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....

An afternoon on the South Bank

We had intended to start off today's outing by going up to Tower Bridge to listen to a 61-gun salute that was due to start at 1:00 pm.  Unfortunately, we were a bit late and only heard the last two blasts, "But if you've heard one, you've heard them all!" said the Swan Whisperer. 

You know, I'm sure HMS Belfast is further away from the bank than it used to be - it seems to be moored right out in the middle of the river, and does block your view of things!  But we did manage to see across the river to the Tower, where everything was obviously over, so we turned round to walk along the South Bank. 

I had suggested we had lunch in the Prets in Clink Street, but the Swan Whisperer wanted to try the restaurant at Southwark Cathedral.  Which was okay, but I'd rather have had a sandwich, and the loos were out of service and, although there was a disabled loo, you had to ask for the key.  Which, to be fair, they did provide.  And their brownies were lovely and fudgey. 

After this we continued along the South Bank, past the Clink Prison, under Southwark Bridge, past Shakespeare's Globe, past the Tate Modern, past the Bankside Gallery and the Founders Arms pub (one of the first places the Swan Whisperer bought me a meal back in the early days of our marriage), under Blackfriars railway and road bridges and so to Oxo Tower Wharf. 

We were there to see this exhibition, a photo essay on a year in the life of a London priest.  It was fabulous - many of the photos were very moving.  The priest in question, Kit Gunasekera, is the vicar of St James, Clapham Park, just round the corner from us, and a friend of ours is an unpaid minister there, too.  We were delighted to see him and his wife featuring in several of the photos, including one where they were centre stage as they had been celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary.   The photographer, who was there, insisted on taking our photo in front of this picture:

I look a bit laden (and fat!).  Anyway, we chatted to him, and to the curator, and enjoyed looking at the pictures and reading up about what had motivated him and so on.  The best bit was that due to working on this project, he and his wife are now staunch members of St James, having not been churchgoers before!  God is amazing sometimes!

When we had finally had enough, we came away and walked on, past Jubilee Gardens and Gabriel's Wharf, and past the National Theatre until we came to Waterloo Bridge, where we climbed the steps up on to the bridge and caught a 59 bus home!

The exhibition is on until 20 March, and if you are in London it is well worth going to see.  Admission is free.

Trains and Trees

It being the Friday of half-term, we were, as we have often been, on grandparent duty.  The smaller boy is happily ensconced at nursery, so it was the 5½-year-old Boy who was our responsibility for the day.

When we said goodbye to him on Thursday evening, we had quite thought that we would be taking him to the South Bank to see what, if anything, was going on there that he might enjoy.  However, a couple of serendipitous posts that I found on-line changed everything.

The first was the news that "Princess", an engine from the Ffestiniog Railway, was visiting King's Cross Station as part of a publicity campaign for the said Railway.  So that was a no-brainer in itself!  We picked the Boy up from Senate House and caught a bus up to King's Cross, where, sure enough, the train was parked.  And a magnet for five-year-olds, it would seem..... plenty of other children clambering about all over it.  Mind you, some 65-year-olds did their fair share of clambering!

When we had finally had enough, we went over to Prets and bought some lunch, and then caught two buses down to Brockwell Park - with hindsight, we should have caught the 73 that came along, and then changed at Victoria, as we had to wait rather longer than we had thought for a 59.  Still, we got on one in the end.

The reason we wanted to go to Brockwell Park was that the London Wildlife Trust was planting trees there today.  So after using the facilities and eating our lunch, we headed down to that corner of the Park, and there they were.  The Swan Whisperer and the Boy promptly got stuck in, and I am delighted to say the Boy was fascinated by the whole process, and the different kinds of trees, and how these twig-like things were going to grow into huge trees, and so on.  You dug a hole (the Swan Whisperer did that)

and then put some woodchip in the bottom, put your tree in, and someone held it upright (usually the Boy) while you put the soil and grass back in,

and then you added some more woodchip on the top (me or the Boy, but mostly him), and finished it off with a plastic tube to deter rabbits, squirrels, etc.

Great fun, and they must have planted four or five trees in all before we came away home and ate ice-cream!  Maybe in 60 years time he will be bringing his grandsons to the park and showing them the trees he helped to plant today!

Cousins' Tour, Days 8 and 9

On Saturday it rained.  And rained.  And rained.  We had a "free day" in the rally, but the only time I left the van was to go shopping.  I knew my mother was going, so texted her and asked for a lift, and she agreed to pick me up at about 09:30, which she duly did.  We decided to go to Sainsbury's, since the parking there is underground and you don't have to get wet!

When we were done, she dropped me back at the Village Hall, and I went back to the van, where I regret to say I snuggled up in bed and didn't really move for the rest of the day, other than getting lunch!  The Swan Whisperer did go out for a long walk with my parents' dog, but he, too, spent much of the day hibernating.  However, in the evening there was a dinner-dance in the Village Hall, with entertainment provided by one of their own.  It could have been dire, but in fact it was absolutely lovely!  You bring your own plates, knives, forks, etc, and wash them up afterwards, and of course you bring your own drink.  As we had only one glass of wine left in our bottle, my mother sent down another random half-bottle she had, although really, we'd have been happy with the one glass!  We have masses of wine in London; it was just that we'd forgotten to bring it with us.  The singer, whose professional name is Mr Solo, had a really lovely voice - it almost seemed a shame to waste it on the 1960s disco classics that people our age love, and dance to.

