On to, and in, Murchison

17/11/12 - in Nelson
Turns out the kids I mentioned in the last post - boys and girls of a variety of ages, though mostly around the Intermediate level - are up from Christchurch to play in a touch rugby tournament.   They certainly brought plenty of life to the place which was pretty quiet the night before, and they seem well organised.  They're up and about early this morning: I thought there was no one around until I went to the toilet about 6.30 and discovered they were already up and running.  The walls in this place a surprisingly soundproof.

Yesterday afternoon we went for a long stroll/walk on the beach at Tahunanui.  It's glorious: a huge expanse that gets covered with the tide when it comes in, and warm water and sunshine streaming down on it all.  You can see why people like the place.  Nelson seems to have grown hugely since we were last here, but that might be just my view of it.  It's certainly not a little place.

We got some Soov from the chemist yesterday and that's certainly helped ease the itchiness of the mozzie bites.  We could hear one in the cabin just before we went to bed last night but Celia may have frightened it to death or even caught it in a mighty clap she gave!

We're off to Murchison today. Almost missed out on getting a place to stay until Celia discovered, on an iPad app she's got, that there was a place not listed in the AA book.  Hopefully the road isn't totally winding and hilly!


18/12/12 - in Murchison
Restless night after a not so wondrous day.  It rained on and off all the way to Murchison, and then rained more when we got here. Between times it would be quite warm and pleasant, and I actually went for a walk at one point looking for the river on the other side of the road and strangely forgetting that I'd just been looking at it with Celia at the back of the camp!  I'd missed noting the bridge we came over, somehow.

She wasn't in the best of states: the midges are everywhere here and she got very agitated because she was so sure they were all out to bite her, after all the trouble she'd had with the bites she'd got in Picton.  Her ankles are still swollen, and she wants to be at home now, so everything combined to make her feel miserable for a while. The camp isn't very good considering what we're paying for it (only five dollars less than the very good cabin in Nelson) and the so-called double bed in the room is literally just a built in bunk that Celia immediately knew wouldn't be comfortable for the two of us.  So we brought one of the air beds in and she slept on that.  It was stuck in the corner under the little shelf where the cutlery and electric jug is.  The kitchen we used was okay, but whether they're doing some overhauling of it or what I don't know, but it's almost bare of utensils. The jug in it was so foul looking inside that we couldn't bear to use it.  It reminded us of the one in London that had been peed in, though that obviously wasn't the problem with it.*  Still, there's a quite large lounge area and we sat and watched a repeat of Doc Martin and read a bit. Ironically, there's a notice in the office that you should check out the place before you pay as no refunds will be given.  I'm not sure how you'd do that, and what your alternative would be anyway!

The place is geared up for people doing kayaking, and there are wet suits hanging everywhere, and a lot of young people about. Not that we saw them much: they were either out kayaking or cooking in the other kitchen, which had pots and pans galore in shopping bags on the floor.  That might explain their absence in our kitchen.  The toilets, which are next to our cabin, are pretty good and look as though they've been built, or done up, recently.  I guess if you have a place like this you have to work on a bit at a time, depending on finances.  The problem is, as seemed to be the case in Kaikoura, if you let it run down too much people won't come at all and then you've got no money to work with.

We had pottered around in Nelson before we left.  There was a market with a lot of stalls that was worth wandering around, though it was raining lightly, and I went up to the Cathedral to have a look. It's in a beautiful setting, a well-established garden on the hillside, and that's a delight, but the cathedral itself seems rather stark to me, and lacking in much warmth.  The great bell tower is square and open, so you can see the bells, but has a skeletal feel about it, and the building, while imposing, doesn't invite you in.  There was a short-haired cat wandering around inside, a friendly creature, which I thought must have belonged, but neither of the two women doing the flowers knew where it came from, and one of them was shooing it away from the altar, and asking me what it was doing there.


We've booked to go to Hanmer Springs today, though I'm not much looking forward to the drive.  The one to Murchison was a bit winding and hilly but not as bad as the Blenheim to Nelson one; today's drive may be much the same it seems.

*Curiously enough I don't seem to have mentioned the jug/kettle that had been peed in, in London, in the posts I wrote at the time. We'd been in this hovel of a room for three days right near the end of our five month trip, and hadn't used the kettle for one reason or another - probably because the room wasn't pleasant just to sit around in, and we'd eaten out all the time.  On the last night I went to fill it up with water, opened it, and discovered someone had used it for a toilet at some point.  We'd paid £40 pounds for this room, with breakfast in the cafe downstairs included.  That was around $120NZ at the time.  Phenomenal rip off.

