A grandparents' cottage

The fourth grandbaby is due to be born on Friday. We are setting off tomorrow so that we can be on hand just in case the baby decides to put in a surprise appearance. We are renting a cottage in a village just outside Bristoland I rang the owner this morning to arrange to collect the keys. When I told her the purpose of our  visit she was stunned. Apparently the last four couples who have stayed in the cottage were  there to await the arrival of grandbabies! I am going to suggest that she asks each of us for a photograph of the babies so that she can make a feature of this unusual use  of her cottage.

Photos of baby and the village where we will be staying when I get back. I'll take my laptop but don't know if I will be able to get online. Just when I had started to catch up on my blog visits, too!

Off again

I will be taking the train to Bristol Temple Meads tomorrow. It is a splendid station, designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel and opened in 1840. I am going to spend a few days with my son and his wife and I will even get to do a bit of babysitting. I'll report back on what mischief Charlotte and I got up to when I get back.

More from Bristol

Last week's trip to Bristol and Birmingham was arranged around the concerts reported on in the last post but there were other things to see and do. We spent three days in Bristol and I took my camera along with me.There are many beautiful buildings and fascinating things to see in the city but they are so closely packed together, or overshadowed by newer buildings, that it is easy to miss them and hard to take photographs of them with my standard point-and-click digital camera.

Old markets are always interesting and Bristol boasts the beautiful St Nicholas Markets, where you can find everything from the freshest of farm produce to stunning works of art. The buildings themselves are works of art but this is the best I can offer of the stuccoed frieze and door frames. The market stalls are too closely packed to get a better view and, though I spent several hours searching the bookshops, I couldn't find a pictorial guide to the markets. If anyone knows of one that I could buy, I would love to hear about it.

One of the market halls is called the Nails Market. Outside it, on Corn Street, are four bronze pillars, or nails, which were used by local merchants when transacting business before the Exchange was built in the early eighteenth century.
Tradition has it that a bargain was struck when money was placed on the nail, thus giving rise to the saying "paying on the nail". I hope that this innocent seeming nail was only used to seal sales of corn and played no part in Bristol's more sinister trading history.
Above the entrance to the Nails Market is the Bristol Clock. If you look closely, you will see that it has two minute hands; at the time I took this photo, the clock read both 09:55 and 10:06.
The clock dates to the Victorian era and the development of the railways. Bristol, like all major cities, set its clocks according to when the sun reaches its zenith in that particular place. Bristol being 2 degrees and 36 minutes west of Greenwich, Bristol time was 11 minutes later than Greenwich time. This was not a problem when journeys were undertaken on horseback or in carriages, but the trains ran according to London time, so the Bristolians were forever arriving 11 minutes too late to catch them. The Mayor of Bristol, being a true business man, had this clock made to show both London time and Bristol time and the good people of Bristol have never been known to miss a train from that day to the present. (GMT was adopted by Bristol in 1852.)
One man who spent a great deal of time travelling was John Wesley, the founder of Methodism. Banned from preaching in Anglican churches, he built his first dedicated chapel in the Horsefair, in 1739. Again, I had difficulty in taking photographs as the narrow chapel and yard are overshadowed by more modern buildings.
These are just a few of the treasures that historic Bristol has to offer. I'm a country girl at heart but I always enjoy a few days in Bristol and discover something interesting on each visit.

A legend and an ego

I have done it at last: having waited for more than 40 years, I have seen Bob Dylan live in concert. Admittedly, we had to take it on trust that he was really there on that distant stage in the NIA in Birmingham, but he kindly wore a white hat so that we could pick him out from the black-hatted members of the excellent band that shared the stage.
So, we couldn't really see him, we couldn't recognise even the most familiar songs, he didn't speak to us but we were there and I wouldn't have missed it for anything. He was Dylan being Dylan and I loved every second of the performance. One absolute certainty about the Bob Dylan Concert Tour is that each performance is unique, you couldn't recognise Blowin' in the Wind in Cardiff, but you couldn't recognise it in a different way in Birmingham.

My son has written an excellent piece on the concert in particular and on Dylan in general here. He draws an important distinction between the man and his songs; the audience and the critics are divided between those who are disappointed when their old favourites sound very different and those who are there to enjoy the 'Dylan experience'.

On Tuesday evening, the MM and I went to Colston Hall in Bristol for the Gary Moore concert. The first hour was excellent; Buddy Whittington (picture from his official website) had the audience totally engaged and I think most of us would have been happy for him to fill the rest of the evening's programme.

Then he left, to make way for Gary Moore, who deigned to put in an appearance 45 minutes later. During the long wait, his sound engineer cranked up the volume way beyond the level of human comfort. The audience, who had clapped and foot-tapped through Buddy Whittington's performance, sat still and tense, enduring and not enjoying the sound. After four numbers, my husband indicated that he could stand no more and we joined a growing number of people who left the hall with aching heads and ringing ears.

