A weekend in Kent

Posted on April 3, 2018 by Kym Hamer

The Easter long weekend is done and it has glowered and grizzled and pretty much rained for the whole four days. This morning, the weather forecast touted a high of 14C for London but having just come back from running a couple of errands up the street, it feels like more of the same damp squib to me.

*sigh*

It’s led me to reminisce about sunnier times – like when I spent a warm summer weekend in Kent last July.

It was a ‘big birthday’ for stepmum-B’s Mum. B had flown into London earlier in the week and had been staying at Chez Gidday for a few days so we headed into London’s Friday afternoon commuter swell and down to Kent together for a weekend of family catch-ups and birthday festivities. The weekend proved to be gloriously warm and mostly sunny so aside from the party on Saturday evening, we were able to spend some time poking around a few of Kent’s picturesque and historic towns.

We began in Canterbury, the city that gave birth to Geoffrey Chaucer and his tales.

L: Statue of Geoffrey Chaucer in Castle Street; R: Lush gardens along the old city walls

Canterbury Cathedral is a must see. It’s chock full of glorious architecture…

Intricate carvings – including on the tomb of Henry IV and his queen, Joan of Navarre (right)

So many spectacular things to admire, it’s easy to lose track of time.

…and comes with somewhat of a chequered past.

L: Looking down the length of the cathedral from the Trinity Chapel; R: This memorial marks the site of the murder of the then Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket, in 1170.

And then there are Canterbury’s many pubs.

There’s a little bit of whatever takes your fancy here. Make sure you check out the old ducking stool around the corner from The Old Weavers House.

The local folk festival was on so we managed to catch the parade on Saturday morning…

Catching the start of the street parade for the folk festival.

…as well as popping into the Canterbury Museum for a spot of local history. To our surprise, we found this little piece of Down Under hanging on the wall.

On the Moira Station, Australia – oil on millboard – by P Lee, 1890.

After a pleasant morning, we were to meet up with some of the family for a pre-do catch up. However, things didn’t quite go according to plan so B’s brother took us to the town of Sandwich. Folkish pursuits having established themselves here too, we were regaled with some spirited morris dancing as soon as we arrived.

Morris dancing on the banks of the River Stour

Luckily there was also plenty of time to enjoy an ice-cream while wandering through the bustling main square and polish off some delicious fish and chips.

Sunday morning dawned and instead of the relaxed ambling we had counted on after the festivities of the night before, more plans had been developing and we had another family get-together to squeeze in before I caught my train. But there was still time for a quick trip to Botany Bay – the Kent version – for a look around.

Yes, there was a beach – with people swimming and everything. It was that warm…

The top picture is what’s known as either the Folly or Neptune’s Tower. (There’s quite a good post about it on Echoes of the Past if you are interested in finding out more.) We also introduced B’s brother and his girlfriend to geocaching here. The bottom picture is the view from the coastal path alongside the Folly.

A seagull and chick enjoying the sea air and sunshine.

Two more birds enjoying the sunshine and sea air of Botany Bay (that’s me on the right).

After a little basking in the sun at the Botany Bay Hotel – over a pretty decent coffee I might add – we headed off to our final shindig via the delightful seaside town of Broadstairs.

Viking Bay, Broadstairs – another beach with people swimming!

It was a flying stop, just long enough to get out of the car for ten minutes and admire the view, before driving on to our last family do of the weekend. More eating, drinking and gas bagging ensued…and then it was time to say my goodbyes. Before long I was sitting by the train window relaxed, sun-kissed and watching the Kent countryside, bathed in the soft light of a summer’s evening, whisk by.

The rain has stopped now and I’m pleased to report that it’s definitely feeling warmer at Chez Gidday – the toasty winter throw has been tossed aside and I have the kitchen window open a fraction to ‘freshen the air’.

But what I’m really hoping is that some proper sunshine is not far away, when it will be just warm enough to sit outside, albeit jumper-clad, to read or to relocate the chores I’ve been doing on the comfy couch. Let’s face it. While waxing nostalgic about summers past from the Gidday sofa has been a pleasant way to spend a rainy afternoon, I am definitely looking forward to tap-tap-tapping away on the back patio instead.

Fingers crossed that this will come sooner rather than later.

Sacred places

Posted on December 31, 2017 by Kym Hamer

Christmas is done for another year and we are coming to the end of that strange hiatus before the new year begins and life gets going in earnest again.

It has been four years since I spent a Christmas at home and flying solo meant that I could plan a completely selfish day, with absolutely no-one to please but myself. The day was filled with favourites: foodie treats (croissants – check, duck-fat roasted potatoes – check, Pat’s mango fruitcake – check), chats with loved ones Down Under and some Singin’ in the Rain (so full of joy and well, Gene Kelly peeps, what’s not to like *sigh*). There was also a luscious stretch of comfy-couch reading and some seasonal happy telly in the form of the Strictly Come Dancing and Great British Bake-off Christmas specials.

This year, the big day also fell smack-bang in the middle of a marvellous six days cocooned at home. I spent many glorious hours snuggled under a cosy throw catching up on movies I’d meant to see and snacking on cheese and home-made fruitcake (not together). And there was plenty of time to indulge in my favourite thing to do – reading. As far as I am concerned, there’s nothing like losing yourself in a good book and for six days, I found myself utterly engrossed in a tale of adventure, mysticism and history – From the Holy Mountain by William Dalrymple.

