A day at the races!

Today, 21 January, is my mother's 90th birthday, and to celebrate my brother organised a family party at Fontwell races.  Originally the plan had been to take a hospitality suite, with lunch and drinks, and to enjoy the racing from the balcony.  However, a few days ago one of the principal sponsors pulled out, and my brother was offered the opportunity to sponsor a race at half price, which he chose to do, so the 3rd race of the day was designated "Marigold Somerset at 90".

It was an early start for us all, and London early on a Sunday morning has little traffic, so we arrived at Clapham Junction in good time, and joined my nephew and his partner - who had caught the train at Victoria by the skin of their teeth - on the train.  Soon the Daughter and the Boys arrived - they, too, had only just caught the train, and had based themselves a couple of carriages further up, so there was much visiting. The Boys were resplendent in new ties - Boy Two had never worn one before, and was very proud of it.

We eventually arrived at Barnham and had to wait about 15 minutes - and a long, chilly 15 minutes it was, too - for the shuttle bus to the racecourse.  The rest of the family had already arrived, and waved vigorously from the hospitality suite on the 2nd floor.  We joined them in time for a cup of coffee before lunch, and gave my mother her presents - just oddments; I've ordered flowers but no point in having them delivered before tomorrow. 

Lunch was good - paté, followed by rather wonderful fish with new potatoes and (undercooked, but not as badly as at Christmas) carrots.  Then there was poached pears with white chocolate cheesecake, but I was able to swap mine for Boy Two's brownie, as he likes white chocolate and I don't.

Then the racing began.  I don't bet, but it was fun picking the winners, and seeing whether they matched the tipster's selections - mostly, they didn't!  The Boy is obviously too young to bet himself, but his father placed bets for him, and he was delighted to win in the first race - but, alas, lost all his winnings during the rest of the afternoon!  The Daughter, with her usual luck, ended the day £3 ahead!

The third race, of course, was the main event so far as we were concerned, and we went down to the paddock as my mother had to pick the best turned-out horse (with helpful hints from the niece who is in the business and told her what to look for), and then we went to the grandstand to watch the race.  I watched it from the railings, which was rather fun.

My mother then presented the trophy to the winning owners, and then we all went into the winners' room to watch a rerun of the race and drink complimentary champagne.  And then we went up to the hospitality suite again and it was time to cut the cake, which my sister had made:

There were still four more races, although I watched most of them on the screen, from the comfort of the hospitality suite!  It was definitely an unpleasant day.  I did go out to watch the last race on the balcony, though - it was very nearly dark by then. 





Then back to the shuttle bus, and a wait for the train (there was a waiting-room, so we were not too cold.  And the train back to London, and for us, a quick bus home from Clapham Junction - noticeably more traffic than there had been 10 hours earlier!


Thanks particularly to my brother for a lovely day!

Christmas on the River

For the first time for many years, we had found ourselves with no plans for Christmas.  I am sure my sister would have invited us, but we didn't want her to feel she had to, so we were pro-active and booked a lunch-time cruise on the Thames, leaving from Westminster Pier. 

On Christmas Day, of course, there is no public transport in London, but one can park, so we drove up to Westminster and found a parking-space behind Westminster Central Hall, about ten minutes' walk from the pier.  Boarding was supposed to start at 11:30, but when we arrived, about ten minutes earlier, they had already begun - and we were glad we had not been much later, since the queue behind us swelled to alarming proportions!  In fact, there were three boats making the cruise.

We had booked a window table, and, once our ticket had been checked, were escorted to it with a glass of sparkling wine.

  As soon as we sat down, our first course - a salmon mousse wrapped in smoked salmon and served with salad - was brought to us, but the boat did not leave its moorings until the scheduled time of noon.

The boat headed down river, under the bridges, past all the sights.  There was a singer-cum-commentator who did a fantastic job telling us where we were.  Many of the other people on the boat were tourists, from the United States and elsewhere.  We were able to spend time up on the deck, but it was too cold and dank to linger for long.  The next course was soup:

and once we had got past Tower Bridge

the main course of roast pork and all the trimmings (there was a vegetarian option, but we hadn't ordered it) was served, and then the pudding, which was some kind of straciatella cheesecake with a very nice fruit compote on the top. 

By this time, we were at Greenwich.  The boat paused at one of their piers, presumably to take on fuel, and went down the river nearly as far as the Thames Barrier.  Then it turned round and came back past the O2

 the Cutty Sark,

 the Shard

 Shakespeare's Globe,

 the Millennium Bridge

 Tate Britain,

 the Oxo Tower

 and, finally, the Houses of Parliament. 

