England in the Spring

 LONDON

Saturday, April 26 - Wednesday, April 30

After a crowded but uneventful flight we arrived at Heathrow, flying in over red roofs and the always surprising amount of green space left in the tightly-packed little island that is Great Britain.

Our hotel, The President, was part of our flight package. A sprawling 7-storey building, it seemed to be a favourite of tour groups from all over Europe, with a vast cafeteria-like dining hall that felt more like a youth hostel than a hotel. However, our room, although basic, was quiet and pleasant enough with a view onto an attractive street just off Russell Square.

 

The square, at the end of the street above, gave us our first sight of a magnificent English oak.

The park was understandably popular with students from the nearby university, no doubt exhausted from hours of intense study.
I liked the notice at one of the entry points, and thought we could use it in a few Vancouver green spaces.

 

  On our first foray into the crowded streets, we came to Selfridges, one of London's famous department stores, which was undergoing repairs to its facade and was covered in an elegant protective wrap.

One of the things I noticed in England generally was that there is still a custom of artistic window design, something sadly lacking in modern Vancouver. Despite the scaffolding, Selfridges was setting some fine examples (though hard to photograph because of reflections.)

Smaller shops were also doing their part.

Even in residential areas, despite a lack of garden space, many of the townhouses and restaurants had beautifully maintained flowerboxes,

...or at least some kind of floral adornment, wisteria being a popular choice.

No wonder London tops the polls as Europe's most visited city. For all that it's so big, crowded and smoggy, it has such style. And that's not counting all the cultural treasures and fine architecture to see as well.

Speaking of culture, we went to the Royal Opera House, a short walk from our hotel and managed to get seats in the "gods" for a ballet performance of Shakespeare's "The Winter's Tale", a joint British-Canadian production. No photos were allowed during the performance, but I did take a couple of the very grand theatre itself during an intermission.

Most of our time in London was spent in art galleries. First up, the National Gallery with its view of Nelson's column from the portico...

 ... being faced down by a more recent work of sculpture.

 Inside were grand rooms containing some of the world's most famous paintings...

... and some truly laughable "artspeak."

 

It was quite crowded, especially around works by the Impressionists, such as Van Gogh's yellow chair.
By contrast, the Courtauld Gallery, which charged an admission fee, was almost deserted, giving us more opportunity to enjoy the work on display. No photos allowed, but I didn't think they'd mind if I photographed a translation of an inscription that I particularly liked as a wish for a desirable life:

Apart from that, I had to be content with photographing the courtyard outside.

On other days we visited the Tate and the Tate Modern. The latter, housed in the old Battersea Power Station, demonstrated what an imaginative architect can do in adapting an existing building to a new use. The interior spaces were vast and spectacular.

It was a long walk to get there, along the Thames embankment past the Tower of London,

... an interesting contrast with the very recent skyscraper dubbed "The Shard" visible beyond the ancient stone walls.

We crossed Tower Bridge...

 

... and had a cloudy view across the river of the ghastly hodge-podge that is now the London skyline.

On a more cheerful note, we passed a group of kindergarten children all dressed as pirates, on their way to see Sir Francis Drake's ship, The Golden Hind, which was moored along the river.

I tried my hand at creating my own piece of modern art through a window in the Tate Modern.

 

We crossed back over the Thames at a different bridge to admire St. Paul's Cathedral from close at hand.

We passed the Houses of Parliament, where I took the obligatory photo of Big Ben,

...and Westminster Abbey, where I was amused by some of the gargoyles.

Even the design of seats along the Embankment was artistic and elegant

An impending tube strike the next day had us hurrying out on the train to Kew Gardens late in the afternoon. We arrived at the perfect time to see the bluebells in bloom,

...and many large and vibrant rhododendrons.

'Golden Eagle'

'Ilam Ming'

We strolled the long green corridors,

...meeting an occasional resident ...,

...and wandered through the magnificent glasshouses...

...with their eye-catching contents.

Zingiber spectabile

While we waited for the return train, we had a drink in the Station pub among English businessmen on their way home from work.

