Monthly Archives: September 2015

Back along the cobblestones for a wander through the wine and cheese market. Had a lovely lunch beside the market with another talented busker playing Bohemian Rhapsody. It is so quiet down here along the river. The majority of tourists are funny creatures that never leave the tourist streets. They don’t seem to process that just one street over there is a far more pleasant world.

It would be really easy to fall asleep in the sun. The locals are snoozing in the sun and there are lots of dogs and well behaved small people. The weather is gorgeous, but after my great lunch of cheese and rose, I guess I should walk. Tempting though to spend the whole afternoon, sipping wine, with the strains of Queen in my ears, and dogs bounding around this oh so pleasant park. But, I need a history lesson.

I wandered through the Jewish Quarter, and the old Jewish cemetery. Caught between two synagogues, the graves are stacked on top of each other, sometimes twelve deep. The stories in the Prague Jewish Museum and the synagogues are hard to hear. The massive collection of artifacts, ironically, was collected by the Nazis, who wanted to create a museum of a destroyed race. The buildings have gone up around the many synagogues, but the whole area feels so important, in what has been a long and difficult history. Amidst the beauty of Prague, there are some signs of a complex history and current tension. As I wandered back through the major square, there were some peaceful protests that reminds one of the current challenges right across this region.

Had a great meandering day through the laneways of Prague. The buskers were out in force, so had a lovely time listening to a talented young singer/guitarist at the Lennon Wall in Velkopřevorské náměstí  in the Malá Strana, or Little Quarter.

The Gothic, Charles Bridge, gets so crowded, but I like the small streets that run down beside it. I was off wandering, not taking very much notice, and found myself in the middle of a film set. Of course I was lost in my own little world, so didn’t really process what was going on until a very gruff man roared at me in some foreign language. When I did look around, it was an odd site. There were women in period costume strolling the streets, and men in tights asleep in wagons and carriages. I have absolutely no idea what they were filming, just slightly bemused that I didn’t even notice the movie filming signs everywhere and the massive cameras.

I had been warned that food here was stodgy meat and dumplings, but not true, and I have found some lovely cafes. I had fantastic prawn Pad Thai and then a stroll back to put on something slightly more respectable than my oh so travel worn clothes.

I was very excited as I wandered the cobblestone streets back to the very lovely Church of Our Lady before Týn. I had bought tickets to the Royal Czech Orchestra concert. It was wonderful. Of course the acoustics in the Church were fantastic and I became totally spell bound listening as Vivaldi, Pachelbel and Bach rang out from talented violinists.

I had

I had to come and sit in the tranquility of a church as I have an overwhelming sense of the vapors. Not in a bad way. I am just completely awestruck by the beauty of Prague. I have no idea where I am, or no idea which direction the hotel is, but I think that is ok, cause I seem to be caught right in the middle of a fairytale. I wandered down another fairytale street and am now sitting in a lovely small square. I have given up on technology. It seems somehow wrong to pull the IPAD out amongst the fairytale buildings and the beautiful sound of a talented busker, so am busily scribbling instead in my lovely Italian notepad.  Pigeons are sitting listening, and water is spurting from the beak of a swan atop a beautiful fountain. There are so many tourists in the old square, but as soon as you walk one street over it is an oasis. Tom, these two guys are the most amazing guitarists. Lennon’s Imagine is just beautiful in Czech.

My map is in Czech, which is a slight challenge, but I guess the street signs are too, so I just need to go with it. I have never thrown so much money into hats but I feel like I have been in an outdoor concert all day, so totally worth it.

I have walked kms up cobbled stone streets, past the most whimsical buildings. I have had a lovely day wandering through fantastic marionette stores, beautiful churches and stopping all over the place to listen to the fantastic buskers. I am starting to get my bearings but really, it doesn’t matter being lost, as every turn brings another beautiful sight. There are bits of the city that remind me of Salzburg, which I loved, but then I look up, and the black spires are definitely Bohemian.

I am at the Marriott, which is lovely, and I fell into the deepest sleep last night. I hardly ever dream, but had the most fantastic dreams so I don’t know what that means. The flight from Gatwick was good, but we sat on the tarmac for about an hour and a half, behind what seemed like a hundred or more planes. I would normally be totally bored, but I sat totally intrigued as this lovely young woman started to get a whole weaving factory set up in the plane. She had the whole thing sorted. Her purple shaded wool went up over the tray table and was secured, and then I sat mesmerized as she worked backwards and forwards working a beautiful belt. Just before we landed, I asked her whether she had been to Prague. She had the most beautiful Irish lilt and told me that she had lived in Prague for many years, and would I like a ride into the city. She was currently working in sexual health and reproduction in Bhutan but had a home base here. I did have a moment, as I wandered with her to the car park, where I thought, I could be going for a drive with an axe murderer or trained assassin. She did have a slight look of Angelina Jolie. But then, what a fantastically interesting axe murderer or assassin who is stunning, tall, with the most wonderful Irish accent, and weaves on planes. She gave me the tourist guide into Prague and I am here today, so if she was an axe murderer or trained assassin, I was not on her list.