Then the boat docked back at Westminster to end a most enjoyable cruise.  And then, because we could, we drove around part of Central London where one normally can't because of the Congestion Charge, and  saw the lights in Regent Street (we thought they were wasps at first, but it turned out to be angels!) and the big department stores.  And so home, and a much-needed nap!

A Railtour to Durham

So we decided we would do the Northern Belle Christmas special trip, as his Christmas present to me.  Mine to him will be reviewed after Christmas!  Anyway, this trip was to Durham and back, with brunch on the way there and a massive dinner on the way back.  While in Durham, we had the opportunity to visit the various Christmas and everyday markets, and to attend a carol service a the Cathedral.

The train left at 08:18 from King's Cross, which meant that for the second time this week we had to get up at sparrowfart (the first time was to blag a free breakfast from Pret à Manger, to celebrate the opening of its Brixton branch) to get there in time.  In fact, we had time to grab a coffee from the local Prets, before boarding the train.  We hadn't booked a private table, but when we sat down, the Swan Whisperer said to the woman opposite, "I know you, don't I?" and she turned out to be an old friend from Ice Dance Club, who hasn't actually been to our club since the old rink closed, and has since had two hip replacements, so she isn't quite sure when or whether she will skate again.  It was lovely to see her, and to meet her son, who had treated her to the trip.

The brunch, I have to say, was slightly spoilt by the fact that the scrambled egg with smoked salmon was rather cold - it was very nice, but would have been nicer had it been hotter!  The coffee, too, was not nearly as nice as Prets, although later when I had another cup it had got nicer (since I no longer had the taste of Pret coffee in my mouth!).  But that was the only disappointment.  There was fresh fruit salad to start with, and various pastries to finish.

We arrived in Durham on time, and there were coaches arranged to drop us nearer the cathedral.  We hadn't been to Durham before, and found it quite a long pull up the hill to get there, but once we were there, it was lovely.  There was a craft market in a marquee, and the entry fee was covered by our train fares, so we went in, and, incidentally, found the perfect Christmas present for my father!  That was the only thing we bought, though.  Then it was time to go into the Cathedral for the "Carols for All" service, which was excellent, although some people complained about the quality of the community choirs who were singing.  Nothing wrong with them, only a little uncertain, not helped by the organist having failed to read his service sheet....  An excellent talk by one of the Canons, and an offer of a free copy of St Luke's Gospel (I declined, on the grounds that after 25 years as a preacher, I really thought I might just be familiar with it!).  We then had a look round the Cathedral (I'm sorry I didn't take photographs, but my phone's battery only just held out as it was, and I knew it wouldn't if I tried), and then it was time to queue for the farmers' Christmas market in the Cloisters, which was lovely.  We didn't buy anything, although I'd have liked some of the cheese, as going home in a hot train.... not a plan!  I also tasted - was it there, or in the craft market? - some non-alcoholic ginger wine, which would have been lovely but was far, far too sweet for my taste!

Anyway, after a long look round, we found some loos, and then wandered back through the Cathedral and out into the main drag, deciding to go the other side past the marquee, which was a mistake as it meant we missed the mulled wine stall!  The main market didn't seem very Christmassy, and I'm not sure whether or not it was meant to be a Christmas market.  There were some Christmas-market type stalls, but not all.  And the indoor market is obviously there all year round.  There was a super wool shop, and I was really rather tempted....  but resisted!

We then decided to wander back towards where the buses would pick us up, as it was getting dark and we were tired, but it was awkward as we knew that if we went into a café we would want something to eat, but we didn't want to eat as we knew we were getting a huge dinner.  Ended up in a pub - a bit early to drink, but half a pint of what proved to be a simply delicious lager for me, and of cider for the Swan Whisperer, and we were able to sit out, although the SW felt a bit cold.  I was toasty warm - had been rather too hot all day!

So then we got back on to the coach and had to wait awhile at the station for our train.  The waiting area was all very well, but the automatic doors didn't shut properly, and opened every time a car moved they would open, so the poor Swan Whisperer got very cold indeed, and even I was glad to move and get on the train.

