Discovering Dunster

Tags

Bristol Channel, Dunster, Dunster Beach, Dunster Castle, Dunster Station, Dunster Steep, Exmoor Dark Sky Reserve, Morris dancing, National Trust, West Somerset Railway, Wheatear, Yarn Market

About 90 minutes away, on the north Somerset coast (shhhh), Dunster is a little far from me to just pop over to. I had been to the coastal village twice before, once passing though with a group when we stopped for a meal, in the Luttrell Arms I think, and another time taking the volunteer-run West Somerset Railway cream tea trip from Bishop’s Lydeard. But both were long ago, and all I could remember was that the village high street was very pretty, and that the walk up to the castle was very steep. I had never been to the beach, but have a friend who regularly goes there to spend a day or longer to unwind. With a day of fabulous weather in prospect and a short walk leaflet (Somerset – ex-County – Council) picked up at Taunton tourist office several months previously, I decided that yesterday was the day to find out more.

I thought that the beach car park would be really crowded on such a lovely day. I was wrong. When I arrived at 11.00, it was almost empty. Well, it was a school day.

The tide was out.

Faced with car parking charges for four hours or all day, I went for the latter, since I had not yet decided whether to visit the castle, and didn’t want to be worrying about rushing back. (I read later that the money is entirely used to maintain the groynes, rock armour and pebbles, which in turn protect the beach and coastline, so felt that in any case it was money well spent.)

The walk was roughly triangular, with an added walk around the village, and an optional haul up to the castle. It started with a grassy mile or so along the coast westwards. I was delighted to see scarlet pimpernel, among many other wildflowers.

I also enjoyed seeing the colourful imported pebbles.

The more so when there was a bird (a wheatear I think) perched on them.

I looked back over my right shoulder, still unable to see much sea.

With my camera on maximum zoom I could see there were a lot of birds at the water’s edge, including, as I can now make out, gulls, shelduck and a cormorant.

I was coming to the end of the beach part of the walk.

Mine was the footpath towards the station,

through Lower Marsh Farm,

and past The Old Manor,

where these three guard dogs did not frighten me.

In the course of all that time, I failed to get photos of two rabbits and two honking geese flying overhead. The geese flying, that is, not the rabbits.

Next was Dunster Station, lovingly maintained by those West Somerset Railway volunteers.

Then an underpass under the very busy A39, decorated by (presumably) local children.

There followed a ten-minute walk up the well-named Dunster Steep, (perhaps it was less, but it felt like ten minutes) before I arrived at that pretty High Street, where it seemed I had just missed a performance by some Morris Dancers.

I felt cheated that in order to reach the road at the end, up to the castle, I actually had to descend by a few metres.

It is difficult to show the real character of the old street, with its enormous variety of old buildings, because of all the cars parked on either side of it. But when I looked back I got this.

My intention by now was to go to the castle, have a bite to eat, then go round the its rooms. When I checked in at reception at the bottom of the mound, (but which had already involved quite a climb) I noticed that there was a courtesy bus, so hitched a ride in it.

It seemed to take an age and to be going very flat. Only on checking on the map that reception had given me did I realise that it had been going round and round the mound, and that, had I made a bit (well, a lot) more effort, I could probably have reached the entrance to the castle itself almost as quickly, since the absolute distance was not far at all!

There was a small café at the entrance in the gatehouse. But all it sold was cakes, ice-creams and drinks. Not what I had in mind. I checked with them whether there was another café, as I had read in the National Trust handbook. Yes, there was, for proper lunches. ‘It’s all downhill’, he said, by the watermill on the other side of the mound.

No way! I was not going down there only to have to make my way up again to see inside the castle! So I decided to visit first, and then make my way back to the village for some lunch afterwards.

Here are just a few of the many pictures I took inside.

The views from windows were spectacular.

Visitors were guided round a set route, and emerged via the conservatory onto the terrace and some fine gardens.

According to the map, there were some lovely outdoor paths to be explored, cleverly exploiting the mound, and another hour or so’s entertainment to be had, but I was getting hungry by now, so took just one which would lead me back to the village. It was beautiful.

At the bottom, had I turned left and taken West Street, I would in due course have found myself at the watermill and that café. Had I turned right, Church Street, I would be back in the High Street, and much nearer to resuming the set walk, and on to the beach. So I took the latter.

On the way, next to the church, I came across some gardens maintained by the villagers.

