Cornwall 3- 12. The Eden Project

Tags

Cornwall, Eden Project, Infinity Blue, Madagascar, Mediterranean Biome, old coffee machine, Rainforest Biome, Vanilla

I was homeward bound on Saturday, 11th September, but could not let pass the opportunity to visit on the way this world-renowned project. I had a booking for 11.00. My satnav the evening before told me that I would need 90 minutes to get there, which surprised me somewhat, but I allowed two hours. As I left my BnB at 9.00 it was saying I would need 65 minutes – the difference between Friday evening and Saturday morning traffic I suppose. But thank goodness I had all that leeway. There were huge hold-ups on the A30, due I think to road closures elsewhere, with traffic being funnelled on to this road. In the event I arrived just 10 minutes before my ticket’s time.

It was quite a walk between my car park down to the entrance – but not so far that I qualified for the shuttle bus. Just one more car park up and …

I find I have 108 photos, and have found it incredibly difficult to make a selection. I have only managed to cut them down to 58 – sorry – and they give only a glimpse into what was to be seen.

Here’s the plan from my pre-ordered guide. I should like to have been able to sit down and study it in greater depth before going round, but things were well-labelled.

Basically, I wandered around the Outdoor Gardens and then the Crops, which I think is how it is intended you should, then visited first the Rainforest Biome, followed by the Mediterranean one (only about a third the area, but with a few more species), then went along the Avenue to the Core. I seem to have missed the Zigzag through Time, and I don’t think I did justice to the Invisible Worlds.

My photos are largely without commentary.

I think this next picture is my very favourite of the day.

This queue (note one person peeling off left)…

… was for this. Good fun!

There was a link corridor, with shops and café, to the …

About 15 minutes into the Rainforest Biome, there was a notice warning people who were finding it too hot to turn back, as it was another 30 minutes to the exit. (A one-way system was in operation with little byways roped off, presumably because of Covid.) The Mediterranean Biome was also hot, in a lovely dry Mediterranean way, but I was very pleased to find this almost unpatronised drinks bar near its exit. Time for a chilled elderflower cordial.

Frim time to time there was a swooshing sound from above. I had just days ago watched Chris Packham and Megan McCubbin on television on a zipline, and thought, ‘How I would love to do that!’. And here would have been my opportunity! If I had known in advance about the possibility here, I would definitely have looked into it. As it was, I picked up a leaflet when I left.

‘Infinity Blue’ and, to a lesser extent, ‘Seed’ were the two main attractions in the Core.

Perfect smoke (or rather vapour) rings every time. They represent Oxygen.

‘Seed’ was about twice my height.

‘Infinity Blue’ from an upper floor. In about a decade it may be lowered into the sea as a reef habitat for marine life. (It’s not crooked, my camera was.)

Up a lift, across a bridge, and it was back to the entrance/visitor centre/exit…

… for a coffee before setting off on the rest of my journey home. I was amused to see this old coffee making machine on display, sadly not in use.

How to reflect on eight such days? I was absolutely shattered for a while after my return, but so happy to have spent my time so fully. Cornwall is a such a beautiful place, with so much to explore and experience. I tried, and I think I succeeded, not to let an underlying fear of Covid spoil my enjoyment, though it was unnerving to see so many people, freed of legal obligation, appearing to believe that if they did not wear masks indoors the risk was only to themselves, not to others. But it was heartening also to see how many did wear masks, especially those serving, in whatever setting.

I have to go back. I have to make that helicopter trip. I have to use more those various guides to archology, geology, walks, built places to visit. My Eden Project ticket is valid for a year! (I could – perhaps – go on that zipline…) I’m already thinking that I may take another holiday in the county next June, perhaps based at Hayle this time.

Cornwall 3 – 7. Tremenheere Sculpture Gardens

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Dolphin Penzance, James Turrell, Michael Chaikin, Michael Johnson, Penny Saunders, Penzance, Penzance Harbour, Peter Randall-Page, Philip Rae Scott, Phoenix masted brig, Phoenix square rig, Richard Long, Shelia Williams, Tremenheere, Vong Phaphanit

The signpost I had noticed on my way to St Michael’s Mount, on Tuesday 7th September, was for the Tremenheere Sculpture Gardens. I spent a happy hour-plus wandering around. There were several sculptures to be seen even before reaching the hard-to-find reception kiosk.

