Category Archives: Holidays

Town and County

I’d already been thinking about Town and Country life when the latest Selvedge Magazine landed on the door mat this morning. Isn’t it strange when that happens?

Last week we stayed in North Somerset for a couple of days visiting family and even though I left there when I was a child I still feel I’m going ‘home’. I love the hills, and the meadows. It seems so green after living in arable Norfolk where the fields are so often ploughed and brown. But I’m also very fond of Bristol as a city and we were lucky to have a beautiful day for a quick visit, and a trip across the river on the ferry to walk around the new development of what used to be the docks.

I love that row of icecream coloured houses perched precariously along the edge, don’t you? I do have an ‘If I win the lottery fantasy’ about buying an apartment just here, very streamlined and minimalist, and trotting off in the evening to a sophisticated little bar before moving on to the theatre. Spending sunday mornings on one of the boats that have been converted into a restaurant reading the papers over a leisurely breakfast and popping off to Bath in the afternoon for a cream tea.

It’s very modern…

This is the Planatarium. Could it be a planet for Penny?

The pigeons always make themselves at home…

The facilities don’t seem to be so good for dogs. Don’r show Higgins…

We also visited Bath, not for a cream tea, but lunch.

I love the warm golden look of Bath…

One day we’ll get there with more time to explore. I rather wanted to go lion hunting. There were apparently 100 lions all over the city to discover, decorated by various artists and groups. These were rather elegant…

But my heart was won by this one…

Isn’t he just fabulous?

Love the curled lip, all that’s missing are the blue suede shoes!

Back home, the lovely weather is over and we’re back to dog walking in the mud.

But there’s lots to see here too. Free food…

Beautiful colours…

A very brave poppy!

And these delicate, amazing toadstools…

So where would you rather be? With what you know about me now can you see me in a minimalist apartment without my mountain of yarn, and textiles and books and stuff? Nope, me neither!

P.S. Tomorrow is the day of the Pompom Bunting Draw from this post. If you are quick there is still just time to leave a comment and enter!

Rain in Rouen

It may be quite a way south of Norfolk, but Normandy seems to enjoy much the same weather as we do in Norfolk, so while the garden at home was getting nicely soaked after a long dry spell we were enjoying torential downpours and thunderstorms too. In fact, after a frantic trip outside to deal with a blocked downpipe which threatened to divert the entire deluge in through the conservatory roof rather than into the drain, Tom and Tim looked like extras from a Hornblower movie.

So, on our last day, it was entirely apt to head off to the coast to look for seasick sailors. I was determined to do this having read Thomas’ blog post here, and wasn’t going to let a bit of rain put us off.

Normandy is beautiful, and full of contrasts. High plateaus of fields and agriculture, and beautiful green valleys, leafy lanes and timbered houses. Hard to appreciate though through the steamed up windows of the car.

Our destination was a cliff top church at Varengeville sur Mer, the burial place of, among others of the artistic and literary elite, George Braque a contemporary of Picasso.

I was looking forward to seeing the inside of the church, which Thomas had described as being lit by the sun through the beautiful stained glass windows, but when I stood in the doorway on this dark and dismal day I might as well have been standing at the mouth of a cave. Below me all I could see was the Madonna lit by candles.

This was another time to be grateful for my camera, as I could actually see more on the display than in reality.

Here was the pillar I’d heard so much about…

That poor sea sick sailor…

and the woman of his dreams, the mermaid.

Outside in the church yard I was fascinated by the enormous tombs, so different from our grassy English churchyards, and the amazing china flowers decorating some of them.

Moss had added a new dimension to this one…

Monet had seen the church rather differently…

So it would be nice to go back one day in the sunshine.

I missed out on the garden designed by Gertrude Jekyll at Bois de Moutier, because of the rain. I could have happily wandered round with the trees dripping down my neck, but my companions had only just got over their soaking from the night before and obviously thought I was mad.

Back in the car, the windows even more steamed up because of our wet coats we retraced our steps back to the village where my daughter-in-law has promised me a shop I would like.

