A Changing Life

Heritage, or an eyesore?

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 12:16:45 PST

From the East Kent Mercury

These towers, the Richborough cooling towers, have been part of the landscape in east Kent for about 50 years but now they are to be demolished.

They were built in the 1950s and started burning coal for the Kent collieries in 1962. Nine years later they were converted to burn oil, then later still to the experimental fuel, Orimulsion, derived from bitumen. Eventually, in 1996, the power station was decommissioned.

There have been arguments that they are part of our industrial heritage, a memorial to those who built it (13 died in the process), and one of the few things left from the east Kent mining heritage.

Probably the main argument for demolition has been that the site can be redeveloped and put to good use. Most people think they are an eyesore and because the land is so flat they can be seen for miles around.

I've always been quite surprised that nobody has ever shown any concern that they can be seen so clearly from the Roman fort of Richborough, the first Roman settlement in Britain. The surprise is that they were allowed to build them there in the first place but we were no doubt less concerned about heritage then.

On the other hand, English Heritage, the owners of Richborough Castle, made no objection to the demolition plans.

The towers will no longer be a blot on the landscape in a few weeks time.

The River's Tale by Rudyard Kipling

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 07:22:02 PST

The River's Tale (Prehistoric)

TWENTY bridges from Tower to Kew -
Wanted to know what the River knew,
Twenty Bridges or twenty-two,
For they were young, and the Thames was old
And this is the tale that River told:-

"I walk my beat before London Town,
Five hours up and seven down.
Up I go till I end my run
At Tide-end-town, which is Teddington.
Down I come with the mud in my hands
And plaster it over the Maplin Sands.
But I'd have you know that these waters of mine
Were once a branch of the River Rhine,
When hundreds of miles to the East I went
And England was joined to the Continent.

"I remember the bat-winged lizard-birds,
The Age of Ice and the mammoth herds,
And the giant tigers that stalked them down
Through Regent's Park into Camden Town.
And I remember like yesterday
The earliest Cockney who came my way,
When he pushed through the forest that lined the Strand,
With paint on his face and a club in his hand.
He was death to feather and fin and fur.
He trapped my beavers at Westminster.
He netted my salmon, he hunted my deer,
He killed my heron off Lambeth Pier.
He fought his neighbour with axes and swords,
Flint or bronze, at my upper fords,
While down at Greenwich, for slaves and tin,
The tall Phoenician ships stole in,
And North Sea war-boats, painted and gay,
Flashed like dragon-flies, Erith way;
And Norseman and Negro and Gaul and Greek
Drank with the Britons in Barking Creek,
And life was gay, and the world was new,
And I was a mile across at Kew!
But the Roman came with a heavy hand,
And bridged and roaded and ruled the land,
And the Roman left and the Danes blew in -
And that's where your history-books begin!"

A potted pre-history of the river Thames by Rudyard Kipling.

Blissful animal

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 08:55:29 PST

Found in a small village in the south of France. What more could any cat want, than to lie peacefully in the sun. This particular cat probably doesn't even require a food source.

A two-in-one post for the Photo Hunts.

The joy of circles

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 02:58:00 PST

Most of these photos seem to come from in and around churches or cathedrals and that probably reflects the joy I find in visiting these very often ancient buildings.

The bishop's gardens, le Jardin de la Berbie, in Albi with circular patterns described in boxwood hedges. This is how it would have looked from 1678. Everything is tended by hand, watering, pruning, weeding.

A circular window above an ancient door in an equally ancient church in the south of France.

A small gravestone behind a small church in England.

Circular panels in this stained glass window in a church in central France. The colours are so rich and vibrant.

The final picture possibly brings me most joy because I made the effort to go out very early on an autumn morning to catch this reflection while the mists were rising from the river and before any breezes ruffled the water.

A two-in-one post for the Photo Hunts.

