I’ve often wondered why St. Andrew should have been adopted as the Patron Saint of Scotland. Like our St. George, there’s no record of him ever visiting the country he’s Patron Saint of, and both countries have plenty of ‘home-grown’ saints of their own.
However, the fact remains that he is the Patron Saint, and his Day is on the 30th November, and, since 1996, it’s been celebrated by allowing free admission to Edinburgh Castle on the day.
This year, they’re extending the free admission privilege to three days, the 28th, 29th and 30th November and, in addition, free admission is being offered on the 28th and 29th at 47 sites controlled by Historic Scotland right across the country.
When I said I was going to Carcassonne, I wasn’t quite accurate. In actual fact, we were staying near the town of Pexioria, which is about 25 kilometres to the west. The Domaine St. Raymond, which is where many different kinds of programmes take place under the banner of the ‘French House Party’.
I was there to see launch of the ‘Cuisine in Brief’ course, which is one of a series of courses grouped together under the title of the ‘Gastro Academy’. But, more about them later; I just want to describe the surrounding at first.
We’re in a valley, where the River Garonne flows westward, between the Pyrenees and the Midi Pyrenees and the Canal du Midi joins it to the Mediterranean. The valley floor is flat and fruitful, with the fields broken up by trees, which frequently are the upward pointing fingers of Lombardy Poplar, giving it the atmosphere of an Impressionist painting. The church spires which are peculiar to the area heighten the effect.
Domaine St Raymond is a 200 year old farmhouse, which has been tastefully renovated in a pleasing art-deco style; the whole thing making for a really relaxing atmosphere. But, they kept the open fire, and, every morning, I was greeted with the nostalgic aroma of woodsmoke from last night’s fire.
The only thing not so great was the weather, but I wasn’t expecting great things in November, anyway. It did remind me, though, of the advice often given to viewers of houses:
‘If you like it in Winter, you’ll love it in Summer’
But, don’t just take my word for it; have a look at my pictures.
I will get around to the cooking side of it eventually … but, if you can’t wait, go and see what they’re about at
Back home again, & just tidying things up. Off to the World Travel Market tomorrow … I’ll deal with any outstanding replies when I get back from that. Can’t wait to start posting about all that delicious French food!
Lunchtime in Salisbury, and we were feeling peckish, and felt like something different. Recently, they opened a tapas bar in the Market Square, and I thought I’d introduce Lorraine to the Spanish custom.
These are tapas proper, which you pay for, and shouldn’t be confused with the free nibble you’re served with your drink in many parts of Spain; properly, this is called an aperitivo.I was mildly disappointed that they didn’t have my beloved croquetas de jamòn on offer. They did, however, have cod croquettes … but, we didn’t have them. Instead, we ordered albondigas (meatballs in a herby tomato sauce) and pollo al ajillo con limon (Chicken with garlic and lemon … I now know the Spanish word for ‘garlic’)
What impressed me was that they didn’t try to be too Spanish. There was a refreshing lack of what I call ‘Spanish kitsch’ … bullfight posters and straw donkeys. Another difference is the tapas aren’t on display on the bar; in Spain, ‘Quisera éste’ and a pointing finger can get you a long way! Unfortunately, the waitress explained, such displays are forbidden in Britain.
I liked the friendly, welcoming atmosphere … and the tapas and beer. There’s seating outside for when the weather’s right … it wasn’t today! If there’s one thing that put me off slightly, it’s the acid yellow/green of the outside décor. A little out of place in Salisbury’s Market Square, and not particularly Spanish; at least, not for any part of Spain that I’ve visited. But, it doesn’t take anything away from what’s inside.
I thought of the ornate tilework outside La Carihuela in Madrid. However, that would probably be prohibitively expensive … if they could get it by the ‘City Fathers’.
If you wanted to be really pedantic, you could say there’s only one lake in England’s Lake District. That’s Bassenthwaite Lake. All the others have the words ‘–water’ or
‘–mere’ incorporated into their names, thereby making the addition of ‘Lake’ a tautology.