The following day, the strike took effect as threatened. Somewhat footsore from our earlier excursions and unable to travel by train, we boarded a double-decker bus, secured the front seat and sat happily watching the sights as we crawled our way towards Hyde Park.

I took the opportunity for a mirror shot.

 

The weather was better than the previous few days, and locals were out enjoying the sunshine on Hyde Park's spacious lawns.

In some of the trees, were, I think, bat boxes.

Returning after an early dinner to our hotel, we passed a corner pub where evening patrons had spilled out into the street, drinks in hand. So civilized compared with back home in Vancouver, where a scene like this might set a bad example to the kiddies and would not be permitted.

 The following morning we set out for Paddington Station to catch our train to Plymouth. We had booked in the "quiet carriage", where passengers can't use their cell phones during the journey.  A sensible rule for everyone's comfort.

PLYMOUTH
Thursday, May 1 - Sunday, May 4

Plymouth is, of course, famous as the port from which Sir Francis Drake set out to vanquish the Spanish armada. He still stands on Plymouth Hoe gazing out to sea.

Around the base of his statue are various bas-reliefs with a naval theme.

We  had come mainly to visit our nephew and his wife who lived in the former naval yards, now converted into unique apartments.

In one of these buildings was the best bakery/cafe ever, with wonderful freshly made breads and local jams.

On Friday our nephew, Jeff, drove us on a tour of small, picturesque Devon towns.

On Saturday afternoon we walked through the East Stonehouse area to catch the Cremyll ferry to Mount Edgcumbe House and Gardens

Along the way, Jeff pointed out another unique but little-known feature of Plymouth: Durnford Street, where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle worked as a newly-qualified physician in 1882. Quotes from his Sherlock Holmes mysteries have been set into the sidewalks.

At Mount Edgecumbe I was impressed by the grand conservatory, where tables were set out for an afternoon wedding.

The garden and park surrounding the house had some unusual topiary effects...

...and a striking green man sculpture.

A tiny van was just one of a number of enterprises selling refreshments on what had turned out to be a hot afternoon.

DEVON AND CORNWALL

Sunday, May 4 - Thursday, May 8

After a late breakfast at the bakery above, we picked up our rental car, a bright red Fiat 500...

...and set off on our own to explore more of Devon and Cornwall.
 We travelled through lush countryside...

...and picturesque towns.


We also stopped to enjoy several great estates and their beautifully maintained gardens. The first of these was the Lost Gardens of Heligan which I'd read about and wanted to see if ever we were in this part of the country. It was worth stopping for: we spent a considerable time wandering through the kitchen gardens...

 

...with their espaliered fruit trees...

 ...cold frames...

...potting sheds...

...rhubarb beds...

...and ferneries.

That still left some time to enjoy the more park-like areas ...

where magnificent rhododendrons were in full bloom.

Our return route took us through dappled woodland where we encountered another green figure, this time a sleeping lady.

In the following days we visited more pretty towns like Mousehole (pronounced mousle),

where we watched a group of classic car enthusiasts lining up their shiny steeds on the breakwater...

...and St Ives,

where we stayed the night in the Western Hotel.

We also visited a number of fine estates owned by the National Trust, like Trelissick,

which had a spectacular wisteria in bloom, but not much else of interest, as the house wasn't open to the public and the garden was more of a park.

...and Trengwainton, which was chiefly remarkable for the sloped beds in its kitchen garden.

More interesting both architecturally and for its gardens was Trerice, with an magnificent Elizabethan house and perennial borders,

and an espaliered white wisteria just coming into bloom on a mossy stone wall.

Best of all, though, was Llanhydrock...

...with its espaliered magnolia...

...and camellias,

...its parterres,

...woods,

...and an interior reminiscent of "Downton Abbey".

I was especially impressed by a beautiful pair of etched-glass doors,

 ...and the kitchen with its marble counter for keeping butter and cheese cold by means an ingenious channel for cold water.

