Lucca is the birthplace of Giacomo Puccini - one of the finest composers of opera that there has ever been. That is certainly the opinion of Lucca residents and those who live in nearby Torre del Lago where the master also lived for many years. We have been very happy to attend the Puccini festival this summer and enjoy the spectacle of three of his great operas performed in the open air - here I am before the beginning of Madama Butterfly It was the first time we had been on an organised tour and we didn't know quite what to expect - we were fortunate to have our lovely friend Ally with us, but all other members of the party were complete unknowns. Within five minutes of arriving Steve had teamed up with us. He certainly loved Puccini with a passion and he was also very knowledgeable about Fiats. He was very willing to share his masterly grasp of all makes and models as and when he spotted a Fiat driving past. As we were in Italy, this was very often. Lunchtime in Italy is delightful with cheese and honey, ravioli, bread, cooked meats, pizza and of course, wine. As well as attending the opera we also had a day in Florence. This is one of the most amazing cities I have ever seen. There are just statues everywhere, also tourists. Florence is a city we definitely intend to visit again - we hardly saw any of it's amazing architecture and art. The Uffizi gallery is crammed with masterpieces and the Pitti Palace was the venue for the very first opera ever performed, as well as Napoleon's bathroom. The top picture is of Christopher and Ally thoroughly enjoying their Uffizi experience, then there is some influential thirteenth century art by Giotto, and finally a lovely picture of Napoleon's bath. However, the most important element of our trip was to thoroughly imbibe Puccini, so we were delighted to go on a walking tour of Lucca to see the churches where he played, and the museum situated in his childhood home. While we were in the cathedral we were extremely privileged to view Puccini's organ. The museum has lots of Puccini memorabilia including the piano he used to write Turandot, letters and manuscripts. They were also happy for photographs to be taken, unlike our visit to his villa at Torre del Lago, where I just managed to sneak one picture of his shutters While we were wandering in Lucca, we pondered the meaning of the ironmongery set into many of the paths and pavements. it is probably something very mundane such as just marking the edge of the road, but it would be much more romantic if we could tie it in to Puccini somehow - all paths lead to Puccini maybe.
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Ladies and gentlemen, what lengths would you go to avoid teaching year nine mathematics? Is Southampton to the Isle of Skye somewhat extreme? Well that's what Greg did, and he and Sue now run a Bed and Breakfast establishment in Staffin on the Isle of Skye. It's been five years since Greg decided that mathematics wasn't for him, and so it was high time we paid him a visit. Skye and Southampton don't have a great deal in common, apart from they both begin with S - for example Southampton has an area of 52 square kilometres and 242,000 people live there; Skye has an area of 1,656 square kilometres and just over 10,000 people live there. That's about a third of St.Mary's stadium. Greg warned us that the traffic got 'bonkers' on a Sunday - well here it is. Skye is brilliant for walkers and climbers, but not so great for shopping. However, there is a town on Skye - called Portree (pop. 2500) - that has an excellent shop called the Skye Batik shop, and here I managed to buy a lovely hat. Because people do so much walking and climbing they tend to get very hungry and so people eat in the early evening. This restaurant opened at six o clock and was full by five past Skye has two pubs, and of course we went in both - venison burgers in one, fish and chips in the other. You may be wondering if Skye was quite the right place for me if all I wanted to do was go shopping and eat in restaurants; but of course that wasn't all I wanted to do. Each morning Greg gave us an itinerary of places to visit, and if we were feeling very energetic we managed to get to about half of them. There are so many beautiful views on Skye and here are a few of them The weather played an integral role in our whole Skye experience. Bearing in mind that we went in June, I never once felt the desire to take my coat off. There was plenty of sun, but also loads and loads of wind - enough to nearly knock me off my feet. There was also a little bit of torrential rain. I loved the dinosaur footprint on Staffin beach However, the absolute and total highlight of the visit was a boat trip from Dunvegan castle to look at seals. In my opinion you cannot have too many pictures of seals - they are completely and utterly cute and adorable. Here are a few from my collection; we were assured that the first one has most unusual markings. So, that's the story of my hatful of Skye. If you know Greg, or even if you don't, and if you like beautiful scenery, walking and especially seals, then pay him a visit!
Christopher and I recently paid a cultural visit to Liverpool. We stayed in Albert Dock, which is really very picturesque indeed, and we thoroughly enjoyed soaking up Liverpudlian accomplishments and art. We started out by going to the largest Anglican cathedral in the UK, which took seventy years to complete, not being finished till 1978. This seems rather a long time to me. Right by the cathedral are some very gothic gardens called St James Park. In the park there is a memorial to William Huskisson, MP, who was the first person in the world to die in a train accident. This happened at the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester railway in 1830, when he failed to notice a locomotive coming towards him. It cast a bit of a damper on proceedings; but apparently the resulting publicity ensured the railway's success. So that's all right then. The paths in the park are lined with recycled tomb stones, which was actually very interesting, although slightly creepy at the same time. Liverpool is full of sculpture celebrating it's heritage in many ways. The Rope Horse symbolises man's struggle against slavery apparently. I like the sculpture, but I can't see the symbolism. It looks to me like a man pulling a horse's tail The lambanana also has it's own mystery. On the face of it is obviously a cross between a lamb and, wait for it, a banana. However, I have pondered the significance of the lambanana on a number of occasions. Is it a warning on the dangers of genetic engineering? Or does it symbolise Liverpool's heritage as a trading centre of the world? On the other hand maybe it's just a silly made up animal that we can have our photographs taken with. As well as being the largest collection of Grade 1 listed buildings in the UK, Albert Dock also contains a wide variety of restaurants and hotels. The Blue Bar and Grill has lovely views over the water and serves delicious food. Even though it is apparently the restaurant of choice for the many footballers that frequent Liverpool, it wasn't that expensive, and the service was excellent. The next day we went to the Liverpool Tate Gallery, and were actually moved to pay to see an exhibition of Leonora Carrington. As we were buying our tickets the attendant was doing his best to see if we could get some money off by asking if we were out of work or over sixty five. "No", we said, "we've just stopped working because we don't want to do it any more." "Oh, where do you come from?" he asked "Southampton" we replied. "Southampton, that's a bit rough isn't it?" Stunned silence on our part. I now turn to a perennial topic, but one that I never get bored with, and that is the question of: What is Art? The Tate Gallery provided me with the inspiration to start producing my own art, and although it is a bit derivative I feel that I have made a good start. I would like you to compare the following two sculptures. One is called Pile 3 '68 and it's by Barry Flanagan. The other one is called Piles and it's by Wendy Stokes. I think you will agree that the intrinsic qualities of folded cloth, together with the warm tones, make these superior pieces of work.
