More of Nashville, health mecca of Tennessee

One needs to wash one’s tea bag before making tea with it. At least that is what a small Chinese woman (the kitchen assistant at Belle Meade Best Western) told me at breakfast. She actually stopped me in the process of making tea to take me in the kitchen area, discard the water I’d just poured over my tea bag so that I could refill using my now clean tea bag. Amazing! I’ve gone 70 years without knowing that. Of course it would have tasted much better in a china teacup. So far all we've seen is polystyrene, yuk.

While that was interesting and a bit amusing, it was not the most exciting happening of the early morning; that fell to Kathie who set the fire alarm going when ironing in the room. Flashing lights and loud beeps accompanied us to the breakfast area. No one turned a hair, and the beeping continued as I learned about washing tea bags and we tried to diagnose what was on offer for breakfast.

Maxine started to spoon out what she thought was porridge into her bowl before someone pointed out it was sausage gravy. We looked on open-mouthed as large men lashed their biscuits with great dollops of the beige sludge. 

The lights were still flashing when we came downstairs for our tour bus an hour later. This time a fire alarm expert was coming in to fix it, claimed he smelt smoke, as we did. We were glad to be getting out of there.

According to Steve our Grayline bus driver, Nashville is a ‘4-Hooter town.’ In the same breath he told us Nashville was the ‘Buckle of the Bible Belt.’ The mind boggles.

Steve settled into a running commentary about the history of Nashville, a river town with a population of half a million. The main industry is HEALTH. Judging by the large medical establishments in the place we believed him. The whole population must be as sick as dogs to support those conglomerates, or made to feel that way at least.

What a disillusionment, here we were thinking that music was the driving force behind the city but it comes second, followed by tourism. We saw the Parthenon, modelled on the original to such a fine degree that when the original Parthenon in Greece was being spruced up they came to Nashville and copied the plans!

We saw Loretta Lynn’s 2 homes and where Sarah Conner aka Minnie Pearl used to live. The music industry is a $6 billion industry, I dread to think what the health industry generates. Haven’t they heard of health promotion? Maybe if more people washed their tea bags and stopped eating sausage gravy they might get better.

painting of Ryman Auditorium

We passed Elvis’s favourite RCA recording studio and various independent recording studios, only from the outside unfortunately. We did go inside the Ryman Auditorium however.
It was once a church filled with pews of people listening to the gospel. The space has great acoustics; those preachers must have frightened the devil right out of there. Then after various ups and down it became a mecca for performers of all kinds from Ballet companies to Johnny Cash and the Carter family. The old bill posters made fascinating reading.

The most intriguing place however was the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.

From old film footage of the pioneers of country music (English and Irish fiddlers) to the gospel and blues influences of black slaves I could understand the roots of Dolly Parton’s urge to write about the hardships and longings of life (her scribbled jottings of Jolene are on display) and Elvis’s unique blending of country, blues and gospel into rock ‘n’ roll.

Histories of the likes of Tammy Wynette and Loretta Lynn are depicted in detail, but I didn’t see much about current country singers. We were especially taken with the Silver Dollar Car (not Elvis’s) with it’s fake bull horns on the front and pistols for door handles etc.

Johnny Cash & June Carter's clothes

You’d have thought I’d have left there with some country ditty running around in my head but no; for some reason I have bars of “Killing me Softly” as a constant companion throughout the whole time in the USA, could not get rid of it.

We left there with the 'hooter-lovin’ Steve pointing out Roy Orbison’s building from where the family continues to run their business. We didn’t get to see the current Grand Ole Opry because it is still recovering from the floods of a few months ago, and backstage tours did not seem to be available. Performances have resumed but we didn’t attend any, we were too knackered in the evenings.

We returned to the hotel about one thirty to find it still in one piece and no fire bells ringing. At a place near Calhoun’s (of the great steak from the night before) we availed ourselves of their chicken wrap special, a bargain at 4.95. Then onto something completely different.

The Pacific Northwest glass artist Dale Chihuly was exhibiting his pieces in the gardens of Cheekwood Manor, only 3 miles from out hotel. I’ll let the photos do the talking.

