Category Archives: around home

around home, history, UK, vehicles

Beaulieu Museums

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Happily for me, the National Motor Museum is a short way down the road from home in the New Forest at Beaulieu.  With rain on the forecast, I set aside the afternoon to go & check it out.  It turns out that there is not just a large car museum to look at.  But that didn’t stop me spending most of my time in there.  There’s many notable cars to gaze at, including quite a few that have set land speed records at various times – Sunbeam & Bluebird come to mind.  Slightly less speedy cars, but more recognisable these days, include Mr Bean’s Mini, Arthur Weasley’s flying Ford Anglia & the Trotters’ van.

There are strange looking contraptions from the late 1800s, cars that really are just carriages without horse & an engine bunged in the bottom somewhere, a ‘Blower’ Bentley (that’s for you Geoff), all manner of Rolls Royces & so on.

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

The museum building must be going on forty years now – strangely it has a monorail running through the top of it. Said monorail looks like it was once transport for henchman in a Roger Moore Bond flick. Outside of the main building there’s a small Bond car exhibit – most interesting there is the submarine Lotus Espirit from The Spy Who Loved Me. Also of note is that AMC that performed the spiral jump in The Man with the Golden Gun. Apparently there’s a much bigger display of Bond cars planned. I’ll have to come back & make use of my free entry for a year. Nearby is the World of Top Gear & the Enormodrome filled with cars from various challenges that have featured on the show. But that deserves another photo post for those who may actually be able to identify them.

Further through the extensive grounds & Victorian gardens is a small exhibit detailing the role Beaulieu Estate played in housing SOE operatives during WWII. Being on the south coast of the country, this whole area has a lot of war history – more of which I’m sure I’ll discover in the months to come. Just past this is Palace House which is the ancestral house of the Lords of the Estate & still the home of Lord & Lady Montagu. Parts of it were originally the gatehouse of the nearby abbey, but it was extended in the nineteenth century. A small part of it is open to visitors & mostly filled with portraits. All the captions were written in the first person by the current lord of the estate – they were much more personal & easier to read.

Just around the corner are the remains of the Cistercian Beaulieu Abbey that didn’t survive the Dissolution after three hundred years of existence. The refectory still serves as the parish church of Beaulieu; there’s a big exhibit on the life of the monks, but by then it was getting dark & damper & I’d had enough of looking at old things & wandered back out through the grounds.

around home, UK

Settling In

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Somehow, I’ve found myself back doing twelve-hour shifts, two days, two nights & four days off. At least this time, it’s only for a couple of weeks just to get familiar with the finishing plant. Alas, there was no fifty percent pay increase this time. My first week at work was spent mostly meeting all sorts of people around the company & learning what they do, as well as reading a lot & trying to get my head around the polymerisation process of making SBR (styrene-butadiene rubber).

I’ve settled into a nice big room (lodging locally) with plenty of storage for bikes, skis & other necessary items. It’s an arduous two-minute drive to work (I will bike when I finish shift work & get organised) & the New Forest is a few hundred metres away in the other direction. I’m also interested to find the history of the kiln of Lime Kiln Lane, off which my street runs. My first weekend here I went for a little explore on my bike in the forest. With a stack of trails off the net on my GPS I just headed out to see what I might find. Pleasantly, I bumped into some local riders & tagged along with them. So I got to find some of the better trails (it’s all pretty flat, but more than enough to amuse me mid-week), avoid the steers, ponies, donkeys & the trained falcons. Somehow my intended two hour explore ended up well over fifty kilometres, four hours & all the way to Brockenhurst & Lyndhurst.

That afternoon I popped down to Hythe to take the little ferry across to Southampton to have a look around – rather, to finally get a decent phone. The ferry takes about fifteen minutes – which is almost as long as it would take to walk the length of the pier (one of the ten longest in the country). But it works out well that there is the oldest pier railway in the world to get you to the end. It is a rather rickety ride down the pier in cute little carriages pulled by a tiny little electric engine. The ferry ride itself is also interesting as Southampton is a big port & there are usually cruiseliners & other big ships around.

I really didn’t take many photos – there is pier there somewhere

The local MTB club had their fortnightly ride the day after, & feeling a little tired I dragged myself off north of Ringwood to Braemore. It was a very pleasant drive through the countryside, crossing into Wiltshire & then back into Hampshire. It turned out to be a big group – about forty riders – that split into four groups to keep things moving on. Once again, it was a flat ride & we managed about thirty kilometres of bridleways & the odd connecting road. Although it has still been quite the mild & dry autumn, the ride was an exercise in getting covered in mud. The worse part was the half a mile or so of road outside a pig farm. The road was just one ordeal of riding through sloppy shitty mud. That caused all sorts of chain-suck problems for me for the next few miles, but they eventually disappeared. All in all a nice little ride to get out & meet some locals.

My return appointment to get the results of my MRI was last Tuesday, so I spent the day up in London. As expected, the front of the capsule in my shoulder is torn. I was given the choice of surgery or not; it could well be OK if I sat still for the rest of my life. But the desire to go riding, skiing or do other interesting things isn’t likely to abate – so I chose the surgery option. Now I just have to see the shoulder specialist & then wait for the operation. So that could be a good three to six months away – which makes it a little hard to plan trips as I would be wingless for at least two weeks afterwards.

around home, friends, London, UK

Last London day & the move south

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With the possibility of a brief return to my previous typical London day, on Friday I went in to London to potter around one last time before moving down south. The heavy rain seemed to miss the city centre completely & carrying a raincoat around all day seemed to be adequate to ward off any precipitation whatsoever. A bit early for my appointment in Putney, I strolled around Trafalgar Square, up Haymarket & then down Waterloo Place (here I found where Sir Keith Park’s statue had been relocated), St James Park, Admiralty Arch & then back along to Embankment & the rickety District Line. Further west the Thames was looking good with a few interesting boats on it & thousands of golden leaves lining it. My shoulder is immeasurably better after a quick adjustment – now just have to see what the specialist thinks next week.