Going home, I got to sit by the window - big deal, as there was nothing to see by then - and we were heading forwards, which I do marginally prefer.  The meal was lovely - first there was a glass of champagne and nibbles, and then the starter, which was a trio of fish.  I chose not to have that, as really it didn't sound very nice, so I got offered, and accepted, ham hock terrine, which was lovely.  Then there was celeriac soup, but I declined that, too, and, having tasted the Swan Whisperer's, was rather glad I had as it didn't taste of anything much at all except a vague hint of cooked celery.  The main course was a 3-bird roast with a bit of partridge on the top (I wouldn't have known that was what it was, to be honest!), brussels sprout purée, red cabbage, roast parsnip and fondant potato.  It was very good, but I was so sleepy by then (I had fallen asleep between courses) that I didn't enjoy it as much as I would have done had I been wide awake.  Then there was a cheeseboard, and then pudding - an individual Christmas pudding with brandy custard, which was OK, but not the nicest (I gave half of mine to the SW), but also a bit of chocolate mousse cake, which was lush, and a scoop of cherry sorbet, ditto!  Then tea or coffee, if you wanted it, which I didn't, and a mince pie (I gave mine to the SW).  Our fare apparently included £24 worth of drinks, so we each ordered a glass of wine - red for him, rosé for me - some fizzy water and a fruit drink for him.  This was possibly a mistake, as we then didn't have a bill at the end, and those who did were taking the opportunity to tip the stewards quite heavily. 

By the time all this had happened, we were nearly at King's Cross, and after a lovely day, I was very tired indeed!  We were home just before 10:45 pm, after a lovely and memorable day!

The Great Central Lament

Yesterday was my 64th birthday, and the Swan Whisperer gave me the present of a Railtour, called the Great Central Lament.  He even splashed out for First Class Dining, and I am very glad he did, as, unlike on the Railtour we went on last November, there weren't any stops where food could be had.

We had to be at Finsbury Park for 7:49 am, so got up at silly o'clock and were away by 7:00.  Finsbury Park is NOT a user-friendly station, nothing but steps, firstly up from the Victoria Line to street level, and then more steps up to the Network Rail platforms.  My poor knees - and I was certainly not the oldest and lamest person on the tour, by a long way.

The train came in on time and we found our seats - an old Pullman carriage (built in 1956, I was told later)  - at a beautifully-laid table.

I was hungry by then, having only a cup of tea inside me, but they took a long time to serve breakfast, which was orange juice, the choice of porridge or fresh fruit with  yoghurt and almond slivers, then a Full English or scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, and tea and coffee, plus various rolls and toast, including a chocolate twist that I accidentally took the last one of.... so I shared it with the Swan Whisperer, and then he got another one so shared it with me.  It was really rather good.  He had the porridge, although I told him he wouldn't like it as it was sweetened and had fruit in it, but he said it was actually quite nice.  I had the fruit.  And we both had the Full English, although I declined the bubble-and-squeak and baked beans that came round later.

We had hoped we had the full four seat bay to ourselves, but were joined at Stevenage by a very nice couple - it was her birthday treat, too - and they were very knowledgeable about railways and so on, which was nice.  The route we went was as follows:

I expect you can read it if you click on the image to enlarge it.  We went up the West Coast Main Line as far as Peterborough, and then all through the wilds of the old Great Central Line, including some Network Rail test track.  We stopped at the closed station of Ollerton to stretch our legs.

When we got back on the train, lunch was ready - a baked potato with coleslaw and cheese, and tea or coffee if you wanted it (which I didn't, at that stage). 

The train rolled on throughout the afternoon, sometimes running late, sometimes making up the time and having to wait for itself.  We knitted (my seatmate and I did; the menfolk didn't!), dozed, and enjoyed watching the beautiful English countryside, truly at its best at this time of year, roll by.  There were some interesting rail depots, too. 

Dinner was served quite early, and was a bit of a marathon.  The first course was a choice of prawn skewers (which the Swan Whisperer chose as he doesn't get prawns at home) or Crème du Barry soup, which is a posh name for cream of cauliflower soup, and very good it was, too.  This was followed by roast pork with all sorts of vegetables and apple sauce.  I know there was cod on offer, too, but I don't know what, if anything, they supplied for vegetarians; it is possible there were none on the tour, but I think you had to say when booking if this was what you wanted.  Anyway, I didn't want, so that was all right.  Then there was a choice of sweet or savoury - we all had the sweet, which was a delicious lemon tart with a fresh berry compote and cream, yummy, and, just as you thought you couldn't eat another mouthful, there was the cheeseboard!  I didn't have much cheese, but a token amount.  And they very kindly found me some lemon to have in my tea - I had had rather a lot of coffee with breakfast and didn't want any more that day - so that was nice, too.  And chocolates, which would have been nicer had they been chilled, but you can't have everything....