I wandered back to the hotel to charge my phone which was nearly flat and have now strolled down from the hotel to a local burger bar. Have just stuffed myself full of, arguably, the best hamburger I have ever eaten. The Joy Burger Bar is now on my list of great eateries. It seems a little odd to be raving about a hamburger, cause I am sure Cinderella never munched through a burger in her fairytale life, but then, looking down, I can’t see any glass slippers, just very dusty Nikes.

Oh Cambridge is just so beautiful. Every time I visit I goo and gah more. Arrived into Cambridge on the train from King’s Cross and caught a cab past the ‘backs’ to Churchill College. The site of one of the most photographed places in the world never ceases to illicit a gasp, as the cab speeds past Kings College. Churchill is one of the newer colleges and whilst not grand, in the Mr Potter sense of the world, it is still beautiful with lovely gardens and such lovely staff. The men in the Porters Lodge can’t do enough for you and I was quickly sent off to my super comfortable room overlooking the garden. Whilst it is ‘student digs’ the room was lovely, with lots of light and a huge space. My bed was incredibly comfortable and probably slept the best there since I have been away. It might have helped that after I arrived I caught up with some old friends and wandered down to the Eagle – I seriously don’t know how people can put away so many pints .. I was on my ear after a pint of cider. The Eagle is famous for its RAF bar, with graffiti from world war 2 airmen all over the ceiling and it continues to attract  ex service men who hear the accent and then very loudly ask you how the cricket is going.

I was incredibly busy at the conference, but can’t complain, as I am here for work. The problem is always that you end up working two days in one as you finish your UK day and then Australia is awake and have to deal with the hundreds of emails. Ran workshops, presented, chaired and all of the usual stuff.

I had one free bit so wandered down Storey’s Way and into Madingley to the historical heart of Cambridge. It was still pretty quiet as students not back for a couple of weeks. I wonder if they have any idea how privileged they are to study in such a totally idyllic spot. I went and grabbed a sandwich and headed to St Johns. One of my favourite spots is sitting in the kirkyard right opposite Newton’s tree.

We had the conference dinner last night at Homerton College and that was seriously flying owls and waving wands.

Lovely gardens and then the gong for dinner and the request to follow the garden path, past liveried young people, all lined up in the Great Hall. Had a lovely dinner amidst the paintings, timber and candles. I have been to a number of Cambridge conferences before and can never quite reconcile the disco in Hogwart Halls. Climbed on to the earliest bus back to the quiet of Churchill.

I left Cambridge after running a workshop this morning. I am totally enjoying the train trip. I figured out it was much quicker to just catch the longer train from St Pancras to Gatwick rather than cross London in a cab to Victoria. I did that trip the other day and it took me 45 minutes (and almost as many pounds). The ThamesLink train is great. I am seeing so much out the windows. We just had a few minutes stop at Blackfriars and the view of the Tower Bridge in the bright sunshine was stunning. Yes, the weather has improved and the whole country is bathed in the most glorious sunshine. I really do love train travel and think it is the most totally wonderful way to get anywhere (apart from my bike).

Well woke up early to the sound of seagulls and car engines. I was craving the Tudors and had missed the BP prize on my wet transit through London. A hasty climb up the hill and 50 minutes later I am alighting at London Victoria. I had a lovely Sunday morning walk through Covent Garden, Notting Hill and then to the National Portrait Gallery. As always the BP was totally fantastic. There were quite a few people wandering but still managed to have a good look at the wonderful portraits – oh the talent of artists from all over the world. There were a couple of Aussie portraits, including a stunning one of Robert Hoge.

I tubed it to the V&A and had a lovely time slumming it in South Kensington. The sensory assault was settling with the gorgeous Arts and Craft furniture, mid century Danish and great clothes. I don’t know anyone that would fit into those 1700 gowns, and I remain totally intrigued by the tiny shoes and oh so petite gloves. Honestly, even the skinny people I know wouldn’t even get a leg in. Well of course on that note, I had to go in search of proper English tea, so thoroughly enjoyed my cucumber sandwiches, cream scones and champagne.