I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to get the Swan Whisperer on to the dance floor - he is happy enough to dance on ice, but not so good on a floor.  However, one of the songs was "Show me the way to Amarillo", which we did a free dance to many years ago, and I said if he could dance to it on ice, he could on a floor.  So he did!  Actually, it didn't matter that much; one could dance without a partner, and some of the women did.  But it's always nicer to dance with a partner, whether on ice or on the floor....

The evening finished at about 11:30 pm and we went straight to bed.  This morning was cold, but we had obviously had the heating on too much over the previous days, as we nearly ran out of gas!  The boiler said firmly that the pressure was too low, but luckily the bath-water was hot, and there was enough gas to boil a kettle for coffee and to cook an omelette for breakfast, although I decided against risking boiling our eggs. 

At 11:00 they had the final meeting of the rally, which was basically notices and thank-yous, and then it was time to pack up and get going.  The Swan Whisperer brought the car down to the Village Hall, and we packed it all up, and then I drove it up to my parents' place, while he drove the van and put it away.  We then went off to try to find some gas, which we didn't succeed in doing (that is not a problem, we'll find some in London), and bought a sandwich, which we ate in a lay-by on Long Furlong, looking over the Downs.  We were trying not to impinge on lunch at my parents', where my sister and brother-in-law were putting up their greenhouse; unfortunately when we arrived they hadn't started yet as they'd gone out to get a Vital Part.  So we sat and chatted to them while they ate, and then my father and I dozed in front of the rugby while the SW took the dog out for a last walk, the greenhouse got built, and my mother pottered around....  and then we came back to London, and the end of another holiday! 

Cousins Tour, Day 7

I forgot to mention that Thursday night was wonderful, as there were owls!   I remember hearing them in my childhood, but hardly ever since. 

On Friday, we took my parents to Hayling Island, as planned. It is about an hour's drive from their home along the A27. I hadn't been there for many years and had no memory of it.

You reach it over a permanent causeway across part of Chichester Harbour.  It is mostly villas and static caravans, of course, as it is a seaside town.  However, unlike most such, you can park right next to the sea, which we did. There were three oil tankers in sight, but they did not move at all while we were there, and we think they must have been moored.  At one stage, another ship came out of Portsmouth Harbour and went off across the horizon.

And, of course, we enjoyed people-watching and people walking their dogs along the beach.  The Swan Whisperer went for a couple of brief walks - we had left my parents' dog at home as he doesn't find the van very comfortable. 

Then he drove us home while all three of us went to sleep!

We dropped off my parents and then went to the village hall, where the West Sussex branch of the Caravan Club are holding a rally.  We haven't done a rally before, and I don't suppose we'll often do one, but it will be a good thing to take The Boy to in August. We parked up and got comfortable, and after dinner went into the village hall and met people and chatted until bedtime.

Cousins Tour, Day 6

It was a cold and frosty morning to wake up to. I stuck my nose out of the duvet and promptly turned the heater on!

We breakfasted in the cafe again, delicious, and then set off to visit a cousin in Winterslow, near Salisbury.

It was a lovely drive. It was frosty, and in some places the hedges were absolutely covered with ice, which, we realised, was because they were immediately above a large puddle, and the cars going through had splashed them! Mostly the drive was in sunshine, but there were some patches of mist over Salisbury Plain.

The cousin we were calling on is a "double" cousin, in that her father and my grandfather were brothers, and her mother and my grandmother were first cousins. I was her bridesmaids, and we celebrated their Golden Wedding on the day my first grandson was born. Unfortunately she thought it was tomorrow we were coming, but it got sorted out in the end and we enjoyed a cup of coffee with them before heading on to Sussex.

First port of call was the supermarket, to get food, as we had invited my parents to dinner in the van.  Then up to their, where we are parked up in their forecourt. We had tea with them and a friend of theirs who is celebrating her 90th birthday today, and then went back to the van. Supper was duck breast, with an onion and mushroom sauce, mashed potato and cabbage and leek. It would have been followed by a lemon tart, but we didn't have room!  And wine - even my parents drank some - and coffee or tisane, according to taste.

Tomorrow we will be parked up by the village hall, to see what a rally is like - I may not have any signal at all, as there's no phone signal here and I'm on Wi-Fi.  If not, I'll be back Sunday night!

Cousins Tour, Day 5

Today was our last morning at Carnon Downs, so after a leisurely breakfast we topped up our water, both tank and drinking, and headed off. We were due in Plymouth at 3:00, so went a scenic route via King Harry's Ferry, St Just* and St Mawes.

We then drove to Plymouth, after an argument with the Satnav, which wanted to take us on minor roads, stopping for lunch in one of those lay-bys that had obviously been made when the road was straightened.

We eventually found the pub in Plymouth where we had arranged to meet an old school friend of my daughter's, which we duly did, and it was lovely to see her and catch up on her news.  It transpired, incidentally, that she had had her wedding reception in the same pub we'd eaten in last night. What a small world!

Then it was on back to the Cartgate truck stop where we had sadly spent our first night with no running water and no alternator!  Apart from having to change our gas bottle, it was so different! And we even got to see the International Space Station go overhead, thanks to a timely heads-up from Facebook!

* There was a young lad from St Just
Who ate apple pie 'til he bust.
It wasn't the fru-it
That caused him to do it;
What finished him off was the crust.