Tag Archive | norfolk

London is all A-Buzz!

Jul24

Friday, July 23, 2010
London

Amy and I raced off to Thetford where our friends Cynthia and Michael were meeting us. We arrived almost on time and I continued with the Colcloughs on their onward journey by car to London. The time just flew as we caught up on our lives.

By the time we reached London it was 1. 00 pm (time for a quickly rustled up lunch of toast and scrambled eggs). I was shown up to my room in a–get this–Christopher Wren home. The master architect designed this new block of terraced housing in 1670 right after the Great Fire of London in 1666. The rooms are huge and the interiors, beautifully detailed–marble fireplaces, ornamental plasterwork on the ceiling, tall sash windows, wide sweeping staircases, grand landings, a full apartment on the third floor reached by a separate servants’ staircase–in other words, a home after my own heart! Who would ever have thought that one day I’d be living in a Christopher Wren home? How’s that for having a dream come true? How do I know the history of this home? Because last year when I was in the Geffrye Museum, this block of housing was featured in it as one of London’s earliest examples of post-fire grandeur. Gone was the timber that had gone up in flames. Brick and stone would be the new idiom of the New London. And Wren got it right–after all these years…no centuries, it is holding up splendidly, though Cynthia apologized to me about the aged plumbing and the need to have the bathrooms modernized–which should happen right after my departure. I, on the other hand, found everything fascinatingly old-world.

I drew the curtains in my room and guess what? I discovered that my windows overlook the great big dome of the Old Bailey. The Goddess of Justice holds her weighing scales in her hands in superb gilded splendour! And every hour and half hour, I hear the tolling bells of St. Paul’s Cathedral reminding me that Tempus Fugit! Dreams, dreams, dreams, do come true….

The Colcoughs have made me very comfortable indeed. They are gracious hosts and are including me in everything though I have assured them that I am an old London hand and know it like the back of my…well.,.hand. After I settled in, I set off alone to cover the remaining items on my To-Do List and it was at Covent Garden that I began. It was a gorgeous afternoon–perfect English summer weather–dry and cool unlike the oppressive heat we have on the North Atlantic coast and in Canada at this time of year. Covent Garden was simply crawling with tourists and the buskers (street entertainers) were attracting large crowds (I felt such a strong sense of deja-vu as this was exactly the London Llew and I had encountered when I first came to live here, two years ago).

I headed straight for the London Transport Museum (which is one of those I hadn’t covered earlier) and spent the next 2 hours there. I have to say that I was disappointed. I have certainly seen better museums. It failed to evoke in me the sense of bygone London no matter how hard I tried to capture it. Not worth the 8 pound entry fee, but that is just my personal opinion. No doubt, if you are a kid, this is paradise.

I walked around Covent Garden and wished I had more time to visit my favorite old haunts (Carluccio’s for its superlative citron tarts and Hope and Greenwood for artisinal chocolates)–but I had to press on as the Colcloughs had invited me to a barbecue party in St. Paul’s Gardens. I did mange to buy a citron tart from Patisserie Valerie, however, and I munched it on the bus back to Ludgate Hill.

Spent a really glorious evening meeting a variety of lovely people as Cynthia introduced me around. By far, the most interesting was a jolly white-haired man who was a personal friend of author Vikram Seth–we had so much to talk about as he was very up on Indian Post-Colonial Literature. During our very absorbing discussion, I discovered that he was once Governor of Hongkong and Master of a Cambridge college and was on back-slapping terms with the Nobel Prize winning economist Amartya Sen–you can imagine what a fascinating conversation that was! We exchanged business cards before departing when I discovered that I had been speaking to Sir David, Lord Wilson of Tillyorn. I also enjoyed meeting his wife Lady Nicola–a really pretty, very gracious lady. I am sorry that I will be missing the Sunday lunch at the Chaplain’s house to which I have also been invited…but then my friend Bash has offered to drive me to Wisley Royal Gardens that are spectacular at this time of year–and it is an offer I cannot refuse.
The barbecue meal was just superb–not the usual hamburgers and hot dogs that we usually feature at a cook out in the States. This one featured juicy pesto chicken, really perfectly done burgers (yes, they were there), tasty sausages (chipolatas?), coleslaw and potato salad and glass noodles and lovely grilled radicchi0 with pine nuts. The ‘puddings’, Cynthia told me, would be the best part, so we waited though she became chilly as the evening wore on, for little individual cups of Pimms jelly with fruit, strawberries and cream and raspberry mousse with chocolate–all quite delicious and so very classy!

Our evening ended when Cynthia drove me to my former building at High Holborn so I could pick up my suitcase from the flat of my friends, Tim and Barbara, where I had left it on the morning I vamoosed to Norfolk. It was great to see them again briefly and off we went (Edward, Cynthia’s son) and me to the waiting car.

I caught up on my email and blogging because…yes! I am finally online again in my room through wifi and how fabulous it feels to be able to reach out to the world again. Calls to Llew and Chriselle have kept me abreast of the fact that she will soon be home bound to the States and that Llew is enjoying having a houseful of friends who have descended down upon him from Canada and Maine to partake of the offerings of our local Pequot Library Book Sale in Southport.