This colourful bench was by the ticket shed, the dappled sunlight adding to the effect.

Shelia Williams, ‘Winter Heliotrope’

More Cornish large lushness

Michael Johnson, ‘Wall of Taps’

A dragonfly pretending it’s not there.

You had to walk right into this sculpture, an oval room open to the sky, with an ante-room. It would appear that it was inspired by the sculptor’s Quaker background. I took this sitting on the ledge.

James Turrell, RA, ‘Tewlwolow Kernow’, twilight in Cornwall. Here’s a blog someone wrote about it after a visit when the sky was blue.

View from near the furthest point of the gardens. St Michael’s Mount can be seen peering over the shoulder of the trees.

Richard Long RA, ‘Tremenheere Line’

Philip Rae Scott, ‘Crypto-Synthesis’

These towered over me.

Peter Randall-Page RA, ‘Slip of the Lip’. The whole is about 2 metres across.

Vong Phaphanit, ‘Field of Rods’

Having finished my tour, I bought a hot chocolate from the snacks kiosk. I sat on the base of Michael Chaikin’s ‘Tree of Life’ and was mesmerised by Penny Saunders’s ‘Restless Temple’. The longer I watched it, the more I realised that it was not mechanically driven, and that its angle of drunkenness was entirely dependent on the strength of the breeze.

I heard a buzzard mewling.

And realised there was a second.

My last stop was at Penzance Harbour. I had by now driven past it thrice, and did not want to let the week pass without exploring it on foot. Combined with a visit to a Post Office for some stamps to put on three postcards I had bought on St Michael’s Mount, this was time efficiently spent, I felt!

It was this that really attracted me to the harbour.

Sadly, it was not possible to get really close, as there was another boat in the way. Men were working very hard on, apparently, restoring and adapting her.

But I was able to take a photo of his rather worn panel.

In her present state she would not be fit to star in anything. I’d have loved to find out more from the workers, but they were – probably deliberately – not lifting their heads, and in any case they were quite far away. I have managed to find out that she left Charleston, Cornwall, around two years ago, headed for Liverpool, and that she arrived in Penzance, probably to be her permanent home, in February of this year. I wonder where Portsmouth fits in.

The Dolphin is a favoured eating place.

As I returned to my car, I noted that the very inner part of the harbour is now a swimming pool at high tide,

and loved the action of a devoted father pulling his children around in the boat.

Another full day, and a happy return to Chiverton House. The weather forecast was not so good for the next day…

Cornwall 3 – 5. Trengwainton Garden

Tags

Bolitho, National Trust, slave trade, Trengwainton

Trengwainton Garden (National Trust) was my destination for the Monday afternoon, despite my very tired legs and feet. My plan was to have a gentle stroll around the gardens and then have a drink in the tea-room at the end. Sadly, the last part was thwarted, as the tea-room shut at 3.00 (staff shortage?). But the tea-tray in my room at my BnB was only minutes away.

The entry was at G below, right. I first explored the walled gardens, then went along the main avenue (gently ascending but not gently enough!) to the lawns by the main house, and returned via the woodland area with the stream running though it.

Proof of acid soil or what!

As everywhere I went in Cornwall, my impression was ‘lush and large’ with a dash of exoticism.

I wondered what this huge tree with red flowers could possibly be.

A close up with my camera revealed that it was a fuchsia.

And reaching its origins, I saw that the fuchsia was supported by a sequoia.

The house itself is still owned and lived in by the family that bought it in the 19th century, and a discreet rope keeps the public at bay.

I had been told at reception that the views from up here were ‘spectacular’. She didn’t know where I had been in the morning!

An original orientation table

What a shame!

There were several benches up by the lawns, but it took a while for one to be vacated, and how my legs were longing to sit down. Eventually I was able to rest on this bench. I’ve been unable to find anything about the coat of arms – but I have a plea out to the Fleur-de-Lys History Society by social media!

I was intrigued by the apparently perfect square shape of the hole in this trunk.

It turned out not to be a perfect square, and to contain some fascinating fungi.

Back through the tree ferns of the woodland area. I was reminded of my trip with a friend to Tasmania.

One final picture near the entrance.

When eating my huge sandwich at Perranuthnoe at lunchtime, I had been sitting on a bench, with a local woman at the other end. When I told her of my plan for the afternoon, she told me I would learn of the slavery connections of Trengwainton. I didn’t, but, local paper style, it is here. A more sober account, part of a very long description of the property, is by Historic England.

