Dartford

Over a week ago, the men, i.e. Walter, Steve, Scott, Aaron, Patrick, plus Patrick's friends, went to Dusseldorf, Germany, to celebrate Patrick's forthcoming marriage to Donna.    A bucks weekend.   Although I believe there were some in the party that consumed too much of the brown liquid on the Friday, and suffered the next day,  most of the time was spent being tourists, discovering Dusseldorf.    That is what they told us, anyway.  

Luckily for them the weather was brilliant, sunny and very warm, so they were able to spend quite a lot of time sitting in cafes and watching the barges go past on the Rhine River, visiting a fair ground on the Sunday, and then watching it being dismantled on the Monday (very interesting with all the large machinery), visiting the museum, walking and admiring the longest bar in the world.   The longest bar is actually a series of windows in buildings along the Rhine, where local beer is served and consumed at the tables which are set up along on the pavement.    Our men seemed to know a lot about the longest bar.   They all had a great time though and came back very happy.   

We had a relaxing few days on our own, all the girls, Donna, Lucy, Emma, Isabel plus our one male, Jackson.    Jackson did point out on a number of occasions that he was the only male in the family that did not go to Dusseldorf.   What can you say to a 10 year old! 

As well as lots of coffee, a few wines, plenty of talking, and a short session of nail painting, we ventured out on the Saturday to visit Dartford in order to do a little shopping as well as spend time in Dartford Park, mostly the playground.    I know Dartford is not the most glamorous of places but it actually was quite a pleasant afternoon.

The park was buzzing with music, and activities, courtesy of the local churches.

The trio posing on, and under, the small bridge in the park.

A brilliant flower display.

Bright and cheerful colours.

The bandstand.    Unfortunately this photograph was taken at the end, when the band members were packing up so of course people had already left the grass.

I hear that Dartford has been given a regeneration grant, which should go a long way to brighten the shopping area up, and perhaps bring the shoppers back again.  

London 2012

On Thursday we visited London.  But there was no time to write a blog when we got home, shattered, having walked from Highbury-Islington to Victoria Station.  

Since then I have since watched the Opening Ceremony .  A ceremony that captured the heart of Great Britain.   All very low key, but very clever and portrayed the country brilliantly.    It may not have meant much to some countries, unfortunately, but subtlety was the order of the day, and therefore very British.    Even the portrayal of Great Ormond Hospital and the NHS, which may have been a bit over the top for people here, captured an aspect of the country which many other Nations envy.   Where else in the world can one get free medical care, of such high quality..   In future please watch what you say about the NHS, Mr Cameron.

But back to Thursday, the day that Walter and I decided to go into London and have a look at the crowds, see the torch being carried, and capture some of the atmosphere.    

First we caught a train from St Mary's Cray, after 9.30 a.m., with free parking, down the bottom of the hill.   As pensioners we need to watch our pennies.   We carried our packed lunch in our free National Trust cooler bag.    

And the train we caught went further than Blackfriars, once the end stop for all trains.    We were able to go as far as St Pancras.  And this gave us a chance to have a look at the beautiful station, which has been renovated and enlarged into the glorious building that it is today.    The torch had actually passed through here a few hours earlier. but the station was still buzzing, mostly with people leaving London.   I wonder why?

Then onto Highbury-Islington via the tube.    The station has had a small makeover, badly needed, but still fairly grimy.  Highbury Corner, once so well known to us, due to Donna working for Islington Council, and Aaron and Kylie living in Islington, has not changed at all.

We found Upper Street, no problems there, and walked along it, to meet Donna at Islington Town Hall.    A very posh looking establishment from the front, but a maze of tunnels and small rooms once inside the building.  The torch had also been there early in the morning.    Donna had acted as senior steward at Roseberry Avenue, too early for us.    She told us all about it though.   Very exciting.

Upper Street, still a relatively quiet street, due to the congestion charges further up the street.    Memories, memories, memories of visiting cafes and restaurants along this street. At a time when we could drive into Islington easily, through the rougher areas of Hackney of course, and park in Upper Street. The photograph below, of Upper Street, almost reminds me of the setting for a country town, with its little boutique shops and shady trees.    And little traffic.