Tomorrow, I join the Colcloughs on a day trip to the Midlands where I have never been before–just north of Birmingham in a small town called Litchfield. Hope the weather holds out…

Messin’ About on the Norfolk Broads

Jul23

Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wroxham, Norfolk Broads

I was excited when I awoke this morning as I’ve wanted to visit the Norfolk Broads for years. Trouble is, they’re located in the midst of nowhere–which makes it impossible to get to by public transport. So I was grateful when my friend Amy offered to spend the day with me, which included chauffeuring me to the network of rivers and lakes that make up the famous waterways.

We arrived at Wroxham along animal-studded country roads from Gorleston-in-Sea in about 40 minutes. Wroxham is considered the entry to the Broads and it was strange to suddenly see a congregation of folks when for miles on end no one was in sight. The River Bure passes through the picturesque village that features a clutch of bridges, some old-fashioned and made of stone, others designed in the manner of the Hudson River’s Verrazano Bridge with slim metal cables. Swans dotted the waters and came close to the shore for tidbits. We parked at Roy’s, a famous department store that touts itself as “the world’s largest village store.”

Because the best way to see the Broads is by boat, I suggested to Amy that we rent one. Believing that we’d be required to pilot our own boat for the entire day, she understandably balked at the notion. When I reassured her that I had no more than a couple of hours in mind, she banished all thoughts of possible sea-sickness from her mind and fell in stride with my designs. So, off we headed to Broads Tours to book the 2.00 pm tour on the Vintage Broadlands, a steamship-like ferry–similar to the ones that huffed and puffed on the Mississippi in Huck Finn’s days–and headed off for lunch.

Though I’d breakfasted fairly well, the drive through open fields and pasture had whetted my appetite for some hearty country ‘fayre’ and we found sustenance in Hotel Wroxham’s Carvery that was a real steal at 5.95 pounds. We spent the next hour on a table by the water watching watercraft zip in and out of the Broads as we feasted on roast turkey and roast beef with all the fixin’s–read Yorkshire puds, roasted spuds and a number of crisply cooked veggies–parsnips, carrots, cauliflower–oh and loads of gravy and horseradish sauce. It wasn’t really very tasty but it was substantial and with the sun shining down on a gorgeous day, there really wasn’t anything major to complain about.

Well satiated, we headed for the Broads Tours’ parking lot where we boarded our ferry and set off to the welcome cheers of our skipper who doubled up as a guide. For the next hour and a half, he kept us enthralled with his monologue on the history of the Broads and how they came to be created–they are, in fact, the UK’s largest man-made attraction. The Broads National Park is a network of waterways that were cut into the earth by thousands of local inhabitants for about two hundred years in the Middle Ages. Their objective was to draw out peat, a cheap and very reliable fuel. So plentifully was peat to be found in the area that it was exported to Europe where it was well-renowned. However, two centuries of hacking into the earth finally took its toll on the land and when the shallow water table began seeping upwards, it flooded the channels carved out in the peat ‘fields’. The end result is the collection of canal-like waterways that abound today in bird life. It was mainly to go ‘birding’ (bird-watching in American) that I was in the Broads.

And I wasn’t disappointed. Bird life is abundant and our feathered friends seemed well accustomed to the dozens of craft that skim the waters. They swim exceptionally close to the boats allowing ornithologists abundant opportunities to pursue their hobby. Amy and I exclaimed over the cute thatched roof cottages that were perched along the banks and at the families of coots we saw everywhere. I now understand the expression “as bald as a coot”–coots are black birds with white patches in the middle of their foreheads which make them seem as if they are bald. In addition to coots, we saw ducks, mallards, teals, white and the very rare black swans, herons, geese and a bunch of other unusual birds with whose names I am not familiar. The waters were calm and so clean that water-lilies grew in the vast expanses of Wroxham and Salford Broads over which our boat skimmed. We could not have asked for a nicer day or more pleasant temperatures.

All too soon, we had to stop messin’ about on the river and into the car we scrambled just as fat raindrops pelted us. We drove at top speed towards Norwich and the University of East Anglia where Amy wanted to take me so that I could see the permanent collection of the Sainsbury Center for Visual Arts, one of the smallest but most significant private collections in this part of the UK. What was even more significant to me than the art works themsevles was the fact that the building was designed by Sir Norman Foster with whose work I am familiar (he designed Wobbly Bridge as well as the City Hall Building in London–which Prince Charles infamously described as being “a carbuncle on the face of the city!”) Be that as it may, this building, with its exposed metal work on its two sides, set a Modernist trend that has been endlessly imitated by other contemporary architects.

Inside, the permanent collection is a small and very eclectic one. The works on display belong to Lord Sainsbury who bequeathed his collection to the university. He had a marked fondness for certain modern abstract artists as was evident by the many works of Picasso, Francis Bacon and Modigliani that were recurrent. In addition, the collection comprises small to medium sized pieces (mainly sculptural) from exotic corners of the world such as Papua, New Guinea, Hawaii, Peru and Benin. They are superbly curated and very interestingly showcased. It doesn’t take more than a hour to see these works which are free to visitors. I kept wishing that more people would take advantage of viewing this fascinating collection.

Back en route home, we stopped at Tesco’s for groceries for our evening meal and settled for spinach and ricotta cheese ravioli with Jamie Oliver’s Pasta Sauce with Chilli which had a nice bite to it. I made up a salad with rocket using lemon vinaigrette as a dressing and by the time I had eaten my last morsel, I was stuffed and ready to hit the sack.

Tomorrow will be a long day as I journey to London to start the next segment of my English holiday.

