z

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.

London Motorcycle Museum

2009-03-04T10:38:00.004Z

Located in the slightly unpromising wilds of suburban West London, this is a small but fascinating museum for anyone interested in the history of British Motorcycles. The museum is housed in some rather anonymous former farm buildings just off The Broadway in Greenford, which give little hint of what’s inside.

The collection is the main event, and includes over 80 motorcycles dating from 1902 to the 1990s. The core of the display is the amazing collection of Triumphs belonging to museum founder Bill Crosby, with over 50 bikes loaned and donated from other sources.

Although the Triumphs dominate the selection, there are many other familiar names: Rudge-Whitworth, BSA, Brough, Ariel, Matchless, Norton and Royal Enfield, alongside a few foreign bikes. There are vintage, racing, road, police, sprint, custom and military bikes on display, as well as various items of motorcycling ephemera and memorabilia.

One of the most fascinating is a small 50cc Moto Minarelli sprint bike built for the successful record attempt by Des Heckle in 1973. It doesn’t even have a seat, and was built to his personal measurements. Other items of specific interest include a rare 1902 Ormonde, several Triumph prototypes, and - my favourites - an amazingly modern-looking 1930s Coventry Eagle 1000cc Flying 8 and a Rudge TT from 1911. (My grandfather owned a Rudge Multi).

The main building has a (very) small shop and eating area with seating and drinks machines, although there are plans to expand the museum by opening up one of the sheds behind, currently used as a store and workshop. The volunteer staff are friendly and helpful and, as well as the museum, they also put on displays at events elsewhere.

This museum is clearly a labour of love by dedicated enthusiasts, and doesn’t have the glitz of bigger museums, but its collection is both fascinating and absorbing for those interested in British motorcycle heritage.

Practicalities

The site has free car parking, and is a short walk down Oldfield Lane from The Broadway in Greenford. It’s a 15 minutes walk from Greenford underground station (turn right and just keep going, using the subway to cross under the A40), and there are buses both to Greenford and Ealing Broadway stations.

The museum has a short ramp to enter and a long sloping access ramp through the main building, suitable for wheelchairs, and there is a disabled toilet on the site.

A view of the sea

2009-02-28T23:43:00.004Z

Sometimes I take a photograph on the spur of the moment that I just like. This is one of them.

I know it's not technically very competent, but I liked the view of the ship moored out to sea and the couple walking on the edge of the shore.

It was taken from the seafront in Vilanova i la Geltru in Catalonia.

Fisherman's Friends

2009-02-26T17:14:00.005Z

I'm not normally one for plugging a product, but this is one I feel needs comment - if only because it seems harder and harder to find stores that sell them.

By way of explanation, I'm one of those people for whom winters mean catarrh, an itchy throat, and either a blocked or runny nose. In those circumstances, the potent lozenges from Lofthouse's in Fleetwood are a real life saver: in particular, on the cough-incubator that is the London Underground, they really seem to help ward off infection.

Now I realise that, like Marmite, they are something you either love or hate: the intense combination of menthol and eucalyptus is unrelieved by the sugar you find in other cough sweets, and they are famed for being the strongest lozenges available. I don't exactly love the flavour, and admit that drinking a pint of beer afterwards makes for a weird sensation, but they don't half work: a clear nose and soothed throat are almost guaranteed.

And as far as I am concerned, the other brands of lozenges and sweets simply don't cut it - they might be nicer to suck or chew, but they are child's play in comparison (and those sticky, sugary concoctions can't be good for your teeth, either). Lofthouse have to be doing something right: their product has been going now since 1865.

My only gripe is that they seem to be harder and harder to find. I forget how many stores I have been into, to find they don't sell them - or, worse still, don't even know what I'm on about. (Part of the problem here is London's cosmopolitan workforce: asking for a 'Fisherman's Friend' from someone for whom English is a second language doesn't half get you some strange looks sometimes. By way of example, I discovered today that neither Sainsbury's nor Boots the Chemist in Holborn stock them.

Perhaps I ought to write a guide: 'Where to buy Fisherman's Friends in central London?'

Carnaval!

2009-02-24T17:14:00.004Z

One of the best known features of Spain is its passion for the fiesta, a tradition kept alive and well even in the face of modern communications and globalisation. Every town has its annual highlight – celebrating a saint’s day, or a political or historic event.

The highlight of Vilanova’s fiesta calendar is the Carnaval, held over a week in the run up to Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday – otherwise known as Mardi Gras.

Whilst its neighbour, Sitges, is internationally known for its camp parades of carnival kings, queens and drag queens, attracting an international tourist crowd, Vilanova’s is a much more homely (but still impressive) spectacle. Events over the week include a parade of floats, a children’s parade, a battle of the meringues (think: a street fight of all ages with wet meringue instead of custard pies), and a masqued ball. Everyone seems to get into the spirit of things, with whole families adopting a theme for their fancy dress.

The week finishes with a parade and ceremony of the ‘Burial of the Sardine’ on Ash Wednesday, when a large model sardine is buried on the beach. This is a healthy snub to the church authorities of yesteryear, when the sardine ceremony parodied the pre-Lenten ‘burying of the fat’ performed by the church.

But the highlight is the Sunday Celebration of the ‘Guerra de los Caramellos’, literally the ‘battle of the sweets’. For this, seemingly the whole town turns out, to watch the various carnival groups (of which there are dozens), each in their own distinctive costumes and with their own brass band, parade around the town. Every square in the centre is taken over, with the whole town in party mood.

But the most distinctive feature are the sweets, carried in huge shoulder bags and, at various stages, thrown into the air with great gusto. And we are talking lots and lots of sweets here: around 20 tons, to be precise; the pavements and squares become a colourful, not to say crunchy, mosaic of colourful sweet wrappers and boiled sweets. No-one seems to bother collecting any to eat; they just get trodden down, until the soles of your shoes become crackly and sticky.

It's all great fun, and immensely colourful. The pavements and drains are covered with the cellophane-wrapped debris and are sticky for days afterwards – a reminder of what you should have given up for Lent…

Lost property

2009-02-06T11:56:00.004Z

I'm in mourning for a pair of lost gloves. It sounds pathetic, I know, but these were the best fitting, comfiest and nicest gloves I possessed, and like an idiot I left them on a train. (I'd just had a lousy journey thanks to tube disruption, and left them on an overground train while still nursing my grievance).

Of course, I've telephoned the lost property office, but past experience doesn't lead me to have much faith in the system. I lost a cap earlier in the year, and reported that, to no avail.

Now I might hear you saying that I can easily get another pair of gloves. Wrong. It took me ages to find these: they are black leather, but fit very closely, and have a button fastener. I recall them being hard to find when I bought them ten years ago: my main problem is that I have small hands for a man, somewhere between a size seven and seven-and-a-half. Ordinary 'medium' sized gloves end up having an irritating empty bit at the tips of the fingers, and that just won't do. I've visited John Lewis, Peter Jones, House of Fraser, Liberty - you name it - but to no avail.

Next time I'm putting nothing in the luggage rack above or behind the fold-up table in front...

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

2009-02-03T14:42:00.005Z

After the snow, I suspect every other blog will about the weather this week, either carping on about how a few inches brings everything in the UK to a standstill, or how wonderful it is to have a day off.

I'm firmly with the latter. We've had a good six inches here in West London, falling all in one night, and it's the worst single snowfall for as long as I have lived here. So we can't be expected to gear up for it: the cost of all those snowploughs sitting doing nothing for years on end would be something to grumble about in its own right. And one day off every ten years is hardly a disaster (especially when most of us do loads of unpaid overtime). Clearly, places like hospitals have a torrid time, with ambulances struggling through snow-bound side roads, and wards being short-staffed just as there's a surge of broken bones and twisted ankles from people slipping over, but for the most part we catch up pretty quickly.

Actually, not everything did grind to a standstill, despite what the news media would have you believe: I travelled yesterday morning from Barry in South Wales back to Kensington, and the journey was pretty smooth: OK, my train from Cardiff was cancelled, but another one (from Swansea) turned up around the same time, and made it to London Paddington, taking only five minutes longer than usual. There was no District Line south, but by a combination of the Bakerloo and Piccadilly lines I was still home in half an hour. The worst bit was the last few hundreds yards from the Underground station, as the pavements were snowy. But, as you can see from the photo, it did look glorious, and a succession of charmingly eccentric snowmen have been built in the gardens over the last 24 hours.

There were a few surprises in what kept going and what did not: the Heathrow Express was suspended, despite the rest of the Great Western main line working normally, and despite the fact that the Piccadilly Line - with its vulnerable ground-level electric rails - was operating normally through to Heathrow. Apparently, trains cancellations were caused as much by the fact the staff couldn't get to work, as by snow on the line.

Still, things around here seem to be back pretty much to normal, so roll on spring!

The end of an Era...

2009-01-27T16:40:00.004Z

...with the closure of The Coleherne pub in Earl's Court.

The Coleherne used to vie with the Queen's Head in Chelsea as London's oldest gay pub. Gay men started frequenting the venue in the 1950s, and by the 1970s it was well known as a centre of gay life in London. Earl's Court became one of the best-known 'gay ghettoes', formed partly as a result of the post-war changes in housing, which saw the larger houses around Earl's Court broken up into flats. More well-heeled than Paddington, but cheaper than Chelsea, a distinctive community grew up here which found its zenith in the 1970s and 1980s.

At this time a committee had to be set up to try and improve relations between the patrons of the Coleherne and residents in the surrounding area, fed up of the areas in front of their homes being used as a cruising ground for gay men. The pub - a traditional venue, smoky and atmospheric, and popular with the leather-and-denim crowd - was sufficiently well known to feature in Armistead Maupin's book 'Babycakes', but rather less happily it was also one of the stalking grounds of serial killers Dennis Nilsen and Colin Ireland.

Earl's Court attracted a number of other gay venues during the 1980s and early 1990s: Copacabana, the Boltons, Graffiti, Bromptons and the eerily-named Catacombs. But times have changed: greater liberation and toleration means that gay men now live across London's suburbs, the desire to live side by side in a 'gay ghetto' now no longer a necessity, and the centre of exclusively gay bars has moved to Soho. The Coleherne itself began to suffer: an expensive makeover in the 1990s wasn't entirely successful, and robbed it of much of its character, and the loss of real ale made it less attractive to those who wanted a decent pint.

All Earl's Court's gay bars have now closed, including the Philbeach Hotel. The Coleherne was the last, and now it is gone, reopened in its new guise as The Pembroke, a straightforward, if fairly unremarkable gastro-pub. Only the Clone Zone shop (its parent company now in administration) and Balans, the gay-run restaurant chain, survive to indicate that once this was once a unique and colourful part of London...

Cambridge Winter Ales Festival - Review

2009-01-26T15:51:00.003Z

Organised by the Cambridge and District Branch of the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA), this is a well established winter ales festival, with the emphasis is on the heavier, and generally darker (and stronger!) seasonal ales and “winter warmers”. However, with around 120 beers on offer, the festival has plenty of other beer styles too, as well as ciders and foreign beers - enough for even the most discerning palate.

I attended for the first time this year, and had a very enjoyable evening - once I got in, that is. The qualification is important, as one of the main features of the venue (Cambridge's University Social Club on Mill Lane) is that, for a beer festival, it's relatively small. There are two downstairs bars, the very small 'Back Bar' and the slightly larger 'Front Bar', where food is also served, and the main bar area upstairs. Entry is free for CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale) members.

We arrived on the Friday at 7pm and had to queue for nearly an hour (that's real dedication for you) in a biting cold wind, as the venue was already full, and they could only let people in on a one-out, one-in basis. Unless they try for a larger venue next year, it's worth therefore getting there early: a friend of ours who arrived an hour earlier had no trouble queueing.

Once we'd warmed up, though, and purchased our £4 commemorative glasses (this is refundable if you don't want to keep it at the end of the evening), the beer choice was very good. The emphasis - and I suppose about half the ales - are of the heavier winter seasonal variety, including stouts and porters.

Some of these are pretty strong stuff: Bartram's 'Soviet Stout' comes in at 6.9% ABV, Cambridge Moonshine's 'Chocolate Orange Stout' comes in at 7.2%, Harwich Town's 'Sint Niklaas' at 7.8%, and Elveden's 'Harwich Charter Ale' at a whopping 10% ABV. Those trying the foreign beers have plenty of choice in the 8-10% range, with the Belgian Bush de Noël from Brasserie Dubuisson Frères brewery taking the ribbon with its staggering 12% ABV. (And you would be staggering, too, after one too many of those...).

Unsurprisingly, they only provide you with half-pint glasses. That all said, as with most beer festivals, people drink steadily and sensibly and the atmosphere is warm and friendly and very well behaved. There are plenty of beers in the 3.5-5% ABV range if you want something less alcoholic.

Some of the beers have wonderful names: Bartram's 'Mother In Law's Tongue Tied', a rich tawny ale (9% ABV) must rate as one of the best, Elgood's 'Wenceslas Winter Warmer' (7.5% ABV) wins the prize for alliteration, Potbelly's 'Jingle Bellies' (5% ABV) for the most humorous, Son of Sid's 'Strapped Jock' (4% ABV) for the most ribald and Woodforde's 'Headcracker' (7% ABV) for honesty!

Food is served until 9pm, although they carried on after this on our visit. The menu is pretty basic but filling festival fare: most popular, and best value, were the hearty and very fresh chips at £1.50, but there were also veggie chilli, game stew, fish and chips, various filled rolls and soup on offer.

Apart from the queue, the other main downers are that it is very crowded, there's no cloakroom to leave coats etc, there's no level access and relatively little seating for the numbers present. These are all limitations of the venue, but worth knowing about before you go if they're important for you.

Tourist shopping

2009-01-25T23:06:00.005Z

I've never been one to go on holiday with the express view of shopping. In fact, shopping strikes me as the last thing I'd want to do when I'm abroad, when the prospect of visiting churches or museums, beaches or hill-walking country, or just sitting in a cafe watching the world go by, are the alternatives.

OK, so we've picked up the odd bit of pottery at markets when looking for the local 'colour' - difficult to avoid in North Africa, for example - and when in the USA I did buy a pair of cowboy boots - the sort of thing it's hard to get here, and which are particular to the place we visited. But the thought of going shopping for clothes or other items you can just as easily buy at home I find rather bewildering.

Clearly, however, I'm in a minority, if Oxford Street on Saturday was anything to go by. There seemed to be crowds of Dollar- and Euro-zone tourists on the tubes, buses and on the pavements, all shopping frantically while the pound is in such a miserably sorry state. Primark seemed to be a particularly popular destination judging by the crowds streaming in and out, as the normally very competitive clothes store had a sale on (as if it's possible to discount a £7 pair of jeans? Well, to £4, I suppose. At that rate the contents will soon be cheaper than the carrier bag you carry them out in).

