Rainy Day Excursion

We thought we would drive around the south east coast of Kent, even though the grey clouds were gathering in the sky.   Weather prediction?  Rain of course, but then it may not get as far as the south east coast.   Always hopeful.

The A2/M2 was free of heavy traffic.   Good start to the trip.    We turned off the highway and headed for Whitstable, always interesting to drive through slowly.   No stopping though, destination was Margate, for fish and chips from a very good shop by the waterfront.   Well the fish and chips were excellent the last time we were there, about eight years ago.   

Our tummies were rumbling by the time we arrived in Herne Bay, which was deserted.   'Why?' we wondered.   We even managed to get a carpark opposite the fish and chip shop.   Moira loved the Victorian buildings lining the foreshore.  'So English!' she exclaimed.   This was the obvious place to stop for lunch, a lovely seaside town.

But why were there no people?   All due to the weather, apparently. The people in the fish and chip shop looked glum.    We sympathised, collected our boxes of fish and chips, and off we walked to a shelter.   We could have eaten in the restaurant, but we were intent on eating our fish and chips by the sea side.   Luckily we decided not to sit on the sand, or on a park bench.

No sooner had we opened our boxes, when the clouds also opened, and down came the rain.  Even the street lights came on.

The verdict on the fish and chips?  Definitely a bit soggy, and not from the rain either, but at least they were freshly cooked in good oil.   Eating soggy fish and chips in the rain.  Very English we thought.

My new walking shoes, getting a thorough soaking from the rain.   They were not waterproof shoes, it would appear.

Walter feeling very pleased with his new waterproof walking shoes.  Pity about the trousers though.

What wet and dismal weather.   Obviously all the people who were not there, knew it was going to rain heavily.

After lunch we walked quickly to the cafe, one umbrella and one raincoat between the three of us, where we drank very welcome cups of coffee, inside the building of course.

No one sitting outside.   I wonder why.

It was great to get back into the car, and turn the heater on, in order to dry our legs and feet.   Then off towards Margate, in torrential rain.  

We did not stop in Margate, once the ultimate in holiday destinations before cheap airfares took away the patrons to warmer climates.   Margate was now a run down and depressing town..   I hope the revamped fun park brings a bit of life into the town.   The new art gallery looked impressive.   Too wet to stop and have a look at it.

Then suddenly the rain stopped, just as we arrived at the start of the beaches, seven bays altogether, Botany Bay, Kingsgate Bay, Joss Bay, Stone Bay, Viking Bay, Louisa Bay, Dumpton Gap.

Unfortunately, now that ten days have lapsed, I cannot remember the names of the beaches in two of the photographs below.

But the coastline was certainly beautiful, with white cliffs and sandy beaches.

A remarkable building at the end of the beach, with very strong ramparts to stop the ocean from reclaiming the land and the building above.

I think this was Joss Bay, very popular for school trips.

Now this was definitely the town of Broadstairs, with Viking Bay lapping its shores.  Apparently Hengist and Horsa landed here in 449AD.   The bay was named following the 1500th anniversary of the their landing.

There were a few people on the beach, and in the water.  After all it was summertime.

As the sun was now struggling to shine through the clouds, and there appeared to be a carnival in progress along the prominade, we decided to find a carpark and spend an hour having a look at the festivities.

A glimpse through the wrought iron gates, at a beautiful building, the Grand Mansions, originally The Grand Hotel, built in 1882.

It was Broadstairs Folk Week, with plenty of Morris dancers around.   It was amazing to learn how many different forms of Morris dancing there were, depending on which part of England the dancers came from, plus a few historial influences.   The dances where the men blackened their faces and wore beards, originated from country areas that banned their workers from taking part in Morris dancing.   The dancers then tried to hide their identity.   Costumes appear to be varied, depending again on the area in England, I guess.

I must explain Morris dancing, for the benefit of people who do not live in England, and who are a bit mystified by people, men usually, prancing around with bells on their legs.   We thought it was all a bit strange when we first saw Morris dancing.

I have used my hopefully reliable Wikipedia source, who state that 'Morris dance is a form of English folk dance usually accompanied by music.  It is based on rhythmic stepping and the execution of choreographed figures by a group of dancers, usually wearing bell pads on their shins.  Implements such as sticks, swords and handkerchiefs may also be wielded by the dancers'.  Morris dancing has been recorded in writing as early as 1448.  