I just love ceanothus.

I stopped at a place in the High Street serving light lunches, and enjoyed a caramelised onion and goat cheese tart, sitting at a table on the pavement, enjoying the view of the picturesque buildings. And cars.

On the way out of the village I paid more attention to the Yarn Market,

the Luttrell Arms,

and the Yarn Market Hotel,

which seemed to be offering short stays to suit many interests: choral singing, jazz, stargazing, (the Exmoor Dark Sky Reserve is not far) and walking.

The recommended route, having guided one back via the underpass, indicates that the Riverside Jubilee Walk be taken. And what a pleasure it was. The river is very narrow, and shallow, but attracts much wildlife.

Indeed, I was surrounded by noisy birdsong, and sat on a handy bench for a while, just drinking it all in. (On reflection, the video I took should have moved much more slowly.) I think the main soloist is a robin.

Humble sparrows decorate white,

and yellow, blooms.

And a buzzard soared overhead, quartering the field. I was so pleased at not having to rush back to my car!

A moorhen made a lot of fuss, with much fluttering, perhaps to distract me from a brood?

When I saw this from a distance, I thought it was a child’s toy, left there to be recovered. But as I drew nearer, I could see that it was rather a decoration, probably just left there by a whimsical person. How delightful!

In due course I was back at Dunster Beach, and an ice-cream tempted me, successfully.

I had wondered if the tide would be back in on my return, but no, it was further out than ever. Not for nothing does the Bristol Channel boast that it has the second-greatest tidal range in the world, while never naming the first. (I’ve just looked it up. It’s the Bay of Fundy, Canada.)

What a lovely day!

‘The Destruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum’

Tags

DEstruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum, Edwin Athelstone, John Martin, John Singer Sargent, Pliny the Elder, Pliny the Younger, Royal Academy, Somerset Museum, South West Heritage Trust, Tate Britain, Tate Gallery, Taunton Castle, Tom Mayberry

This is the title of a huge painting by John Martin (1789-1854), currently on loan from the Tate Gallery to the Museum of Somerset, and on show there (Taunton Castle) until 1st June. Yesterday, as the first half of what was for me an art-full day, I went there to a talk about Martin, his friends, and his life (including local connections) given by the excellent Tom Mayberry, recently retired from his post of CEO to the South West Heritage Trust, after 43 years working there. Afterwards, Tom led us into the temporary exhibition space where the painting is on show.

It was perhaps appropriate that the talk should take place in what used to be the school room in the castle.

This is what greets the visitor to the exhibition. The image is a video, and a rather noisy one at that.

The exhibition comprises much-reduced photographic copies of some of his best-known works, and some text. The only original painting is that of the theme.

Martin’s humble origins meant that he was unable to follow a conventional artist’s training, and his individualistic propensity to portray huge dramatic settings and tiny figures, though frowned upon by the cognoscenti, was loved by the general public. Although some of his paintings were accepted by the Royal Academy, he was never invited to become a member.

One of his earliest successful works is The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Of those mentioned by Tom Mayberry, and reproduced photographically in the exhibition, Belshazzar’s Feast (160 x 249 cm) was one of my favourites – and apparently that of the Victorians.

A good friend of Martin, living in Taunton, was Edwin Athelstone, an epic poet of rather less talent than the artist. He often wrote poems to match his friend’s work, and as one approaches the painting, this extract from his 12-book poem on the volcanic disaster leads one to Martin’s work on one side.

On the other side is this extract from Pliny the Younger’s description of the eruption of Vesuvius, which he had observed, and in which his uncle, Pliny the Elder, perished.

The Destruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum is 160 cm by 250 cm. It was heavily damaged in the 1928 Thames Flood, and was restored brilliantly in 2011, using among other things Martin’s own smaller scale copy as a model. The colours here sadly do not in any way reflect the richness of the reds. My header picture, of the photographic reproduction, is somewhat more faithful.

Martin prepared a numbered diagrammatic guide to his painting.

He didn’t limit himself to painting. This plan for a metropolitan railway for London was ignored, but he foresaw what would come about decades later.

He also produced vast number of mezzotints, for a variety of settings.

His works are scattered all over the world, in public settings and in private hands. But a trilogy of his late works, also huge, are in the Tate Gallery, which I shall certainly make time to visit on a future visit to London.

An earlier work, 1841, was Pandemonium. The figure is Satan.

