Friday, May 27, 2011
Ecclesiastical affairs
The Kent Suffolk borders were important church places for two reasons. First, there was an important port called Winchelsea, a jumping off point for invasions & other visits to France and Edward I wanted it to have the biggest and best church in the area. Second, there was the rich sheep country of Romney Marsh, rating lots of churches. Some of it was owned by an Archbishop of Canterbury who also wanted to have the biggest and best church in the area. So we took the opportunity afforded by our visit to take a tour.Winchelsea. Regularly raped and pillaged by the French, not clear if it was ever finished. What is left now is the large chancel, bricked across where the crossing used to be. Various funerary monuments to knights in armour, including one immortalised by the immortal Millais in his picture called 'L'Enfant du Régiment'. This particular knight in armour was Edward I's admiral of the fleet. He had a rather French name.
The museum next to the church included a case full of wooden truncheons which had once been issued to a squad of vigilantes formed during the late 19th century Fenian scare. Didn't say whether there were any Irish in the area at the time.
Icklesham. Norman with proper Norman pillars; village version of those in Durham Cathedral.
Pett. Mid 19th century rebuild. A small church which still felt rather short of customers. Gargoyles.
Fairlight. Another mid 19th century rebuild, mainly notable for the views of Fairlight Cove from the tower, sadly shut on the day of our visit. Jumping off point for our hunt for the source of Holman Hunt's picture of strayed sheep, a reproduction of which hangs over the PC at which I type. We succeeded in finding the headland which is the background to the picture. Not so sure about the rocks in the foreground. Must take a copy of the picture next time we try. But in the course of the hunt we did come across another memorial erected by the Ontario Heritage Foundation, this one to a chap called Grey Owl. See picture above and 25th April.
Fairfield. Another mid 19th century rebuild of a very old church, this one in the middle of a sheep filled field in Romney Marsh. Access gained by means of a large key hanging up by the back door of a nearby farm. Interesting king post roof, something which most of the marsh churches seem to sport. Numerological font: the basin was heptagonal and rare, the base of the circular pillar was pentagonal and the base proper was decagonal, not to say tenagonal. Neat, white painted box pews, with seats around all four (in)sides for greater conviviality during the sermons, with these last coming from a matching three tiered pulpit. Top tier for feast days, second tier for regular days and bottom tier for the prompter.
Brookland. A very grand church with a detached & shingled bell tower, stable doors to the porch and shutters to some of the windows. Nave arcades sloping outwards. I seem to remember something of the same sort at the rather larger St. David's cathedral. July 2007, but no record as we appear not to have been connected at Tenby. Fragment of a wall painting depicting the execution of Saint Thomas. Ancient lead font, a posher version of that at Walton on the Hill. See 13th April.
Ivychurch. Another very grand church with the north aisle doubling as an agricultural museum containing a range of implements, mostly to do with sugar beet.
Old Romney. Quite grand enough for a village which scarcely exists. Roof included what looked like cross-halved scissor tie beams, a new to me feature. Another interesting font. An even more interesting ladder into the bell chamber, 300 years older than H&S regulations about such things. Take one 20 foot tree and slice in half lengthwise. Chop suitable number of 2 foot billets into triangular sections. Tie the two slices together by nailing the triangular sections across them at intervals as treads. Erect at steep angle.
New Romney. The biggest and best church in the area. Lots of round arches and other Norman features. The first village in the area which had any shops. The people very like those one might come across in a fen town in Cambridgeshire or Lincolnshire. Maybe something to do with Romney Marsh being a fen land of sorts.
At which point we decided that enough was enough and moved onto Dungeness.
PS: Mr. Google suggests that any one wanting any more ecclesiastical information should consult http://www.worldtocome.org/home.html.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Camber culinary
First call was the Camber Cafe (see http://cambercafe.co.uk/default.aspx). Quite quiet on a low-season Monday lunch time. No nonsense about spelling cafe café and sufficiently democratic that some people were to be seen smoking outside. Safe from the smoke inside, I had an excellent, freshly cooked bacon and egg sandwich, something I have not had for some time. BH entirely happy with her tuna salad sandwich.