When From the Holy Mountain was published twenty years ago in 1997, I had just started travelling. Egypt had been a passion of mine since I was 14 years old, so much so that a career as an archaeologist had held quite some allure. Unlike others I knew who’d set off post-Uni to backpack around Europe, I went to work, saved my pennies and splashed it all on an escorted group tour through Egypt.

Over two mind-blowing weeks, our tour group travelled between Luxor and Aswan listening to stories of ancient rituals and dynasties, wandering through temples and bazaars and scrutinising endless statues and heiroglyphics. We then returned to Cairo for a couple of days and early one morning four of us took a camel ride up through the dusty streets and around the great stone peaks of the world’s most famous tombs, the mighty Pyramids of Giza.

The next day our bus made a stop there on the way back from Memphis and when our guide mentioned that we’d have enough time to go inside, I jumped at the chance. To my astonishment, the rest of the group elected to stay by the bus taking photos so I joined the file of tourists entering the shaded entrance and climbed determinedly up the stone ramp to the inner chamber.

After fifteen minutes the corridor narrowed until it was only wide enough for one person to pass through. I waited patiently until it was my turn to ‘duck-walk’ under the couple of metres of low ceiling-ed passage before the chamber. I stood, stretched my legs gratefully and moved away from the entrance to let a waiting group leave. As the last person crouched into the low space behind me, their exit stemmed the incoming flow of visitors for a couple of minutes and I was left alone in the chamber. In the dim light, a broken sarcophagus hunched darkly to my right as I gazed upwards to the chamber roof soaring above me. My skin prickled and I stood awestruck by the stillness, by the silence and by the sheer moment of standing under something built 4,500 years ago.

Had I read Dalrymple’s tale back then, I would probably have wanted to spend much longer and venture much further afield than my two weeks allowed. Twenty years later, the part of the world he writes about in From the Holy Mountain fascinates me. It was home to the grand and glittering Byzantium, an empire that stretched from Greece and through Constantinople (now Istanbul), crossing the Bosphorus into the vastness of eastern Turkey, turning south through Syria, Lebanon, Israel and Palestine and finally swinging west across the Sinai Desert into Egypt.

Following in the footsteps of two 6th century monks, Dalrymple’s memoir took me on a five month pilgrimage from Mt Athos in Greece to the Great Kharga Oasis in Upper Egypt. His historic references and stories – taken from accounts of John Mochos and Sophronius’ journey – added a fascinating richness but more than that, Dalrymple’s vivid prose brought to life the distinctive landscapes and peoples he encountered along the way. Scattering these amongst his own discussions, interviews and reflections created this wonderful sense of being alongside him as he travelled. This was his pilgrimage, a chance to slake his obsession with the monks’ journey he had read about years before – and it reminded me of mine taken in the shadow of a 13 year love affair with Egypt all those years ago (albeit mine being much shorter than his).

I stayed buried in Dalrymple’s story of civil wars, displaced peoples and sacred places for almost a week, the memories of my first adventure flooding back and the itch to travel welling inside me. I felt like I was on a wonderful journey and that my life was richer for having read this book. As I closed the final page and added this extraordinary travel memoir to my literary favourites, I made myself a couple of resolutions – to learn more about these ancient worlds and to get Dalrymple’s In Xanadu onto my to-read list.

So here’s to a 2018 full of sacred places to discover and new worlds to explore – have yourselves a happy new year peeps!

The best bits of Paris

Posted on December 18, 2017 by Kym Hamer

In November, I met up with my sister in Paris.

An opportunity had come up for her to attend a conference there and after some last-minute hunting for flight (her) and Eurostar (me) deals, considerable fossicking around on accommodation websites and much emailing, we managed to cobble together a pretty fabulous rendezvous for ourselves.

It was not my first trip to the City of Light – that was way back in 2000, and I’d been three times since (as a tourist, that is) – but this was the first time I’d visited so late in the year.

Temperamental to the core, Europe’s grand old dame put a pretty formidable foot forward, for the most part shrouding herself in icy-grey light and a bone-chilling wind. Occasionally she would toss her drab cloak aside, yielding a few hours of brisk blue sky before her grey mood returned. But Autumn had smeared its dazzling colours over her tree-lined boulevards, smattering her towers and turrets with its trademark reds, oranges and golds. We were enchanted.

L to R: Jardins du Luxembourg; Les Jardins du Pont Neuf (taken from the Padlock Bridge); behind Notre Dame Cathedral

I mentioned before that this was not my first trip to Paris but for Lil Chicky it was. As with all first times, there are must-sees-and-dos so a long[ish] list made its way across the world and based on what I knew – and a rather tight planning window – I made us a bit of a plan.

Disclaimer: I do not profess to know Paris well, not like some other people I know. But those ‘others’ have given me some cracking recommendations for my previous visits – my last trip was in 2013 and involved pootling around some lesser known places in between hours spent reading in sun-drenched parks or lingering at outdoor cafes watching the world go by.

So here was my dilemma: How should I balance the new versus the I’ve-seen-it-before, the I-need-to-see-everything against quiet moments of contemplation and reflection that for me make Paris…Paris?

It turned out to be easier than I thought. It had been so long since I’d done the first time things that it was a real treat to go back and do them again. And in most cases, we managed to add a little something extra. So hang on to your woolly hats peeps, here’s your armchair tour of my best bits of Paris.

The Hop-On-Hop-Off (affectionately known as HOHO) bus drove us around the city sights for a couple of hours on Sunday morning and we got some great photos particularly of the ferris wheel on the Place de la Concorde and the Eiffel Tower.