 Needless to say it was a high reading on the pedometer by the end of the day, 9116 steps. Must be good for our health!

On the road to Nashville, Tennessee

October 15 2010


None of us was prepared for the beauty of Tennessee, not because of negative expectations, we had none...of any kind. It’s just that no one in our lives has raved about it. I’m going to rave about it, especially Chattanooga.

To get in the mood I’m playing Music by The Highwaymen, namely, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, and Kris Kristofferson singing on their album ‘The road goes on forever.’ Sometimes it felt like that on our road trip but not on the I-24 to Tennessee because of the beauty of the rolling green hills and the abundance of trees, most of which were still green when we passed through.

We wanted to stop in Chattanooga because of the song, ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo,’ a song written and recorded in December 1941 a year and a half after I was born. We grew up listening to it. Dad must have had it among his 78s. 

The Chattanooga Choo Choo train is parked at the Station which also is a hotel with the inevitable gift shop and nice looking restaurant that we did not stop at. We’d heard there was a free shuttle to the city and were surprised to find it was an electric powered bus, and that Chattanooga is a centre for research into electric powered transportation. Interesting given it’s train history.

The trip to the city revealed a visitor centre that directed us to a pedestrian bridge across the Tennessee River, one of the many large rivers of America, (1049 kms long). We walked the boardwalk of the bridge (about a mile long) over the river to the North shore. Stunning scenery on a beautiful day, with the foothills of mountains in the background and rocky ridges on the shore line. After a subway sandwich eaten in the sunshine we walked back.

Two of four bridges over Tennessee River

The free shuttle provided entertainment with local school children leaning to name foods and places with a designated letter of the alphabet, a nice finishing off to a lovely 2 hours visit. Since looking up what Chattanooga has to offer the visitor I would say it would be worthy of a few days stay. We however had other fish to fry so we moved on.

Our next stop was a diversion. A friend of Maxine’s lives in Tullahoma, and since she is an ex pat of English origin we looked forward to a robust cup of tea in real cups. Thus far we had been subjected to piss poor offerings in polystyrene cups with wimpy American tea bags that needed a minimum of ten minutes steeping.

While looking at the map Maxine pointed out Soddy Daisy, a town off the beaten track, all on its own. “is it any wonder!’ she said. We laughed as we speculated how it could have got its name. I’ve looked it up, it isn’t half as interesting as the ones we came up with, just a joining up of the two communities Soddy with Daisy. Didn't bother looking up those origins.

We traversed country roads, passing many churches, some of which I’ve never heard, although Baptist features the most followed by Methodist. Ann lives in a rural area, a great house on a few acres. The tea was beyond our expectations, in fact it was too strong, were we becoming acclimatized?

Kathie & Maxine in Ann's Garden Tullahoma

She kindly drove in front to guide us out onto a shorter access onto highway I-24. We made Nashville about an hour later. We were destined to taste our best steak of the trip, at Calhoun’s down the road from the Belle Meade Best Western, our hotel for the next two nights, chosen because it had refrigeration!



Attacking key lime pie, Nashville

 Bonnie our recommended waitress, with the hard face and pleasant manner, served us proficiently. It is so nice coming across people who are good at their jobs! The creamed spinach was to die for, and Maxine got her key lime pie at last. In fact we shared it, being too full of steak, baked potato, bourbon carrots and the aforementioned spinach to attempt a slice each.

We fell into bed having completed 7,308 steps according to Kathie’s pedometer, 700 up on the previous day’s steps in Atlanta. That translates to about 3 and a half miles. What awaits us tomorrow?

Off to Atlanta

Have decided to postpone blog about NY and get on the road.  (I will be returning there in a few days, and will expound then.)

At JFK got a rookie luggage searcher who spotted something in my bag.

Let me backtrack: I planned to check in my bag and packed accordingly eg. shower gel, aerosol mousse, scissors. The guy at check-in had other ideas; 'you'll miss your flight if you do that.'  Hence the dilemma and the delay at security. Managed to keep the scissors, (short, blunt ended) but had to dump the other stuff.

