| Madam Zebra |
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April 1988
Spring in Europe & Autumn in Australia Friday 1st April A late start in collecting our car and delays in driving through London, particularly near Marble Arch due to a procession of some kind, however we finally made it to the M11. Very glad we didn't leave yesterday as the motorway was bumper to bumper in all THREE lanes from Junction 5 to Junction 12 - 20 MILES!!!! Gorgeous sunny day with green countryside and little English villages dotted here and there. Came off the M11 at Junction 9 intending to follow A1303 to Cambridge. Couldn't resist driving off the main road into a small village called Hixton. The 'Red Lion' was too irresistible (especially at 12.45pm) and we had a lovely lunch. Talked into trying Cherry Trifle for sweets which was absolutely delicious!!! No dinner for us tonight or we really will come back home looking like balloons. Cambridge is a delightful place - full of charm and character. People on the whole very friendly. Walking through the different colleges and down some of the smaller, cobblestoned streets took you back into a different world. Trinity St was particularly charming. Late afternoon walk finished off with evensong at Kings College and the Kings College Choir - beautiful voices even more so in real life. An uplifting experience transporting oneself towards God with such music. Saturday 2nd April Bad day today. Difficulty navigating through towns - no parking at the Royal Oxford and ended up staying in a place way out of town. Windsor Castle was the high point in the afternoon. Both feeling a little off colour and tired. Ely Cathedral very spectacular first thing in the morning. 'Ellensleigh Guest House' in Cambridge was very comfortable indeed last night. Sunday 3rd April Quick early morning walk around Oxford. Much older looking than Cambridge and "warmer" in some ways. Everything seems closer together. Magnificent Easter service at Christ Church Cathedral with choir. Travelled through quaint little villages along narrow hedged roads towards Salisbury Plains only to wonder when this enormous plain was ever going to appear. We soon realised that the unforested undulating hills were the plain. Followed the signs to Stonehenge and were quite taken aback by the sight as it loomed up unexpectedly in the middle of nowhere as we reached the top of a rise. Much more impressive than I had expected, particularly in contrast with the Easter tourists so insignificant in size by comparison. Salisbury Cathedral stood out well, especially the spire. Lots of lovely country around the town. The New Forest was rather fairylike in places. Must look great in summer when all the leaves are out on the trees. Pleasant dinner at the 'Wheatsheaf Inn', Lower Woodford. It was a gorgeous drive there on a warm night down lovely hedge-lined country roads in pleasant, hilly country that for the first time in England, felt like real countryside. Monday 4th April Left rather late from 'Hayburn Wyke Guest House' (enjoyed our stay and sorry we were not staying longer in Salisbury as there is quite a lot to see in this area). Counties we passed through en-route to Bovey Tracey were:
Wiltshire was beautiful and the countryside became better and better as we moved closer to Devon. Dorsetshire very much as Thomas Hardy had described this area in his novels. Ploughman's lunch was delicious (had 'real' Stilton cheese - yummy!!!!!) Also experienced cider for the first time at the old Somerset pub in Yeovil. At this stage, anxious to reach Willmead Farm. Much more old worldly than was shown on the postcard sent to us and extremely cosy and comfortable. We were given directions to walk to Moorhouse Farm for PROPER 'Cream Tea' (and not Devonshire Tea as we know it). The cream is fresh, clotted cream made on the farm as soon as it is taken from the cow. It was almost sticky in consistency. Walked the calories off, then drove across the Dartmoor Plains - incredible because it is so different to Devon yet so close. It was like a different planet to look at although with the wild ponies grazing and sitting next to the roadside, you soon realised where you were. This circuit was much longer than we expected and we almost thought we would have to forego dinner as our booking was for 7.30pm. Finally made it to 'The Cleave Inn', Lustleigh by 8.15pm to find our table still waiting and orders still being taken. Entree was sensational (snails - the best I've ever had) and pheasant for me was delicious. Tuesday 5th April Gorgeous day. A part of me wanted to sleep in and relax at 'Willmead Farm' with a couple of walks later in the day and another part of me wanted to explore Cornwall. The latter won. This idea turned out to be a long and fairly tiring day. Overall it wasn't as green as Devon although the coastline was impressive in parts. Houses much too puritanical and plain in Cornwall. Very few trees compared to Devon. Road from Plymouth to Bodmin was the most scenic. Lizard Point was quite interesting. Didn't go as far as Lands End. St. Ives is a picturesque little town surrounded by beaches and water. We heard Cornish spoken by three old ladies here. St. Ives would be crowded in summer I imagine. POSTCARD: CORNWALL – ‘Treen Cliff, near Porthcurno'
[Written 5th April] Whilst staying at Willmead Farm, which was absolutely idyllic and nicer than the brochure, we detoured for a trip to St. Ives and Lizard Point via Bodmin and Plymouth. Cornwall very different from Devon, especially in the west, where it is a windy, rocky heathland dotted with the ruins of old corn mills. Bodmin and Lostwithiel nearby are beautiful fairy story towns. Some old people in St. Ives, which we adored despite continuing queeziness (London water), still speaking in Old Cornish which is a fascinating language that is not supposed to exist. Everyone there under 5 ft it seemed, and tiny houses, many with cats sitting in the windows looking out. Saw a few Nannas and a couple of Billy Hughes types. Devon is just unbelievably beautiful - rolling green hills, a pleasant climate, what passes for bushland, and good air and water. Some very wild woodland and streams in both Devon and Cornwall. Dartmoor bleak but lovely. Cornish coastline magnificent rock formations and beaches, but water only just above freezing when we tried it. Wednesday 6th April Slept extremely well at Willmead Farm, so well that we only just woke up at 7.30am - the time we organised to go down for breakfast. Yesterday's drive through Cornwall really tired us out. Northern Devon