The exhibition concludes with a few parodies, including:

Except that the final piece of text is:

In the evening I went to a local showing of an Exhibition on Screen about the American painter, John Singer Sargent, and his beautiful works. While the commentary lauded his wonderful treatment of fabrics and fashion, I enjoyed as much how he captured the interesting faces of his subjects. The film was based on two exhibitions, one of which is currently on at Tate Britain until 7th July. (The Guardian reviewer hated it!)

Forest Lodge and Lower Shalford Farm

Tags

Forest Lodge, Lower Shalford Farm, National Garden Scheme, NGS, spring flowers, Wincanton

Last year I went twice to see the gardens at Forest Lodge, and once those at Lower Shalford Farm, both near Wincanton, south-east Somerset. The two open twice a year on the same day, on a joint entrance fee, under the National Gardens Scheme, and yesterday, Saturday 23rd March, was their first time in 2024. Friday’s weather was not bad, today’s quite reasonable, but yesterday it was foul! Vey cold, very windy, rain, hail showers, and just occasionally very brief glimpses of sun. But I wanted to see those gardens again. As I found, so did others, though not, I suspect, as many as would have done had the weather been better.

Anticipating that much of the time I would be having to cope with an open umbrella, I did not take my camera, and just used my phone to record a few views.

I started at Lower Shalford Farm, the owner greeting me with apologies and regrets. One of his main regrets was that many of the thousands of daffodils had already gone over in this extraordinary (becoming ordinary?) topsy-turvy weather pattern that is now erratically ours. He really didn’t need to apologise. By far the worst thing was the weather.

And there weren’t just daffodils.

After a while, it got very blustery indeed, presaging rain. I didn’t get very wet before making it to the tea room. And while I was in there, the sun came out and was radiant for a while. It had gone in again by the time I had finished my coffee.

But what a difference sunshine can make! I snatched this during a ten-second opportunity.

Shortly afterwards, I bumped into a bridge friend, Gill, who had a friend with her. I had recommended the gardens to my bridge four, and here was one of them.

I moved on to Forest Lodge. Firstly a general view from the terrace.

As on my previous visits, I did a sort of double circumference, outer, then inner.

From a distance this rhododendron looked like a dead tree decorated with baubles. Though the effect is not captured here, ‘they’ glowed in the grey light.

I was astonished to see a bluebell – just one that I noticed – so early. Now that really is topsy-turvy.

Not sure how long my outing would be, I had taken a snack to eat for lunch, which they were happy for me to eat there. I sat rather chilly on the terrace, though when the next shower came, I took what remained inside the conservatory, where I bought a coffee, and a very generous and very delicious chocolate brownie to round things off. Had it been warmer I might have walked round the garden again.

Later in the day, I learned that I had missed the two remaining members of our bridge four, each of whom had brought companions.

I shall return in May, for their second opening of the year, hoping that I may have with me a friend who was not well enough to come this time. And that it is warmer!

The Newt in Somerset – March 2024

Tags

Bird of Paradise flower, Peter Pan, The Newt in Somerset

For our March first Friday walk, Zoe and I chose to visit The Newt in Somerset – last Thursday. Here are some of the photos I took on that mainly bright, but chilly, Spring day.

We bought a coffee and took it into the greenhouse. The billionaire owner of The Newt is South African, and the Bird of Paradise is the national flower of his country.

I’ve not been able to identify this flower. Two ‘found its’ turned out to have totally dissimilar leaves. Suggestions would be welcome.

We set off on the ten-minute walk to the new Four Seasons garden.

It has not yet been inaugurated, and indeed there was one section we could not visit because of repair work going on. (Replacement of large trees which had not taken – such expense!)

You don’t go far in The Newt without finding somewhere to sit.

Water hawthorn, Aponogeton distachyos

A watery newt

Cast of the original Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens

Petticoat hoop daffodil, Narcissus bulbocodium

We still had plenty of time and continued walking.

Indeed, we sat at a high point to enjoy the sun and the view westwards.

The pigeons and doves had descended from the high perch they had chosen last time I was at The Newt, about six weeks previously.

We stopped at The Story of Gardening for a cuppa, and then continued via the edge of the area where deer are sometimes to be seen. I commented that it was a shame we hadn’t seen any this time. Zoe suggested I look backwards over my left shoulder. I’d never them in that spot before.

