Sandringham House and Royal Estate

Thursday 22 August 2002. We visit Sandringham, the royal house in the year of the Queen's Golden Jubilee.

After the last few days the sun has decided to make a welcome appearance and as there may be a spot of walking through the grounds we thought it might be the ideal day to do it.

We start with a tour round the house though. The estate of almost 8000 acres and a house were bought in 1862 for the Prince of Wales, Albert Edward, later to be King Edward VII. This was to be a country home for the soon to be married prince and his bride, Princess Alexandra of Denmark. The house was rebuilt almost in entirety from 1870 - 1900 and has both a West Front and East Front, but no back.

Many of the rooms that are open to the Public are regularly used by the Royal Family who have all, since Edward VII thought of Sandringham as one of their favourite places to be. It was the scene of the first ever Royal Christmas radio broadcast by King George V in 1932 and the first televised Christmas broadcast by Queen Elizabeth II in 1957.

The first ever Royal car. The 1900 Daimler Phaeton was bought by King Edward VII. As you might expect there are some beautiful collections in the house and garages.

Works of art that you recognise, having seen them in print or on TV give you a lift, but the sheer number of tiger skins just makes you wonder at an age that thought animal populations could withstand such wholescale slaughter, or that it was acceptable to just go out with the intention of killing such beautiful animals for a moment's perverse pleasure.

But despite the views of today's younger generations, you should not judge today's older generations by the actions of their ancestors. And whilst we can shake our heads at and regret the actions of our ancestors (virtually everyone regardless of race or religion has some reason to do this), no one should be expected to apologise because their great-great-grandad, however many greats, was an arrogant twonk with better than average sword skills or a bigger army to fight for him or a belief that their deity-in-the-sky was better than anyone else's.

The State Coach in the Carriage House. The delicate hangings are protected by plastic sheeting. In this case it's ok - it's not just single use...

Some of the early shooting brakes - the ancestors of today's estate cars or SUVs - are marvellous concoctions of wood and leather. Just the thing when you are out reducing the bird or small mammal population...

We visited the cafeteria for a spot of lunch. I had a Pepsi in the cardboard cup with the Royal Crest and in the plastic carton is the remains of Miss Franny's sandwich with the Royal Crust...

Lunch partaken of, we headed out into the grounds, worriedly squinting at an unusual glowing ball in the sky... Sixty acres of gardens were transformed from the formal planting of Edwardian days into huge glades and sweeping lawns with specimen trees. Parterres - water gardens - were dug up and lakes created with more natural lines and surroundings.

The horse chestnuts - not yet roasting by an open fire - were heavily laden, promising plentiful conkers for the royal children.

The lake gives a wonderful view of the West Front of the house. We admired the lily pads, the clarity of water, the large fish chasing the ducks about in case they dropped something tasty into the water...

The Nest is a summer house, built in 1913 for Queen Alexandra who used to enjoy sitting by the lake,

Several properties sit within the grounds. This Gatehouse was one that we came upon during our walk.

Great Yarmouth 2002 Index

Abbotsbury, a Place of Gardens and Swans

Sunday 27 August 2023. Today our excursion takes us to Abbotsbury where there are two attractions quite close to each other.

Abbotsbury Subtropical Gardens is a 20 acre garden, once a walled garden of the Earls of Lichfield who had a house here. It commenced in 1765, the house burned down in 1913, and the garden has remained whilst the earls returned to their home at Melbury House in Dorset. The gardens occupy a sheltered and wooded valley which leads down towards Chesil Beach and include a high viewpoint of the beach. The environment has its own micro-climate and can sustain outdoors many plants that would normally require to be kept in greenhouses. It is Grade I listed.

The gardens were a hard slog for me, I have to use a walking stick these days and there are lots of uneven slopes with a mix of surfaces and it was hard to find our way around. For a start, the maps we were given were printed upside down compared to all the maps displayed around the trails and there were no Exit signs until you were within a stone's throw of it. There were undoubtedly some lovely gardens, thankfully quite a few benches, but also a lot of fairly steep slopes. I didn't take any photos which was a shame, but I was more interested in remaining upright, so the picture is a watercolour of the lily pond that I did once home. I know I'm a bit rubbish at watercolours but every now and then I feel the urge to have another go!

