Hall Place and Gardens

Last Friday we visited Hall Place, once the country home of Sir John Champneys, who was a merchant and Lord Mayor of London.    A Tudor house.  It is situated on the banks of the River Cray, on the edge of the A2, a main arterial road from Dover to London.   And only 10 minutes drive from our house.   But sadly we have not visited the gardens for years, at least not since the Cafe was built. 

So we set off, after having eaten a lovely lunch, plus coffee, with our friend, Kathy, in order to visit the gardens of Hall Place.  

The front of Hall Place is very imposing.     The entrance to the building is now at the side, and the entrance costs £5 for pensioners, and if you gift aid the entrance fee, you can return as often as you like for free.    Good value.       

A view of the back of the house, from the formal rose garden, with the line of topiary Royal Beasts in the centre of the photograph.

The Royal Beasts, mythical of course, are magnificent topiary creations.

 In fact the gardens are full of topiary creations of all shapes and sizes.

 And beautiful parkland, with plenty of benches to sit and reflect on the lovely surroundings.    Unfortunately, the A2 runs behind the trees at the back of the gardens so the roar of traffic does detract from the peacefulness of the park land.   Perhaps ear muffs may be the answer.

 The River Cray tumbling over the weir.    The fence of the cafe is just visible on the right of the picture.    This cafe, which includes a visitor centre and exhibition centre, has been operating for the past five years.   A cafe steeped in the English tradition of cream teas, healthy lunches, and herbal drinks, does not have a coffee machine, so no latte, cappuccino or espresso, just cafetiere coffee, if you are really desperate.   And we were not, thank goodness, as we had just had a delicious cups of espresso coffee at Kathy's house.

Walter standing in front of the cafe, which provides a sunny terrace, that is, when the sun is shining of course.

 There is also a wild life area, for schools to use, plus vegetable and fruit gardens.   I really loved the formal lavender garden.

 And a glass house, not quite Kew Gardens, but very pleasant.    And it contained magnificent banana plants, with two or three bunches of well developed bananas on them.   The best I have seen, outside of tropical countries.

So we intend to visit the gardens again, and spend time looking around the inside of Hall Place.    An outing to look forward to.

Talpidae (Moles)

Moles.   Official name Talpidae.    They are omnivores, i.e. they eat animals and plants.  They are also a threatened species, although I cannot see this happening in England, considering the enormous number of mole hills distributed around the farms. 

Impressed?  Well I am, except we have one back in our back garden again.   Although they are a threatened species,  I could cheerfully murder the ones that live in our garden.   Not that I would do anything really drastic, mind you, except moan about them.   But I must admit that I did not feel even a little bit sorry for the previous mole that ended up as dinner for the local foxes.

But of course we have what must be equivalent to a mole castle under our back garden.   And this castle is full of luscious worms.  Mole paradise.  So after the last mole disappeared it did not take long for another mole to move in, and quickly clean out the tunnels.   And again the garden looks like a miniature version of the Battle of the Somme, without the bodies of course, but plenty of tunnels underground. On the first day I counted 26 mole hills on the grass and around the garden beds.

 So I decided to use the internet to investigate 'garden moles'.   Interestingly I did this two years ago, when I was determined to find a cure for the problems, and up popped my blog about moles.    Not very useful, I might add.  

For the information for those people, who live in mole free countries, moles are small mammals, 12 to 15 cm long, with velvety fur, and very long paws, which they use very efficiently to create long tunnels under the surface of the earth.   The hills that appear above the earth are their entrances, although another site said that their worm larders are underneath the hills.   Apparently moles have excellent smell and hearing, and can detect a worm metres away.  Their saliva contains a toxin which poisons the worms.    They are normally solitary creatures, but apparently get together each year, in early Spring, in order to create baby moles.    The babies are kicked out of the nest when only a month old.    Moles are not sociable creatures, regardless of how A.A. Milne describes Mole in 'The Wind in the Willows'.   Although Mole did spend most of his time spring cleaning, being a solitary mole, before he got sick of it, and met Ratty.   .