Quiet Sunday in Valencia

In spite of Celia’s sore foot, we went to High Mass at the Cathedral this morning. Mass seems to happen every hour on the hour there, as well as next door (literally) at the Basilica! Not that the Cathedral was packed, but there were half a dozen priests saying Mass together. It’s the second time we’ve gone to Mass since we’ve been away: in Florence we went to one in an ancient church in the old city. Again it wasn’t far from where we lived. On both occasions I can truly say I had no idea what the priest was preaching about!
Came back from there and decided to get out of the apartment anyway, even though Mrs’ foot was sore. Walked up over what used to be the river. I don’t know quite what happened, but there are notices locally about the Great Flood of 1907 (if I’ve got my facts right) when the historic city (where we’re staying) was flooded badly. The river bed is very wide, so for it to have flooded must have been a considerable achievement.
Equally, for it to be totally dry, as it now is, is another considerable achievement. Again, I don’t know why this is, but presumably any water that used to go through there is now diverted somewhere else. This afternoon the area closest to us was being used as a parade ground for umpteen soccer teams (all dressed in the most colourful uniforms) and when we returned several teams were still playing games. The whole river bed near here at least is one large community recreation area.
We finally discovered, after four days in Valencia, that the Metro here is not an underground train, but the tram system. The trams are very new and tidy, and we caught one down to the beach where we sat and did very little for quite a long time. It was a lovely afternoon, and people were out in full force. That actually meant little, because the beach is so vast, and the promenade area is wide and long, that you didn’t feel crowded in the least.
We watched half a dozen people playing volleyball for a long time, and then later saw a man and a woman flying kites in tandem. They both had the same model kite, one that has two strings attached to it. The strings are connected to a handle that the flyer uses, and because of the shape, the kite can be manipulated very readily. The man was ‘leading’ with his kite, and where he led, the woman would aim to follow with her kite. I think he was coaching her in some way, but my Spanish is a little limited. Anyway, it was a lovely sight to see these two kites echoing each other around the air space.
And so home to the apartment, where we snoozed for an hour or two (it’s daylight saving changeover here today) and then Celia whipped up a perfectly decent meal from the next to nothing we had in the fridge.

The picture is of the Cathedral; just to its left is the Basilica (not shown). Celia missed the step just near the door.

One of those days

Saturday. Left Chester around lunchtime, visited Oswestry (which may be pronounced Ostry, but don‘t bank on it) and arrived in Kidderminster. Didn’t really explore Chester’s Cathedral or City Walls, or Oswestry‘s more interesting haunts. Did explore op shops and supermarkets. Bought a pair of waterproof boots for £7.99 in one of the op shops, as my other pair of shoes are letting the water through. Arrived in camp near Kidderminster, exhausted. All this setting up house, cooking meals over a gas stove, getting up in the morning, cooking meals over a gas stove, taking house down again, packing car so that everything gets fitted in, and driving somewhere, and then starting the whole process over has worn us out.

Not to Crowle yet

We set out this morning to go to Crowle. We are fated not to go to Crowle as yet.
Both of us woke up early - around six - and we finished up getting up not much later. It takes virtually three hours to get ourselves sorted out in the morning when we’re tenting. Three different locations in two tents in four days. Certainly the new tent allowed us to stand upright - a great joy for homo erectus - and after we’d had tea, we sat inside and read - or blogged, as in my case.
The site was quieter than the one the night before, but there was still an ongoing motor cavalcade hum going on in our left ears.
Anyway, we began heading towards Crowle, and found that the Sat Nav seemed to be taking us in a rather long way round route, which required us to go towards Birmingham, virtually, before we went south again. The day wasn’t that exciting in terms of the weather, and we read on one of the electronic road signs that there was some blockage with long queues on the road we were about to take, and I was feeling too tired to cope with dragging through snail-pace traffic - and I think Celia was too.
In the end, since we were heading towards Lichfield (where we were booked in for tonight and tomorrow in a hotel) anyway, we decided to have a day that didn’t consist of driving. Instead we went straight onto Lichfield, found a parking building, and wandered around the town.
The weather gradually improved, and we checked out the usual places: charity shops, secondhand bookshops, and so on, and visited the Samuel Johnson museum. Had a pub lunch, and headed on towards the Cathedral. (Which had its spire toppled by the Roundheads).
The Cathedral entrance is just extraordinary: dozens of statues of saints and kings, many of them lifesize, fitted into the face of the building. And there are dozens more inside. At first the place struck me as being overly militaristic in its trappings, with a lot of memorials dedicated to people who died in various wars, but it improved as we went on. And we discovered that Bishop Selwyn has his resting place there. He has a great deal to do with New Zealand, so that was a bonus. As was meeting a New Zealander at the door - he was welcoming people as they came in. Both Celia and I felt we knew him, once he started talking about himself a bit, but he didn’t seem to know us. I knew his mother, however: she’s the Anglican minister in Stewart Island.
(It’s been a strange thing that we haven’t met anyone we know from New Zealand since we’ve been here: usually NZeders are thick on the ground.)
The stained-glass window around the main altar is dazzling, full of wonderful colours. Much of it was rescued from a convent on the Continent, bought for £200 and sold to the cathedral for the same amount. The glass was then restored into its new location.
Finally we found our hotel where I’m blogging and Celia’s snoozing. She was tired.

