The world truly is a small place

Well, I'm back, just a quick update to let you all know that I'm creating lots of travel memories and proving that the world really is a small place. The more one travels the more one learns that this is true, so stand by for some of my recent explorations and proof of this fact.

That's all for now for folks...........................

Florida Fun

Well, I'm on my travels, true to the spirit of this blog!! Made it across to Florida this week and having a lovely time so far meeting up with my friends and having lots of laughs, good conversation, great food and drink, fun in the sun!!

So, watch this space for news of my travels......

Wear your Poppy with Pride!

At least twice a week a small yellow sign on the side of the road signifies that yet another soldier will be coming to John Radcliffe Hospital for post-mortem following his/her death in Afghanistan. 'Military cortege will take place today. Delays possible'.

Yesterday saw the Repatriation of Staff Sergeant Olaf Schmid of the Royal Logistic Corps. I had seen his young, handsome, smiling face on television, doing what he did best, working to keep people like me free and safe from harm and terrorism and dictators. Yesterday, I found myself in the 'delays possible' as his young body was brought home. His wife, Christine, spoke movingly about her 'best friend' the 'man higher than all others'. Dignified.

The cold streets of Oxford leading to the hospital were lined with the strained faces of young and old; people in wheelchairs, people on walking sticks, walkers, all there to pay their last respects. All wearing their poppies with pride.

I felt moved and honoured to be amongst these people. Rest in Peace.

This scene in Oxford will be re-enacted over and over again; next week the same people will line the streets to welcome the 5 casualties struck down yesterday in Afrghanistan, one only 18 and so young faced he looked like a schoolboy.

Last night I sat by my window watching the fireworks, celebrating 5th November, flashing and banging all around me. I heard the gasps of the onlookers. What is the rockets had not been 'friendly fire', I thought to myself???

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;

They sit no more at familiar tables of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

They sleep beyond England's foam.

Fifth of November - Guy Fawkes

And so here it is, 5th November, Guy Fawkes Night. A night for 'lighting up the sky with Standard Fireworks' as we used to sing along to the advert when I was a child. A night for burning the Guy on the bonfire, after we'd tried to sell him for a penny. 'A penny for the Guy, Gov'nor'.

Baked potatoes, hot dogs, homemade soup, toffee apples, what bliss. 'oohs' and 'aahs' as Dad sent another rocket flying out of the milk bottle into the bushes! Phizz, never quite made it.

My favourite firework was the Catherine Wheel which Dad would knock into the side of the garage and Mum, Nan and I would watch as he'd keep trying to get it to whizz round, eventually succeeding to my delight. How he never lost a finger or worse, I'll never know.

Then, when all of the fireworks had finished it was time to put hats, coats and gloves on and brave the icy temperatures to light the sparklers and make patterns in the moonlight.

Nowadays of course, it's mainly the large well organised events around Britain which people attend. We used to take our own children to these events when they were small, although being the traditionalist that I am I still liked to have a fireworks party at home and evoke memories of my own childhood. Happy Days!

Of course, there will be some people reading this who do not know what today is and why we 'celebrate' 5th November which marks the day that Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament and needless to say, he failed. The Gunpowder Plot.

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent
To blow up the King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence he was catch'd (or by God's mercy*)
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring. (Holla*)
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

Fern Hill Wales - Dylan Thomas

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heyday of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.
And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.
All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.
And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it, was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.
And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace,
Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

Pubs and Lantern Festival...............

Well, I'm back after a bit of a lapse of blogs!! Duty called in terms of looking after my Mum who was due to have a cataract operation, unfortunately it was postponed just as we were leaving for the hospital!! To take her mind off it I took her for a tour around the Cotswolds, stopping at Stow, Burford, Upper and Lower Rissington. Such a wonderful part of little ole' England. The following day we went to Henley and back to Fawley (my previous blog!).