Zoe is to do a weekend course on lichen in a couple of months’ time, after which she will no doubt be able to name this one, not just give its general type: crustose, I think she said.

The marl pits

Given that snowdrops round here have been over for a while now, it was surprising to see some still out in this wooded area – or perhaps not, given that The Newt is pretty elevated and quite windy at times.

Stumpery

As we left via the Threshing Barn, we saw again the temporary decoration which had greeted us.

Its construction appears in the current ‘Newt Minute‘.

27 hours in Plymouth – 4. The Hoe

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Francis Drake, Plymouth, Plymouth Citadel, Plymouth Hoe, Plymouth Sound, Plymouth statues, Royal Air Force, South West Coast Path, Sutton Harbour, The Box Plymouth

I thought of completing my stay in Plymouth by moving on from the hotel and visiting The Box, Plymouth’s newly refurbished museum and art gallery, but felt that that would be too much of a good thing. A gentle walk westwards before making my way home appealed. The weather seemed set fair -ish.

From my starting point, the National Marine Aquarium,

I had to cross the swing footbridge one more. This time the weather was kind enough to enable me to stop and look inwards to Sutton Harbour.

My coastal stroll happened to be along a minute part of the South West Coast Path. The Citadel, an imposing 17th century fortress, still in use by the military today, may be visited. (No photography allowed!)

In minutes I was approaching Plymouth Hoe, where of course in 1588 Sir Francis Drake, on seeing the Spanish Armada in the distance, insisted on finishing his game of bowls before going on to defeat that fleet.

There are many statues and memorials on The Hoe (which means ‘high ground’). This is the Royal Air Force and Allied Air Forces Memorial, erected in 1989.

“The commands in …..Africa ….made great contributions towards final victory [in WWII].” That’s my RAF Dad.

The Armada Monument, built in 1888, celebrated 300 years after the celebrated defeat of the Spanish fleet, and is topped by a figure of Britannia.

The tallest monument by far is the Plymouth Naval Memorial, one of three such – the others are at Chatham and Portsmouth, and there are others elsewhere in the world – commemorating sailors and marines lost in the two World Wars with no known grave.

And finally, of course, there is a statue of Sir Francis Drake.

With time in hand before my paid-for car parking ran out, I sat down on one of the many benches to enjoy the view over Plymouth Sound.

Not for long. It started hailing! Up with brolly, and a hasty retreat in an easterly direction. The hail stopped after 30 seconds. And a couple of minutes later it started what I can only describe at ‘haining’ (since ‘railing’ is taken by another meaning – though I see that ‘hain’ and ‘haining’ exist in Scots). But there was no wind so I was able to cope with both umbrella and camera to take these two photos as I turned the corner back to the harbour.

All precipitations stopped as I approached the Leviathan and the swingbridge.

A final look back from near the Aquarium.

Well, that was a very packed 27 hours. Clearly Plymouth is a fascinating place, and merits a considerably longer stay. Shall I ever do it? There are so many other places elsewhere to explore…

27 hours in Plymouth – 3. National Marine Aquarium

Tags

Friday the turtle, National Marine Aquarium, octopus, Plymouth

The day dawned rather brighter, though my hotel window showed that it had rained overnight. I could see the subject of my morning’s entertainment across the middle of my view.

Four minutes’ walk from my hotel brought me to the National Marine Aquarium. (This is the back – it is the building with greenish windows in my photos taken across Sutton Harbour the previous day.)

From near the entrance to the museum can be seen the Citadel/Barbican across the water.

OK, let’s deal with one moan and one disappointment, and then enjoy the rest. Had there been an poster like this at the start, I would have learnt what the various zones I would walk through were. (Indeed I did not find this plan on their website, but by searching elsewhere.)

To quote their website, which I only looked at after my return, “Our Aquarium is made up of seven main zones, with lots of different exhibits and animals found in each. The way our Aquarium is laid out means you start your journey in the local waters of Plymouth Sound. The further you journey around the Aquarium, the further you journey around the world’s Ocean, finishing up in the stunning Great Barrier Reef.”

Knowing this would considerably have added to my understanding and therefore appreciation of what I was seeing. Instead of which, I could only read the occasional individual exhibit’s explanation and just enjoy the aesthetic experience – which of course I did.