Saint Omer

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 07:44:36 PST

On our regular route south, somewhere on the autoroute there is a large sign to "Historial de la Grande Guerre, Péronne, a museum devoted to the First World War. Every time we rush past I mention that we should really stop and visit one day. Eventually we decided we'd make a special trip and see some of the area, starting with St Omer because it has a cathedral, and I do like cathedrals. So off we set in the pouring rain...

When you reach the outskirts of a town there is invariably a sign welcoming you. Some are more decorative than others but they almost always tell you the names of any twin towns. I pay little attention unless I'm visiting somewhere new and then I do try to gauge what sort of a town it may be like. It doesn't always work. I know Burley in the New Forest is twinned with Beurlay in France presumably just because it sounds the same. As we approached St Omer I read out the twin towns:

Ypres (Belgium)
Detmold (Germany
Deal (United Kingdom)

Well that distracted me from the rain. I pass the sign going into Deal, possibly every week. How had I not noticed it was twinned with St Omer? And why were these two towns twinned?

This was the first time I'd visited rather than rushed through a town in the north of France and I was surprised at the difference in architecture. There is a noticeable Flemish influence. I shouldn't have been surprised because St Omer was once part of Spanish Flanders and the river that passes through is called the Aa, Old Dutch for water.

The town hall, rebuilt in the 1830s because the previous medieval building was falling down. We parked in this huge square and the rain stopped long enough for a walk around. A large proportion of the other cars were British and English speaking voices were all around. Maybe they were all from Deal.

Almost certainly the first World War is the connection. The Royal Flying Corps set up headquarters in St Omer in 1914. Practically every pilot will have known St Omer.

I suppose this place was taking advantage of the large numbers of British tourists, or maybe it was owned by British people. It's a shame they were allowed put in those modern dormer windows. The plaque on the wall says 1689.

Another lovely building, dating from 1786. This was once the bailiwick, the base for the bailiff who represented the king, in those days Louis XVI.

By the time we worked our way down to the river, the rain had re-started so I didn't take any photos, but this postcard does it justice. It is a very attractive part of town and very Dutch-looking. It just looked an awful lot greyer when I saw it.

Note the colour of the clouds. This was a junction of the Aa - two branches join together to continue as one towards the coast at Gravelines. The whole area is very flat and at one time very marshy. A malaria area. I took this picture thinking I was looking back at St Omer but I wasn't. According to a nearby notice, it was where the Canal d'Aire meets the River Lys. I wasn't entirely sure where that was ...

... but not too far from Belgium.

Branches of trees

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 07:36:52 PST

My second Photo Hunt post for this week because I failed to find a way to tie the themes together.

I love trees in the winter when you can see the shape of their branches clearly against the sky, especially beautiful at sunset..

Covered in snow they look beautiful too though - fairly fortunately for me - I haven't seen any like this at all this winter.

Sadly we've seen a lot of branches where they shouldn't be, in the river which has burst its banks and stayed high for the last month or so. Maybe the snow is preferable.

Bling

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 06:13:05 PST

I couldn't tie the two themes together this week so they each have a separate entry. My bling comes from the Czech Republic. It was everywhere! These pictures were taken nearly two years ago now, in Prague.

It was a bright and sunny morning ...

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 01:01:40 PST

... one day last week. An unusual event this winter, so to celebrate I decided a visit to Chauvigny was a good idea. The old part of Chauvigny was a medieval town which grew up on a high rocky outcrop overlooking the river Vienne. Uniquely, it had five different fortresses within the ramparts, along with an imposing church. The idea was to visit it and return via Saint Savin. By the the half way point, it was fairly clear that there was no bright and sunny morning in Chauvigny.

The top of the imposing church was lost in the mists.

As was the Château de Gouzon. Everywhere was deserted, probably because it was bitterly cold.

The Château baronial, they helpfully said on a nearby noticeboard, the least well preserved of the five fortresses. Preservation isn't a word I'd associate with this "château", at all.

I had a look at the much vaunted panorama over the town and river (I think the river was there).