I'm just returned from a few days in a rather wet and soggy Wales. Ho hum all good fun though and I do enjoy meeting the characters in the pub. There's the local builder who is full of stories of dead rats in the back of vans, houses falling down after one blow of the hammer, bodies under floorboards. All in jest I hasten to add!! He's a real joker. Then there's the local farmer; he's recently found 'love' and is the 'talk of the village, so I am'. He's heading off to America for a 40 days and 40 nights tour with his ladylove, but I had to give him such advice and Dutch courage as he's getting anxious about leaving his family: that's his four dogs!!

No self respecting pub woul be complete without the village comedian, of course. What a hoot he is, all beard, dogs, beer after beer as his stories get funnier and longer and longer................... 'it's a shame for William isn't it, anyone called William is unlucky' 'Why?' I asked, thinking of my own son whose middle name is William, 'well' he replied, 'everyone's always going around saying FIRE AT WILL' the old one's are the best!!! Boom Boom.

On Saturday evening I attended The annual Gwyl y Golau - Dyfi Light Festival in Machynlleth. The excited faces of the children was wonderful to see and made me long for the days when my own children were small and we used to participate in such lovely community events. The festival was followed by a fabulous fireworks display.

'Ooh' 'Aah'

Fawley, bubbles and a whole lot of talking going on!

Today dawned blue skies and sunshine; lucky that I had arranged for a day out with my girlfriend to do what girls do best, talk, drink, eat and SHOP!!!

Yes, a day playing hooky is good for the soul.

Off we set for a day in the wonderful Oxfordshire countryside heading towards Henley, with various planned stops en-route if the marching pheasants, partridge and deer along the way didn't distract us, along with the occasional little bunny rabbit.

The first destination was the delightful little hamlet of Pishill (pronounced Pish ill). Our eatery here is called The Crown which is a lovely old building heavily laden with black beams, log fires and candlelight. The food was scrummy.

From here we set off down the lane admiring the wonderful autumnal colours on the trees to our next stop the village of Turville. This is where many movies are filmed and plenty of TV dramas and comedies; 'The Vicar of Dibley' (hilarious), 'Midsomer Murders' and 'Lewis', to name but three. A quick stop in the Bull and Butcher for light refreshment and off we go again.........................Fawley here we come.

Fawley, the word is the old English word for fallow deer, which used to roam here, is a pretty village set high and gives lovely views over rolling countryside, here can be found the delightful home and vineyard of Wendy Sergeant. An extremely welcoming and friendly lady who runs a delightful gift shop with her friend Tricia and sells a great Fawley champenoise, harvested from her own grapes. The gift shop is laden with Christmas goodies, local produce such as Quince chutney, Crab Apple Jelly and Honey. Tricia makes splendid cards, individual and very special. There are Christmas gifts such as English soaps, decorations for the tree, fudge etc., etc., Whilst browsing Wendy tops up the complementary glass of bubbly and we sample the lovely nibbles of local cheese, spelt biscuits, chocolates; all available in the shop. Her gardens are beautiful and at this time of year the apples are ripening, and a walk around the vineyard is well worth it. A definite 'must visit' place. We left very happy with our purchases 'are you a pink girl?' Wendy asked me as she wrapped my parcel (this being the wonderful gift my friend bought me). Yes, most definitely yes, and what a lovely thought to ask!

I took a friend from America to visit Wendy in June and we had the most memorable couple of hours with her and Tricia. A very special place indeed.

In the surrounding area are many places to visit, including Stonor Park, Fawley Court, Henley on Thames and Marlow to name but a few. I shall introduce you to these lovely places another time..................................

The car is calling I feel another journey coming on.............

The Jewish Area - Venice

The Cannaregio area of Venice is of great interest and well worth visiting as walking to this area will take you past Marco Polo's and Tintoretto's houses and lead to the Jewish Quarter. I spent two fascinating days here, soaking up the history, culture, the people, the religion, their food and the whole way of life. There are five synagogues and three are open to visitors through a tour organised by the Jewish Museum inside the Ghetto.

