Briefly . . .

As one ages one indulges in gentler pursuits. This morning the destination was Winchester by way of Hillier Gardens on the other side of Romsey. Sir Harold Hillier established the gardens in 1953. There are 180 acres to wander on grassy paths through woodland and formal gardens. The magnolia is nearly over; there was plenty of Japanese flowering cherry and the Azaleas and rhododendrons were coming in to bloom in Brentry Woodland . . .

Winchester is a wonderful city famous for the cathedral; the Wessex kings and the round table; and the Winchester Bible. Marion, Des and I made it up the narrowest spiral staircase I've ever climbed, and I've climbed a few with my bell ringing exploits, to the top of the central tower. The bells are left in the 'up' position ready to ring.The ringing chamber.The tour up the tower lasted just over an hour. Another view from atop Winchester cathedral tower looking towards the old city wall and castle. There is a cricket match in progress. Hampshire is the home of cricket, unless you are a Yorshireman, of course.After a cup of tea and scones Des had to visit his favourite antique clock and watch shop . . .

In the evening we went to the Chinese State Circus, in Southampton for just six days, to be entertained with some amazing acrobatics.

Come to the maypole, haste away, for 'tis now our holiday

I expect you may have been wondering what happened to the last day of April? Oxford (and rain) happened; and no access to a computer to edit the blog and upload pictures. . . . . I'm suffering change-ringing withdrawal symptoms. Already? I'm not quite at the sea-side once again. Southampton. A guest at Des and Marion's in Bitterne. I left Silver End for Oxford yesterday morning; this is the car I'm driving

I found my way to Braintree and was promptly mystified by the roads none of which were at all familiar to me. I didn't 'find' myself' and feel confident until I reached Hemel Hempstead and recognized a pub, the Leather Bottle. Ha! I was on the right road. I've noticed that some reliable, sensible pub names have changed. At Aylesbury I followed the signs to Oxford, but I missed Thame . . . oh well. Julian's black cat, Caesar, didn't swear at me when I let myself into the house, I guess he got socialized during his week long stay with Clare's cats and all the coming and going of people at Silver End. First order was tea, as it is everywhere; Then a walk down to the Plain, across Magdelen Bridge

Then right along Long Wall to snap the original Morris works

From there into Holywell

to Broad Street; look at all those bicycles - must be term time.

I resisted the temptation to go browsing in Blackwell's then made my way to Carfax for a trip up the tower to take more pictures in the rain.

As the intensity of the rain increased I made my way past the castle and back around to the bottom of St Aldates to Folly Bridge over the Isis (known everywhere else in England as the Thames) Do you find all these parentheses tiresome? I shall I stop making them if you like. By now the rain was hard enough to dissuade me from walking along the tow path to Iffley lock as my dear sister had suggested; instead I walked in Christ Church meadowson the city side of the river where some fine old cows were browsing. Affixed to the wall behind Merton there is this plaquecommemorating the first 'fire' balloon flight. I arrived back at Princes Street just before Julian left for his evening duty in the kitchen at Lady Margaret Hall (now co-ed). I settled down with bread and strawberry jam and more tea and World Championship snooker from Sheffield Crucible on the telly. Very relaxing. Clare and Robin soon arrive with loot from a shopping trip in Oxford and we settled down to an evening in front of the telly watching the news, Eastenders and My Family; and the Clare let me play with the Wii after she'd had enough of Guitar Hero.

May Day I got up bright and early to go down to the Plain

to hear the choir and bells of Magdelen sing in, and bless, May morning at six o'clock. The bridge was closed, a very unpopular measure to prevent revellers jumping into the shallow Cherwell from the bridge, so I couldnt get into the city. I missed the Morris dancing! The bells rang up in peal but I couldn't hear them very well for the noise of the crowd. I returned to Princes street for breakfast and went to the shop to replenish the larder and buy the morning newspapers before packing ready to set off for Southampton. I miss my trusty navigator (Kathy). After we'd had an initial catching up with our news chat Marion and Des took me to Romsey Abbey church, one of those very large parish churches of cathedral dimensions. We plan a trip to Winchester tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Haven't quite got to the sea yet.