to the Tarr Steps was magnificent with bush covered hills in areas in between. Exmoor was very bleak and grim (exaggerated possibly by dank mist rolling in from the sea). Picked up a little although still windy going down into 'Doone' country with high hedges surrounding wild, but pretty copses. The corner of Somerset down to Taunton, a lazy sunny land dominated by some imposing hill fortes and the green and yellow patchwork of the Quantock Hills. From Taunton to Cheddar was rather poor, marshy country rendered less attractive by some industrial development and bleak housing. Good points were some pretty canals, some apple orchards on higher ground and Glastonbury, once an island surrounded by lakes, fens and bogs. At Glastonbury we saw the ruins of the Abbey where legend has it, St. Joseph of Arimathea planted a thorn bush, a sprig of which still grows there, and placed the chalice bearing the "precious blood of Jesus" (the Holy Grail). Whatever the merits of the legend, the Abbey ruins are certainly very ancient and imposing and one can well believe that this was once Arthur's Isle of Avalon. Cheddar was another interesting township (similar in a small way to the geographical location of Walhalla in Victoria). Bought some local "scrumpy" (a yeasty cider) which we hadn't tried until now. Most pubs only have the clear cider on tap which is also great and extremely alcoholic with a very pronounced "applely" flavour. The gorge at Cheddar was so enormously high with a narrow road winding its way between the cliffs that you felt quite dwarfed by them. Our overnight stop at Bath was late and the 'Royal York' was awful. The first room they gave us was so dingy considering that it was costing us £63 for the night - nothing like the room advertised on their leaflet. A complaint from us had us moved two rooms along the corridor to one with a four-poster bed. Still not 3 or 4 star quality, especially after the beauty and cleanliness of Willmead Farm which was half the price! At least it was some improvement on the other room (212). Thursday 7th April No sleep whatsoever in our hotel room - too hot, too airless and very, very noisy (worse with windows open). C had a shave at 4am and we packed, paid, complained and left this awful hotel by 5am. So much for seeing Bath! Not much light for sightseeing at this hour so a stop with a half hour sleep helped kill the time so we could view the Cotswalds to some degree. Rather pretty stone cottages, less undulating land compared to Devon. At this stage, my favourite county in England is Devon with its forests and hills and thatched cottages with pastures so green and full of sheep and cows. Probably the most picturesque in England (so far anyway). WALES Somewhere between Bath and Stroud we began a dawn tour of a cold woodland country. This part of England has very pretty villages of stone cottages. Leaving Stroud and the Cotswalds we bypassed Gloucester and headed for Hereford - beautiful river but very poor town and very cold in the dawn hours. Skirting the middle Wye valley for a breakfast and laundry stop at Ross-On-Wye, we suddenly felt as though we had entered a different country. Here the first language appears to be Welsh and the average height of the townspeople about 5 foot. From Monmouth to Tintern Abbey the Wye descends into wild woodland, a meandering course beneath the towering hills. Tintern Abbey founded by Cistercian abbots under Walter de Clare in 1131 bathed in warm sunlight but with a cold breeze. Stopped near Chepstow for a walk in fairytale country high on cliffs above the Wye. Gnarled trees and ancient spruce reminded us both poignantly of the journeys of hobbits and dwarves in Tolkien's 'Lord Of The Rings'. From Chepstow (true Wales) we entered a warm, sunny, friendly country of well ordered countryside with forest crowned hills and cosy villages. A very warm day by the time we reached Usk, a beautiful kindly and ancient town on the river of the same name. Welsh spoken as the first language here but not in the pub. Towering Beacons of the Black Mountains on the north as we approach Crickhowell. Lovely hotel - 'Gliffaes' - at the end of a winding, forested hillside avenue beside the rushing, white flecked river Usk. Magnificent room (Number 6), glorious dinner, and fell asleep listening to the rushing river sounds below our window, left wide open to catch its music. Friday 8th April 'Gliffaes' is a very sociable and informal place - one of my favourite hotels. We also saw our first grey squirrel this morning. After a late breakfast, headed for Talgarth and photographed the Presbyterian Church where John Kettle started his ministry, although he finished it at the Baptist Church down the road. After getting lost in Brecon and noticing the very old iron-mongers shop in the middle of the town (where presumably Ephraim Jenkin worked?), headed for Garth. Between Upper Chapel and Garth, we crossed the cold high tableland of the Mynydd Eppynt, very like the Monaro. Found ourselves in the middle of an army firing range and a war game complete with machine gun crossfire, tanks, skirmishes and three helicopters hovering close to the ground - nearly died of fright. We lunched at Llwrtyd-Wells (smallest town in the UK), then headed up the Abergwesyn Valley for the most spectacular scenery encountered so far. A u-shaped glacial valley through which flows a clear, fast flowing mountain stream over white pebbles - fair tasting water after London. Through pine forests, then into lowland pastures of fog bound Dyfed, stopping at Tregaron, Lampeter (where beautiful Welsh is spoken), and Llandovery-On-The-Bran, and heading off to the Brecon Beacons for a strenuous damp climb up the side of Fan Fawr (2409 feet) and breathtaking views. Saturday 9th April Woke up at 'Gliffaes' to snow falling covering most of the high hills around for miles. Drove via picturesque Tretower beneath the Black Mountains to Talgarth, then up the Upper Wye Valley to Builth, Llandrindod and Rhayader for lunch in a very ancient pub. Welsh only spoken here then deathly silence when English party arrived. On to Devil's Bridge in fleeting sunshine - some beautiful forest here and one of Europe's longest waterfalls. Back into Powys for a drive along the Upper Severn to Caersws - a pretty rushing stream, densely wooded in places. On through rolling green hills in bright sunshine to the picturesque Dovey Valley and Machynlleth, a medieval town. Now in North Wales, we began a breathtaking drive through the valley above which looms the spectacular Cader Idris (2927 feet). The second most spectacular town in North Wales after Caernarfon is probably Dolgellau - a thriving medieval Welsh village built entirely from the dark, local stone. Following the Wnion westward we came at last to the wide sandy inlet known as The Bar and the pretty, sleepy resort of Barmouth overlooking Cardigan Bay swathed in a hazy sheen of welcoming golden sunlight. On north past the craggy towers of Harlech Castle and up a winding country road to our hotel at Talsarnau, with wonderful views out to sea from hotel window. Incredibe coincidence that the name of our room was 'Cromwell' and Valentine Disbrowe was executed in the courtyard below our window!!! POSTCARD: TALSARNAU – ‘Gliffaes Country House Hotel: View of the Usk from the drive'