The great disappointment was how my photographs turned out. Presumably because of ambient lighting, both in and outside the tanks, on most there is a pale to heavy blue or purply cast. This was not apparent to the naked eye. Colours were often absolutely stunning, and it is a huge drawback for me that I cannot share them here. I became aware of this phenomenon as I went round, and tried in my amateur way to make in-camera adjustments, to no avail, and similarly efforts with software on my computer make no difference either. Indeed I see from, for instance, the Aquarium’s own picture of the seagrass laboratory, (zones link) their professional photographers have the same problem. The lab equipment is all white or metallic in reality. Their other pictures are also unrealistically deep blue, and don’t do justice to the sea creatures. **

Complaints over. I started at the top, as guided, which I now know exhibited local shores. It was the only zone lit by daylight, at its beginning anyway.

The label said that the sting-bearing spines of these dragonets, which can hide in the sand, may stick up and be very painful on bare feet.

I got so frustrated with the deep purple cast on this photo, along a corridor, that I have turned it black and white. The main interest is the tiny hermit crabs.

The tentacles of these snakelocks anemones were a very pale green. Like most of the exhibits, they were displayed in a tank in the wall – at small child height. There were many many pre-school children there – and somehow they didn’t annoy me!

I loved the octopus, named Noodle I believe. Highly intelligent creatures, and it distresses me that they are about to be farmed in Spain.

I understand now why this area is called Eddystone, after the rocks and lighthouse a few miles off Plymouth. (From now on I shall almost cease commenting on the annoyingly false tints.)

A short corridor was devoted to seagrass, and just how important it is to marine life. There are well-named pipefish in among it here.

Some years ago a whole, and purpose-built, aircraft was assembled, taken apart, and put together again in situ in order to create an artificial reef.

This was one of my favourite exhibits, with seahorses about 4 inches/10 cm long, and little razor fish

This fish was bright yellow and black!

And this creature was fluorescent lemon yellow!

Yes, yellow, but much more vibrant than this.

I was intrigued that these small fish seemed to enjoy being in a ball.

But then they would break up for a while and swim away, only to regroup shortly afterwards.

When I reached the end, having taken nothing like the three hours recommended, I realised that I had missed a celebrity who featured a lot in the TV programmes*, Friday, the turtle. So I decided to go round again, having asked where I might find him.

I spent a lot of time with Noodle, willing her, smiling at her (octopuses are very intelligent after all) to come out of her cave. In due course she obliged.

I arrived at the tank where Friday was, …

He proved very elusive, not swimming near the glass, and staying near the top. I took many very bad photos of him and this is the ‘best’, which at least shows the reflection of his back on the surface of the tank.

I also stayed a little while with the seahorses, before heading for the café and a bite of lunch.

Perhaps it’s a well about the colour distortion. This post would have been sooo much longer otherwise.

Two hours left on my parking…

* As explained in the first part of this series, I was inspired to visit the National Marine Aquarium by a BBC TV series, ‘Secrets of the Aquarium’ which aired in November last year. It is available on BBC iPlayer until this coming November.

** Later edit. I’ve now had this from the Aquarium:

Thank you for contacting us and we are so pleased you had an enjoyable time. 

The bluey cast from photos is most likely down to the lighting in the building. We have been rolling out new coloured lighting in order for visitors to feel more immersed in the surroundings. Another factor may be the camera you are using.

We are currently in the process of generating a new map, however the building is a pain to map out, so it is proving difficult! We apologise for the inconvenience and hopefully we will have one up and running very soon!

Thank you for publishing the blog!

27 hours in Plymouth – 2. The Mayflower Museum

Tags

Barbican Prawn, Leviathan, Mayflower, Mayflower II, Mayflower Museum, Mayflower Steps, Plymouth, Sutton Harbour, Thanksgiving, Wampanoag

No sooner installed at my hotel by Sutton Harbour, I set off on foot for the Mayflower Museum.

Once I had passed the National Marine Aquarium, just four minutes away and the next day to be the main focus of my visit to Plymouth, I was to cross the harbour entrance by a swing footbridge – the gate to which swung closed just as I arrived at it …

… in order to let this through into the harbour.

But I didn’t have to wait long and, two blustery and stormy minutes later, (taking photos from the swing bridge was impossible in the circumstances) I arrived at the museum.

The visit started at the top floor.

It has quite recently been redone to draw more attention to the original peoples in the US who were displaced or who died as a result of missions like that of the Mayflower. The focus is on, but not exclusively, the Wampanoag people.