I suspect this could become an interesting phenomenon this year: with no prospect of the pound recovering for some months, it may well be that London's retail sector is buoyed by the influx of visitors spending their hard earned cash here instead, while the locals stay at home. Why, it might even be worth sitting in a cafe in the West End, literally watching the rest of the world go by...

Tony Hart

2009-01-19T11:41:00.003Z

And so, another icon of my childhood has passed away.

Tony Hart died over the weekend, at the age of 83. A pioneer of children's broadcasting, how you remember him will depend on your age and the television programmes you watched: for me, this will always be Vision On, where his quick-draw skills and often huge, bright and imaginative paintings inspired a whole generation to enjoy making art.

After Vision On, he starred in his own show, Take Hart. With his delightfully animated side-kick, Morph, this was aimed more directly at encouraging young people in creating art of their own. Less well known was the fact that he designed the original Blue Peter badge - another icon. His was a warm, gentle and yet highly creative form of television which, alongside that of Oliver Postgate (creator of the Clangers and Bagpuss), helped to define 1970s childrens' television.

Although Hart won two Baftas and a lifetime achievement award, as with Postgate, his work provides the most fitting memorial and tribute to his abilities.

More Winter Ales and drinking tales

2009-01-17T10:49:00.009Z

One of the things to look forward to on January's dull winter days (apart from Spring, that is), is the extraordinary wealth of beer festivals early in the year. Many of these specifically celebrate Winter Ales which, to the uninitiated, are the heavier, richer and usually sweeter brews which were traditionally brewed to help fend off the cold. These include specific brews produced only in Winter, as well as styles such as Porters which are naturally heavier. As well as providing extra calories, they are also packed with vitamins and minerals to help keep body and soul together.

I've already mentioned the Winter Ale Festival in Manchester which starts next Wednesday, but for those in London, the Cambridge Winter Ales Festival - which has actually been running longer - takes place next week too, and may be more accessible.

Once you've got back into the swing of beer festivals, then they come thick and fast in 2009, as the list of a 'A Year of Beer Festivals' on the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) website shows. Two close to my neck of the woods include the Battersea Beer Festival beginning on the 11th February, the Sussex Beer Festival at Hove in Sussex, on 12 March and a week later the 25th London Drinker Beer Festival at the Camden Centre in Bidborough Street, opposite St Pancras station.

But there are plenty of others to choose from around the country if any of these is not convenient. In addition to the large festivals organised by local CAMRA groups, there are also any number of smaller, pub-based festivals, with anything from 20 to 120 beers over a weekend.

So, as if you need an excuse, there'll be one close to you!

Choirs and weddings

2009-01-16T18:19:00.009Z

We met some friends of ours the other night and, among other things, they mentioned that a friend was getting married in a well-known church in the city of London. Built by Sir Christopher Wren, the church has a grand and beautifully restored interior and is a fine setting for a wedding.

One of the parts of the service they had planned included a performance by a choir in which one of the family sings: a nice touch you'd have thought. However, apparently this is not allowed: the church has its own choir, and if anyone is going to sing (and get paid for it), it has to be them.

Now, I can see that, generally speaking, the church's own choir would be the normal choice, and even have first refusal. But in this case there's a special reason for making an exception, and it seems a little mean to me to operate what is effectively a closed shop on someone's special day. Not entirely in the Christian spirit, methinks...

The 1911 census is online

2009-01-13T15:07:00.004Z

Today is the day that many amateur genealogists have been waiting for with bated breath: the release of the the 1911 census data for England (those for Wales, as well as a few English counties, will follow later).

The 1911 census is interesting for all sorts of reasons. For starters, it was the first Census where individual household returns were preserved: previously, the records were destroyed once the transcripts had been completed. This means that you can see the returns in your ancestor's own handwriting - complete with mistakes and alterations, together with any comments the enumerator may have added later.

It also asked a number of questions about the life of the household: questions included asking how long the householders had been married, and how many children had been born to that union - including those that had died. It was also notable for a boycott by many suffragettes, angered that they were still being denied the vote, with the slogan "No Vote, No census".

Finally, it was compiled before the 1920 Act which prevented the census details from being released for 100 years, and the Government has bowed to pressure to release it earlier than the customary period. The early release, coupled with longer life expectancy, means that there are several thousand people mentioned on the Census who are still alive today - and for many, it will provide an insight into the lives of their parents and grandparents.

However, those looking for details the 1911 Census in Scotland will be disappointed, as the Data Protection laws there mean that the 100 year rule will apply, so those with Scottish ancestors will have to wait until 2011. There are also some areas where the records have been lost, so there will still be some frustrated searchers even in England.

The information is being hosted by the site findmypast.com, which means that the public will have to pay for the details, either for a transcript or (more) for a copy of the original. Hopes are high that the site will not repeat the problems of the launch of the 1901 census, which crashed its site after a matter of hours, due to the huge volume of people searching.

Happy hunting!

Freezing on the South Coast

2009-01-12T10:30:00.006Z

Brrr. You come down from London to Brighton and expect it to be warmer than London. Normally it is: the South Downs shelter it from the worst of the weather from the North and especially the North East winds, and the coastal climate generally makes for milder days and nights too.

But not on Friday. The band of warm air descending, ironically, from the North, that ended the freeze elsewhere in the country had been held up somewhere in the Weald, so by the time my train reached Hayward's Heath, there were ominous signs of frost still hanging around in the late afternoon. Getting out at Brighton, it was distinctly frosty, and a quick check on the Met Office website revealed that it wasn't my imagination: the temperature - measured just down the coast in Shoreham - hadn't risen above freezing all day, and on Friday night fell to a really chilly -7.3C.

Interestingly, no-one seemed to have told a busy little squirrel any of that, who was up and early on Saturday doing whatever squirrels do. I thought they were supposed to hibernate, but apparently this is a common misunderstanding: both grey and red squirrels remain active throughout the winter, especially first thing in the morning when they have finished digesting their last meal and go looking for the next.

This one was certainly active on our garage roof, though quite what sort of food it thought it might have found there is anyone's guess. Still, it made for a more interesting and uplifting start to the day than listening to the latest grim news on the Credit crunch and from Gaza, both of which seem incapable of resolution at the moment.

Motorcycles in bus lanes

2009-01-07T15:27:00.005Z

Great news - London Transport has decided to allow motorcycles in bus lanes for a trial period.

From 5 January 2009, an 18-month trial will allow motorcycles, mopeds, scooters and tricycles - but not those with sidecars - to travel in most red route bus lanes.

The only quibble that I can see is that it excludes borough bus lanes - ie those lanes introduced by individual boroughs. I can see this causing a certain amount of confusion - how are you to know whether you are in a participating bus lane or not? The website has detailed maps showing which lanes are included, but this is hardly helpful out on the road.

Still, as a motorcyclist, I think it's a step forward. As it's a trial, I hope bikers behave responsibly in using this new facility. And let's hope it reduces the number of casualties from accidents.

Pasta and plaster

2009-01-07T13:51:00.004Z

My other half currently has a minor skin complaint that requires a fresh dressing every day, after showering.

The conversation went something like this:

"Could you put the pasta on?"

"But won't it get wet if I do it before you go in the shower?"

"What are you on about? Of course I won't take it into the shower"

"But you will if I put it on beforehand"

"No, I won't. Why would I take the pasta into the shower?"

Listen out for the penny dropping:

"Did you say pasta or plaster?"

You probably had to be there...

Castell de Castellet

2009-01-07T13:41:00.008Z

Sometimes you go to a place that's simply nice.

It's not got the most imaginative name: the Castell at Castellet is rather like saying Castleton Castle in English. But it's a nice spot, with great views, all the same. Inevitably, the houses are all roaringly expensive and it has a stunningly posh restaurant, but wandering the few streets is free.

Worried about Wii

2009-01-02T14:56:00.005Z

Among the plethora of adverts on TV this Christmas have been ones for Wii. Apart from its odd pronunciation (who paid the marketing gurus to come up with something otherwise used to describe urine?), for those not in the know it’s a computer concept which essentially turns your TV into a giant game screen, and has hand-held controls which take the place of bats, racquets, guns and so on, in the virtual world it sets before you.

The adverts show people – usually in front of a huge flat screen – playing tennis, having boxing matches and shooting aliens. Alongside the fairly obvious games is a social networking programme, which creates on-screen a garish, child-like virtual world populated by playful, doll-like characters, which the participants activate and cntrol like ‘real’ characters. These meet up, drink coffee, sit by the pool, even have parties.

My point in mentioning all of this – as if you hadn’t guessed – is to question whether it is a good thing. What Wii seems to deliver is a world where playing real games and engaging in real social interaction is replaced by the virtual equivalent - carried out from the comfort of your sofa.

The people depicted in the adverts are – of course - healthy, happy, and, above all, slim and attractive. Quite how they stay in tip-top, well balanced condition from the couch-potato comfort of their sofas is not revealed. I can see the benefits of this technology for people who genuinely find difficulty in doing such things – for example, because they have a disability which makes engaging in real sport prohibitively difficult. But for most, it strikes me as yet another force towards taking less exercise and substituting for developing real social skills.

More bizarrely, I do not understand the attraction of such virtual socialising. What is the point of a virtual party? Proponents might argue that it enables you to meet ‘friends’ from across the world in a way which would otherwise be impossible in real life. But these cannot be real relationships in any meaningful sense of the word. It seems to pander instead to a fear of forming deeper, more tangible but inevitably more complex relationships.

In the end, the real attraction of such technology – like most technology – is that it is convenient and easy. Virtual boxing doesn’t involve a trip to the gym, the need to take a shower, and is considerably less likely to result in a broken nose or cauliflower ear. On-line ‘friends’ are made with considerably less effort - and concomitantly less commitment- than the real thing.

But it could also be the first step towards a society like that depicted in Pixar’s charming cartoon Wall-E – where humans are reduced to immobile blobs floating on hover-beds, talking only into their screens, seduced every few minutes by the latest marketing fads. It’s enough to make this screen-bound writer go out jogging. In fact, I think I will.

'See you' next week...

Christmas Decoration Etiquette

2009-01-02T14:32:00.002Z

What is the correct etiquette for putting up and taking down Christmas decorations?

I ask this because every year, Brighton City Council erects a small compound on Montpelier Crescent for discarded Christmas trees. These it processes into compost and mulch for its municipal gardens, an admirable example of recycling on our behalf (not quite as admirable as not buying the trees in the first place, perhaps, but we’ll leave that debate for another day).

What interests me is that the compound is erected on Christmas Eve, ready for the first trees on Boxing Day. And, sure enough, on Boxing Day afternoon the first trees appeared. Now, I was brought up on the notion that there were twelve days of Christmas, and that decorations should not be taken down until Twelfth Night (the night of 5th January). Other traditions hold that they should not be taken down until after Twelfth Night (ie on the 6th January) and others that they must not stay up beyond 6th January.

What all these have in common is the ancient notion that Christmas begins on Christmas Day and finishes twelve days later. I realise that few people actually put up their decorations as late as Christmas Eve, although this year I did (more because I didn’t get around to it earlier than adherence to Advent, if I’m honest).

Some churches also abide by this, erecting only a crib scene (minus the baby Jesus, of course) during Advent – a time, like Lent, that is supposed to be a period of fasting, reflection and repentance. But the pressures to begin early are hard to resist.

The modern preparations for Christmas begin the process weeks, if not months, in advance. Advent has disappeared as a season outside the church (even Advent Calendars depict presents, chocolates and other Christmassy items), and at least one national newspaper laments the fact that Christmas cards are on sale in one shop or another, some time around August.

But that doesn’t explain the hurry to get the whole thing over and done with, with rather indecent haste. Why ditch the tree the day after? It’s still a holiday; there’s still a Christmassy feel around (plenty on the telly, certainly); and there’s another holiday just 7 days later. It’s as if they’ve got fed up with the thing and can’t wait to return to normal, and hoover up all the dropped pine needles. Perhaps we need a campaign to reinstate the twelve days of Christmas?

A Catalan New Year

2009-01-02T14:30:00.000Z

So here we are, having swopped the dry and freezing New Year in the UK for a milder but damper one in Barcelona.

Coming to Catalonia, like most parts of Spain, always requires a bit more of an adjustment than most other European destinations, particularly when it comes to your body clock. The one hour time difference is more than compounded by the siesta and the habit of eating and drinking late - very, very late. Most establishments don’t open before 9pm, and remain eerily quiet until 10.30pm. But on New Year’s Eve, the bars stay resolutely closed until 1am, to allow the staff to see in the New Year at home before continuing their celebrations in a more public space.

The Spanish New Year seem to have two main aspects. The first of these is eating grapes: twelve grapes, to be exact. These are quaffed, one at a time, to the chimes of the clock in the Puerta del Sol in Madrid, broadcast on every TV and radio channel. It’s quite a challenge: the chimes come quite quickly, and Spanish grapes have pips so, unless you have already de-seeded them, or bought the expensive little tins of pre-prepared grapes, you’re going to have to spit pretty quickly too. Inevitably, people end up giggling with mouths dribbling full of grapes they can’t quite stuff in fast enough.

The second element is Spanish television. In recent years, this has improved, in ways which any Brit over 40 can understand: the cheesy celebrities of yesteryear (think Val Doonican, only Spanish, and worse), have largely bitten the dust - some of them literally so, I suspect. Instead, there’s a more mixed entertainment of music, comedy and reviews of the past year. As you wend your way to a bar, you can hear a medley of different channels wafting from each balcony.

Feliz Año Neuvo!

Now begin the Boxing Day Sales

2008-12-26T14:17:00.005Z

So, Christmas is over, and now begin the Boxing Day sales.

But before we begin to contemplate the best sales to look out for, let me ask a question: when did the January sales become the Boxing Day sales? Both BBC and ITV news talked about 'the traditional Boxing Day sales'. Traditional? Since when? For most of my life the sales began after the January New Year holiday, and it is only in the last decade that it has crept forward slowly as people have had longer holidays that have joined up Christmas and New Year. I can remember the slightly sarcastic comments made by people about the building trade having two weeks off at Christmas, whereas for many it seems to have become the norm.

The norm, that is, unless you work in retail. Here, the trend has been reversed: longer hours and shorter holidays, to satisfy the public craving for shopping as a leisure activity. The final bastion of Sunday opening was breached in 1994, although Christmas Day and Easter Sunday Day remain excluded from the legislation. Indeed, yesterday, on the way home from church, the centre of Brighton was eerily quiet, with just a few people out and taking in the Christmas Day air.