The coolness of the mainly shady gardens of Trengwainton had been most welcome, on the hottest day of my stay in Cornwall. The rest of the week remained largely dry, during the day, but at times was very misty.

I slept well that night.

Cousins’ meet-up in Somerset

Tags

Charlemagne, Covid, Eden Project, Hadspen HOuse, Tesremosnitweneht, The Newt in Somerset, The Story of Gardening

The Newt in Somerset, to be precise. I hadn’t seen my cousin Mary, who lives in Croydon, for several years, so her love of gardens and gardening, along with the fact that I had a garment to hand over that I had knitted for her, gave the perfect pretext for us to get together last Friday, 20th August, in one of my favourite local places.

South West Trains brought her in perfectly on time to Templecombe Station, which is about 15 minutes’ drive from The Newt (also served by GWR to Castle Cary, just five minutes’ away). We started with the obligatory coffee, bought from the Cyder Bar, and studied the plan of the grounds.

By then, we had just 30 minutes or so before our lunch reservation at the Garden Café, and Mary opted to visit The Parabola, which features hundreds of varieties of apples, and I suggested that the kitchen garden would nicely fill the rest of the time.

(I covet Mary’s bag, which she told me she found in a charity shop.)

Not only apples are grown in The Parabola, so named for its shape.

To get to the kitchen garden, you go past the huge wildflower area,

and through a tunnel, which I’ve seen develop from not there, to there but plantless, to supporting small nameless plants,

to producing many different varieties of gourds.

The kitchen garden goes in for a lot of companion planting.

The view from our lunch table, showing well the parabolic shape

It was time to make our way to The Story of Gardening. No time to wait for this deer to lift its head.

We could have just walked down the slope to the entrance, but instead went the slightly longer way round on the slightly vibrating walkway,

from which we saw these deer.

I think this selection of photographs does not too much replicate the visit I made with my friend Mary four weeks previously!

We are not holding mobile phones, but the gadget with its white aerial, which knew exactly where we were and therefore which commentaries to offer us, and from which we could choose using the little shovel-shaped labels.

Interactive panels about famous gardeners abounded. Who knew that Charlemagne was among them?

Mary was very envious of the Victorians for their greenhouses.

I have a booking for the Eden Project in three weeks’ time.

Four weeks ago, I assumed that these smell horns would not (because of Covid) be working. This time they certainly were.

On the long Tool Wall, I was attracted to these many balls of string, all apparently made by the same company.

It was time to move back to real plants, mainly flowers, once we had visited the cactus house.

The Cottage Garden

The Victorian Fragrance Garden

Mary pointed out toxic Monk’s Hood to me.

Part of the White Garden, near to the Red and Blue Gardens

The beginning of The Cascade

Hadspen House, now a luxury hotel

The view from the same spot 180 degrees round. The far pool retains its historic name of the Bathing Pool, though I think paddling would be all it enables, now anyway.

The Fowl House, within the Lower Egg

Back through The Parabola,

where Mary got the joke before I did.

After a visit to the farm shop, where we bought freshly ground coffee, and bottles of the pink cyder of which we had been given small samples at lunch, we made our way to the Cyder Bar, where we enjoyed glasses of The Newt’s delicious chilled fresh lemonade.

A final look round the tropical greenhouse, and it was time to take Mary to my place, from where her brother (a third first cousin – I only have five! – met within 11 days!) picked her up from her to spend the night of his and his partner’s house.

Cerney House Gardens

Tags

Cerney Gardens, Cerney HOuse Gardens, Ice house, peacock butterfly, Squirrel, Walled garden

I’ve written about the music course under the auspices of the Gloucestershire Academy of Music that I was on a couple of weeks ago. I’ve written about the funny turn I had while there. Here are the pictures of the gardens I visited on Monday’s afternoon off.

Cerney House is just a couple of miles down the road from Rendcomb College, where the course was taking place. It belongs to the Angus family. I spend a happy hour or so wandering, with the aid of a loaned printed guide, around the large walled garden and it several ‘rooms’, and then out into the parkland to the side and front of the house.

Entrance to walled garden on the left

Up into the medicinal plant garden, with it many suggested cures.

This is just part of it.

Some labels were on slate, some on board, with explanations.

And out again

Part of the Potting Shed Shop. I didn’t buy anything, since it would be several days before I would be home.