These are some of the Wampanoag descendants.

These pivoting blocks show faces and, on the back, names and dates of Mayflower descendants.

There was a short film on the sufferings of some of the native people.

The next floor down, the second (in British parlance), is about the actual voyage of the Mayflower. I hadn’t realised before that she started off in tandem with the Speedwell, which carried migrants from the Netherlands. The Speedwell soon became unseaworthy, so both turned back, and in due course the Mayflower took the Dutch refugees as well. 102 passengers plus crew, in a ship only twice the length of a modern-day coach.

The stories of some are featured. Those, and even the names, of others are unknown.

Of necessity the story is told almost entirely in text, interestingly so, and there is much to keep children occupied while parents are reading. – though I had the place almost to myself that day.

The first floor recounts commemorations of the voyage.

(Nancy Astor again, featuring on a timeline.)

1920

A replica, Mayflower II, was built in 1957. Here is a fascinating contemporary black and white film, 8’37”, about it.

Just outside the museum are the Mayflower Steps. THe original steps have long gone.

This curious creature is the Leviathan, also known locally as the ‘Barbican Prawn’. (The Citadel, or Barbican, is nearby.)

I decided to return to my hotel the long way, that is to walk round Sutton Harbour rather than use the swing footbridge. The weather seemed to have settled down for a while. I found myself on the Mayflower Trail for three of its dozen or so points.

At one point the sun burst through the grey gloom.

It was VERY low!

And was near to setting.

Which it did shortly after I got back to my room.

27 hours in Plymouth – 1. Saltram

Tags

Broadwood, moorhen, Nancy Astor, National Trust, Plymouth, Robert Adam, Romulus and Remus, Saltram, Secrets of the Aquarium, square piano

No-one I’ve mentioned them to had even heard of the six BBC TV programmes which aired in the weeks before Christmas, ‘Secrets of the [National Marine] Aquarium’ (available until November on BBC iPlayer). I had loved them, and they inspired to go to Plymouth to visit the attraction myself last week. I didn’t fancy four hours’ driving in one day as well as making the visit, so I decided to make an overnight stay of it. I had never been to the city before, other than driving through it last year on my way to Cornwall, via the Torpoint Ferry across the Tamar.

I couldn’t book into my hotel until 3 pm, so decided to have lunch at and visit the National Trust property, Saltram House in the Plymouth area on the way. With wild weather warnings, and flooded roads near my home, I was not looking forward to the drive to Devon, and indeed it turned out not to be pleasant, mainly because of all the spray churned up by big lorries on the motorway, as well as teeming rain for much of the time. But I wasn’t really delayed, and arrived around midday. I decided to visit the house before eating.

As I dashed under my umbrella through the rain from car park to reception, I observed what was for me a complete novelty: moorhens running around on the tarmacked surface just as pigeons would. Hitherto I had only ever seen them on water, often among reeds. I was sorry not to be able to take photos of them in the circumstances.

The house was not fully open, as deep cleaning of parts, including the saloon, was taking place. The guide who greeted me said that, unusually, the house’s furnishings were just as the Parker family had left them when they handed the house over to the Treasury in 1957 in lieu of death duties. Normally, in such circumstances, furniture and furnishings would be removed and sold for the benefit of the public purse, but the local former MP, Nancy Astor, (the first woman to take a seat in the House of Commons, from 1919 to 1945), had successfully argued against this here. (The link reveals more about her which some may find less agreeable.)

I’m not sure I really liked the lighting effect in the beautiful classical entrance hall.

At each corner of the staircase was a magnificent mahogany candelabrum.

I couldn’t help but be impressed by the luxurious feel underfoot as I walked up. I would guess that the carpet is a recent replacement.

Chinoiserie was abundant in many of the rooms. This wallpaper was made by hand.

But this was machine-made, somewhat later.

In the sitting room one was invited to play this 18th century Broadwood square piano, on loan to Saltram specifically for that purpose!

I loved the blue porcelain, and am a sucker for anything green, especially this shade.

In a corridor on the ground floor were displayed many tributes by groups of local people to generations of the Parker family, whose heads had become Earls of Morley by the 19th century.

Romulus and Remus

These next two pieces of furniture were in the mirror room – along with more chinoiserie.