In Norwich, Norfolk’s Cultural Capital

Jul22

Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Norwich

Those who own cars know nothing about long-distance public transport. Amy blanked out on how I could get to Norwich from Gorleston by bus. Me? Having lived in the UK for so long without a car, I had become something of an expert on figuring it out. Drive me to the High Street, I said, and I’ll find the way.

Inquiries from a sweet girl at the bus-stop revealed all the answers. Yes, the X1 gets directly from Gorleston to Norwich. No, no need to change at Great Yarmouth. Yes, the buses come every half hour. Yes, I can pay the driver cash on the bus. And yes, the driver does give back change. Yesssss!!!

Fifteen minutes later, I was on the bus passing through North Norfolk. We drove through Great Yarmouth (a bustling town) and then through miles of flat country punctuated by windmills (influence of the Dutch across the North Sea, perhaps?) and flocks of sheep, black and white cows and beautiful sturdy brown horses. I even saw a family of swans–Mum, Dad and about a handful of grey chicks! Awwwww!

Once in Norwich where we arrived in 55 minutes, I asked at the Information place for a schedule so I could get back home peacefully (lone travelers never want to have just missed the last bus!) when I discovered that I could buy a ticket there for the Hop On Hop Off sight-seeing bus (just £8 and such a boon to the single traveler–especially one afflicted with plantar fascittis). Buy a ticket I did and in exactly five minutes, along it came. It is a good suggestion to stay on the bus for one entire loop to get the marvelous commentary which provides the history of the place and orients one to the location of the main attractions. It also allows you to decide what your order of priorities should be in terms of hopping off and hopping on again. Norwich is compact and very walkable but the advantage of buses like these is that they take you to vantage points, sometimes way out of the city for wonderful views–as this bus did. It climbed a steep hill to Mousehold Heath which offered a stunning overview of the city and its magnificent church spires–there is a church for every Sunday of the year and a pub for each day of the year in Norwich–go figure!

During Saxon times, Norwich was a bigger ‘city’ than London–both in acreage as well as population. It made it’s wealth through the wool trade (not surprising, really, as sheep farming still thrives as I saw in the miles of open countryside). It is a city of impressive structures (castles, cathedrals, churches, gabled houses, guildhalls, etc.) and a popular tourist attraction. Unfortunately, it was a tad too hot for me and I found myself tiring much too easily because the heat sapped my energy levels.

I decided to Hop Off at Elm Hill (because I am a fan of all things Tudor) and walked straight into the Church of St. George at Tombland. They probably don’t get enough visitors because one of the volunteers latched onto me and then gave me a walking tour of the church pointing out pieces of masonry that were significant as well as the oldest piece in the church–a lovely Norman font.

Through Elm Hill I walked, utterly charmed by its cobbles and the Britton Arms Cafe which Lonely Planet touts as a delightful place–and it is, except that it was that funny time of day when you’re not really ready for a cup of tea or a snack. I kept going, nipping in and out of antiques shops and admiring the gabled buildings and the exposed timber facades (did not see any pargetting, though, as one finds on the medieval structures in Suffolk).

Across the street, I entered the Anglican Cathedral through the Erpingham Gate right by the statue of Edith Cavell and found myself in an enormous Cathedral Close. Admission is by donation only and the cathedral’s highlights are a fan-vaulted ceiling with ‘bosses’ (wooden discs set in the ceiling that depict stories from the Bible). They are really much too high up for one to appreciate them fully. Also wonderful is the Depenser Reredos, a medieval alter-piece divided into five sections showing Christ’s Passion, Resurrection and Ascension that was hidden for years during the post-Reformation turmoil to keep it from being stolen or ruined. I saw the newly-refurbished library before eating a sandwich in the Refectory. Surprisingly, there weren’t many visitors to the Cathedral at all which made it a perfect time for quiet prayer and reflection. Then, a kindly old lady, a Norwich resident, told me about the Herb Garden and how I could reach it and within seconds, I found myself in a lavender-scented bower with hollyhocks taller than me elbowing their way through the paths for attention. Norfolk is famous for its lavender which seems to grow wild everywhere–England’s Provence?

Next stop was the Castle, but I got waylaid en route by the seductions of an Edwardian closed shopping arcade called the Royal Arcade (lovely Art Nouveau tiles all over its walls and similar motifs on its floors). Inside was the Colman’s Mustard Shop and Museum as Jeremiah Colman who made his fortune with all the yellow dots of paste that people left on their plates initiated and ‘grew’ (as they say) his business in Norwich. Tasted a variety of mustards before I left without being tempted to buy anything. Saw more posh shops in the Royal Arcade before I wandered out on the streets to entwine my steps through Norwich Market–a colorful warren of stalls selling everything from food (bacon baps and fish n chips were some very British choices) to souvenirs.

Enough distraction, I chided myself, time for some serious sightseeing again. So I entered the Castle and spent the next hour viewing it’s excellent exhibition rooms on the ground floor–there was a wonderful collection of water colors and oils by John Croom who is considered one of England’s best landscape artists (a close rival of Constable), a superb collection of tea pots (the world’s largest) bequeathed to the museum by a private collector and quite significantly placed in the Twinings Tea Pot Gallery and a special exhibition entitled ‘From the Beatles to Bowie’ which featured a collection of black and white photographs of the pop icons of the 60s. I was thrilled to find one by John Pratt taken in 1963 featuring Cliff Richard at home with his mother Dorothy and sisters Jacqui and Joan in the new home in Nazeing, Essex, that he bought them after he struck it popular and rich. If all things come to pass as I hope they will and my book on Anglo-Indians in the UK is finally written and finds a publisher, I shall recommend this photograph for my book’s cover–provided I recieve permission, of course. I can dream, can’t it?