Orange, purple and green offset each other so well.

Out of the walled garden into the parkland

This was an extraordinary tree, fallen clearly many years ago, and still flourishing.

A romantic glimpse of the house

Mildred and an uninvited guest

Mildred is very old and recently lost her husband, Frank. She is glad of the company of three other ducks. The notice saying so didn’t say what she thought of the squirrel.

Ice house

A proud peacock (butterfly) right by my parked car.

A delightful break from the noisy course!

The Newt in Somerset – July 2021 (2) The Story of Gardening

Tags

Hadspen HOuse, Penelope Hobhouse, The Newt in Somerset, The Story of Gardening

The celebrated garden writer and designer, Penelope Hobhouse, (b. 1929), at one time married into the family and having had a great influence on the restoration of Hadspen House’s gardens in the 1960s, wrote a book called ‘The Story of Gardening‘. Was it in tribute to her, in ignorance, or for some other reason that the museum in the grounds of what is now called The Newt in Somerset bears the same name?

Last Friday, my friend Mary and I, as part of our visit to The Newt (see previous post), spent the best part of an hour looking round this museum. Its external setting is well described here. Inside it consists, on the left-hand side, of a long, very wide corridor, with a wall of tools and including central island exhibits, and on the right-hand side a series of nine rooms, with a further, much narrower corridor, fully glazed, beyond them on the right, so that you have access to the rooms from both sides.

When you arrive you are given an audioguide, for one ear only. It works on the same principle as a satnav/GPS system, except that it’s a Building Positioning System. It knows where you are and offers you various options to learn more, relevant to that very point, referenced by the little numbered trowel indicators that are discreetly everywhere. If you listened to all of them you’d be there for hours, and I fully intend to do just that (well, perhaps not all of them) before too long.

Here are some of the pictures I took, in order. You start in the entrance hall, and we missed the commentary on the short initial film because we hadn’t quite twigged at the very outset, despite being told by reception, how the audioguide worked.

The first room is behind the green ‘hedge’

The first island is about various soils.

There were inserts like this outside every room

The (his)story started with classical times,

and moved through the time and geography.

This island was about scent. In normal times you would put your nose up to the cone, and squeeze the puffer. I didn’t try it, and my assumption in any case was that it would not be in operation in present circumstances.

This island was about animals.

Great gardeners were celebrated.

This island, the theme of which was ‘colour’ was a real curiosity. This is roughly how the human eye saw it, all the time.

But as I was taking my eye away from the viewfinder of my camera, which showed the picture I had just taken, I noticed that the image captured was this:

So I took another…

And another…

Only on my fourth essay did my camera faithfully reflect what my eye saw, and shown first here. I expect there’s some scientific explanation about white light being made up of the spectrum of colours, but I’m intrigued.

The last area in the museum concerned modern gardens and gardening, and featured what is going on in Singapore a lot.

It was time to return to the entrance, taking the long, wide corridor, passing its islands on the left this time.

I shall return – and spend a lot more time there!

The Newt in Somerset – July 2021 (1)

Tags

Hadspen HOuse, Hobhouse, roe deer, Story of Gardening, The Newt in Somerset

It is nearly two years since my London friend, Mary, and I tried to visit The Newt in Somerset together, but in August 2019 the weather was so awful that we diverted to the Haynes International Motor Museum nearby instead. And, as I vaguely recall, that itself had been a second attempt. Then of course along came you-know-what.

Last Friday was the first time I had seen Mary since February 2018, when, given the time of year, our estate visit had been to see the daffodils of Stourhead, (National Trust). So at last we made it to the Newt last Friday.

The timing of Mary’s train was such that we had only time to check in and brush up before the very early lunch I had had to book, all later times having been taken. As we stood on the terrace of the Garden Café,

we noticed a helicopter parked in the field.

(Clip from previous photo)

My guess is that this belonged to a guest at the very up-market hotel that is now Hadspen House, former seat of the Hobhouse family. Or possibly the billionaire South African recent purchaser of the estate, who has turned it into the present attraction, was visiting.

Lunch was delicious. The cuisine is superb. This is just our starters – Mary has yet to pour the cucumber soup into her bowl.

It was a long time before we emerged and started to explore how The New expressed itself in July. As ever, I took an enormous number of photos, of which this is a small selection.

The Cottage Garden

The marigolds were blinding in real life.

