Those who know Jeanette well will not be surprised when I tell you that she has a fondness for old fossils. Well she is married to one for starters. And today she wanted to go to the Museum of Natural History and check out a few more.

While the forecast had it raining later in the day, this morning was a beautiful gentle English summer’s day. Speaking of Englishness, Jeanette and I are convinced that the last English residents must have departed this area sometime between our last visit and our current one. Cromwell Road now teems with cafes with middle eastern types sitting out the front smoking hookah pipes and this morning at breakfast I could not  convey to our waitress that what I actually wanted was two pieces of toast as opposed to two individual serves of toast.

I fear at this rate, on our next visit here we will have need of an interpreter but I am unsure in what language. But I digress. We walked down Cromwell Road to the Museum in the beautiful sunshine. 

Despite being only a few minutes past opening time, there was a sizeable queue but we were in quickly enough and had great fun looking at the fossils and learning about volcanoes and the history of the development of the world and life on earth.

We also got to admire some of the work of an amazing 19th Century lady by the name of Mary Anning  who used to make her living finding fossils from the cliffs around Lyme Regis known as the Jurassic Coast and selling her finds. The work of a fossil collector here is somewhat hazardous as the cliffs there are continually being eroded away by the seas, particularly after large storms and the collector needs to move quickly to identify and collect a specimen before it is washed away into the sea. She managed to find two previously unknown species of dinosaurs and you can see from one of her specimens in this photograph she worked on some pretty big finds.

Jeanette headed on to Harrods and I back to the hotel . We met up for a late lunch and then both went down to the Laundromat together to get our washing up to date for the next leg of our trip.

Dinner tonight was at Steak and Co which is one of those ‘cook your steak on a hot rock at the table’ places. Food was good and it is incredibly popular but you only have a tiny table on which to juggle your plates, two very hot lumps of rock, drinks, salads etc so to avoid second degree burns you really need to keep your wits about you at all times.

This morning we headed off on the tube to Leicester Square to see what the half price ticket booth had available. After some debate what show we would see we settled on Motown the Musical. We got our tickets just as the rain was starting to fall so we headed into a quaint nearby pub and had a cup of coffee. 

Back to home base where I had the afternoon off and Jeanette headed off to a display of some of Princess Diana’s wardrobe which she can tell you about –

While Brian put his feet up I headed off to Kensington Palace to see the exhibition currently running there, Diana – Her Fashion Story. There were six rooms of glass cabinets containing many of her clothes that we remember her wearing, including the very feminine soft pink suit she wore as her ‘going away’ outfit and the tweed suit she was photographed wearing in the first days of her honeymoon with Charles in Scotland. There were examples of her fashion choices from her ‘shy Di’ early days through to the end of her life when she had become a very sophisticated wearer of fashion.

As well as wandering through the King’s and Queen’s State Apartments from the 1690s (King William III and Queen Mary II) and 1700s (George II and Queen Caroline), and the Queen Victoria exhibits of her childhood years, I also took the opportunity to enjoy the gardens, which we had been denied at Buckingham Palace due to the bad weather. The Sunken Garden was a favourite of Diana’s and she often stopped by there to chat to the gardeners and ask the about what they were planting.

In the evening we caught the tube down to Holborn Station and walked down to find the Shaftesbury Theatre. Once we had determined its location, we had a wander down a side street and found a quaint Italian restaurant for dinner.

This seems to be a rougher end of London and there were homeless and drug users in the doorways along the street so we were a bit more on alert than normal.

The musical was ok. The scariest moment was at the end when the cast encouraged the audience to get up and dance. We were in the balcony and I could feel the floor moving under my feet. No reflection on the Motown sound of which I am rather fond, but given the recent history of balconies collapsing in London theatres I was rather relieved when the performance ended.

Not much in the way of photos today for two main reasons. Firstly it was pouring rain all day and my camera is not weatherproof. Secondly, today was the day we got to do a tour of the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace and photography was not permitted.

