An embarrassing condition!

During our South Wales weekend we visited the lovely seaside village of Mumbles near Swansea. Whilst walking with our friends along the promenade I came upon a small sailing dingy with a very unusual name. I would love to know the story behind the naming of this craft! Something to do with sand, salt or dare I say it, a case of crabs perhaps!

I couldn't resist taking this photo!

A "Lush" of Lifeguards?

We have just been visiting South Wales (more in another blog) seeing old friends and whilst walking along the beach at Langland I took this picture of a group of young lifeguards.

Lifeguards on Langland Bay beach.

Following on from my search for the perfect collective noun for a group of blondes,I wandered what a group of lifeguards would be called. My friend's teenage daughter, finding the group of men very attractive and "hunky" came up with the term "Lush" which in modern young English speak I am reliably informed means good looking and desireable. So a group of young lifeguards is henceforth known as a Lush of Lifeguards! Unless, you blog reader can come up with anything better.

Test cricket at Lords

Queuing to get into the ground. The match was a sell out as always.

As previously mentioned I went on my annual visit to Lords cricket ground to watch the first days play of the Test match between England and Australia. To the uninitiated a Test Match is an international cricket match which lasts five days. The Test series of matches (usually five or sometimes six matches) between England and Australia are collectively known as "The Ashes" and are passionately fought for.

The term "Ashes" was first used after England lost to Australia - for the first time on home soil - at The Oval (another London cricket ground) on 29th August 1882. A day later, the Sporting Times carried a mock obituary to English cricket which concluded that: "The body will be cremated and the ashes taken to Australia".

The concept caught the imagination of the sporting public. A few weeks later, an English team, captained by Ivo Bligh [later Lord Darnley], set off to tour Australia, with Bligh vowing to return with "the ashes"; his Australian counterpart, E. Murdock, similarly vowed to defend them. During that tour a small terrecotta urn was presented to the England captain by a group of Melbourne women. The contents of the urn are reputed to be the ashes of an item of cricket equipment, possibly a bail, ball or stump. Whichever side holds the Ashes, the urn normally remains in the Museum at Lords.

The packed stands eagerly await proceedings.

Lord's in my opinion is a truly magical place and has long been seen as the 'Home of Cricket' and the game's spiritual 'headquarters'. Cricket has been played here since 1814. But its importance is not merely historical. In practice it remains, to this day, perhaps the most important single place in world cricket. Lord's is the setting for some of the best cricket in the world. It hosts npower Test matches and NatWest-sponsored one-day internationals plus most of Middlesex's home games, some historic fixtures (such as Oxford v Cambridge universities) and the village and club finals.

The hallowed earth that is Lords cricket ground.

The slip fielders hoping for a catch.

This is the media centre at Lords-known as "the Cherie" a reference to Cherie Blair's unflattering smile! Very unfair.....not!

The imposing pavillion.

Andrew Strauss celebrates his century.

The postscript to this post is that England defeated Australia in this Test to take a 1-0 lead in the Ashes series. It was the first time that England had beaten Australia at Lords since 1934!

Blondes and more blondes.

I just had to share these photos with you. At my recent visit to the first test at Lords we were wandering around during the teatime interval and came across these lovely ladies at the NPower tent. I have never seen so many blondes in the same place at the same time. I have to admit that they did turn my head.

Afterwards we were trying to come up with a suitable collective noun for a group of blondes. The best we could come up with was a 'peroxide of blondes'. Has anyone got a better description?

Value for money?

Yesterday I went to Lords cricket ground in London to watch the Test match between England and Australia (more about that in a later missive). However two instances brought it home to me how much hotels and bars in London take advantage of their customers.

Whilst waiting to meet my fellow cricket pals and catch the train into London I decided to treat myself to breakfast at one of our local cafes. Being brave and putting any health concerns on hold I ordered the full English breakfast. This consisted of two rashers of bacon, two sausages, baked beans, fried egg, fried bread, coffee and toast. Fantastic, and all for less than £5.00. Excellent value for money I thought and very tasty!

My hearty English breakfast

Compare this to my experience at lunchtime in London in a very mediocre bar in a large hotel close to Lords cricket ground. Ordering just an ordinary (and foul tasting) beer together with a gin and tonic, I was astounded to be charged £12.15! I appreciate that London is more expensive than elsewhere but I think that this is an absolute rip off. What do you think?

I nearly fell off my bar stool whenI got this bill for just two drinks.

Walking the Wey.

Newark Lock on the canal.