But back to our mole, which after two months, is definitely still in the garden, busily clearing out tunnels, and lying on its back devouring worms from our lovely garden rich in compost.    Our local fox/es who live in the woods. but use our garden to moon bathe, and as a public toilet, tried unsuccessfully to dig out our new mole.   The hill in the photo below is very trampled.    Now for those people, who think 'poor mole', it is natural for a fox to catch and eat a mole and preferable to raiding suburban rubbish bins.   This is the natural order of life in the wild, although I am sure that mole lovers would see the fox as being a predator, and destroyer, of the darling mole.

     

The moles tunnel down hill too, as can be seen by this small hill at the bottom of our steps.    We also have a hill underneath the tap, by the back wall of the house.

However, for all that I complain about the moles in the garden I do not fancy getting rid of the moles by using traps, baiting, or pouring Jeyes fluid down their tunnels.   Ugh!  Nor do I fancy digging in bottles, little windmills or pieces of rhubarb into the tunnels, which would actually make the garden look worse than the mole hills.

Apparently, according to the information I read on the internet, moles improve drainage, break down organic matter and help support a healthy top soil.   This is not evident in our garden, as the myriad of tunnels act as underground tunnels to divert the water, and compost, away from the top garden to the roadway below the house.    The tunnels also cause the plants to disappear, and to make the grass undulating when it should not be undulating.   No bowling green lawn at our house.   The soil from the hills is apparently so fine, that it can be used as potting soil for seedlings.    Not in our garden, our soil is full of stones, so if I sift it, than what do I do with the left over stones.    Build mini castle walls to keep moles away?

But one suggestion I did find useful.    Instead of stomping the hills down, thereby causing a hard circle of earth in which no grass grows, and which also does not help the undulating effect, I need to sweep the soil up, together with the stones, and put it in the compost bin.    No bare dirt patches that look like mini flying sauces have landed in the garden.

So next year I will go out each morning, with my broom and dustpan, and sweep the lawn.    Then the mole and I can live in harmony, happily together.  Forever.  

However, I can feel an obsession setting in here.   Sweeping lawns, every day.   Interesting!  

Grimaud

The mistral disappeared, the temperature dropped, it rained for two days, the family went back to the UK and we decided to spring clean the caravan.   That is after we went to IKEA to purchase some new items for the caravan.   Luckily we stayed to clean up our caravan because two of the vents leaked when it rained, so we were also able to undertake a few repairs.

Then the sun came out again, the temperature rose, and the camping ground filled up with young campers (no children) and retirees.    Adult time.   

At first we ate left overs, and then made pizzas twice (the supermarkets sell fresh pizza dough, all rolled out and ready to use).   After that we decided to lunch out for the last two days.

The first place we went to was Grimaud, in the hills above St Tropez, and no twisty roads to get there either.  We ate delicious veal stews at a busy restaurant full of people from St Tropez, and surrounding areas.

Then we climbed the hill, behind the town.   Of course it had the usual ruined castle at the top.

The view of Grimaud from the castle ruins.    The lower part of the ruins, just in front of the wall below, is used as an outdoor theatre.    Very impressive.

A rest stop, amongst the castle ruins.

The streets are very picturesque, as they are in all the hill top towns in the Cote d'Azur.

Shuttered up against the sun.   Or siesta time.   It was early afternoon, and we had the streets to ourselves.

A small square.

We also ate lunch at le Faviere, steak with pepper sauce for me, and a calamari salad for Walter.   I forgot to take photographs, but we were impressed with the restaurant, which was in the shade.

So we reluctantly said goodbye to the other campers, and drove home in glorious sunshine.   Now that we have the badge for the tolls sorted out, due to Walter finding a brochure in June and reading the instructions carefully, we sped past the long queues at the tolls and through the reserved toll booth.  

And we look forward to returning again next summer.

Ile de Porquerolles

The day dawned bright, and very, very windy.    Another mistral.  Predicted because there was a full moon.   Undeterred, Patrick, Donna, Lucy and I set out to drive to Giens (Presqu'le de Giens) so that we could catch the ferry to the Ile de Porquerolles.  We intended to hire bicycles to ride around the island.    'Mad', Walter said, 'in this wind'.     He chose not to go.    Coward! 

We boarded the ferry nervously.    The wind was blowing furiously.    The sea look extremely rough.    The boat rocked as we waited for it to leave.    Lucy definitely looks very nervous in this photograph.   My apologies, Patrick, I have cut the top of your head off.    It was the wind, you know.

Luckily it was a very fast ferry, and only took 10 minutes to get to the island.   The churned up water behind the boat was impressive.