As I arrived back into Brighton, I was back into the crazy psychedelic sensory experience. This time, millions of seagulls, swarming over the pier in the dusty light. The whole of the Village People were now at the pub, in full Village People regale. Swarming Hitchcock birds, high camp, and fairy floss, gorgeous Harajuku wearing young Japanese girls – how on earth am I going to cope with a visit to platform 9 and ¾, the Hogwarts express, Churchill College and a sedate healthcare conference in Cambridge?

Well after a couple of days of boys in full cowboy gear (well sort of; chaps, but they forgot their pants) and women of a certain age (mine) with the most amazing tattoos I feel very boringly sedate. I have had a lovely couple of days in Brighton, but in hindsight, the assault on the senses probably meant I should have stayed one day less. The B&B where I am staying is lovely and in a great location.

www.whitehousebrighton.com

A wander down the street to the seaside, and up the street toward the totally fantastic North Laines. I set off in the morning toward the Brighton Marina but only walked two steps beyond the double glazed windows, and was hit by the roar. Ken would have been in his element. Wall to wall Ducatis and racing cars of all shapes, ages and sizes. I thought about the last time I found myself in the middle of a car race, but that was the Miglia in Verona with scarf wearing movie star types. This time, not quite so glamourous. More beer swilling, cave men, with bushy beards and top to toe leather. It was slightly surreal though, as these cars and bikes were roaring along the foreshore for the National time trials right beside the outside movie screen. I must admit I did find myself singing ‘grease lightning’ complete with hand gestures as I wandered along with Grease playing in the background. Lucky no one knows me here eh? Maxine, it was sort of like Christmas karaoke. By the time it got to ‘Sandra Dee’ I thought, I gotta get out of here.

Headed toward Rottingdean, as I heard there was a hidden walk along the white cliffs on the sea wall. Well I marched off with Olivia ringing in my ears in search of the Kipling gardens. It was gorgeous. 30km later, according to my Apple watch, I had done Kipling and had a fantastic wander through small village streets where I expected the Vicar of Dibley to accost me. Back through the North Laines through wild sex shops, tattoo parlours and shops selling Wedgewood china, and very British homewares (can I fit a cool daschund clock in my case? – although from stories of the shoe eating daxie monster at home, Tom might not be impressed with another one).

The graffiti were fantastic and I found myself stopping beside Harajuku young Japanese girls staring up at Brighton’s priceless ‘New Masters’. Was I homesick. Don’t think so. But found myself at Bills for dinner. Great food in an old mechanics shed. A bit different to sedate Sydney. There was a large table of gals all dressed in 50s gear on a hen’s night (they seem to be big here), so had a lovely evening of people watching. My walk back through the Lanes was lovely but then I hit the beach again. Shakespeare in Love, it looked like on the big screen, which would fit with my book on Henry’s last wife, but can’t seem to reconcile the scantily clad boys and rainbow signs, and the mountain men on their bikes roaring along the road. Maybe I need to get a tattoo. What do you think Lyd?

Holed up in the turret of a fantastic Georgian seaside abode. The tiniest room, but the flamingo wallpaper gives a pretty good hint as to what is outside. Being a sort of ‘feel at home in Mayfair’ sort of girl I got off the train and thought OMG I should have gone to Edinburgh. BUT after I got over the ‘where in hell am I’, and ‘this place is totally mental’ feeling I am having the maddest time. It is fantastic. John Nash’s folly of a seaside shack for the Prince Regent would arguably be the most fantastic building I have ever been in. From the outside, I was expecting a slightly grungy, pseudo Indian, dusty shell of a place, but oh my god. I just kept saying that over and over again as I walked through every room. Maybe exotic, fanciful, whimsical, eccentric and over the top, but I walked around with my mouth open muttering OMG the whole way. Words cannot describe it (and damn I wasn’t allowed to take photos). If you haven’t been here it is worth flying half way around the world just to see. Musty, conservative old palaces are just blown out of the water by this mental oriental, Indian odyssean extravaganza. Every room made me OMG even more. I don’t think I will ever recover from the site of the Banqueting Hall, with its 10 metre chandelier, where the gilded fronds of palm leaves, and the enormous silvered dragon claws hold on to the six smaller dragons as they puff their fire through lotus glass shades. The opulence of dark crimson, red, gold and royal blue, complete with bamboo staircases, and amazing paintings, and completely over the top oriental stuff was just jaw dropping. The extravagance of the lotus chandeliers and the flying dragons in the music room really made me wonder why I had not, in the past, taken more notice of this mental masterpiece. I am totally excited as I have a two-day pass so can’t wait to go back today.