Carrying on my theme of walking the locality and seeing things that you would not normally see, I went on a walk through the villages of Ripley and Pyrford taking in part of the Wey navigation canal on the way. The navigation has much history being officially opened in 1653. For nearly 200 years the Wey Navigation route linked the area with London, until it was superseded by the railway. The canal by providing almost 20 miles (32 kilometres) of navigable water connecting the county with London, ensured that Surrey became one of the wealthiest and most influential areas in Britain. A legacy of the navigation canal are the towpaths that were built for the horses, carters, and bow-haulers that used to work the river and it was along these that I walked early one morning.
Narrow boats moored along the canal bank.

Even at an early hour there was activity on the waterway. I encounted several joggers, various dog walkers and the odd angler. Along this stretch of the canal many narrowboats are moored and as I walked several passed me going up and down stream. This part of the canal system is owned and maintained by The National Trust and everything is kept in fantastic order for the enjoyment of everyone who cares to walk the towpath.
The 'Anchor' pub at Pyrford lock.

Alongside the Wey Navigation Canal set amongst water meadows are the remains of Newark Priory. The priory was founded in the early 12th century by Augustinian Canons, or ‘Black Canons’ with descriptive reference to the black hooded cloaks and cassocks they wore. The Priory in its heyday was a significant complex of buildings surrounding an important church. The Black Canons went on to found the St Thomas’ and St Bartholomews’ hospitals in London.
The ruins of Newark Priory

The priory, which at its peak was home to a community of 200, fell into ruins after it was sacked on the orders of Henry VIII at the Dissolution, and having been systematically stripped for building materials over the ensuing centuries all that now remains is part of the great church.

Just up a hill from the priory is the delightful 12th century Church of St. Nicholas with its tranquil interior and original red ochre frescoes. Built of ‘puddingstone’ and dressed with ‘clunch’ the church’s wall paintings depict scenes from the flagellation and the Passion c.1200. The Church of St.Nicholas was built around 1140 AD and is a fine example of a complete Norman church. Just out of interest the name Pyrford originates from the ancient Saxon language ‘pyrianforde’ meaning a ford by a pear tree or orchard. On a personal level this is the church where I got married!
The 12th century church of St. Nicholas at Pyrford.

An English scene - cricket on Ripley village green.

Woods, fields, Stanley and Elvis

Last Sunday the weather was glorious so i decided to take myself off for a walk in the nearby village of Pirbright. I had found details of the walk on a website somewhere and had long wanted to try it out. I parked up by the beautiful village green and set off towards the parish church.

I love churchyards as any readers of my Blog would probably have gathered! I love the history and stories associated with the headstones. Pirbright churchyard did not disappoint. There, in the shade of some trees was a large and magnificent headstone belonging to none other than Henry Morton Stanley. Who? you may ask.

Well, as every British man or woman of a certain age will tell you Stanley was quite an interesting character. He
was born John Rowlands on 28 January 1841 in Denbigh, Wales. His parents were not married, and he was brought up in a workhouse. In 1859, he left for New Orleans. There he was befriended by a merchant, Henry Stanley, whose name he took. Stanley went on to serve on both sides in the American Civil War and then worked as a sailor and journalist. In 1867 Stanley became special correspondent for the New York Herald.

Two years later he was commissioned by the paper to go to Africa and search for Scottish missionary and explorer David Livingstone, of whom little had been heard since 1866 when he had set off to search for the source of the Nile. Stanley reached Zanzibar in January 1871 and proceeded to Lake Tanganyika, Livingstone's last known location. There in November 1871 he found the sick explorer, greeting him with the famous words 'Dr Livingstone, I presume?' Stanley's reports on his expedition made him a household name.

When Livingstone died in 1873, Stanley resolved to continue his exploration of the region, funded by the Herald and a British newspaper. He explored vast areas of central Africa, and travelled down the length of the Lualaba and Congo Rivers, reaching the Atlantic in August 1877, after an epic journey.Failing to gain British support for his plans to develop the Congo region, Stanley found more success with King Leopold II of Belgium, who was eager to tap Africa's wealth. In 1879, with Leopold's support, Stanley returned to Africa where he worked to open the lower Congo to commerce by the construction of roads. Competition with French interests in the region helped bring about the Berlin Conference (1884-5) in which European powers sorted out their competing colonial claims in Africa.

Stanley's efforts paved the way for the creation of the Congo Free State, privately owned by Leopold.In 1890, now back in Europe, Stanley married and then began a worldwide lecture tour. He became MP for Lambeth in south London, serving from 1895 to 1900. He was knighted in 1899. He died in London on 10 May 1904 and was buried here in the churchyard at Pirbright where he had his home.

I carried on with my walk following the signpost for public footpaths, clambering over wooden stiles and through kissing gates, going over fallow fields, over farm land, paddocks and into dark woods. A really varied landscape over only a few miles.
A small hillock on the edge of a meadow.

One of the many stiles. This one leading into dense woodland.

One of the many beautiful houses encounted during my walk.