The Castle’s Keep is humongous–the largest in the UK and one of the best-preserved examples of a Norman castle. It has been recently refurbished (and rather well at that). The castle stands like a solid cube of Caen (French port) stone dominating the city and is visible from most points.
There is a lot to see and do in the inter-active exhibits inside the Keep but I had loads to see…and so I moved on.

I did find the time to nip into The Assembly House (one of the finest examples of Georgian architecture outside) with stunning plasterwork on its walls and ceiling inside (in the manner of Robert Adam), winking crystal chandeliers and lots of statuary. Most of the rooms have been converted into posh bars and tea rooms, but again, I had to move on to the nearby Forum (a recent glass structure that brings modern panache to an ancient city) and The Church of St. Peter Mancroft opposite that has a magnificent timber ceiling. As I wound my way through the city, I was simply amazed at how many churches there are–all made of the black flint stone so plentifully quarried in this region.

Time to hop on to the bus again and go to the Shrine of St. Julian of Norwich that my friend Bishop Michael told me I must not miss. I found it up a small hill and was stunned when I discovered how tiny it is. St. Julian (also known as Juliana) was a medieval mystic who saw visions of the Lord. She cloistered herself in a tiny cell adjoining the church and spent the rest of her life meditating upon those visions and writing down ‘The Revelations of Divine Love’ which is considered the first book written by a woman in English in England. Michael told me that she had two windows in her cell from which she looked out at the sick and the forlorn who came flocking to meet her. Her cell became a famous center of medieval pilgrimage. Even today, the quiet serenity of the spot is striking. I got in stride with a very pretty nun as fat raindrops suddenly fell from out of deep blue skies–‘Where are they coming from?’ asked the nun, perplexed.

By then it was almost 5.00 pm and I badly needed a pick me up I found a cuppa in the cafe at M&S where I settled down with a slice of White Chocolate, Raspberry and Coconut Cake which sounds far better than it was! I was amazed at how much I’d managed to cover and was disappointed that I could not find the time to squeeze in the Roman Catholic Church and the Plantation Garden behind it as well as the Sainsbury Center for Visual Art…but Amy has promised to take me there tomorrow after we tour the Broads.

Back home, we fixed a vegetable frittata and ate some good English bacon and baked beans for dinner before we gabbed about our respective day and went to bed.

Along the Pilgrim’s Way in Walsingham.

Jul21

Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Walsingham, Norfolk

One of my primary objectives in returning to the UK was to make a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Our Lady in Walsingham, one of the most fervent Catholic pockets in England. After a muesli breakfast (how great to feast again on Tesco’s Finest Fruit and Nut Muesli with Total Greek yogurt and a touch of honey), we set out with Amy behind the wheel across Norfolk to arrive at Walsingham where the famous Shrine is located.

What a charming little village it turned out to be! And what a swell backdrop for a reunion with my dear friends, Bishop Michael and wife Cynthia Colclough who drove from Hunstanton to meet me. One really cheery cuppa later, in a cute local tea room, where we caught up on everything that’s happened in our lives in the past 2 months since I last saw them in Southport, and we were ready to launch upon our pilgrimage. Michael was an able guide (he’s been leading pilgrims to Walsingham for years–it was, in fact, how he met Cynthia eons ago–she was a Catholic pilgrim on one of his Anglican retreats) as he led us to the Russian Orthodox Church dedicated to St. Seraphim and then to the Roman Catholic Church of the Assumption which is the local Catholic parish. He led us in prayer at the first venue and in the Angelus when the bells rang, mid-morning, at the second.

The next stop was the Anglican Church at Walsingham, set in beautiful perennial gardens with an olive tree allee before we entered the Lady Chapel where at 12. 30 pm, he said a special private mass just for us–I have never felt more privileged! Just imagine the joy of being in this ancient place where medieval Lady Richeldis had a vision telling her to build a shrine dedicated to the Holy Family in the year 1042. She obeyed and the spot became a place of Christian pilgrimage. known as ‘England’s Nazareth’. Imagine again…this happened before the Norman Conquest of England (1066)! How many pilgrim feet have trod these grounds, I wondered, over the centuries–from one millennium to the next! Six kings of England had made the pilgrimage to this spot including Henry VIII whose faith was so enormous that the Vatican gave him the title of the Defender of the Faith–until he razed the church and the adjoining abbey to the ground in 1538 during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. The church remained in ruins until the early 20th century when it was rebuilt to function again as a center for pilgrimage. Michael himself has been coming to this spot since the age of ten!

Michael had asked us to write down our own special intentions which he brought up to the altar and read during Mass–it was deeply moving. I thanked him, of course, as Amy dissolved into tears. She was so touched by the Holy Spirit and so grateful that she had dedicated the day to spiritual renewal with me.