[Written 10th April] Near Harlech. [View very similar from window of Hotel where we stayed two nights ago]. Bleak weather in North Wales - for now we prefer warmer people and geography of South Wales, although Caernarvon is fascinating. Loved Crickhowell (see postcard). Visited Brecon- Ephraim Jenkin’s Ironmongery still standing. Also Talgarth. Friendly & amusing reception there. An elderly lady remembered John Kettle - her father played the organ for him. Lots of Morrises still here. Welsh still first language in all these places, strange sound at first but rather pleasing after a while. Not at all like ‘someone about to spit’. [Interesting evening. We were refused service at the hotel bar because we were Australian. An English lord noticing this, ambled over and apologised for his fellow countryman, leaving his card and inviting us to call him from anywhere on our travels in UK or Europe if we got into any sort of difficulties. Was this gallantry real? I think so, even if the alcohol helped a little. Seeing this scene the owner-barman, originally from Lincolnshire, came over to where we were sitting and we had notable service for the remainder of our stay]. Sunday 10th April Started off going through Snowdania National Park, Garreg and Beddgelert. This was the most spectacular scenery we encountered in Wales dominated by Moel Hebag (2566 feet) and Snowdon (3560 feet). Morning tea at Caernarfon and late morning inspecting the castle built by Edward I. This somehow gains in atmosphere through the incessantly crying gulls which hover above it. Gave two hitchikers a lift to Bangor then drove up the awesome Ogwen Valley above Bethesda watching the blizzards high up above us on Carnedd Llywelyn (3485 feet), Carnedd Dafydd (3427 feet) and Glyder Fawr (3279 feet). Betws-y-Coed in Snowdania Forest Park an interesting town built around river rapids but very cold, lots of tourists and no forest that we could see. Cold disappointing drive under steel grey skies to freezing town of Bala and its cold, windswept lake. Astounded to find many windsurfers in temperatures not much above freezing! Back to Maes-y-Neudd ("country-house" hotel) overlooking a sombre Cardigan Bay. Monday 11th April Brief look at the rolling hills of the Clwyd Valley passing through Ruthin and over the Clwydian Range to lunch in Mold at 'We Three Loggerheads Inn'. Drove through the industrial midlands of Cheshire, Merseyside and greater Manchester as quickly as possible. Strange to think that the forests of the ancient Kingdom of Mercia have given way to this unbelievable landscape of flat, polluted wasteland with industrial chimney stacks and mile after mile of power lines. As soon as we crossed the Standish Hills marking the boundary of Lancanshire, we were back in undulating countryside. Leaving the M6 we then skirted the Forest of Bowland heading for Ribblesdale. The Ribble flows through rich hills between Lancashire and North Yorkshire, and appeared to us very like the dale country in 'All Creatures Great and Small'. The closest thing we have yet seen to a desert in the UK was a little to the north east of this in what is supposed to be the Yorkshire Dales. This country however is cold, barren, utterly bleak and treeless from one horizon to the other. Its magnificently built stone fences and stark but well constructed stone sheds beside narrow country lanes looks appropriate for the viking people who settled here. Rich country around Sedbergh in Cumbria in great contrast to what we had just seen, and we were suprised at the high altitude of these hills not far from the sea. Perfect photographic weather down to lovely town of Kendall surrounded by mighty green hills in bright sunshine and far off snow peaked mountains. Breathtaking first view of Windermere on its glacial lake beneath the high Old Man and Cumbrian mountains. Lake Grasmere also felt like you were walking into a Constable landscape or a Wordsworth poem - not surprisingly since Wordsworth's 'Dove Cottage' is only a few hundred yards from our lakeside hotel. Tuesday 12th April Adopted a more leisurely pace taking on a small scenic drive through the beautiful Lake District via Keswick to Borrowdale and Buttermere. Some very old woodland areas with thick moss covered rocks. Stopped not long after Borrowdale to have a look at the Bowderstone, then deciding to continue the walk up the hill for better views and exercise. Our walk turned out to be a hike and the hill a mountain. Partly cloudy to begin with although we managed to rest on a soft turfy hillside in full sunlight high up above the valley for 15 minutes with magnificent views of the green valley below us against a backdrop of snow covered mountains. Conquered the last part of our climb onto the peak to be overwhelmed by the fantastic panorama surrounding us. Breathtaking views of the valleys and lake and Cumbrian Mountains behind Keswick. A rugged horizon line with beautiful purples, browns and blues in contrast to the vivid green below and the brilliant white above on many of the peaks. The Honister Pass was quite unbelievable and very dramatic with its incredibly steep road (1 in 4 steep grade) winding and twisting between the two ranges into a valley that at first seemed so minute way down below. Very pleased to have taken this circuit in a clockwise direction so we could look down. Having earnt our afternoon tea today, we stopped off at Dove Cottage for delicious warm, sticky gingerbread cake with fresh cream to return to our hotel for a restful late afternoon and an early dinner for a change. Wednesday 13th April Early start and very fast trip via Kirkstone Pass and Ullswater to Penrith. Crystal clear air and lakes in bright sunshine although the peaks showed that there had been siginificant snowfalls overnight and both of us had very cold feet during