Anyway, despite of - or perhaps because of - the current credit crunch, the retail sector has gone overboard with its 'traditional Boxing Day' sales, with the news reporting huge, excited but frustrated queues at Selfridges in Oxford Street in particular, and busy mornings at Manchester's Trafford Centre and the Bluewater shopping centre in Kent.

As for me, well, I'm joining in a very different, but equally modern, post-Christmas rite: the escape to warmer climes, and the equally excitable but frustrating queues at Gatwick. Happy holidays.

How to warm yourself up in Winter

2008-12-23T16:05:00.006Z

Well, the obvious answer is to sit by the fire, but a delicious and more convivial alternative is to find a pub that does a good selection of winter ales (preferably with a real fire, as well).

For the uninitiated, Winter Ales are slightly heavier ales, designed to warm the cockles of your heart. They are often brewed with additional ingredients such as raisins, ginger and cloves to give them a stronger, more seasonal taste: some even resemble Christmas Pudding. Another favourite method is to use dark, roasted malts to give rich, chocolatey flavours.

If a seasonal ale isn't your thing, you could always choose styles such as Porters and Stouts, which are naturally richer and heavier in flavour, and which are often not brewed during the summer months.

We recently went to the Charles Dickens pub in Southwark, and they had an excellent selection of winter ales: almost like a mini beer festival (see photo). Winter ales styles included Harvey’s Christmas Ale (8.1% ABV!), Okell’s St Nick (4.5%), and Rudolph’s Ruin (4.6%). As ever, these seasonal styles have great names.

Alternatively, head for the National Winter Ales Festival in Manchester, from 21st until 24th January 2009, at the New Century Hall. With a selection of 200 beers, real ales in a bottle, as well as ciders and perrys, there's bound to be something there to lift the gloom of cold January nights!

Where have all the nut roasts gone?

2008-12-23T10:11:00.003Z

With Christmas fast approaching, I spent part of my week-end in Brighton looking for Nut Roast mix for the veggies on Christmas Day. Now, I know it's cheating slightly to buy a ready-made mix, but with all the other things we have to do on Christmas Day, it does make for an easier life, and also the brand I normally buy is extremely reliable (having eaten more stodgy or gritty nut roasts than I care to admit).

Now, with Brighton being one of the UK's centres of alternative lifestyles (it has the highest number of Green Party Councillors in the UK), you'd have thought buying a nut roast would be a cinch, wouldn't you? Especially before Christmas, when it's a guaranteed winner.

Alas, no. It seems to the laws of supply and demand have gone completely awry. We went first to Holland & Barrett on London Road, but were told that no longer stock it, despite having been asked eight times that day for it. (Doh! Isn't that telling you something, then? Or is it a case of Stalinist centralised control deeming that only larger branches shall stock nut roast mix?)

Next stop was Infinity Foods, one of the country's largest health food shops and a Brighton stalwart of a business, and the UK's oldest food co-operative. Alas, a similar problem: no nut roast mix, they'd run out, supplies not due in until next week, etc.

So, along I went to Holland & Barrett's main branch in the centre of town, in North Road. Actually, for a main branch it doesn't look much bigger than the one in London Road, but it does stock nut roast mix. Alas, however, they've run out. So, in vain I trekked down to Waitrose, and then across the road to the large Taj international health food supermarket. But no. Nothing. Zilch.

Oh well, looks like my old recipe, then...

A pause for thought from Rowan Williams

2008-12-19T13:42:00.007Z

I'm a regular listener to BBC Radio 4's 'Today' programme, which has been part of my morning ritual for over a decade. A lot of the time it's just straightforward news, and at other times the political argy-bargy does get a bit tedious, but occasionally something really does cause me to listen, to pause for thought.

Yesterday, was one such occasion: Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, was speaking to John Humphries about the past year as part of his Christmas message. It was a calm and measured piece, and in marked contrast to some of the rather adversarial interviews in which Humphries is involved.

The most widely reported of the Archbishop's comments were those he made about the present economic crisis and culture of greed, which he described as "a sort of reality check which is always good for us, a reminder that what some people have been calling 'fairy gold' is just that".

Many papers reported with glee his questioning of the Government's current policy of encouraging people to spend again as "a little bit like the addict returning to the drug".

But most of the discourse was actually about re-orientating society, and changing our values:

"I'd like to think that in this sort of crisis, people would be reflecting more on how we develop a volunteer culture, where people are willing to put their services at the service of the needs of others so that there can be a more active and vital civil society.

"I think there's a good chance of that and I'd like to hear more from the Government about how a volunteer society can be encouraged."

Other subjects included knotty questions about Iraq, Zimbabwe and disestablishment. After the unfortunate episode earlier in the year when his comments - clever, but naively placed - on the place of Sharia Law were widely reported out of context, Williams appeared to handle himself much more assuredly than in many previous interviews. I hope that this marks the beginning of a trend: he is too important - as well as thoughtful and wise - not to be listened to.

If you haven't heard the interview, it can be found on the BBC website.

A quieter Hammersmith

2008-12-16T14:02:00.005Z

I recently went to Hammersmith to stock up on a few things, and was shocked to see how quiet it was, especially as the Christmas shopping rush is supposed to be upon us.

Now, I know it's not the most exciting or upmarket shopping centre in West London, but it does have a decent branch of M&S, a large branch of W H Smiths, several discount sports retailers and quite a few independent shops.

A few retailers I spoke to said it was largely down to the effect of the Westfield shopping centre, up the road in Shepherd's Bush. Although the range of shops there is different, there's a lot of variety, and there is still a novelty effect as the centre is so new. Coupled with the fact that Oxford Street has seen a lot of heavy discounting as well, the overall effect for smaller centres such as Hammersmith was painful, exacerbating the effects of the credit crunch and economic downturn more generally. The King's Mall had at least one large empty shop unit; I hope this is not a portent of things to come.

Of course, Westfield is in the same borough as Hammersmith, and it must have been obvious that, being so close, the new development would compete pretty directly with Hammersmith town centre. So I hope the folks at Hammersmith & Fulham Borough Council did their sums before agreeing to the Westfield proposal...

More on weather

2008-12-14T22:27:00.010Z

Serves me right.

I write a blog about the average nature of November's weather, and then we have a day like yesterday.

I suppose that, compared with the typhoons and hurricanes that happen elsewhere, we get off incredibly lightly (not that I would have provided a sympathetic ear to such comments, as we struggled through rain and strong winds when house-hunting in Brighton). But it poured and poured, and we both got thoroughly soaked, the wind more than a match for our feeble umbrellas.

Is there anything more stressful than cold, wind-driven rain?

An almost average November

2008-12-12T10:33:00.007Z

Despite the fact we have had some early frosts and some parts have had November snow, the last month's weather turns out to have been pretty average - except for slightly higher temperatures.

This is all according to the Met Office's website, which records monthly weather statistics against the average for years between 1961 and 1990. The statistics are impressive: overall, in November the UK had 92% of the average rainfall; 98% of average sun; and only the temperatures showed much variation, provisionally being the coldest November for maximum temperatures since 1998, but with minimum temperatures being about 1.0 °C higher than average - the month as a whole was 0.6 °C above the 1961-1990 mean. (Sorry if that takes several goes at reading it.)

Of course, as ever, such averages hide a lot of regional differences: Scotland had near-average figures, whereas England was a little warmer. And rainfall patterns were more variable: Wales had only 86% of its normal rain. But that's pretty good given the vagaries of our climate - even before allowing for any spice that may be added by Climate Change.

In all, it's a great website for those who (like me) like facts and information. As well as monthly, seasonal and annual averages, they show the data from 1914, so you can see how the climate has changed over that time. It's particularly reassuring to confirm that we really have had a very wet year: against the 1971-2000 average, Spring rainfall was up by 10%, and summer rainfall up a whopping 44%. Autumn (Sept-Nov) has continued the trend, up 9%, although it's been spot on the average for temperatures, and the coldest since 1993.

One trend that is definitely noticeable, though - even without sophisticated data analysis - is the slow and gradual rise in mean temperatures: OK they bounce up and down a bit, but almost always at or above the average over the longer period. From 1914 until the 1990s, the annual average temperatures tended to be between 7 °C and 9 °C, whereas it's now been above 9 °C every year since 1997, with 2006 the warmest year on record, at 9.74 °C.

If that seems a little cool, don't forget it includes temperatures at night, when most of us are tucked up in bed. The average this November was 6.2 °C - not bad when you consider that the coldest November recorded was 1919, when the average was a wintry 2.3 °C - more like February, and one of the factors which may have worsened the effects of that great influenza epidemic which swept Europe after the First World War.

Clearly, if you've a mind for statistics, this is one website that can provide hours of fun. If not, then just enjoy our currently dry and sunny December!

No more Clangers

2008-12-10T17:05:00.008Z

I seem to be writing a lot about obituaries, but I saw one yesterday that I could not let pass: the death of Oliver Postgate, aged 83, the creator of children's BBC TV favourites Bagpuss, The Clangers, Noggin the Nog, Pogle's Wood and Ivor the Engine.

Bagpuss - the tales of a rather portly, pink, cuddly cat - recently won a TV poll for the best children''s character of all time. I don't recall that particularly, but I was a great fan of Noggin the Nog (and his arch-nemesis, Nogbad the Bad), Pogle's Wood and particularly The Clangers. One of my student turns (after a suitable quantity of liquid lubrication) was to do an impression of the Soup Dragon - despite her name, a friendly character who provided the nourishment needed by the Clangers on their quaint, little round planet.

The creations were brilliant for their simple inventiveness, as well as having a very British, comforting warmth to the story lines and eccentric but loveable characters. The Smallfilms company he set up with his business partner, artist and puppeteer Peter Firmin, made many of the productions in a studio converted from a disused cowshed in Kent, often using home-made equipment.

According to the BBC, Postgate stopped making films in 1987 when he said the children's TV commissioners no longer wanted what he had to offer. More fool them. An entire generation of British children - now middle-aged adults - begs to differ!

A new future for Warwick Road

2008-12-04T15:14:00.005Z

One of my neighbours recently alerted me to the existence of an innocuous-sounding document entitled the "Warwick Road Planning Brief". Adopted by the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea earlier this year, this is essentially a master plan for the redevelopment of what, in central London terms, is a huge site along the Warwick Road, between the Tesco on Cromwell Road and Kensington High Street, close to Kensington Olympia station.

It's quite interesting to read how the planners see the possible future of the site: although it is actually four separate parcels of land, the brief tries to foresee what it might look like if it was developed to a unified plan to create a sort of 'urban village' of over 600 homes.

The good news is that it is intended to be residential, with a few local shops, although quite what will happen now with the credit crunch in full swing is anybody's guess. One building which may or may not survive - and the plan says it would welcome its demolition and replacement - is the quirky Homebase store, opposite the Warwick Arms pub.

Of course, the southern end closest to Tesco has already been redeveloped; first came the new Tesco; then the huge bulk of the appropriately-named Warren House, adjacent to Homebase; and now the former petrol station between the two has been demolished, with a new building rising rapidly in its place. But from Warren House northwards, the west side of the road looks rather forlorn - though the faux-Eqyptian decoration on Homebase, which the brief rather generously describes as 'Post-modern', does provide a little light relief.

The brief envisages the demolition of all the buildings from Homebase northwards, from the huge Charles House on Kensington High Street to the derelict-looking old telephone exchange, and also Homebase itself. The only part I would be sad to see go is the Radnor Arms. Closed over two years ago, it is in a very forlorn condition now, but the adjacent lane is still cobbled, and it provides a small patch of historic interest along what otherwise feels a bit like an urban motorway.

Still, as I said, the current credit crunch and accompanying recession looks rather set to slow down the pace of new developments, which may be no bad thing: time for the brief to gain a wider audience, and for the locals to think about what they'd like to see along this site.

An Icon of Architecture

2008-12-02T11:35:00.009Z

Saturday was a sad day for world architecture with the death of the Danish architect, Jørn Utzon, designer of the Sydney Opera House. The great sails were dimmed on Sunday as a tribute and mark of respect.

The Opera House remains one of the most iconic examples of architecture, and is perhaps the most internationally recognisable building of the 20th Century. At a time when modern architecture has acquired a very mixed reputation in the eyes of the public, from the problems of post-war system building to the 'carbuncle' accusations of the Prince of Wales, here is a building which has not just been admired, but taken to heart by many.

And yet its construction (which lasted nearly 15 years) was equally legendary for its technical problems, cost overruns and off-site rows, which ultimately led to Utzon's resignation. It's still not entirely clear who was to blame, although - with hindsight - it's probably fair to say that no-one realised at the time quite what a ground-breaking and complex design it was. But there can be no doubt that it graces its waterside location perfectly and, alongside the adjacent Harbour bridge, has become the very image of modern Sydney - as well as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Utzon never visited the finished structure, but was said not have held a grudge over the episode: perhaps the greatest tribute to his talent is that all three of his children have since become architects.

Boden at Olympia

2008-11-28T19:41:00.004Z

Now this is a new one on me: I recently had a flyer through the door for a clothing sale - at Olympia.

Boden, the ethical clothing retailer which specialises in rugged outdoor and casual wear, is holding a two-day clearance sale on 6-7th December at Olympia. Founded in 1991, the company has only two shops, and is better known for retailing through its catalogues, although these days sells quite a lot through the internet as well.

A quick look at their website shows their stuff is probably not up my street, (it's a bit pricey and formal, in a smart-casual sort of way - the sort of stuff my Mum wished I would wear) but I was fascinated to read their description of themselves on their website:

After five burglaries, one office dog, nine Christmas quizzes, twelve nights spent in the warehouse, one consignment of refugees arriving with a clothes delivery, four office moves, quite a few sense of humour failures, a few sackings (but thankfully not many), 2 venture capitalists, 6 awards, about twenty fantastically annoying customers (mostly related to me), a couple of crooks, 520 Kings Pizza ("Continental" medium thin crust with extra anchovies for me), a great team spirit, one incredibly tolerant wife, bucket loads of sweat and even more laughs, we're still here!

I'm not quite sure what to make of this; it's admirably self-deprecating, but also slightly scary. Who normally admits to sackings, bucket loads of sweat and sense of humour failures? On the other hand, you also feel sorry for them if they've been caught out by crooks, burglaries and refugees stowing away in their deliveries. Still, it's definitely different.

Anyway, if Boden is on your radar, now may be the time to buy.

The Boden clearance sale is on at Olympia over 6-7th December, and entrance is free.

The Three Lions Pub Crawl

2008-11-27T10:56:00.010Z

Here's a great pub crawl to consider if you are in the Piccadilly area. The three pubs are all interesting both historically and architecturally, and have a great choice of real ales to boot. What more can you ask?

