Not Just a Granny

I conquered a mountain…..

December 9, 2016 by notjustagranny

…okay well in practice it was two hills, but at the time it felt like a mountain and if I put one on top of the other it would qualify as a mountain…right?

I had a few days between assignments; one in Preston Lancashire and the next (where I am as I write) in Worcestershire. I was due to start work in Great Malvern on Friday last and finished the assignment in Preston on Monday of last week. Never one to miss an opportunity to explore I stayed at a B&B on Monday night to explore Preston (more on that later) before heading down to Malvern Link on Tuesday where I was booked to stay for three nights.

view of North Hill from the B&B

My goal was to climb the ‘mountain’; Worcestershire Beacon, which is located right above Great Malvern (or is GM located right below?). Worcester Beacon, at 425 metres (1,394 ft) above sea level, is the highest point of the Malvern Hills. I have worked in Great Malvern before but because my breaks are only two hours per day, there is no way I would have time to climb to the top and back again….and so it proved to be….in total it took me just over 4.5 hours door to door. Mind you, I did climb North Hill first so maybe….

Britain as a whole had been blessed with the most extraordinarily beautiful weather this last week, the kind of weather you only get in winter…crisp, cold, fresh days that take your breath away, and on the day I had planned to climb, the day dawned clear and cold…..and very frosty, as one would expect at this time of year.

frost – the patterns of frost are intriguing

I set off after breakfast and headed uphill, puffing and panting I might add, towards the rather marvellous Edwardian clock tower that resides on the lower slopes of North Hill at Tank Quarry. In order to reach the Beacon from where I was located I had to climb North Hill first. The houses on the slopes of North Hill have the most amazing views across the valley.

the Clock Tower and houses with a seriously amazing view

The slopes are steep and rough and I had to tread carefully in order that I didn’t twist an ankle or fall……But my trainers are sturdy and I made steady albeit slow progress with lots of heavy breathing LOL. If you heard me coming up behind you, you would have been forgiven for thinking I was a stalker!! I haven’t done much by way of long distance walking since July and I am certainly not anywhere near as fit as I was then. But I persevered and strode on upwards and upwards and upwards.

perfect day to conquer a mountain

Oh my word…the views across the Severn valley were extraordinary. The higher I climbed the more I could see and the valleys in the distance were hidden beneath a hazy layer of cloud or mist. The sun shone brightly (mostly straight into my eyes depending on which section of the zig-zag slope I was on.

the views across the Severn Valley are amazing

I stopped frequently to take photos and posted them to instagram as I went. I passed fellow climbers, dog-walkers, a few joggers and a couple of daft buggers on bicycles! I mean who in heck rides either up or down a mount….I mean hill. Seriously!!

It was lovely to share a cheery greeting of ‘good morning’ – fine day for it! I was surprised to see a number of climbers who were clearly older than me…some of whom strode by and left me in their dust!!! LOL

Suddenly I was near the summit of North Hill and the beacon was within my grasp…or not!

the summit of North Hill…..looks different to what it did from down below

No, not quite…..I still had a ways to go but thankfully the section between North Hill and Worcester Beacon was relatively flat and stretched between the two for quite a distance which gave me time to catch my breath and just enjoy the scenery and the peace. It was remarkably quiet and at times all I could hear was bird-song, and in the distance the lowing of cattle.

the stretch between North Hill and Beacon Hill

The ground and surrounding areas on the way up was very frosty and in some stretches very slippery….a state of affairs that remained on my way back down 3 hours later!!! The sun simply didn’t reach some areas of the hills and I imagine the frost would stay until it warmed up a bit. In the distance I could see the crest of the hill and I was certain I could see the beacon….at least I thought I could. It looked to be an easy stretch but in reality the climb up Worcester Beacon hill was really strenuous.

Suddenly I reached the crest between the two hills and there before me was Herefordshire!! And not only that but I could see the Black Mountains in Wales!!! Wow!!! The highest summit of the hills (where I was headed) affords a panorama of the Severn valley with a view of the the hills of Herefordshire, the Welsh mountains, parts of thirteen counties, the Bristol Channel, and on a clear day the cathedrals of Worcester, Gloucester and Hereford. Obviously with all the mist hovering in the valleys I couldn’t see them at all. But oh! How beautiful it is!!

Herefordshire and in the far distance the Black Mountains of Wales…wow!!!

At the point where I could see Herefordshire and the Black Mountains was a beacon showing the way to the Beacon!! there were also a few cows grazing on the green slopes which explained the lowing I could hear from North Hill. I stopped for a while to just enjoy the splendid views and chat to the cows…no not really, hahaha. I did take some photos though, and they in turn eyed me out with disdain.

not the real Beacon…but directing me towards the real deal. Oh and some cows…or are they bulls. I never thought to look 🙂

Then I was onto the final push up the very frosty, slippery slopes. It was difficult to see where the original path was as it appears that over the years people have kind of forged their own paths and there were a multitude of routes to take. As I slipped and climbed, breathing heavily, I notice an elderly gent climbing ever so sprightly along a hidden path…I headed towards that and found what I surmised was the original…..it looked more like it was anyway. It was also not quite as slippery. So with the sun directly in my eyes, I made my way gingerly uphill.

slippery slope. very frosty. totally beautiful

And then finally I was at the top of the hill and just a short walk to the beacon. I made it!! I was on top of the world.

The real Beacon! Erected in Commemoration of the Sixtieth Year of Queen Victoria’s Reign 1897

The views are breath-taking and I spent a good half-hour or so just absorbing the views, studying the map on the beacon to see where places were…to my delight I noticed the source of the River Thames that starts below the Cotswolds which, had it been a clear day, I’m sure I would have seen them…..the valleys were still covered in mist, and quite frankly looked exquisite.