We left our hotel at 10:00 am and got to the Palace around 20 minutes later. There was a large crowd standing in the pouring rain on the footpath. We determined we were supposed to go in Gate C so got in this really long queue to Gate C. By the time we had moved forward about half the length of the queue we came across this very smartly dressed young male official who told us that this queue was only for the half past ten tickets. Ours were for 11 o’clock so we got tossed out of the queue.

We waited till after 10:30 then rejoined the queue which now stretched around the corner and out of sight. By the time we had got forward to the halfway point again, we encountered another smartly dressed official who told us that the queue was only 10:45 tickets and we got tossed out of the queue again.

On the third attempt we actually made it past the official and after going through airline style security checks we were in the Palace. I really can’t start to describe all the amazing sights we saw. Everyone was issued with audio guides at no additional cost. The crowds were kept to manageable sizes so the areas were not overcrowded and you could get to see everything. Lots of friendly smartly turned out young staff in Palace uniforms were on hand on every step of the way.

The works of art on display were mind blowing. There were several beautiful Rembrandts and  in addition a great surprise for me was  Vermeer’s The Music Lesson. I have always had a fondness for that painting so it was a great thrill to see the original.

The tour lasted two hours as we passed through all the State rooms. After that we had lunch in a cafe that had been set up in a marquee in the grounds at the rear of the Palace. We finally exited the Palace via a half mile walk through the gardens at the rear of the Palace. This photo is looking back at the Palace with the lunch marquee as we were exiting through the Palace gardens.

This was a fabulous experience and one not to be missed if you ever get the chance. The history embedded in this building is truly awesome.

We next headed down to Oxford Street for a bit of shopping, then as the rain increased in intensity, retreated back to our hotel.

Up early we had breakfast at 6:30am then caught the tube across town to Victoria Station and walked up to the Victoria Coach Station to catch our bus for a tour of Highclere Castle (AKA Downton Abbey). If you have never been to the Victoria Coach Station then count yourself fortunate and try to arrange your future affairs so you never have to. Suffice to say it is hot, stuffy, dirty, crowded and badly designed (and those are its good features ).

Anyway we managed to board our bus and headed off. First stop of the tour was at Oxford. First off we admired Christoper Wren’s first foray into Architecture.

We then checked out the Bodleian Library.

Then we walked down to Christ Church College, via the kissing gate which will only let one person or two very friendly people through at the one time.

We did a tour of Christ Church College which was originally founded by Cardinal Wolsey as Cardinal College but when he fell out of favour with the King, Henry the Eighth re-founded it as Christ Church College. We came into Christ Church from the back of the college, the facade of which reminded us very much of Queen’s College at Melbourne Uni.

One of it’s current claims to fame is that its dining hall served as the model for the Hogwarts dining hall. We saw a funny sight as we were passing through here. Two Chinese guys doing the tour ahead of us pulled over to the side, whipped academic gowns out of their backpacks, put them on then photographed one another sitting at the dining table. I suspect that there was a bit of resume padding going on.

The College chapel is famous for its stained glass record of St Thomas a’Becket being done in by four knights.

After coming out of Christ Church by a different and unfamiliar exit and getting totally lost, we were a couple of minutes late getting back to our bus but fortunately four other people got lost more comprehensively than we did.

The next stopping point on the tour was the village of Bampton, location of several locations used in Downton Abbey, including the Church and Mrs Crawley’s home.

Then on to the main event of the day, Highclere Castle. While there have been significant buildings on this site for over a thousand years this current structure is relatively recent and dates from the 19th Century. Photos were not permitted inside unfortunately but Jeanette was very happy checking out all the rooms used in the TV series. 

While it was a magnificent structure full of magnificent artworks and set in magnificent grounds designed by Capabilty Brown, the interior of the place looked as if there had not been a cent spent on its upkeep in the past fifty years.