First off, start at the Red Lion in Crown Passage. Reputed by some to be one of the London's oldest pubs (300 odd years), it still has a slightly Dickensian feel, thanks to the narrow, atmospheric lane on which it is situated. Inside, it feels rather like a country pub, except for the rather more cosmopolitan range of customers. It's often busy with punters ranging from suited and booted types to local builders and foreign-accented tourists. There's another room upstairs if the bar is packed. Beers include Adnams Bitter and St Austell Tribute, so real-ale fans are well catered for, and they serve food, too.

Walking along Crown Passage, it's only a minute or two to the Golden Lion, our second venue. Built in 1897 on the site of a pub with the same name opened in 1762, this pub has a single narrow, downstairs bar, and a covered passage at the side. There's also a dining room upstairs, open at lunchtimes. The decor has a theatrical theme, incorporated into some stunning stained glass and wood panelling. The real ales include London Pride and guest ales, such as Hog’s Back Summer Ale and Sharp’s Doom Bar.

Finally, it's a five minute walk across St James's Square to another Red Lion, and here we really have left the best until last. Tucked away under the shadow of St James's Church, this small pub has what can only be described as a spectacular high Victorian interior (above). It is on both the London and the National Inventories of Pub Interiors of Outstanding Historic Interest. A quick look around, and you can see why: the walls are covered in mirrors decorated with elaborate etched and cut glass, and above is an elaborately embossed ceiling above a decorative frieze. Even the spiral staircase to the lavatories has impressive ironwork, and doors with stained glass.

It's well worth making a special visit, but be warned: it is packed at lunchtimes and with the after work crowd, so aim to get there in the afternoon or later evening to appreciate it at its best. Oh, and they serve real ales too: on my last visit, Fuller’s London Pride, Jennings Cumberland Ale and Deuchars IPA.

Seriously, what more could one ask for?

The Westfield Experience

2008-11-25T11:54:00.007Z

A wonderful addition to West London shopping, or a temple to the opiate of mass consumerism? A fillip for Shepherd's Bush, or barometer of our divided society? Well, Europe's largest urban shopping mall, Westfield, has now been open for a month, so now is perhaps a good time to reflect a little.

Firstly, my own experience. It's very large, although being on two levels means it doesn't feel quite as huge as I'd expected. It's very shiny: not just new, but with shiny, high quality finishes, and a small army of cleaners to keep it that way. And it's very, very busy. I know it's in the run-up to Christmas, and lots of people are visiting because they're curious, but I was still surprised just how many people were there on a weekday afternoon. And it still feels a little out of place in Shepherd's Bush: the contrast between it and the scruffy Green is rather stark, made rather worse by the chaotic road works under way currently. (You'd have thought they would have realised that, wouldn't you? Maybe not.)

It's also become something of a phenomenon on the review site Qype, too: it's been reviewed 48 times since opening, which feels like a record for the fastest number of reviews in a month. Opinions of Qypers vary hugely: all commenting on its size and range of shops; lots of keen shoppers marvelling at the choice, and the high-end choices in particular; other, more cynical types, lamenting it as a symbol of rampant, soulless consumerism; and more pragmatic types, pleased at the level access and public transport, but critical of the cost of car parking, of traffic queues, and the fact that the route from the Shepherd's Bush railway stations involves getting wet if it's raining.

But there's absolutely no doubt that it has had an effect on the West End and Kensington High Street, both of which have reported a 25% decrease in footfall since its opening. This may have something to do with the novelty effect, but since it covers a similar range of shops, is all under cover and has good public transport and parking, I can foresee that many from West London will simply go there instead. Mind you, for Oxford Street this may be no bad thing - it's appallingly crowded at Christmas and during sales; they even have traffic wardens to direct the herds of people around Oxford Circus, which strikes me as barmy.

More interesting is whether those normally more used to Sloane Street and Bond Street will be prepared to do their designer shopping at "The Village", with its more mixed crowd than they might be used to. And Kensington High Street is hoping that people will be drawn there, to compensate for those they have lost. I'm a bit more sceptical about that: there's not much in Kensington that Westfield can't offer.

But for the moment, Westfield is certainly making an impact, and has excited the interest of huge numbers of people. Only time will tell what the long term effect on the rest of West London will be. In the meantime, we have a very shiny, very large and permanent new resident on our doorstep.

Where's the honey, Mummy?

2008-11-24T19:24:00.005Z

Odd that I never liked honey as a child (I don't really have that sort of sticky, sweet tooth), but now I love the stuff.

At the moment I'm consuming absurd quantities of the golden nectar to keep my first winter cold at bay: I'm a great believer in honey and lemon to sooth sore throats and tickly coughs. I'm not alone in this: it's been used for years in folk medicine and by herbalists, and there is some scientific evidence to back this up: it is supposed to be as effective as some over-the-counter medicines. Recipes include mixing it with turmeric or ginger, but I always take it in hot water, a few teaspoons of honey with a tablespoon of lemon in a half-pint mug, just before bed.

I am particularly fond of Traidcraft's Wild Blossom honey, which has a lovely, floral fragrance underlying the sweetness, and a more delicate flavour. Not only is this part of my medicine cabinet, but I have inherited from my mother a peculiar liking for honey sandwiches (and one that had nothing to do with the Winnie-the-Pooh stories). Wonderful comfort food.

Now, who said I haven't got a sweet tooth?

Note: apparently, you shouldn't give honey to children under 2 years old: they may find it hard to digest, and it can harbour bacteria.

John Sergeant leaves 'Strictly'...

2008-11-20T12:54:00.007Z

It had to happen. John Sergeant has decided to quit Strictly Come Dancing.

After weeks of slightly snooty abuse from the judges, not to say his terrible dancing, he has decided to leave now so as not to risk winning - which, in his words - 'would have been "a joke too far"'.

The whole episode has become something of a cause célèbre: a reasonably well-known political journalist and reporter has achieved greater celebrity in ten weeks of Strictly than his whole previous career. It has been discussed on Newsnight. The Prime Minister has commented. And the public have taken to him to heart, voting him back week after week: whether to subvert the genre of reality television, to snub the self-importance of the judges, or simply to support the underdog in that the time-honoured tradition - who knows? But they have voted in their millions.

There's an irony here, however: the whole experience has made for fascinating television - it has even encouraged me to watch Strictly Come Dancing for the first time. And, whilst I could see the judges' point that it was unfair to the other contestants' hard work and ability, at the end of the day this is entertainment, and Sergeant's participation has made for great entertainment. It simply won't be the same after he has gone, and I for one shall not bother to tune in again.

After his final performance this week-end, I wonder what will happen to the show's ratings?

Cough, splutter

2008-11-17T16:23:00.004Z

Yuck. Here comes my first cold of the winter. I woke up on Saturday on a week-end away in Brighton, feeling absolutely fine. But by 10.30 had a streaming cold and a sore, sore throat. So, off we went to those nice people at Watts & Co for some medication, leaving some time later with a small hamper full of pharmaceutical goodies.

Apart from feeling hopelessly sorry for myself (ah, a case of man 'flu, I hear you say...), I was pondering where I'd picked it up. I've been out for meals twice this week, and made a visit to the new Westfield Shopping Centre, so could have picked it up there, but I suspect it was more likely to be the packed tube and overground trains I caught on Thursday and Friday.

The sardine-like conditions we're expected to endure, travelling in the capital, really are the perfect place for exchanging germs: warm, stuffy carriages, with lots of close contact. When someone sneezes (without covering their mouth, naturally), you can almost hear the cries of glee from the little bugs as they are propelled on their way to infect a new victim.

Something I don't understand about my fellow travellers in these conditions is why no-one thinks of opening a window, to let some fresh air in and blow a few of the bugs out. So often the windows are all steamed up inside, and it's suffocatingly stuffy, yet every window remains resolutely and firmly shut. I often feel I'm a one-man window opening service: I force my way onto the carriage, and then hear myself say, 'could someone open a window, please?'. Invariably, someone obliges, but I don't know why it didn't occur to them to do it before.

Another of life's unfathomable mysteries, I suppose...

An occupational hazard

2008-11-14T17:26:00.004Z

I don't often raise pet hates here, but here's one.

I was recently told that one of the major causes of accidents at London's termini (and Paddington in particular) was people tripping and falling when walking from an arriving train to the concourse: it seems the scrum to get to the barriers and get home as soon as possible results in people tripping and falling over each other. And the major culprit? Small wheeled suitcases with long handles.

Now, if you've a large case I can see it's perfectly reasonable to use one with wheels and a short handle. And if you have a long way to walk, then it's also quite useful, whatever the size. But it seems to me that the size of the cases with handles is ever decreasing, while the handles themselves are getting longer. As people weave in and out of crowds, they can be hard to spot and form a perfect trip hazard.

The worst offenders seem to specialise in weaving diagonally in and out of the crowd, maximising the chances of bringing someone else down. (I've often thought it would make a good comedy sketch to show ever smaller cases until someone effectively has a purse at the end of a four foot long handle.) It's only a matter of time before someone gets seriously injured.

In the meantime, why can't people carry their cases for the fifty yards or so to the train? Or just buy a small back pack...

A very large creepy crawly in Kensington

2008-11-12T12:06:00.006Z

No, this isn't another story about how climate change is helping cockroaches to flourish in West London, but a spectacular new addition to the insect collection of the Natural History Museum.

Officially the world's longest insect, the new species of stick insect Phobaeticus chani (or Chan's Megastick if you prefer the common name) measures in at an astonishing 56.7cm, or just over 22 inches. That's including the legs, but at 35.7cm, it also wins the insect world record for the longest body.

Amazingly, despite being nearly two feet long, the species is new to science, with just three specimens in the world, brought to light courtesy of Mr Datuk Chan. The fact that it is thought to live high in the rain forest tree canopy of its native Borneo helps to explain why it has not been found before - as well as underlining the importance of the rain forest for natural diversity. And it's not just its length which is impressive: its eggs are unique too, produced with wing-like extensions that allow them to drift in the wind, helping to spread the species further.

All this underlines the desperate importance of preserving these important habitats from destruction: 'It is a sad thought that many other spectacular insect species are disappearing as their habitats are destroyed, before we have even had the chance to find and name them,' said Dr George Beccaloni, the stick-insect expert at the Natural History Museum. Even sadder in my view is that they are being lost at all.

One other little fact I didn't know is that the UK now has three species of stick insect (there are 3,000 world-wide), naturalised in the Isles of Scilly and Cornwall from their native New Zealand. Thankfully, they are not quite so large...

A Catalan discovery

2008-11-11T17:49:00.005Z

Those who travel a lot will know how nice it is to find somewhere interesting that isn't mentioned in most of the guidebooks. On a recent trip to Barcelona, we ventured half an hour north and discovered one such place: the large town of Terrassa. Mentioned only briefly in the Catalonia version of the Rough Guide, and even then described as 'dull and industrial', we went there to visit the only site mentioned in the guide, the unique grouping of three ancient Visigothic churches, commonly known as the Ensemble of Churches of Sant Pere.

To be fair, the 'Rough Guide' did rate this as worth visiting, but what we were pleasantly surprised to find was a town that, although it did have plenty of industry, and some sprawling, dull suburbs, nevertheless had an interesting and historic core, together with some other sights well worth a visit.

Best of these was a wonderful science and technology museum (lots of buttons to press), housed in a striking and beautiful Modernista (Art Nouveau) building dating back to 1909. In fact, Terrassa is full of such buildings, including a market, and the fabulous Masia Freixa, (built 1905-1910), a white wedding-cake of a building and one of Catalonia’s most stunning examples of Modernista architecture. There are several other museums to visit, including a Textile Museum and an old castle-turned-monastery, the Carthusian Castle of Vallparadis.

It really goes to show the value of doing a little bit more digging and researching before you travel.

All change on Kensington High Street

2008-10-28T15:38:00.009Z

Despite the fact that I'm a fairly regular visitor to Kensington High Street, it's taken me a while to realise that the former Safeway is now a large Tesco Metro. This has always been the main supermarket on Kensington High Street, as it occupies a high profile position just to the west of the entrance to the underground station.

With the acquisition of Safeway by Morrisons, I had thought we might have a bit more competition in the area: Waitrose have the former Budgens store at the top of Earl's Court Road, and the Whole Foods Market has opened up in the former Barker's building. But no, Morrisons have sold the store to Tesco, who already have the huge flagship Tesco Kensington store on Cromwell Road, about a mile away (and, confusingly, rather closer to Earl's Court). So Kensington now has two large branches of Tesco, but no Asda or Morrisons, and the nearest Sainsbury is over a mile away.

But perhaps the key word here is 'former'. There seems to be a steady merry-go-round of High Street names either moving in or out of Kensington High Street. As well as the supermarkets, Uniqlo have taken over the store that was 'Next', and I noticed today that the branch of H Samuel the jeweller has disappeared.

Now, I'm not a retail expert, so I'm not sure if this is a healthy sign or not? But there's no doubt that a major blow to the area was the departure of Barker's, the department store latterly owned by House of Fraser, which was situated in its wonderfully iconic modernist building (thankfully, still there).

Now I realise all this is driven by the markets, and that ultimately it depends on what customers want. But there's something very comforting about department stores, with their myriad of different sections conjuring up thoughts of old fashioned service, and offering the ability for Mum and Dad to browse separately and then meet up for coffee later, all in the same building. When I was a child, we often went to Bristol for the afternoon shopping, and I recall the main destination was always two of the large department stores, which stood side by side close to the University.

Of course, I always wanted to go to the toy department, or the book section, rather than have to sit and wait while my Mum tried on something in the Ladies' Wear section. (To this day, I can not abide going into women's wear sections in stores). And one of the real treats was going to see Father Christmas in his grotto every year. The reality was always a bit of a disappointment, of course - usually because the gift was uninspiring, and after all that queuing you only had a minute or so with him. But I don't recall any of the horror stories my friends had at the hands of an inept Santa with bad breath or clumsy hands. (Maybe it was because my Dad always stood guard?). Anyway, it was something I looked forward to.

Now, however, many places seem to have lost their department stores completely, and the departure of Barkers is just one more statistic in what seems to be an inevitable trend. But there's no doubt that I feel personally that its departure has taken away an intangible something - especially at Christmas. Where is Santa going to locate his grotto now?

Autumn to Winter

2008-10-27T11:45:00.004Z

And there was I, looking out of the window and admiring the leaves in the Square turning an autumnal gold when we get news of an imminent cold snap, which will undoubtedly catapult us into feeling all wintry.

But at least at the moment it is cold and sunny, which is among my favourite weather: it's dry, so you can enjoy a brisk walk in the sunshine without getting all hot and sweaty in the process. And about time after after our drearily damp summer. Wonderful.