The Beacon!! 360 degrees. Views in every direction…amazing

The air was so fresh and clear and by now I was breathing more normally. I chatted to everyone who approached the beacon and we discussed the various landmarks and where they would be. One gentleman with his dog tarried a while and I found out that he and his wife have a campervan that they use for trips around the country. I told him of my dream to travel around the UK in a motor-home or campervan (whichever I can afford). We shared a few stories of travels past….and he gave me a few tips for campervanning that I have since forgotten LOL

It was really interesting to see all the landmarks and just before I left to head back down I took a photo showing the direction of the River Severn (which I was to encounter just the next day during my visit to Worcester!) and the Bristol Channel. It’s extraordinary that one can see so many counties and especially the Black Mountains in Wales. Before too long I had to leave and make my way back down, the sun was beginning to slide towards the horizon and I didn’t want to have to stumble down in the dark. After one last photo in the direction of the Bristol Channel I waved goodbye and set off downhill.

looking towards the Bristol Channel…..what a view!!

My walk down was a little more difficult on the old knees and shins what with the jarring movement going downhill and I had to tread very carefully. On the way down some chap on a bicycle passed me!!! I mean hello!! I did give him a bit of a jibe about riding down a hill on bike, but he just laughed and carried on. I passed a very jolly party of 4 going up the hill, stopped to take some group photos for them and ended up chatting about politics, Brexit and Mr Juncker and his substantial salary increases. Needless to say we all agreed on the results! I waved hello to a group of 6 Pakistani gentleman walking uphill, having a great chat and eating Kettle chips (?)….I passed a lady that I had met earlier going up who was climbing to the top to take a photo of the beacon for her son in Singapore….we marvelled at the age of technology where you could stand on the top of a ‘mountain’ in the UK and chat to someone on the other side of the world in the far east.

It was still very frosty.

I conquered a mountain……well it felt like a mountain 😉

In due course I reached the bottom of North Hill once again at North Quarry and congratulated myself on my achievement…..I had conquered a mountain and achieved my goal.

North Hill on the right and Worcester Beacon Hill……my mountains LOL

I was also totally astounded at the stats……I had switched on MapMyWalk before I left and to my astonishment I had climbed an elevation of 373m, walked 12.2km’s and taken 25,744 steps!!! wow. Interesting.

A few facts about the Malvern Hills.

The name Malvern is probably derived from the ancient British moel-bryn, meaning “Bare-Hill”.
The Malvern Hills are formed of some of the most ancient rocks in England, mostly igneous and metamorphic rocks from the late Precambrian, known as the Uriconian, which are around 680 million years old.
The Malvern Hills are a range of hills in the English counties of Worcestershire, Herefordshire and a small area of northern Gloucestershire.
They are known for their spring water – initially made famous by the region’s many holy wells, and later through the development of the 19th century spa town of Great Malvern.

Malvhina Spout – Malvern Spring Water.

The rocks of the Malvern Hills are amongst the oldest and hardest found in England.
The Malvern Hills have been designated as a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) by Natural England. Species include Dormouse, Barbastelle (bat), Skylark, High Brown Fritillary Butterfly, Great Crested Newt and Adder of which I saw not one!! also Black Poplar although it’s entirely possible I saw one of these without knowing what it is.
Flint axes, arrowheads, and flakes found in the area are attributed to early Bronze Age settlers.
During the medieval period, the hills and surrounding area were part of a Royal forest known as Malvern Chase. Riots by commoners and legal challenges from land owners ensued when King Charles I attempted to deforest the Chase in 1630.
The landscape itself was irrevocably changed by extensive quarrying in the area changing the Hills forever. This created new habitats for frogs, toads, newts and other small animals. The new cliffs also provide nesting sites for certain birds.

North Quarry

You can walk the Worcestershire Way that takes on a route between the Georgian town of Bewdley and the grand spa town of Malvern.

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a sense of loss….

December 7, 2016 by notjustagranny

It’s a year ago today since my Father passed away. He died on his own, in his flat. I’m still not sure what happened; was it a heart-attack, a blackout that caused him to fall and bang his head, another stroke? I haven’t been told.

And therein lies the rub of it. I haven’t been told. I have asked….but does anyone know? I’m not sure. We are the products of my father’s history….a secretive family. I hate secrets.

It’s kinda weird really knowing he is dead. It’s kinda weird knowing that I haven’t been affected by his death at all. I know my siblings have. And I feel more for them, for their loss. What is it that I feel for them? Sadness that they’ve lost someone who to them was a dearly beloved father? Pain at their loss? Empathy at the loss of a parent? I’m not really sure. I haven’t yet stopped to examine my feelings. What I do know is, the older I get the more I wish – I wish he had been a loving father, a role model, someone for me to look up to, someone I had good memories of….someone who was there for me!!

He was 85 years old when he died. And he was old. Apparently slipping into Alzheimers, according to my sister he often got lost, confused and belligerent. 15 years past the expected 3 score and 10! More than my Mother was blessed with. She’s been gone 32 years now. My daughter asked me this morning how I was feeling. Honestly, I feel annoyed. Annoyed that he died so close to my Mother’s birth date of 6th December. It’s a bit of an annoyance to me that he died so close to her special date. Forces me to remember his date. You know as in ‘my father died the day after my Mother’s birth date’.