How I've hated all this security checking; shoes off, netbook in tray etc. When you do a multi flight holiday it gets old very quickly (actually from the first flight!) Naturally I boarded with a migraine.

Fortunately the flight to Atlanta was uneventful, and picking up the car from Enterprise went smoothly (a white Ford, 4 door automatic). The Comfort Inn Downtown is definitely low market but the reception was friendly. Lucky for us no ball game was playing at nearby Turner Field so we had the area pretty much to ourselves.

The room had no fridge, occasioning frequent visits to the ice machine so that I could keep my thyroid pills cool.

The 49 bus which stops outside the hotel took us the 4 miles into town. We'd heard much about the Underground Market in Atlanta and were eager to see the sights.

Believe me it aint that great. Many of the stores were closed and it was not bustling with people. In fact the whole area looks as though it's struggling to keep up, if not downright seedy. This was brought home to us when a store owner advised us about which direction to walk when we left his shop. We didn't probe further and took the right turn as he advised.

At Score's sports bar (in the Underground Market) had my first rack of ribs, albeit shared with Kathie. It was enormous, tasty and tender, covered lightly in smoky sauce. 

Rediscovered the fact that the price quoted on the menu is not the price you pay; there is state tax and the tip, in total whacking an extra 21% plus on the bill. Ah well, this is America!

Things picked up on day 2:

"You gotta scrape it ma'am." Words of advice from Atlanta's finest helping me make my breakfast waffle, in true do it yourself style. Police seem to visit this hotel regularly, we're not sure why although on that morning one client woke up to find his car stolen from the parking lot.  The police helping themselves to coffee in the breakfast area advised hotel staff to call 911, (they were already on it) so even more police showed up. The waffle was so so, too much liquid in the mix.

We left them to it, heading into Atlanta for our city tour in a little open sided (?electric) buggy.

Steve our driver/host was articulate, knowledgeable and cute. We learned the history of Atlanta from the 1861 civil war to the rebuilding of the city, much of which seemed to happen circa 1913. Discovered the more well-heeled parts of the city, and how much it all cost, a pattern of information to be repeated in all out future city tours. I ask you, who cares?



The afternoon saw us visiting CNN. What a huge enterprise it is. You enter a large atrium, mall, court type place with eateries, shops and the like. The tour begins when you ascend via the world's tallest free standing escalator: it takes 2 1/2 minutes to reach the top. Turner broadcasting employs 3,400 people. Kathie did a cold read of news from a teleprompter. As expected she didn't miss a beat, and impressed our guide.

We were told that the people who stare at computer screeens all day long scouring for news, have a lot of laser surgeries. No wonder.

There is now a Spanish lanuage CNN. We learned a lot about cameras, watched an anchorwoman doing her stuff. All the employess understand they will be stared at like monkeys in a zoo and learn to ignore it. Indeed the building was planned with tours in mind. Tours began in 1987. There is hotel on site too.

After red beans and rice (which I like very much) we walked across the park where the shooting took place during the 1996 Olympics to Coca Cola. Now I didn't particularly want to go there but it came with the tour package.

Little did I know that so much happiness came out of those bubbles. What have I been missing out on all these years?  Of course it was one big advertising campaign and people lined up and paid inflated prices buying items advertising the product. Not me, but I did avail myself of the free coke (although a week later I have still not drunk it)  and taste tested products from a vareity of countries.

The highlight was the 4D viewing experience at the end, it is truly amazing with rocking seats, mini showers of water and things that seemed to leap off the screeen.

The evening ended up with catfish in a sports bar and a date with my new best friend Rand McMally, plotting the route out of Atlanta and on to Nashville. We also booked the next hotel, making sure our room had a fridge in it.

Sculpture in Atlanta

Going down south

Oct 17 2010


Now, don’t get excited. I’m not talking about Memphis where we’re heading this morning (I’m writing this in the car) but Brighton on the south coast of England where an old school friend lives with her husband. Valerie and I re-connected via Friends Reunited 2 years ago. We hadn’t seen each other since we were 14 years old, Those who know me can work out how long ago that was!

