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Well, my serial 'The Turn of the Tide' in The People's Friend magazine comes to an end this week. It's amazed me how quickly the weeks have whizzed by. It seems only a short while since I was excitedly waiting for the first episode! My thanks again to everyone who helped and encouraged me. It's been quite an adventure  These pictures are of the Freddie Cooper at the Aldeburgh station on the East Coast. The fact that the story was set in North Cornwall made no difference to their kindness and helpfulness in answering my questions, of course! http://www.rnli.org.uk/ I've begun a separate, occasional blog about the background to the story: some childhood memories of Cornwall, aspects of how the story came about, and what might happen to it next, here: http://theturnofthetide-penelope.blogspot.com/ You're very welcome to take a look! | | |
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Imprisoned at Ely in 1597, Sir Thomas Tresham planned his then fashionable garden of orchards, waterways and spiral viewing mounds. At this time of year, boots are definitely needed to see what people have managed to rescue or reconstruct of this dream. 
Looking a bit windblown here, to be sure - unsurprisingly! - but I think you can see the present-day orchard, carefully re-planted with ancient varieties of apple: 'Catshead' and 'Winter Queening' among them. I'm guessing you won't find them in your local supermarket... but who knows? 
Now here's one of the four spiral mounds, surviving 400 years to provide the same function as they used to... a place for exercise [I can vouch for that!] with a rewarding view of the garden once you reach the top. Oh, and also to accommodate the ladies' farthingales as they walked.... not that I was wearing one of those, or I might have preferred to stay at the bottom! 
Beside the waterways, to admire the reflections. They brim with water, but there is no spring, no river. Just rainwater held in clay-lined canals. 
The house again, in the distance. Uncovering and restoring the gardens, according to the old plans and letters re-discovered in the nineteenth century, is still a work-in-progress, so there's always something new to see. I'm still cleaning the boots, but it's always worth it
This is a great read! | | |
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Lyvedon New Bield ['New Building'] never quite happened, but it's certainly left its mark on top of the remote and windy Northamptonshire hill we visited yesterday. No glass in the windows, no doors, no roof... just stone slots ready and waiting to support the floorboards that never arrived. The amazingly still-sharp-edged examples of the stonemasons' skill in the letters and shields carved into the stones also remain. 400 years ago, Sir Thomas Tresham planned this building to be his 'garden lodge,' where he could entertain guests, who after strolling up from the old manor house through lush orchards and soothing waterways, would be suitably impressed by lavish hospitality. Despite periods of virtual 'house arrest', which kept him away from his work, he was very precise in planning its dimensions and decorations. He used the numbers 3, 5 and 7 to demonstrate both his Roman Catholic faith, and a typically Elizabethan love of ingenious puzzles. Sir Thomas, and his eldest son Francis [implicated in the Gunpowder Plot] both died in 1605. Unpaid workmen downed tools, never to take them up again. What visitors see now is an almost unaltered Elizabethan building site. Truthful, gripping and unsentimental tale about the first World War. Written for children, but to be enjoyed by anyone who likes a good story. | | |
| Well, the steering went for a second time on the new-to-us, but second-hand really, Fabia just as we were on the way to swimming. A scary moment. Himself managed to get us through town in low gear and out to the garage, where once again The Man sat in the front seat with the engine running, jiggled the steering to be certain it really had failed as we'd said. He told us he'd get the parts asap, and promised All Would Be Well. Which it was last time, of course. Until it went wrong this time. Luckily, the warranty is still in place, so at least repairs are at no cost to us - yet. Meanwhile, would we like a courtesy car? Since we're loaded up with swimming gear and shopping bags and a fair trudge away from the town centre, yes we'd be very glad if The Man could find us alternative transport. Preferably something suitable for a couple of OAPs with a quiet attitude to life and the occasional creak in the knees. So what did we get? A little orange VW tastefully stencilled with curly black dragons. Nice. This week, you'll see us coming! This book seemed an appropriate choice at the moment! I read the series some time ago, and if you're feeling at all down in spirit, a holiday on Pern will undoubtedly do you good. | | |
|  The striking horns are functional, allowing the bascule bridge to open for taller vessels. 
On the other side of Pero's Bridge... a musician was playing a Kora. He told me it is a West African harp, the sound amplified by that magnificent gourd. Modern versions may use guitar-style pegs rather than the traditional leather straps, but tuning it still needs as much expertise as the playing. The sound is golden, resonant and brings a lump to the throat.. I asked if I could take a photograph? Sure, he said. But I really wish you could hear the sound as well! So who was Pero, and why does he have a bridge named for him here? Well, Pero was a slave brought to Bristol, probably from the Caribbean island of Nevis, around 1783... because, as we shouldn't forget, Bristol was once a part of the infamous Triangle of Trade. | | |
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