The following afternoon we joined a small skip-the-line group (skip-the-line is so worth paying for – I will never live in Britain long enough to love a queue), so were on la Tour Eiffel just as night fell. The city lit up before us and with the tower glowing and sparkling above us…

Far right: Standing on the second level as the light show happens.

…we got the lift right up to the summit (a first for me, very windy and VERY high – over 1000 feet!). We treated ourselves to a [plastic] glass of [expensive] champagne to toast our efforts – it would have been rude not to.

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One morning we spent an hour visiting the stunning Sacre Couer Basilica in Montmarte…

…then strolled through Place du Tertre, its cobbles dappled with easels and Autumn colour. We walked back down the hill of Montmarte via Rue Lepic, stopping to admire the local art and architecture along the way…

…before pausing opposite the Blanche Metro at the bottom for a cheeky photo of the Moulin Rouge. Many years ago I went to a show in this area but have never stopped here during the day – the Pigalle district doesn’t look anywhere near as risque in the daylight.

On a another afternoon we wandered up the Champs Elysees to the Arc du Triomphe…

…then climbed the 284 steps to the top for the most spectacular views of both Paris and the star-shaped Place Charles de Gaulle below us. We booked our skip-the-line tickets just as we arrived so were able to show them on our phone and walk straight in and up. Definitely my top pick for Paris views.

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On our last morning we spent a few hours at the Louvre Museum wandering through the extraordinary palace building and admiring a few of its most famous exhibits…

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…as well as some not so famous ones (yet!).

I laugh out loud every time I see this photo!

We visited the breathtaking Notre Dame Cathedral…

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…and the 13th century royal chapel on the Ile-de-la-Cite, Sainte-Chapelle.

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Map in hand we stalked the famous, and infamous, at the Pere Lachaise Cemetary…

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…and throughout our stay in Paris, found a few ways to honour those that we’ve loved, and lost.

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A month has passed since I let myself into the snug hotel room at Villa Pantheon and hugged my sister hello. We went on to create so many wonderful memories. For five days, we ambled through the boulevards, avenues, gardens and alleyways of Paris together. We walked until we didn’t think we could walk anymore, falling into our beds each night with aching backs, feet and legs only to get up and walk all over the city again the following day. We drank wine, got lost and explored (not always in that order). We laughed – sometimes until we cried (there may have been a ridiculous hat involved) – and ate far too much cake than is considered good for a person.

L to R: Our trip to the fabulous Angelina on Rue de Rivoli (with special Aussie friend); our discovery of an Angelina outpost at the Louvre and its location-themed special; this absolutely divine tarte tatin at Brasserie de la Tour Eiffel was scrumptious – the cake of trip for me!

But above all, we surrendered to the joy of simply being together…

…and that peeps was definitely the best bit of Paris.

The art of stopping

Posted on October 13, 2017 by Kym Hamer

It’s been a while since I posted and here’s why.

I’ve been on holiday.

Again? the regular readers among you might say.

Yes I know. So far this year I’ve been to York, Edinburgh and Oxford, spending a few days in each and discovering lots of lovely things to see and do.

But this was a different sort of holiday. It was a holiday with the sole purpose of stopping.

It’s been fifteen years since I learnt how to stop. Until then, I thought holidays were for doing – visiting new places, seeing new things, eating new food and learning new stuff. They weren’t for stopping. I couldn’t understand why people didn’t fill their time off with loads of stuff to do. But in 2003, after a fraught and exhausting year – and bolstered by a redundancy payout – I fled to a resort on Koh Samui for ten days.

For the first few days, I did little more than park myself on a sun-bed and alternate between reading, dozing and gazing absent-mindedly out to sea. My mind started to empty and my body stilled. By day three, something unusual had started to emerge – boredom.

I am an inquisitive person. I love ideas and learning and I’m always off to meet new people, listen to new ideas and think about all of the ‘what-ifs’ in life. As a result I’m rarely bored. But for the first time in my life I could not summon the energy to deal with anything new. Just the thought of exploring beyond the hotel felt completely overwhelming. So I stayed where I was, wrapped in the island’s pre-monsoonal September lethargy, mentally antsy but too tired to do anything about it.

By day five, stripped of all but the most essential social contact and stimulation, I slipped quietly into this feeling of incredible peace. My mind stopped chattering quite so loudly, the tension melted from my limbs and shoulders and I started to notice things. The warm breeze brushing my skin as I lay on the lounger. The sand crunching between my toes as I walked towards the sea foam rippling along the shore. The water sluicing through my hair as I plunged under and then broke back through the surface, tasting the salt on my lips.

Everything felt still and serene. Boredom had given way. Suddenly I understood – this was stopping, this was why those people did what they did – and for the remaining five days, I slept like a child – long, deep and restorative – for the first time in my adult life.

And so this holiday – some fifteen years later and one of many since – was about stopping, finding some stillness and surrendering to my favourite things – the feeling of sun on my skin, lots and lots of reading and some epic sleeping. No going out. No ‘discovering’ the city. Actively avoiding any engagement with those people who assume that being on your own means you’re up for a chat. Nothing remotely effortful or stimulating. Just me and my trusty Kindle.

I spent eight days and eight night in Muscat, or more specifically at the Grand Millennium Hotel in Muscat.

After a seven hour flight from London, during which I managed to watch the entire season of Big Little Lies (indulgence number one – done!), I checked into the hotel, unpacked my cabin bag – after all bikinis, sarongs, a pair of flip flops and a few things to wear to breakfast and dinner do not take up much room – and headed to the rooftop pool.

I spent every day there…

I read. A lot. I caught up on two issues of New Scientist magazine, lingered among the pages of the latest issue of 1843 and devoured seven books.