this drive despite layers of clothing. After bypassing Penrith, then Carlisle, via the M6, we headed East through the high hills of Northumbria to Greenhead and Housesteads to view Hadrian's Wall in the bright, cold northern light. This was a pleasant and rather awesome diversion. Bitterly cold stop at 'The Crags' to photograph each other standing on the best preserved and highest section of the wall which is surprisingly thick and well constructed. Breathtaking views over most of Northumberland. No wonder the Romans built a fort here. Pleasant country lanes but cold and bleak even on a 'good' day. The wall gives you an almost crushing sense of history. SCOTLAND Crossing the border into Scotland we noticed the same rather stark, puritan lines in the houses we had already observed in parts of Cornwall and Wales. Surprisingly flat at first but quickly rising to huge hills and high grass country before descending again to the incredible sprawl of Glasgow, not surprisingly known as "The Factory". Stopped at the Burrell's Collection, a private collection of artwork housed in a brilliantly designed, ultra-modern gallery against a backdrop of forest separated from the artworks only by enormous sheets of glass. Some beautiful Daumiers, Degas sketches and Rodin sculptures, but also a brilliant, although highly eccentric collection of work from ancient, Medieval and Renaissance epochs. Leaving Glasgow we drove up Loch Lomond watching the snowy peak of Ben Lomond (3192 feet) grow ever closer, the weather turning increasingly foul. Near Succouth we found Ashfield, fief of John Campbell 9th and last Laird of this cold, narrow glen at the head of Loch Long under the cold gaze of Cruach Tairbeirt (1364 feet) between the Cobbler (a jagged 2891 foot peak) and Ben Reoch (2168 feet) to the East. No wonder he never lived here! Climbing the terrible pass of Glen Croe we at last came within sight of Loch Fyne and skirted its darkling northern waters to stop briefly at Inverary before finishing this very long and arduous day at the very pleasant hotel 'Lochgair'. Thursday 14th April The easiest day of our trip so far. A late breakfast after a much needed sleep in and an extremely short drive back to Inverarary to visit the castle of the same name. Weather relatively mild and partly sunny. A rather lovely Sottish castle very much influenced by French Classicism. Beautiful hand painted panels, magnificent family portraits including some by Gainsborough which really bring the history of the fortunes of this highland family very much to life. The interior belongs essentially to the finest part of the age of the minuet. Giant, blazing fireplaces facing each other in central hallway and enormous but cosy 17th century style French provincial kitchen, most delightful. A walk through tangled woodland in brief period of sunshine completed our tour - no sign of hanging tree. Friday 15th April This morning we followed the Crinan Cana from Lochgilphead to the hotel at Crinan for views across stormy Crinan Harbour to mist enshrouded Duntroon Castle, looking very much like the lonely outpost of the Kingdom of Dalriada. Checking to see whether this was in fact the castle, we were informed by a red-headed bargirl (sitting on the bar) that Mrs. Malcolm, widow of the Lord of Poltalloch and heiress to Duntroon since the bankruptcy of its Campbell lords in the late 17th century, was extremely friendly and loved to have visitors. An interesting short drive across the flat marsh and woodland of Crinan Moor brought us to the stone pillared gate to the Poltalloch Estate and a fine view to the castle whose battlements could now be plainly seen. Not expecting to get very near we were very suprised when Mrs. Malcolm, whose look of startled amusement and general features rather resemble those of Irish actor Peter O'Toole, invited us to take an unescorted tour of every room. She then invited us to come back for lunch after a walk in the garden and a visit to the Poltalloch ruins and the family church within the grounds. Lunch consisted of the most declicious barley and leek (Scotch) broth and freshly baked home made loaves. We were here for four hours and enjoyed the beauty of this castle with its panoramic views through nearly every window of its five storeys, and inumerable rooms, nooks and crannies. We reluctantly left in mid-afternoon for a wet trip to Oban despite being invited to stay overnight. Oban is a very busy town with a very busy port as we soon discovered since our hotel 'The Caledonian', which had obviously seen better times but which still had a certain grandeur, was right next to the docks. Evening twilight here was quite spectacular - a purple glow of very deep hue extending to the oceans horizon over a placid sea. Unfortunately a large ship docked in mid evening and the noise from this combined with the noise from a large party of Scots from Glasgow forced us at 2am to arrange a new room with the night porter. POSTCARD: OBAN/GLENCOE – ‘Moonrise over Oban Town, Argyll, Scotland’
[Written 15th April] The weather turned bad as soon as we hit Scotland, but we still had plenty of sightseeing. Found an Ashfield near Succoth at the end of Loch Long, rather awesome [in fact not the original Ashfield, see notes above]. Enjoyed Inverary Castle very much, partly because there was a big log fire burning there. The Crinan Canal & Duntroon Castle absolutely marvellous places - had lunch with Mrs. Malcolm of Poltalloch in the Castle’s kitchen next to an Arga Stove. Highland hospitality. Oban an interesting place but cold and noisy so we’ve had to move out to Clachaig Inn near Glencoe. People round here hostile because my first name is Campbell, which seems a bit puerile. I thought it was a joke at first, but they take their history & grudges very seriously. Beautiful purple twilights over the sea at Oban last night- this postcard sums up its night atmosphere well. Saturday 16th April Very late start in showery weather following the north coastal road past Dunstaffnage Castle ruins skirting the steeply forested sides of Benderloch and the mirror like waters of Loch Creran, not stopping until the head of Loch Linnhe. Ballachulish and Glencoe very picturesque in their setting between the peaks at the mouth of Loch Leven. The outstanding nature of this mountain scenery increased in imposing grandeur and sheer perpendicular dimension as we proceeded up to the White Corries of Sron-na-Creise (2952 feet) and Clach-Leathad (3602 feet) on the edge of the terrible cold of the moor of Ramoch. Finding the 'Kingshouse Hotel' here out of season and most unfriendly, we retraced our steps to Dalness and on a country road beside the foaming waters of Achtriachtan beneath the sheer walls of Aonach Eagach (3168 feet) to the north and Bidean-nam-Bian (3766 feet), we spent a very pleasant and peaceful night at the 'Claghaig Inn'. Could not help noticing a sign "No Hawks or Campbells" at reception window!! Sunday 17th April