Luxembourg

A view of William III Square with the Cathedral in the background.

Today was our first full day in Luxembourg. It started somewhat late, as we were both very tired, and slept in - Celia more than me, in fact. And it was raining quite heavily. However, in spite of the rain we donned the raincoats we’d bought in the market at Norwich, and walked to the bus stop. Found the right bus just coming along, and twenty minutes or so later we were in the centre of Luxembourg.
Much of our day was spent in getting orientated and finding our way around the main streets. It’s the end of some sort of retail period when all the old stock is got rid of, so, even though it was raining (and raining heavily at some points) the retailers all had stalls outside their shops and were selling off stuff. I wish I’d had my camera with me, because the site of all the streets filled with umbrellas and stalls was quite delightful to the eye.
We found all sorts of interesting things: the old fish market which has several narrow lanes and odd street levels, and interconnections between buildings and lanes, and spiral staircases and about a dozen restaurants all crammed on top of each other. We found the Cathedral later in the day, a splendid building with wonderful modern stained glass fabulously coloured, and a display (I think) on the original altar of various gold monstrances and thurifers. The altar area just shimmered with colour. I’ve written elsewhere about the exhibition that was on.
The modern art museum was closed today, so we’ll have to catch up with it another time. It’s apparently well worth a look.
The day improved as we went on and was quite sunny by the time we were worn out. We still bought a couple of fold-up umbrellas for future use - they were going out at 50% off. We also found a supermarket hidden away inside another building - Celia was pleased. After all, what is a shopping area without a supermarket (or a DIY store)?
In the market we came across a stall where they were warning of the dangers of the Internet to children, and the need to be vigilant. But as a crowd eye catcher, there were two Sony model dogs on display, electronic machines that would sit, and beg, and take a ‘bone’ in their mouths, and walk, and wag their tails, and flick their ears - and in general be remarkable. But they only understood English!
In the next day or so we’ll go on one of the sightseeing trips and see what the rest of the place looks like.
Luxembourg is a curious place: the basic language spoken by children at home is Luxembourgish, which, according to Stephen (whom we’re staying with) has only begun to be written down in the last three years! The children then learn German very early on in their school careers, and then French a bit later. English comes fourth on the list. But when you go to a shop you can find the staff speaking both French and German (and English). Librairies (bookshops) have a mix of French and German books - and a very few English ones, but there are still many familiar faces and names on the covers. The street signage is in both German and French - but not necessarily both at the same time, or seemingly in any consistent approach. For all that Luxembourg is a very organised place: the environment is very important, and recycling is a big thing. Yet, there are very few shops where you can buy secondhand stuff. (Though Kim, our host’s wife, is going to take us to a large one at some point.)
We hadn’t realised that with the European Union in force, borders are no longer places where you have to present passports and be inspected. You sail through. The border between Germany and Luxembourg is halfway across a bridge, as far as the road is concerned, but the passport inspection offices are all derelict and closed. My host works for the European Union as a statistician, and he says that things are becoming more uniform throughout the Union (something that he, as a statistician, would appreciate I suspect!). Countries still retain their own identity, but things have more similarity than they used to have. They’re even similar to England: the parking ticket machine at the airport was an exact model of the ones we’ve been using in Norwich.