Each day I snoozed, ate lunch by the pool and went for a few gentle swims with the call to prayer wailing soulfully across the city in the background at midday and then again around mid-afternoon.

Late afternoon, feeling sun-kissed and sublimely relaxed, I returned to my room to shower, check emails, post (smugly, I must admit) on social media and linger for a while over the view.

Dinner was either at the Taybat buffet (there was lots of variety so it was easy – and effortless! – to eat six of the eight dinners here) or at its a la carte seafood restaurant.

Essentially it was about lots of delicious food with some happy Kindle-time between courses…and no alcohol. (The hotel is ‘dry’.)

When I got back to my room, I’d jump into the big comfy bed…

…and watch a couple of episodes of my ‘downloaded from Netflix’ box set, Thirteen Reasons Why. (I recently read the book – both it and the TV series were great!)

When that was all over – sooner than anticipated due to some profligate binge-watching – I then moved on to discover just how addictive US series Elementary – starring Jonny Lee Miller and Lucy Lui – could be.

I did this for eight days and eight nights.

And then early on Sunday morning, I headed back to the airport for my flight home.

It’s taken me a few days to feel hungry and sleepy at the right times again (Muscat is three hours ahead of London so I’ve been waking up at 5am) but I can safely say that the stopping has worked. I feel super alert, completely rejuvenated and full of energy – ready to tackle whatever’s coming next.

Here’s also hoping I’ve soaked up enough vitamin D to ward off any feelings of SAD-ness over the winter months…

Oxford: City of discovery

Posted on August 26, 2017 by Kym Hamer

I woke on the last day of my Oxford staycation with only one non-negotiable left on my list – the Ashmolean Museum. But overnight Wednesday’s rain had given way to disarmingly blue skies and I decided to spend an hour or so meandering. So I headed in a new direction, turning into the cobbled laneways and discovering some wonderful pockets of Oxford life.

L: Carfax Tower at the bottom of High Street; R: Longwell Street

L to R: Oxford Castle; Oriel College; the tower of Magdalen College pierces the sky.

Ways to get about in Oxford – bikes near Merton College and punts on the River Cherwell.

I’d walked as far as the Botanic Gardens then turned around to cross back over the bridge and head down the High Street. This took me past Magdalen (pronounced Mawd-len) College – the college that most people had recommended that I should visit – and seeing that it was open, I decided to pop in. I spent a wonderful hour surrounded by the magnificence and serenity of the cloisters, the Great Hall, the chapel and the grounds.

Main courtyard, Magdalen College – you can see the outside of the chapel on the right.

Coats of arms adorn the corridors and ceilings of the Magdalen College cloisters.

L to R: Magadalen Chapel; the Chapel’s monochrome stained glass windows; the Great Hall.

The cloisters: The photo on the right was taken standing in the right hand corner of the cloister running across the left hand photo. Magdalen Tower (right) is a well-known Oxford landmark and plays an important role in the city’s May Morning celebrations each year on May 1st.

Left: Heading into the cloisters. Right: This plane tree was planted at Magdalen College in 1801 – its seed was from a 15th century plane tree in the nearby Botanic Gardens.

Feeling rather pleased with the success of this visit, I decided it was time to amble through the back streets in the general direction of the Ashmolean Museum…

Peaceful scenes in Holywell Street

En route to the Ashmolean via the Wardens’ House (on the corner of Parks Road and Museum Street) and Lamb and Flag Passage.

…arriving just after 11am. After fortifying myself with a much-needed coffee and a delicious slice of pecan pie in the cafe (walking makes me peckish), I finally succumbed to the charms of this amazing museum.

The Ashmolean was founded in the late 17th century by Elias Ashmole and is the University of Oxford’s museum of art and archaeology. I had an interest in archaeology in my early teens (I even considered it as a career for a short while) and it was this that inspired me to spend a heap of money travelling through Egypt for two weeks in 1997. But this interest also kindled a lifelong passion for history and I spent a very happy couple of hours wandering though the Ashmolean’s collections.

Left: The main entrance to the museum on Beaumont Street; Right: An unusual guard dog greets the museum’s visitors.

L to R: Portrait of Elias Ashmole, the museum’s founder; the Sculpture gallery; Delft tiles

Left: Chancellor’s Seal Purse from 1850 – perhaps you could pop some of the Didcot Hoard (Right) – which was discovered in 1995 and included 126 gold coins from AD54-160 – into it.

Left: Cast of Homo Georgicus skull found in Dmanisi, Georgia in 1999 – the skull was from 1.8million years ago and provided early evidence of the genus homo outside of Africa. Right: Shrine of Taharqa from the temple at Kawa in Egypt – “the only complete free-standing pharaonic building in Britain”. (Source: http://www.ashmolean.org)

Left: Schist Relief Panel depicting Buddha’s Descent from the Heaven of the Thirty-three Gods, Gandhara AD200-300. Right: Hand-painted harpsichord (I think?) I forgot to take a photo of the description plaque next to it.

There was so much to admire (I read somewhere that there’s around 8,000 years of history represented) with display case after display case packed full of fossils, curios and trinkets. I was overwhelmed with insatiable curiosity, lingering in each the galleries to read all about the thing(s) I was looking at.

But this feckless information-gathering has a price.

When I spend time at museums and exhibitions, I usually spend about two hours before feeling like I’ve had enough. There’s no doubt in my mind that it is because I like to read about the things I’m seeing and put the pieces of their bigger story together. But it does mean that my brain get saturated and there comes a point when I can’t absorb any more. When this point comes – when I stop being ‘wow-ed’ quite so much – that’s the signal to stop. And after a little over two hours of educated loitering I’d had my fill – the Ashmolean had left me thoroughly and happily drenched.