First Class worked this time on the train from Newark to London. Enjoyed my free coffee and the decent loos. Just as well. Things were chaotic in London thanks to a strike by underground staff… so plan B; catch the 73 bus to Victoria wherefrom the train to Brighton leaves. Naturally it was crowded with people like me trying to figure out how to buy a ticket for said bus. In the end it didn’t matter, no one bothered to look.

So I saw a bit of London I did not expect to see since my London friends moved to Sheffield: Oxford Street, Piccadilly Circus, Marble Arch, even the gold helmets and bright red coats of the Horse guards trotting into Hyde Park.

Like Preston, another smart car was there to meet me, this time a snazzy red Volvo, lovely!

We went through Valerie’s old autograph books, remember them? I was surprised at my neat hand writing ta age 13 or so. One of my entries read, ‘Valerie now, Valerie for ever, Dennis now but not for ever.’ Dennis was her surname. (In the spirit of the times we gals were not expected to keep our maiden names for long.)

A series of coincidences, spooky moments, degrees of separation, call them what you will, happened on this visit. Valerie’s husband is currently concerning himself with local apples, the kind whose seeds need to be saved and cared for in order to keep propagating them. (Hope I got that right) Naturally I told him about our ancestor and her Bramley apple seeds, (See blog Sept 30 2010)

Next, a relative of Valerie’s parents recently died. Turns out she was the wife of my sister Maxine’s local doctor in Saxilby where she used to live. In fact said doctor was present when her second child was born. As to the third coincidence, read on…

Valerie and I took a trip to Lewes, a place I’ve never been. It has many steep narrow cobbled streets, a bit like Lincoln. Among many historical buildings it has a castle and the Fifteenth Century Bookstore.

 In there I found a very 20th century tale, namely ‘Last Train to Memphis,’ the story of Elvis Presley’s early life. How cool was that! Valerie very kindly made a present of it for me. It is detailed and perfect for my trip. Naturally I am reading it as we travel through America.

Back to Lewes: we sweet talked our way into the back garden of Anne of Cleves House, circa 1540. She was one of Henry the eighth's wives, lucky enough to escape with her life. Her house, which she never lived in, is a building site right now and we were supposed to wear hard hats. I took a few quick photos and retreated.

Anne of Cleves House

Back in Brighton, we walked around the Pavilion, George the fourth’s weekend retreat. Wondered if he started the trend of using Brighton for dirty weekends? In the sixties, Brighton was well known for it.

Brighton Pavilion

A lovely meal at a Tandoori restaurant finished off my stay very nicely thank you Valerie and Brian.

With Brian’s book about South East England in my luggage I boarded the train at Brighton, managing to catch one that took me all the way to St. Pancras (next door to Kings Cross) so did not have to negotiate the underground at all, nice one.

With a nod to Harry Potter on Platform 9 ¾ I found my first class seat for the journey north.

Platform 9 3/4

We streaked through the fields of North Hants to the accompaniment of loud business discussions. Over numerous cups of coffee three exec types sitting across from me talked as though they were the only people on the train. They were supermarket men, two Americans, ex Walmart one of them, and one Brit. The ex Walmart guy described their employees as Walmartians. I ask you, Walmartians! They were on the way to Leeds. Fortunately I got off before that.

That was the last of my train journeys in the UK, and I’m wondering if buying first class was worth it since many trains don’t have first class carriages, with trains from Lincoln a prime example. On balance it turned out alright but I have learned not to expect too much, and that travelling on a weekday out of rush hour is the best time. There are plenty of seats available without having to book.

I’m trying to think of some nice rounded ending but I’m too tired. We’ve reached Memphis and I’m full of southern fried chicken and my eyes are getting heavy……….

Going 'oop north

Oct 15 2010


In the road in Tennessee and here I am not done with my English blog yet. Given that we’ve packed so much into the last 3 days it is hard to leave the excitement. Never mind you’ll have to wait for that.

I went ‘oop north’ to visit dear friends in Preston and Bamfurlong near Wigan. Passing through Manchester on the train the sight of the canals reminded me of the Industrial Revolution when cotton and wool from the ‘dark, satanic’ mills was shipped out through places like Manchester to all parts of the world. How said mills employed children as young as three who endured horrendous working conditions and danger such that it killed many, and stunted the growth of those more lucky. I thought of the trade unions formed in this area and the fight they had to force decent working conditions that we all take for granted today, four weeks holiday a year, sick leave, a 40 hour week to name a few (although the 40 hour week seems to be fast disappearing these days.)