We had only previously heard Gary Moore on CD; he is hugely talented as a guitarist and vocalist. Surely only mediocre musicians need to hide behind excessive loudness? And this was beyond excessive, way beyond the legal limit for noise in an enclosed area. What an oversized ego the man has to treat his audience in this manner. If you were thinking of attending one of his concerts, take ear defenders (our standard earplugs were no help), better still, stay at home and listen to him on your own sound system.

That was the only blip in an otherwise excellent week of good news, excellent company, fine food and wines, comfortable hotels and an evening with the legendary Bob Dylan.

Bath chaps

The first thing I noticed when walking into Bath from the car park was this fine pig perched above the entrance to an architect's office in Queen Square. The label gave its name as Disco Pig.
Walking on, I spotted another pig suspended from the offices of the Flying Pig Renovation Company.

Approaching the Pump Room, I saw was Goldie. I could feel a theme developing.
Next to the Abbey, were two more: the appropriately named Abi ....

..... and companion, Emily.
The Tourist Information Office revealed all. These are just a few of the 100 pigs in and around Bath forming the King Bladud's Pigs public art project.

King Bladud? No, he doesn't feature in any of my history books either. Legend has it that he was a Celtic prince who lived about 3000 years ago.He developed a disfiguring disease and was expelled from the palace. He became a swineherd but his poor pigs contracted the disease from him. One day, the pigs rolled in the hot mud around the springs in the Avon Valley and their skin disease was cured. Bladud plunged into the mud and was similarly cured. He returned to the palace and was made king. In gratitude for his cure, he established a settlement near the hot springs, dedicating it to the Celtic goddess Sul. 900 years later, the Romans came along ...
.... and built their city of Aquae Sulis (Waters of Sul) with the famous curative baths. The Romans left and the city became simply Bath. The city as we know it today, was developed in Georgian times and this little pig, called Save the Hamazon, is admiring the oldest house in Bath ....

... where Sally Lunn baked her famous Bath buns.

Much as I would have loved to find all 100 pigs, I ran out of time. I spotted this one from the top of the tour bus, and these two, frolicking in the park, as I walked back to the car park at the end of the day.

All the pigs will be sold at a public auction at the end of October, to raise money for a conservation project in Bath. Which pig would I buy if I had £2000 or so to spare? I think it would have to be this one:

I dedicate this piggy post to fellow pig lover H, son of Juliet on the Muddy Island. In case you haven't heard of it, H, 'Bath chaps' is a local delicacy made from pigs' cheeks. I've never been tempted to try it but I would love to give one of these chaps a home.

A day in Bath

I could never tire of visiting Bath. It was one of our favourite destinations for short breaks when the children were growing up and I still like to visit at least once a year. I love the architecture, the Roman and Georgian history, the Jane Austen connections, the shops and restaurants. Last year, after several unsuccessful attempts, I managed to get to the American Museum on a day that it was open!

As I was only there on a day trip last week, I decided to avoid the Jane Austen Centre, the Roman Baths, the Pump Room and the Abbey. If I name all the other places I avoided, no-one will read on, so perhaps I'll give Jane a mention to hold your interest! Coming soon, (19th to 28th September) is the annual Jane Austen Festival. If only I could have postponed my visit, I should have been in heaven.If, like me, you cannot make it during the festival and have to make your own way around the city, I recommend that you get a copy of this excellent guide. It gives all the appropriate quotations from Northanger Abbey and Persuasion, describes the city as it was in Jane Austen's time there and has some very interesting anecdotes about her family.
I bought my copy of Bath as Jane Austen knew it in the Tourist Information Office, which must be one of the most impressive tourist offices in the UK.
We sat in the Abbey Churchyard, poring over our pamphlets from the information centre, drinking freshly brewed coffee and listening to a very talented violinist outside the Pump Room.
The dry, sunny day was such a rare occurence this summer, that we decided not to waste a minute of it indoors. We would take a ride on an open-top tourist bus. In fact we took two tours. The bus ticket is valid for two days, giving access to the city bus tour and the 'Skyline' tour, taking you up into the hills as far as Claverton Down and the American Museum. It also gives you admission to museums at reduced rates.

The guides on both buses were very entertaining and pointed out lots of things we had missed on our previous visits. It was really interesting to see the buildings from the top deck of the bus; many of the ground floor rooms of Georgian houses have been converted into shops but the upper floor frontages remain unchanged.

Great Pulteney Street probably looks as it did in Georgian times, except for the vehicles.
All the lovely buildings in Bath were prime targets for the Window Tax in the eighteenth century. There is quite a lot of evidence of how people avoided paying the tax by replacing the glass with bricks or stone.


One of the features of Bath that I like is the inscriptions chiselled into the walls, whether it is the name of the street or the original purpose of the building, such as this former hospital for rheumatic conditions.
I took a lot of photos of carved street names because they are fast disappearing and being replaced by painted signs.

A day in the city would not be complete without a look at some shops. This one is Jolly's, which claims to be the oldest department store in Europe, although Jenners of Edinburgh makes a similar claim. The main entrance is on Milsom Street but I like the back of the shop with its unspoiled facade

and this interesting wall inscribed with extracts from Magna Carta.
Nearby is Paxton and Whitfield, purveyors of fine cheesesince 1797.