Meanwhile the train rolled on; the tables were cleared and people dozed or chatted.  Our new friends got out at Stevenage, so we had the table to ourselves for the last half hour and could get our things together ready to get out when we got back to Finsbury Park.  And down all those stairs, then straight on to a Victoria Line train and so home.

It really was a lovely day.  Quite apart from the pleasure of being on a train - always enjoyable - it was very luxurious, and the views from the train windows of the English countryside (and of Sheffield, if you like views of Sheffield!) were magnificent.  Most people would have liked a second leg-stretch before dinner, though, and were sorry there was no opportunity for one.  But it was a lovely day.  England really is beautiful on a summer's day.

The Regency Javelin Tour

A few weeks ago, I was looking at railtours, like you do, and found this one, which was not too expensive, involved a Javelin train (okay, not so romantic as a steam train), and was on a day when we had nothing else planned.  So the Swan Whisperer bought tickets, and this morning we got up very early and made our way to St Pancras via the Victoria Line.  The train was waiting for us on the platform - when we finally found Platform 12, we discovered we had come a very long way round, but we had been able to buy a coffee at Costa en route.

Our seats were in either the first or the last carriage, depending on which way we were going!  And there were several route reversals during the day.  They gave us a printed itinerary, so we knew where we were and whether we were in time or not.

It was a very grey and dreary November day, with very little colour about.  As always, perhaps the nicest part of the journey was the Mid-Sussex line, aka the Arun Valley Line, which runs through the water-meadows of the Arun valley, and passes Arundel Castle.

But it was fun going out on HS1, which we have only ever done on Eurostars (I did once go between Stratford International and St Pancras on a Javelin, because I could, but it only takes 2 minutes or so....).  We went down via Rochester and Strood to Tonbridge, and then along the line to Redhill, and thence to the Arun Valley Line once we reached Three Bridges.  Then at Littlehampton it reversed again to go along the West Coastway line, which I know like the back of my hand, so not as interesting as it might have been....  However, instead of running straight into Brighton, it went up the Clifton Curve to Preston Park, and then down into Brighton from there - not sure where.  Brighton was basically lunch time - I'd brought sandwiches, and then we went and got the Swan Whisperer a coffee - and after it we headed off to Hastings, via Eastbourne (where we reversed again, only I'd fallen asleep by then, and missed it).  I think these semaphore signals were at Hastings:

After Hastings, we headed back to - I was going to say Birmingham by way of Bethnal Green - but back to St Pancras via places like Sevenoaks, St Mary Cray, and then Rochester again to rejoin HS1 at Ebbsfleet.  It was dark by then, of course, so one couldn't see much, and I was a bit stiff after sitting all day, but we had had plenty of opportunities to get up and move around and stretch, so it wasn't as bad as it might have been!

All in all, a very enjoyable day, and on-train sales, raffle tickets (no joy, of course) and a silent auction which I didn't participate in raised about £2,500 for the Royal British Legion.

But would somebody please tell me why it is easy to find the King's Cross exit from the Victoria Line platforms, very close to it, but utterly impossible to find the Victoria Line platforms from the King's Cross entrance?????  There seems to be a wormhole that means whatever way you go you have to walk down endless claustrophobia-inducing tunnels with horrible lighting.....

A Trip to Epping Forest

I like to browse the Londonist blog, and have found some useful excursions and potential excursions on it.  This entry came very tidy, as we tried to decide where to take the boys on the Thursday after Easter.  The Daughter confirmed that the Boys had never been to the Queen Elizabeth Hunting Lodge, and it was an easy bus ride from hers to Chingford Station, and the Hunting Lodge only a short walk from there.

 When we arrived, we were asked whether we'd booked, which we hadn't, and I wasn't sure that we were going to be welcomed.  But the receptionist handed out Tudor hats all round, although Boy Two didn't really fancy his and gave it back.  The rest of us wore them, though.

The ground floor had an exhibition of posh Tudor food - not actual food, but models thereof - and also the plainer food that most people would have enjoyed.  I wish the table had been six inches lower so the boys could have seen more, but, in the way of boys, they were not really interested until we were about to leave!  The middle floor has a selection of clothes that you could try on, but nothing to explain who had worn them, or why, or in what circumstances.  The top floor, although the barest, was arguably the most interesting as it showed you how the various beams were fitted together, and the various joints.  And there was a wooden model of a fallow deer, with some facts about it.  And a wonderful view!