SOMERSET AND WALES

Friday, May 9 - Tuesday, May 13

Leaving Cornwall and heading north through Devon again towards Somerset and Wales, we followed a road sign to one more National Trust property. Knightshayes turned out to be another magnificent mansion,

...but is equally famous for its remarkable topiary, from simple forms like its castellated hedges...

...to its famous fox and hounds scene.

Dogs seemed to be a popular theme.

We spent the night at Weston-super-Mare,  a slightly faded seaside resort still popular, we discovered, with busloads of retirees coming to its casino and beach.
We might have enjoyed it more without the gale that blew all the time we were there, making it unpleasant to be outside. Fortunately our hotel was very comfortable to be in and we had a good view of the pier and pavilion from our window (middle row, third from the right.)

 

When we left Weston-super-Mare, the wind had lessened to a breeze and the skies were sunny. We stopped to visit Tyntesfield, an imposing castellated Victorian pile, with formal gardens full of wallfowers.

Inevitably, there was another fine wisteria  in bloom.

There was also a fine conservatory,

..with some spectacular plants including a glossy, wine-dark pelargonium.

Continuing north along the coast, we encountered more blustery weather with intermittent showers that left a haze over the pretty countryside.

The winds were whipping up quite a surf along the shore, which was largely deserted...

... except for an occasional fisherman...

 

... and a group of enthusiastic kite-surfers.

By the time we reached the walled town of Tenby on Friday the 9th, the sky was brightening. In the small harbour the tide was out and colourful boats lay marooned on the sand.

The following day, we reached another pretty town, St. David's. At the centre of the town is the old cathedral of St David, patron saint of Wales...

 

where I found this wounded knight asleep on his sarcophagus.

Much of the town is built in dark stone, giving it a grim appearance, especially on this cloudy, grey day.

But the townsfolk are cheerful and friendly, especially in The Bishop's, a popular pub in the town centre where we had an excellent lunch.
On Sunday, after continuing north through Aberystwyth to Aberdovey, we left the coast and skirted the edge of Snowdonia with its white-walled cottages in the lee of dark mountains.

We were heading for Welshpool, the nearest town to Powis Castle, a National Trust property I wanted to visit. We found it to be a attractive small town, although suffering a little from several empty storefronts along the main street. We stayed the night in the Royal Oak Inn, a 300-year-old former coaching inn, which was one of the best choices we made on the whole trip. For a very reasonable price we had a pleasant room and enjoyed both dinner and breakfast in their restaurant, manned by friendly and efficient staff.

Powis Castle

 Monday, May 12

The day was fine and warm as we set out for Powis Castle. It did not disappoint. From the castle itself, perched high on a series of terraces (including yet another wisteria)...

...with views across the valley floor,

..to its famous sculpted hedges and beautiful gardens, it was a place to linger.

The "tumps"

Apple orchard

Grapevine

'Gloire de Dijon' rose

Even the resident peacock put on a show for us.













Of all the statues there, the one that appealed the most to me was not one of the shepherds or shepherdesses visible in the terrace photo above, but a muscular Hercules slaying the many-headed Hydra (one of his twelve tasks), with a backdrop of enormous hedge.

Bodnant

 Tuesday, May 13

After leaving Powis, we drove north once more to Llandudno on the northern shore of Wales. We had come to see the other famous garden in Wales, Bodnant, and it too was worth the journey. In fact, it was the most spectacular garden we saw on the trip, largely because our visit coincided with the blooming of hundreds of rhododendrons.
They are not one of my favourite plants, but I have to admit that seeing such mature specimens flowering in profusion in this historic setting was an amazing experience.

Although the house itself, adorned with, yes, a wisteria,  was attractive enough,









...it was no match for the blaze of colour in the gardens.

Even the parterres were alive with colour.

However, there were also a number of more subdued compositions, appealing in their tranquillity. This reflecting pool for instance,

 

... and this white wisteria on a white trellis overlooking a white-walled building.

I thought this lichen- encrusted sphinx had a suitably questioning look.