Which is more than can be said for the experience of those poor souls who went on the Original Mountain Marathon in the Lake District over the weekend. If you've not seen the news, this was a major mountain race with 2,500 competitors, which had to be called off for the first time in its 41-year history, because of appalling weather: over two inches of rain (nearly three in some parts) fell over the first day, along with fierce winds. Many streams became impassable, and hundreds spent the night in farms and other hastily improvised shelters, while others toughed it out, camping on the mountains.

Now, of course, there's lots of fuss about why it was allowed to go ahead with such a grim weather forecast looming. And yet, I'm not quite sure what all the noise is about. The competitors were all experienced and well equipped, and there are bound to be some casualties in an event on this scale in any case.

And besides, what do people expect in the Lake District in late October? Snow, sleet, hail, rain and wind strike me as par for the course, a comment echoed by some of the competitors. Just don't expect me to be entering any time soon...

The British and their gardens

2008-10-26T15:57:00.007Z

I was writing a review of the Royal Horticultural Society's gardens at Wisley earlier today, which got me thinking about the relationship between the British and their gardens.

The RHS for many epitomises this relationship. Founded in 1804, it is dedicated to promoting and developing horticulture in all its forms and to encouraging gardening. And, on one measure, this seems to be as relevant as it ever was: Gardeners' World and Gardeners' Question Time remain very popular programmes, and the annual Chelsea Flower Show is always packed.

However, a stroll through any suburb these days will demonstrate the extent to which we're losing the tradition: gardens paved over for parking, some looking more like rubbish tips, and others simply neglected. And yet, garden centres have become popular destinations for a day out - with more people than ever wandering around the rows of plants and shelves groaning with gardening paraphernalia. But does this, and the popularity of the TV and radio programmes, show that we've become a nation of armchair gardeners instead?

Quite possibly.

I'm not quite sure why this has happened. I suspect a major reason is that we simply have more choice of what to do these days: in the past, people didn't have cars or necessarily the resources to go out regularly, so cultivating their little patch was itself an important leisure activity, as well as a source of pride. I know of many friends who simply can't find the time to spend in the garden, and simply pay for someone else to keep it all neat and tidy. And yet, when I had a garden, I used to find it incredibly cathartic to spend a few hours every weekend digging over the borders, weeding and generally getting my hands dirty.

Perhaps it's time to rediscover our love of gardening?

Shop till you drop

2008-10-25T10:13:00.007+01:00

It may be a case of unfortunate timing in the wake of news that we are now in a recession, but next Thursday sees the opening of the huge new Westfield shopping development in Shepherds Bush.

Built by the Westfield Group, this is - by any standards - a huge development. Situated on the former 1908 Exhibition Site near White City, this £1.6 billion development has been 10 years in the building. It covers 43 acres, with 265 shops and 40 restaurants set around a central atrium the size of a football pitch, under a vast undulating glass roof. The emphasis is on clothing outlets, with 16 brands new to the UK and a 'village' of smaller designer boutiques. On the south side is a traffic free 'boulevard', with 300 metres of restaurants. It's also been built with eco-credentials, such as a partial 'green roof', rainwater harvesting and facilities for waste separation and recycling. It will be Europe's largest in-town shopping centre, and the third largest in the UK, after the Gateshead Metro Centre and Bluewater in Kent.

And, as I reported in a previous blog, the developers have funded a huge investment in the local transport infrastructure to ensure that visitors can get to the site with ease: two new railway stations, one rebuilt underground station, a bus station, a new flyover from the A40 link road, and new pedestrian access. In preparation, London Transport have also diverted a number of bus routes to serve the area.

It'll be interesting to see what happens, on two counts: the first, and most obvious, is how it fares given we now seem to be in a full-blown recession. Recent news reports from the new shopping centre in Bristol have shown it to be busy with visitors, but a more careful look shows them not to be buying much: window shopping seems to be the order of the day.

The second is what it does to the rest of Shepherds Bush. Despite the asset of the green, Shepherds Bush has always had a rather mixed feel: lots of independent shops, as cosmopolitan as London gets, but decidedly down at heel, especially compared with the neighbouring parts of West London. The conundrum here - if there is indeed a ripple effect of prosperity - is whether the wider area can benefit without becoming another faceless High Street clone.

Certainly, the better public transport links should make a difference, especially tying the area into the rest of West London in what has been, until now, a decidedly hard-to-reach destination. (As recently as six months ago, there were no direct public transport links from Chelsea and Earl's Court to Shepherd's Bush). But will people simply walk straight through to the new centre? Will the two actually mix? Will someone buying a £1,500 Gucci bag really go on to sample the colourful chaos of Shepherd's Bush market?

It will also be interesting to see what impact the new development has on nearby High Street Kensington. In the last few years this has lost its major anchor store, Barkers, and some of the buses that used to come here have now been diverted to Shepherd's Bush. It already has some of the chains that are opening in Westfield, and until now has only had to compete with Hammersmith down the road - yet another area that could find itself undermined. Watch this space.

But for now, all eyes are focused on the opening event next week. The promotional video has already created waves with its images of 'human moths', shown fluttering in their thousands towards the bright, white light from that huge undulating roof. Only time will tell if a more appropriate analogy is that of moths flying too close to the flame...

A local excursion from West London

2008-10-23T08:47:00.007+01:00

You know how it is when you want to go somewhere for an afternoon, but don't want to organise a great trek? That's when you need to know what's in your own back yard.

It's funny how people often don't visit things on their doorstep. My mother lived in Cardiff for 26 years and has never visited the Castle - which is slap bang in the middle of the city centre, and which she passed on her way to work for several years. I've now lived in London for 14 years, and usually only go to places when I have visitors: I only got around to the a trip on the London Eye a few years ago, when my brother and family visited.

So it was a pleasant surprise to spend an afternoon along the Thames in Putney recently - or should that be Fulham? Now, I'd been to Putney High Street before, for shopping and to meet friends there for drinks, but I'd not seriously thought about it as a destination for a non-shopping afternoon. But what a revelation!

Firstly, there's the river banks around Putney Bridge. The river is actually quite interesting here - a greater variety of buildings, lots of boats moored around, and the odd canoeist too (something you don't get in the centre). On the north bank is the delightful and historic church of All Saints, Fulham. Although rebuilt in the 19th century, its tower dates to 1440 and it is full of interesting memorials and monuments from the Tudor period to the late 18th Century.

Next door is Bishop's Park - a large and really delightful space. Wrapped around the impressive grounds of Fulham Palace, it has both a Thameside walk and an historic Moat walk, areas of formal park, ponds, a skating area, tennis courts, bowling greens and lots of green space for kids to let off steam (and lots of benches for granny to sit down, too. And me, come to that). There's s small cafe at the Putney Bridge end for a cuppa afterwards.

And then there's Fulham Palace itself. Once a summer retreat for the Bishops of London, parts date back to 1495, although the Bishops used it from the 11th Century onwards. The grounds are very attractive in their own right, and the Palace is used for art exhibitions as well as conferences, corporate events and weddings. The grounds still contain allotments - a relic of efforts in World War II to grow more food domestically - as well as the remains of Britain's oldest botanical garden.

Crossing the bridge back into Putney, immediately on the left there's the tower of the church of St Mary. The tower is again late mediaeval, but the interior is largely the result of Victorian rebuilding and a major reconstruction after a disastrous arson attack in 1973. It now includes a cafe and community centre, as well as an exhibition on the 'Putney Debates'. These were discussions held in the church during the English Civil War when Cromwell's Army was stationed here. They revolved around the potential forms of Government that could be adopted to replace the Monarchy. Although they had limited impact at the time, in retrospect they probably influenced the development of modern parliamentary democracy and may have influenced the content of both the Declaration of Independence and the United States' Constitution.

After all that, you'll probably need some refreshment: apart from the cafe at St Mary's, Putney has several nice pubs.

Or - you could go shopping...

Putting the clocks forward..

2008-10-21T11:24:00.004+01:00

As if to make up for our lousy summer - or maybe to taunt us - now the weather has turned cooler and more autumnal, we're having lots of sunshine. I suppose I shouldn't moan - I could do with some nice sunny days to brighten up the approach of winter.

As ever, I'm dreading the change back to GMT. I'm firmly one of those who would rather stick with Summer Time all year round, and have double summer time in the summer. Not only would we then be in the same time zone as our European cousins, but we'd also get the extra light in the evening: I thinks this makes a real difference in the winter evenings, and there's plenty of evidence that it would reduce road traffic accidents, as it is the evening when people are tired that the darker evenings take their toll.

I can recall when I was a child there was much discussion about the undesirability of children going to school in the dark, but this seems to disregard the fact that they have to come home at dusk under the present arrangements. And apparently, the longer summer evenings should help the economy by extending the length of time people can undertake outdoor activities (there's not much value in having sunshine at 4am in the morning for most people).

Of course there are always complaints by the Scots and farmers. I can understand the Scots' point to some extent, but now they have their own Parliament, surely they can weight up the pros and cons of holding on to the same time zone as the rest of the UK? (Plenty of other countries work perfectly fine with different time zones). And the Norwegians and other Scandinavians manage with even shorter hours of winter daylight.

The farming question I have never understood: surely they can simply order their day around when there is daylight, regardless of what the clock says? After all, that is exactly how the livestock will behave.

Anyway, don't forget that the clocks go back this Sunday. At least we'll get that extra hour in bed...

An autumnal bounty

2008-10-17T08:59:00.010+01:00

After the washout summer we've had, it's quite a relief to get some cool, dry weather for autumn.

Autumn - or fall as our Transatlantic cousins call it - has been consistently voted America's favourite season for many years. If you've ever been to New England, you can understand why: nature's famous display of autumn colour there really is something to behold. But there's something equally captivating about autumn in Britain. We may not have quite the brilliant reds and golds, but it's still beautiful, and after the excesses of summer it can be quite nice to have some cooler, breezier weather, and begin to look forward to cosy winter evenings by the fire.

It's undoubtedly my favourite season. And I'm in good company - the poet John Donne famously wrote, "No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace, as I have seen in one autumnal face".

For children, a potent memory is kicking autumn leaves on the pavement or footpath, and for me the thrill has never entirely disappeared - I sometimes find myself, when there's no-one looking, kicking a big pile of fallen leaves just for the fun of it! However, a recent CBBC poll found an overwhelming majority of British children choosing summer as their favourite season, although the reasons given - no school and the prospect of summer holidays - provide a fairly predictable analysis!

But for me, autumn brings another added bounty: mushroom hunting. Now, this really is something we Brits are shy about. We seem to have a primeval fear of toadstools, being all too aware of the potentially deadly consequences of eating poisonous ones. Now, I have to confess here that I studied fungi as part of my PhD and am a member of the British Mycological Society. But even so, I'm not actually that great an expert when it comes to identifying wild fungi in the field - more a case of knowing when to admit that I can't identify it, and erring on the side of caution.

But some of the most poisonous fungi are easy to identify if you know what you are looking for, as are some of the best: the great Giant Puffballs (Calvatia gigantea), when young and fresh, are astonishing to look at and just as astonishing to eat: the size of a football, with a creamy interior resembling a fragrant, savoury marshmallow, they can be cut into slices and fried like steaks to great effect. Or some giant Parasol Mushrooms (Macrolepiota procera) - again with caps the size of dinner plates - have been simply delicious.

My best ever experience - although some find it a indigestible - was a cache of the wonderfully named 'Chicken of the Woods', Laetiporus sulphureus (sometimes known as the Sulphur Polypore). This vivid, almost fluorescent yellow and golden bracket fungus, is found on living broadleaved trees, and the younger and fresher golden part has a wonderful, rich taste, not entirely unlike chicken, and perfect for casseroles. It's a delicacy in parts of central Europe, and Germany especially, where they are more accustomed to gathering fungi. Even in Catalonia, the part of Spain I know best, the markets are full of brightly coloured fungi, and frozen and tinned versions are available for those who prefer easy preparation.

For those thinking about going mushroom hunting and with no experience, the best place to start is the website of the Association of British Fungus Groups. There, you can find a local group and join a fungal foray with experts who know what they doing. They will also advise you on which field guides to buy, and learn the ropes of identifying some of the commoner fungi, as well as which to steer clear of. You can even go on a residential course to learn more. They will also advise on conservation: as with all aspects of nature on our islands, this is an increasingly important issue (the rule of thumb is always to leave a proportion of what you've found to provide the next generation).

Even if you don't care to eat them - and many are not edible anyway - it can greatly increase your enjoyment of autumn walks in parks and the countryside when you see a little clutch of fungi, and many are great to photograph!

With luck, you'll discover another dimension to one of our best seasons.

Note: Although the proportion of fungi which are poisonous is relatively small, some species are deadly poisonous in small quantities, and medical intervention is not always successful. Only pick and eat fungi if you have enough knowledge and experience to make a positive and safe identification. If in doubt, leave them alone. Better still, join a properly organised foray. If you feel unwell after eating fungi, seek medical help immediately (ideally, with some uncooked samples if you have them).

Sacred Music by the Sea

2008-10-16T09:52:00.006+01:00

Want to learn to whirl like a dervish? To chant with Japanese Buddhists? Or just search for some spiritual inspiration from major world religions?

All this and more can be found in Brighton this week, hosting its fifth Annual Festival of World Sacred Music, a programme which aims to contribute towards greater understanding between people of different cultures and belief systems, through five days of sacred music from around the globe.

As well as the aforementioned whirling and chanting workshops, there are also performances from a wide range of religions; including Buddhism, Sufism, Judaism, Hinduism, and Bulgarian Orthodox Christianity, to name just a few. There are concerts, workshops, musical art installations and musical dance dramas.

The festival started off with a specially-commissioned piece of bell ringing at the ancient parish church of Brighton, St Nicholas, one of the pieces to come from a Christian background: there are also some spiritually-inspired pieces by Haydn and Mendelssohn from the Solstice Quartet, as well as the and mezzo-soprano Alessia Mankovskaya and violist José Gandia performing early Christian music from Spain and Eastern Europe. This will include the 13th-century Cantigas de Santa Maria, 16th-century Belarusian songs for family celebrations, and early Russian Orthodox Christian chants.

Last Sunday the London Bulgarian Choir (Winners of the BBC Radio 3 Open Choir of the Year 2006) performed an acclaimed repertoire of Bulgarian folk music and orthodox religious chants, in the wonderful setting of St Bartholomew's Church. A number of other churches and religious venues are hosting the programme, including the Chattri Memorial, high up on the windswept setting of the South Downs.

The memorial, which commemorates the Hindu and Sikh Commonwealth soldiers cremated there during World War I, hosts a daily performance organised by environmental arts group Red Earth. Each performance (by a different artist each day) will take place amidst sacred arts installations created specially for the festival.