Actually……I lost my father when I was 5 years old and my sister 3 years old; his two children from his first marriage. The two children left behind as he set off on adventures new. Oh yes we were included….maybe twice a year…during school holidays or at Christmas. Sometimes he even appeared for our birthdays…often he promised to and didn’t. I remember one year in particular…..I had received a much wished for train-set for my 6th birthday and he had promised to come…..he didn’t. I ran and hid in the water-tower. The place where his brother-in-law found me. The one who was a paedophile. The one my father should have protected me from. He didn’t. He didn’t believe me then and he didn’t believe me when I was in my 20’s and told him again what had happened. He told me not to spread lies and talk about people like that. As if a 6 year-old knows the details of sexual assault without having been subjected to it. As if a 20-year old would or could forget

I am the eldest of my father’s children. There are 5 of us…..4 girls and one boy, one of whom was adopted by my father and his 3rd wife. There used to be 6 of us. My brother Arnold, who was also adopted by my Father when he married his 2nd wife, died in his 20’s from a ruptured ulcer. He too died alone. He too was found wanting. I was surprised on the day my Father told me that my brother had died…..he was crying? Even then I wasn’t sure why? My brother was not his favourite child.

Yes, my father remarried after he divorced my Mother. It wasn’t that long after. He adopted his new wife’s child; a boy – Arnold. Some years later he had another child with his 2nd wife; also a boy. He divorced his 2nd wife too many years later, and remarried again. He and his 3rd wife adopted a child; a girl. They then had another child; also a girl.

These are my siblings. I have 1 real sister. 1 half brother. 1 dead brother. 1 adopted sister. 1 half sister – all from my father’s side. I have 2 other siblings; both half-sisters, girls from my Mother’s 2nd and 3rd marriages. I was the eldest. I often wish we were closer, my siblings and I. All of them I mean. We’re relatively close, each in different ways, in our different relationships, but not in the ways that really count, like growing up together, like shared fun family times, like having the same set of parents, like all being ‘real’ brothers and sisters. Although the family ties are there, it’s been a tricky road to walk. A lot of angst. Many secrets. Don’t tell……

Over the years I had a troubled relationship with my Father. The only time I recall being close to him was when I was very young. He used to tell me I was his favourite? I’m not sure why since he always expressed a level of disappointment in my ‘non-achievements’ as he saw them. I didn’t have an interest in going to University. Strike 1. I wasn’t interested in the son of a family friend that he was keen for me to get engaged to. Strike 2. I married at 17 years of age to someone he didn’t approve of. Strike 3. In fact he refused to walk me down the aisle. That was left to my Mother’s 3rd husband. The person who paid for the wedding. The person who had assaulted and beaten my mother for the 6 years prior. The person who had openly and brazenly sexually abused me as a teenager. He had a particular affection for my budding breasts. I was unable to tell my father. He had already told me not to spread lies about people. After 3 years I divorced my 1st husband. I then had another disastrous relationship with a very abusive man. Thankfully I ended that. I eventually married a second time. I didn’t ask my father to walk me down the aisle.

I had a daughter outside of that marriage. A daughter that my Father felt I was not caring for properly, not feeding properly, not dressing properly. If there was something he could criticise, he did. His opinion of me as a mother was low. Strike 4. In actual fact, my daughter was the cleanest, most well-looked after baby you could wish to find. I used to change her clothes at least 3 times a day. She was skinny from birth. My milk didn’t nourish her and she had to go onto bottles. She was loved and cherished. But that wasn’t good enough for my father. He and his 3rd wife had wanted to adopt her you see. So I was found wanting.

During the 90’s after his 3rd wife went off the rails and started drinking heavily she started to verbally abuse my sister and I (you know, the one’s from his 1st marriage). We would get long abusive phone calls at all hours of the day or night. As a result, after a time, a restraining order was laid against her. My father refused to have anything to do with us after that. We, he and I didn’t talk for 4 years. That also meant I didn’t get to see or talk to his youngest children, my sisters. That was hard. It’s affected our relationship to this day. Do I wish we had been closer? Definitely. Thankfully we are now adults and can choose.

To say that I had a rocky and turbulent relationship with my father would be an understatement. I resented his authoritarian parental methods. I felt he hadn’t the right to chastise or criticise me when he hadn’t stayed around to raise me. When I was much older I understood the reason why he was authoritarian (his father was a tyrant) but nonetheless I resented him. I resented the broken promises. I resented that he discarded one for another. I resented the huge house that he lived in with his ‘new’ family while my Mother struggled to raise us in a tiny flat. I resented the car he had. At home we had to walk carrying loads of shopping or take a bus if we went anywhere. My Mother couldn’t afford a car. I resented, although I always looked forward to them with great excitement, the flights to Cape Town for the holidays. Holidays that were filled with anger and shouting. He and his 2nd wife didn’t get along too well. I resented that he drove a divide between us and them. I resented the secrets. The ‘don’t tell anyone’. I hate secrets.

I remember sitting in the Mall on the East Rand many years ago when I was already in my 40’s, meeting up with my father for coffee and having what I thought would be a grown-up discussion….it ended up with me screaming at him for not listening, not hearing me. Lashing out at his disparaging comments. At his unwillingness to even give me the benefit of the doubt. I tried to tell him so much. He wouldn’t hear me. When I was made Regional Personnel and Financial Manager for a Group of Companies in 1984….his reply: are you sure you can cope? Well I did and I thrived. I went on to become Regional Manager for the Eastern Cape. Still he was unimpressed. His reply “Oh yes?” in that tone of voice I had learned so well over the years; it told me all I needed to know. He never said he was proud of me – ever! I hated him for a very long time.