I loved watching these two men dance, as they gave each other encouragement, and insults.   I am still not sure of the women's role in the dances, other than as musicians or supporters.

The weather by now was really warm, and many people were enjoying sitting outside drinking coffee or beer, while listening to a folk band.

Walter posing outside Dickens House Museum, once the house of Mary Pearson Strong, upon whom Charles Dickens based the character of Betsy Trotwood in David Copperfield.

Finally, our last look at a group of Morris Dancers, who took centre stage in the Victoria Gardens.  They were particularly good.

We then set off towards home, about an hours drive away, in gloriously sunny weather.   The memory of eating fish and chips in the rain, now a distant memory.

Busy Days

Life has been busy here, very enjoyable, but busy.   No time to write blogs.    

Last week, Moira visited, and then Isabel came, together with the dogs, Bobbi and Jezzie, and the lizard, Jeff.   Great times.   We loved it.

A visit to Chartwell, with Moira, on a beautiful sunny day.   Unfortunately we could not visit the house, all timed visits were booked for the day.

 But, we were not disappointed.   It was such a beautiful day for wandering around the lovely gardens.

Moira and me, looking happy, and colour co-ordinated.

 After a drive around the Weald in Kent, we stopped at the village of Chiddingstone, always a picturesque place, with lovely memories of great lunches and walks in the area.

The entrance to the church.

It was very difficult to take a photograph, without a car getting in the way.  

 Another day out, last Saturday.   This time it was into London for a walk along the South Bank, from London Bridge Station to Charing Cross Station.   Another beautiful sunny day, and the normally quiet area was teeming with people, out for lunch, or just enjoying the area, as they walked along the pedestrianised paths and roads.  

The Shard, rising above the buildings.

 Hays Galleria, a very remarkable place, with a metal and glass roof connecting the two buildings.  Many years ago these buildings would have been storage buildings for the wharf at the front.

 Isabel enjoyed playing with the jets of water, in the fountain.  Luckily she managed to avoid getting wet.

 Pig on the spit, dead of course, at Borough Market.   Normally when we walk through the market during the week there are only a few stalls, and hardly any people.   On Saturday, on market day, it was packed with stalls and people.   So much so, it was difficult to walk through.

Our packed lunch, sandwiches and fruit, eaten in the sunshine.

 We went past many significant places, including the replica of the Golden Hind and the Globe, plus many regenerated areas, some new buildings and some restored buildings.  And afternoon tea in the Tate Gallery.   All very fascinating.

This was the first time I had noticed the old railway bridge bases in the river.   Always something new to discover.

 The skateboarding area, with amazing graffiti on the walls.

 Finally, Charing Cross Station.  And home.

 This weekend we are now on our own, and time to lie on my new lounger, in the shade, reading a book.   Practising for the south of France.

At the beach in Wales

It was not all about cold and wet weather, during our week in Wales.   Luckily we also had a few days of warm and sunny weather too.   Although most mornings did start off cloudy and misty.   Mountain weather, on a west coast.

The first beach, slightly to the south of Llanbedr, was covered with yellow sand, and very wide, when the tide was out.   No stoney beach here.  Also lovely and clean.   And quite deserted too.

Some of us braved the water, Steve, Emma, Jackson, Isabel, Mia, Abi and me.   It took a while for Emma and me to get completely wet, I must admit, but once in, it was really lovely.   A trifle cold, but not unpleasant.   Aaron and Raphy managed to get wet up to their ankles.   Raphy is not a lover of cold water.  Walter and Kylie sat on the dry sand, well away from the water.

Jackson now has a body board, and everyone had great fun trying to ride the waves, getting into practice for a visit to Australia, I think.

Isabel, Mia and Abi, all ready to tackle the waves, and cold water.

Our next two beach visits were to Shell Island, on the Morfa Dyffryn beach.   Shell Island, also called Mochras Llanbedr, was formed after the River Artro was diverted by the Earl of Winchelsey in 1819.   Access to the island was over a causeway, which flooded when the tide was in, so it was important to plan a visit, otherwise you had to wait for a couple of hours for the tide to turn before returning back to Llanbedr.