The photo below does not reflect the high wind that was blowing, but the wind was screaming around us, and the masts of the sailing boats were moving from side to side.

We found a quiet restaurant, away from the wind, where we paid an exorbitant money for hamburgers, a salad and soft drinks.  But it was a peaceful lunch.  And we were very hungry.

We hired bicycles, at 11 Euros for half a day.    Very reasonable, we thought.    They were lovely and very easy to ride.    Mountain bikes, comfortable seats, good suspension, and smooth gears.    We then joined   hundreds of other people, also on bicycles,  to explore some of the island.    Due to the strong wind, which causes a high fire risk, all areas of national park were closed.  But there were still plenty of tracks and beaches to explore.   We even escaped from the wind at times.   And enjoyed ourselves.   A real fun activity.

A view of the sea, through the trees.

There were some brave souls, who braved the wind and were swimming in the water.   We had trouble just keeping the sand from blowing into our eyes.

At the end of the day we returned very quickly and dramatically to the mainland.   The mistral was blowing even harder now, the waves around the ferry were very high, and the ferry rolled from side to side as it ploughed through the water.   I would have loved to take some photographs but was too scared to take my bag from my back, in case it blew away.    Obviously the pilot of the boat was used to such conditions.   The other passengers did not seem too bothered either.   I drew up an emergency rescue plan in my head.

And when we got back, we found Donna's annex down and packed away and the wind attacking our annex with much force.    Walter stated that it was lucky he stayed with the caravans, otherwise we would not have had either annexes.    Thank you, Walter.

Ice creams in le Lavandou

Finally we managed to eat our dinner early enough to go into le Lavandou for ice creams.   And to watch the passing parade of people.    And they were there also doing the same thing, eating ice creams and people watching.    Or they were in the restaurants, eating dinner and people watching.   A very popular activity during the evening in le Lavandou.

First, we walked along the deserted beach.    Nearly full moon.    Such a romantic setting.  Palm trees, white sand, a calm sea and a bright moon.

Not a good night for boules apparently.

At last the ice cream shop.    Emma and Steve looking happy about their choices, which they have eaten.  Poor Walter was cut from the picture.    Sorry Walter, but I think he was happy too.

Now I am not sure about Patrick, but Donna definitely looks happy.    Perhaps Patrick made a poor choice with his ice cream.    Or else he was still trying to swallow it.

We all love the ice creams in le Lavandou, or anywhere along the coast for that matter.  

Jardins O. Riguier, Hyeres

I made a short trip to the gardens in Hyeres with Lucy, Jackson and Isabel and we were not disappointed with the activities there.    There was the usual playground of course, plus walks and plenty of birds and small animals to view.    

There were also pony rides, 2 Euros per child, which was not expensive as the walks lasted about 10 minutes.    The children thought the pony rides were fantastic, and persuaded me to let them have two rides each.   The horses were attached to each other, and walked calmly behind each other.   Although I did see Jackson's horse give Isabel's horse a little kick.    But it did not flinch or bite back.   Docile creature.

And a little train, also 2 Euros a ride.    Lucy, Jackson and Isabel clambered in, and enjoyed travelling around, ringing the bell whenever possible.

Such simple activities but plenty of enjoyment.

Mt Faron

At long last we have found out where the cable car leaves from to go up to the top of Mont Faron.   The children picked a brochure up from the office at the campsite.  So simple. It contained information about Mont Faron and the cable car.    Why did we not think of doing this!    Problem solving is best left to children, sometimes.   

We, of course, have been talking about the cable car for years, and wondering, and looking at a mountain, which we thought was Mont Faron, and talking about the wonderful views to be gained from the top.  But Mont Faron is directly behind the centre of Toulon, and the cable car is located at the top of a small hill behind the Railway Station.    And Mont Faron is also a decidedly smaller mountain than the one we were looking at.

So on a morning that looked like it could be decidedly wet, we decided to venture forth to look at Mont Faron.   Not even the flashes of lightening could deter us from our proposed outing.    'What if the cable car was hit by lightening?'    Luckily we got lost in the back streets of Toulon, so by the time we found the cable car, the thunder storm had moved on to other parts of the countryside.

We waited nervously beside the cable car.   

But the views from the top were worth it.   There is a road up to the top, but it looked very steep and twisty and we all agreed the cable car was a preferable option.