When I came to the UK in 2001 I felt I was leaving that all behind me. I had a lot of distance between me and….then. He came to the UK in 2007…not to see me specifically but because the Tour de France was due to start from London. He was a cycling fanatic. Seeing me was incidental. On the day of the TdF start we spent some time together. I mentioned that I was thinking of walking The Camino. His reply: “you can’t, you have to be religious to do that”. Why? Millions of people walk The Camino. Many of them are not religious. He cycled The Camino. I forget how many times. He wasn’t religious. He believed he was a Christian. So why when I said I wanted to walk was I found wanting. Still. After 50 odd years? Ironically he cycled The Camino earlier last year with my sister. She’s not religious.

I saw him last about 5 years ago on a trip to South Africa. That was the last photo I have of him and me together. We’re both smiling. Photos are so deceptive. He phoned me for my 60th birthday in 2015. I was shocked beyond belief that he had phoned. It was the last time I spoke to him.

He had a group of friends through the Al Anon group that he attended for many years in Cape Town. When I saw their comments about him on his Facebook profile after he died, it’s like they’re talking about a completely different person. Someone I don’t know. He won an award the day before he died. I didn’t even know.

I feel sadness for my siblings. At the loss of their father. But do I feel a sense of loss for myself? No. I don’t. I lost my father 56 years ago; when I was 6 years-old.

Posted in family and relationships, It's my life | Tagged family and relationships, losing a father, losing a parent | 2 Comments »

The power of being vulnerable — Less is More

December 5, 2016 by notjustagranny

The more you give the more you get back. It’s scary opening our heart sometimes but I urge you to try it. If you have the courage to be vulnerable, especially if you’re in a leadership role, you empower others. I arrived in India 2 days ago to do a yoga course and didn’t know […]

via The power of being vulnerable — Less is More

I’ve shared Helen’s post as it comes a few hours after I read an article about the Camino that really caught at me. I posted the article on facebook along with this comment:

“Reading this actually brought tears to my eyes….I simply cannot wait to go. It also clarified for me why I want to do this on my own….I want to be taken right out my comfort zone, I want to be confronted by challenges, I want to be alone in the crowd and yet one with my companions, I want to be physically, mentally and emotionally challenged, I want the Camino to ‘walk’ me!!! I simply cannot wait…albeit wait I must…but soon. Soon.”

Helen’s post resonated with me tonight because when walking the Camino we do open ourselves up to being vulnerable; in so many ways that we cannot even begin to comprehend until we start.

Here is the Camino article. http://www.caminoadventures.com/days-arriving-santiago-de-compostela/

What really caught my attention in the article was this: the 3 important questions necessary for growth (if not sanity):

Where am I going?
Where have I been?
Who am I?

I can answer the first two fairly easily, but it was the 3rd question that caught at me. This is something that I have been questioning of late and sometimes I really don’t know. Life has shaped me in weird ways, experiences have either warped me or shaped me…..Who am I? is a question that I reckon my journey along The Way is going to challenge me.

Posted in Camino 2016, family and relationships, Interesting articles, It's my life, other peoples blog, spirituality | Tagged about being human, relationships, vulnerability, walking the camino | Leave a Comment »

Preston Cemetery

November 28, 2016 by notjustagranny

I have just spent the last 12 days at a job in a suburb of Preston, Lancashire and although I haven’t been able to explore the city (we’re just too far away), I have been able to explore Preston Cemetery 🙂 Although Preston Cemetery was established in and opened in 1855, the earliest year of a recorded death was 1781. I did search all over for this particular grave but was unsuccessful.

Preston Cemetery

The cemetery is a 5-8 minute walk away from the house and en-route to the store where we collect the newspaper, so I’ve had plenty of opportunity to visit during my breaks…which have been a tad tricky to arrange, but I’ve deliberately made a plan to get out, even if just for a hour….or on my way to the store 😉

Preston Cemetery, Lancashire. the newer section at 09:36 in the morning

I initially thought that the section I walked past was it…but one day as I explored farther afield, and wondered at the fact that most of the memorials appeared to be fairly new, I discovered the older, original section….now we’re talking.

Preston Cemetery, Lancashire – the old section

Oh my gosh, it’s amazing. the Victorians really went all out on their extravagant memorials, some of which are quite simply outlandish…huge and ostentatious; urns, wreaths, broken columns, upside-down torches, obelisks, grieving women

albeit a later burial; a grieving woman – Preston Cemetery, Lancashire

– many monuments in Victorian cemeteries are pagan rather than Christian, or classical (Roman) or Egyptian.

Victorian funerary symbols

Victorian graves tended to be much more elaborate than modern graves. It was expected that a middle-class family would spend as much as it could afford on a monument appropriate to the deceased’s (and the family’s) social status. Monuments were usually symbolic – either religious (crosses, angels, the letters IHS, a monogram for Jesus Savior of Man in Greek), symbols of profession (whip and horseshoes for a coach driver, swords for a general, palette for a painter), or symbols of death.

A wreath decorates the gates of Preston Cemetery

I’ve taken a load of photos of some of the memorials, but you can be sure there is a surfeit of extraordinary plots and memorials to be seen. Many of the memorials are unsurprisingly, but very sadly for babies and children of all ages, from the tiniest infant through to children of 10 and upwards into teens.

memorials on the newer side

These early deaths are not limited to the Victorians, one memorial I saw was for two babies from the same family who died a few days apart at 3 months and 3.5 months, along with a number of other family members, different times, all young. Oh the tragedy.

this appears to be a family plot…so many all with the same name; some mere infants

In all my years of exploring cemeteries around the UK, I have never seen so many memorials for infants 😦

Although cemeteries have an air of sadness and desolation about them, they are fascinating places to visit with so many stories of lives lived, some long, many short, others in service to King and Country. Preston Cemetery is also the location for Commonwealth War Graves……too young!!