I expected noting but begrimed and be-sooted buildings between Manchester and Preston but I was pleasantly surprised to encounter gentle green slopes, plenty of trees and grazing sheep. This will be an enduring memory of England, something I’ve forgotten or taken for granted in the past. Maybe my recent trip in the Top End of Australia with its red earth and sparse trees have provided such a stark contrast that it startled my consciousness into a better appreciation of England’s lush green countryside.

I bought a first class rail flexi pass because I could get a senior discount at a cost of a only few dollars more than the standard class which does not offer a senior rate. Overall it worked out fairly alright but was disappointing on the first leg of this trip; no service and grotty toilets. Gagging for a brew, I purchased coffee at Manchester Station only to find that First Class in the second leg provided free beverages. There was some consolation in the free fruit cake.

My friends met me at the station in a shiny new Audi (Is that A5 or A6?) Nothing second class about that car, it did everything except make a cup of tea…lovely!

It was pretty cool but fine..ish when we took the dog for a walk in the morning. Watched birds from a bird hide and a grey squirrel bustling about stocking up for winter. The grey squirrels are not looked upon kindly in the UK. They are bullying their way about the place pinching all the nosh from the more timid red squirrels which don’t seem to be around much any more.

At the pub I saw a sight I’d never seen before, Yorkshire puddings stacked up under glass ready to be added to the roast meat special of the day.

On a day trip to Manchester the following day we ran into the Labour party Conference…well the barriers and the police at least. Ed Milliband had just been voted the new labour leader that weekend. While the media went hysterical, most people I spoke to scratched their heads and yawned about it.

Given my musings on the train (a la industrial revolution etc.) it seemed appropriate to visit the People’s Museum which was exhibiting the history of people’s protests over the ages.

Fights for working conditions and the suffragettes were represented, even an executioner’s axe for killing said protesters.

Pictures and artefacts of anti apartheid protests of the seventies, alongside feminist marches of the same decade were also displayed.

After 3 days I said farewell to dear friends and boarded the train, remarking to myself how more efficient the trains seemed to be these day. Oh dear…spoke too soon, even it was to myself. The train developed brake problems and limped into one station before I needed to get off. Of course I missed my connection and arrived back in Nettleham an hour late.

Sometimes howeer it is good to see things from a different angle to appreciate them. The missed connection was a petty annoyance but revisiting England’s past history and present beauty was worth the trip. Not to mention my wonderful friends!!!!

Hedgehog Hospital

Hedgehog Hospital, Authorpe, Lincolnshire.


First of all, where to find it.

Authorpe rates one line in Wikipedia: Authorpe is a village north west of Alford, Lincolnshire, England lying between the A16 road and the A157 road. It has a chapel, and former brickpits.

Frankly I’m surprised it rates a mention it is so tiny, the parish all of 941 acres. In 1931 the population was 112, probably not much more now judging by the number of houses. The only access I know is by car. There is a sign directing you to the hedgehog hospital but you have to look for it. Then you follow a vey narrow road which is not well signposted. Most of the time there is no on to ask either but it is well worth it when you get there. Be prepared for a higgledy piggledy state of affairs. It is not a pristine antiseptic world. The sign says it all.

This is the third time I’ve visited. The first time I was startled to see the coutnry lanes in front of the hedghog hospital filled with bikers. They raise money and were due there the following weekend. I've always been sorry I didn't photograph the sight.

This visit was the saddest. The place is running down. The little hedgehog footprints painted on the path are fading, the owner weary and limping. However her enthusiasm for hedgehogs continues to burn very brightly. She is totally dedicated to rescuing hedgehogs from the effects of indiscriminate spraying by council workers, inadvertent spearings by enthusiastic compost turning, over friendly dogs etc.

