We finally landed at Heathrow and thought we had it all figured out about catching the bus to the hotel. So we jumped on the tube, went to the terminal we (read, Michelle) thought we needed to get to, but alas, we were very wrong. So we ended up backwards and forwards between terminals until we found a taxi rank and just ignored all of the above. I’ll jump ahead a little here as we seem to be having some issues with deciding what the speed limit on the roads are – but we haven’t been anywhere close to the speeds this cabbie did getting us to the motel. I am sure we’ll figure that out somewhere along the line though. Needless to say, we didn’t see much of London at all as we were staying close to Heathrow, but we had a light meal (Jamie’s burger had its plastic wrap cooked into the patty) and Mark and Jamie had their first pints. We all crashed out then, waking at 2am because our bodies hadn’t quite figured out the time zones yet.
Brekkie – I am glad I brought a little jar of vegemite, but Mark is still waiting for a decent coffee. Then it was back to Heathrow - we figured out the bus this time as the cab ride was £34, and then spent a good half hour trying to figure out how to get to a hire car company that wasn’t answering the phone. Now, no offence meant here, but by geez, German people are pretty rude and pretty pushy and the French are just… well…. ! We had to upgrade the car so we would all fit, and have ended up with a rather nice (expensive) Volvo. Who knew you could start cars by pushing buttons! With me at the wheel, we headed off along the M4, M25, M bloody whatever it was in the long run. Needless to say, this was a tense time in our trip. Jamie is insisting that I write here “and Jamie was right with directions”. (Hmpf).
KNOLE HOUSE:
We thought we were headed for Knole House, and after some lovely windy and narrow country roads, ended up at Knole Estate. We started a big walk, very pretty and all, saw lots of deer and horse poop, but there was no Knole House to be seen. When we wandered onto the golf course, we decided we were probably in the wrong place. Back to the car, back down the country road, stopped to ask a man directions and he looked at us like we were weird as he said we couldn’t miss Knole, it was a pretty big place. (Hmpf again). We found a lady who was a little more detailed in her directions (funny that) and headed back up the road. We had turned off too early, and when we found it, it was indeed a pretty big place.
We pulled into the parking lot and saw a big herd of deer, which Jamie and I tried to get as close as possible to (Mark is dictating here and is trying to tell me that Jamie and I chased them “like lions to the prey”, but we didn’t). The deer were very cute, and there was a fawn as well. We did lots of oohing and aahing over them, but I get the impression these will not be the only deer we see on this trip. We headed over towards the house/castle and entered a big grassy court. Knole House is 500 years old, had 330 rooms, 7 courtyards, 52 staircases, and Mark’s favourite – it’s own brewery. It was raining on and off,and so we gave in and bought a ‘brolly’ and decided to support the National Trust by buying three chocolate bars (yummmm).
At noon, the doors to the house itself opened onto ‘The Stone Courtyard’. There were huge antlers on the wall (see photo in Picasa) and an enormous ornate trough for horses to drink from, probably because they would have had a long journey as well if they too made the mistake of going to Knole estate rather than Knole House first. Inside the house, the opulence of the era (for the aristocracy at least) was evident. There were magnificent and huge portraits everywhere, with intricate frames and very detailed clothing (almost like a photograph in many). They lined every room from floor to ceiling. In one of the dressing rooms, all of the portraits were of Charles II mistresses. If there happened to not be a painting on a wall, it was because it was in a bedroom, where the walls were lined with tapestries instead. The age of the fabrics were obvious, very faded and worn, and the whole house was quite dark to help stop deterioration of items. The beds were all four posters with the tops of them almost at the ceiling (16 foot or there abouts). One room had King James II bed – and then there was “The King’s Bedroom” which I think may have been Henry VIII’s. The room was huge, and it had amazing silverware in it. There was an enormous silver dresser and mirror, yes, ALL silver, and the mirror had a big crown on top. There was a full size billiard table that would have been hundreds of years old and very impressive. Needless to say, we were not allowed to play on it. The walls were all wood paneling (what you could see of them around all the portraits) and each room had enormous fireplaces, many that were made from alabaster. I read a bit there which said that mould and damp was destroying the house and its items, but that back in its heyday, the fires would be lit in every room, all day, every day, and that helped to stop mould throughout the house.
BODIAM CASTLE:
Next up was Bodiam castle, built in 1385 by Sir Edward Dalyngrigge. This is the castle used by Monty Python in ‘The Holy Grail’ in the Tales of Sir Lancelot scene. Needless to say, Mark did a fabulous rendition of trotting hooves by clapping his hands – he had no empty halved coconut shells on him at the time to do it properly. Jamie and I thought about being horses to humour him, but we’re obviously not particularly giving in that aspect. The castle is in ruins (being so old, I guess), but it was everything you would imagine a medieval castle to look like. It was surrounded by a great old moat which had lots of ducks and giant catfish in it. We did a lap around the outside and got some great photos. We crossed the ‘drawbridge’ and made our way in through the main entrance. We wandered around and looked out all the keyholes and up inside the turrets. We climbed a tremendously narrow and steep spiral staircase with tiny steps up onto one of the turrets. Fabulous views, fabulous vertigo on my part.
BIRLING GAP:
We decided to skip the white cliffs at Dover as I had read that the chalk cliffs extended the whole shoreline from Dover to Brighton, and that around Birling Gap we’d get some great views of them without all the infrastructure of a port city behind them. So we drove south to Eastbourne with the intent of having lunch at the Beachy Head Hotel. We arrived and the pub was packed, so we decided we’d just head on to Brighton to eat instead. We didn’t bargain on the major winds though. Mark opened the back door of the car and it almost blew off! Jamie headed over to the cliffs, but couldn’t see anything. So we headed west along the coastline and came to a section where some people had pulled over, so we figured we’d brave the wind and rain to take a look. I saw one guy down on his belly crawling out to the edge of the cliff, if it wasn’t so wet I’d have done the same. We edged out as much as we were game to, in fear of just being blown off the edge. Looking back towards Beachy Head, we could see the rock (chalk) face of the cliffs. It was bloody awesome to be honest. Mark took off to get some closer photos and Jamie and I ended up taking a photo where it looked like her jacket was turning into a pair of wings. Back to the car, we drove down a little more and came to Birling Gap – even more fabulous views of the cliff faces. Again, we were almost blown across the Atlantic. We went inside the café for a cuppa and some scones, but if you are ever at the National Trust café at Birling Gap, don’t buy the scones. We needed chisels just to break them open – the wind must have gotten to them as well.
From there, we drove on to Brighton where we were staying the night. Mark wants me to write here “Brighton is a hole”, and yes, it wasn’t quite as I had pictured it. We just couldn’t make it out onto the pier, the wind was extreme and too bloody cold for us Aussies. We had a wander around the streetsnear our hotel and went into a pub for some dinner. We won’t talk about the food (it’s all part of the adventure, right?) but we did enjoy the drinks – Mark and Jamie had a pint each, and the glass of red I got, well, it seemed to come in a pint glass as well.
Click here to see the photos
No comments:
Post a Comment