I sat down to have a think but I was stone cold by this time and decided to go home, not stopping in Saint Savin for any length of time because it turned out to be shut. I'll return on a sunny day.

Ring out the old, ring in the new

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 03:27:18 PST

Ring out the old

Ring in the new

Ring out the false

Ring in the true

Wishing a very happy 2012 to all my friends wherever you may be.

Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. ~ Einstein

The bells are, left to right, top to bottom:
Town hall, Montpézat de Quercy
Above the tax centre, Moissac
Clock tower, Hay on Wye
Clock tower, Cessenon sur Orb
The rooftop of Saintes Maries de la Mer
Church bell tower, Chateauneuf-du-Pape

Gathering for drinks

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 05:58:36 PST

Wherever there are drinks on offer, you can be sure people will gather. This was taken at a flea market in a nearby town.

Here too, people are starting to gather to see what drinks are on offer. I was very early so perhaps that explains the small number of people.

Or maybe it was the rather murky looking drinks.

Finally, a more seasonal view seen in a shop window (as seen in an earlier post), with Santa gathering the reins, his lamp and a sack of presents while surrounded by all sorts of drinks. Rudolph was nowhere to be seen - maybe the drink was too much for him.

Neeps** and tatties

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 23:53:25 PST

Once upon a time fruit and vegetables would be bought from the greengrocer, meat from the butcher, and so on. Then came the supermarkets and changed all that. Although they fly all sorts in from every corner of the world, we've become used to a range of produce that's what they consider to be in demand. And in the supermarkets I frequent they seem to have little idea how to look after the produce.

That seems to be changing. I've noticed a new generation of greengrocers coming to life, both in the UK and in France. In both cases they are chains, but specialise mainly in fruit and vegetables. They are providing a good range and more importantly, everything in beautiful condition.

The French store stocks all sorts of unusual fruits and vegetables, so I had to investigate. They provided a leaflet, "Ancient and Forgotten Vegetables", to explain what do do with such delights as swedes (rutabaga) and parsnips (panais). "Swedes, well prepared with a cream sauce, will not fail to surprise you".

Horseradsish (raifort) can be used grated in place of mustard.

Some of these oddities really are odd. These are parsley root, looking remarkably like parsnips to me, but apparently more like turnip-rooted chervil and the flavour is more pungent.

If you don't fancy parsley roots or turnip rooted chervil, and I can't say that have an immediate attraction, maybe these "wild onions" would be more in your line. Their alternative name is lampascioni and it wasn't until I looked that up that I realised they have nothing to do with onions but are related to the hyacinth, grape hyacinths to be exact.

There were pages more but my final offering is "barbe de capucin", dandelion shoots, or better known in France as "pissenlit". In Italian they are piscialletto and the old English folk name is of course "piss-a-bed". I've never tried them either.

**Neeps and tatties are traditionally served with haggis. Neeps are turnips, that is the big yellow turnips called swedes in England, rutabaga in France.

Surprises in Toulouse

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 06:13:50 PST

I thought after a long, long break, I ought to get back to hunting for photos. I was very surprised to find there are now two versions so I've hastily added in another surprise, one of several that I found in Toulouse in the south of France.

This first is a double surprise - it isn't a picture of Toulouse but of Montpellier. My surprise was that the Christmas lights in Montpellier were more striking than the lights in Toulouse (see my previous post). Toulouse is much the bigger city so I was expecting more or maybe expecting too much.

My next surprise was that the beautiful Chapelle des Carmélites is used for exhibitions like this one about Vietnam:

The boards displaying admittedly interesting information really spoilt the feel of the place for me, not to mention making taking photos very difficult. The walls and ceiling are covered in wonderful 17th and 18th century frescoes. This is all that remains of the convent, the rest having been destroyed during the French Revolution.

The next surprise was at the Basilica of St Sernin which is one of the important stops for pilgrims on their way to Santiago de Compostela. Mildly surprised to find it's built of red brick but more surprised to find ...

... the building completely surrounded by a flea market where you could probably buy, I think, absolutely anything at all.