Lunch was a buffet affair at the Refectory which was filled with almost 200 Welsh pilgrims who had taken over the place. We ate Chicken in a White Sauce with Leeks and Potatoes and Red Cabbage and Corn with a small Bakewell Tart for dessert. And I thought pilgrims were only fed bread and water! Just kidding! After lunch, we lingered for a while in the gardens where I returned Llew’s call–my phone had actually rung during Mass but I quickly silenced it! He caught up with the Colcloughs on the phone before we continued our pilgrimage.

Next stop was the Sprinkling at 2. 30pm where a wonderful aged priest led us in prayer, explained the significance of the Holy Well that had been found during the modern renovations of the church in the early 20th century. Many miracles and much healing has been known to take place, explained Cynthia, through the power of the holy water. The priest gave each one of us a ladle from which we drank of the water before he placed the rest in our fists so we could anoint ourselves and parts of our bodies that needed healing. Cynthia and Michael also filled bottles of water for Amy and me and sent us home with them.

Into the car we went, to the next stop on the Mile Long Pilgrim’s Way to the Slipper Chapel. This was the spot at which pilgrims left their slippers so that they could walk the last mile to Richeldis’ shrine barefooted. Modern-day pilgrims (mainly from Wales) were on their own feet (but with footwear on) as our cars followed the narrow winding pathway to the ancient church. This spot too, deeply active during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, fell into disuse after the Reformation. However, in 1934, it was re-dedicated as the National Catholic Shrine of the UK and once again, became an active center of Catholic pilgrimage. We prayed and lit candles at the old shrine–beautifully refurbished–before we entered the modern church (which reminded me very much of the churches in Canada in terms of architectural design) where we arrived just in time for Benediction and Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament at the special service being conducted for the Welsh pilgrims. So there we were, Amy and I, and the Colcloughs, joining in a special prayer for Wales!

By then, it was almost 4 pm. Our entire day of Christian worship had passed by in a jiffy but it was easily one of the most fulfilling days of my life. The serenity and calm of the space, the setting (in the midst of the North Norfolk countryside) where wild flowers (Queen Anne’s Lace and vivid red poppies) lined the narrow roads was rejuvenating. I imagined medieval pilgrims (a la Chaucer’s motley lot) making their way on foot and on horseback through those winding lanes. My Dad would be delighted to know that I found a leaflet in The Shrine Shop that taught me how to say the Rosary–in Bombay, he always leads and we follow…but I have never learned the Mysteries of the Rosary or on which days you recite them. Hopefully, I will now walk along Southport Beach and recite my rosary.

It was time to get into Amy’s car and follow the Colcloughs to Wells-Next-The-Sea, a seaside village on a North Norfolk inlet that leads to the North Sea. We were there in less than 12 minutes past lovely calming countryside and fallow fields. England seems not to have had enough rain–everything looks brown and dry unlike the lush green fields I remember from many summer country holidays. Past the busy street we went to get to the waterfront where we enjoyed watching little boys crabbing–they had loads of crabs squirming in their pails–the bait they used, they informed me, was smoky bacon (yummy!) and bits of live whelk! Past the ice-cream and fish n chip shops we walked before I nipped into one for a magnet to add to our collection! It was a slice of English summer life that I observed while seated on the quay–colorful boats bobbed on the waters, people walked with bulging picnic bags towards their waiting vessels. To simply people-watch was a delight on a day that had been gifted to us from heaven–it was simply gorgeous.

Our return south to Gorleston took us along the coast to Cromer where we passed by village after village whose walls and houses were constructed of the typical Norfolk flint stone–each had a truly distinctive appearance. Flowers spilled out of hanging baskets and containers in village front gardens where the gravel was also composed of flint stone. Fred and Wilma would have felt very much at home in North Norfolk!

I told Amy I would treat her to dinner in Norwich and Lonely Planet recommended St. Benedict’s Restaurant on St. Benedict’s Road. We took a month of Sundays to find the street (as Amy is unfamiliar with Norwich) and the one-way system in England’s larger cities and towns would be the death of any driver! Still, when we finally got there, we settled down to drinks (pear juice for Amy, Bulmer’s cider for me) before we decided to have the 3-course prix fixe menu. In a very modern, very chic space, we feasted on Crab, Avocado and Beetroot Salad (divine…plus I couldn’t leave Norfolk without tasting some of it’s famed seafood), Grilled Swordfish with Potato Gnocchi and Balsamic Onions and an even more divine Gooseberry Fool. I simply had to taste English gooseberries (they are tart and had almost disappeared from English supermarkets as I was told picking them had proven to be too time-consuming and laborious, but they seem to be making a come back). The fool was layered in a small glass jar with stewed whole gooseberries and crumbled ginger nut biscuits–lovely combination of tart and spice made the dessert (sorry, pudding) unforgettable! We were stuffed when we left about 9. 30 pm and returned home to Gorleston close to 11. oo pm. I fell asleep in the car on the way back as jet lag got the better of me.

Tomorrow I hope to explore Norwich…and its many churches, castle and cathedral…and, of course, I hope, its thrift stores!

In Norfolk Now!

Jul20

Monday, July 19, 2010,
London-Norfolk

Though much remains the same, much has changed. My cell phone number, for instance. Though phone was fully charged and voucher was purchased first thing this morning at the corner Sainsbury that I remembered so well, I could not top up. Turns out your SIM card expires if not used for 3 months. Had to purchase new SIM card but could only do that once I arrived in Norfolk…Bummer!