With that it was almost time to go home so I grabbed a good-for-me lunch at the Organic Deli Cafe a block or so away before trundling to the station for the journey back to London.

And so this brings us to the end of my armchair tour of Oxford. It’s a city built – and rebuilt – on the dreams of great scholars and thinkers and filled with both stunning architecture and bags of history. It’s also a wonderfully walk-able city and I’d encourage anyone visiting to pause between ‘the sights’ and take some time to amble through Oxford’s cobbled streets and winding lanes.

It was one of the things I enjoyed most – crossing and recrossing this iconic university campus – so I hope that in sharing the time I spent in Oxford, I’ve inspired you to get your walking shoes on and discover it for yourself.

There are three posts in my armchair tour of Oxford – for your vicarious reading pleasure here are the other two:

Oxford: Dons and dreaming spires

Oxford: Words and music

Posted on August 22, 2017 by Kym Hamer

Last time I posted, I wrote about my lovely afternoon ambling around the historic city of Oxford. That was just the beginning of my mini break in this delightful city and I spent a further two days indulging my passions for literature, history and beautiful architecture.

After the gentle sunshine of Tuesday afternoon, Wednesday emerged as a bit of a damp squib, the day alternating between light drizzle and heavy showers. As it turned out, it didn’t matter as it was a day of mostly indoor pursuits beginning with a tour of the Bodleian Library.

The Bodleian Library is comprised of a number of well-known buildings including the Divinity School, the Radcliffe Camera, the Clarendon Building and the new Weston Library. The library began its life in 1488 when Humfrey, 1st Duke of Gloucester (and younger brother to King Henry V) donated over 280 manuscripts to the University. The existing library in the University Church of St Mary the Virgin (in Radcliffe Square) lacked the space to accommodate Duke Humfrey’s gift so a new library was built above the Divinity School.

The Divinity School is on the left with Duke Humfrey’s Library on the first floor. The front entrance to the Sheldonian Theatre is on the right.

The library was stripped of its contents in 1550 as England moved away from the Catholic Church under Edward VI (The Reformation) and languished for 48 years before Oxford Fellow and Elizabethan diplomat Sir Thomas Bodley (for whom the library is named) offered to fund its refurnishing. In 1602, the library was reopened and continued to prosper as Bodley persuaded wealthy benefactors and subscribers to contribute to its upkeep and extension. Bodley’s negotiation with the Stationers’ Company of London in 1610 also meant that the library was to receive – in perpetuity – one copy of every book published.

Ongoing expansion has been a theme since Bodley’s death in 1613 and the library has grown to include Nicholas Hawksmoor‘s Clarendon Building (1712-1713), the Radcliffe Camera (1860) and the new Weston Library (2014) as well as a further 153 miles of bookshelves in an off-site purpose-built warehouse facility in Swindon (2010).

Our tour guide Matthew led us through a brilliant ninety minutes of historical facts and anecdotes. Unfortunately photos were not allowed in Duke Humfrey’s Library – the oldest part of the library with books that are hundreds of years old – or in the Radcliffe Camera to respect the privacy of students who use these reading rooms (yes they are still in use). While these were two of the highlights, it was a tour of many high points so I took as many photos as I could where I was allowed. It was an absolutely amazing visit and I’d highly recommend it.

L: Bodleian Library entrance via the Clarendon Building; R: The Radcliffe Camera

L to R: Clarendon Building from Broad Street; delicate ironwork over the entrance; one of the old doors in the Old Schools Quadrangle

L to R: Inside the Divinity School with its marvellous ceiling; this chair is made entirely from timber taken from The Golden Hind, the ship Sir Francis Drake used to circumnavigate the world from 1577-1580.; the Convocation House was the original meeting place for the University’s Supreme legislative body and also housed Charles I’s Parliament during the Civil War from 1642-1646.

Images of the Christopher Wren door which leads from the Divinity School directly across to the Sheldonian Theatre which was his first architectural commission.

I left the library and wandered across Broad Street to Blackwell’s Bookstore. I’d never heard of Blackwell’s before coming to Oxford but I’d noticed a walking tour sign about The Inklings which took me to some parts of Oxford I was unlikely to have found myself.

L to R: The Rabbit Room at The Eagle and Child was where C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien met regularly; C.S. Lewis was a rector at the University Church of St Mary the Virgin – the inspiration for his Mr Tumnus and the lamp in the woods exists in the laneway adjacent to the church (ref: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in The Chronicles of Narnia)

I’d also heard whispers about Blackwell’s Norrington Room in the basement of store. It’s billed as the largest room built for the purpose of selling books. How many books does it hold, you ask? Well apparently it’s around 250,000 give or take a few…

The Norrington Room: It has an official photo point…

I wandered around for twenty minutes and was so overwhelmed that I left without buying a single book.

I headed off to the Turl Street Kitchen nearby and to the sounds of the rain pattering on the street outside, I tucked into a delicious lunch of home-made soup and bread. The wet weather showed no signs of letting up so I decided to return to the Bodleian’s Weston Library and thoroughly enjoyed wandering through the Jane Austen exhibition for an hour or so before heading back to the B&B.

Later I headed out for a little night music at Merton College with Richard Goode…

Waiting for the concert to begin – a recital by renowned pianist Richard Goode in the chapel at Merton College.