Finally we managed to work out where we were on the map (because of the lily pond!) but then still managed to turn the wrong way and ended at the exit end of a rope bridge that there was no way I would have tried anyway. In fact later when we were waiting for the last passenger to come back to the coach I had visions of her hanging upside down from it, with her head in the water and her foot tangled in the ropes...

Anyway at least we actually found a signpost that gave more information than just a pointer without text. It said "Exit" and we made our way back to the cafe and courtyard dining area which we soon found was full of wasps... The place was refusing cash and insisted on card payment - like a red rag to a bull as far as I'm concerned - and of course they hadn't signposted that either. You were only told when you got to the till having stood in a long queue with a fully loaded tray. It was obviously not the young girl's fault who was serving, but if His Lordship is reading this, get it bloody sorted!

After lunch we were back onto the coach and taken the short distance to Abottsbury Swannery. The swannery was started when swans were reared in order to feed the monks at the nearby abbey set up by King Cnut in the first half of the 11th century. (This is the same Canute who demonstrated his non-divinity by failing to hold off the incoming tide). Swan roasting is slightly frowned upon these days and in any case King Henry VIII chucked the monks out in 1539.

They are mute swans, but not so much that you'd notice from the noise... Two blokes were ringing their legs (the swans that is, not their own...) and whilst one caught a swan then held it in a reverse cuddle which calmed it down, the other fitted an identifying ring. This activity had been paused for a bit whilst Covid and Avian Bird Flu affected both keeper and kept and the swannery was starting a count of the swans which before Covid had reached over 600 birds.

It is the only place in the world where you can walk through a large colony of nesting mute swans. There are two pathways set out where you can see both adults and small enclosures where chicks and cygnets are reared. Many of the them return here as adults to mate and raise their own families. White feathers are all over the place. If you go, you are warned not to pick them up. In times of Avian Bird Flu, the last thing they need is any risk of you taking it to all corners of the country...

Coach Trip to Sidmouth, August 2023, Index

Taking The Genteel Airs Of St Annes, Lancashire

Sunday 29 May 2016. It's Spring Bank Holiday weekend and we decide to have lunch out at the Beach Cafe, St Annes. It's a beautiful day. We park on a side road off the Promenade near to the Pier and walk along to the cafe which is family owned and run.

The Fylde coast does from time to time see a bit of rough weather - as witness what used to be the end of the pier standing forlornly a distance from the current end of the pier... But today the temperatures are up, the ice cream is selling fast - and melting fast - and some jaunty blue umbrella sunshades have sprung up to convince you that this is Hawaii.

St Annes is just a few miles south of Blackpool and was always a little more genteel. A half-way stop between Blackpool and Lytham. Stone designs in the bridge pathways were laid down in 1909. A little hard to see on this photograph admittedly, but a few minutes searching around this spot and you will find stone depictions of anchors and windmills and geometric designs all made out of pebbles set into the cement.

The bridges take you over the waterways and gardens. For the more adventurous there are some stepping stones over the waterway at one point. They too have been there a hundred years or more and I have some ancient cine film of myself as a baby being carried over them by my Grandad!

These gardens are still unspoilt by the change in national pasttimes and tastes from the 20th to the 21st century. The ducks can enjoy their use of the water, largely undisturbed by the shouts or chasing of children.

At the southern end of the water garden is the waterfall, with the path leading through a little grotto behind the fall. Behind the waterfall and the rockeries, topped by that luxuriant shrubbery is the Promenade.

Back to the Pier and turning inland, we come to the centre of St Annes. This looks away from the seafront along St Annes Road West. The traffic lights control the crossing of the main coast route from Blackpool to Lytham, a little further along the coast.

Whilst it is no different from any high street in that it has been affected by changing shopping habits, St Annes has reacted by enhancing the existing flower beds and garden layouts, creating new social spaces which are enjoyed by residents and visitors alike.