Shell Island was so named as there was a line of rocks on the sea side of the island, and when the tide came in, it deposited shells, of many varieties behind the rocks.   A shell collectors paradise.

Shell Island was also a 'free camping' site for tents and motorhomes.   No caravans allowed as it was not registered for caravans.    However the only free part of the site was that you could camp anywhere, no set camping sites, as long as you were no closer than 20 metres to another camper.   The island was very large so plenty of room for people who were keen to camp there. 

But not a cheap place to camp in, at £7.50 per night per adult, and £3.00 per night per child, and £2 per dog per night.   There were reductions for a weekly stay.  Amazingly, considering the high price, the facilities were terrible, a few portacabins scattered around, plus a grubby looking permanent building at the front.   I noticed that there was a bar, restaurant, and plenty of little shops, all ready to take your money.  It also cost £7.50 to drive onto the island, and park at the top of the sandhills. 

There were lots of people on the beach and it was great to have people around when swimming in the water.   However, the downside was the large amount of litter lying in the dry sand, and in the sandhills behind the beach.   The beach was privately run, as was the camping ground.  They put a couple of small bins in place, and someone came along on a tractor and emptied them, but no effort was made to collect the rest of the rubbish, or groom the dry sand.   

However, the sandhills were a great hit with our grandchildren, and they loved climbing them, and sliding back down again.  A real luxury as most dunes are fenced off, in order to protect them.

Perfect waves for surfing, body board style.  Raphy standing on the beach, well back from those cold wet waves.

There was another beautiful beach close by, in Harlech, but we did not have time to visit it.  Wales certainly has a magnificant coastline.

Castles in Snowdonia

There was much history about the following two castles, Caernarfon Castle and Harlech Castle, but too much to write about in this blog.   

Caenarfon Castle.   The first fortifications were built on the site by the Romans.   After that the Princes of Wales generally kept their distance from England.  After 1066 the Kings of England were keen to expand their lands and had limited success in taking over small areas of Wales.  

In 1282, it all changed, and war broke out between England and Wales, and in1283 King Edward I was victorious against Dafydd ap Gruffydd, Prince of Wales (1238-1283), the independent ruler of Wales.   He was finally executed by Edward I.

Edward I then set about building castles, in Caenarfon, in Harlech and in five other locations.   Caenarfon Castle was finished in 1330.   Many of the interior buildings were never finished, and many never survived the centuries that followed.   However the outer castle walls were still mostly complete.   A very grand and imposing structure.

There was a short film about the castle.   The circular screen was very impressive.   I loved the patterns.

The view over the square in Caenarfon.

Looking through the narrow walkways.

There was a Royal Welch Fusiliers Museum situated in the castle, which told the story of 300 years of service by Wales' oldest infantry regiment, in peacetime and in war, all over the world.

The tradition of the regiment, was to have a goat, always called Billy, which was a member of the regiment, and never a mascot.

Mia liked the dress up clothes, and Isabel liked the activities.   Great salute from Mia.

We sat in the square afterwards and drank coffee (adults) and ate ice creams (adults and children).   Aaron went to another shop and bought the best ice cream, which we all admired.   Our icecreams were very ordinary, as was the coffee.   It pays to look around before purchasing.

A great view of the castle.

A view of Harlech Castle on a beautiful sunny day.

But on the day that Walter and I visited Harlech Castle, there was a gale blowing, as can be seen by our windswept hair in this 'selfie' photo.

The shell of Harlech Castle, a World Heritage Site,   There was a magnificent Visitors' Centre, nearly completed, which will tell the story of the castle, in comfort, rather than in the draughty room within the castle walls.   The new bridge that crossed the old moat will also be sturdy.   We had to cross a rickety temporary bridge, which on a windy day, was a little scary, to say the least.

At first glance this doorway in the photograph below appeared to drop away to the ground far below, but in fact it was only a few steps down.  Very deceiving.

A housing development, and road, below the cliffs.   When the castle was built in the 13th century, the sea came to the edge of the cliff, on which was the castle was built.   Now there were dunes and farmland, plus the houses and road between the castle and the sea.

The many indentations in the tower walls, where once there would have been floors and doorways.

And afterwards a well deserved ice cream, locally made, and delicious.   Except that it was very windy and cold outside.

Castles, always interesting places to visit.