I knew I hadn't taken photos at TASIS, but I had forgotten I had taken photos from the plane. I saw them when I looked for photos for today. So here's one that should have been included in the post of yesterday's events. It is of London and includes the London Eye, the Houses of Parliament, and Westminster Abbey.
At breakfast Brother told me about the room he and Niece shared at the hotel. Niece saw one bedbug. She had lived through a bedbug problem in an apartment and didn't want to live through another. Those pests are quite hard to eliminate. Brother said that if she had seen a second bedbug he would have woken me up and we would have fled to a Holiday Inn near the airport (not far away). One reason why they didn't was it was already after midnight. Even with one bedbug they put their luggage in the car.
Though Brother lived in Chertsey for three years he never checked out Chertsey Abbey. I was with his wife and daughters when they did it 20 years ago. So this morning we went to Abbey Park.
The Abbey was built in the 800s and was a thriving place for a few centuries. It even survived an attack or two by Vikings (the Abbey survived, the monks didn't). But in the early 1500s Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries. This particular Abbey was torn down and the rubble used to build other structures. About all that's left is part of a stone wall. And a map showing the Abbey stood over there where those houses are now.
So Niece followed a public path into a farm (yeah, the path winds between the house and the barn). Soon a man, who I guess was in his late 70s, came out to talk. Brother and I joined them and were introduced to Robin. He was quite a character and we ended up talking with him for about an hour. He talked about the history of the abbey, that the monks were a bit too rowdy and the paths to the nun's residences were a bit too well trod. He talked about his time in America – for several years he lived each spring and fall on Key West. He opened the barn to show us his big Chevy Suburban and the vintage motorcycle he is rebuilding (with another 10 bikes under tarps). He talked about his work with a raptor recovery and breeding program. I'm sure there were several other topics in there as well.
We parked the car near the house where Brother and family used to live and walked up the hill to it. This allowed us to stop and look it over. The big change was a wood fence above the brick wall which completely hid the first floor and much of the second from the street.
We drove on to Brighton. After finding a place to park we looked for lunch. The first pub turned us down. It was nearly 2:00, when they closed for the afternoon. The pub next door did provide a meal, though we were the only customers there.
On to the Royal Pavilion. We got an audio tour – one of those handheld devices that gives a 3 minute spiel in the major rooms. The place was built in the early 1800s for George, the Crown Prince, as his pleasure palace. The outside architecture has many Indian influences, the inside is mostly Chinese. The Prince would hold lavish dinner parties with up to 100 different dishes in a room where the chandelier hung from a dragon. Mostly the prince ran up debts. He became George IV in 1820 and died ten years later from obesity and gout.
William IV used the place a few times in his seven years as king. Victoria didn't think the place was suitable for her growing family. She removed the furnishings and sold the place to the city of Brighton. The current royal family has returned some of the furnishings on permanent loan. Because of such agreements we couldn't photograph the interior.
Here's the exterior.
When the tour was over rain was falling, the kind that settles in for a while. And our umbrellas were back in the car. Even so, we walked the few blocks to the coast. Our decision to not go out on the Brighton Pier was an easy one.
Through the course of the trip Niece has become much more interested in our family history. As we talked about our family roots in Devon (this time Dad's side of the family) she liked the idea of visiting the Devon Archives to do a bit of research. This was an idea she resisted when we planned the trip. So during our afternoon ice cream and coffee I check on archive opening hours. The would next be open on Tuesday – and we would be leaving Devon Monday morning.
I hadn't found a hotel in Brighton both with a price we could afford and with a vacancy. So I had chosen one a half hour to the west in Worthing. It turned out to be a lovely Bed and Breakfast place, much better than where we stayed the night before. It was also right on the coast. We could see a line of wind turbines, which we were later told were 16 kilometers from shore.
Niece said she wasn't hungry for supper, so Brother and I walked a few blocks – in the wind – to a fish and chips restaurant. That's where I found what whitebait is. I didn't want a full meal and this was the starter that looked like fish but wasn't shrimp or calamari. Whitebait are tiny fish, so small it doesn't make sense to skin or behead them. The whole fish is dipped in batter and fried. Brother said he'd be impressed if I ate the entire serving. I made it about halfway through. I then concentrated on my cole slaw and ate a few bites of Brother's cod.
We walked back to the hotel. This time there was rain with the wind. I held tight to my umbrella.
No comments:
Post a Comment