Nearing the end of my walk i passed over Pirbright Common and found myself walking along a narrow track past some old nurseries. I turned a corner and had the fright of my life. There leaning against a wooden gate was a very realistic looking scarecrow dressed up as Elvis Presley. I don't know if it scared the birds, but it sure scared the hell out of me!

Elvis is alive and well and living in Surrey.

Lest we forget....Part Two

Brookwood Military cemetery is one of my favourite places and i made another visit there last weekend.I particularly wanted to spend more time wandering around the American and British Commonwealth sections which i had neglected to do on a previous visit.

The American cemetery is set amongst beautiful woodland.

The American Cemetery is the only American Military Cemetery of World War 1 in the British Isles. 468 war dead of the USA rest here. Most of those buried died in Great Britain or it's surrounding waters. They include victims of the SS Tuscania which was sunk by a German submarine on February 5th 1918 off the west coast of Scotland. Additionally, the names of 563 Americans who gave their lives in the service of their country and whose graves are at sea are inscribed on the walls of the chapel. Most served with the United States Navy or United States Coastguard including 114 from the US coastguard cutter TAMPA which was also sunk by a German submarine in the Bristol Channel on September 26th 1918.

The construction and care of this 4.5 acre site is the responsibility of the American Battle Monuments Commission, an agency of the United States government. The adjacent World War 1 and World War 2 cemeteries and monuments were developed and are maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.The gravestones of Privates Penberthy and Reed.

I always find walking among the gravestones quite poignant. Looking at the inscriptions i wander who was Private Arthur E Penberthy of Illinois or Private Walter D Reed of West Virginia? What are their stories. What did their families go through when the learnt of their son's or brother's death in a war thousands of miles away in a foreign land?

A distant view to the American Military Memorial Chapel.

I walked further until i was in the Commonwealth part of Brookwood Military Cemetery. Here there are graves of hundreds of British, Canadian, South African and Indian soldiers from both world wars. This section i find most moving, not only because of the beautifully kept and verdant grounds, but because reading the incriptions of the dead servicemen reminds me how young these brave men were. Most were only in their early or mid teens.

Along each row are small flowering plants and shrubs.

Row upon row of war graves.

In the British cemetary it really re-inforces how young these men were and what responsibilities they had on their young shoulders. Just two examples i noted from the inscriptions. The first read "Sergeant G. F. Barker-Benfield, Pilot, Royal Air Force. Died September 1941. Aged 19".
The second read "Sergeant R. C. Livings, Wireless operator/Air gunner, Royal Air Force. Died May 1941. Aged 18. These were just two of hundreds buried here. Again, what are their stories? It made me shudder to think that two of my children are these ages. All they appear worry about is their Facebook page, computer games, clothes, and having a good time. Just two generations ago boys of their age were fighting for their lives on a daily basis. How or indeed would teenagers cope if called upon to fight for their country?

The Free French Forces cemetery.

Spring is here!

I've never been much of a gardener. Don't get me wrong, i love my garden, but i was never one to prune and pot and weed. My idea of gardening was to mow the lawn and occasionally cut the edges!
However nature has been calling me recently (is it an age thing?) and i have begun to notice the shrubs dotted around my garden and in particular the sheer beauty of the individual buds and blossoms that have appeared over the last couple of weeks.

I have had only a modicum of interest before, but now look in wonderment at the intricate designs, colours and perfections of the flowers and petals of the shrubs dotted around my garden. Isn't nature wonderful!

I am posting a few images to share with you. I admit that i don't know the names of the shrubs, but hope that i can convey the splendour and magnificence of nature that we see, but sometimes fail to notice every day.

On my doorstep

Low bridge and lock gate

Within a four to five minute walk away from where i live is the Basingstoke Canal. I use the canal for convenience for walking to the nearby village of St. Johns or the much longer walk into Woking if i don't want the hassle or expense of parking the car. Like most locals i tend to take the canal for granted. However the other day i went out for another of my walks and this time took my camera with me. This gave me a chance to take my time, take a step back and look at the canal from a totally different perspective.
A view along the tow path

I hadn't appreciated the beauty and living landscape that was literally on my doorstep. The day was damp, slightly misty and still. There was hardly anyone around apart from the odd jogger. I just wandered along taking the odd photograph of anything that interested me.
Interesting shapes and contrasts

Reflections in the water

Spring daffodils on the canal bank

When i got home and uploaded the photographs i had taken and had a really good look at them i realised how lucky i was to live close by and have access to such a beautiful environment the beauty of which up to now had generally passed me by. I hope the scenes that i have posted convey just how beautiful this man made stretch of water is.
An unusual angle!

An lovely plaque attached to one of the bridges

Another of the many lock gates along the canal