The Ghetto is the oldest in Europe having been instituted on the 29th March, 1516 by the Government of the Serenissima Repubblica. Jews were forced to live in this area and could not leave between sunset and dawn. the area was closed by gates which were guarded and although the gates no longer remain, the marks of the hinges are still visible. Jews were allowed to practice a few professions; doctors, money lenders, merchants and ragsellers. The Ghetto existed for two and a half centuries until Napoleon conquered Venice and opened and eliminated the gates in 1797.

The Holocaust Memorial is a salutory reminder of our past and a few moments spent visiting and sitting in silence to remember is a rewarding and uplifting time well spent in this very special area of Venice.

If you want to stay near to this area, a hotel of choice is the Ca' Dogaressa, which is 4 stars. The hotel is conveniently situated for spending a day in this area and for dining at Gam Gam a well respected Kosher restaurant which offers Israeli and Italian fare. Well worth a visit!

I Stood in Venice - Byron

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs,
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O'er the far times, when many a subject land
Looked to the wingéd Lion's marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!

She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was--her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers:
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.

In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone--but Beauty still is here;
States fall, arts fade--but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

A Venetian Affair to Remember

Ah Venice, the romance, the sounds, the smells, the food. Yes, Venice I must confess is my favourite City in all of this small world of ours. I am lucky to have been 5 times and each time I fall more and more in love with the place!


A follower has asked me to give some insights and suggestions of hotels to stay in Venice around the Grand Canal, so I'll suggest a few later on.

Venice, where do I begin? Having arrived by air, probably at Treviso Airport, it is necessary to take some other means of transport to the main area of Venice and the Canal waterways, maybe train or bus. Then depending on where you are staying you'll have to take a water taxi or use your feet to get to your chosen hotel. but try to pack lightly as walking around Venice is not for the fainthearted, with the many bridges and steps and winding passageways.

As soon as you arrive at the water, everything that everyone has ever said about Venice becomes apparent, the brightly clad gondoliers, the well dressed Venetians and ...................the tourists! Yes, it has to be said, Venice attracts a lot of tourists and, apologies to the Americans reading this blog, but there's a lot of Americans out there, it's easy to spot them, large cameras, white trainers (sneakers), baseball cap and a bit of a paunch!!


As much as I love the area around Piazza San Marco, I love to wander further into Venice, along the narrow streets and hidden squares to find the 'real' Venice. Eat at the restaurants where the Venetians eat and taste the real Venetian food. BUT, don't get me started on food, that's my other big passion next to travel.

However, walking back along the fascinating streets, a couple of restaurants of note to mention are Osteria Oliva Nera situated near Ponte dei Greci and Ristorante Corte Sconta with the delightful secluded garden, just perfect for a fish supper.


If you can afford to take out a mortgage to buy a drink a visit to Harry's Bar is a 'must'; try his world famous drink, Bellini which Giuseppo Cipriani, the founder of the Bar invented in the 1930s and named after a famous 15th century Venetian painter.

As promised here's a few hotel ideas:

For sheer luxury and indulgence a stay at Cipriani's on Guidecca Island can't be beaten and they have their own speedboat to taxi you around the islands and to the mainland. If you can't afford to stay, try to take in a drink at sunset on their beautiful patio.

http://www.hotelcipriani.com/


Hotel Giorgione is centrally located near the Piazza De Marco and offers 4 star luxury.

http://www.hotelgiorgione.com/

Near to the aforementioned Ristorante Corte Sconte, in the Calle della Pieta, you'll find the delightful old building where Birsanzio hotel is located. The buildings date back to the 15th century.

http://www.birsanzio.com/

To be nearer the action and to stay right on the waterfront, overlooking the gondolas, tourists, the beautiful lagoon, a stay at Pensione Wildner (2 stars) is an excellent choice. The rooms are situated above their own restaurant and many come with balconies and fine views; perfect for sitting and enjoying a Bellini without the need for a mortgage!!

http://www.hotelwildner.com/

Well, just a small taster of Venice, there's so much to mention, the islands, the squares, the churches, the wonderful Gallerie dell Accademica housing such wonderful works as those painted by Titian and Carravaggio.......................but time waits for no man and there's travelling to be done....................