Less than three-hundred days until the next Olympics

Back in the city, I (shock horror) went clothes shopping, for the second time that week, on Oxford Street. It was crazy busy, which was a good incentive to make quick decisions & then scarper. I spent a bit of time recovering by people-watching & reading more of my book. More aimless wandering took me under Marble Arch to Hyde Park, further around the West End & then north all the way to Regent’s Park to kick leaves around. More reading until it got too dark & then back on the tube to head up to West Hampstead to meet Micah, a uni classmate, for a couple of pints. Great to hear how he & Hayley are doing – not to mention the places they have been around Europe recently.

Much more catching-up to be done when I met, Te Puke & school mate, Levi in Covent Garden. As I knew it would be my last chance to get something resembling poutine for a while, we headed for the Maple Leaf. Disappointed that I couldn’t have a drop of Rickard’s Red, I was appeased by the poutine (although some proper cheese curd wouldn’t have gone amiss), the wings, ribs & proper onion rings. More good stories, Marki turned up & the night progressed to some other bar near Tottenham Court Road tube before I had one last walk back to Charing Cross & just managed to grab the second-to-last train of the night home (the last one is never much fun as the proportion of intoxicated passengers is quite high).

Saturday was supposed to be set aside for packing, but between my book, the Four-Nations rugby league test & the new season of Chuck it was just as well that it didn’t take as long as I expected. Trish went to great effort for a farewell dinner, Ray & Jill joined us & said their farewells. More goodbyes as I left Sunday morning, yet another home to leave behind & miss. The day cleared nicely as I neared my new home, things looked good & I was pleased. More mundaneness of moving – unpacking (but I do have my room just so) & that first big grocery shop. My first day at work today was pleasantly short to ease me back into it & I met an awful lot of people of course (I shouldn’t go too wrong if I’m stuck for a name just going for John – it felt like I met plenty). Now to sort some lights & mudguards for my bike so I ride the short distance & the car can stay put.

around home, history, UK

Chislehurst Caves

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They’re not actually caves, but old chalk mines underneath the nearby suburb of Chislehurst. We’d been meaning to visit for a while, as I’m leaving to go south for work this weekend I was pleased when Trish reminded me that we hadn’t been yet. I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting, perhaps just a few big caves with stalactites & stalagmites. But it was a huge network, 22 miles worth, of mostly-short interconnected tunnels – pretty low & skinny in places – with a very interesting history. The network was divided in to three sections – Druid, Roman & Saxon – named after those that had allegedly dug each section.

As it was mid-week, our guided tour was only four strong. Our knowledgeable guide, with a wonderfully warped sense of humour, gave us a couple of hurricane lamps & off we went descending to about 40 metres below the surface. The most famous part of the caves’ history is its use as a WWII air-raid shelter for local families. There were up to 15,000 sleeping in triple-bunks; some families had to stay there for years as their houses had been destroyed. There were facilities (kitchens & bathrooms) on the surface. Underground there is a still consecrated chapel (just one birth & christening underground – the unfortunately named Cavena) & as well as the remains of the hospital. The network of tunnels is incredibly stable & there were no collapses. It was incredible wandering around thinking of the thousands trying to get a good night’s sleep in such cramped & damp conditions.

It was strange wandering around a tourist attraction that had absolutely no electric lighting, but our guide knew his way & soon had us completely disoriented by all the tiny side tunnels that interconnected. We saw a few altars that were allegedly used by the Druids for animal sacrifice & then we spent a fair amount of time by one discussing how often there might have been human sacrifices there. It was at this time that we were herded in to a small alcove, the guide took our lamps & we closed our eyes as he wandered off down the tunnel counting down from ten. The echo in the place was just fantastic, it went on & on (on & on, on & on, on & on…). When the counting was over, we opened our eyes & the darkness was incredible. I kept waiting for my eyes to adjust, but there was no hope of that with absolutely no light around. In the meantime, our guide had given an almighty whack to an old steel water tank – if the speech echo was loud & prolonged, this was another level completely. We were pleased to get our lamps back.

Other interesting parts of note included the old ammunition store used during the first war – storage of munitions from nearby Woolwich Arsenal, it took them two years to empty after armistice. Close to this was a small concrete stage that was used for what was literally an underground music venue. Some quite big names played here in their early days – David Bowie, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, The Kinks, The Rolling Stones & Jimi Hendrix (before he was ‘Hendrix’). From the ’50s on there was also a challenge to sleep overnight alone next to a small pool (it was mostly filled in to stop sheltering kids falling in during the war) that was supposed to be haunted. Of the 270-odd that tried, only one guy managed it. In the ’80s two employees of the Caves tried to do so, separated by a couple of caverns – they didn’t make it through the night. One guy screamed & the other found him unconscious on his bed – he was carted off to Queen Mary’s Hospital & had a badly dislocated right shoulder. I thought I’d end with a personal link. Sorry for lack of pictures, but there wasn’t much opportunity.