Hadspen House, now a luxury hotel, in the background

We had a reservation for the recently opened ‘Story of Gardening’ for 2.40, so started making our way towards the deer park where it is situated. This involved going past this wildflower bank (and picnic area), which is very new. I had not seen it in flower before.

One of the entrances to The Parabola, home to hundreds of apple trees.

We were nearing the deer park, when I heard my name called from behind me. It was Daphne, my bridge partner, and her husband, Andy. I was thrilled to be able to introduce my friends to each other, and to stop for a short chat.

We did not take the high walkway through the trees to get to the museum entrance, but a short cut down the mound

Here is the other end of The Viper, as I now know the walkway is known, for its sinuous shape.

One side of the museum is glazed, the other set into the steep bank, so windowless.

The Story of Gardening needs a whole post to itself, so that will follow. Mary and I spent the best part of an hour there, and then made our way back to the entrance area.

En route we saw two roe deer. There are two herds of deer in the grounds, and it is a treat to see any of them. These two individuals were quite unperturbed to have visitors walking close by.

To think they grow and lose those antlers afresh each year!

A little sit down in a woodland area …

… was followed by a long sit-down over glasses of iced coffee as we continued putting the world to rights, (though perhaps a more accurate description might be marvelling at the stupidity of those whose task it is to do so). We heard a noisy noise. I leapt up to see:

The helicopter we had seen earlier had been joined by a second, but was leaving alone.

We had another 30 minutes or so before throwing out time. Mary wandered off at one point to take some more photographs, while I ventured into the greenhouse, which was also a coffee bar the first time I had visited, and then sat watching human and avian life go by.

What a lovely day!

Mendip Hospital Cemetery

Tags

Friends of the Mendip Hospital Cemetery, Gilbert Scott, harp, Lady's bedstraw, Mendip Hospital, Mendip Hospital Cemetery, Peter Jaggard, Rees Mogg

On Christmas Day last year I took a walk around the old Mendip Hospital, South Horrington, near Wells, now converted into luxury flats, and wrote it up. At the time I regretted that I had been unable to find out much of its history, but had found something on the hospital’s cemetery, now a nature reserve, and wanted to visit it one day, the Friends of the Mendip Hospital Cemetery opening it to the public on summer Sundays. I finally got around to doing so yesterday, the hottest day of the year so far. I read up on its history again.

The right-hand red dot in the picture above is Peter Jaggard, Chair of the Friends. We had a brief chat before I wandered round the reserve, and a much longer one afterwards, before I went into the chapel to find out more about ‘it’s history’, which I took to be that of the cemetery.

Lady’s Bedstraw

There were very few headstones, which cost more money than could (or would) be found by relatives, if indeed there were any relatives known. In the early days, graves were not marked at all. After a while a numbered metal marker was used to mark each grave. However, although the names of every person buried there is known, is is not possible to identify which marker belongs to each person. The markers were moved and gathered in clumps together long before the Friends became responsible for the cemetery.

There were a few wood sculptures around the reserve. I learned later that all had been carved by one member, Peter Bolton, and each from the trunk of a dead tree, some still rooted in the ground, carved on the spot.

I think this may be a spindle tree.

As I walked around, I was aware of harp music in the otherwise very peaceful setting. It was irritating me a little, (only on principle, as the sound was gentle), just as recorded music for tourists in some large churches does. But I became aware that there was some stopping and starting and that therefore it was live, possibly someone practising in a garden in one of the surrounding houses, which changed my attitude entirely. I drew nearer to the sound.

I was tempted to go up to the harpist and chat, mindful of how I had been so taken by the harp in the Grantown-on-Spey Museum two years previously. But I decided to to leave her alone, and continued my stroll.

Beyond the lower wall, there was a long smooth patch of lawn. I learned later that it was part of Wells Cathedral School’s playing fields.

I zoomed right in to one end and saw these youngsters perfecting their penalty skills.

I identified the bungalow I had considered buying when I moved to the area ten years previously.

This would have been approximately the view from the bottom of my garden had I done so. The house had come second on my shortlist.

Work in progress, from a conifer.

After my long chat with the Chair, I entered the chapel. I was delighted to find that the history was not just that of the cemetery but of the Hospital as well. The Chair has done an enormous amount of research, which is ongoing, but yet to be put on line. I was a little frustrated that my ability to take in the detail of what I was seeing was limited by the misting of my glasses due to my mask. Which I probably didn’t need to put on as I was the only person in there. And it was the day before the so-called ‘Freedom Day’.