http://brightonmuseums.org.uk/royalpavilion/

I went from the sensory overload of George’s beach shack to the fantastic vintage retro of the Brighton Museum. The cool furniture brought back great memories of Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s gorgeous domestic creation in the Glaswegian vicinity.  I am sure every sense was shattered after I left, as I walked around for the rest of the afternoon with the worst non headache migraine I have ever had. Seriously bad, but I just couldn’t drag myself back to lay on the bed. I wandered the Laines, with more sensory onslaughts, and eventually slumped into the reassuring boringness of Starbucks. Seriously, I needed to hide somewhere slightly familiar. To Jamie’s, for great gnocchi and the best Mojito, and then a stagger back along the mental Brighton Pier. Honestly, I ended up wondering whether the mushrooms I had at breakfast had created my hallucinogenic day.  Well guess what, I am sitting here drinking buckets of good Yorkshire tea preparing myself for another total mental onslaught of a day – I could skip the mushrooms – but why would you – I am seriously excited about re-joining the psychedelic madness that is Brighton – but I definitely need more tea to brace myself – I don’t think a weekend will ever be the same again!

The trip to Lincoln was pretty good. A train from Kings Cross, via Newark Gate, a change, and then to the beautiful cathedral city of Lincoln. Walking through the arch of the remnants of the Roman town of Lindum Colonia. Newport arch is a 3^rd century Roman gate, and as you enter, it really feels like stepping back in time. I was trying to picture the marauding Vikings, but any thought of Viking raids was quickly replaced with the view of William the 1^st Lincoln Castle and the amazing cathedral. The Minster traces back to 1092, and has important links to the Magna Carta. You do get a sense that Lincoln was once one of the UKs wealthiest towns, with its Harry Potter Streets and the steep hill to the Bailgate.

I had a lovely time with Jan and was treated like the Queen at BG University. It was really busy, and I did feel slightly weary when I fell onto the train headed to London and then the sea.

Great flight over courtesy of a lovely flat bed from QANTAS. The first leg was in economy, but all ok, as sat in front of the babies basket with heaps of leg room. Got to cluck over someone else’s grand baby. Baby Zara was just perfect and slept and laughed the whole way to Dubai. Easy two hour stopover in Dubai. It was over 40 outside and you could feel the heat radiating through the windows, but a shower, and change of boarding pass, to the top and pointy end, was fantastic. Sat beside a lovely pilot, had beautiful lunch, some champagne and slept soundly until arrival into Heathrow. Was a good time to arrive as through security super quick, Heathrow Express and then a cab to the really comfortable St Pancras Premier Inn.

I love the Premier Inns. They might all look the same, and are a budget chain, but they are amazingly clean, great beds and so quiet. They offer a guaranteed good night sleep and have a million pillows to choose from so very happy here.
London was grey and overcast but tshirt weather and dry so headed out for a three hour walk. It was just lovely. I walked down from Euston Road through Bloomsbury and Mayfair to Green Park. Being Sunday it was pretty quiet, and I poked around in gorgeous Swedish and Danish furniture shops on the way (I don’t think I can justify a shipping container but seriously tempted.)
The walk through the park was lovely and then to Lizzie’s house and then on to Hyde Park. I had coffee when visiting Nelson, and the lions were still in place, with little kids climbing all over them. I had a great wander through the seriously cool Covent Garden market. The balloons are from there and then through Covent Garden, where the lads were all out with a wee pint. 18 kms later I staggered home to a pint of Magners and fish and chips and tumbled into bed at 8pm. Of course was wide awake at 1, 3 and 5. Dialled into a teleconference at home, and now sitting at the British Library drinking coffee ( really need to find some Aussie baristas .. There are lots here cause the coffee is seriously bad) but being surrounded by original Beatle music etc is pretty cool. It rained early this morning but grey and dry at the moment. It is a Bank holiday here and the BBC Good Food festival is on at Henry’s house at Hampton Court so headed there with my brolly. It is great having Kings Cross over the road, as super quick to Waterloo. Excited to be back in London .. Honestly I could sit here for a week people watching. Already this morning there has been amazing hairstyles, seriously cool clothes, whoops I spoke too soon. Now pouring outside , but the group of young lads with towels on their heads have just walked past, so even in rain, highly entertaining. Well at least I have been here lots of times and know that you have to pack for every weather in one day. It looks like it might be Henry then the mummies.