How well she knows me! The photographs I took inside are rubbish, I’m embarrassed to show them. I was far too excited about everything I could see, and I can never get over the feeling that someone is going to think I’m some sort of spy and get cross. (I know lots of other bloggers take pictures in shops. How do you get round this? What do you say ?Please let me know)

It’s a cliche to say it was like an Aladdin’s Cave. There were beads, barrels of beads and shells and little tin dishes to collect them in. Bundles of brightly colour ribbons hung from the ceiling and draped across the shelves. A huge rack of turned wooden bobbins were wound with Liberty print bindings. Baskets of trimmings and printed tapes. Necklaces and bracelets made from metal charms and glass beads. Bolts of linen, natural and dyed, striped and checks. Bales of flowery Liberty prints, baskets of fat quarters for patchwork, embroidery silks and cottons. And for those who wanted to by things readymade two rooms filled with table linens and teatowels, crafts and soaps and…and…

I usually leave these shops empty handed, overwhelmed by the choice and completely unable to make up my mind. With a supreme effort, and with the image of husband and son losing the will to life out of the corner of my eye, I chose a few little pieces.

This ribbon, blue like the flower of the linen…

Tape, perfect for Planet Penny…

Pretty, pretty flowery binding…

and a fat quarter of ballerinas.

Alas, no website, but if you happen to be 9 kilometres from Dieppe in Varengeville call in, I promise you, you’ll love it.

Back…

…but not on track yet…I get into a bit of a dooda when I haven’t blogged for a while and I know there is a backlog of photos in my camera and words in my head and I don’t know where to start so please forgive me if it all goes a bit jumbly as it’s very true to life!

Life has been extremely hectic but Tim has gone back to work for a fortnight and I will be working to a different rhythm. The only way to cope with this sort of routine is to divide life into two and look for the positive aspects of something potentially depressing, like being alone for two weeks while your other half is stuck in the middle of the North Sea. As in an empty space in the bed but no snoring! Cooking for one, but fewer calories cos the one who wants roast potatoes and a pud has someone else to cook them!

We all had a lovely few days away. Higgins came home looking very trim after spending all his holidays dashing round after his whippet friends. He obviously made himself completely at home because he stole underpants out of their laundry basket too! We had a grandson fix to keep us going until they come to stay in August. It was a little bittersweet as, after living in Normandy all their married life, our son and daughter-in-law are relocating to the south coast of England next month. Rouen hasn’t seen the last of us though, as my fellow mother-in-law (together we are ‘The Belle-mere Mafia) has invited us back to stay and as you will later see, there is still shopping to be done!

I still haven’t told you about the Pick n’Mix Market, which seems a long time ago now. Fortunately Teena and Lisa took lots of lovely photos as I was so excited I completely forgot! So pop over to Kitschen Pink and Bobo Bun to get the full picture, both of their lovely stalls, and everyone else’s! I was very drawn to Sasha’s stall with assorted stuffed toys made of such pretty fabrics. Do I need a flowery kitten? Well no, but I couldn’t quite resist.

There were beautiful dog collars and leads in Liberty fabrics, but Higgins is too much of a boy and I regretfully passed by (Also, I want Tim to be prepared to walk him, and I don’t think a flowery lead would pass, Tim’s too much of a boy too) After refreshing ourselves with coffee and delicious Stilton and walnut scones at Daisy Boo’s Kitchen (I also forgot to photograph the cupcakes, sorry) in the corner I crept back to see Emma, of Silver Pebble, because she also had something quite irresistible, this gorgeous silver, pearl and mother-of-pearl button necklace. Actually, most of it was irresistable but I couldn’t spend ALL of the housekeeping…

(Despite my best efforts I couldn’t get a photograph that did justice to the necklace’s prettiness so please visit Silver Pebble to see Emma’s lovely jewelry at it’s best)

Back to our holiday and my first exciting shopping may seem inexplicable to some. We went to IKEA! Well I do live in a very rural part of the country where the nearest Ikea is two and a half hours away in two different directions so it’s always a treat. We actually went to look at useful but dull stuff, like kitchen cupboards but then I found some lovely colourful bits and pieces which made me very happy…

See how easily pleased I am? I mean, washing up brushes! But the little pots hang off a bar and will be a cheery and useful thing to have in the studio holding scissors and pencils and brushes and all the other bits and bobs I need to have close to hand.