What are hedgehogs? (Taken from a website about hedgehogs)

There are some 15 species of hedgehog in Europe, Asia, and Africa. Hedgehogs have also been introduced into nontraditional ranges such as New Zealand (none in Australia). The hedgehog was named because of its peculiar foraging methods. These animals root through hedges and other undergrowth in search of the small creatures that compose the bulk of their diet—insects, worms, centipedes, snails, mice, frogs, and snakes. As a hedgehog picks its way through the hedges it emits piglike grunts—thus, the hedgehog.

Some people consider hedgehogs useful pets because they prey on many common garden pests. While on the hunt, they rely upon their senses of hearing and smell because their eyesight is weak.

We saw them in the garden regularly as kids but I fear they are not as plentiful now.

Click on Elaine Drewery’s annual newsletter online and you will see for yourself how devoted she is. But it has not been updated since 2004, possibly a sign she is not keeping up. http://www.hedgehogcare.org.uk/05_hedgehog_care_rescue_sanctuary_about_us.htm

The website below describes it as a ‘Famous little hospital, self-funded, not very posh!’

http://www.lincolnshire.gov.uk/popiOrgVenue.asp?vid=334

Elaine showed us some of the long term residents in the Oliver Brown ward who would not be able to survive on their own, one blind, one without a snout, a few with missing legs. Then she took us to the intensive care unit. I was both horrified and moved. All the chairs in her small living room are taken up with boxes of hedgehogs being nursed from the brink of death. She lovingly takes some of them out and shows them off, each one named, and describes their mishaps and treatment, comprising round the clock antibiotics and cleaning of snouts, squeezing of abscesses etc. (One abscess needed urgent attention while we were there) A coal fire burned in the grate guaranteeing warmth for her little charges but uncomfortable for visitors.

While we were there a local couple brought in a new case. Elaine immediately spotted his poor colour and shortness of breath. He was destined for intensive care. Nevertheless he headed for the nearest underbrush when she took him out of the box.

The hedgehogs she receives now will stay with her through the hibernating months of winter then she rehabilitates those more able back into the countryside. A local woman has 33 acres of land, and takes  a few each year, gradually weaning them off their canned cat food until they can forage sufficiently for themselves.

Of course some hedgehogs don’t get this far. If Elaine sees a hedgehog nearing the end she feeds him or her a last supper. Mind you, one or two have had last suppers and are still surviving, although they cannot return to the wild. There is a hedgehog cemetery in the back of the property and a memorial to them.

If anyone deserves a medal it is Elaine but, in her own words, she is looked upon as a crank and a nuisance. She believes hedgehogs have as much right to exist in this world as humans. Who can argue with that? I hope she gets enough help and money to continue her work. Maybe the single winner of this weekend's 112 million pound Euro Lottery could throw a million or two her way.



memorial to hedgehogs



"Oh I do like to be beside the seaside..."

A day at Skegness.


That’s the seaside UK style, with donkey rides on the sand, fish and chips in paper and bingo on the sea front (no brass bands a la song.)

Now as to the sea…nothing has changed, it’s so far out you can barely see it at low tide, and it’s not much better at high tide. When you do see it, it is brown. It did not detract from our enjoyment when we were kids wearing our knitted bathing costumes which sagged (seriously)when wet. We used to jump the waves singing ‘Shrimp boats are a-comin’ a-comin’ a-comin...’

seeeing the sea from the big wheel

Did I say ‘waves?’ I never saw them more than a few millimetres high, which of course made it safe for us kids, but of course on our day trip last week I could hardly see them at all until we rode the big wheel. Never mind it was a beautiful sunny day.

STOP 1: the donut kiosk for fresh made donuts, 4 for a pound except that the donut maker gave us 5. (I think he fancied Jose, always handy to have a young personable woman with you on these occasions.)



donut kiosk


STOP 2: coffee, not bad but I’ve been starved of really good coffee in the UK. The Starbucks instant packs have helped, but for over the counter, Neros are the best. They advertise double shots hence the attraction for me.

STOP 3: Bingo; you sit at a machine a bit like a ‘pokie’ sliding a black cover over each number as it is called. The caller sits behind the players instead of in front. He had a problem with his ths so 33 was ‘firty free’ etc. No matter. We each put a pound in the slot and played till it ran out. No need to call Gamblers Anonymous on this tight bunch! Maxine won a prize, a tatty looking hedgehog which seems to have found a permanent home in the back of her car.