The program was fantastic – comprised of Mozart, Debussy, Beethoven to name a few – and I had a great view of both the pianist and the chapel. (The photo on the right above was taken while I was sitting in my seat.) After almost two hours of spectacular music, the audience finally released Goode from its applause and we filed out.

What an awesome day of words and music I had.

And there was still one more day to go. If you’re still interested, feel free to tag along next time…

Oxford: Dons and dreaming spires

Posted on August 20, 2017 by Kym Hamer

I visited Oxford for the first time seventeen years ago.

In 2000, Mum and I spent a little over five weeks travelling together through Europe. We started with a week in London and, having come so far with so little time, we were eager to squeeze in as much as possible. So we decided to take a day trip that covered Oxford, Stratford-upon-Avon and the Cotswolds – I know, it’s a lot to fit into one day.

Back then, our sojourn in Oxford meant that we scurried industriously along behind an energetic lady of advancing years (who set quite a pace and put us all to shame) for an hour or so before the torrential rain set in. This time, I booked a couple of nights in a B&B and packed my hiking boots and rain jacket…

Oxford is a city of some 150,000+ people in central southern England and is the county town of Oxfordshire. It has played host to many significant events in English history and is also home to the University of Oxford which, as well as being the top-ranked university (according to the Times Higher Education rankings), is also the oldest English-speaking university in the world. It’s comprised of 38 colleges and six halls spread across Oxford which pretty much makes the city a wonderfully walkable university campus. And in my two and a half days, I crossed and recrossed that campus many times.

Oxford is also just over an hour from London by train so mid-morning on a sunny Tuesday, I departed from Marylebone Station to arrive just in time for lunch. After something to eat and a little aimless meandering, it was time to get stuck in so I made my way to Broad Street to join a free walking tour*.

Our guide Tom brought many charming and entertaining stories along on our two hour trot-and-stop through the city’s historic streets and colleges. From the cobbled cross that marks the site of the Oxford Martyrs‘ burning during The Reformation…

L: The site in Broad Street where the Oxford Martyrs were burned at the stake for heresy in 1555. R: The green bicycle marked the meeting point for our tour.

…we set off to ‘attend’ Trinity College, ‘sat our exams’ at the Divinity School (part of the Bodleian library complex)…

From L to R: Entrance to Trinity College; Divinity School (scenes from the Harry Potter movies were filmed inside); Entrance to the Bodleian Library on Broad Street.

…and finally ‘received our degrees’ at Christopher Wren‘s first ever commission, the Sheldonian Theatre.

The Sheldonian Theatre is on the left of this courtyard which is accessed by walking through the Bodleian Library entrance in the previous photo.

It was then onto Radcliffe Square and some stories about the Radcliffe Camera, All Souls College and the University Church of St Mary the Virgin…

All Souls College – a prestigious research-only college (no under-graduates here!) – and the Radcliffe Camera (another part of the Bodleian Library complex).

Interior views of the University Church of St Mary the Virgin, the original site of all of the university’s teaching and administration.

…before entering the grounds of Christ Church College for a few final stories.

The War Memorial gardens

The Meadow Building

I parted with Tom and the group on the banks of the River Cherwell delighted with my re-introduction to Oxford. And inspired by the mild weather, I decided to take a solitary walk around Christ Church Meadow. It was gloriously peaceful and exactly the tonic I needed.

The River Cherwell where Charles Dodgson aka Lewis Carroll first regaled the Liddell sisters with tales of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

View of Merton College from the River Cherwell

View of Christ Church from across the meadow.

‘Tis the season…for harvesting the hay.

It’s just as well because over the next two days, I packed a lot in.

I spent time at three different colleges during my stay – Christ Church (well, in the meadow anyway), Merton and Magdalen.

I indulged my lust for literature with a tour through the Bodleian Library, a visit to Blackwells’ Bookstore and its Norrington Room and a delicious meal at the Old Bookbinder’s Alehouse tucked away in Canal Street, Jericho.

I satisfied my urge to rummage around in history with a couple of hours at the Ashmolean Museum.

And, as I am wont to do, I did a whole lot of wandering about.

It was marvellous!

So if my first afternoon in the City of Dreaming Spires has whet your appetite, stay tuned. There’ll be more about what else I did in Oxford next time…

* A note on free walking tours: When I arrive somewhere that I am unfamiliar with, I find one of the best ways to get my bearings is to join a walking tour. A lot of cities offer free walking tours – you just turn up at an advertised time and place to meet your guide. The guide usually asks for a contribution at the end of the tour – the amount is your choice and you are free to pay something or not. It’s up to you. I’ve done these free walks in several cities and having found them really excellent, always find something to give…Tom got a fiver.

Edinburgh: Inside and out

Posted on July 2, 2017 by Kym Hamer

The story so far: Inspired by the success of my trip to York in March, at the beginning of June I was off to Edinburgh for another mid-week staycation. I had heard many good things so I was looking forward to discovering what all the fuss was about. So on a busy Monday morning, I got myself to London’s King’s Cross station and settled in for the four and a half hour train journey to Edinburgh’s Waverley Station.

This post is the last of three and captures three of my favourite Edinburgh moments.

I checked into my guesthouse and decided to walk back into town (about 35 minutes) to stretch my legs after the long train journey. The sun shone warmly overhead as I headed out and I was thoroughly enjoying the chance to get my bearings for the next three days. However it wasn’t long before a fierce deluge appeared out of nowhere. I tried to ‘walk it out’ for about ten minutes but it was a two steps forward three steps back situation – my natural pragmatism took hold and I took shelter in a bus stop until the rain lessened about 20 minutes later.