A sad occurrence locally was the loss of the department store J.R. Taylor. The largest independent department store in the area went into administration in December 2014 and closed its doors for the last time on 17 January 2015 when no buyer could be found. The property is currently available to rent.

Garden Street is another shopping street leading from St Annes Road West, the main street, to the entrance to Ashton Gardens. This municipal park has a bowling green, children's playground and the Pavilion Cafe.

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The Chalice Well at Glastonbury

Sunday 24 May 2015. We waited until the rain had died down a little and then braved the weather to walk to the Chalice Well.

On the way up towards the well we had this excellent view of Glastonbury Tor with the tower of St Michael, dedicated to the Archangel Michael.

The Chalice Well gardens are built around the well where legend has it that the Holy Grail was placed when Joseph of Arimathea brought it to England. There is of course no actual proof that there was an actual chalice at all, never mind that it was brought all the way from the Holy Land and placed here. But over the centuries the tradition grew and is linked with the legend that Joseph of Arimathea came here as a merchant. We have already seen the Glastonbury Thorn that is said to have grown miraculously from his staff. The gardens are run by a trust and there is an admission charge.

The actual well sits at the top of a garden that has been landscaped around the spring that feeds the well and cascades down the gardens via a series of cascades, falls and pools. It has to be said that it attracts some strange people (I'm not referring to anyone in the photo). The first time I visited around 30 years ago, someone was sitting in a robe running a pestle around the rim of a brass mortar that was emitting what to them was no doubt a spiritual soothing sound, but to me was totally annoying...

The water here comes from the spring and can be drunk. I ignored the glasses though and cupped my hand under the spring to taste the water. It was quite nice tasting with little of the sour metallic taste of a high mineral content, though the red colour of deposited minerals shows there is some present.

The Holy Grail has been the subject of so many legends and quests down the centuries that it is easily latched onto by the pseudo spiritual. Glastonbury abounds in hippies. I was 13 in 1967 and then hippies were people from my age up to late twenties who liked bright clothes and music and perhaps drugs, though very few people I came across ever went that way.

I grew out of wanting to be a hippy around the age of 17 or 18. By contrast it seems that today's hippies are all aged from 40 to late 60s and far from peace and light, colourful clothes and care for others, it seems now to be more about pseudo spiritualism, being as scruffy and appearing as unwashed as possible... Floaty cheesecloth has been replaced by leather jackets. Glastonbury is full of shops offering "Tibetan Sensory Massage" and anything to do with fairies and elves and that part of the town came across a little (if I can be blunt) as being up its own backside... I imagine that many of the inhabitants don't feel much affinity with this aspect of the town either, though it is well established now.

It's obviously enough of a problem for the entrance of the gardens to display a message forbidding "group rituals"... In 2006 there was a clash in the town between local pagans and an association of young catholics who threw salt in the face of pagans with shouts of "You will burn in Hell, witches!" The problems are not always caused by the pagans...

This did bring a rather ironic smile to my face though. The Healing Pool. You can paddle in it but the sign warns it is slippery and they are not responsible for any (my words) injury caused by the healing pool...

We had climbed down from the well to the final terrace of the garden. There are lots of benches to sit on and for anyone into plants and gardens it would be worth a visit for the well-landscaped presentation alone.

I have to admit I didn't feel one little bit spiritual whilst there, despite others clasping the sides of their faces and rocking about. The Holy Grail or chalice legend seems to have its origins in the Norman period, 1100-1200 years after Christ and some 650-750 years after the time of the earliest Arthurian mentions. There are many many claims for its location and more recently a totally different interpretation of its nature based on the similar sound of the Old French terms "san gréal" (holy grail) and "sang réal" (royal blood).

A lot of thought and effort have gone into the garden, its sculptures, landscaping and planting (which includes at least one cutting from the Glastonbury Thorn). The mysticism, spiritualism and just about all other manner of isms were a bit lost on me...

Links

The Chalice Well Trust: www.chalicewell.org.uk

Somerset Weekend Index