The hospital is in the middle, the cemetery lower left.

Yes, the alderman is grandfather of Jacob. (He, an Anglican, married an American Irish Catholic, and the rest is history.)

Once photography came in, a photo of every patient/inmate/resident was taken. I think these drawings of the very first male and female residents are lovely.

I was saddened to see that Sir Gilbert Scott, whose work is so beautiful, had been deemed to have fallen out of fashion at one stage.

Peter Jaggard told me that Wells Museum currently have an exhibition on on the subject of ‘The Somerset and Bath Lunatic Asylum, 1848-1918’, for just two more weeks. I shall really try to get to it – and hope that I shall be the only person there, and therefore not feel the need to wear a mask!

The Newt in Somerset – June 2021

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The Newt in Somerset

A few photos taken last month, when I was in the middle of writing up my recent holiday.

Travelling again – 10. Lindisfarne

Tags

Berwick-on-Tweed, Covid, fritillary, goosander, kestrel, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne Castle, Meadow pipit, Northern Marsh Orchid, pirri-pirri bur, poppy, scaup, small heath butterfly, stoat, swan, viper's bugloss

After a good night’s sleep, I looked out of the window of my Berwick-on-Tweed B’n’B’ bedroom, to see this.

My destination today, Thursday 17th June, was Shipley, in West Yorkshire, where I was to spend two nights with an old school friend (another Hazel) and her husband. My planned stop-off en route was just a few miles away, Holy Island, Lindisfarne. According to published information, the causeway to it would not be safe until 10.40, so I had plenty of time to kill. Having checked out after a good breakfast, I walked over to look at the sea.

Where there were literally hundreds of swans. No one picture could capture them all, and many were sailing (?) round to the other side of the harbour wall. I wondered whether this was in reaction to the tide falling.

I arrived at the Lindisfarne causeway around 10.30, expecting to have to wait, but that was not the case, and it was clear from the numbers in the car park that others knew that the published timings were set to cover only the extremes of safety.

But I stopped in a layby to take photos of the causeway first. I had never driven across a floodable causeway before, and was curious.

Once parked – quite a palaver in order to pay – I followed the crowds into the ‘village’ so that I could pick up the anti-clockwise circular path I intended to take. I’ll admit now that I did not have the plan with me and relied on just a brief look at this board. As a result I walked much further than I intended. But it was a lovely warm day – the only one in the whole of my time away – and a lovely setting, so apart from worries about time, that didn’t matter at all.

At the harbour, the ruined priory was to my right. Time did not allow further investigation.

The castle had been in view for most of the time, and indeed could be seen from all nearly over the island.

Not only did time mean I could not visit this National Trust property, but I should have had to book in advance because of Covid restrictions.

Some way further on, a kestrel was hovering overhead, and I followed its subsequent flight with my camera. I confess to being quite pleased with this picture.

I took a backward look at the castle.

Coming near to the shore, I wondered what these curious bumps were. A zoom on my camera revealed all.

A trio of goosanders

A spent a few minutes in the hide by this lake, but just before I got to it, …

I was thrilled not only to notice, but to get a photo of this stoat, as it stopped its scuttling for a second or two. (It could of course be a weasel; I did not see its definitive characteristic, the colour of the tip of its tail.)

Cygnets just a few days old

Scaup, I think, but I’m not sure

At this point I turned inland, but I went further than I intended, missing somehow where I should have turned south.

I should not have gone into these dunes.

Viper’s bugloss

I’m getting to recognise Northern Marsh Orchid – or am I?

Small heath

Starting to worry about time, I was feeling rather hot and beginning to feel hungry, and the castle and the priory seemed a long way off, but at least they were landmarks. I was definitely going south now.

I enjoyed, nevertheless, the lovely heathland flowers.

Presumably these are variety of tiny thyme, but they look more like a mass of seething mauve ants.

A fritillary of some sort

I saw so many meadow pipits

As I eventually emerged onto the road I saw both these lovely poppies and two people. “Is it far to the car park?” I asked, not really sure where I was. “Not very far at all’ they said – and I was very pleased that in fact it was barely 100 yards further on.

I can remember very little of the long drive to West Yorkshire. I just recall that I was very pleased to refresh myself before joining my hosts for an evening meal.