Second call was the Kit Cat Cafe just inside the dunes from Zone C of Camber beach itself (see May 26th). Teas plus a steak pie advertised as a Pukka Pie but I was not so sure. It was one of those pies with very flaky pastry which flies all over the place. Not like the Pukka Pies I remember at all.
Third call was the Coastguard Tearooms at Fairlight (see http://www.coastguardtearooms.co.uk/), an establishment which was doing a steady, local looking trade the Tuesday we were there and which looked to be doing very well out of visitors to the Hastings Country Park, which is what we were, being on the Hunt hunt mentioned on May 27th. Now we had previously noticed some extensive crayfish lagoons on the map, just south of Tenterden, and here we found crayfish salad on the menu. So we go for the local crayfish and get a nicely presented salad which amounted to a crayfish version of a prawn cocktail served on a plate rather than in a sundae glass. Rather a lot of mayo but not bad at all. Followed up by a respectable bit of victoria jam sponge.
Sadly, when I get around to asking Mr. Google, it seems that the crayfish lagoons are long abandoned and the outfit which used to run them is now a potato shop (see http://www.thepotatoshop.com/estate.html). Which would explain why the waitress looked a bit puzzled when I suggested that her crayfish might have come from the crayfish lagoons.
Fourth call was the Coach House Coffee House in New Romney (by popular demand, now open on Sundays) where we had baked potatoes. Friendly staff and the potatoes had been baked in one of those retro contraptions rather than steamed in a microwave. Designed to look like solid and ancient cast iron in black, trimmed with gold, but never been close enough one to find out what they are really made of. But they were let down by having a lot of cheese twiglets sprinkled over them. Far too chunky to melt down a bit in the way that they should.
That apart, most of our eating took place in the Gallivant Hotel, a place which we are now happy to recommend (see http://thegallivanthotel.com/index.php). Good location, nice rooms and public spaces, food and drink trying hard.
Hot on potted prawns, Rye bay scallops, Dexter beef and Romney Marsh lamb. Wine fine but beer cold. Nice white wine from Pays du Gard, a place with which I confused the waiter by confusing it with the flash new bridge over the Tarn. The pitfalls of airing one's knowledge when a few beers down. But they could only manage one room temperature bottle of Shepherd Neame before I was reduced to cold Grolsch. It seems that warm beer was only kept for the kitchen, not really for the customers at all. Some of the portions of food were a bit odd. So BH got monster portions of hot smoked salmon (not like its cold smoked cousin at all) and Marsh lamb while I got miniscule portions of Dexter beef (hors d'œuvre format) and turbot. Cheese following turbot was very good - a cheddar and a blue cheese - but served with some very thin brown biscuity things and some sort of chutney. Would have done better with some thinly sliced white bread - but this place would not be the first place to get this all wrong.
Dexter beef served as cow chop very good - something like that served in Florence, but served off the bone and without the tail they leave on the chop in Florence; cutlet fashion rather than chop.
Breakfasts good. Scrambled eggs on toast excellent with or without bacon, tea a bit feeble and no kippers. A good mushrooms on toast. An attempt to supply proper bread, an attempt which did not really succeed as not enough people wanted the stuff for it to be fresh.
We were agreeably surprised, given the tone of the place, that there were no shiny white plates of various shapes and sizes and that there was very little in the way of drizzles. But they made up a bit by serving some of the food on wooden boards. Plank life.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Candidate factlet 523
An intriguing factlet, or at least a candidate factlet. In the olden days it was customary to hang one's best clothes in the privy because the noxious smells put off the moths. As a result the word for both was garderobe which might well be translated as wardrobe. The OED, however, puts a slightly differant slant on the whole business. Garderobe was a special, private and possibly locked place in which one kept one's best clothes, and by extension or euphemism a privy. Rather in the way that we use toilet or lavatory. Doesn't mention moths. Which all goes to show that it is hard to be sure the paths through which the meanings of words wander.
And further intrigue on Howell Hill. Yesterday, a lorry, two men and two portable traffic lights assembled around the new speed camera. What were they up to? Unfortunately, this morning they have all vanished with nothing to show for their transient presence.