One more thing has changed–the No 8 bus from right outside my building on High Holborn, no longer plies to Victoria. I let a few of them pass right by me each going only as far as Oxford Circus before it occurred to me to ask the driver if the route had changed–it had! Double Bummer!

Then discovered I hadn’t enough money left on my Oystercard. I usually top that up at the Tube station at Heathrow…but since I enjoyed the luxury of a cab ride this time, I hadn’t the chance to do that..Triple Bummer! So off I went to the Chancery Lane Tube ticket window to top up my Oystercard before hauling my backpack and my butt into a Tube that was bursting at the seams with early morning commuters–it was hellish! Made the change at Oxford Street and took the Victoria Line to arrive at the coach station by the very skin of my teeth…though I’d left an hour earlier from Holborn!!! Good job I’d purchased a breakfast sandwich and a drink from Sainsbury while getting the Lebara top up voucher..or else I’d have been sitting and starving on the coach all the way to Norfolk! Phew!

Lovely ride again through Central London and the East End before we finally hit the motorway–it took a good hour to get out of London’s precincts! Atlas was very useful in helping me track my route. Was pleased to pass right by Epping Forest (had heard so much about it).

Made it to Norfolk with five minutes to spare. Amy, my friend from our childhood days in Bombay, was waiting to pick me up very far from the coach station as her car wasn’t allowed in. And with my old cell phone number dead, she couldn’t reach me–such moments of tension for both of us! After waiting for 10 minutes, I became pro-active and asked questions: where would someone wait if she were coming by car to pick me up, etc? We finally connected…Phew!

Drove briefly through Norwich before we headed straight for Great Yarmouth on the East Norfolk coast where she lives in a tiny beach-side hamlet called Gorleston-on-Sea (it’s pronounced Gaul-ston). Chatted nineteen to the dozen in her car before we arrived at her home–lovely view of the sea from her house (she is a real estate agent, so bagged the prize house on the block). One grand tour of house (very tiny but very English in decor) and garden (fresh strawberries ripening on the bushes!) later, we set out to sort out the issue of my phone.

I finally found a new Lebara SIM card on the waterfront at Great Yarmouth which is your typical English beach-side holiday hot spot with the works–horse buggies lined up to give rides, fish n chips, ice-cream, evening teas, amusement arcades (some really gigantic ugly tacky ones), a nice beach promenade though I did not see any donkeys on the beach–wondered if they’d been banned by animal activists…or maybe I simply couldn’t see them from the car as we zipped by.

Could not spend too much time there as we had priorities–like reassuring my parents and Chriselle in Bombay that I’d arrived safely in the UK. What relief when my phone was working again and I could reach out to the world. Sent my new phone number via email (after we got back home to Amy’s) to Llew (who promptly called me!) and Chriselle who was out having dinner with friends in Bombay.

Amy is one of those people who goes to a butcher for her meat, a fishmonger for her fish, a greengrocer for her produce, etc. She is known here by name as Mrs. Darby and everywhere we went she was recognized and hugged. And I thought Southport was a small place! She is also a health freak–we bought whole wheat pita pockets which we stuffed with ham for lunch. Dinner was pork vindaloo (recipe from a Sainsbury cookbook) was like no vindaloo I’d ever eaten. The fresh veggies stir fry Amy made for dinner was good with fresh strawberries for dessert and a huge helping of M&S Toffee and Pecan Meringue Roulade–a rather scrumptious dessert that I discovered late into my London stay and made certain I bought while we were still in Norwich in the morning! I’m really looking forward to eating all my best-remembered foods…

In the evening, we took a walk along Gorleston Beach which is a nice combination of pebbles and sand. I realized that I’d seen the entire Norfolk coast from our aircraft during descent into Heathrow as we’d crossed the North Sea from Holland. I also saw the Mouth of the Thames and the distinct Lowestoft Wind Turbine which was unmistakeable from the air and is only a few miles from where Amy lives. She informs me that it is called Gulliver.

It was a good quiet start to my UK stay. Tomorrow we will drive up to the North Norfolk coast where my Anglican bishop friend is saying the noon mass at the famous shrine of our Lady at Walsingham. I am going there on pilgrimage. After many years, I have some asking to do–and not just the thanking I have done for so long! So many people asked me to pray for them while I was in India (ageing parents, ageing aunts, sick cousins, troubled friends), I hope I will remember them all…

Jet lag hit me at 8 pm when it was well past midnight in India. I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow…

Here I Go Again!

Jul20

Sunday, July 18, 2010, London

Talk about feeling that sense of deja-vu all over again! With a slight twist…in that I arrived into Heathrow’s ‘new’ Terminal Five for the first time. The cabbie sent to pick me up by thoughtful friends was nowhere in sight nor was there a placard with my name on it. Turns out he was running late and left the card in his car. Thankfully, we connected without too much stress.

Nice ride through Central London took me through well-loved old landmarks (UCL Hospital in Euston where I’d had physiotherapy for PF…). Lovely reunion with my former next-door neighbors Tim and Barbara–felt funny to walk right past my flat to ring their door bell instead. So many happy memories…

One year after my departure from London, Holborn was still slumbering (it being a weekend evening!) Huge serving of very spicy and very delicious pasta for dinner at Pizza Express before I went to bed…absolutely delighted to be back in London where I become a different person (nicer, somehow, I think–must have to do with the English penchant for politeness).