I found my way up to Calton Hill – a stream of rainwater gushing down the steps leading off the Princes Street entrance – and as I reached the top, the rain finally stopped and I was rewarded with some fabulous views.

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It was fantastic to walk around and I gulped deep breaths of rain-fresh air as I soaked up (pardon the pun) the spectacular scenery. I stood quietly for a few moments as I reached the top and as I looked out across Edinburgh to its Castle in the distance, I decided that this was the perfect way to begin my stay.

The next morning I woke to rain – lots of it – and with the weather forecast suggesting that it wouldn’t let up anytime soon, I caught the bus into town and headed for the Royal Mile. Having walked the Canongate section the day prior, I headed up in the direction of the castle determined not to let the dismal weather stymie my meandering plans. But the tower of St Giles’ Cathedral beckoned and it seemed the perfect opportunity to have a peek and dry off a little.

As I walked in, I shook the beads of rain from my jacket and sighed with relief at the respite from the deluge outside. Then I looked up and gasped…

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The space was calm and filled with permutations of light and shade, bold arches and exquisite stained glass. I paid £2 for a photo permit and strolled for over an hour, taking it all in before taking a pew and a few moments for some quiet reflection. St Giles’ Cathedral was both a surprise and a joy to discover – a beautiful space for the eyes and a beautiful place for the soul.

My final highlight took me underneath the city to Mary King’s Close. The hour-long tour travelled down below the Royal Exchange and through a warren of old lanes and rooms that were originally narrow streets (known as closes) lined with storied tenement houses. Simon the Bailiff’s story-telling painted some pretty vivid pictures of life in the 17th century and his tales – which included a ghost or two – made each stop along the tour dramatic and engaging.

The tour ended on a 17th century street – the real Mary King’s Close of the attraction name. It’s a steep, cobbled alley with old buildings stretching up overhead and no natural light. Photographs were not permitted on the tour for security reasons – Scotland’s Royal Exchange complex is located directly above – but in all honesty, I suspect I wouldn’t have been able to do it justice.

The Real Mary King’s Close experience allows you to stand in the old and, in most cases, dimly-lit rooms and closes while your guide weaves stories of 17th century life around you. Here’s a tip: If you are keen to do this, book a few days in advance – I had to book on Tuesday morning in order to snaffle this slot on the Thursday morning tour (before I left that same afternoon). I was so pleased not to have missed out on this fascinating hour beneath the cobblestones.

And with that, this Gidday from the UK armchair tour comes to a close.

Edinburgh is a wonderful city – friendly and welcoming, and filled with such a diverse range of things to do (as diverse as the weather) that it was easy to fill my three days there. People – whether servers, tour guides or attraction staff – chatted amiably, nothing was ever too much trouble and right down to the taxi-driver who took me to the guesthouse on arrival, they were all filled with hints and tips about getting the most out of my stay. And I was never rushed – I lingered over meals / coffee and cake regularly, working out what to do next or just reading on my kindle, and I never felt pressured to leave the moment I’d finished eating.

So if you are looking for an eclectic and easy-going city break, I’d thoroughly recommend Edinburgh. Just be sure to pack your wet weather gear and keep a sense of adventure and humour handy – come rain or shine!

If you missed the first two and are interesting in reading about my entire visit, here are the other posts in my armchair tour of Edinburgh:

Edinburgh: A royal trifecta (the first one)

Edinburgh: Literary liaisons (the second one)

Edinburgh: Literary liaisons

Posted on July 2, 2017 by Kym Hamer

The story so far: Inspired by the success of my trip to York in March, at the beginning of June I was off for another mid-week staycation, this time to Edinburgh. I had heard many good things about visiting the city and was looking forward to a few days exploring. After boarding at London’s King’s Cross station on a busy Monday morning, my seamless and comfortable train journey to Edinburgh’s Waverley Station took just under four and a half hours.

This post is the second of three and is designed to be an armchair tour of my brush with Edinburgh’s literary fraternity. Those of you that know me even a little will know that I love to read and there are a host of literary links in Edinburgh from Sir Walter Scott, J.M. Barrie (Peter Pan), Arthur Conan-Doyle (Sherlock Holmes) and Robert Burns (he of Burns night) – right through to modern masters like Ian Rankin (Inspector Rebus), Alexander McCall Smith (the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency) and J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter).

Sir Walter Scott is a big deal here – he wrote Rob Roy and Ivanhoe, neither of which I have read, but there were quotes everywhere in the train station and when I emerged onto Princes Street, there was a stonking great monument to the bloke just down the road.

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You’ll also find Scott at The Writers’ Museum – along with two other Scottish wordsmiths – Robert Burns and Robert Louis Stevenson – and on my last day I spent about an hour here admiring the personal effects, checking out the photos and reading about the lives of these famous men.

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After three days in Edinburgh, I hadn’t found very much that paid tribute to another well-known literary Scot – Arthur Conan-Doyle who invented one of the world’s most famous detectives, Sherlock Holmes. Luckily Allan Foster’s Book Lovers’ Walking Tour plugged that gap and at one o’clock we met outside the museum and ventured off into yet another downpour.

Heading to the south side of the city, we entered Conan-Doyle territory with a couple of stops at the College of Surgeons – where as a student, he found the inspiration for Sherlock Holmes in Joseph Bell – and his local drinking hole, Rutherford’s Bar. The bar was also a favourite of Robert Louis Stevenson and the restaurant that occupies the building now is called The Hispaniola in a nod to Stevenson’s most famous novel, Treasure Island.