An extremely long drive up the Great Glen - Loch Linnhe and Ben Nevis totally fogged out - along Loch Lochy to pretty woodland a the Well of Seven Heads, then up to the spectacularly bleak rocky tableland dominated by the peaks of Ceannacorc and the Five Sisters over the steep slopes of Glen Shiel. Lunched at Dornie at the junction of three Lochs, Duich, Loing and Alsh and overlooked by romantic but bleak Eilean Donan Castle. I asked for a Tia Maria and milk at the bar here only to be given a glass of Tia Maria and a separate jug of milk and told to take as much milk as I liked. He said he did not get much call for it in these parts. We now decided to to drive all the way to Ullapool and set off up the single track road around Loch Carron. Did not tempt fate over the alpine scenic route to Applecross although views to this area from Kishorn across the head of Loch Kishorn were stunning. After the pass of An-Stoonach (1682 feet) came to a new kind of scenery not yet encountered. This consisted of very ancient looking pine trees, more gnarled and twisted and with burnished, coppery trunks and also extensive areas of bushland, the first real bush we have seen in Britain. For miles around Loch Torridon, the country is dominated by the peaks of the Liathach (3358 feet and 3456 feet) towering above the scattered ancient pine trees of the Ben-damph Forest, the Torridon mud flats and the gushing stream of of Glen Torridon. This eventually gives way to almost desert country, a boulder-strewn, treeless landscape in a high glacial valley beneath further craggy peaks. From Kinlochewe to Gairloch the road follows the much richer forested areas of Scotland's north-western watershed. North of this the coast road offers the secenic delights, even in foul weather, of flawlessly beautiful sheltered bays facing north. Their calm, turquoise waters set with picturesque islands and crescent shaped sandy coves. The final approach to Ullapool is breathtaking, a rugged road of imposing contrasts past glaciated peaks still in the grip of a polar winter, then down deeply into the Corrieshalloch Gorge of the River Broom which suddenly opens out into the most beautiful flooded valley, Loch Broom. 'Hotel Royal' is modern but very adequate and quiet on the approach road from Inverness, with fine views to the blizzards blowing on Benin Dearg (3536 feet) above the beautiful and extensive Inverlael Forest. Ullapool is probably the most interesting town we have yet seen in Scotland. Freezing cold - sleet and occasional snowflakes with weather deteriorating and gale blowing - hotel nearly deserted. Monday 18th April Set off in driving sleet and extremely cold conditions on the norther heathland road, aiming for Cape Wrath. As the gale intensified however we had to change our plans, since the ferry to the Cape would not be running in such weather, and we even nearly turned back only 5 miles out from Ullapool. The landscape here is a wilderness of bare alpine crags, steeply dissected by wild lochs - some a striking turquoise hue and towards the coast strewn with rocky islands and bleak grasslands, bare except for occasional strands of heather. The heather is dour dark brown in this season.
After encountering near cyclonic conditions at the loch where the crests of waves were being blown half a mile out of the lake, we decided to have lunch and warm up beside a blazing fire (albeit coal fire in a grate). Gaelic spoken here by fisherman. After lunch we proceeded as far as Scourie Harbour near its beautiful Bay of Islands, then headed south again to Lochinver where there is a mesmerising rushing stream entering at the source of yet another loch, Loch Inver, and a sweet stone bridge. On the road back from Lochinver we were surprised to find ourselves in some of the most outstanding and rugged volcanic mountain scenery yet encountered, not unlike the Warrumbungles. Today marked the furthest north that either of us has ever been. Blizzards and heavy snowfalls on the mountains at the head of Loch Broom. Tuesday 19th April Awoke with birght morning sunshine in our eyes on a brisk but bearable day in Ullapool. Took leave of our exorbitantly priced and poorly serviced Thomas Cook hotel vowing never to use Thomas Cooks services again. Paid a brief visit to Corrieshalloch Falls, one of the longest in Europe (but not as long as the Devils Bridge Falls in Wales). Nearly struck dense fog on gradually less bleak road south to Inverness and were thereafter in cloud. Inverness an interesting old town with a neo-classical modern bridge that has a certain functional beauty with its vast sweeping lines. Westward along Loch Ness, stopping frequently along its banks as the weather fined up to a perfectly calm, clear stillness under a brilliantly blue sky. More subtle but also more interminably lovely than other lochs. Following Loch Lochy for the second time, on this occasion westward, we came to our turning off point for the Grampians in full view of the vastness of Ben Nevis, this time only partially in mist, and thereafter headed east through a delightful high country and series of passes towards The Cairngorms. It was now about 2.30pm and what passed for Britons as a hot afternoon, we stripped off unnecessary clothes and went for a pleasant cool afternoon stroll in an ancient mossy glen of rushing waters under enormous pines beneath a sundrenched sky. In the late afternoon wer drove up a mountain road to a still lake reflecting the glory of The Cairngorms, drove up into The Cairngorms as far as we could and returned via a short drive and walk through woodlands of the Clan Chattan. Apparently much of this wild country is still owned by members of the McPherson and Grant families. Down in the valley of the Spey, a sunny haze was beginning to develop above which the mighty peaks of the Cairngorms thrust in a curious patchwork of pine forest, rock and snow. After Devonshire Tea and conversation at the 'Hotel Ossian', our intended destination, finding the hotel closed we booked in at a quiet B&B establishment surrounded by peaceful countryside and run by a friendly English couple. Lovely room in a nice old house - at £28 including dinner for two, the