This was more of a rest day taking Anthea to Maldon; and shopping after lunch whilst I took a quick shufty to the quays before going back home by way of Goldhanger with a quick detour to Heybridge Basin.
Probably one of the most photographed and painted views of the quay at Maldon with St Mary's church overlooking the river.

The bridge carrying the road from Heybridge and points north at the bottom of Maldon Hill.

The Old Ship pub (freehouse: meaning it's not tied to, or owned by, a particular brewery) by the lock into the basin. And a view looking downstream on the estuary of the Blackwater towards the North Sea. Very blue isn't it?

William likes to take candid pictures of people . . . easy to do when I'm snoozing.

Crinkle-crankle to treble bob

This was to have been a rest day from my running around the countryside, but guess what, I did some driving around the countryside anyway. I'm sure some of these country roads weren't as narrow when I bicycled along them when I was a boy. And one has the sensation of driving through a green tunnel with the tall, thick hedges on either side of the lanes.

I went on an expedition to snap pictures and visit some structures build with Collier's bricks.For three and a half years after leaving school (What do I do now?) I worked at W H Collier trying to make bricks. Some of the results ended up in this crinkle-crankle (a decorative, wavy wall)

along a road in Great Braxted, Lea Lane. This close up displays something of the variety of colours and the texture of a hand-made brick. Time was when a maker could recognize the bricks he made from their shape and the characteristic face pattern.(Not really; one cheats and looks at the letter on the frog before the brick becomes part of a wall!)

I followed back roads to Wind Mill Hill to a single lane road which has become a farm track, except it is metalled, as it is so little used by general traffic. There is a triangulation point still in a field nearby; a legacy from the days when England was first mapped by the Ordnance Survey. There were bluebells in their natural woodland habitat.

I visited Feering the village where I delivered mail for a while, too, on a push bike. The parish church, now part of the united benefice of Kelvedon and Feering, is dedicated to All Saints. There a is great old yew tree in the churchyard.

And there is a village green with village sign, old telephone box and post box.

I followed part of my route along Goggeshall Road to Feeringbury Manor and turned up another road which is little more than a single track road to Sky Green and Langley Green past Honigals Farm to Great Tey and then to the brick works

in Marks Tey. The brick works was sold by the family that had run it for over a century but still trades under the name W.H.Collier. There are fewer hand-makers now and I met Terry, who is now retired but works a couple of days a week, and reminisced about the 'good' old days when it really was hard, long days. I tried to make decent bricks for three and a half years and worked with Terry then, and we remembered Tadeusz 'Ted' Noremberg the best and fastest maker we knew; he made it look so effortless and his speed came from economy of movement. And we didn't wear gloves then, either.

More place names on the old A12 between Kelvedon and Colchester: Copford, Stanway, Lexden. I came into Colchester and parked at the top of Balkerne Hill opposite the Hole in the Wall, the remains of the Balkerne Gate in the Roman Wall; the Mercury Theatre and Jumbo the Victorian water tower.

My quest was to walk around some more and take a few more pictures and find Jack's (at the end of Long Wyre Street!).

I then took a leisurely wander around the Castle museum which has fun things to do like wearing a replica of a Roman soldier's helmet, hefting mail amour to feel just how heavy it was and draping a toga over your shoulder. There was also an exhibition of etchings and woodcuts by seventeen local artists including James Dodds. That, for me, was a totally restful day completed by ringing a plain course of Kent treble bob on the delightful bells at Inworth in the evening before getting back to Silver End to write this and correct some errors in previous blogs. A writer is his own worst editor.

Good Morning

This is a recuperate day. Being here for such a short time is like changing gears on the fly: I neither live hear nor am I a tourist and the quotidian round is much the same as at home except for the bell-ringing and seeing old friends. I've not posted many pictures of people. I wanted to capture a sense of place; familiar and unfamiliar sights. The smells: the must of woods, the vegetable smell of the blooming oil-seed rape (canola). The feel of a cool misty morning: damp, dewy grass sparkling in the morning sun, soft showers. The sounds of birdsong, children playing in the nearby school, the hum and changing gears of cars, 'planes flying out of Stansted airport, dogs barking, cooing pigeons.