Photograph of Conan-Doyle at The Hispaniola Restaurant in Drummond Street

It was an interesting, behind-the-scenes sort of 90 minutes and pretty easy walking in spite of the weather. Allan’s knowledge covered so much more than I would have discovered on my own so I’d recommend this walk if you are even remotely bookish.

There are also quite a few eateries with literary links in Edinburgh and I particularly enjoyed The Queens Arms in Frederick Street (New Town) and the Deacon’s House Cafe off the Royal Mile in the Old Town. I also visited The Elephant House whose claim to fame was as the ‘birthplace of Harry Potter’, it being claimed that J.K. Rowling used to frequent the cafe when she was writing the books. It was well-appointed and spacious but I was underwhelmed by the service and food.

So that was the extent of my literary goings on in Scotland’s capital. My next, and final, Edinburgh post will shine a light on three of my favourite staycation moments. But if you’re coming along, you’d best bring your brolly…

If you are interesting in reading about my entire visit, here are the other posts in my armchair tour of Edinburgh:

Edinburgh: Inside and out (the next – and last – one)

Edinburgh: A royal trifecta (the first one)

Edinburgh: A royal trifecta

Posted on July 2, 2017 by Kym Hamer

After the success of my trip to York in March, I indulged in another mid-week staycation at the beginning of June, this time to Edinburgh. I had been twice before – an airport-customer meeting-back to the airport affair on both occasions – and had heard many good things about visiting the city itself. It was definitely time to explore further afield so I got onto a train at King Cross station in London for the four and a half hour journey north to Edinburgh.

This post is the first of three and is designed to be an armchair tour of my foray into Edinburgh’s royal associations. The city has a lot of royal connections – think Mary Queen of Scots, James VI of Scotland/I of England and Robert the Bruce – and aside from meandering up and down the Royal Mile, there are essentially three ways to doff your cap to royal Edinburgh.

Day one of my staycation dawned and after a damp morning wandering along the Royal Mile, I was off to Edinburgh Castle. The previous evening I’d had the brilliant idea of booking a skip-the-line ticket with a castle walking tour to avoid waiting around. Well as I mentioned earlier it was raining – I mean REALLY raining with fat wet drops that teemed down relentlessly – and this had clearly put a dampener on people’s plans. It turned out there was no line to skip.

However the walking tour was worth it, chock full of lively tales about Edinburgh, the castle itself and some of its key protagonists. Our guide also took some time to explain to us why Braveheart (the Mel Gibson movie) and the stereotype of the kilt-wearing, haggis-eating Scot were both wildly inaccurate – obviously a sore point. In any case on such a wet day, having someone knowledgeable to shepherd you around and tell you stories about the various points of interest was far more efficient than trying to stay dry whilst reading about them at each of their locations around the castle. And there were plenty of stories and things to see…

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I particularly liked going through the Prison of War and loved the views from around the castle which, despite the weather, were spectacular. The formal tour part went for just under two hours and I spent another hour looking around so you’d probably need to allow half a day for this visit. And don’t be put off by the rain – this is Scotland and it’s not green for nothing so a) it would be silly (and potentially pointless) to wait for better weather and b) a smart staycationer always packs enough layers to accommodate all weathers.

Speaking of weather, it was significantly improved the following day with bright blue sky and pleasant sunshine (who knew!) so I spent the morning down in Leith on board the Royal Yacht Britannia. The entrance was inside a large shopping centre and it felt a bit odd to be looking for a rather big boat by walking through the shops. But the signage was easy to follow and once there, I had a really enjoyable couple of hours.

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Whether you’re a royalist or not, this was a fantastic opportunity to see how everyone lived on board – including the crew – as well as the huge number of people and jobs involved in the smooth running of the ship. It took me just over 90 minutes to wander around and look at everything before deciding to head up to the restaurant where I enjoyed a bowl of cullen skink and a fresh fruit scone with jam and cream.

The sun continued to beam brightly overhead so I decided to get on a bus, head back to Edinburgh’s Old Town and spend the afternoon at Holyrood Palace. It’s the official residence of the British monarch in Scotland as well as the old home of Mary Queen of Scots so there’s a lot of history here. There were also some awesome abbey ruins and a sprawl of beautiful gardens around the palace with views of Arthur’s Seat. I settled for a while on a sun-drenched bench to enjoy the peace and quiet, admire the views and ‘take the air’.

I couldn’t taken photos inside the Palace (for preservation reasons) but I took loads of snaps in the gardens and abbey ruins…

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This visit wasn’t part of my original to-do list but I’m so glad that I went. I took a great deal of pleasure in the range of things available – beautiful gardens, awesome architecture and shed-loads of history. I also upgraded my ticket to see the exhibition in The Queens Gallery – at first glance, Maria Merian’s Butterflies may not have seemed my thing but the more I wandered, the more fascinating and exquisitely drawn I found it.

So this brings us to the end of royal Edinburgh gidday-style. Next up I’ll be indulging my bookish inclinations with trawl through literary Edinburgh – feel free to tag along if you fancy.

If you are interesting in reading about my entire visit, here are the other posts in my armchair tour of Edinburgh:

Edinburgh: Literary liaisons (the next one)

Edinburgh: Inside and out (the last one)

Gidday from the UK

Thoughts on life from an Aussie sheila in the UK

Category Archives: A Traveller’s Life

A weekend in Kent

Sacred places

The best bits of Paris

The art of stopping

Oxford: City of discovery

Oxford: Words and music

Oxford: Dons and dreaming spires

Edinburgh: Inside and out

Edinburgh: Literary liaisons

Edinburgh: A royal trifecta