My final surprise came at the Canal du Midi.

Here I was surprised by the trees. Bearing in mind that this was taken in mid-December, I was surprised how many leaves were still on the trees. Presumably it's down to the fact that it has been an unusually mild autumn and winter.

In truth there were many more surprises in Toulouse (and many more lights in Montpelier) but this is long enough now. Happy hunting to all!

Toulouse had a Christmas market too

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 14:18:27 PST

And as you can see, the stalls were the same again. It was much, much busier. Toulouse as a whole was much, much busier than Montpellier but I suppose it's to be expected in the fourth largest city in France after Paris, Marseille and Lyon.

It was in the Place de la Capitole, a huge open expanse opposite the Capitole, the town hall.

I arrived just as the sun was setting and lighting up the Capitole with the last rays. There is a passage through the Capitole building which was being used to display scenes from a fairground or circus, perhaps from the 19th century.

I couldn't quite work out what they were for because they weren't really in the Christmas spirit. So true to life as to be vaguely unsettling. The words on what I suppose is a caravan are, "Montreur d'animaux savants", "Exhibitor of animals".

By the time I'd finished looking at the spooky sideshows (with sound effects) the lights were starting to come on outside.

Most of the stalls seemed to be food-related, or at least those were the ones I noticed. I must have been feeling hungry by this time.

Montpellier Christmas market

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 13:52:59 PST

I don't know how often I've been to Montpellier in the south of France, but it must be approaching half a dozen times. It has always been a convenient stopping off point on our way south. I know I've been shown around by a friend who lives nearby at least twice but as far as I can tell, I've never taken any photos.

Often the excuse is that it's dark or at least dusk by the time we arrive, as it was this time, not usually the best time for photos. However this time there was the Christmas market in the Place de la Comédie, opposite the Opera House and right down towards the tree-lined Allée Paul Boulet.

I'm prepared to believe that Christmas markets hire out the same "chalets" to everyone and then pass them on to the next market - except of course that they all want them at the same time. These do look very similar to the ones I saw in Winchester in 2007! How time flies when you're enjoying yourself.

Cuddly toys.

One very bored little girl.

She would probably prefer a ride on the merry-go-round. This is in the Place de la Comédie all the time, if I remember rightly. Nobody riding it yet.

Nobody wanting the Santa outfits either.

But there were customers at the many "vins chauds" stalls. I didn't sample any but I imagine it's much the same as mulled wine or Glühwein. There are regional variations but usually it's red wine heated with spices and sometimes sugar added.

Hot chestnuts, too, seemed very popular though I think the wine was the main draw.

And all around were beautiful lights and decorations, very hard to capture the effect in a photo. Some, most really, were stunning. The Opera House was draped in what can only be described as rivers of tiny lights.

Next time I go to Montpellier, I will make a special effort to take go around the old part of this beautiful city - and this time take photos. I can't understand why I haven't done so before.

Grey is the new red

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 12:15:00 PST

As I wandered around town the other day, I suddenly noticed that the Father Christmases (or should that be Fathers Christmas?) were dressed in grey. When did this new fashion start? Have I been missing something.

Wine seller

Optician

Pharmacy

I also see they are all wearing spectacles. The first one I noticed was the one in the optician's window and I thought they were being clever. Then the wine seller had his Father Christmas surrounded by bottles, fair enough, but I started to worry when I got to the pharmacy. However the worry was unecessary and he was clutching his skis.

I don't know where this fashion for grey came from. Whatever next? Grey berries on the holly?

Still rising

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 17 Dec 2011 06:00:41 PST

Worse than dreich. After a week of frquent showers it rained for 36 hours continuously. It has been worse but there is more rain forecast. No walk for me today.

I remember the floods of 2008 but, after looking at the graph, I'm very glad to have missed 1960. It all looks very interesting from a certain distance but get a little closer and the power of the water rushing past is quite frightening.