Of the ten Autumn raspberries moved from Devon, one almost succumbed, shot again and then succumbed again. Maybe slugs. Now buried under one end of a half row of onions. Two at the other end have had their lead shoot taken out by the deer and are not looking very happy. The remaining seven look like they will survive, despite the dry wind we have been having for the last few days. And the peice of green washing line (green plastic covered flex wire) erected about 15 inches above ground level along the side of that part of the allotment seems to be having some deterrent effect. No more footprints in that part.
Having had a very bad leaf beet year last year. I left the few plants that I did get up over the winter, not digging that part of the allotment. The deer fed off them occasionally and now they are rushing to seed - and therefore pretty much useless. Cutting out the seed heads does no good at all. But before digging them up I stripped them - a lot more carefully than one would had they been growing properly - and got enough for two meals. So our first green vegetable from the earth this year. The down side being that the ground is now fairly hard - although still wet enough a spade depth down - and is taking a while to dig. A compensation is a rash of a small red leaved ground crawler plant with very pretty yellow flowers. But not at all sure that it would not have been better to simply have dug the whole lot over in the Autumn.
And talking of seed heads a recent savoy from the Cheam greengrocer had a very powerful, strongly tapered stalk inside, curled over at the top and terminating in immature, purply rotting flowers right at the centre of the savoy. No great pain but not something I had noticed before.
And last but not least we have now taken delivery of 'Our English Coasts', courtesy of the proper Tate gallery via some arty image firm. This last, to give them their due, took their packing very seriously and the picture arrived splendidly wrapped in a large cardboard tube. The frame cost twice as much as the picture but the result, now hanging above me as I type, looks very well. The first time we have had a picture from this crew on our walls. And pleased that Mr Google knows such much about it: give him the title in quotes and the first eleven hits are all the right thing. Clearly he shares our good taste. Next stop Fairlight which should be within reach of the £10 a night travelodge special offer at Hastings.
And further intrigue on Howell Hill. Yesterday, a lorry, two men and two portable traffic lights assembled around the new speed camera. What were they up to? Unfortunately, this morning they have all vanished with nothing to show for their transient presence.
Of the ten Autumn raspberries moved from Devon, one almost succumbed, shot again and then succumbed again. Maybe slugs. Now buried under one end of a half row of onions. Two at the other end have had their lead shoot taken out by the deer and are not looking very happy. The remaining seven look like they will survive, despite the dry wind we have been having for the last few days. And the peice of green washing line (green plastic covered flex wire) erected about 15 inches above ground level along the side of that part of the allotment seems to be having some deterrent effect. No more footprints in that part.
Having had a very bad leaf beet year last year. I left the few plants that I did get up over the winter, not digging that part of the allotment. The deer fed off them occasionally and now they are rushing to seed - and therefore pretty much useless. Cutting out the seed heads does no good at all. But before digging them up I stripped them - a lot more carefully than one would had they been growing properly - and got enough for two meals. So our first green vegetable from the earth this year. The down side being that the ground is now fairly hard - although still wet enough a spade depth down - and is taking a while to dig. A compensation is a rash of a small red leaved ground crawler plant with very pretty yellow flowers. But not at all sure that it would not have been better to simply have dug the whole lot over in the Autumn.
And talking of seed heads a recent savoy from the Cheam greengrocer had a very powerful, strongly tapered stalk inside, curled over at the top and terminating in immature, purply rotting flowers right at the centre of the savoy. No great pain but not something I had noticed before.
And last but not least we have now taken delivery of 'Our English Coasts', courtesy of the proper Tate gallery via some arty image firm. This last, to give them their due, took their packing very seriously and the picture arrived splendidly wrapped in a large cardboard tube. The frame cost twice as much as the picture but the result, now hanging above me as I type, looks very well. The first time we have had a picture from this crew on our walls. And pleased that Mr Google knows such much about it: give him the title in quotes and the first eleven hits are all the right thing. Clearly he shares our good taste. Next stop Fairlight which should be within reach of the £10 a night travelodge special offer at Hastings.