After a lovely packed lunch, eaten in a shady park, with Donna, we continued along Upper Street, intending to catch the tube from The Angel to Charing Cross.   But at this point we were carried away by the scenery, the idea of re-discovering parts of London we had not visited for a long time, and the beautiful weather.   So after a cup of strong coffee we set forth, as tourists, to re-discover this part of London.    The object of the visit, to see the torch, was quite forgotten at this point.   Even the red London bus doing pressups did not deter us from our new objective, to walk to Trafalgar Square.

So on we walked, always keeping to the shady side of the streets, it being a hot day, down Upper Street, then into Roseberry Avenue, passing all the outdoor eateries and hundreds of office workers enjoying their lunch break.    So far removed from the current economic problems, but then these people all have jobs.  They all looked successful and happy too. We crossed over Farringdon Road.    More memories of driving around this part of town to visit Aaron and Kylie when they lived in Camden.   So easy then to drive around London, 16 years ago.

Suddenly we spotted Gray's Inn Gardens, open from 12 until 2.30 p.m. for the office workers to enjoy their lunch in the sunshine, or in the rain, which is most often the case.   So in we went.

And we were transported back in time, in our imagination, that is.    The setting, the reign of Henry VIII.   The lawyer, Master Shardlake, with an affliction (bent back), who lived and worked around Gray's Inn,  solving rather horrific crimes.   He also rode his trusty horse in Chancery lane and visited and investigated not such honest people in Lincoln's Inn.   Fiction of course.    At this point in time, I cannot remember the name of the books or the author.    My apologies.      

Of course the next place to visit was Lincoln's Inn, open as well during lunchtimes.

Such historic buildings.    Such impressive names, written on the brass plates inside each door.

And we were free to roam around the buildings and sit in the gardens.   Such luxury.

The chapel, which was also open, built in the 1600's to replace the old chapel which was too small, still conforms to certain rules and regulations, about who sits where.

The undercroft of the chapel.   Impressive.

And finally we passed by the Royal Courts of Justice,

and found a bench to sit on, in the shade.  

The Temple Church, photographed below, was built by the Knights Templar, the soldier-monks who protected pilgrims to the Holy Land during the Crusades.    This church was modelled on the circular church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, the site of Christ's death, burial and resurrection.    In 1608 King James 1 granted the whole area of 'The Temple' to the two societies of lawyers, who maintain the church today.

Finally we reached the embankment, and what a tremendous view of Big Ben, Parliament House and the London Eye.   But what is also there?  A new addition!  Some awful looking whizzy ride on the left side of the London Eye.    And of course the Thames River in front.    This view always makes me draw my breathe in, yes I really am in London, and I am standing on the banks of the Thames River.  

Whilst walking through the street beside Charing Cross Station, we saw people with ice creams in their hands.  Where did they get those from?    McDonalds of course.    No history here, but air conditioning and cheap flavoured soft serves.   £1 each.   Good value.   Full of additives I know but on a hot day, after a long walk, they tasted like nectar.

Finally we arrived at Trafalgar Square.    The torch was due to go through here at 5.40 p.m. and it was only 3.30 p.m.   We tried to stand in the sunshine, but it was just too hot.   Should we go home?   No, not an option at this point. A life saver.   The art gallery.   Just in front of us. We have not been there for years.    So off we went for two hours of cultural enhancement, and we were impressed, certainly the collection of paintings we saw were as good as, if not better, than the similar collection in the Louvre, Paris.   The building was also airconditioned, and had comfortable chairs, from which to view the paintings.  And have a little snooze.

Of course I posed in front of the count down clock to the opening of the Olympics, together with the man on the left.  I hoped he liked me being in his picture.

The crowds had multiplied by the time we came out of the art gallery, so my view of the torch and bearer as he came down the steps in front of the art gallery was very limited.  I had a great view of all the cameras though.   But the atmosphere was electric.

So we decided to walk to Victoria Station, via Whitehall, Parliament Square and Victoria Street.   But forgot that was the way the torch bearers were also heading.    So we joined the throngs of people and the cyclists and followed behind, not knowing really what was going on.   But that was okay, as long as we watched out for the cyclists, who seemed to be intent on knocking people over.  We did see William Hague, the Foreign Minister, looking out over one of the balconies in the Foreign Office.   I hoped he enjoyed it all.