A Summer's Day at the Parks

Cricket in the Parks on a summer's afternoon
















A picnic Lady Diane style! Cheers.


































Punting under Rainbow Bridge

The University Park - A Poem

A Poem by Elizabeth Jennings

It is a place of whispers, it is a place
Where trees leap to life and converse with one another,
where the Cherwell picks
Its sauntering, winding way by its own free will.
The Parks must contain the shudders,
The kisses and touchings of hands of how many lovers,
bashful and arrogant,
Skilful and clumsy. This
Is a place, where characters are altered,
Where all are open to transformation, where the punters thrust
Their poles in the weedy water while their minds are alive
To love and its sweet beginnings. They say that this place
Holds trees from all over the world, from Russia to Spain,
from China to France,
I say this park is a lovers' grove, is alert to the senses' awakenings,
To imagination's ascents. Here are grasses
Where the young have found an awkward peace, and here
The old run to earth their venerable memories
And smile in the face of the past.

It's Just a Walk in the Park

Just back from a little travel trip to Wales, which was great fun, hence no blogging yesterday.

Back here in Oxford now and I took my usual walk around the University Parks to see what is happening out there in the world! As always, the Parks never fail to lift the spirit and delight in nature. I am lucky in that the Parks are just behind my house and so walking over the bridge, stopping en route to feed the ducks and swans, passing Parson's Pleasure, a popular spot for me to pack a bottle of champagne, smoked salmon and watch the punts glide past, I reach the Parks. The Parks belong to the University, hence their name and are managed by the University. The River Cherwell flows through and is a magnet for punts, picnic parties, sports events as there are tennis courts, cricket pitches and rugby fields. The Rainbow Bridge is a popular place for jumpers in the summer who want to cool off in the River; not strictly allowed, but 'it's only a bit of fun' as Rob Brydon used to say.

More on the Parks tomorrow............................ so watch this space.

The Ghost of Empress Matilda - Oxford Castle

For those of you thinking of visiting Oxford, I thought that you might be interested to learn a potted history of one of the inhabitants of the Oxford Castle and Prison. The site spans from 10th century to today although in recent years it has been turned into a (very nice) hotel and restaurant retaining many of the original features, including the high, narrow corridors which prisoners had to take to get into their cells. I have had a tour of the (now hotel) and seen original features. The cells have become hotel rooms; they use two cells per hotel room, but the original cell doors remain.

The ghostly white figure of Empress Matilda is reputed to be the most 'seen' ghost in the whole of England. So.................


Empress Matilda, who was she? Matilda was born in 1101 and was the only surviving legitimate child of King Henry I. At the age of 12 she married the German Emperor, Henry V; he was 32; they had no children. After his death, Matilda returned home and needing an heir to support her claim to become Queen, she married again and this time bore 3 sons. However, when her father died she was in Anjou and Maine with her husband, Prince Geoffrey, and was not able to take up her rightful position on the throne and so her cousin Stephen was crowned. Matilda however, wanted that crown and so eventually she staged a coup and so began the Civil War when she was eventually able to capture Stephen at the Battle of Lincoln in February 1141. She was declared Queen, 'Lady of the English'. However, she had alienated people and never became Queen, her succession came in the form of her son, who would become Henry II in 1154.

During her fight for supremacy against Stephen she was imprisoned in Oxford Castle and in 1141 she made a daring escape with the help of three loyal footmen. Dressed in white she scaled the building and escaped across the frozen River Thames on horseback. Those who saw her and her helpers said that they looked like ghosts.

She died at Rouen on 10th September 1169.

For whatever reason, Empress Matilda has chosen Oxford Castle to be her 'home'. So, next time you're in Oxford do go and say 'hello' to her................