best value of our entire trip. Turned in for the night after a delightful sunset and twilight walk down through woodland to an incredibly serene loch that mirrored every detail of the sky and earth. Wednesday 20th April A disappointing day after a promising and sunny start driving north to Castle Grant where fog set in. The fog persisted, and Castle Grant was closed to visitors, as were Braemar and Balmoral later in the day. Despite these disappointments, we drove through some very interesting country including a high mountain pass with patches of melting snow all around, and some distant views of the mountains of central Grampian as well as of the Cairngorms behind us. This aristocratic part of Scotland is more densely forested, with older and more diverse trees, numerous rushing rivers, and the most prosperous towns. Braemar in particular has a very wealthy look about it with its immaculately laid out cobbled streets and exceptionally fine storeyed buildings displaying the celtic love of good stonework. Finally arrived at our utterly magnificent hotel 'Pine Tees' at Pitlochry after a rather exhausting drive through pleasant countryside. Our attic-walled but spacious room in a turret of this grand Victorian hotel set in a glorious and huge garden was the most comfortable since Crickhowell and a sheer delight to be in. After a banquet dinner prepared by a cordon-bleu chef and served with unusual charm in an almost deserted dining room, we enjoyed a long and peaceful slumber. Thursday 21st April Missed breakfast. First went to the Pass of Killiecrankie and walked to the Soldier's Leap, so named after the terrified lowland soldier who, pursued by ferocious highlanders under the legendary Dundee, jumped 18 feet across the swirling and raging waters below. This is supposed to be one of Scotland's best pieces of natural forest, the original forest of oak and hazel that once covered all of Scotland. Finding it rather cold and bare at this time of year, we left it for Blair Atholl, three miles north-west of the pass. Blair Castle is undoubtedly one of the highlights of our trip to the UK. Whether one is interested in the castle, the garden or in Scottish history, weeks could be spent here. A contemporary of the 1st Duke of Argyll, the 1st Duke of Atholl shared his strange combination of cunning, taste and decadence. In matters of style and sheer aesthetic perfection, these two Scottish barons shared the classicism of their French aristocratic archetypes alongside a certain barbaric Scottish joie-de-vivre and sense of Faerie. The Lordship of Atholl, though not so ancient as that of Argyll, is since the English "Glorious Revolution", by which the Stuarts were deposed, the most senior family of the Royal Stuart line in Scotland. The three things which fascinated us most were the exhaustive and quite magnificent collection of portraits, the marvellous richly decorated (17th century French High Baroque style) banqueting hall and the lovely parkland, rather wild by Scottish standards, begun by the 4th Duke by random shooting of larch seeds from a cannon! After a misty late afternoon walk in the gardens, we returned to our beautiful and peaceful hotel, and to yet another sumptuous meal, carried to our table with the usual perfection and charm. The atmosphere was rather unique in combining Edwardian grandeur with Oriental (almost palatial) furnishing and an other-worldly Celtic quality emphasised by the off-season quietness. At the stroke of midnight (really 1am), C woke to see what he thought was an old woman with white wavy hair walking through the door of our room, which was closed. As I also had heard footsteps and as there was a rather electric atmosphere in the room anyway, perhaps due to its strange proportion, neither of us could sleep for about an hour although when we did, we slept very peacefully. Friday 22nd April A very large breakfast, superb by any standards. The Manageress looked amused when asked about ghostly visitors and told us that staff living in rooms 25-28 would explain the footsteps. Later however, she confided in us that a fabulously wealthy and eccentric Turk had owned Pinetrees in the 1890's and that a friend of hers from New Scotland Yard had discovered his name in old CIB files connected with, evidently, some major crimes. He was still investigating, and we wondered what would turn up! The road to Edinburgh was uneventful and rather grey. Stirling Castle, an island in a sea o black flat peat marshes, rises to an enormous height above the volcanic plains around, its windy black fastness echoing in the gale that blows perpetually from east to west. Apart from some refinements in the French vein instituted by Charles I, with a curious and rather lingering beauty in this terrible place, and some extraordinary stone figures - dragons, grotesques, gargoyles and barebreasted Renaissance women holding up the roof - we felt that this was typical of the strange marriage of barbarous, magical and wild forces that pertains everywhere in Scotland. Our first impression of Edinburgh was of harsh, cold stone buildings under an even harsher steel grey sky. Admittedly the weather was absolutely awful making even the castle high up on its craggy rock above a bustling modern city look dismal and irrelevant. People here rather cold and business like, almost military and in great contrast to Glasgow's people. Another dreadful Thomas Cook hotel room with no sleep at all. Saturday 23rd April A brief look at Edinburgh Castle and a chilly but sunny walk about its battlements for magnificent views over the city and the Forth. Setting and gardens also magnificent, stonework not so refined as Stirling nor as interesting, although the Mary Queen of Scots apartments are very lovely and quite moving - especially the brilliant Van Dyck of the rather sensitive looking Charles I and his family. Late dropping off the car at Port Royal Golf Course where we had lunch and waited some time at a bus stop beside an empty paddock feeling just as though we were in Melbourne on a similar day. This was my first ride on a double decker bus! In the late afternoon while C had a rest in our new (thank heavens) and very lovely, ultra-modern 'Avengers' style (Executive Suite) room, I went to see the 'Gold of the Pharoahs' exhibition at the City of Edinburgh Art Centre. This has some magnificent pieces of gold jewellery, funerary objects and masks on display, superbly crafted and obviously created with much care and love for the aesthetic as well as the functional or spiritual purpose of each work. The wait