STOP 4: Fish and chips at the Clock Tower restaurant where we had to wait a while. Personally I think we might have done better with them in paper sitting on a bench in the warm sun because the fish was over cooked and the chips average. Given that the restaurant advertises that they cook to order, hence the wait, we expected a better meal. 

clock tower Skegness



STOP 5: Baby Boutique; okay not strictly the kind of thing for which one goes on a day trip to Skegness but hey, there’s a new baby girl in the family and I’m drawn to these places, and …they had a sale! (This side trip put paid to our plans to play crazy golf.)

STOP 6: Went on the Big Wheel instead. At last a big wheel where it’s supposed to be, in a fun fair at the seaside, not cluttering up the cities of England where there seems to have been an epidemic since the London Eye went up in 2000.

STOP 7: camel races. No not the real thing that occasionally take place at Canterbury race course in Sydney. These are the kind at seaside funfairs where you roll balls into a slot to move camels along grooves in competition with your fellow rollers. Of course Maxine won again…twice.

STOP 8: the ice cream stall, the soft white kind. I ordered a 99, which has a Cadbury Flake in it. The flakes are smaller now and they cost twice as much.

STOP 9: Authorpe to visit Hedgehog Care, which merits its own blog. See you next time.

Last of the Summer Wine country

Another day out with dad, this time on a luxury coach to visit Holmfirth in West Yorkshire. It is a two hour bus journey from Lincoln. Unlike Bushie, the Ozzie bus driver, Dave was personable, chatty and obliging. While waiting for the stragglers we pointed out that the bus clock wa an hour ahead of the time. The bus had been to Spain the week before and was still on continental time. Dave changed it with a round magnet - never seen that before! 

According to Wikipedia, Holmfirth originally grew up around a corn mill and bridge in the 13th century. Three hundred years later Holmfirth expanded rapidly as the growing cloth trade grew and the production of stone and slates from the surrounding quarries increased. We saw evidence of old quarry sites and the ever present low stone walls fencing off the sheep in the surrounding pastures.

Everyone on the bus but me (who has hardly seen the series) was excited to see Norah Batty's house, Sid's Cafe etc from the longest running sitcom in the world, 'Last of the Summer Wine.' For those of you who don't know (like me) the series centred around a trio of old men, and their crazy antics. As dad said, they should have cast him. 

I got caught up in everyone's pleasure, and will take in some of the re-runs on UK TV when I get back to Australia. One of the longest serving cast members, Bill Owens who played the part of Compo is buried in Holmfirth.

Holmfirth is beautifully situated among steep green hills, with narrow roads and treacherous corners. On a day when heavy rain was forecast we were lucky that it held off for most of the day. Once it did rain however the stream through the village went from gently trickling to heavy rushing in the space of half an hour. The place has flooded from time to time and we could see how.

It is a tiny but busy place. If we hadn't had dad with us (still recovering from his knee replacement op) we would have explored the steeper byways in the town. Apart from driving round in the made-to-look- old little bus which took us on a ten mile tour of many of the filming sites of Last of the Summer Wine there wasn't much to do, although I imagine hikers would have a ball!

We learned of other claims to fame of Holmfirth. Did you know that at one time it was a busier film making place than Hollywood? According to wikipedia, during the early 1900s Holmfirth was well-known for film making; the West Yorkshire film industry, for a time, surpassed that of Hollywood in terms of productivity and originality. 

The originators of that film industry were the Bamforth family who went on to produce those saucy seaside postcards famous throughout England for many years. Now they are produced in Scarborough.

It's amazing that such a small place should have so many claims to fame. Some of these are more sinister. The Australians among you will remember the case of Peter Falconio who was presumed murdered (his body was never found) in the Northern Territory of Australia . He came from Hepworth, one of the nearby villages. Then there are the notorious 'Moors murderers' Myra Hindley and Ian Brady who buried some of their victims on the nearby Saddleworth moor.