Went to bed about 10. 30 pm local time after making sure I charged my cell phone and set Barbara’s alarm clock for my dawn departure by coach to Norfolk. Browsing for reading material in bedside bookcase, I found UK and Ireland Road Atlas (I LOVE maps) so had a sense of where I’ll be spending the next few days. Borrowed atlas so I could chart my coach route through the countryside.

Surprisingly, though it was the wee hours of the morning in Bombay, I was still full of beans and did not fall asleep right away!

So good to be back in England again–somehow it feels as if I never left at all!

Discovering the V&A

Feb4

Wednesday, February 4, 2009
London

I had a very early start this morning, awaking at 5. 30 am, working on my PC for a while, then showering, eating breakfast and getting out of my flat by 7. 45 am to take the buses to the University College Hospital for my physiotherapy session. I reached there in under a half hour which was something of a surprise to me. Traffic seems to be moving a bit faster now on High Holborn–which is such a relief.

To my disappointment, I found that Paul is no longer working with me (he has been rotated to another division) and I now have a new physiotherapist–Claire Curtin–who says that she will be in this division for at least 4 months, so is likely to work with me long-term. I find this very annoying as I think the patient loses continuity with a health practitioner. This is also what is wrong about this NHS system–the patient has no control over who he is treated by. He just has to lump it and whether the physician is good or not, he has to stick with him. Anyway, I am not that bad now that my condition needs specialist attention, so I guess I shall just stay with Claire and hope for the best.

Nothing much came out of our session. She basically told me to continue with the same exercises that Paul had recommended. She drew them out for me because their computer is still not working (what??? Even after three weeks? How do these folks function?) However, it seems that Paul has made the referral on my behalf for the podiatrist, so I should be getting something in the mail asking me to see a podiatrist who will then recommend the orthotics that Paul thought I needed. So the rigmarole continues…Claire did massage my right ankle and told me how to do it myself and suggested that I see her again in two weeks time! She could not recommend the exercises strongly enough and told me not to stop, come what may!

I then took the Number 14 bus from Euston and rode on it all the way to Kensington. Now that I have finished my study of the National Gallery, I have turned my sights on to the Victoria and Albert Museum, known affectionately as the V&A. I had visited this museum only once, a few years ago, and been completely overwhelmed by its size and scale. I had taken a Highlights Tour then, but do not remember anything that was shown to me except for the Raphael Cartoons and a Cast Room. When I arrived at the Museum, a few minutes before 10 am, there were a couple of dozen people there already but the museum was still closed. At 10 am sharp, the heavy wooden doors were thrown open and I was the first person to enter the museum today!!!

After my bag was physically examined, I went to the Cloak Room to hand in my coat and bag, then went to the Information Desk to find out about Highlights Tours for the day. There were two at 10.30 am and 11. 30 am respectively that I thought I would take. Meanwhile, I got myself a Map and a list of 20 Highlights of the Museum and started to see those for the first half hour.

In the basement, I saw an ivory inlaid wooden cabinet by Fiammingo. Then in the Fashion Gallery (which is highly reputed), I saw a beautiful dress designed by Vivienne Westwood under inspiration from French artist Watteau. It was fashioned in emerald silk and was gorgeous. In the South Asian galleries, I saw Shah Jahan’s exquisite wine cup, carved in white jade, featuring a flower on the bottom and the head of ram in its handle–truly beautiful! In the Islamic section, I saw the Ardabil Carpet, a gigantic carpet woven in Iran and containing over 4,000 knots per square inch. The Far Eastern Galleries held a really charming Bodhisatava called Guanyin and in the Japanese Armor section, I saw a suit of armor that was presented to Queen Victoria by one of the big gun shoguns of the time. These were the highlights I saw on my own.

At 10. 30 am, I went to the spot where the Highlights Tour began and met my guide, Jane Hampson. She was disappointed to find that I was the only one on the tour but she took me, first off, to one of the Museum’s biggest attractions–The Raphael Room–where we were joined by another visitor originally from Egypt but now living in Australia. For the next hour, Jane took us on a very lively and interesting tour of the museum that included the following objects:

1. The Raphael Cartoons. (These water colors were the basis for the tapestries that hang in the Sistine Chapel in Rome. They were made in Mortlake on the outskirts of London. These belong to the Royal Family having been purchased by Charles I).
2. The Gothic Altarpiece featuring St. George and the Dragon.
3. A Chinese Red Lacquer Table and Throne.
4. The Eltenburg Reliquary (made of wood, whale ivory, and superb cloisonne work).
5. The Plaster Cast Room (with special emphasis on Trajan’s Column–the original of which stands in Rome).
6. A Porcelain Pagoda and Export China in the Chinese Gallery.
7. The Thomas Grace Cup–a medieval ivory cup that is associated with Thomas a Beckett of Canterbury and was decorated during the Renaissance.
8. The Dacre Animals (saved from a stately English country estate before it burned down).
9. Sculpture of Neptune and Triton by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (one of his early works, showing similar compositional elements with his Bachannalia that I show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York).
10. The Great Bed of Ware (this was made in the 1100s and there is actually a reference to it in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night–which, coincidentally enough, I saw last night!)
11. The Dale Chihuly Chandelier in the main lobby–this has always been one of my favorite pieces in the V&A and I recall taking a picture of it the last time I was there.