Commonwealth War Graves – WW1

These cemeteries are also places of incredible beauty.

Preston Cemetery, Lancashire

I love the many graveyards and cemeteries I find on my travels around the UK, Preston has certainly been one of my favourites.

life and death; autumn beauty in a Victorian cemetery

A couple of interesting, albeit gruesome articles about death, dying and cemeteries in Victorian England and London.

http://listverse.com/2015/06/21/10-odd-and-eerie-tales-of-londons-victorian-cemeteries/

https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2015/jan/22/death-city-grisly-secrets-victorian-london-dead

Posted in around the UK, cities and towns of the UK, Historical, Travel | Tagged cemeteries of the UK, English counties, English Heritage, exploring the UK, not just a granny, preston cemetery lancashire, travel in europe, Victorian cemeteries, victorian memorials | 2 Comments »

a day trip to Hastings…part 2

November 27, 2016 by notjustagranny

The 1066 story includes the Norman Castle built in Hastings by order of William, Duke of Normandy aka William the Conqueror after the Battle of Hastings….ironically fought at a place now called Battle and not at Hastings per se. So it was vitally important that we visited the castle. After our visit to the East Cliff, it was off on a jaunt across town to see the ruins of the marvellous Hastings Castle on the West Cliff. Heading more or less straight across town, I took her along a route I had used before, a pathway and steps that took us past the blue house and so to the top of the cliff. The architecture and houses along the way are a delight.

1066 country, a visit to hastings, seaside towns of britain

a walk through Hastings from the East Cliff to the West Cliff

We meandered past some marvellous places that set the juices flowing with house-envy and stopped often to admire the view. After a relatively easy walk we reached the top of the cliff and so to the castle.

the view from West Cliff across Hastings towards East Cliff – thats my sister on the ground 😉

Originally a wooden tower built on top of a man-made mound or motte surrounded by an outer courtyard or bailey, Hastings castle was typical of the Norman motte and baily castle that would become a common fixture across England following the conquest. Subsequent to his victory at the Battle of Hastings, and after being crowned on Christmas Day 1066, William issued orders that Hastings Castle was to be rebuilt in stone.

1066 country, william the conqueror and hastings castle

the 1066 story and William the Conqueror. Hastings

The ruins we see today are less than half of the original structure that remained after the savage storms of the 13th century when the harbour was destroyed and large parts of the castle fell into the sea. There is enough to leave you in awe of what there once was. It was a mighty fortress that saw the Kings and Queens of Britain visit on many occasions.

1066 country, hastings castle, a visit to hastings, seaside towns of britain

scenes of Hastings Castle. Much of the original castle fell away when the cliffs collapsed

The chapel is in a far better state of repair, so to speak and you can wander and wonder amongst the ruins. I love to just stand still and imagine the scenes of yesteryear with Kings and Queens arriving for once est or another…Knights, Priests, Lords, Ladies, Hand-Maidens, Servants and Serfs…..what a melee it must have been.

scenes of the ruined chapel at Hastings Castle; The Collegiate Church at St-Mary-in-the-Castle was built in about 1075

One of the things I love most is to run my hand over the stones and flint of these ancient places and try to imagine the person who placed it there….how did they live, where were they from, were they young or old, did they have family…..how long did they live. Because lets face it, I’m pretty certain the builders of these castles probably didn’t have the same privileges our builders of today have! I’d say they probably lived very poorly and were not very well treated by their masters and without doubt the Health and Safety elves hadn’t yet made an appearance!!

imagine the amount of work that went into this wall….

Hastings Castle is a fascinating part of British history that includes ‘The 1066 Story’. An exciting 20 minute audio-visual programme covering the Conquest and the history of the castle through the centuries can be seen on the premises. The short film is well worth watching as it gives you a better idea of how the castle looked before the cliffs gave way and it vanished never to be seen again…except perhaps in the houses that used the pebbles and stones to rebuild some of the more ‘modern’ places you see today.

There is a small underground dungeon you can visit…..nothing too fearsome – certainly not like some dungeons I have seen in the past, but interesting nevertheless to imagine the people who trod those stairs centuries ago.

the dungeon….my sister looking a tad trepidatious climbing down the stairs

Although not as impressive as Dover Castle just up the coast and in much better nick, I do enjoy exploring the walls and nooks and crannies of Hastings Castle. I also love the views across the channel. Imagine how awe-inspiring it must have looked to the sailors of yesteryear as they approached the English coastline…..did they come in peace, were they merchantmen intent on trade, or pilgrims seeking a passage to Canterbury, or were they soldiers who quaked in fear of the unknown daunted by the size of the castle, or were they fearless warriors intent on mischief.

1066 country, hastings castle, english channel

view across the English Channel towards France

My sister and I meandered, and admired, took hundreds of photos and then before they locked us in for the night we took ourselves off back down to the town.

I love Hastings…it is so quirky with loads of history and amazing houses to photograph. Definitely well deserving of a 9+ for interesting ‘things to see’.

Hastings – 1066 country with a history that dates back over 950 turbulent years

Then a quick stop for hot jacket potatoes filled with a yummy concotion at the Hot Potato in Queens Road and then into the car and back to Rye….what a great day. I know for sure I’ll visit Hastings again some day.

