We have been blessed with great weather again, so out we roll the tents and pegs for a camping weekend in Wiltshire with M-8 (whom recently became my Squeeze), Mr & Mrs Deno, a sparkly hired grown-ups car called The Annihilator.Avebury Stone Circle
After deciphering out of the infamous ‘Magic Roundabout’ in Swindon (there’s nothing magical about it, other than being bloody confusing), we headed in a beeline towards the mystical and sheepish Avebury for the Stone Circle and some education of how people lived before the time of calendars, tiled roves, television and Christianity. (Quite happily, probably).
White Horse at Cherhill
The large white figure glistened in the hills from a distance, and seem to run along with us as we roamed the highway. The soil in the area is actually chalk, and way back around 1000 BC the practice of leucippotomy ie. The art of carving chalk horse figures started in Southern England. There are quite a few white horses in this area, and this one is in Cherhill was first carved in the 18th century and was last restored in 2002.
We parked The Annihilator on the road and walked up the hill towards the chalk figure and a monument. There’s lots of pink beetles flying around which caught a lot of my attention. It wasn’t until a young boy from Manchester that started picking on a dried pile of bird droppings that I discovered that the diet of birds here contained pretty much entirely of these little beetles. Lovely.
Pub lunch at the White Horse Inn
When you live in London you tend to forget that people stop eating lunch and only drink beer after 2pm, but we managed to squeeze in some food at the White Horse Inn just outside of Calne. So I am no longer a Steak & Kidney pie in Suet patry virgin.
But I might have to abstain now.
Lacock
Lacock is a quiet and beautifully preserved little village near Calne, the entire village is owned by the National Trust. I refrained from
touching anything because I know I will break stuff, including the precarious bench a whole bunch of tourists are sitting on. We headed into Lacock Abbey for a poke around. This is in fact reportedly the location where the first film negative was developed by William Tolbot in 1835 by photographing this very window. But most visitors are actually more interested in the abbey as the set for Harry Potter.Calne in the Evening
After settling into the campsite, the boys were hankering to watch the Portugal vs Turkey game of the Euro Cup, so we went into a quiet little pub in Calne. The place looked pretty conservative and red neck, but I was having a good time over fish’n’chips until some racist dickhead made some really quite offensive remarks to me on my way to the bathroom. This later developed into what I recall as an episode of me quite bravely and politely starring a big bloke down with a one liner and without cracking my temper. Well done WaWa, but its time to leave before more of them arrive to beat us into pulp.
Castle Combe
Castle Combe has an air of Miss Marple cuteness and intrigue. The golden glow of the stone houses that line the curvy streets surround a peaceful village life away from the hustle and bustle, but this is the best setting as a façade for a well planned criminal activity – how could anyone here be cunning enough to be a murderer? And how would such a innocent and pretty little town hide any brimming secrets? For example, I can totally see the owner of the café which serves the best espresso and banana cake in Wiltshire motivated by the candid discovery of a fortune buried under the large well in the middle of the small town centre.
Dyrham Park
I am a huge Merchant & Ivory fan so it was such a delight to find out that Dyrham Park is where Remains of The Day was filmed. (is it just me or am I thinking I am just going from one film set to the next??) Set in an elegantly landscaped 300 acre area, it used to be a deer hunting park for the original owners (generations dated back to 17th century). There are still hundreds of deers living on the property, and it’s a real pleasure seeing them bounce in flocks from hill to hill in their light brown dotted coats.
The house itself reminded me of the continental European palaces, huge sunny rooms decorated in decadent interiors, art, and memorabilia’s from centuries of travels and socialising with other members of the upper class. Its full of random stair cases and spaces, complete with its own trompe l'oeila and a dumb waiter's room. Of course there is the intrigue of the complicated relationship between the upper class aristocrats that enjoys the luxuries and the working class male and female servants that clean up after them – but only the fake marble walls will know. What is left of the ‘downstairs’ to remind us of their lives is a line of bells that used to ring when they are called to duty, an extremely well equipped kitchen that can support a culinary team of 40+, a butcher the size of a double bedroom, and the ‘rent room’ – a huge space with a rim of seats organized for leasees of the surrounding farmlands to sit and wait while they pay rent to the estate’s owner. That’s English class, economy and power in a nutshell for you.
This is the scenery from the nice walk we did around the estate before we headed home on the train from Swindon, though not before we were caught by some overtly friendly and over-bored locals for a good old chat about Helen Clark and the weather.
No comments:
Post a Comment