In actual fact, it’s generally accepted there are sixteen; Elterwater and Brotherswater seem to take it in turns to occupy the No. 16 slot, with the loser slipping out of the league tables entirely.
Three of the bigger lak … I mean, bodies of water … have pleasure cruises on them. Usually, they’re called the Lake Steamers, although only one of them, Coniston Water’s Gondola, is actually powered by steam. But, the Tern on Windermere, and Raven and Lady of the Lake on Ullswater once were … and all three are well over 100 years old, but with their ‘new’ diesel engines, are still giving sterling service.
At some stage, there’s been a boat named Lady of the Lake on all three lakes; the Victorians loved their Sir Walter Scott. Not the same boat, of course, although the old lady on Ullswater was built in 1877, and is believed to be the oldest working passenger vessel in the world. The only alteration, apart from her diesel engine is that there is now an enclosed wheelhouse. When she was built, the helmsman stood exposed to the elements.
The poet William Wordsworth once said that the best way to behold the Lake District’s mountains was to view them from one of the lakes. But, the lake itself is worthy of consideration, especially if the cloud is down, and you can’t see the mountains.
We sailed on Ullswater on the Raven, 120 years old this year, and looking like she just left the boatyard; like all four boats, painted green and with immaculately varnished woodwork. ‘It is questionable if there be any boat to beat, or even equal this little craft on any lake in this country’. said a contemporary newspaper report, shortly after its launch.
The boats leave Glenridding, at the southern end of the lake, and sail to Pooley Bridge at the northern, calling at Howtown, on the east bank, on the way. You don’t have to go the whole way, though. You could take the steamer part of the way, and combine it with a pleasant lakeside walk.
The operators claim the steamers are an excellent way to ‘explore England’s most beautiful lake’. I’d disagree with that, but only slightly. But then, I’m biased; I’m from Windermere!
It’s been a while coming, but it’s here at last. However, The Turning of the Leaves doesn’t seem to be quite as vibrant or spectacular as last year. Maybe we didn’t quite get quite the right combination of sunshine, rain and frost; maybe it’s just that lately, it’s been rather overcast, although the sun does pop out from time to time, to give us shots such as this.
The Meteorological Office did promise us a ‘barbecue Autumn’ … presumably to make up for the ‘barbecue Summer’ they promised us, which didn’t really materialise. They did say, though, they got the temperatures right; it’s just that there was more rain than they expected.
Mr. Weather Man, I have news for you! Firstly, the barbecue got put away for the Winter two weeks ago, and secondly, after the Summer we just had, few people would believe you implicitly if you said it was going to get dark tonight.
In exactly a week’s time, I’m off to France, and hoping there’s some good colour around Carcassonne … and that the leaves stayed on!
I wonder who thinks of names for roads and streets?
I don’t mean the old ones. They’re usually the names people bestowed on them by convention. We do occasionally give a thought to their origin, although it was often just a casual one. For instance, when I lived in ‘Dawson’s Barn Road’, I did sometimes wonder who Mr. Dawson was, and where his barn was, but I made no serious attempt to find out.
My nephew did once say that he wished he could take his address with him, as well as his telephone number, when he moved from the charmingly-named Pickles Field Lane to the more prosaic Firs Road. The thing is, the houses haven’t been there all that long, and never, as far back as anyone can remember, have there ever been fir trees there.
So, if someone’s building a new estate, whence come the names? The builders? More probably the Council … and, if that’s the case, does one person decide, or do they form a Committee?
(As an aside, I think of the story of how ‘Two Dogs’ alcoholic lemonade got its name … which I shan’t repeat here!)
Since I moved here, several new estates have sprung up in our area, and someone, because of the proximity of the airfield at nearby Boscombe Down, decided to name the streets of one of them after military aircraft. But, they picked the wrong aircraft! I mean, I wouldn’t like to buy Plot 169, for instance, and find they’d suddenly named the street it stood in Tempest Road!