The carpets were worn and threadbare, the lounges in the smoking room would definitely be left if you put them out on the sidewalk, and leaking from the roof was causing the magnificent wall coverings in the Saloon to bubble and peel off. With a 16 pound per person entrance fee, a car park full of tourists, two cafes and a gift shop going flat out, it must be turning a few quid every day. It just doesn’t seem to be being spent on the Castle. Still it was a fabulous day out and I would thoroughly recommend a visit here to anyone..

Today mostly involved sitting on the bus and covering the miles back to London.

We had one quick photo stop at a thatched roofed village and we whistled by a monument to Thomas Hardy which I didn’t photograph as I misheard the guide and thought it was for the author who I recall my Grandmother being rather down on, but after it had vanished from sight it turned out to be in honour the Admiral Thomas Masterman Hardy and I was rather downcast at having missed it.

Around lunchtime we stopped at Salisbury and checked out the Catherdral . It was a  magnificent structure claiming the highest spire in England. Unfortunately it had been blighted by commercialism with its cloisters turned into fast food restaurant eating areas and wildly jarring modern art pieces inserted in various locations.

On the plus side, the Cathedral held the oldest, still operating clock in the world. It doesn’t have a clock face but chimes out the hours on a bell.

The Cathedral’s lovely Chapter House held another fascinating artefact. This was one of the last  four original copies still in existence of the Magna Carta. The copy is reputed to be in the best condition and I can testify that it is in pretty good nick. The writing is small and perfectly uniform across the whole document and I could not understand a word of it. Fortunately there was a translation to hand. Photography unfortunately was not permitted.

 Back on the bus we finally arrived in London around 5pm. Our guide and driver very kindly made a special stop for us near our hotel which was a real blessing as we did not have to fight our way across London at peak period with all our luggage.

Our first stop of the morning was the little coastal village of Polperro. It showcased all the usual features of a small Cornish fishing village: winding narrow streets, tiny quaint houses and aggressive seagulls.  One unique feature was a very interesting little museum on the maritime history of the village which seemed to revolve mainly around smuggling and pilchard fishing.

 Apparently a favourite spot for hiding the smuggled goods was in the church yard. This practice was aided by the Vicar who was thought by the authorities to be slightly unhinged for what they believed to be his practice of carrying out night exorcisms in the church yard . This was in fact him relocating smuggled goods.

We then said a fond farewell to Cornwall and headed into Devon stopping at the Abbey of Buckfast. This is a currently operating Benedictine monastery which amongst other things produces a caffeinated fortified wine tonic called “Buckfast” which somewhat unfortunately has gained a considerable following amongst hardened drinkers in Scotland.

The Abbey was founded during the reign of King Canute and destroyed during the reign of Henry the Eighth. In the 19th Century it was a woollen mill and the owner built a mansion using some of the ruined Abbey. In the latter part of the 19th Century, two things happened, firstly the mill fell into disuse and the property was put up for sale. Secondly the French in 1880 had passed a law outlawing religious orders from operating in that county.

A wealthy Englishman who wanted to see a religious order return to the site purchased the land and gave it to the displaced French Benedictines. Starting with one monk who was a stone mason, five other unskilled monks, a borrowed horse and cart and a capital of five pounds, over the following 33 years the six of them, assisted by some stone finishers, built the magnificent Abbey that stands there today. It is just a truly amazing feat.

Our final stop of the day was the holiday resort of Lyme Regis. The day was very hot and the place was absolutely packed, mostly with fat sunburned British holiday makers. We were rather glad to get back on the bus and head to our accommodation for the night.

Today the temperature had reached 33c and our hotel, while visually attractive, unfortunately has no air condition and our room is like an oven: -Shades of the hot box in Bridge over the River Kwai.

This was our final night of our Back-Roads Tour and everyone was rather sad 

The law in the UK does not permit a bus driver to do a stretch longer than 6 days without a day off and since our tour is 7 days long, we have today off the road to give our driver, Peter, a break. After a string of early rising it was rather nice to have a gentle start to the day and after a leisurely breakfast we had a wander around the town and then caught the 10:50 am ferry to the next port down the coast.