Let loneliness caress you

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sun, 11 Dec 2011 07:42:27 PST

Copied from the comments in A Postcard a Day where it was languishing without enough notice, contributed by soubriquet of Grit in the Gears.

Go to the forest
Go to the mountains
Go to the far off sea
Let loneliness
Caress you
Until your skin is thin enough
So thin that your heart
Sees me through it
That I was the one
Who caressed you,
Who caresses you
Go, go.

~Tommy Tabermann
Originally written in Finnish

Reflections on my river

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 06:59:10 PST

"My" river I call it, the place I go to think. In some ways it's always the same - a dependable presence - but in other ways constantly changing. I was looking for an AA Milne quote about leaning from a bridge and came across quite a few other that appealed to me. Some very apt, others just made me smile.

"Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known."
~ AA Milne

"Sit by a river. Find peace and meaning in the rhythm of the lifeblood of the Earth."
~Author Unknown

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."
~ Heraclitus

"The logs of wood which move down the river together are driven apart by every wave. Such inevitable parting Should not be the cause of misery."
~ Nagarjuna

"Between flattery and admiration there often flows a river of contempt."
~ Minna Antrim

" 'The River Styx,' Annabeth murmured. 'It's so...'
'Polluted,' Charon said. 'For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across - hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."
~ Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief

"Our trouble is that we drink too much tea. I see in this the slow revenge of the Orient, which has diverted the Yellow River down our throats."
~ J B Priestley

"Denial is much more then an Egyptian River."
~ Mark Twain

Turbulent times

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 14:05:00 PST

I am sailing, I am sailing.
home again, 'cross the sea.
I am sailing stormy waters
To be near you, to be free

The Weekend in Black and White

St Augustine's Abbey, Canterbury

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 04:17:25 PST

It seems unclear why exactly St Augustine came to England - was he sent by Pope Gregory I or was he invited by Aethelberht? In the end it doesn't seem to matter because there are traces of his presence all over the south east of England.

He arrived near the Roman fort of Richborough where you can see remains of a Saxon chapel dedicated to him, but it was just outside the city walls of Canterbury where he founded the monastery that later became St Augustine's Abbey, on the site of three Saxon churches, St Peter and St Paul, St Pancras, and St Mary, some of which can still be seen.

The remains of the chapel foundations at Richborough Castle

Unfortunately remains as old as this tend not to be terribly eye-catching and it's usually the history surrounding them that is more interesting. If you aren't so interested in history it looks much like many others. "Is this going to be more ruins?", is a question I'm often asked.

The Abbey in Canterbury is, admittedly, a lot more ruins but possibly enough of them remain to be a little more interesting. It's hard to believe though that once is was a similar size to Canterbury Cathedral.

The site as it is today, cathedral in the background

A hexagonal tower that was never completed. It was intended to link the Saxon church of St Peter and St Paul with the chapel of St Mary.

Part of the crypt

Eventually the Abbey became part of Henry VIII's Dissolution of the Monasteries. In the first round of dissolution, monasteries with an income of less than £100 were targeted. St Augustine's escaped at that time but it didn't escape the second round. It was dismantled and many of the stones were transported for use elsewhere. It was such a large site it took about 20 years to complete the process.

Part of the site was kept and remodelled so that Anne of Cleves could use it as a royal palace though apparently not very often.

Walls of the Royal Palace

Later, in the early 17th century, John Tradescant the Elder laid out formal gardens and mazes over the ruins of the Abbey which he had covered with soil. John Tradescant was a great traveller, gardener and naturalist, as was his son - both featured in Philippa Gregory novels.

It's fairly remarkable that so much of the Abbey has remained. Later on the site was used for a brewery then the Kent & Canterbury Hospital. It wasn't until the hospital moved to a new and larger site that excavations could reveal as much as we have today.

St Martin's graveyard

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 26 Nov 2011 14:26:06 PST

The graveyard of St Martin's church is on a hillside so quite a few of the graves have tilted over the years. The church is the oldest church in continuous use in the English speaking world, dating back to Roman times. As a result, I suppose, the graveyard is one of the most populated I have ever seen. These ones were on a fairly steep slope and under trees.