So, broaden the mind and free the spirit - or just enjoy some live music that you might not otherwise get to hear...

The programme runs until Sunday 19th October. See website for details.

New railway stations in West London

2008-10-14T18:07:00.009+01:00

It's not often that new stations are an item of news - for years we've been more accustomed to station closures, but there's a whole raft of them currently appearing in West London - including one opening today.

The stimulus for all this work - at least around Shepherd's Bush - has been the development of the huge White City shopping development by Westfield. Included as part of a £200m package of transport improvements, financed by the developer, are two new stations and a refurbished one.

The first to open, on 29th September, was the brand new station on the West London Line at Shepherd's Bush, adjacent to the existing Central Line station. Part of the 'Overground' service and now operated by London Transport, the station features fully accessible platforms and a light and airy ticket office. There were teething troubles in its construction - a mistake on the platform width led to some expensive rebuilding, as well as delaying the opening - but it should now be a huge boon to the area. It will be served by the half-hourly Willesden Junction to Clapham Junction service.

Second was the re-opening of the Central Line station next door, which has been closed while the station was enlarged and refurbished. As well as the Westfield development, the station will also act as an interchange with the new Overground station 200 metres away. It has new escalators, a shiny new silver metal entrance block and lots of additional ticket gates, to help cope with the additional passengers anticipated once the shopping centre gets into full swing.

And today, a third station was opened in the area, this time a completely new one on the Hammersmith and City line at Wood Lane. Built on the western side of the Westfield development, this will be additional to the existing Shepherd's Bush Hammersmith & City station, which will be renamed Shepherd's Bush Market to avoid confusion with Shepherd's Bush Central line station. Wood Lane is again fully accessible, with four lifts, and a modern steel and glass structure enclosing the existing Victorian brick arches. Indeed, it claims to be the first new station on an existing tube line for 70 years.

Finally, a bit further south, another new station is beginning to take shape on the West London line at Chelsea Harbour, as part of new housing and hotel developments at Imperial Wharf. The station is not due to open until 2010, but will radically improve access to what has been a bit of a public transport dead end in West London for many years.

With all these new stations, the West London Line will move from being something of a Cinderella line to an integral part of West London's transport infrastructure. However, there are already questions about its capacity, given that peak-hour trains are already full. Plans are in place to help tackle this, with new air-conditioned trains on order, with four rather than three coaches, and a new timetable planned for 2011 which will see four trains an hour rather than the current two.

So - some good news for a change!

Damn!

2008-10-14T09:53:00.006+01:00

Occasionally, I see something advertised that I would like to have gone to, but can't, and I curse myself for not being better organised.

One such event starts tomorrow at the Albert Hall: Bill Bailey's Remarkable Guide to the Orchestra. I'm something of a fan of Bill Bailey - maybe it's the West Country connection, or because he clearly doesn't worry about his looks. But I really like his oddball sense of humour and the streak of essential humanity beneath his humour (I find many contemporary comedians rather cruel when they are doing live performances). For me, he was an essential part of 'Never mind the Buzzcocks', and it's not quite the same without him.

What many may not know is that he is a classically trained musician in his own right, and this production is a collaboration with Anne Dudley, one of the UK’s most celebrated composers and arrangers. The theme is essentially an irreverent guide to the orchestra, including popular TV and film themes - all with Bill's unique take on life.

I suppose I'll just have to satisfy myself reading the reviews afterwards.

Damn!

Bill Bailey’s Remarkable Guide to the Orchestra is showing at the Royal Albert Hall on October 15th, 16th & 17th 2008.

A patch of green in West London

2008-10-13T14:05:00.004+01:00

Kew green is a lovely spot that almost has the feel of a village green, with its elegant Georgian houses, pubs, pretty St Anne's Church and even a cricket pitch (home to the local Kew Cricket Club).

It was mentioned in a Parliamentary Survey of Richmond taken in 1649, described as 'a piece of common or uninclosed ground called Kew Green, lying within the Township of Kew, conteyning about 20 acres.' Cricket was first recorded being played on the Green in 1737, and the Green itself was enclosed by a private Act of Parliament in 1824, preserving it in its current form. The Green is beautifully maintained, with mature trees around the perimeter. In one corner of the Green is an old horse pond, which has a small island and planted pond edges, enabling a range of water birds to nest in peace and safety.

Alas, it would all be nicer still were it not bisected by the A205, better known as the South Circular. It's a hopelessly busy road, and entirely unsuitable for the amount of traffic that now uses it. (An apt comment I once heard is that, while the North Circular really is a road, the South Circular is just a collection of signposts). Crossing it in the area of the Green requires taking your life in your hands. (It also means that the park is only suitable for children who are fully aware of traffic.)

Still, the Kew Gardens end is a lovely enclave, the church of St Anne is worth a visit in its own right, and the sound of the traffic soon quietens down as you walk towards the entrance to Kew Gardens.

Up and down to York

2008-10-11T09:39:00.005+01:00

Every year, my motorbike club has a final event of the year called the 'Birthday Bash', which commemorates and celebrates the founding of the club over 30 years ago. It's a chance to meet up with old (and new) friends, visit a part of the country you might not otherwise visit, go on a bike run with a different mix of people, and generally enjoy some good food, drink and company.

This year's event was in York, which meant quite a trek for me - I keep my bike in Brighton rather than West London, as I got fed up of it getting knocked over in the streets by ignorant motorrists here. (But that's for another blog).

Unfortunately for me, the week-end in question just happened to be unseasonably cold, with a grim forecast, so I decided to break the journey: a round trip of 600 miles on my own over three days in the cold and wet did not seem to so appealing (not that I'm a fair weather biker - more a case of making things a bit easier - after all, it's supposed to be fun!).

So I decided to break my journey at Peterborough, which is roughly half way on the route, and stayed with the very jolly people at the Sibson Inn on the Great North Road. It's a lovely old converted farmhouse, with many of the rooms arranged around a courtyard in former outbuildings. The food is excellent too - dinner was really good, and it's nice to have a cooked breakfast made to order rather than serve yourself from a hotplate.

Before setting off the next day, I headed to the lovely little village of Castor for a look at its famous church of St Kyneburgha. This is well worth a short detour if you are ever in the area, for its astonishing array of Norman carvings and the 15th century painted angels (over 60 of them) which adorn its roof.

And then to York, staying at the hostel at York Racecourse; this provides very decent budget accommodation for groups, with good traditional cooking; everyone was impressed by the evening meal of steak pie (or veggie lasagne) with plenty of fresh vegetables. It certainly lived up to the image of generous northern hospitality!

York itself, of course, needs no introduction, whether you like history, railways, churches or all three. The downer was that it was packed, with a particular emphasis, it seemed, on large organised tour groups. Still, both the National Railway Museum and York Minster live up to expectation - though, oddly, the former is free and you now have to pay to get into the latter!

The run back started with a quick visit to the legendary Squire's Cafe (well, legendary in biking circles): this former pub, taken over as a milk bar in the 1960s, is a biking mecca: literally thousands of bikes a week visit during the summer months. It was a great opportunity to say farewell to our friends before heading off back to the four corners of the UK.

And I even got home without getting wet!

Holy Trinity Church in York

2008-10-10T13:02:00.003+01:00

OK, more old churches: this time, from a recent visit to York.

Phrases like 'atmospheric', 'hidden gem' and 'perfectly preserved' often get bandied about when talking about old buildings, but this church, tucked away from the busy, touristy streets of old York, fits them better than most.

For a start, it really is hidden: the churchyard lies quietly secluded from the busy streets of York, accessed by narrow alleyways. It would not look out of place in a remote village. And it is exceptionally well preserved: such restoration as was undertaken by the Victorians seems to have been extraordinarily sensitive. It is about as close as you can get to how a church would have looked after the Reformation: dark, quiet, homely, with uneven floors, high box pews and plain walls. With candle-light it must perfectly evoke the late 17th century. It is rightly a Grade I listed building.

The church actually dates back to the 12th century, although the current building owes rather more to the 13th-15th centuries. The box pews are recorded as being repaired in 1633, and new ones added in 1700-1725. The pulpit dates from 1695.

But the church's most notable feature - as is so often the case in York - is its mediaeval stained glass. The windows are Decorated and Perpendicular in style. The best is the late Perpendicular east window: this dates from 1470-71 and was presented by the then rector, John Walker. The glass depicts saints, including St George and St Christopher, as well as heraldic shields, around a central panel in which a representation of God as the Trinity holding the dead Christ, with the donors at his feet.

Other features include a simple 15th century font and wall plaques recalling Lord Mayors of York, including the infamous 'Railway King', George Hudson.

Whether you just want ten minutes' peace and quiet, or some spiritual solace from the touristy rush that is modern York, a visit is a must.

The church is in the care of the Churches Conservation Trust.

Escape to the West

2008-09-30T16:26:00.005+01:00

Now that our summer seems to have well and truly ended, thoughts turn to planning what to do next summer. (Well, you have to have something to look forward to, don't you, as the nights draw in?)

My other half's brother lives in Clevedon, in Somerset, and yesterday we were talking about a place that he'd like to visit close to his home: Steep Holm Island, in the Bristol Channel. So we've agreed top start planning a trip next year.

There's something about islands that stirs the imagination: the sense of escape and isolation; the sense of adventure and achievement in getting there; and something primeval about the sea, sky, and land ahoy!

But there's more to Steep Holm than it just being a small island: It's a nationally important nature reserve, with a colourful history of human occupation. As its name implies, this rocky outcrop of just under 50 acres (20 hectares) has high sea cliffs on all sides, and rises to just over 256ft (78m). Geologically, the island (formed of Carboniferous limestone) is a continuation of the Mendip Hills, lying just off the promontory of Brean Down in Somerset

Steep Holm has been inhabited since Roman times, with evidence of a Viking presence, too. (The name 'holm' is Norse and means 'island'.) In the 12th century, a small priory was established here, and a warren of rabbits was managed until modern times. In the late 1860s, the island was fortified as part of a plan by Prime Minister Palmerston to protect the Bristol Channel against foreign attack: barracks were built and two batteries of 7-ton guns installed (now scheduled ancient monuments). The island was similarly fortified in both subsequent World Wars.

Since 1974, the island has been owned by the Kenneth Allsop Memorial Trust and maintained as a nature reserve: it is a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) thanks to its unique Mediterranean micro-climate (frosts are rare), relative lack of human disturbance, and because botanical records have been kept for 400 hundred years.

The island is covered with dense thickets of Alexanders (Smyrnium olustratum), home to the only UK colonies of Wild Peony (Paeonia mascula), as well as important colonies of wild leek (Allium ampeloprasum), henbane (Hyoscyamun niger), Caper Spurge (Euphorbia lathyrus). A form of Buck's-horn plantain (Plantago coronupus) is unique to the island. Indeed, the 'Type specimen' (the definitive specimen which describes the species) for the leek plant was taken from the island and is now at the herbarium in Kew Gardens.

As well as the rabbits, there are also colonies of shy Muntjac Deer, as well as several species of gull, and it is a stopping point for many types of migrant birds. Its isolation has meant that many types of animals have diverged from their mainland counterparts and are studied for their genetic traits - especially apparent in the snail populations and those of the Slow Worm, Anguis fragilis.

Although no longer inhabited (except for wildlife wardens for part of the year), it can be visited. The Kenneth Allsop Memorial Trust organises boat trips during the summer months - for which advanced booking (by telephone) is essential. Part of an old barracks is used as an interpretation centre.

There is no landing pier on the island, so visitors must be fit enough (and suitably dressed!) to go ashore by gang-plank, and to ascend the steep paths on the island. Given the Channel's fickle weather, conditions are always changeable, windy and usually cooler than on the mainland. The Channel's strong tides mean that visits normally last about 8-10 hours.

Full details are on the Trust's websites - as above, and at: www.steepholm.freeserve.co.uk/trips.html.

Performance Cars at Earl's Court

2008-09-29T11:58:00.008+01:00

One of the BBC's most popular programmes -and one of its most successful exports around the world - is 'Top Gear'.

It's come a long way from the days when it was a rather specialist but sober appraisal of the latest models in the world of motoring. The team - Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May - are among the most well known of BBC's presenters, and their 'boys' toys' approach to motoring - focusing on high performance cars, daredevil (or just plain wacky) exploits, and all-round entertainment has become hugely popular. (There's a 5-year waiting list to appear in the audience).

The programme (and Clarkson, especially) trades on an irreverent political incorrectness, which makes the programme loathed and loved in equal measure - depending on where you stand on green issues and whether you think using 'girly' or 'gay' is an appropriate adjective in the 21st Century. Less controversially, and a good indication of the entertainment factor, is the long line-up of guests also waiting to appear, to test their skills driving a saloon car around a racing circuit at high speed - recording their performance against other guests in a league table.

Anyway, for those for whom a weekly fix is not enough, and who can't wait 5 years for a ticket, the Top Gear team will be appearing at the forthcoming 'MPH' (ie miles per hour) performance car event at Earl's Court between 30th October and 2nd November. The rest of the show - subtitled the Prestige and Performance Motor Show - concentrates on high performance cars, including rare one-off models . Think Ferrari, Maserati, Lamborghini, Koenigsegg, Spyker and Aston Martin.

There are also sections featuring the lastest add-on gadgets, classic sports cars and 'Tuning and Styling', if you fancy yourself as a boy racer but can't quite afford a Maserati. (It'll be interesting to see if the credit crunch will impact on sales - but perhaps that'll just encourage more window shopping?)

But I'm not sure how Clarkson et al would view a household that doesn't even own a car...

Who should take credit for the Credit Crunch?

2008-09-24T15:11:00.007+01:00

With property sales in West London grinding to a standstill, and the news media filled with stories about the credit crunch, the turmoil in the markets and desperate action by Central Banks on both sides of the Atlantic, those of us watching helplessly from the sidelines can but wonder how we got here.

Of course, the greed of bankers, deregulation and loose fiscal regimes in the UK and USA have been blamed. It's all 'their' fault: the banks, the regulators, the government. But where, in all this, is the discussion about common sense, on the part of both lenders and borrowers? What happened to individual responsibility?

Over the past few years, on any discussion about money matters, I have always ended feeling terribly old-fashioned and conservative (with a small 'c'). I've lived through the roller-coaster of economic cycles from the 1960s onwards, and recall the strict financial limits imposed on me when I applied for my first mortgage: I could borrow only 2.5 times my own salary. Credit card and other debts were probed in the process.

I must admit that I was one of that lucky generation that didn't pile up huge student debts, thanks to the grant system and working through my holidays. Even so, I've paid off my credit card every month for 30 years, and only ever taken out one bank loan beyond a mortgage - and that was for my first - and very second-hand - car. (That Ford Fiesta was 11 years old before I sold it).