Along the way we stopped along the Pett Level Road to watch the sunset. Glorious!!

watching the sunset from Pett Level Road between Winchelsea Beach and Pett Level

For more information on Hastings Castle and the 1066 story

Posted in around the UK, Castles of UK and Ireland, Historical, Palaces and castles in UK, seaside towns of Britain, Travel | Tagged 1066 story, Hastings and the 1066 story, hastings castle, history of britain, kings of england, William the Conqueror | Leave a Comment »

a day trip to Hastings…part 1

November 26, 2016 by notjustagranny

My sister recently celebrated her birthday in the UK and as a special treat because we had Fiona (my daughter’s car), I drove us down to Hastings for the day; 1066 country. I love Hastings, it’s one of my favourite places to go. I remember my very first trip there a few years ago…I nearly didn’t leave again LOL

We set off right after breakfast and on the way we stopped at a field that looks over Pewis Marsh, most of which covers the ancient medieval town of Winchelsea, largely abandoned in the 15th century. The field contains the remains of the west wall of St John’s Hospital; an almshouse for the poor.

a day trip to 1066 country on 21 October – celebrating my sister’s birthday

1066 marks a very special year in the history of England and the UK, and it was in fact on the 14 October 1066 that King Harald lost his life at the ‘Battle of 1066’ in an area that is now called Battle.

Reaching Hastings after a fab drive through the country, we started off at the fantastic Hastings Pier; we walked right to the end to admire the view and marvel at the history.

1066 country hastings, seaside towns of britain

Hastings Pier. with a remarkable history the pier played a part in the war

From there we walked along the promenade to see the amazing new sculpture installed on the beach in honour of the arrival of the Vikings.

hastings, norman long boat sculpture, seaside towns of britain

Norman Long boat sculpture on the beach at Hastings, by Leigh Dyer to mark the 950th anniversary of the Battle of Hastings

After that we meandered along and discovered the little train that takes you from the beach-front to the fishing village/harbour….so it was all aboard and off we went to Rock-A-Nore Station – pay on the train. It was too much fun….we felt like kids again!!

hastings, rock-a-nore train station, seaside towns of britain

a train ride to Rock-A-Nore Station, Hastings

Then it was back down to earth and a meander through town…we were planning on looking for the ‘Piece of Cheese Cottage’ and stumbled upon it quite by accident.

hastings, the piece of cheese cottage, 1066 country

The Piece of Cheese Cottage, Hastings

The architecture in Hastings is too twee and quaint for words and we had such an amazing few hours just ambling about photographing every last detail.

Hastings architecture

By now we were in dire need of a sit down and refreshments so stopped off at the nearest pub where we made ourselves comfortable in two old armchairs.

time for a bit of R&R

After that we headed over to the fishing village where we visited the Fishermens Museum …a marvellous collection of nautical artefacts and a fabulous old ship lodge comfortably together.

the delightful fishing village in the old harbour

We ambled about admiring the collection and then climbed the stairs to reach the deck of the Enterprise RX278.

The RX278 Enterprise – lodges comfortably now in the Fishermens Museum

The fabulous Fishermens Museum

hastings, 1066 country, fishing harbour, fishermens museum

the Fishermens Museum – located inside a church built on the Stade in 1852, which fell out of use after the Second World War.

The funicular to the top of the East Cliff enticed us and before too long we were on our way to the top. The United Kingdom’s steepest funicular railway is not only a structure of national importance but also a source of immense local pride.
The East Hill Lift provides access to Hastings Country Park which overlooks the Old Town and Rock-a-Nore.

1066 country, hastings east hill cliff railways

taking the cable car to the top of the east cliffs at Hastings

As we were about to step out the cable car the attendant said to my sister “there go the Russian ships” – my sister was like “yeah right!!” but ohmygosh….yes it was indeed the Russian Navy enroute to Syria using our waters to get there. Very provocative. I knew they were due to sail past the English coast round about that time, but didn’t expect to actually see them. We spent some time enthralled in conspiracy theories.

1066 country, hastings, seaside towns of britain, view from east cliff

the view from the East Cliff across Hastings Old Town – you can see the pier in the distance

Then it was off on a jaunt across Hastings Old Town to see the ruins of the marvellous Hastings Castle on the West Cliff.

1066 story, hastings, map of old town and the stade

a map of Hastings Old Town & The Stade

Part 2 of a day trip to Hastings – follows Sunday 27th at 19:10

Posted in around the UK, family and relationships, Fun Stuff, Historical, Holidays, Palaces and castles in UK, seaside towns of Britain, Travel | Tagged 1066 country, fishermens museum hastings, not just a granny travels, places to visit in kent, silver surfers travel, The East Hill Lift Hastings, the piece of cheese cottage hastings, things to do in hastings, visit hastings in 1066 country | Leave a Comment »

Dickens House Museum in Broadstairs

November 23, 2016 by notjustagranny

I’ve lived in Broadstairs for just over two years now. With a number of connections to this famous author, Broadstairs has much to offer the Charles Dickens fan….including myself. However, as so often happens in life, when something is on your doorstep you tend to ‘put it off till another time’. So since I have an impending move to Ramsgate in my stars…I decided to visit the Dickens House Museum BEFORE I move elsewhere.

charles dickens, dickens house museum, david copperfield charles dickens, broadstairs

David Copperfield – Dickens House Museum, Broadstairs

Charles Dickens lived in Broadstairs at many different stages of his life and a number of his books were either written here or inspired by characters in the area. He also, by all accounts, manage to live at quite a few different addresses in the area….a bit like me LOL However, although known as Dickens House Museum, Charles didn’t actually live in the house. It was in fact once the home of a friend; Miss Mary Pearson on whom he based much of the character of Miss Betsy Trotwood, David Copperfield’s great-aunt.