And no trip to Bath is complete (for my family, at least) without calling in at the Sausage Shop.
I spotted this bead shop in a narrow street by the Abbey. It is a treasure trove for those who work with beads so I took this picture for Michele, the Hedgelands Glass Lass.
I am still working on the many photographs I took and hope to have a special pig collection to display tomorrow.

Bristol between seasons

With son and daughter-in-law away on holiday, we planned to use their Bristol home as a base for a few days of cultural saturation. It didn't turn out quite as we expected but we had a good time and here are a few pictures from the visit.

We arrived on Monday afternoon in heavy rain. After a whole summer of practice, we knew there was little point in waiting for the rain to stop so we donned raincoats and went for a walk, intending to finish up at a restaurant for dinner. We plodded and splashed our way to the top of Two Mile Hill but no open restaurant did we find, so we turned around and splashed our way down again. Then we spotted a Chinese Take Away with these friendly figures inviting us inside.
Lin, the charming owner, introduced us to the Lucky Cat and served us the very best take-away meal.It wasn't quite the evening we had anticipated but we were saturated and we experienced something of a different culture.
On Tuesday the rain was torrential rather than heavy. We headed for the harbour, planning to view the modern art in the Arnolfini, to visit SS Great Britain and Explore @Bristol. My googling had suggested that all of these venues were closed to the public for the week but my husband was convinced that I must be mistaken. I wasn't. We had arrived between seasons, the very week when new exhibitions and activities were being put in place ready for the autumn.

Walking along the rain-washed quay, we spotted this gloomy figure. It was John Cabot, probably contemplating his own frustrated journey in 1496, when he was forced to abandon his expedition and return to Bristol. A year later, he set off in his small ship, the Matthew and 'discovered' North America. This replica of the Matthew was built to commemorate the 500th anniversary of his voyage in 1997.

Alongside the Matthew in the floating harbour was the eco-friendly trimaran, Earthrace.

Both vessels are 78 feet long, one uses renewable fuel in the form of biodiesel and the other depends on the wind.

500 years ago it might have taken two years to circumnavigate the world in a ship like the Matthew, Earthrace has just set a new record of 60 days.
Wet but undefeated, we walked to the nearby Shakespeare Tavern. Built around 1725 as a merchant's house, it has been a tavern since 1775. It boasts some beautiful stairs and panelling and
this doorway into the road behind the inn. Who knows what was out there in the eighteenth century?
Wednesday was dry and even sunny so we went to Bath. More on that tomorrow.

Autumn break

Here is my dear little car, home at last from the garage. It may be old and have an incredibly high mileage but I love it. Any resemblance to my Aga is almost purely coincidental.

On Wednesday, we packed up the car and headed for Bath, a treat the dear old lovable MM had planned to make up for the fact that I missed out on a summer holiday this year. We have been to Bath on many occasions but I never tire of doing the Jane Austen tours, visiting the Abbey , the Pump Rooms and the Roman Baths. I managed to re-read Northanger Abbey and Persuasion for the thousandth time, to put me in the right mood for the visit.

I love the architecture and the river. I managed to get this shot of Pulteney Bridge but all my other shots have intrusive modern vehicles or crowds of people in them so I'll settle for this postcard of the Crescent.

We stayed in a hotel in Henrietta Street. The location was ideal, the online description perfect, the reality not to be mentioned, unfortunately. We decided not to sue but we won't be recommending it. Still, having negotiated the STAIRS (no lift) from our top floor room and skipped the inedible breakfast, it was lovely to walk the few yards to Laura Place (temporary home to the Dowager Countess Dalrymple and her daughter, the Honourable Miss Carteret, as all JA readers will know) and then on to Pulteney Bridge.

On all our previous visits to Bath we have attempted to visit the American Museum at Claverton Down but it has always been closed to the public on those particular days. This time I made good use of their website to plan my visit.

The American Museum in Britain is the only museum devoted to American decorative arts. There is a permanent collection of folk art and special exhibitions which change from year to year; the current one being The Dollar Princesses. There are fifteen period rooms to visit, all fitted out with furniture and artifacts shipped from America and rebuilt exactly, including the wall panelling.

This is the eighteenth century Conkey's Tavern, shipped from Massachusetts. Until recent Health and Safety regulations interfered, gingerbread was cooked every day in the little oven by the fire. Now it has to be brought in from the modern kitchen to be served by a buxom lady in costume. It is worth a trip just to taste it.

There are rooms devoted to various groups such as the Shakers and Amish. There are elegant drawing rooms, simple pioneer living rooms, an extravagant New Orleans bedroom and many more. The museum also houses a unique collection of quilts, rugs and Navajo blankets.

We had afternoon tea outside on the terrace, overlooking Claverton Down. The MM had some more of the delicious gingerbread but I wanted to try some snicker doodle, in honour of all my American blogging friends. Jolly good it was too; I'd love to have the recipe.

On Thursday evening, son Andrew and his Anna came over from Bristol and we went for a deliciously different meal at Yak Yeti Yak, the highly acclaimed Nepalese restaurant in Bath. The perfect end to our short stay in the city.