Lunch in the playground.   A little tatty.

Patrick looked delightful in his sunhat!

A beautiful collection of cycad trees.   Well I think that is what they are.   They look fairly prehistoric.

So what is there to see up at the top of Mont Faron.    Other than the views of Toulon, the sea and the surrounding hills, there are two restaurants, plenty of walks, a zoo which specialises in breeding wild animals, and a fortress.    I sat and looked at the views.   Patrick, Donna and Lucy went to look at the zoo, which they said was very good for viewing the wild animals and their babies.    Although they said that the enclosures were very small.     Walter spent time in the fortress, which contained plenty of history from Napoleon times to WW2.    During WW2 the area was the scene of a very fierce battle.

So a return up to Mont Faron will be a definite must for the future, in order to see everything that we missed this visit.

Go Kart Park

The Go Kart Park.    The place where the Euros fall from your pocket.    Easily.   But a treat for the children, and better than the smelly and overcrowded water parks.    This was a treat promised in Spring, a trip to Chessington in fact, which did not materialise, but remembered once we were all down in the south of France.   

So off Walter and I went, with Lucy, Jackson and Isabel for an afternoon at the Go Kart Park.

First a picture on the winner's stand.    No one had yet to venture onto the go karts at this point.

 Lucy in the driver's seat and Isabel giving advice from the passenger's seat.   I hope they can see out of the very small opening in those helmets.

 And Jackson looking very professional in his go kart.

 Off they go, whizzing around the track.    The last time I had a try, everyone laughed because I drove so slowly.

 After a couple of sessions on the go karts it was time to try the quad bikes.    These were a lot more difficult to drive than they looked.    Very stiff to turn the wheels apparently.   Isabel was too young, but was not keen anyway.   And I do not blame her.    My heart was in mouth just watching Lucy and Jackson.

 And off they go, too close for my liking.   But they both managed very well.

 And finally a couple of hours in the soft play area.    Lots to do there, and relatively stress free for the grown ups.

We sat in the shade.   Or rather Walter Sat on a chair and I used the lounger.   Every now and again a fine spray of water came out from the pipes over head to cool us off.   This was to keep the parents, or grandparents, happy, I think.

Interestingly there were mostly grandparents with grandchildren at the park.    Spoiling their grandchildren, like us.    No doubt, they like us, could never afford to take their children to such places!

Plage de Pampelonne

After looking around Ramatuelle, it was still only 1.30 p.m. so Patrick, Donna, Walter and I decided to drive to the beaches of St Tropez.   Emma and Steve took Jackson, Isabel and Lucy back to the campsite via the straighter road, in order to swim in the pool and recover from the trip.   I might add that there was a mistral blowing, which did not help whatsoever.

We drove along the road, which had signs to the beach, but the carparks or approaches to the beaches were full of cars.   No free car parking in this area either.  Suddenly we spotted a carpark, which was only half full of cars.   So we paid our 4 Euros and drove in, and what was more there were shaded covers over the carparks.   Brilliant.  Luxury. And only 4 Euros for the afternoon.

And the surrounding buildings were flash too.    Even a nightclub.    And the view out to sea was impressive with all the large boats moored.   This was St Tropez after all.   And I was eager to take photographs for my blog, so started snapping immediately.

But what was this?   Shock caused my camera to drop as I was taking a photograph.    Patrick had just informed us that the people on the beach did not have clothes on.     Not only were the women topless but everyone was bottomless too.    All the people were lying or sitting around getting their bits well and truly burnt in the sunshine and hot wind.   The sign above us stated that the beach was for 'naturalists'.  And we were fully clothed!   The legs in this photograph tell all!

So what to do?   We had paid for our car park.   We were not inclined to strip off and join the sun seekers of course.    Not our scene.   But we spotted the bar, where people were expected to wear clothes, thank goodness.   So we sat and drank a few cold drinks, just to recover of course.

I was impressed with the night club, very glamorous but I presume it was a clothes on only club!    We did not wait to find out.

A discreet photograph of a beautiful beach.  

 We did learn much about men standing on the highest part of the sand, before it sloped down to the water.    What posers!

And there were no signs at the entrance of the car park, nor out on the road, to give an indication that it was a beach for naturalists.    We live and learn!    And we learnt a lot at this beach!