Anyway, I was in the RAF for 36 years, and had my fill of living in streets named after obsolete aircraft, disused airfields and dead Air Marshals.
But, this one really takes the cake! Maybe it’d be right for an old-fashioned village street, but an estate that’s newer than my car is? What, or who does this commemorate? What does it mean? And, who the hell thought of it?
Publius Aelius Hadrianus certainly got around. He was better known to us as the Roman Emperor Hadrian, and he left his mark all over the old Roman Empire. We’ve seen two Hadrian’s Gates, one in Athens and one in Jerash, Jordan as well as Hadrian’s Temple in Ephesus, Turkey. But, probably the most famous thing that bears his name is Hadrian’s Wall.
Hadrian’s Wall stretches from England’s west coast, at Bowness on Solway, near Carlisle to the east coast, at the appropriately-named Wallsend, near Newcastle. Unlike Queen Victoria, who never saw most of the places named after her, Hadrian did actually visit Britain; he visited most places in the Roman Empire, both as Emperor and in his ‘previous existence’ as a soldier. He simply said ‘Let there be a Wall’, went back to Rome, and left the Roman governor, one Julius Agricola, to get on with it.
Received wisdom says the wall was built for defensive purposes, to keep the Pictish and Scottish hordes out … that’s what we were taught in school. But, someone pointed out that the ‘vallum’, or ditch is on the wrong side of the wall for that. I did once whimsically think it was the result of the Roman equivalent of ‘I say, Sergeant Major! Can’t you find these men something to do?’ I was extremely surprised to find that other, far more scholarly, authorities agreed with me. It was suggested that it did indeed keep the army occupied during a period of relative quiet.
Or, it could have been that the wall simply marked the boundary of the Roman Empire, and served the secondary purpose of discouraging small-scale invasions and incursions. Other such walls are known to have been built in eastern Europe, although they were built of wood. Hadrian’s Wall was a stone wall, because of the shortage of suitable timber.
Over the years, generations of farmers and builders simply used it as a quarry for ready-dressed stone, but, in places, it does remain. Our visitors had been dissatisfied with a previous visit to the wall. They’d been shown a rather insignificant stretch of it, in a not very pleasant surrounding. We took them to what are probably the best viewpoints, the old fort at Housesteads, high on a lonely moor and another fort, just outside a farmhouse at Birdoswald.
There are, however, many more places. Maybe an excuse for anther visit?
I didn’t make any video … my reasons being the wall is immobile; it’s been there for nearly 2000 years, and isn’t going anywhere any time soon. It was only after I got home I realised I could have blended it in with some unused footage of the Roman re-enactors! Still, that’s another excuse for a return visit.
When I fly to France next month, I’m only going for a long weekend, so I’m only taking hand baggage. The only problem with this is any liquid you take is restricted to 100 ml. Mainly, this causes problems with toiletries. Although I don’t carry around a trayful of ‘smellies’, I still need toothpaste and shaving cream … which I haven’t been able to find in hand-baggage–friendly sizes where I shop.
Here’s how I get around it:
Toothpaste: I don’t think they make those solid cakes of ‘dentifrice’ any more; you can still get ‘Eucryl’ tooth powder, but I don’t like it. However, most dentists have toothpastes in sample sizes they’ll give you.
Shaving Cream: Really, Gillette or Wilkinson should offer their gel or foam in small containers. Again, you can buy a solid shaving stick. You’ll need a brush, but I still have my uncle’s old Army shaving brush … somewhere!
Other options are grow a beard (out of court), have a sex change (DEFINITELY out of court) or buy an electric razor. Again, I don’t like them … although I used to keep one in my desk drawer, in case I went somewhere important in the late afternoon, and needed to freshen up.
I don’t think I’ll be needing sunblock on this trip.
Best choice is to stay at the right kind of hotel … suddenly, ‘seeing off’ the toiletries, whether you need them or not, doesn’t seem quite so sad!