When we went back downstairs (and the Boy asked questions about how to cook a fish eating its own tail), we were directed to the exhibition about Epping Forest across the yard, almost part of the Premier Inn/Brewers Fayre which now occupies the Royal Forest pub next door (a mock Tudor building that looks far more Tudor than its real neighbour).  This was more interesting, as you could press buttons to listen to the forest noises, but a lot of the exhibits were behind reflective glass and not easy to see, plus there was really too much writing.  The real hit was the map of Epping Forest on the floor of the visitor centre, which the Boy was fascinated by, and we showed him where he lived, and all sorts.  He is just of an age to learn about maps, now, and his reading level is such that he can work out place names and so on.

Then it was lunch time, so we decided to try the Butler's Retreat café the other side of the Hunting Lodge, which was very pleasant and friendly, but it would have helped if the only copy of the children's menu hadn't been pinned up at the very narrow entrance.  The boys both chose sausages - it might have been better to have ordered only one plate and shared it, as it was too much for Boy Two, but the Boy ate both his sausages and all his potato wedges.  Neither child touched a green pea!  I thought the Swan Whisperer's bacon roll looked dull compared to mine, which was halloumi, pickled red cabbage and lime/chilli mayonnaise, and absolutely lovely!  I also enjoyed my apple tart for pudding, but didn't much care for my bit of the Boy's red velvet cake (he ate some of it, but it was rather a huge helping!).

After our meal we walked down to the nearby pond to see what we could see - mallard, Canada geese and a coot or two - and then decided to cut across the open land back to the station, which was a slight failure as the Boy's shoes leaked and his feet got wet.  But we saw magpies and a crow - he is beginning to take an interest in birds, hence the lists!  And so on a bus back to the daughter's.

I think the first time I came across Epping Forest was when I read D L Sayers' "Have His Carcase" where a minor character is found murdered there!  And I knew the family enjoy occasional walks there, but I'd never been there, and had no idea what it was like.  The whole Lea and Rother Valley complex brings a huge chunk of the country right down into London; if you go by train from Liverpool Street to Walthamstow Central or Tottenham Hale you pass cattle grazing on the marshes....

Serendipitous Fire Engines

We had arranged to meet friends this afternoon at One New Change, the big shopping centre behind St Paul's Cathedral.  But yesterday, when I was browsing the Internet, I came across this article.  I did a bit of further research, and found that there would be vintage fire engines displayed outside St Paul's Cathedral during the afternoon, and then there would be a procession leaving from Dowgate Fire Station in the early evening.  So I promptly contacted my friends and said look what's happening, and, indeed, when we got there, they were busy looking at the fire engines outside St Paul's.

We had a splendid time looking round, and talking to the firefighters, who were dressed in vintage uniforms.  Several other people were also dressed in 1940s fashions - one woman's legs were covered in tattoos, which we didn't think was actually very authentic, but still!  I was reminded that this was how fire engines were, in my youth, when I was a little girl visiting my grandmother in London - they rushed about with bells ringing, and huge wheels on the back for the ladders.

When we had all had enough, we wandered back to One New Change and took the lifts up to the sixth floor, where there is a roof garden and wonderful views over London, especially of St Paul's - the lifts are designed so you see nothing but it as you go up!

Then it was getting dark, so we came away and walked down towards Dowgate Fire Station, stopping for a cup of tea en route.  On our way, all the fire engines drove past us, to much waving, going back to the fire station where they were joined by others - all privately owned and immaculately maintained - until 6:05 pm, at which point an air-raid warning was sounded.  Sadly, this could only be a hand-cranked siren, as they were afraid that people would be scared of the real thing, what with terrorist alerts and so on, but when it finished, the fire-engines all drove off, bells ringing madly, followed - and we thought this a lovely touch - by a modern engine bringing up the rear.

So we came away and took a 133 bus back to Brixton and then a 37 up the road, and I cooked dinner for us all.  It was a lovely afternoon out.

Totally Thames

This week we have been on two outings, both of which involved the river Thames.  On Wednesday, there was a flotilla of boats to celebrate the Queen's becoming the longest reigning British monarch ever, or, to put it bluntly, not being dead yet.  Tower Bridge was due to open at noon as a mark of respect, so we went up there on the Northern Line, and decided to watch from the middle of London Bridge.  This proved not very practical, as HMS Belfast had a friend visiting, so you actually got a better view from the far side of the bridge.