The Weekend in Black and White

Remember

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sat, 12 Nov 2011 12:32:32 PST

Taken in the Somme, in northern France this year. Graves of soldiers, casualties during the First World War, the war to end all wars.

The Weekend in Black and White

Aeroplanes in odd places

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 09:47:38 PDT

Sometimes I'm going along in a bus and I spot a view from the window and wish I had my camera at the ready, or even with me, but the moment passes and so does the view. The picture above is one of those views that I've been wishing about for a long time. That aeroplane never seems to move. But the bus does and the driver won't stop.

Then there was a traffic jam. I took out the trusty camera. And there you have it - Kent International Airport. Truly.

This one I've been waiting for for years and it's still not quite right. When I used to be designated driver on airport duty would see aeroplanes perfectly parked waiting for a photo opportunity. Those were the days before I had a digital camera and besides, I was driving.

Then, last month I got it, almost. If the driver had obeyed entreaties to go faster and stay in the middle lane it might have been perfect. So there you have it, Charles de Gaulle Airport taxiway crossing the autoroute A1 just outside Paris, with a plane on it.

Not quite self-sufficiency

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 03:43:46 PDT

This year has been the most amazing year for fruit. With absolutely no attention from me, my little garden has produced a super-abundance.

The tomato plants ran riot, not so much climbing as crawling, but still giving me more fruit than I can eat. Tomato soup recipes are being consulted daily.

The grapes came early but there were plenty for the birds. There's supposed to be a black grape vine too but it may have been overwhelmed by the green. Their primary purpose is to provide shade for the sitting out area so I shouldn't complain.

The pears have been as good as they always are. I have no idea what to do to keep them in good order, so they look after themselves and make a good job of it. I won't interfere.

And this little fellow comes harvesting daily. Usually he's too fast for me but I managed to get a couple of pictures, blurry but...

At the moment he's more interested in the neighbour's walnut tree. The walnuts are as big as his head but he still manages to run like the wind carrying one in his mouth. I think he was planning to hide it in my garden until he thought I was paying too much attention. So off he ran.

Argenton sur Creuse

noreply@blogger.com (A.) — Sun, 25 Sep 2011 13:12:55 PDT

Argenton lies on the river Creuse in the centre of France. It has two and a half bridges: one old, one new, and one ruined. The ruined one is probably not even a half because you can't see it if the river is high.

The old bridge

The old bridge was built in the Middle Ages when the old town spread from the hill on the left bank to the right. Traffic still uses it.

The new bridge

The new bridge doesn't have a great deal going for it apart from reflections in the river. It does offer some lovely views of the riverside houses.

Right bank

Argenton is occasionally referred to as the Venice of the Berry region, a French region pre-dating the current ones, but that seems something of a stretch. However, I can't deny the houses are picturesque. The church in the background is St Saveur. The origins of St Saveur probably date to the 13th century but the bell tower you can see is much more recent.

Left bank

On the opposite side is the hill where the oldest part of the town lies. The nearest church is the 15-16th century Chapelle Saint Benoit, now an exhibition centre. At the top of the hill is a massive statue of La Bonne Dame above a chapel of the same name, built on the remains of a 2nd century sanctuary. The Bonne Dame d'Argenton is revered as having protected the town from the plague in 1632.

The banks of the river are lined with old buildings and mills because Argenton's prosperity grew in the 13th century from flour mills and especially bark mills right up until the 19th century. Bark mills, I had to look it up, are mills that grind up parts of trees into a fine powder used to tan leather.

This mill, shown from two different directions, has been converted into at least two homes as far as I could see.

A 15th century manor house or mansion, hôtel particulier Duperthuis, one of the first in the lower town. I hope nobody was at home when I peered through the gate to take the picture. It looks all shuttered up.

A disused mill wheel on the opposite bank.

Some other riverside houses. And finally, a last look at the old bridge.