Roman Catholic Cathedral

We finally made it to the RC Cathedral in Norwich today. The weather has been dull all day, and it was still overcast when we stepped inside the building. All of the rear part of the building was in gloom; the light was all up the front, most of it natural, some of it artificial.
It takes a good deal of time to find the detail in this large building. Unlike many churches, where things stand out the moment you enter, my first impression of this place was of the immense columns holding up the ceiling arches, columns a good metre or more in diameter. Only later on did I realise that each one has a different floral design around its base. And only later on did I realise there were small sculptured heads lining the walls. And that there were gargoyles on the outside of the building. Nothing seems to hit you at first; there’s just this lovely sense of peace. The place was empty apart from one man who sat in the pew for most of our visit, barely moving.
This isn’t a fussy church, somehow. There aren’t bits and pieces going off in various directions; instead there are a couple of small altars - maybe three - at the sides of the original main altar, and these are gloriously decorative affairs, Byzantine in their colour schemes. The main altar has been left isolated because of the shift in thinking about the altar being closer to the people, and the priest facing them. Consequently there’s a large gap between the painted screens that would have been behind the altar originally, and where the main altar is now.
There’s a sunken chapel off to one side, sunken in the sense that the floor is lower than that of the main building. And there are plans in the making to extend the building considerably out at one side. One part of the wall - two or three metres across - is going to be opened up and a new section built outside. This will include a shop, toilets, baby rooms and so on. It will also destroy the design of the building, but needs must, I suppose. Except that there’s an awful lot of space inside the building now, and somehow I can’t see it being filled to overflowing every Sunday.
The stained glass is lovely: there are two kinds. One is very demure, quiet, and almost colourless. You only see the patterning when you get up closer. The other is full of colour, with hundreds of pieces of coloured glass making up the pictures. It’s not the usual stained glass colouring somehow, but something much brighter and more cheerful which gives off a kaleidoscope effect. The main door is glass too, a wonderful smoky glass.
Outside, the building seems to be in a bit of trouble. Whatever stone has been used (and the building is only just over a 100 years old) is crumbling badly in places. The gargoyles are in for a fall if they’re not careful.
We wended our way down St Giles St (think it’s a Street) and came across an excellent secondhand bookshop, which had a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I’d seen a copy of this in the Oxfam shop in Yarmouth (if I remember rightly) and had decided it was too expensive. I should have bought it as I’ve had trouble finding a copy ever since. It’s still a very popular book. Not sure why I want to read it, except that it’s one of those books that sticks in your mind and you keep saying…I must read that someday.

Norwich Cathedral

I only realised after my brother-in-law queried it, that the dates on these posts are in NZ time, not British. Consequently we’re sometimes managing to do things eleven hours before they’ve happened.
Yesterday we finally went and had a look at Norwich Cathedral. It dwarfs all the other churches, even the big ones, that we’ve been to so far. Not only that, it’s like a collage: piece after piece and layer after layer has been added on. Other pieces have become hidden under Time, pillaging, spires falling, the Dissolution and so on. People who existed and died in one century lie cheek by jowl with those who died two centuries later. Brasses have been removed from most gravestones now, as seems the custom generally in England because they were getting rubbed away. Splendid art work from three or four centuries ago rubs shoulders with something done in the last few decades. A glittering museum of gold and silver plate is reached by a narrow spiral staircase inside stone, and there’s a rope, grimed with thousands of hands, to haul yourself up by.
We discovered that the innumerable bosses on the ceiling (not those sort of bosses – even in England they don’t banish bosses to the ceiling) are not all the same, but highly individualised. This discovery came about because each boss has been photographed and put on a CD Rom. It’s the only way you can see them clearly at all, since the Cathedral is virtually three storeys high.
It’s also like two separate churches. Half way down the centre is a kind of narrowing, a bottleneck almost between wooden structurings, and then the church opens out again into a second section as big as the first. I suppose you could have two separate services going on at once – quite apart from the services that could be going on in the Jesus Chapel and the Mary Chapel and the who knows what other chapel. All around the edge of the Cathedral is a kind of walkway, where there are doors and passageways and rooms. It would take a year to become familiar with the place. We were there for maybe an hour all up – and that included having tea in the Refectory: the name of the café but also the real name for the area that used to exist there where the priests and monks would have had their meals. It’s now a modern structure hung between the walls of the Cathedral on one side and the old Refectory wall on the other. A theological library sits up along the end of this section (this is all on a first floor level) and in the middle of the library is a piece of the original wall, about three foot by one foot in size.
It’s a church we’ll have to go back to. For starters we didn’t have the camera with us, so it just exists (barely) in memory at the moment.
We came out of there into Tombland, a street presumably named after an area that was once where graves were. Each shop in the street is called Tombland something (newsagent, bookshop, hairdresser). We went into the secondhand bookshop, but it was very expensive overall. Certainly there were some good books there, but it was geared for those with plenty of money in their pockets, like the old man who was buying up large and handing over wads of notes as he did so. We found a copy of one of the two boEllis Peters’ Brother Cadfael books we’re missing out of the series but at £10 it was just a bit pricey. Celia said, ‘Phew…!’ and that confirmed my feeling about the price!

Footnote: Norwich Cathedral is apparently named The Cathedral of the Holy and Undivided Trinity. And I forgot to mention that it has proper cloisters, in very good condition. Obviously Henry VIII didn't manage to get his nasty hands on those.