Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Paris oh Paris

This will be the place for Brendon's Paris post. If that ever happen...

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Weekend in Wales Part 3

The Sunday in Wales saw us going to the Valley of River Gwaun. It is a wonderful creek, I wouldn't go as far as calling it a river. We were alone here just as much as the previous day in most of our walks and it was simply beautiful. It still amazes me to see that people feel the urge to throw away their chocolate papers even in so wonderful places as this river walk. From here we started to drive to Pentre Ifan, another burial chamber, this time a famous and iconic one. The road through the Preseli Hills was really interesting, Brendon even made a video recording the fast drive he enjoyed so much. I thought that this dolmen will be really busy, after all it was weekend and this is really a famous one, but no. Once again, we had the whole place for ourselves.

One interesting discovery we made was that the welsh sheep wear their tail long. Must be the local fashion...

In a petrol station we have heard the shopkeeper speak welsh to her daughter. A very very strange sounding language. I didn't find any similarities to anything I know. I guess that is what people feel when they hear us Hungarians talk.

I was told that the Welsh are rude and the weather is Wales is always rainy. I don't know about all the people and all the weather, but we had sunshine and lovely time.

The next story will come from Brendon and will be about Paris.

Moss and ferns

River Gwaun

Riverside with sheep sprinkle

More river side

Long tailed sheep

Brendon at Pentre Ifan

Thursday, 28 April 2011

Weekend in Wales Part 2

The second day we went first to the lighthouse of Strumble Head. We were the first ones there. The place was still covered with clouds which kept swimming and rolling through the hills. The roads there were also crazy, single line narrow nothings sometimes so deep in clouds, that we couldn't see anything. The lighthouse is magnificent. I actually think all lighthouses are magnificent, because what they represent and what they did forever. Saved so many.

The next place we visited was Carreg Samson, which is a dolmen. Or cromlech, just to show off my non-existing Welsh knowledge. We had a map for walking and biking. Based on that we tried to find this place in the middle of somebody's farm. Brendon absolutely didn't believe we would find it. So when we actually turned off the road to a place called Longhouse (which is just a big and not very pretty farm), he said it better be the most fantastic view he can imagine. Then he didn't speak any further. Cos it actually was one of the most fantastic things to see. Really in the middle of a field probably for sheep, looking towards the harbor of Abercastle, the sea and the rocks of the shore line. To carry on with the Welsh lecture, Aber in geographical terminology means a confluence (where two waters meet) So Fishguard, where we stayed at night for example called Abergwaun, which is the mouth of river Gwaun. And you will hear more about the Gwaun river more in the next episode.

So Carreg Samson is a 5000 year old burial ground of about 1000 people. It is as old as Stonehenge, and the stones for Stonehenge were actually from the Preselli Hills,which is exactly where we stayed. Although it may seem small, it is way taller than any human. And if that isn't enough, we saw a seal at the harbor of Abercastle. It actually climbed out to one of the pontoons and had a proper sun bathe. Almost was lying on its back to get more sunshine on his belly. The first ever seal I saw outside a zoo. The rest of the nature was very pretty, especially if you like rugged landscapes. Brendon had a bit of an accident with a pile of cow poo which camouflaged itself as a piece of stone. But we don't talk about it. Then we went to St Davids, which happened to be the smallest city of Britain. Only 2000 people, but the one of oldest cathedral (and a very BIG cathedral). Fairly impressive. Good ice cream.
Then we went to the beach of Whitesands. Little sad Brendon remembered Australia and surfing so we went to St Justinian to have a look at Coastal walk there and what a walk it was. I couldn't stop taking pictures and Brendon couldn't stop wondering about the water, very typical strait water in Europe :)
Then we had dinner, when the sun went down and drove back to our B&B in the deepest fog ever. Clouds were back and attacking.
It truly was a wonderful day, our face got sun, we were walking many miles and saw many incredibly beautiful things.
I don't even think that the pictures do justice to what we saw.