I thought the tour was superb and when Jane mentioned that she gives a special tour of the British Galleries at 12. 30 pm, I told her that I would join that as well. Meanwhile, I rushed off to join the 11. 30 am Highlights Tour, this one being given by a guide called Mina Renton. She took the group to the Raphael Cartoons, then moved on to “Tippoo’s Tiger” in the South Asian Galleries.

The title of the work refers to a music box that is concealed in the body of a tiger that is seen devouring a British soldier. As anyone with any knowledge of Indian History knows, “Tippoo” is Tipu Sultan, who was known as the Tiger of Mysore. He defended his territory against the British onslaught throughout the 18th century (as had his father, Hyder Ali, before him). He was finally vanquished and killed in the Battle of Seringapatnam by Lord Cornwallis (yes, the same Cornwallis who was involved with the British surrender at York during the American Revolution!). Mysore then came under British control. I was surprised how huge this object is–for some reason, I kept thinking it was a small table-top model. When I saw that it was almost life size, I was shocked. It is so fragile now and can no longer be wound up to play the sounds that emanate from the dying young British soldiers who is being mauled by the tiger. This design, incidentally, is based on a real-life incident–a Captain Munroe was out hunting in Mysore when he was attacked and killed by a tiger. Tipu was delighted and amused by this occurrence and requested that an organ be made for him in this design. It happens to be the most popular item at the V&A and one that most visitors wish to see. This tour then wound its way to the Bernini Neptune, but since I was keen on joining Jane’s British Galleries tour, I left it and returned to the lobby.

Jane’s British Galleries tour was just fantastic. In the short space of just one hour, she covered such a great deal and explained things very clearly indeed. She went from the 1500s till the late 1700s and confined herself to the ground level only. The British Galleries continued on the 2nd, 3rd and 4th levels, but those I shall see on future visits.

These are the items I covered with Jane in the British Galleries:

1. A Morstyn Salt Cellar.
2. Henry VIII’s Portable Wooden Writing ‘Desk’.
3. The Bradford Table Carpet.
4. A Funeral Pall for the Brewer’s Company.
5. A Medieval Baby wrapped in swaddling and a slipware cradle.
6. A Virginal used by Queen Elizabeth I.
7. The Drake Jewel (containing a miniature of Queen Elizabeth I and presented to Drake in recognition of his services to the country after the defeat of the Spanish Armada).
8. The Hunsdon Jewels (Presented by Queen Elizabeth I to various courtiers for services rendered to the country).
9. The marble bust of Charles I.
10. Fashionable Men’s Wear in the Court of James I and Charles I.
11. A Mortlake Tapestry.
12. A Marquetry Cabinet.
13. A Sumpter Cloth (used to be thrown across goods in a wagon).
14. A Sculpture by Cornelia Parker entitled “Breathless” featuring real crushed musical instruments and suspended from the ceiling.
15. The Melville Bed from the Melville House in Fife, Scotland.
16. The Stoke Edith Tapestry from a country estate in Herefordshire featuring the estate’s formal gardens.
17. The Badminton Chinoisserie Bed from Badminton.
18. A Marble Sculpture of Handel by Jonathan Tyers originally made for the Vauxhall Gardens.
19. A Selection of Chelsea Porcelain.
20. Four Painted Rococo Panels.
21. An 18th century Mantua or Court Dress of a Lady.
22. A Painting entitled ‘The Duet’ by Arthur Devis
23. The Norfolk Music House Room which originally stood in St. James’ Square, London–later razed to the ground after a fire destroyed it.
24. A Selection of miniature portraits by Nicholas Hilliard.

I found it hard to believe how much I covered in just two and half hours. That’s why I love these tours!

When Jane and I got talking at the end of the tour, I happened to mention my Plantar Fascittis (which had caused me to sit wherever I could find a seat or bench on the tours) and Jane informed me that she had the same thing, a few years ago. Apart from the massages and stretching exercises, she recommended what her physiotherapist called Contrast Bathing! What??? She told me this meant that I needed to sit with two big bowls of water side by side. One should be filled with water as hot as I can take it, the other filled with water as cold as I can stand it. You are supposed to place your feet for a few minutes in the hot water, then in the cold, the hot, then the cold. This apparently would expand and contract the muscles. Jane claims that ultimately this did cure her completely and, occasionally, when she still gets a twinge, she does this for a few minutes and she is right as rain, again! This sounds to me like Chinese torture but what the heck, since I have tried everything else, I am willing to give this a shot as well. She told me to do this while watching TV and I would not feel it at all!!!

I came home for lunch, caught up with email correspondence and tried to take a short nap; and then before I knew it, the time was 5. 45 pm and I left my flat for my appointment with Rosemary Massouras and Christie Cherian, her partner. We had decided to meet at the Sherlock Holmes Bar which is located in the Park Plaza Sherlock Holmes Hotel on Baker Street, just a block from the fictional 221B Baker Street where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Victorian detective Sherlock Holmes lived.

It was a lovely evening and over cider and white wine and some nibbles (hummus and pita, feta cheese and sauteed peppers), we chatted about a vast variety of subjects from travel and India, films, our children, my trip to Berlin, etc. Rosemary and I have decided to go together to the special exhibition on Byzantium at the Royal Academy of Art where she happens to be a member and she also wants to do a weekend trip with me somewhere–but is afraid she will not have the stamina to keep up with me, she says!

I took two buses back and got home at 10 am when I had a small bite to eat and after writing this blog, fell asleep.