in the long queue was worth it! Sunday 24th April Edinburgh - Mild, clearing & 17 degrees We spent the entire day flying and being in transit, at first very pleasant but tiring later in the day, especially trying to brush up on old, High School French. The change in climate and vegetation is very noticeable considering the small distance actually travelled. While Edinburgh was coming out of winter, London was enjoying a perfect sunny day in spring, Paris an early dose of mediterranean summer. FRANCE An interesting and very French train trip with our heavy baggage from Charles de Gaulle airport to Chatelet metro station, assisted by a helpful Englishman and expatriot New Zealander on a business trip, jovially bemoaning French stubborness. Also in the carriage, our first taste of French metro art, a Latin American busker (Mistral? Troubador?) complete with amplifiers and playing extremely well. We gave him our change. It was really quite fabulous hurtling along to this Latin musical accompaniment in brilliant golden sunshine past the humble but somehow kindly apartments of the poor outer suburbs of Paris, feasting our eyes on trees, market gardens and flower beds in riotous spring disorder all in full bloom. The character of Paris is immediate - reflected even in its architecture and climate - amiable, extrovert but courteous, individualistic, light and soft, devotedly aesthetic, humorous. Thank goodness we arrived at Chatelet, Paris' busiest metro on a Sunday instead of weekday peak hour. As it was we had little difficulty transferring to St. Paul in the central Marais quarter 200 metres from the Seine at our 'Hotel Stella' accommodation - very peaceful and quaint if a little rundown, also ridiculously cheap. After settling in, took the metro one stop to Place de la Bastille to view the Colonne de Juillet in late afternoon, then walked down rue St. Antoine to the Hotel de Ville, crossing the river onto Ile de la Cite to see Notre Dame Cathedral bathed in the friendly sunlight of a westerning sun, the Gothic splendour of France. The summery light outside somehow emphasised the warm darkness inside, broken only by the candles below and the richly coloured windows above. Of these, the most beautiful are the Dantesque 'Rose of Heaven' windows whose massive circles face north, south, east and west. For my birthday we went to a lively little Left Bank restaurant near St. Germaine, well patronised by Parisiens, for a delicious meal and a heady Vin de Provence. Monday 25th April Both slept well and rose late to a clear blue sky, a nice change. After coffee and croissants in the sun at a table a few yards from Notre Dame, walked to the Hotel Dieu for a close look at this building of classical dimensions, now a hospice and medical school. Then after a brief glimpse at the Prefecture de Police, spent a couple of hours in the Palais de Justice and in the Sainte Chapelle within its quadrangle. This is the ancient and modern, mystical and administrative centre of Paris, and indeed of France, one of the most civilised countries. Sainte Chapelle, exquisitely beautiful 13th century relictuary of the Crown of Thorns (within the grounds of the secular law courts) contains also around its walls, a pictorial bible consisting of hundreds of delighful stylised scenes in vivid colours. We then strolled along the banks of the Seine from the Pont Napoleon to the Pont Neuf where we bought bread croquettes with salad for a picnic lunch in the Tuilleries Gardens. On a cloudless, warm and sunny day in spring, nothing more glorious could be imagined than to walk beside the fountains and green leafed horse chestnuts, contemplating the sculptures of Maillol. Dinner tonight once more near St. Germaine. We later discovered this was not either the best or the most competitive place to dine on the Left Bank, being rather expensive and bourgeois. Pleasantly surprised to find a telegram waiting from C's parents wishing us Happy Birthdays. Tuesday 26th April Another pleasant surprise this morning to receive a very unexpected phone call from my parents at 9.30am (approximately 5.30pm Melbourne time). Took metro to Luxembourg Station and breakfasted at a cafe in rue St. Michel. Brief visits to the Luxembourg complex for views of Palais and of gardens before walking to beautiful Saint Sulpice with its "easter egg" altar and marvellous Delacroix wall paintings, busily being copied by French art students. Then took metro to Maubert for an interesting walk through the streets of the Left Bank past the Sorbonne towards the Pantheon. Lovely picnic in unbelievable spring splendour of Montsouris Park after RER train Luxembourg to Cite Universitaire, where we also stopped in for a brief look at a very green and pleasing university campus (once a palace). This was really our most successful meal to date: cheap, healthy and sustaining, consisting of bread from a boulangerie, cheese and salami (and a demi bouteille of Bordeaux - delicious!) from a charcuterie, and superb sweet oranges, tomatoes and sugar bananas from another charcuterie. Particularly astounding at Montsouris, apart from the the beautiful and ancient groves of trees (growing on either side of what was in turn an old quarry, a railway siding and a municipal dump), were the fantastically huge yellow, violet and red tulips seen at a stage of sheer perfection. From Montsouris we then walked to Montparnasse Cemetery to see Brancusi's sculpture 'The Kiss'. A very pleasant laid back and simple quarter of Paris. Dropped in at Saint Pierre de Montrouge on the way, a Byzantine revival church which works much better than Westminster Cathedral in London employing the same idea. Also stopped to watch some men playing French bowls in a park near the cemetery. After a quick walk to Notre Dame after sunset, feeling very tired and amply fed, we decided not to have dinner and turned in for an early night. Wednesday 27th April A heavenly, lazy day in the Bois de Boulogne to the west of Paris, a favourite haunt of Henri Rousseau. Situated on over 2,000 acres, this was formerly the wild Rouvray Forest transformed by Baron Haussmann in 1852 to a rambling Anglais-style parkland. Before visiting this absolutely magnificent park, much bigger than Centennial Park in Sydney, with large tracts of original forest intact, we bought a sumptuous picnic of food from local patisserie and charcuterie, the best and cheapest we have found. Then headed deep into this gorgeous wild forest of pine, horse chestnut, elm, hazel and oak - very, very green, asking a friendly African gardener the way in. 