Strumble Head in clouds

Abercastle harbor

Unknown origin of blobs on the ground

The farm of Longhouse

Carreg Samson

Whitesands rocks

Brendon on the rocks

St Justinian coastal walk

Ramsey Island where St Justinian was a hermit and sunset

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

Weekend in Wales Part 1

Considering that rain is always falling in Wales, we had one hell of a burnt nose in the end of the second day.

We stayed in this wonderful B&B and I mean wonderful. And pink. With a fairy garden. As a matter of fact, the whole thing was very fairy tale like. And at least every second house is pink. And there were sheep sprinkle everywhere. And the sea too.

But to start in the beginning, we had a day off plus the weekend and drove to North Pembrokeshire in South Wales. The first day we walked around in the old harbor of Fishguard, where famous movies like Under Milk Wood with Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton were shot. Also Moby Dick with Gregory Peck. The pictures are from the fort above the harbor. (Fort which has real canons... never fired though)

The extra pictures are from the house where we stayed. It is really old. Used to be the farmhouse of most of the land as far as you can see. Now it has the most interesting neighbor. A dairy farm which is not smelly. Many many cows. Very strange indeed. Though they look totally cool when early morning they are going to work.

There were also 2 cats, one of them wanted to be on every single picture, the other one kept sleeping on Brendon's car and leaving fur all over. (We knew it was him, because he was the white one)

Next two days are coming when I get there, but don't despair... There will be many more pictures.

That is me and the fort

The country of fences

Fence plus beautiful view

Fence and the fort and the view
Garden view with early morning mist and dancing trees

The pink house where we stayed plus the black cat

Fairy garden for Brendon's mum

Not a church but a bell to call the workers in

Wednesday, 6 April 2011

Petworth revisited

Celebrating the visit of my parents, we decided to take a look at Petworth again, this time in the wonderful British springtime. We had no sun, but had no rain either, so I guess we were lucky. No deers, but ducks and as they are both animals and start with a 'd', it is as good as it gets. They still provided new zoological knowledge to Brendon. Yes yes, Europe and our wonderful and interesting fauna.

But to remember the previous trip, I am happy to share that the amount of deer poo, although differently distributed, still is the same. What else? Pictures are still on the wall, only the direction of the viewing turned around. The spaniels are still getting into the water and probably becoming real smelly afterwards, but that must be somebody else problems. And the sadness in Brendon's eyes is still the same when he cannot have ham and mustard sandwich from the "high tea for two" plates. Poor poor Brendon. He had to have scones with clotted cream and jam.

My parents in the middle of the green
Spring time forrest
Duck attack
Oh the delight of being photographed

Chinese chest door in the castle

Dandelion... Or not

Tuesday, 29 March 2011

Thruxton race circuit

The absolute sunniest day of the year found us in Thruxton, where Brendon had the Lotus Exige experience with the ARDS test. Something must be seriously wrong with me, because I always thought cars are for driving from point A to point B. I guess Brendon thinks totally otherwise. There is something so touching to see him as he goes close to Ferraris and Formula Renaults with little twinkle in his eyes and he thinks he is in a perfect place talking to other twinkle eyed people. And what do they talk about? I have no idea, because they are numbers and 3 letters abbreviations in rapid succession. And corner taking theories... And flag colors... And speeding and racing and taking over the other guy in the Porsche and sliding and slipping and skipping and skidding. And going REAL FAST! And if you don't go real fast then it is not interesting at all. I wouldn't say it was the most interesting 7 hours of my life, because the race track is in the middle of nowhere on an airport field, and there is only so many pictures I can take of orange coloured witches hats, but to see Brendon happy worth so much more.

My honey is a certified race driver now! I am so proud of him. My nose and forehead got totally burnt.

The two Lotus in question

Ready to take the world

The small yellow is him


The favourite

This one is the artistic picture of the day

Sunday, 20 March 2011

Sunny weekend with Pogacsa

On Saturday we went to South London to see the Norman Rockwell exhibition. I always had this strange love and hate relationship towards his work, cos he is really good and funny, but he is also probably the person who ruined Santa Claus for the rest of the world. I mean he made a Parker pen commercial with Santa, how dare he... Among other creatively strange illustrations... On the way to the museum I got to see the Dulwich College, which is kinda interesting as I have just read a couple of days ago about that Sir Ernest Shackleton went to school there. Who is actually my personal hero. The whole journey with the Endurance and afterwards the way they got back to South Georgia and then rescued the others from the Elephant Island is a story to read.
Anyhow, after the exhibition we went back to Brentford and wanted to have dinner at the riverside, but the party was too big, so we only had gin&tonic. And then Brendon made fish for dinner and it was super good. It was so sunny whole day long lovely lovely.
Today wasn't so sunny, but I made pogacsa. It tasted better than looked, I think the heat was too high and the yeast was too little. And Brendon made good dinner again. My little cook.