 Among individual plants that attracted my attention were a Liriodendron in bloom,

... an unknown pink Enkianthus,

... and a Rhododendron espaliered against the wall of the house.

This is the first time I've seen this technique applied to this species, and it's very effective.

 CAERNARVON TO OXFORD

Wednesday, May 14 - Thursday, May 15

After Powis and Bodnant, everything else was bound to be a little less impressive. Even Caernarvon Castle proved disappointing, jammed as it is among the buildings of the town. Chirk Castle at least had some interesting topiary,

... while Hanbury Hall in Worcestershire had a newly-planted but delightful parterre, edged in golden boxwood.

and an equally formal kitchen garden.

Hidcote Manor, with its famed garden by plantsman Lawrence Johnston, should have been another highlight of our garden itinerary. I had seen it some15 years earlier, in June, and remembered being impressed. Perhaps this time it was still too early in the season for it to be at its best, but I found the cottage garden a random clutter, with all plants about the same height,

... and the famous red border seemed rather sparse.

However, the vistas were as impressive as ever,

and the tapestry hedge was in good trim.

On the croquet lawn, Michael impressed a few onlookers with his hand-eye cocordination. 

OXFORD

Thursday, May 15 - Sunday, May 18

Oxford was our final destination before flying home to Vancouver. We had lovely weather for our three days there.

There are so many beautiful buildings to admire with their turrets and spires, and an endless array of quaint and curious friezes and gargoyles.

 Heroic lawn-mowing was in evidence in all the colleges

Although it was suddenly midsummer hot ,and punting on the river on the river looked alluring, it was clearly an acquired skill. We preferred to watch the antics and near crashes of assorted students from the shade and safety of the bank.

I took a little time to wander through the Oxford botanic garden, which was pretty but not very exciting,

...except for this remarkable plant, Begonia masoniana (Iron Cross Begonia) in one of  the glasshouses.

 We spent our last night at Heathrow in the Ibis hotel, which was also not very exciting but adequate for an overnight stay.

Batu Caves - Kuala Lumpur

Friday, November 8 - Saturday, November 9

We spent the morning checking out of our guesthouse, making our way to the Malacca bus station, catching a bus for the one-hour journey back to Kuala Lumpur, and then finding our way to Ben and Kee's lovely apartment in the Bukit Bintang area where we had booked their private room for our last night in Malaysia. For dinner we strolled though Bukit Bintang's famous night market and ate bowls of delicious laksa at one of the stalls.

On Saturday morning, as our flight to Sydney didn't leave until midnight, we decided to visit Batu Caves, a short train ride from the city. At the station, we almost boarded the wrong carriage. In this Moslem country, two of the middle cars are reserved for women only.

We had read about the Batu Caves, a significant Hindu shrine, but even so we were not prepared for the vast size of the site and its accompanying statue.

With the usual temperature hovering above 30ºC, the climb up all those stairs to the cave entrance was daunting. At least we weren't doing it carrying cases of water like some of the other climbers.

The only ones not having a struggle were the ubiquitous monkeys who leaped easily from vantage point to vantage point, and watched us without sympathy.





















 But the view from the top of the climb was worth it, even though there were still more stairs ahead, both down.....

 

.... and up again.

Returning to street level was less strenuous, but the steep and narrow stairs required some concentration to negotiate. One slip and you felt you would tumble all the way to the bottom.

 

However, I did have time to admire some of the smaller details of the temple.










We ate lunch in one of a row of restaurants adjoining the site, but compared with food we'd had elsewhere in Malaysia, it was expensive and disappointing. We made our way back to KL and spent the afternoon relaxing in the apartment before Kee drove us to the train station to begin our journey to the airport and on to Australia.

Around Malacca

Tuesday, November 5th

Our guesthouse didn't provide breakfast but we found a stall just across the street that seemed popular with the locals. Here we were served excellent coffee accompanied by toast with a kind of sweet coconut spread on it by a very grumpy woman who slammed the cups down so that the contents spilled into the saucers. Maybe she'd had some bad experiences with other foreigners, although on this morning and those following we were the only ones there.