The best was last (though the Robert Adam saloon, closed at present is said to be magnificent). I found the library to be breathtaking. These next two photos were taken from the same spot. I had just come through the door, which would be disguised if closed.

Some may recognise this piece of music. It’s been an earworm for me for a couple of days.

So many tables on which to be entertained by so many games – no telly in those days.

But how’s this for an idea? A backward-facing chair on which to sit astride and read!

The sun had come out just before I left the house, so I took a backward look at its closed east wing as I made my way down the short distance to the stable block and the cafe. It had started raining again before I got there.

As I ate my lunch I had a good view of the duck pond, and took these pictures as I passed it on my way back to my car afterwards. The rain kindly held off for a few minutes and I was able to take some photos this time – including of those wandering moorhens.

Never have I previously seen a moorhen pecking at the ground.

Still less have I ever seen one with a worm in its beak and being chased by two others (see top left) for the prize. It was not the least bit concerned by my presence, and eventually took refuge under a car right by me to eat its well-earned meal.

Behind the scenes at Stourhead

Tags

Behind the Scenes, Hoare's Bank, National Trust, Stourhead

National Trust property, Stourhead, is about a hour’s drive from my home. I had visited it before, but only when the gardens were at their best. The house is currently closed for the winter – except for ‘Behind the Scenes’ volunteer-led tours, which must be pre-booked. So that was where I was yesterday morning, Thursday 8th February.

After a journey along roads awash with rain which had fallen during the night and which sodden fields had been unable to absorb, and lined with banks of snowdrops, there a was a 10-minute walk to the house from reception, and I was greeted by many more snowdrops.

About a dozen of us were greeted by two volunteers in the entrance hall. We saw many people at work in and on the house.

We were given a brief history of the house, which was built in by Sir Henry Hoare I, the son of Sir Richard Hoare, founder of Hoare’s Bank in 1672. It was passed down through the generations until it reached Sir Henry Ainslie Hoare. He gave it to the National Trust in 1947, his son having been killed in WWI. There are still a few people living in various apartments in the building, mainly to do with the Trust, but there is still one apartment for the use of the Hoare family. 

The central portion of the house was gutted by fire in 1902; the wings were spared. Restoration, by the last Hoare to live there, was quick, and and fairly faithful to the original Palladian design, paid for by insurance which was, apparently, a rare thing in those days.

We had to pass through the Inner Hall to get Behind the Scenes, where we were told that one thing not faithful to the original was a double staircase, much desired by Lady Alda, wife of Sir Henry Ainslie Hoare, in placed of a single one. Unfortunately there was not really the space for the double one, so it is rather cramped and steep.

Before leaving the Inner Hall, we could just see into one of the public rooms, closed for the winter.

Once in the private areas, light was quite low. The camera has lightened these images, but at the expense of precision, unfortunately.

The doors of these first three rooms remained closed, but we were shown into the furniture store. (The Quarantine store is where, for example, furniture treated for disease, etc, is kept for years to ensure total sterilisation.)

This, at the time the main bedroom, was where the 1902 fire had started, in the chimney from its fireplace. Staff had managed to save most of the furniture and artefacts from downstairs. Furniture now stored here is rotated regularly with that on display.

The Lady’s Maid’s room was quite large, being where she worked as well as slept. This was just one of the rooms which had been laid out, speculatively, specifically for the Behind the Scenes tour. Frustratingly, there was no time to read the information panels!

I did wonder what a Spare Maid was!

The Nursery, with its windows higher than child’s or even adult’s eye level, to prevent distraction from schoolwork, was being used by conservationists. I’d love to have known what they were working on, but that was not our purpose.

Next it was up to the poky top floor, and the lesser servants’ rooms.

A room had been laid out to show a typical maid’s quarters.

Next we went down a ‘new’ internal staircase, installed by the National Trust to meet fire regulations. It took us to the ground floor.

The present wood store was used to store coal.

It would seem that the kitchen is not on show to regular visitors. Even back in WWII, the officers billeted on the building preferred to use their own field kitchen!

Then it was down to the cellar. First we saw the barrel run. Wooden slats were inserted (see holes at the side) to help smooth the passage of the barrels, carefully handled by several men.

The cellar still serves its original purpose it would seem.

At the end of our tour we were back in the Inner Hall, where a table had been laid out showing conservators’ materials. I really must do one of the Trust’s conservation tours one of these days.