College of Dulwich

Stripes and stripes

Gin and tonic

Tunnel vision

Riverside sun

Sun and sun



Sunday, 27 February 2011

The Canterbury Trip

This is not going to be a funny or witty post, because I have to admit that I am officially smitten. The Canterbury Cathedral is just magical. It's like being in and out of history, there are little doors and secret places and ruins and wonderful Gothic sculptures and funny pagan column capitals. It made me all giddy, how touchable every piece of stone was (I REALLY touched them), how alive the whole place felt. When we walked around the church and got through the cloisters and ended up in the remains of the Monastic Herbarium, I felt I was back in Zsambek, where my love for church ruins have started. The cathedral also has one of the biggest crypt I have ever seen beside the St. Peter's Basilica. And instead of the place becoming a ghost ridden tourist attraction, it is a living place of worship and prayer and research and if that wasn't enough, the Archbishop of Canterbury is the leader of the whole Anglican Church all over the world. And they have Very Reverends and Most Reverends. The Cathedral also has its own jam and fudge brand. That is surely funny.

The houses within the city wall are also pretty old. We had lunch in the house where the Mayflower's charter was signed. Big thing :) Celebrating that, I had American Breakfast and my picture taken in a ship window mirror. Brendon ate pancakes with berries. And more pancakes. And then the end of my eggs and hash browns. And banana smoothies. I had hot chocolate with marshmallows. Then it started to rain and so we came home.

Brendon thought that the city was spooky. Brendon thinks all English cities are spooky.

The nave of the Cathedral and 28 years
 of building work of some poor soul.
Me at cafe whatever

The sculpture which was thrown
 out of a church and ended up there

When even the scaffolding looks marvellous

To remember where we are

The Herbarium

Sunday, 13 February 2011

Memento mori

Yesterday we tried to visit the Highgate cemetery. We only got to the east side, because the guided tour of the west side was washed away by hail and rain. I also wasn't sure if I wanted to see whether my camera can swim or not.
It is easy for an English graveyard to look all adventurous and romantic. Because of the constant humid weather, even a 10 years old tombstone looks like something from the time of secrets and druids. Covered by moss and ivy.

But it also made me think... Who did we build graves for? For the dead? I bet they don’t care, no matter what we believe in. If they are really religious and they sit up on the clouds with their chosen God, would they really care where their carcass is located? If they believe they are dead for good and no Gods, no honey, no endless mercy, but worms and decay, would they really want a little stone house to commemorate their own remains?

Is it for us to remember? I remember alright to every soul I ever loved and lost, I don’t need to visit memories made of marble.

Is it for us to show to other people that we care? I think we are sorry creatures if we care for the dead instead of caring for the living. And so many times we only care for those people when they are gone.

Yeah let’s make nice big tombs so we can push away our bad conscious of mistreating our relatives while they were still alive. As if it helps.

Humans are strange. We are so much the victims of our pride and vanity that we actually make cities for dead, where we can show off our money and love. Oh so weird.

That said I have seen the grave of Marx. More famous next time, when we actually look at the west side. Malcolm McLaren, here I come.
On the way back to the top of Highgate we have visited a pub. Not an unusual thing in itself, but this one happened to have the first ever autopsy made in one of its rooms. Obviously the ancient Egyptians and Rembrandts friend Nicolaes Tulp would have something to say about that… And it also has a ghost. Spanish maid apparently. And Dick Turpins hidden booty.

Food was good, I had haddock, Brendon had pigeon.

Tomb of the mossy kind
Ivy and the moss
In the pub with the ghost
More tombs, moss and ivy