For everything else, I was taught to save first and take my time in deciding what to buy. That way, I got a certain sense of achievement out of buying an item: and still do. It takes me hours of research before buying a new camera; I try on dozens of suits before deciding which fits best.

Fast-forward to the the situation over the past few years: I listened with horror to younger colleagues at work, who had five-figure student debts ("but I don't have to pay that off yet"); five-figure credit card debts ("but I want a new (ie brand new) car, now"); and were taking out loans of 6 times their joint salaries for property ("we want a house with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. We couldn't possibly start with a small flat. We need a separate dining room.").

And all this on salaries of £30,000. In London.

At the same time, some older colleagues were cheerfully extending their mortgages by tens of thousands to pay for exotic foreign holidays, designer label clothes, new cars. I could understand it if it was for their children's education, or a house extension - but it wasn't. Again, these things were classed as essentials. The scale of some of this additional debt - which, of course, all has to be paid off with interest - made me feel queasy.

When we talked about interest rates, the reply was "they are at an historic low". Well, yes. But won't that just increase the leverage? A rise from 4% to 5% is a rise of 25%. "But the Chancellor says there will no more boom and bust". Er, yes. But do you believe him? Others say the housing market is becoming a bubble. "Then let's hope they're wrong!"

But substituting hope for prudence isn't much of a policy. We seem to have become terribly child-like in our approach to money: "If they'll lend it to me, it must be OK". And child-like in our desire for things: "I must have this now". At the other end, of course, banks have colluded in all this. But then, with the security of someone's house as the back-stop, their risk - or so they thought - was controlled. But you can bet the bank managers won't be homeless (although some junior staff might get waved good-bye).

I realise I'm going to sound terribly smug in writing this, and terribly kill-joy. But I don't take pleasure in the misery the current situation is causing: I know too many people stuck in the mire, and desperately worried. And few of us are actually immune: I need to put my own property on the market before too long, and I'm self-employed, so I'm caught up in this as much as anyone else.

That said, I must confess there is a part of me that thinks a brake on at least some of the excesses of the past decade or so might not be a bad thing. We might find better ways of spending our leisure time than shopping. It might even take the shine off the vacuous celebrity culture we've come to worship. But it's a terrible price to pay.

So, perhaps it is time to be pay heed to Shakespeare, in Hamlet, when Polonius says:

Neither a borrower nor a lender be
For loan oft loses both itself and friend
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

Or maybe time to resurrect Micawber's law..?

A grand Pearson church in South Wales

2008-09-23T17:58:00.003+01:00

It's interesting how many of the great Victorian churches are located in surprising places, and not just those in West London. St Cuthbert's, my parish church, is tucked away in a leafy crescent and would never be found by accident.

And so it is with Port Talbot: the South Wales town is almost universally associated in most people's minds with the huge nearby Steel Works. But it is also home - among other things - to one of Wales's most splendid Victorian churches, St Theodore's.

The church was the brainchild of Miss Emily Charlotte Talbot, the local landowner and heiress of the Talbot family fortune. She and her father were largely responsible for the development of the town as a major port (which bears their name), but in 1876 her brother, Theodore Mansel Talbot, was killed in a riding accident, and her sister Olivia had also died young, in 1894.

The church was built in their memory, and consecrated in 1897. It became the parish church in 1901. The unusual dedication - to the 7th century Greek monk who later became Archbishop of Canterbury - is in memory of Miss Talbot's brother.

The architect chosen for the new church was John Loughborough Pearson (1817-1897), one of the foremost names of the Victorian Gothic Revival, and responsible (among many others) for Truro Cathedral, Brisbane Cathedral, St Augustine's in Kilburn, and a host of restorations on other English cathedrals.

For Miss Talbot, he designed a church on a cathedral-like scale and of the highest quality. The church is traditional in plan, with transepts, nave aisles and north and south porches and a Lady Chapel extending from the south aisle. It is all executed in the Early English Gothic style, although some of the fittings and architectural detailing is in the more elaborate Decorated Gothic. An intended west tower was never built so, unusually, there is no west door. The exterior is in the local sandstone with bath stone dressings, with the interior faced entirely in ashlar.

Inside, the west end comprises a large vestibule, which would have been the vault under the western tower, had it ever been built. This opens up into the nave of five bays of tall gothic arcades, surmounted by a triforium of romanesque blank arcades, pierced with quatrefoils, rising in turn to a clerestory of paired Early English lancets. The extraordinarily lofty nave roof is a wooden arched truss, and continues across the crossing, giving a great sense of spaciousness. The aisles, Lady Chapel and Chancel are all vaulted. Both East and West windows consist of three tall Early English lancets.

The fittings are of an appropriate quality for such a building: both pulpit and font are executed in marble, and the Lady Chapel and South Aisle have windows by Clayton and Bell. Two of these, depicting the Archangels Michael and Gabriel, commemorate Port Talbot's only holder of the Victoria Cross, Lieutenant Rupert Price Hallowes, a member of the church who was killed in Hooge, Belgium, in 1915.

The Lady Chapel also has a curtain screen by William Morris, impressively detailed wrought iron screens, and the sanctuaries of both the Lady Chapel and the High Altar have pavements of beautifully preserved encaustic tiles. In addition, an imposing gilded Victorian reredos has recently been installed behind the High Altar, brought from St James the Great, Cardiff. This was originally thought to have been by Comper, although is now thought that it may have been a product of his workshop.

The church had suffered terribly from the effects of industrial pollution over the years, with both stonework and stained glass badly blackened, but was completely restored between 1996 ad 2002 after a massive fund raising effort secured over £500,000. The interior is now a light and very impressive space, although it can - because of its sheer scale - feel a little empty in between services. On the other hand, it makes a splendid setting for the traditional Mass, with excellent acoustics and plenty of space for incense to rise!

The parish is a busy and active one, and is in the traditional Anglo-Catholic tradition. It has recently raised yet more funds, for a new Youth Hall adjacent to the church, which has now been completed. (The parish hall is also undergoing refurbishment at the time of writing). There are two other daughter churches within the parish: full details of these, and of all events at St Theodore's, can be found on the parish website.

For more photographs, see the review of Church of St Theodore, Port Talbot.

Conkers Everywhere

2008-09-18T11:48:00.004+01:00

As autumn gently arrives (not that it's following much of a summer), the trees in the square in front of my flat are beginning to turn brown, and the horse chestnuts are shedding their conkers.

Now, as a child I remember being taken by my Mum and Dad to collect conkers on a lane on the hill of Brent Knoll in Somerset: the conkers from the few trees around where we lived were quickly snapped up by eager young hands, whereas where we went there was less competition.

Of course, we always collected far more than we needed to play conkers at school, in those blissful, far off days when, if you'd told anyone that playing conkers might one day be banned by the Health & Safety people, they would have thought you were mad.

Fast-forward to 2008 and the trees in Nevern Square (and one in particular) are producing a bountiful harvest of fresh, plump conkers. I think they are beautiful objects in their own right, but alas, no-one seems to collect them these days: there are plenty of children around here, but clearly this is one tradition that has bitten the dust. There are drifts of conkers lying in the road, just waiting to be squashed by parking cars.

It seems such a terrible waste to me: perhaps I should go and collect some, just for old times' sake...

Barcelona: Monastery and Museum of Pedralbes

2008-09-17T11:23:00.005+01:00

OK, so I'm still trawling my recent holiday in Spain for inspiration, but when you go somewhere as nice but relatively unknown as Pedralbes, I feel I should bring it to the attention of the wider world. Situated some way out in what is now a genteel northern suburb of Barcelona, this is one sight that it is well worth travelling out of the centre to see: the Monastery at Pedralbes is one of the most important Gothic monuments in Catalonia. Its cloister is famed for its delicate architecture, and it includes important frescoes by Ferrer Bassa, a student of Giotto.

History

The monastery was founded by Elisenda de Montcada in 1327, the young Queen of the Catalan King Jaume II. Married at just 13 years of age, when King Jaume was already an old man, the monastery was intended as a place for her to spend her widowhood. Elisenda was never a Nun, however; the early monastery included a small palace complex, which was to be demolished upon her death.

The monastery – actually a convent – was built for the _Poor Clares_, the female equivalent of the Fransiscans. Built in the Gothic style at the height of Catalonia’s Golden Age, Elisenda’s generous endowment (the Montcadas were one of Catalonia’s most powerful and richest families) meant that no expense was spared on its architecture: the three-storey cloister is one of Europe’s largest and most harmonious.

Most of main buildings and the church date from the 14th century, although it was extended and improved over subsequent decades, especially the 16th. Many of the Nuns came from wealthy families, and brought considerable endowments, used to buy religious art and other sacred objects: even the size and layout of the Nun’s cells reflected their social status.

After the 16th Century it entered a period of decline, although it continued as a convent except for a short period during the Catalan Republic in the 1930s, when the Nuns moved out to escape the attentions of the Anarchists.

As a closed order, few people were able to see its interior or Treasures. In the 1970s, the Nuns opened part of the Cloister for public viewing one morning a week, which led to the Catalan Government negotiating greater access in 1983, when the cloister and most of the original monastic buildings were opened permanently as a museum: the Nuns (still a closed order) now live in a newly-built annex.

The complex includes a Treasury representing seven centuries of religious art, sacred objects and books. The collection is both unique and important as – apart from its size and quality – it represents one of the few intact collections of mediaeval and renaissance art still located in the institution for which it was intended.

The tour

The reception leads straight onto the Cloister, in many ways the highlight of the visit. Each side has twenty nine gracefully arched sides, arranged in three storeys. The use of incredibly delicate clustered columns of marble (much stronger than stone) gives an unusually light and open feel. The columns capitals are decorated with the King and Queen’s coats of arms, a clear fusion of the secular and religious.

Immediately on the right is the chapel of St Michael, decorated in 1343 from floor to ceiling with frescoes by Ferrer Bassa, a student of Giotto. Giotto’s influence is tangible in features such as the bold use of colour, naturalistic postures and almond eyes, although it is likely that Bassa’s own students did much of the work. The themes reflect the life of Christ and the consolations of the Virgin Mary.

Next is the chapel of the tomb of Queen Elisenda. It is in the Decorated Gothic style, with the tomb itself under a large canopy. The tomb is double-sided: on the cloister side Elisenda is depicted as a widow and penitent, attended by saints and angels, on the church side as a Queen. Adjacent to this in the same chapel – and rather smaller – is the tomb of the first abbess, Fransesca ça Portella. Back in the cloister, a series of three more tombs of abbesses are set against a background of well preserved but rather more prosaic 14th century frescoes.

Next, at the beginning of the cloister’s west side, is the entrance to the Treasures of the Monastery, contained in the enormous vaulted space of the original dormitory (first floor level – there is a lift). The exhibition also describes the development and use of this space, which in the 20th century was divided into individual sleeping cells. At the end of the dormitory is another vaulted room, the Queen’s Hall, which may be the only part of Elisenda’s Palace rooms to survive. The small but impressive collection consists of paintings, alter-pieces, crosses, monstrances and a rare, complete collection of late mediaeval books of sacred monastic choir music. Flemish and Italian art are particularly well represented.

Back to the cloister, the next part of the visit includes a number of the Nun’s day cells at ground and first floor level. Most of these can only be seen through their windows, and contain altars and pieces of religious art as well as everyday objects. The size and decoration of the cells reflected the individual Nun’s secular status and wealth – somewhat at odds with the principles of monastic life, but reflecting the circumstances of its foundation. The most interesting rooms (which can be entered) are the store room (which leads to an artificial cave, used for storing perishable items), and the dispensary of herbal medicines.

The cloister gardens are worth visiting at this point: part have been laid out as a mediaeval medicinal and culinary herb garden. They contain a pool, an elaborate 18th well-head above a huge cistern, and a three-tiered fountain topped by an angel.

On the far side of the cloister is the impressive dining hall and kitchen: the latter has large stone sinks and no fewer than three cooking ranges: an early 19th century tiled range, an early 20th century coal-fired range and a modern butane stove. Further along is the huge complex of the infirmary, rebuilt in the 16th Century – one of the best preserved examples of a late mediaeval hospital complex, with four large wards, each with space for four beds. It was paid or by King Philip II and bears his Coat of Arms. Below this is the vaulted Procurator’s office, where food, wine and other goods would be stored, a passage leading to the base of the cistern, and a store room containing a series of charming 19th and 20th century dioramas of religious scenes: making such scenes for public is still widely practised in Catalonia.

Past the infirmary is the Abbey, the home of the Abbess, which contains its original 14th Century wall decorations (resembling wall hangings) and an impressive 14th Century mural of the Crucifixion. The next and final room is the Chapter House, which contains another mural of the Virgin and child, 14th Century glass windows, and an impressive ceiling boss of the Virgin with the 12 apostles.

The Church is a large but spare example of Catalan Gothic (characterised by its height and width, and lack of flying buttresses), with side chapels and an apse. Originally covered in whitewash and frescoes, its 19th Century ‘restoration’ scraped it back to bare stone walls, which lend it a rather bare feel, but highlights the scale and forms of the architecture. The most impressive monument is the other side of the tomb of Queen Elisenda, this time dressed as a Queen, under a Decorated Gothic canopy.

Opposite the main entrance is a 19th Century building, decorated with capitals and carvings – some copies - from mediaeval (mostly Romanesque) churches.

Practicalities

The Monastery is a 15 minute walk east along from Reina Elisenda station, the terminus of line L6 on the FGC service from Plaça de Catalunya: take the lift from the entrance hall to Passeig de la Reina Elisenda de Montcada, and turn right. Alternatively, buses 22, 63, 64 and 78 stop just outside. The entrance is through an archway and then up a short street.

There are lockers to leave bags, lavatories and drinks machines by the reception, which also has a small range of items books, postcards, etc – for sale. The ground floor of the cloister, its gardens and the Treasury are fully accessible, but some of the rooms, the Procurator’s Office and the upper gallery of the cloister are only accessible by steep stairs. The street outside is also rather unevenly cobbled.

Access to the church is not included in the price or subject to the same opening times: it is still used regularly by the Nuns. It can be seen on a more restricted basis – telephone in advance or enquire at the reception for details.

The entrance ticket is also valid at six other sites run by the City History Museum of Barcelona (MCHB), including the Park Güell Interpretation Centre, the museum-building complex at the Plaça del Rei, the Museum Verdaguer and the Santa Caterina Archaeological Interpretation Centre.

Barcelona is a wonderful city, but there's no doubting that the centre is hectic and can get oppressive in the summer heat. Pedralbes is the perfect antidote - an oasis of peace and calm. But don't just take it from me - go and see it yourself.