Although it was drizzling as I left the house, I had a little wander around the adjacent gardens, pleased to see signs of spring arriving.

It also gave a lovely side view of the house

The way back to the reception area was through the kitchen garden and past a stand of young birches.

A bowl of parsnip and apple soup at the café, and the purchase of some cards, some hellebores, and some narcissi completed my early spring visit to Stourhead.

The Newt in Somerset – January 2024

Tags

dovecot, fallow deer, Newt in Somerset, pied wagtail, Storm Eunice, Story of Gardening, The Newt in Somerset, Villa Ventorum, Wyvern

This month is the fourth anniversary of my first exploration of the site, a few months after it first opened to the public. So many additions since then, I reflected, as I returned there last Friday, 26th January: the Story of Gardening, the Roman Villa and its museum, the wildflower bank, a small Japanese garden, the Four Seasons garden, what I call ‘the country walk’ with its various divertissements, including the Wyvern’s grotto on the way, and a second luxury hotel.

I arrived at 2 pm, the sun low in an almost cloudless sky.

Trees accompany the boardwalk from car park to entrance

I was there just for a walk on familiar paths, mainly in opposite directions from those I had taken in previous visits. The whole site is so huge, it would take the best part of three days to do it all justice and spend quality time in all the attractions.

In January, one does not expect to see much colour, but the cottage garden is attractive at any season.

As are the formal gardens (the Garden Cafe on the left).

I entered the Parabola, with its hundred of apple trees, intending to leave it on the other side, but that was blocked off for works, so I turned round…

… to be amused for a minute or so by a pied wagtail taking a bath in one of the rills.

I walked round the outside of the Parabola, and had another view of the formal gardens…

… and shortly afterwards was overlooking, left to right, the fowl house, a kitchen garden, and what is called the bathing pond, though I have only ever seen visiting ducks using it for that purpose.

On the path were some fowl though,

and many more within the hedge.

A few minutes later, I was visiting the wyvern in its grotto. It was good to see it with its head firmly attached. On several previous occasions, I have seen it with head hanging off, children having too violently taken up a mischievous invitation to stroke its nose, which used to produce a ‘flame’ from its mouth. This facility no longer exists (I tried) but a spasmodic roaring replaces the fear factor.

A look back over the newt pond towards the hub

A recently added feature is this waterfall, which I don’t think really works, but sideways on, glistening in the sunlight, it had its appeal.

I’d not noticed this carving before – perhaps it’s new. They’re always adding new things at The Newt.

The prospect of going up this bank, even on a very safe path, was just a little daunting – I’d always walked down it before – but it turned out to be not nearly as bad as I feared.

And this was the view from the top, well into Dorset. The furthest hills were perhaps 50 miles/80 kilometres away.

Four years ago, I could just see from a distance this dovecot in construction, with no access allowed, and there was not a glimmer – except no doubt in the minds of the owners – of the Roman Villa. They have named the latter the Villa Ventorum, for its very windy location.

When you go inside the dovecot, you may or may not see many doves and pigeons in their niches. No problem seeing some today, enjoying the sun on the top of their house.

A closer view of the Roman Villa. A (free) visit here has to be booked in advance, and 2 to 2 1/2 hours allowed to see it and the splendid museum properly.

I always wonder whether I shall see deer at The Newt. It’s been a while since the red deer have revealed themselves to me, but the fallow deer were there in abundance – see header picture for the full herd.

What first looked like a modern sculpture turned out to be a fallen tree trunk.

A more modern tree collapse was brought about by Storm Eunice in February 2022. The 120-year-old beech is being left for nature to do its work. Each time I see it I am amazed at how shallow its roots are/were.

Totally concealed, from the west, is the Story of Gardening, just emerging from its bank as I approach it from the south.

It offered tea and cake just when I was thinking I could do with refreshment.

Although there had been just a satisfactory scattering of people in the grounds as I walked round, the cafe was quite full. I wonder how many had been round the exhibition? I have done it twice, with friends, and would like to do it again some time, perhaps on my own. It is very interesting. But today was not the day.

You don’t have to leave the building via The Viper, but it is fun. It wobbles a little if others are walking on it…

Whichever way you approach it, the supports do appear to be hanging in mid air. But that is definitely an optical illusion!

Through a little woodland to the Marl Pits…

..and I’m back at the hub.

And on my way back to the car park it is pleasing to see these signs of spring.

A very pleasant couple of hours.