I've not made time to play much music or read; it is enough to stand and stare (and I haven't made much time for that dashing about in a car) I will go and take some pictures of Feering and do a little shopping and browsing in Colchester, maybe stop by the brick works in Marks Tey on the way too . . . so much for having a quiet day.

Colchester redux

I think I'm caught up with time now as I awoke with the birds singing at first light at about five o'clock this morning. I wasn't awake enough to go walking with Anthea this morning so went to buy a paper to have a go at the cryptic crossword puzzle. The cloudy, showery weather which had been forecast for the week-end finally materialised; it had to I was to take Julian (younger nephew) back to Oxford; and it usually rains when I go Oxford, last week being an exception. First I was to meet a ringing friend and her husband who travel to Colchester from Cambridgeshire regularly to visit her parents. We took refuge from the rain in the Minories, a gallery with a refreshment shop at the top of East Hill, Colchester. We then walked around Colchester to some of the less frequented historical places of note in the town like remains of St Botolph's Priory and St John's Gate.

Another of my favourite corners is Scheregate Steps in a passage connecting St John's Street with Isaac Walk and Eld Lane. I was disappointed to see yet another pub name change: the Clarence is now the Purple Dog. Scheregate Steps are over the site of part of the Roman wall much of which remains in other parts of the town notably Balkerne Hill where much remains also of a Roman gate into the town and Lower Castle Park. below

There are many formal flower beds in the Castle Park but the daffodils and hyacinths are over and the roses (for which Colchester was once famed) will not be blooming for another month or so but the tulips were in full bloom.
The remains of the Norman keep are massive. It is build partly on the foundations of a Roman temple.


Hollytrees houses a museum of childhood. A rather elegant brick building. I like brick building because I hand-made bricks at one time . . . The Dutch quarter is also a quiet area off the High Street that is worth exploring on foot. East Stockwell below and West Stockwell below left streets . . .

To the sea . . . almost.

I slept well after yesterday's festivities and dressed hurriedly to join Anthea, my sister, walking Solo across the fields. This is routine and the walk follows public footpaths around the fields of the farmland surrounding the village. Another beautiful day despite forecasts predicting cloudier weather with a 10% chance of rain showers. After breakfast I took myself off to Woodbridge to see one of my longstanding friends Steve. He's lived and worked around Woodbridge and East Suffolk for well over twenty years now. After the obligatory cup of tea and a catch up chat with ours 'doings' since we last talked in person eleven years ago we took a long walk around the beautiful town of Woodbridge. I'd already taken a tour by car as I could not find my way to Steve's bachelor pad forgetting I had to make a complete turn around a roundabout (Am. Eng. = traffic circle) to make the turn into Haugh Lane off which he lives so I ended up in Melton, realized my mistake headed back to and through Woodbridge and this time I reached Martlesham before turning back and finally asking a young man for directions. No, I don't need satelite navigation thank you very much and I do think I have a fairly good sense of direction it's just my memory that's a little faulty sometimes.

Many local pubs are struggling to stay open and nearly all serve good food to help make ends meet. This is the Angel just off the Market Square where sits the Town Hall and another fashionably popular pub.
Two views of Woodbridge Shire Hall.

Just off Market Hill is the parish church dedicated, as so many churches were in mediaeval times, to St Mary. The imposing tower houses ten bells the tenor weighing about 25cwt. And, yes, I have rung at a practice night there many years ago. I know, I know the tower appears to be toppling over backwards . . .

One of the pleasant shopping streets; this one is very pleasant as Browsers is on this street . . . yes, a book shop!

Woodbridge is a wonderful example of an English country town. It sits at the head of the estuary of the river Deben. The tide-mill is a famous landmark on the waterfront near the quay. The town was bombed by a zeppelin in the Great War (WW I) and many American servicemen from the nearby bases knew the town well.
A typical street of cottages

The Wilford Bridge, a pub just outside Woodbridge on the road to Orford, where we stopped to eat. Adnam's is a local (Southwold) well known brewery



Two views of the Ore from the quay at Orford. Henry II built a castle here; there are fine views from the top of the keep.