Spanish TV

2008-09-15T13:42:00.006+01:00

One of the paradoxes of modern life is how much we complain about the quality of television programmes in the UK, and yet it is widely regarded abroad as one of the best TV systems in the world. I've always found this hard to believe. Until, that is, we started watching TV when we went to Spain.

Now, don't think me obsessive: when we are on holiday, we don't just sit in watching this stuff. We do try to get out and about - honestly. But there's something temptingly fascinating about watching TV in another country and another language, and Spain is one of the most informative...

Spanish TV – all 14 or so free channels – is good introduction to the Spanish psyche. For a start, programmes often start and finish late, and get rescheduled at short notice. The TV schedules are renowned for saying ' Sin determinar' (not known) when referring to the films planned for the week ahead. Do they really not know what is going to be on?

Then there are lots and lots of adverts; between programmes, these can last for anything up to ten minutes. These are for all sorts of products that would fall foul of the Advertising Standards controls in the UK, especially for wonder slimming products which claim to lose you five inches of waistline just by painting on some green goo. In any programme with an exciting ending – a film or quiz show, for example – just before the end there is often a long advert break of at least five minutes.

Sport is a national obsession, with a lot more on sports such as cycling, motor-cycling and motor-racing. Soccer, of course, is the main attraction, and matches are often repeated again and again. For internationals, the commentators get very worked up when goals are scored for Spain: they shout ‘goal’ and hold the note for as long as they can, before becoming completely hyperactive - as in, 'goooooaaaaaaaaal. Goal por Espanya! Goal! Goal! Goal! Goal! Goal!'. It's definitely not 'Grandstand'.

Daytime chat show programmes - of which there are a huge number - are notable for large groups of guests - six or seven is not uncommon - who often all talk at once. Seemingly random camera shots often focus on the crotch area with gratuitous, lingering images of women’s cleavages. (This can happen in any programme, actually). Women’s make-up - especially for late middle-aged celebrities - is often heavy to the point of scary, with lashings of mascara and eye-liner featuring prominently.

One of the most interesting contrasts with the UK is the Spanish equivalent of ‘Deal or No Deal’ , called ‘Alla Tu’, on Tele 5. It’s much more fun that the

version to watch – completely hyper-active. Expect spontaneous singing and dancing (another facet of Spanish TV, generally), especially if someone gets a run of bad luck - they have a song they sing, which goes something on the lines of, 'let's do away with the bad luck'. The absence of Noel Edmonds helps, of course: there is none of the faux seriousness in trying to build up the tension. The other contrast with Noel Edmonds is that the host is usually the oh-so-televisual Jesus Vasquez – a fantastically worked-out gay man, and generally regarded as one of the most handsome in Spain.

On the plus side, Catalan TV makes some wonderful documentaries - my favourite being the 'Routes of Faith' programme every Sunday morning, when they travel around the little-known villages and towns of the Catalan Pyrenees looking at the history and fascinating early mediaeval architecture of their churches (whole chunks of the area are included as UNESCO Heritage Sites). They also buy in lots of foreign stuff (they seem to like British programmes - lots of Dr Who and Spooks), which is a good way to get your head around the heavy consonant sounds of the language.

But best of all are the South American soaps. These can show schoolgirls (looking about 25 and heavily made up) in unfeasibly sexy uniforms (tall leather boots, crotch-high skirts and copious cleavage, anyone?) - which seem to be timed mysteriously accurately for when Spanish men are returning home from work. But most show feuding families, á la Dynasty, with evil, greedy and jealous women a speciality.

The general format of all of these consists of unfeasibly complex plots, with five or six parallel story-lines (which develop tediously slowly), featuring unhappy but vengeful rich people with their (largely) contented peasants in the background. I read somewhere that this had been devised as a form of social control - to encourage the general population to aspire to the lifestyles they see, without actually fostering resentment against the rich for their wealth.

The downside of watching this stuff as a foreigner is that you learn a rather skewed vocabulary: words like murder, poison, revenge and hate, and a whole lot of unpleasant ways of bumping people off. The highlight at the end of one series, La Tormenta, was one of the women being bitten by a spider just as she was about to reach the zenith of her drawn-out evil scheme: it paralysed her, and the camera focused on her terrified face as a boa constrictor slithered into view...

Perhaps 'East Enders' could take a note or two...?

Cerrado...

2008-09-14T17:48:00.006+01:00

Oh dear - I've just realised this is another whingeing blog about our recent visit to Spain. We did have a lovely holiday, honest. But each time we came across a disappointment or other, my other half says, 'You have to blog this'. So here goes, and I promise to write something more cheerful next time.

Anyway, one of the frustrations of holidays is visiting places to find they are in the process of being refurbished, rebuilt, or that their collections have been moved somewhere else. I recall many such experiences when I travelled around Europe on my month-long ‘Inter-Rail’ ticket: finding the twin towers of Cologne Cathedral wrapped in scaffolding being one of the more memorable and irritating.

More recently, the tower of Frankfurt's great church was similarly clad, although I have no doubt that lots of visitors to these shores have been saying the same thing about St Paul's Cathedral in London over the last few years (and they still haven't finished).

Now, of course I understand completely that old buildings need a lot of tlc to keep them in prime condition, and that museums have to refresh and reorganise their collections from time to time to keep them interesting. But there’s no doubt that some places seem more prone to this than others.

Having travelled a lot around Spain in recent years, it seems particularly prone to the ‘closed at short notice’ syndrome, with even the local tourist office unaware that a site or collection is currently undergoing refurbishment. Among the many joys of a recent holidays there, this happened twice.

The first was a visit planned to a restored archaeological site – a prehistoric Iberian settlement, in fact - on the edge of the resort of Calafell near Tarragona. We had visited a sister site a few days before, and been given information about this site, among others. We asked about opening hours and so forth, and were assured it was open.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too far to travel there when we visited a few days later – and just as well, as the main entrance was firmly closed, with a photocopied notice informing us that it was being refurbished and would reopen after the tourist season, in October. Quite why this timing was felt appropriate wasn’t clear – why reopen after the tourists have gone home? Still, we got to peek from outside, and it looks worth a look on our next trip.

Anyway, the experience was repeated a few days later at another site, fortunately only half an hour’s walk from where we were staying in Vilanova. This is a large and very imposing mansion on the edge of town, called Masia d’en Cabanyes. It was one of the houses belonging to a wealthy 18^th-19^th century family, whose son, Manuel de Cabanyes (1808-1833), became a noted poet. His life and poetry must wait for another day – it’s worth a blog in its own right – but suffice to say that this one of his family’s mansions is now a museum to the Catalan Romantic movement.

Unfortunately, the museum seems to suffer particularly badly from ‘temporary closure’ syndrome. For starters, it’s only open on Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays from 10am to 2pm, so catching it open requires planning in the first place. But, even so, it has a knack of being closed. We’ve now been five times, and still never got in.

The reasons are always wonderfully clichéd: a shortage of staff due to illness (can’t they provide cover?); staff on annual holidays (er – ditto – and can’t this be planned in advance...?); and, on this occasion, sudden problems with the electrics - requiring a week’s unplanned closure. Each time there has been the hurriedly prepared print-out on a piece of paper, taped over the entrance board. It’s always very nicely apologetic, though.

We should have learned our lesson by now, of course, and telephoned ahead, just to check, but I have the strange feeling that things could go wrong between putting the phone down and getting there. Perhaps they’re just shy?

Strangely, this doesn’t seem to happen to other museums in the town: the Railway Museum and Library-Museum are doggedly open as planned, and the Can Papiol Museum (another mansion) is undergoing an elaborate and very planned closure until the end of 2009. Clearly, this seems to affect certain places more than others.

However, I'm not one to give up easily, so shall write a blog as soon as I succeed in undertaking a visit. In the meantime, don't hold your breath...

A disappointing experience...

2008-09-13T20:18:00.002+01:00

This is one of those reviews which is disappointing to write: reporting a place where you've had good or - at least - perfectly acceptable experiences: and then you get ripped off.

It happened on our recent holiday to Spain, with my other half and my in-laws. The bar in question was one in a place in a long strip of cafes and restaurants of various types on the seafront of Vilanova i la Geltru, just opposite its large and busy Marina. The cafe has one of the better specs, with a large area outside in which to eat, under a spacious, brand new awning.

We'd had several drinks here and the odd sandwich at various times of day and it had always been fine. Nothing fancy, but perfectly OK. However, on this visit, they tried to rip us off. When the bill came, the prices of both beers and soft drinks had mysteriously been increased from those we had paid a few days earlier, and were more than the prices on the menus at the tables.

When we pointed this out, I thought they'd try the excuse that eating outside brings with it a higher price, as is often the custom in Mediterranean countries - fair enough, actually, so long as the prices on the menu make this clear, and their pricing policy is consistent from day to day.

But no, the waiter sheepishly just brought us another bill, this time with the right prices, as set out on the menu.

What a pity. They've just lost our custom forever, and earned themselves a bad review in the process...

(You can see the full review on Qype).

Olèrdola - 4,000 years of Catalan history

2008-09-06T18:13:00.004+01:00

The archaeological site at Olèrdola, despite the unpromising official name, is one of the most extensive in Catalonia.

Oddly overlooked by many guide-books, this imposing and strategic mountain-top site, with its stunning views over the Penedès plain, has been occupied for over 4,000 years in various guises, and was only completely abandoned in the late 19th century. The site has remains from the Bronze Age through to the 13th century, as well as a museum and interpretation centre.

Admittedly, it’s no Pompeii, as apart from the walls and a church, most of what’s here is restricted to low walls and foundations, and features cut into the limestone rock, such as hearths, silos and tombs. But it’s a fascinating amalgam of features for anyone with an interest in history and archaeology.

History

Its history is complex, but essentially it was first occupied in the Bronze Age, around 2,000 BC. From this period, a few hut walls survive, along with some pottery and tools (now in the museum). Around the 8th and 7th centuries BC, at the start of the Iron Age, the first part of the wall was built.

Between the 5th and 1st centuries BC, it was occupied by the Cessetans, one of the Iberian peoples who are regarded as Spain’s first historical culture (and who have given the peninsular its name). Their town or oppidum was extensive, and the foundations of many of their buildings, including a large leather tannery, survive.

The Romans chose the site around the 1st Century BC as a regional capital to control the Penedès plain. Of their works, 1km-long circumference wall, a huge water cistern, a quarry area, street drains and remains of a watchtower survive. The site declined once Iberia was fully conquered, and for a thousand years the site was only occupied sporadically.

Then, in the 10th Century, it once again became a strategic location as a frontier town of the County of Barcelona. Formally refounded in 929AD, it played a key role in the Christian reconquest of Catalonia from the Moors, and grew beyond the walls across the whole of the summit plateau, to encompass an area of 25 hectares. The remains of a castle, two churches, two necropolises, streets, houses and yet more walls testify to its importance. The town declined again from the 12th century and was largely abandoned by the 14th, as the frontier of Christian Spain shifted south and the inhabitants moved to the more fertile and well-watered plain below. However, the site continued to be used in times of conflict, right up until the Napoleonic Wars, and the church of St Michael – the best preserved building on the site – was in regular use until 1885.

Site tour

This takes about an hour, and involves some scrambling over rocky and uneven surfaces. Many of the buildings are identifiable only from the foundations and other features cut into the limestone rock, but these are very extensive, a testament to the thin topsoil.

Starting from the south are the remains of the Roman Watchtower and Mediaeval castle, and sections of perimeter wall, mostly from the 10th Century. In the central section is the well-preserved church of St Michael. Consecrated in 935AD and built with unusual Moorish style aches, it was rebuilt in 992 in the present Romanesque style, but destroyed by the Moors in 1108. The present church was rebuilt from the ruins and dates from this time, and has simple Romanesque features, a rare window pane made from a thin sheet of quartz, and blocked-up doorways and other elements from the earlier churches.

Around the church is the first necropolis. The graves (all now empty) are cut into the rock (due to the thin soil) and are anthropomorphic – ie shaped to fit a human body. The large number of small baby- and child-sized graves testifies to the high infant mortality rates of the period. To the east is a well preserved section of wall, and to the west is the Roman Quarry, where unfinished stone blocks are still visible.

Adjacent to this is a large bare area, the site of part of the mediaeval town, where the plans of houses can be made out from the foundation cut into the rock (and yet more silos and hearths). A long rock-cut drain leads from here, via a filter pond to the impressive swimming pool-sized Roman cistern, used to collect and store rainwater. Still functional, it has a capacity of 350,000 litres and a set of steps carved along one side, used to clean the tank as well as to collect water. Further on are the remains of a mediaeval wine press and cellar area.

Moving north-east, you come to another section of mediaeval wall and a ‘street’ with a central water-channel and steps, and the foundations of more houses all date from the 10th-12th centuries. To the north west, just before the visitor centre, is the main and most impressive section of wall, with the pre-Iberian, Roman and mediaeval levels clearly visible. Here are also the remains of the Bronze Age and Iberian settlement, including a tannery and floors in which infants were buried – their skeletons are eerily re-created in the hols in which they were found.

Beyond the visitor centre, a series of mediaeval rock-cut steps leads to a spring and a platform on which were more houses (and more cisterns). To the north, a five minute walk takes you to the extensive mediaeval settlement outside the walls, which grew up between the walls and the 10th-Century chapel of Santa Maria (now in ruins). Few remains of buildings survive, but around the chapel are about a hundred anthropomorphic tombs, many clearly of newborn babies and infants. The name of the area, the Pla de Albats, comes from the Catalan word for ‘new-born’. It's an eerie reminder of what life was really like in those times.

Practicalities

The site is accessed from the C-15 road from Vilafranca del Penedès to Vilanova i la Geltrú, just north of the town of Canyelles. The site is 2km up a steep but good road, and there is a large car-park by the Visitor centre, in front of the main wall.

The Visitor Centre houses a small museum and interpretation centre, water fountains and toilets (including accessible toilets - although much of the site is not suitable for wheelchair users). There is also a picnic area. Allow about 20 minutes for the museum and at least an hour to walk around the site.

Good footwear is advisable to clamber over the uneven surfaces and steep paths, as well as a sun hat in summer – much of the site has little shade and I can testify that you need it in 30C heat!

If you don’t have a car, there is a foot-path from St Miquel d'Olèrdola, which is a fairly strenuous 4km, 600ft climb via a footpath (one hour) or slightly less on the road (although this is unpleasantly busy for the few hundred metres on the C-15 until you turn off for the site). St Miquel d'Olèrdola is served by the roughly two-hourly bus service from Vilafranca to Vilanova, and there is a restaurant / bar there.