This was a forty minute trip and we shared the voyage with some friends we have made on the trip, Tony and Margaret from Kiama Downs.  The Port of Mevagissey is not as flash as Fowey and is still a working fishing port which brings a sort of industrial grime combined with a definite fishy smell.

Still there were lots of holiday makers around and we had good fun exploring the narrow alleyways that pass for roads in this neck of the woods. 

We each had an excellent Cornish Pastie for lunch which we ate down on the Quayside keeping a watchful eye out for marauding seagulls. The seagulls here are considerably larger than we have at home and we had been warned of their aggressive nature.

 We saw a demonstration of this on the Quay . We were having coffee in a shop and a little boy and his dad were fishing and eating their lunch sitting on the edge of the Quay nearby. The father went into the shop to get a coffee and when he left, a flock of gulls just assaulted his little kid.  Their noise and ferocity was quite frightening. By the time the dad got back to his child, their lunch was largely gone. 

Having exhausted the delights of Mevagissey, we caught the ferry back to Fowey which I have decided just has to be the best spot on the coast – the Noosa Heads of Cornwall if you will. Here is a shot of our hotel as seen from the Ferry.

We wandered into Fowey for dinner which we ate outdoors by the water looking out at the yachts and the green hills behind. Here is a picture that Jeanette took of me there.

After dinner we watched the performance of a choir of British Legion members singing sea shanties and folk songs. Then back to our beautiful hotel for coffee on the deck while we watched the lights fade over the harbour.

Today we got to visit a small part of the Tregothnan Estate. Only a small piece because this estate, belonging to Viscount Falmouth, covers some 25,000 acres or 5% of Cornwall. It has been held by the Boscowan family since the 14th Century. They also, thanks to a favourable marriage some generations back, own  5000 acres of Kent. This guy in fact owns more of Cornwall than the Duke of Cornwall.

Our trip in took us down some of the narrowest back roads we have struck, to the banks of the river Fal. You can gauge that this is a sizeable tidal river by the fact that the other side of the river from the spot where we got to was an embarkation point for an American division during the D-Day landings  They also use this section of the river to lay up medium size freighters during economic downturns.

But today the scene was very peaceful, green and idyllic. We checked out a small tea plantation. The estate has a number much larger than this one and produces Tregothnan tea which is exported around the world.

 The  estate was largely let out to tenant farmers who would hold their plots over generations but today many of the newer generations don’t want a life on the land so these farms are being handed back and now run directly by the landowner with his estate staff of some 75 people. Tea is one crop, they also grow a variety of other crops such as flowers, including, would you believe, fields of daffodils which we did not see but I am sure are located beside the lakes beneath the trees fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

The vacated tenant cottages get interior renovations and are let out for holiday and permanent rentals. The next place we got to on the Estate, after transiting even more narrower and impossible roads, was the pretty little village of Coombe. This amazing little place was on the edge of a tributary of the river Fal and when the tide comes in what passes for the town square, car park and the road through to the other half of the village, goes under a couple of feet of water. Cottages here are let out under the name of “Tregothnan Wild Escapes” and it would be a fabulous getaway.

We had a long wander along the river bank here till we finally came to the home of a tenant farmer who does morning teas and there under the shade of a tree we ate scones and jam and cream and chatted and  life was rather good. Just a plug, I tried the Tregothnan tea and it was fabulous and not at all bitter. If you ever get a chance, try some.

Our next stop was the port of Charlestown. Originally set up to handle tin exports it became the main hub for exporting China Clay till that operation ceased in the 1990s. The port was bought by the Square Ships Association to park their square riggers and is now often used for movie sets. 

Finally we headed onto our home for the next two nights, the little seaside village of Fowey. I would just hate to be our bus driver. Here the roads just seem to get narrower and narrower. Our hotel was a grand old Victorian one perched on the side of a very steep hill at the mouth of the port. I just could not believe he could get the bus down to the hotel but somehow he pulled it off. 

The views from our room here are amazing.

Before today, my total of knowledge about St Ives was gleaned from the nursery rhyme. I did not have a clue that it was a seaside town like none you have ever seen.