The police, and the armed forces, were there to keep us all safe, mainly from the cyclists I think.

Parliament Square.   We, and most other people, were in a state of confusion by this stage.   The cyclists in the photograph below just wanted to get home, so argued with the police.  The cyclists were trying to cycle the wrong way down a one way street, the police were having none of that.

And a sprint across the lawn in front of Parliament House, followed by a scramble over to a wall, meant we finally had a fantastic view of the torch bearers, right at the 'Kissing Point', the change over of torch bearers.   In this case it was given by a grey haired, bearded man to the U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon.   

Cheers and more cameras.  

So home we went, very happy.     A full and very interesting day.  

Sunny days

Here we are, in sunny England.    And it is hot, with temperatures high into the 20's, which feels more like 35 degrees in London.    Not quite a heatwave, but definitely holiday weather.   And what is more, the children are on holiday, and those who have not disappeared to hotter climates are enjoying the long awaited sunshine..  

We are even wearing our summer clothes, at long last, which luckily have not faded, due to hanging in dark wardrobes or folded up in drawers for so long.   We can sit outside and sip our coffee, or linger over a lovely glass of wine,  or a very cold beer.    We could even get out our Australian stubby holders, but unfortunately they are in the caravan, down in the south of France, because we foolishly thought in June they would not be needed in the UK this summer.

And now I finally have the opportunity to sit in the garden, with a book in one hand, and a glass of sparkling water  in the other hand.   No, I have not given up alcohol or coffee, but I have become sensible.  I am a pensioner now.  Too much alcohol or coffee makes the head spin and the heart palpitate in hot weather.  

The garden is looking magnificent, due to the over supply of water falling from the sky, for months and months.   And just enough warmth, in between the days of rain, to make the plants and trees grow.   Everything is so lush.  Even the weeds look good.  I am also tolerating the slugs and snails as there is so much to eat, they do not seem to be decimating individual plants.   And need I say, we are currently mole free, so the grass also looks lush.

The first job when I returned from Holland was to pick the rhubarb, so have enough in the freezer now for quite a few rhubarb crumbles during the winter.   Just when we need something to combat winter depression.       And the hot summer days of late July (and maybe August too) are well past.

Cabbages, nearly there.   I must make sure that I do not include the slugs in our meal.   They are feasting well on the outer leaves.

The roses love the wet weather.   This is the first time they have bloomed so profusely and the rambling roses are actually climbing over the arches now.   What a growth spurt this year.

Green, green and more green.

The fruit and vegetable patch.   So lush.

Even the straggling ornamental grasses have made a comeback, and actually look like the pictures that were on the labels when I bought them.

And I must not forget, it was Scott's 18th birthday on the 2nd July, nearly a month ago now.    A very special birthday for a lovely grandson.    It seems like he was born only yesterday.    Just where does the time go to, and now we have this handsome grandson who is about to go out into the world.    All the best, Scott.    I know you will be a success.

National Park De Biesbosch

The National Park De Biesbosch is situated in the bottom south eastern corner of Holland, not far from Rotterdam and Dordrecht.   It covers 9000 hectares, and is a green maze of rivers, islands and a vast network of narrow and wide canals.  It is one of the few fresh water tidal areas in Europe.   After the closing of the open sea at Haringvliet in 1970, the tidal effect was lowered by 2 metres which has meant a change in the surrounding land, and it is predicted that in time the area will become a marshy woodland.   The area is being monitored very carefully to ensure that the changes in the environment are suitable for the birds, animals and fish that live there.

Our first stop was the visitors centre, where there was plenty of information about the National Park, and from there we took a small ferry across the canal to one of the islands.    As part of the trip, we were advised to use their insect repellent as the mosquitoes were large and very active on the island.   And this was true!    Great big critters too.

 Once on the island we assembled for the group photograph.  

 And off we went through the narrow spongy paths, with an array of very high plants on either side.   Plenty of stinging nettles too.    But apparently the beavers like to eat them.   There were also established trees in this section of the island.