The Bridge duly opened and the flotilla - not a very impressive one - passed under it, and then under London Bridge. 

We were amazed how busy London River is these days - time was, you scarcely saw a boat on it, but this time, the flotilla was almost lost in the stream of barges, tourist boats and others that were going up and down stream.

After lunch in the nearest Prets (I do like their coffee!), we headed home on the bus.

Today's excursion was rather more exciting; it was organised by the Zoological Society of London, and was called "Thames Alive".  I'd seen this advertised on-line, and thought it looked interesting, so booked tickets for it.  These were free, it was basically a matter of signing up so they knew how many people to expect, and could limit numbers, if necessary.  I had received about three emails from them saying Not To Be Late, and we were a bit panicky as we needed to be there for 9:30 and Strand on the Green is quite some distance from here!  Citymapper suggested we pick up the train from Queenstown Road Station, which we hadn't done before (and I don't actually care if I don't do it again, as the platforms are very narrow, and even sitting down I felt slightly off-balance), and it turned out to be nearer the station than we'd thought, so we were there in plenty of time to put on wellies (me) or walking boots (the Swan Whisperer - he does own wellies but his, and my best pair, are in the motor home!) and gather on the Thames foreshore. 

The first thing was dipping, rather like pond dipping, to find out what sort of invertebrates there were - mostly freshwater shrimps, but also a couple of estuarine prawns, some leeches, etc, and probably loads of algae, etc. 

After this, some of the ZSL people went out in a boat to put out a seine net to see what sort of fish they would catch. 

These proved to be two or three varieties of rather small fish - apparently, it does depend on the time of year, and, of course, whether you are where it is more maritime or more fresh water.  But it was interesting.  The ZSL were disappointed not to have caught a flounder, as we had seen a cormorant eating one earlier, but as they had to trawl slightly further upstream than they'd anticipated, due to a fallen tree blocking the place they'd wanted, it's perhaps not too surprising. 

I'm not too sure what the purpose of the day was, other than to educate the interested public; there was no attempt to catalogue or count the specimens, which were just returned to their natural habitat.  I rather suspect it was to get volunteers for future surveys - apparently there is a lot of volunteer work to be done with the society.

So anyway, that was the end of that, and we came away to have a good wash and a coffee and croissant at the local Café Rouge - it proved more cost-effective to have their coffee-and-croissant option than to have either separately - before getting the train back from Kew Bridge.

Warwick and Coventry

Today marked the last day of our exile (the corridor looks very splendid indeed - the Swan Whisperer felt obliged to take his shoes off when he brought in the luggage), so we set off about noon and drove to Warwick.  We didn't get to see much of the town - the Castle wanted us to pay £6 just for parking, which we thought was extortionate - but we did find a very pretty little shopping street full of independent shops, and had lunch in one of them - a bacon (him) or sausage (me) sandwich with a fried egg.  Tasted good, but just a touch dry, we thought.  And extremely good coffee, and the most deliciously fudgey brownies!  Yum.

Then we drove on to Coventry to visit the Cathedral there, and to meet the Canon Pastor, whose blog is called Good In Parts.  She was busy, so we spent a very happy half hour wandering around the Cathedral and taking pictures

There will be more pictures on my Facebook page, for those who are friends there - these are just a sample.

When the Canon was able to join us, we wandered round the Ruins (always capitalised!) of the old Cathedral, and she explained that the idea was that you looked at the Ruins first, and then walked down the steps into the modern Cathedral, only you can't just now as there are Works going on to damp-proof the subterranean chapels, which are not currently accessible.  But the Ruins themselves are wonderful, and very evocative.  You will know, of course, of the Cross of Nails, which was formed from three mediaeval nails found in the bombed Cathedral and replicas of which have been sent all around the world (notably to Berlin, where we saw it in the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtnis church)

 

You can't see the nails so well in the Coventry version, but what they do have, even more moving, is the Charred Cross, which was formed from two burned roof-beams that happened to fall in the shape of a Cross, and were kept that way.

  Originally this was in the Ruins, but now it has been moved into the Cathedral proper, and the one in the Ruins is a replica.

 

I love the way they have done this - with the Ruins there as a memorial and the Cathedral itself there to the greater glory of God,  It is a symbol of peace and reconciliation, and it does a great job!