This was a wonderful day trip which had everything: beautiful scenery; intriguing history; not bad weather; lots of laughs with reminiscences about the 'Last of the Summer Wine.' As to getting there under your own steam; the nearest large town is Huddersfield and buses run frequently to and from there.

Highly recommended: The tour by the bus company Summerwine Magic. Even if you know nothing about the series the drive round the beautiful countryside is worth it, and there are bound to be people on the bus who know the series and will get you laughing.

Kinema in the Woods, Woodhall Spa

We visited Kinema in the Woods with dad who knew plenty of history about the place. Nevertheless, I went searching online for more.

Yes, that's how it's spelt, Kinema with a 'K', and there is an Australian connection, namely a Captain Archbold Weigall who returned to the area after serving as governor of South Australia. He and lady Weigall saved the Spa Baths from being closed down, and in the same year (1922) commissioned Captain (later Major) C. C. Allport to convert the concert pavilion into the pavilion cinema.

Backtracking:

as the name indicates, Woodhall Spa was a spa.  John Parkinson's dream was to open a coal mine, plant a forest and build a new town. In 1821 he found Spa water instead, and by a quirk of fate it was this that was to prove his most lasting legacy.

From the start, the architect commissioned to create the Spa, Richard Adolphus Came, had a vision of his own - an elegant and spacious community in a woodland setting, with broad tree-lined avenues and large residential plots. This is still percieved as one of Woodhall Spa's greatest assets - 'the space is the place' is an often quoted observation.

Tourist blurb:

Woodhall Spa is a beautiful inland resort with an Edwardian character, set amidst magnificent pine woods. Regarded as one of Lincolnshire's most attractive villages, Woodhall Spa is famous for its peaceful and relaxing atmosphere, and with many fine hotels and guest houses it is the perfect location for a short break or holiday. The village has a variety of attractions including two top class golf courses, the unique 'Kinema in the Woods', Cottage Museum, Jubilee Park outdoor heated swimming pool and several aviation heritage sites associated with 617 Squadron (the Dambusters).

In case you are wondering, the original spa baths are no more, being described as semi derelict in one online information page. The Jubilee Park baths are open only between mid May and mid September.


Info via wikipedia:

the Kinema in the Woods dates from 1922, and it is the only fully-functioning cinema in the UK to employ back projection.[1][2] (Dad told us this too.) The Pavilion Cinema (as it was then known) was only the 68th cinema to be opened in Britain - and the unique rear projection system is still used today in the original screen (screen 1).

The Kinema was also unusual, if not unique, in having deck chairs for its most expensive seats at the front.  There was often a high class clientele of customers, even including Royalty, who were staying with the Weigalls at Petwood (now a nearby hotel.) On one occasion, Princess Marie Louise, granddaughter of Queen Victoria, was heard to request a seat where she would not be kicked!

It was christened 'flicks in the sticks' by the hundreds of servicemen who crowded into it during the second world War.

The Kinema is open 7 days a week, all year round, except Christmas Day. Evening shows run every night, with matinée shows at weekends and during school holidays. Resident organist Alan Underwood performs in the intervals of the film showing in the main screen (screen 1) every Saturday night.

Alan was the main source of entertainment for us the day we went, rising up out of the pit and bobbing about while he played old show tunes on the Compton Kinestra Organ, taking the oldies in the audience down Memory Lane.

We were with a group from the Women's Institute. We sat in front of them, Dad singing at the top of his voice (still strong in spite of his years) and beating time on  the seat in front. He had a ball and we enjoyed his enjoyment.

Part of the deal was afternoon tea at Petwood hotel.

The hotel is mock tudor and judging by the scones, they were too. By that I mean they were vintage, hard and straight out of cold storage. What were they thinking? This was the WI for goodness sake! There was a collective pursing of lips when they made an appearance. You could have cut the air with a knife, and it would have been a darn sight easier than cutting those scones. To add insult to injury they did not provide enough tea,  not even  hot water to add to it until asked. Not happy Jan!

But it was not enough to mar a beautiful warm day, the only day so far when I've been able to wear a dress, and the gorgeous surroundings.





weather vane honouring RAF bombers