Having read that the best way to orient oneself to the layout of the old town was to take a river cruise, we made our way to the landing stage and boarded a boat. The half-hour trip was interesting and gave us good views of the buildings and old houses lining the banks, although we were disappointed that it didn't include reaching the mouth of the river and the sea.

We had planned to find a particular satay place for lunch, but lost our way and struggled for some time through heavy traffic in streets with no sidewalks before coming across an old Dutch cemetery in the shade of a huge gnarled tree.

When we finally found the satay place it was closed, but on the next corner we were lucky to find the Madras Cafe, where we sat under huge ceiling fans and had an excellent meal of martabak (vegetable pancakes) and mee goreng (fried noodles) prepared fresh on a hot griddle.

 We got back to our room just in time to escape the afternoon deluge. Looking down from our windows, we could see water pouring into the basin and pool below.

When the rain eased after a couple of hours, we went looking for the local art museum, which contained some very ordinary works on a floor above an exhibit praising assorted nationalist youth organizations like boy scouts and guides. I liked the beautiful herringbone wood floor better than most of the paintings.

 Only one painting stood out for me, an interpretation of the famous Hokusai wave clearly relating to the recent tsunami in Japan. It was titled "Wave of Wrath."

By contrast as we strolled the streets afterwards, we came to a gallery showing very large brush-and-ink paintings on rice paper by a talented Chinese artist. The paintings were too large and the space too narrow to photograph them successfully, but I thought the artist's tools were interesting too.

Wednesday, November 6th

We had a good night's sleep in the lovely white cotton sheets of our guesthouse. The little cafe across the street was closed so we headed across the river and back to the Madras cafe for breakfast. this time we were able to get seats closer to the kitchen are and could watch the cook making roti on the heavy iron hotplate.

 

Naturally, that's what we ate. It was delicious, but quite filling so it seemed a good idea to follow with a walk along the river, following the same route we'd traversed by boat. Overnight rain had turned the water muddy and it was full of detritus: twigs and leaves, various plastics, dead fish. We marvelled that the iguanas swimming by could survive in such an environment.

As we walked, we admired the lushly planted containers along the path,

 while boatloads of cheery tourists and schoolchildren waved at us from the river.



After some time we came to Kampung Morten, a kind of model village in the traditional style dating from the 1920s.

New construction across the river, looming behind the village, provided quite the contrast,

especially with its protective wrap of brilliant green netting. Below it, along the river bank is a non-working monorail, an expensive and ugly failed experiment to attract more tourists. All that the authorities have succeeded in doing, as the following photo shows, is marring the beauty of their riverside.

When our path eventually came to an end, we crossed a bridge to the other side of the river, where we came across this sign:










It congratulated us on walking 3 km and advised that we had burnt off enough calories to compensate for 1 bottle of pop, 1 hotdog or 1 banana popsicle.









As we continued our journey back under the pillars of the monorail, we came across a last remnant of the local architecture n the shadow of the monstrous highrise.

Beyond this point, the construction of the highrise blocked our route and we had to branch off from the river through narrow streets lined with shops. Outside one of them, I admired a display of traditional women's fashions, carefully enveloped in plastic to protect them from the rain.

For lunch we found a tiny cafe, Kedai Zul, on a parallel street to the more touristy Jonker St., where we had fresh-squeezed orange juice and a delicious laksa. Then it was back to our room for a cooling shower before launching out again into the draining heat and humidity. This time we crossed through the main square where the historic buildings were being restored behind more swathes of green netting,

 and climbed St. Paul's Hill just behind them, where we had a distant view of the Straits of Malacca.

The remains of the old church on top of the hill were impressive, their walls lined with old headstones.

It seemed an odd place for wedding photos but there was a very handsome Indian bride and groom posing for their photographer (and incidentally a group of us tourists) without any concern for either the setting or the crowd of observers.