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After going for what seemed miles into this tangled wilderness, past some groups of children foraging for chestnuts, we asked an old man on a bicycle for directions to the Bagatelle. We were actually somewhere in the middle of the woodland at this stage. We were not only given directions but were escorted, complete with non-stop French commentary and conversation, right to the gates of Parc de Bagatelle itself. We were even given a brief detour to the Pre-Catalan named after the court minstrel murdered there in the reign of Philip IV the Fair, and the Jardin Shakespeare in which were glorious displays of flowers as well as the trees and herbs mentioned in his plays. It was not until we reached the Bagatelle that we realised that this kindly and diminutive old gentleman had in fact gone an enormous distance out of his way to get us there. A perfect example of French graciousness and charm and much appreciated since we would otherwise have got hopelessly lost. We were breathtaken and spellbound by this planned but rambling, almost wild garden, with its profusion of flowers (especially poignant red tulips and enormous and vivid violet bluebells), more magnificent and colourful than any that either of us has seen before. All this in a setting of towering ancient trees of countless varieties and fields of timeless, sundrenched, waist high rippling grass, set against a romantic sky of vivid blue with the most ethereal thunder clouds. Just heavenly! A delightful picnic in the Bagetelle made for a wonderful, relaxed and romantic day. POSTCARD: PARIS – ' Pussy and the painter, in front of Notre-Dame'
[Written 27th April] Thanks very much for your postcard and telegram, we spent today in the indescribably beautiful Bois de Bologne – springtime in Paris on a sunny is a wonder to behold. The Bois (or Woodland) is a huge rambling bushland, mostly maples, hazel and elm with numerous large chestnuts and wild prunus all in full flower. There is no order apparent – just natural forest of the best kind. It feels as though you have walked into a beautiful film, one of Peter Weir’s. A nice old fellow on a bicycle took us to the “Bagatelle” enclosed garden to see the most gorgeous display of trees and flowers amidst fields of grass and lakes that I have ever seen. B thought that today was the best day of the trip and I am inclined to agree. Paris really is a marvellous place. Lots of cats and squirrels in the Bois – cats being fed met by Parisiens with their children – they bring meat (fresh) all the way into the Bagatelle (a long walk), especially for the cats. Thursday 28th April THE RIGHT BANK After booking in at the 'Hotel des Balcons' (rather sad to leave 'Hotel Stella') at 3 rue Casimir-Delavigne near Odeon in the 6th arrondisement, we took the metro to the Pont Neuf and had a combined breakfast and lunch at a very pleasant cafe near the river, watching all the people go by. We then walked briskly to the Louvre palaces and museum, at first getting lost, then finding 'The Winged Angel' on the Henry IV staircase that marks the beginning of the Medieval, Renaissance, Baroque, Classical and Romantic painting galleries. Here we spent most of our time in the early Baroque sections as the Louvre offers itself to a chronological touring program. Particularly fascinated (C more so) by late Gothic masterpieces, also Delacroix's high romantic panoramas, Rembrandts and Van Dycks and by the overly literary but still utterly sumptuous and magnificent Rubens room, with its dramatic life of Marie de Medici. In mid afternoon metroed from the Louvre to Place de la Concorde and walked up the Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe. The Egyptian Obelisk, virtually identical to the one we saw from a distance in London, called 'Cleopatra's Needle', marks the place where Madame Guillotine once stood. This was a very tiring, noisy and polluted walk with high points only at the beginning and towards the end, notably the beautiful Victorian era gardens and palaces at the start with some magnificent stands of mature horse chestnuts (some of great girth), and the Arch of Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, a stunning glory at the end. Half dead, we then metroed to the Opera for a brief visit and to view the theatrical museum there, as well as to try to book tickets for opera or ballet. Totally unsuccessful in the latter - $200 (800FF) a seat for Faust if we wanted seats with visibility! When C was last here, it was possible to get seats with a good view in the top balcony for $8 (Samson & Delilah in 1975). Fell in love with this place, probably the most theatrical place in the world with its velvet and gilded gold fish bowl, many tiered opera hall which combines fairytale fantasy, royal magnificence and human scale intimacy.
Friday 29th April From the Gare des Invalides we walked up the esplanade, one of the great open spaces of Paris, to pay a morning visit to Hotel des Invalides and the tomb of Napoleon. Could not help noticing plaques commemorating deaths by Nazi firing squads of heroes of the French Resistance, and machinegun scarred walls no doubt used for some grim purpose, for target practice or hit by stray bullets in a skirmish. This was a German headquarters during the war. Passing Ecole Militaire in Ave de la Motte-Piquet, we then strolled down the formal squares and gardens of Champ de Mars, the huge open space dominated by the Eiffel Tower. As it was a sultry, hazy day, the Tour Eiffel swarming with tourists in much the same way as it has been ever since it was built for the 1900 Paris Exposition, we opted instead to view the delightful children's merry-go-round playing old songs of Paris, quite captivating. Crossing the river to the Palais de Chaillot and the gardens of Trocadero, major archteypes of 20th century Neo Romantic (and Fascist) architecture, we paid an interesting visit to the dusty and tiny Museee de l'Homme. Metro to Anvers now, and a zig zag steep climb up Montmatre for a sunset visit to Sacre Coeur. Actually it was a very dark afternoon and at sunset, Paris was in a dim twilight already but still an awe-inspiring panoramic ground view of this city. Very dark inside Sacre Coeur, quite different from how C remembered it flooded with afternoon light at his last visit 13 years ago. Delicious dinner in nearby Montmatre whose winding cobbled streets I instantly fell in love with. 
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What a contrast, from the serene tranquillity and beauty of Sacre Coeur, down the increasingly densely built up and lonely slopes of Montmatre, crossing the bridge over the expansive, overgrown and rather ghostly Cimitiere to the brash, noisy, perverted yet colourful human wilderness of Pigalle and the Moulin Rouge. It was like living through a modern version of Dantes Divine Comedy in the space of a mere 20 minutes, but unlike Dante, we escaped from the inferno in a metro. If it was an escape, our room at 'Hotel des Balcons' was infernally noisy and neither of us slept well for the duration of our stay there. Incidently, omitted to mention an interesting and endearing characteristic of Paris at night, that all the cars have soft, muted yellow headlights that give a very distinctive and soft lemon glow to night traffic. Also, thank God, almost no buses. Saturday 30th April After a terrible night's sleep at our noisy hotel, we only just got up in time to experience the morning marche (marketplace) at Ledru-Rollin near the Place d'Aligre. Although very noisy and bustling, there is a friendliness and courtesy in these ancient markets whose quarter, the Marais, is perhaps the most enduringly Parisien, and certainly the oldest and most beloved by Parisiens. In the late afternoon after a disappointing detour to the Jardin des Plantes with lunch materials bought from Ledru-Rollin, we paid an equally disappointing visit to the canals and quays of NE Paris, all boarded up and in the process of beautification. Our twilight walk down Rue de Lafayette from the Square de Paris at Metro Stalingrad was interesting but fairly polluted and under a metallic bleak post-sunset sky, was unnerving. Railway yards at Gare de l'Est very extensive, a bit like Melbourne's Flinders St but with a much more imposing and beautiful late Romantic/High Victorian station facade. Another sleepless night, mainly due to the proximity of the Comedie Francais. Next: May 1988 |
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