Dickens House Museum, Broadstairs

Stepping over the threshold into the museum is like stepping back in time to another era, you almost expect Dickens to come slowly down the stairs, book in hand.

Dickens’ Sideboard

Lovingly restored, with objects and furniture from that era, the house is filled with some items wonderful pieces from a wedding dress to the tiniest pieces of jewellery.

a Victorian wedding dress, Victorian sewing items, various objects d’art and a collection of photos depicting houses associated with Dickens and a scene from the front room

You can see a copy of his will, his sideboard, and a fascinating collection of photos of properties related to Dickens.

Betsy Trotwood’s Parlour, Dickens House Museum

A reconstruction of Betsy Trotwood’s Parlour as described by Dickens in chapter 15 of David Copperfield.

The reconstructed nursery is utterly charming; you can almost hear the laughter of the children.

dickens house museum, betsy trotwood, david copperfield, charles dickens

The nursery

The Dickens House Museum is located just a few yards from the Victorian Promenade that runs along the clifftop looking out over Viking Bay and Broadstairs Beach.

a view of the bay from the cliff top

Broadstairs is a quintessential British seaside town with so much to offer, from ice-cream parlours, tea-shops, museums, Bleak House (where Dickens actually lived) a marvellous hotel, antique shops, artisan bakeries, a plethora of restaurants and some wonderful seaside town souvenir shops where you can buy buckets and spades.

a delightful seaside shop in Broadstairs

Come visit sometime 😉

p.s. we also have many typical High Street shops and charities

You can reach Broadstairs by train from St Pancras Station via Ashford or Victoria Station via Rochester from London.

Posted in around the UK, Fun Stuff, Historical, It's my life, seaside towns of Britain, Travel | Tagged Charles Dickens in Broadstairs, dickens house museum broadstairs, seaside towns of Britain, things to do in broadstairs, visit england | Leave a Comment »

stamp the washing

November 22, 2016 by notjustagranny

We had such a laugh today with my current client. We were reminiscing about washing machines (yeah, I know)… LOL She was relating something about her life and suddenly a memory popped into my head…..so I related something about mine….like how for a few years we didn’t have a washing machine. My Mother used to put the weeks’ washing into the bathtub on a Friday morning, fill it with soap-powder and hot water and leave it to soak.

When my sister and I got home in the afternoon after school, right after lunch the first thing we had to do was ‘stamp’the washing!! Shoes and socks off, into shorts and tops and into the bath! We would then, amidst gales of laughter and a good deal of splashing about, stamp the washing. That was my Mother’s answer to a washing machine. hahaha

We would move the washing about from one end to the other, stamp, stamp, stamp, up and down, trying our best to push the other over as we passed on our way from one end to the other….then rotate the loads over and over…and stamp, stamp, stamp.

Then the water would be drained and cold water run in, again and again as we went stamp, stamp, stamp until my Mother was satisfied all the soap power and dirt had been rinsed out.

Finally after about an hour or so we were able to climb out the bath dry our feet and then the worst part started….squeezing the water out the washing! OhMyGosh. If you have ever had to wring out a sheet, you’ll know how tedious a job this is. But we had great arm muscles.

We also had the cleanest feet in the neighbourhood.

our first washing machine – we got one almost exactly the same as this…hooray for the rollers

Then it was out and onto the wash-line. I’ll always remember the sight of our sparkling white sheets, gleaming and whipping in the wind. Luckily for us, unlike here in the UK, we could depend on the weather…..summer was a breeze…no pun! The laundry dried in no time at all and then it was time to fold and pack it all away.

sheets blowing in the wind

One of the things I remember too is that my Mother didn’t believe in ironing sheets! Most sensible in my opinion…especially as I don’t iron ANYTHING if I can possibly avoid it. She always said that if we ironed the sheets, we would be ironing the sunshine out!!! Perfect!

My client feels we were hard done by!

I saw the washing machine in the above image at the Science Museum in London in their The Secret Life of the Home Exhibition. A must visit…they have some of the most astounding items! Visit The Secret Life of the Home to see how the design of household gadgets has changed over time.

Posted in family and relationships, Fun Stuff, It's my life, Uncategorized | Tagged its my life, london museums, memories are made of this, science museum london, technology, the secret life of the home science museum, washing machines | Leave a Comment »

Hidden gems of Ramsgate

November 19, 2016 by notjustagranny

On my many Camino practice walks during this year I had occasion to walk along the clifftop between Ramsgate and Broadstairs and although I see the signs pointing to the Italian castle, I usually ignore it since my walks are usually quite focused and I don’t divert from my path.

But a few weeks ago while on a leisurely stroll I decided to heed the sign and headed off into the trees. I had no idea what to expect, but to my absolute delight I discovered a hidden gem of Ramsgate; The Italianate Greenhouse.

hidden gems in ramsgate, italianate greenhouse ramsgate

Italianate Greenhouse, King George VI Memorial Park, Ramsgate – a hidden gem

Stepping out of the trees, there before me was a totally unexpected sight; an ethereal-looking greenhouse that dates from the 19th century and appears to grow out of the castellated red-brick wall behind it. Erected in the grounds of East Cliff Lodge in 1832 by Sir Moses Montefiore (1784-1885) who saw the structure in an auction catalogue and bought it, it was originally part of Bretton Hall in Yorkshire.

Constructed of cast iron curving ribs, the greenhouse is covered with fish-scale glass panes. Not very big, it houses an amazing collection of plants, of which the rather marvellous grapevine is certainly an attraction!!

the rather marvellous grapevine

The Greenhouse was recently the focus of attention when one of the Mexican Agave plants, after reaching 30ft bloomed for the first time. Apparently this only happens once every 100 years, so as you can imagine folks visited from far and wide to see this extraordinary event.