Driving Along in my Automobile

The sun is out, the sky is blue, the birds are singing, and I am reunited with my little red automobile. Oh joy! Top down, sun on my face, breezes blowing through my hair, sunglasses, Chanel handbag (red of course, to match car!), singing along to Barbra (Streisand), what a good road trip. Yes, the lanes of Oxfordshire don't know what's hit them today. Fun is back!!!

My first born son

Today folks, you might think that this is not a travel story, but it is set in Hong Kong and it is something which happened to me on my travels, so indulge me; I'm feeling in a strange mood. My two boys are both far, far away; one in Australia and the other in Vietnam and I miss them. More tales of their travels to come, later.........................

So, where was I? Oh, yes! Fat, sick and bloated in Hong Kong! Pretty sight. I'll spare you the full details of the nine months of hell. From the day my Doctor told me that I was expecting until the day that Nicholas arrived, I was sick, sick, sick!!

One morning however, I woke up and thought, 'this is it' I nudged Rob, he woke from his snoring slumbers off we set to Mathilda Hospital, fortunately less than five minutes drive from our apartment.

Just like the pregnancy though, the labour did not run smoothly and after many hours of lying in agony I was told I'd need a caesarian. 'No way' I shouted............ so to cut the long and painful details short, after a long time, my first born, arrived. 'He's too pretty to be a boy' were the first words the doctor and nurses said. Sure enough, he was. The most beautiful baby ever born, and he was all mine (well, I let Rob take a little credit!).

I wanted to run all over the hospital telling everyone that I had a son, a beautiful, wonderful miracle. Unfortunately, due to the epidural it was a further two days before I could get up and walk about.

My baby and I sat on the balcony of our hotel (sorry, hospital) room and watched the boats bobbing in the harbour. I sang the usual songs that mothers sing 'my boy Bill' (changed to Nicholas), 'I'm a pink toothbrush, you're a blue toothbrush' 'indky, winky spider' you get the picture!

What days! What sleepless nights were to come............no, actually they weren't. Nicholas a pretty good baby, I'm a heavy sleeper! Need I say more??

Beginning at the beginning!

Third day of blogging and many thanks to all of you who have said how much you have enjoyed reading my first couple of attempts at writing and humour!



I hope that my anecdotes and little insights into my past and future will amuse and entertain. I welcome all comments from you and if anyone would like to know more specific facts about countries I've lived in or visited, or advice about visiting any please let me know.



I haven't visited every country in the world, although that is my ambition, but I love researching and so if you would like to know anything about any country at all I'm happy to investigate and get back to you with what information I can find.



I hope that this will develop into a two-way process and so any stories of travels around this small world of ours that you have made are welcome additions to this embryonic blogspot.

Happy travelling........................

Hong Kong

So, today I thought I'd tell you about a funny incident which happened to me when I was living in Hong Kong. This is during the days when Britain governed the island and a friend who worked for the Hong Kong Government invited me to attend the Governor's Christmas Party as long as I agreed to sing in the choir. No problem, I was already a member of a couple of choirs and so what fun! So the choir sang excerpts from 'The Messiah' and afterwards came my favourite part of any party, eating and drinking!! Armed with a vol-au-vent and a glass of champagne I duly mingled with the crowd when out of the corner of my eye I spied the Governor heading my way. Oh dear, I thought, what do I do? No hand free to shake his hand. Only one thing to do, eat the vol-au-vent! Well, friends, big mistake. the vol-au-vent crumbled all over my face, hands, the floor, just as Governor Maclehose approached. He took one look at me, gave me a polite nod, I apologized for my sticky hands and off he went.

This, I should warn you, is not the first nor the last time, that I have greeted dignatories in a sticky, alcoholic mess!

England

Hello there,

This is my first blog. So, what's it like out there in the big wide world? this small planet which we live one. Fascinating isn't it?

Over the coming weeks I hope that we can share our love of this planet and that you will enjoy my talks of travels I've done, places I've visited, the interesting people I've met.

I much look forward to hearing from you and to learning from other people.

Over the coming days I hope that you will learn more about me and enjoy the trip!!!..........