I did find another shop, a little treasure on the coast which I will save for next time as I fear I have lingered too long over the keyboard.

Meanwhile Higgins has been doing a little work on the side, helping out with another blog draw. If you pop over to That Elusive Line you should see him in action with the hat.

(The hat survived, just)

It’s all in the lighting…

Celia’s parents had kindly invited us for a meal and Grand-mère Auzou seemed to have the perfect little nibble for an after dinner treat.

So why was it so important to have photograph it as well? The blogger’s curse!

There was an awful lot of this…

…and it came to this…

before we got this…

But they were a delectable end to a delicious meal. Thank you Rose and Hubert!

(It really is all in the lighting!)

Rouen

Rouen has been twinned with our nearest town Norwich for 45 years, and our family has done our bit towards Entente Cordiale by marrying a son of Norwich to a daughter of Rouen. Very possibly Thomas and Celia had a rather different agenda when they tied the knot some years ago in Cambridge, but they now live within walking distance of the city centre along with two rather nice little boys, our grandsons. Which explains why Rouen is currently our holiday destination of choice.

rue Eau de Robec

It is a beautiful city, every corner you turn presents another photo opportunity. I have probably photographed the same buildings every time I’ve visited, I am so struck by the shapes made by the timber framing, especially on the older houses which have settled, subsided and twisted over the years, and the wonderful colour combinations in which some of them have been painted.

quartier Croix de Pierre

Going under the clock on rue du Gros-Horloge you come into the old Market Place and the church of Joan of Arc.

rue de Gros-Horloge
Opposite the church is La Couronne, the oldest restaurant in France, which made me feel very inadequate about my window boxes!

La Couronne

Not far in the other direction from Thomas and Celia’s house is peaceful walk along the river bank to a water mill. Peaceful to all but a nervous granny who could never get quite as near to the three year old as she would like to feel relaxed!

I am finding a reoccuring theme to my recent posts… look, I found another dahlia!

Hastings – hitting the heights!

Our third and last day in East Sussex before heading to France was dry, cloudy with a strong on-shore wind. I’m used to the blustery gusts we get in our windy corner of Norfolk, but this was a relentless blow, with the flags standing out stiffly as if set in acrylic.

Just along the coast from Hastings is Bexhill-on-Sea, with a charmingly unspoilt sea front, no fun fair, amusement arcades, fish and chips, just a row of tall elegant houses and hotels overlooking the promenade and the Channel. I wonder how many period dramas have been filmed here? A location finders dream. Talking of which, Poirot any one? He would have been perfectly at home with us as we took tea in the De La Warr Pavilion, an outstanding modernist building.

It’s almost like an ocean liner, and in that wind, we certainly felt all at sea!

In the evening we went for a stroll prior to our evening meal. Tim had his eye on a likely looking pub spotted earlier in the day. We set off along another picturesque street…

…and it was then I had a ‘Life Enhancing Experience’!! Family and close friends will know that back in the early nineties I succumbed to M.E. It’s been a long haul, and this year has been a time where I have at last felt I have been crawling out of a hole. Last summer I finally got my system free of drugs which had been deemed helpful but in fact made more problems, and then I could address the weight gain brought about by years of comfort eating. So I know this time last year all the walking this holiday had entailed so far would have been out of the question. Who can walk far carrying their airport luggage allowance at all times?

Hastings has two hills each side of the town, East Hill and West Hill both reached by their own funicular railway. Our B & B, Cavalier House sits close to the bottom of the East Hill and the railway was closed for maintenance.

The castle like structure at the top end of the railway is perched above the town and has been taking people up and down since 1902 but I rather wondered why. So when we spotted the steps on our way to the pub I had a sudden rush of blood to the head and said ‘Come on, let’s do it!’ Followed by a rather dubious husband (he’s the one who gets me out of the fine messes I get into!) I set off up the steps, all 190 of them.

Where we found we were here…

This was obviously a very good place to put a beacon…

..and filled with a huge sense of acheivement, a pretty good place to put me…

Fading light meant any further exploration must wait until the railway is running again, so we made our way back down the 190 steps, and THEN went to the pub!