On the day of my visit, things were a little calmer and besides a family of 5 enjoying afternoon tea in the weakening sunshine, and a volunteer who was trimming the grass edges, I was quite alone to explore and enjoy. The garden is a delight.

Italianate Greenhouse and garden at Ramsgate

The Greenhouse is a Grade II* listed building and opens at certain times of the year, mostly in summer, for viewing and a chance to relax in the Tea Garden. For more information visit http://new.italianateglasshouse.co.uk/ The area through which you can reach the greenhouse is now known as King George VI Memorial Park.

The volunteers on site were very friendly and helpful and gave me an impromptu guided tour 😉

How to get there:

Access to the greenhouse and park is from either Montefiore Avenue or on the sea-side from Victoria Parade. It’s 50 meters away from the Montefiore Avenue entrance and a short stroll across the park from Victoria Parade.

The Tea Garden is open on fine weather summer days from approx 10.30am Tuesday to Sunday and Bank Holidays. The Greenhouse is open between 9am – 5pm weekdays from 1 April to 30 September. Enquiries: 07868722060.

Posted in around the UK, Fun Stuff, Historical, It's my life, seaside towns of Britain, Travel | Tagged hidden gems in ramsgate, hidden gems in ramsgate, italianate greenhouse ramsgate, italianate greenhouse in ramsgate, mexican agave plant blooms in ramsgate, things to do in ramsgate, tourism in the UK, visit england | Leave a Comment »

L is for Lancashire

November 18, 2016 by notjustagranny

How exciting…..I have now added Lancashire to the list of counties I have visited in the UK. Slowly but surely I am getting there….in the not too distant future I will have visited all the counties in England at least 😉

I started this job on Wednesday this week and after a VERY early morning start from Broadstairs

Broadstairs 07:11 on 16th November

and three train changes I was on my way up nooooth!! The landscape from the train is just stunning. We whizzed along past towns and cities, briefly glimpsed as the train rushed by. There’s something quite thrilling about high-speed train travel…

My view from the train….stunning scenery and a rainbow

The further north we travelled, the more beautiful the landscape got….the autumnal colours are astounding; richer, brighter colours that made me want to stop the train so I could take photos; rich red, burnt orange, vibrant yellow and crispy brown all paint a bright palette against the evergreens. I was lucky enough to glimpse a rainbow too!!

As we drew nearer to Preston (my destination) we crossed over a river!!! Absolutely stunning. Unfortunately I was just too slow with my camera to capture it. I will have to investigate…can’t let a river go by and not explore!

Preston Station is a relic of those marvellous Victorians who created so many beautiful structures, structures that have stood the test of time and continue to amaze us still today. Welcome to Lancashire!

Welcome to Lancashire

I hopped into a taxi and hoped it would head towards the river, but no, to my intense disappointment we are miles away from the centre of Preston 😦 in a suburb called Ribbleton; a seemingly purpose-built town that’s been absorbed into the fabric of the city and now features as a suburb; Ribbleton was a civil parish from 1866 until 1 April 1934 at which time it was absorbed into the County Borough. According to wikipedia, Ribbleton has a library, a number of shops, a pub, post offices and schools. Whoaaaa….I’m definitely going to be exploring that then #not!!! LOL Oh well.

Preston station, Lancashire

My assignment is a double-up with a second Carer and since the notes from the agency said that the Carer can leave the house for their breaks, I thought (mistakenly) that I would be able to hop on a bus and go explore the city centre…but no, the outgoing carer said we can’t leave for more than an hour!! ffs. It really annoys me when I get fed misinformation.

I do believe that the house is near to the Preston Cemetery, so at least I can get to check that out. The cemetery opened July 2nd, in 1855 and according to their website there are 60,108 people interred there with 14,458 gravestones and 3816 different surnames. The earliest year of death is 1781, with the first interment being one: Elizabeth Frances Christian. I did a bit of research on surnames just for fun and although I found a few ‘Eves’ I didn’t find any ‘Eve’ surnames, so I’m guessing we didn’t head this way then…..

I had occasion to step out yesterday to buy the paper for M’Lady and walked past the cemetery….the trees look amazing

Autumn colours in the cemetery

So if I am to explore Preston and see the city it will have to be within the two hours before I leave the city. What a shame. Meanwhile with a bit of research I have discovered the following:

Preston is the birthplace of Teetotalism and the Temperance Founder one Edward Grubb; The Last Survivor of that Heroic Band of Preston Pioneer Advocates by Whose Devoted and Self-Sacrificing Labours the TEETOTAL REFORM was extended from a Local to a National and World-Wide Movement. You can read a little more about Edward Grubb here.

Preston obtained city status in 2002, becoming England’s 50th city in the 50th year of Queen Elizabeth II’s reign. Located on the north band of the River Ribble that runs through North Yorkshire and Lancashire, the Angles established Preston; its name is derived from the Old English meaning “priest’s settlement”. In the 1086 Domesday Book it is recorded as “Prestune”. Needless to say the Romans have been here….and during that period Roman roads passed close to what is now the centre of Preston. The Romans built some amazing roads during their tenure, one of which ran from Luguvalium (Carlisle) to Mamucium (Manchester) and crossed the River Ribble at Walton-le-Dale, 3⁄4 mile (1 km) southeast of the centre of the city.

So, in summary, I’m dying to get out and explore!!! But when? Urgh. The joys of my job.

Posted in around the UK, Historical, Travel | Tagged English counties, Preston Lancashire, travel in the UK,, travel in the UK | 1 Comment »

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