 And over 'The Three Billy Goats Gruff' bridge.     No sign of the troll thank goodness.   Actually the bridge is high, in order that boats can pass underneath it.

 We did not see any beavers but plenty of muddy beaver paths beside the water.    The beavers were reintroduced to the area in 1988, after having been all destroyed by the early 1800s.  The last one was bludgeoned to death.   Did we all need to know that?   There are now plenty of beavers about now, thank goodness.

Water, water, everywhere.    The area was used as a hiding place for members of the Dutch resistance during World War II and anyone else who wanted to escape detection.  The Germans did not like entering the area, as it was overgrown, full of small waterways and altogether very unpleasant.    Even now, canoeists are given special maps so that they can find their way around the narrow waterways.  It is very easy to get lost, very quickly.

This is the first house that the three little pigs built.   Of reeds.    Yet it has survived for a hundred years or more.

 Conditions improved and the next house was built of wood.    And yes there was a third house, built off bricks of course   Very uncanny and similar to the 'The Three Pigs story'.     The houses were used by the seasonal workers who used them when cutting the reeds.   A very poorly paid job.  And very hard work.

 

As the water is now too shallow for good reed growing, the area is mainly covered in willows.  They pollard the trees regularly, and the thin branches are used as a base for dykes and for shoring up banks of rivers and swamps.

A National Park boat, hidden amongst the reeds.

 Time for a rest, in the only open space on the island.    Note the sun is shining too.    And the mosquitoes were out in full force.  No photographs of them though.  They were too fast.

Amazingly the area was a prosperous farming area until 1421, when there was a massive flood, called St Elizabeth's Flood, and 16 villages disappeared off the map.   Just like that!

And now it is a mysterious and fascinating water park, with green islands, and an abundance of flora and fauna.    All at the fingertips of people who live in Holland.

Madurodam

Madurodam.    Revamped.    Looking very spruce, with a new entrance, newly painted exhibits, and some new buildings, and with lots of interactive displays, which children love of course.    

Parents of a Dutch soldier, who was their only child and who died in a concentration camp during World War II, donated money to build Madurodam in memory of their son, and to give joy to the children of Holland.    It is a non profit making organisation.   Money is put aside to pay staff and for the upkeep and development of the site.    The remaining surplus is given to children's charities. 

So what is Madurodam?  It is full of miniature buildings, trains, farms, ships, aeroplanes, and much more.     All depicting life in Holland.   A children's paradise, especially now they can play with exhibits.

And the sun shone, all afternoon.    Bliss.

But first we needed to eat lunch, very healthy of course.    Hot dogs, krokets and chips, all washed down with fizzy drinks.    Plus coffee for Walter and me.  

A view from the restaurant, towards the front entrance.   The hot dog and ice cream stand on the right of the photograph is doing a great trade.

I think this is meant to be a market garden.

Mia and Abi working the locks.

And making sure that they place the bricks on the boat correctly, otherwise the boat will tip over.

Apartment blocks, well planned, which in real life the Dutch are somewhere in Holland.    Sorry, these are not apartment blocks, but are in fact the buildings of a very large bank.   Must have a lot of money!

This motorway needs more cars and trucks on it, in order to be a correct image of modern highways.

The airport tower.

The outdoor concert in the park.    Even the little people in front of stage danced in time to the music.   If you put some money in the slot.

Rest time.   While Mia and Abi played in the playground, we sat and soaked up the sunshine.

The clogs were there, waiting for a photograph.    In this case with Mia and Abi.

The tower in Utrecht.

The town hall in Gouda.

Amsterdam.

Amsterdam again.

The Peace Palace.   When the palace was built, countries donated parts of the building.

And at the end we weighed ourselves.   Abi weighed half a cheese round, Mia weighed a cheese round, I weighed 5 1/2 cheese rounds, and Walter weighed 7 1/2 cheese rounds.    I think being compared to cheese rounds is much better than knowing what you weigh in kilos.

And then we went and had a very quick look at Scheveningen, the coastal town, which looked a bit like some of the run down English seaside towns.   But Scheveningen has been rejuvenated and looks very prosperous and alive.

I have always liked Scheveningen, even when it was dowdy, plus windy and very cold.    Probably it was due to the fact that I could say the name, 'Scheveningen'.