 I guess the most striking thing about the place is the incredible jumble of impossibly narrow shop lined streets where going right or left demands at the minimum a 5 point turn, where cars move frighteningly fast down streets packed with pedestrians where in places there is not room enough for a car and a pedestrian to pass each other at the one time so one has to jump into a doorway, and where delivery vehicles often stop for considerable periods totally blocking the thoroughfare.  I should also add that the random placement of streets enables you to get totally lost in very short order.

 As part of our wanders here, we had walked down the jetty and were watching a fishing boat coming in, when we saw it was being chased by a seal looking for a handout. Since none was forthcoming it headed back out to sea. 

This is still a working fishing port as can readily be deduced by the vile fishy odour on the pier, but it was interesting to observe them off loading their catches. Jeanette was taken by this container of lobsters that was being couriered off to a restaurant.

Our next stop was at a National Trust site at Botallack where there were the ruins of extensive tin mining operations in the 19th Century. The mine extended for a half a mile out under the sea. With the sea mist rolling in and the buildings perched on the cliff side this was an incredible sight to see.

In the afternoon we visited St Michael’s Mount. This is a castle built on an island that can be reached from the mainland by a causeway when the tide is out. I had always thought this place was in France and it turns out there is one in France and Edward the Confessor gave this island to the Monks of the French St Michael’s in appreciation of their support.

The climb up the mountain to the castle was fairly strenuous and somewhat hazardous. I can guarantee that Worksafe would shut it down in a minute if it were in Aus. After 500 odd years you would  think someone could have made a safer access than scrambling up over steep slippery and sometimes jagged rocks but I guess not. 

The view from the battlements was impressive but it had been a very full day, the afternoon was very warm and the place was packed with people so I for one was rather glad to depart and get back to our beautiful hotel,.

 

Despite forecasts of sunny days in the high twenties, the Moors when we woke up were covered in fog and it was cold and drizzling. But this inauspicious start did not dampen Jeanette’s spirits as we were off to visit Port Isaac, aka Port Wenn, the home of Doc Martin. However, our first stop of the day was the little village of Altarnun and the church of St Nonna, a lovely old building in beautiful surrounds.

The ends of its pews were 15th century wood carvings but its greatest claim to fame was that this was the venue of Doc Martin’s wedding. We went in and found that the mid week morning service was in progress. The congregation comprised the Vicar and two elderly gentlemen, one of whom had his elderly dog with him. They belted out the responses with great gusto – no mumbling here. 

A bit embarrassed we withdrew quietly but the service was just finishing and Jeanette made friends with one of the elderly members of the congregation (the one with the elderly dog) as they were coming out and soon we were chatting with him and the Vicar. The dog apparently does not attend services on Sundays.

It was a snap shot of a vanishing way of village life. I was really taken by their sincerity and tried to imagine what it must be like walking up from your cottage in the village, over the little stone bridge past the graves of your ancestors to your church. That would have to be an incredible sense of belonging.

Our next stop was Port Isaac where we had great fun tracking down all the sites used in the Doc Martin series. The most obvious of course was the Doctor’s house.

One surprise is that Mrs Tishell’s Chemist shop is in fact in real life the town’s sweet shop. 

While we were trying to find the Doctor’s aunt’s place we stumbled across the house he had to move to when he and Louisa separated. It was down the tiniest alley way you have ever seen and the doorway could not have been much over five feet high.

Our afternoon was very enjoyably spent on a long lunch at Rick Stein’s restaurant in Padstow. The number of his ventures in this town and his impact on bringing tourists in have lead some locals to rename the town “Padstein”

Our lunch finished around 4pm and we then headed to our home for the next two days: the Royal Duchy Hotel in Falmouth. This gracious hotel, a survivor from the Victorian era, was located on the Falmouth waterfront and amazingly seemed to be manned entirely by English staff. We had a very comfortable room, the food was great and the staff were very friendly and efficient. All in all a perfect base for the next two nights.