As we descended the hill and walked back towards the town, we were continually passed by pedicab owners in the most elaborate contraptions we were to see anywhere during our holiday, decorated with great fans of artificial flowers and feathers, and large hearts studded with more flowers and often with a stuffed animal or a Hello Kitty doll in the centre. Some play blaring music and all of them sparkle after dark with strings of LED lights outlining the decor.

In the evening we went next door to Honky Tonk Haven, following an invitation from a woman we had met in the guesthouse. This little place was having their once-a-month evening of jazz with a sort of potluck meal included for 12 RM.

The band consisted of a saxophonist, the New Zealand owner on keyboards, and his Malaysian wife (who had invited us) on vocals. The music was largely old Nat King Cole standards, everyone was very welcoming, the highlight of the food was some spicy chicken dish, and the whole evening was fun.

Thursday, November 7

Breakfast across the road again, basic but good. Our hosts at the guesthouse thought us very adventurous to eat there, and to have found the Madras Cafe. Apparently most of their foreign guests stuck to Jonker St. restaurants. How much those people missed!

We went next to the architecture museum (free) which had many explanatory panels about the local building styles and the successive British, Dutch and Portuguese influences. There were also a few of the exquisitely-detailed scale models we'd seen in Kuala Lumpur, this one showing the old KL railway station.

Then on to the Sultan's Palace, burnt to the ground in a fire, but then carefully reconstructed. It is an elegant dark brown building with high-peaked roofs and shuttered verandahs, supposedly built without nails although I noticed that the shutters were attached with modern hinges and screws.

 

Inside were displays recreating scenes of palace life, such as the sultan 's court and the women's quarters. Gaggles of noisy high school girls running around taking selfies spoilt the ambience a little.

Outside we walked through the "forbidden garden" which had elaborate parterres

as well as stands of colourful bamboo and some flowering trees alive with yellow, red and white butterflies.

It was a morning for museums. We continued on to a Baba and Nyonya House, showing how a wealthy Chinese/Malay family would have lived.

 

It was another very hot and humid day so we were glad that evening to find a riverside bar where we could have drinks and watch as hundreds of little birds made their way along the river to the trees where they nested overnight. We followed this serene interlude with another great meal at Madras Cafe, and went to a book launch we had seen advertised at another house on our street. The book was "East Indies", written by an Australian who gave a powerpoint lecture in an upstairs room with long casement doors opening to the river. That and ceiling fans kept us moderately cool. The talk was well-done with old illustrations and maps, and questions from the audience of about 15 people indicated that they were perhaps members of a local historical society.

The next morning, we left Malacca to return to Kuala Lumpur for our last day in Malaysia

En route to Malacca (aka Melaka)

Monday, November 4th

After an early breakfast, we caught a bus to the quay and a ferry back to the mainland, where we secured tickets on the next bus leaving for Malacca. We had hoped to find some fruit to take with us, but had no luck in the little stalls lining the road beside the bus station, and had to be content with some cookies and dried bananas.
The cookies had an odd and salty combination of red-skinned peanuts and tiny fish in them, which was nicer than it sounds, while the bananas had been sliced and sautéed in palm sugar.

The bus was comfortable as usual, and one of the roomier ones with two seats on one side and only one on the other.

The trip was uneventful but long, passing through jungle, palm and pineapple plantations, gouged-out hillsides where mining of some kind was taking place, and undistinguished towns and villages. Although it was on the main highway all the way, it took 71/2 hours to reach our destination, allowing for a couple of 10-minute rest stops.

On arrival in Malacca, we took a cab across the city to our accommodation at the Wayfarers' Guest House on the river on the heart of the Old Town.

 

 Although we had hoped for a room overlooking the river, we booked too late and had to be content with one that opened onto an internal light well. Nevertheless, it was very comfortable, clean and attractive, and no doubt quieter than those facing the busy river. We strolled the short distance to the main tourist zone along Jonker Street for an evening meal, which was typical tourist fare and not that great. Back at the guesthouse, we killed a couple of mosquitoes and turned in for the night.