If you haven't been to Liverpool, I recommend it. It is interesting, quirky and friendly. It is also inspirational - I shall be producing a lot more artwork next time I do the ironing. This blog is really just an excuse to show you some pictures of Marrakech, and to tell you why I liked it so much. Well, where to begin - there were so many things - but I think for an English person in January the colour of the sky was pretty amazing, and temperatures during the day were up to 27 degrees The mix of modern and medieval was also very interesting and extremely picturesque We love visiting houses, museums and gardens, and Marrakech has the famous Yves St Laurent garden that inspired Alan Titchmarsh in so many of his ground force makeovers; so we saw the cobalt blue and numerous cactuses. More by luck than judgement we just happened to be in Morocco on the day of the Marrakech marathon. It is always interesting to watch how events are organised in other countries, and maybe take a leaf out of their book on how to organise traffic. We watched the 10k race for quite some time. This is it when we first started watching: After about 45 minutes, the drivers were getting a little bit impatient, and the three traffic police on duty were struggling to hold them back, but the runners kept on going. As we carried on walking we could see that the race had caused a little bit of congestion We loved visiting the riads in the medina. Outside you can see nothing but tiny little streets, and high red walls, but when you get inside there are beautiful floors, ceilings, courtyards, and of course - cats Marrakech is a great place for a winter break. I am really looking forward to going back - I might even enter the marathon!
The phrase "intrepid traveller" does not describe me. I am very reluctant to move out of my comfort zone, and I tend to imagine the worst things that might happen when travelling abroad. This reluctance has not been helped by some of my experiences at airports. The very first of these was over thirty years ago when we arrived at Bournemouth a day early for our flight to Spain. This might not seem much to you, but the sarcastic comments I received from my then husband completely demoralised me. Somehow, if it is really important to check that I've got everything then I deliberately don't - so back in the days when you had to have tickets we arrived at Gatwick to send my son to Gibraltar, and I had left the ticket at home. This then involved having to buy another ticket, and send him from Heathrow. If there is a mistake to be made with the time then I will make it. This resulted in a drive at breakneck speed to Bilbao airport because I had muddled up the time of the flight with the time of our coach back to Southampton. Even our usually laidback Spanish friends panicked a bit over that one. Christopher loves to travel, and is always hoping I might become more adventurous; however he has been resigned to forever staying in Europe, or maybe going somewhere safe like New Zealand. So he was astonished when I suggested going to Marrakech - yes I suggested it, and it came about like this: I was listening to Classic FM, and they were running an advert for the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra playing a concert in - wait for it - Marrakech, only three hours away. "Aha" I thought, "How bad can it be if the BSO go there?" So Marrakech was the destination for our first ever winter break. We stayed in a riad, which is an upmarket bed and breakfast establishment and we were in the heart of the medina, the old town. The first thing we did was to have a cup of tea, which made us feel right at home, although I must admit that I prefer it with milk. Once we settled into our room we were off to make the pilgrimage to one of the most famous squares in the world - the Jemaa el-Fnaa - a UNESCO World Heritage site, although I didn't know it at the time. The first thing that happened was that a man approached me waving a snake, which made me nearly jump out of my skin, although not literally. I knew there were snake charmers in the square, but it was only two days later that I realised that the snake was made of wood and he wanted me to buy it. Jemaa el-Fnaa is a place of entertainment and somewhere to eat. My favourite food was served in the square - we had kebabs, salad and Moroccan sweets several times. The picture on the left is the closest I ever got to the snake charmers. However, there was another kind of animal life that was absolutely everywhere, and that was the cats. They were in the square, restaurants, museums, parks and even in the Royal tombs. They weren't shy and retiring either, the ginger tom in the picture at the top was very quick to let us know that he wasn't keen on us sitting on his terrace. Everywhere we went we were treated with politeness, although it was clear that we were expected to buy numerous articles and eat at every restaurant. The only place where we did not get what we wanted was on our caleche drive. We thought that we had negotiated a two hour drive round the city walls and gates; what we got was a one hour drive round the new town. Still, this did give us great views of the Atlas mountains. Before I went to Marrakech I was warned that it would be a real culture shock for me. Well although it was amazingly different, there were so many different cultures that I just didn't know which one to be shocked at. I think it was the most exciting holiday I've been on, so be prepared for more tales from Marrakech.
Ladies and gentlemen, please let me introduce Brugge to you. It is an enchantingly pretty little city just a short journey from Southampton via the M25 and the Channel tunnel. Well, when I say short, I am being just a little bit economical with the truth - although it depends what you mean by short. Anyone who has ever driven on the M25 will know that to get to your destination on time it is best to allow two hours leeway. We did that, and still missed our train by over two hours. Still, the great thing about the train is that there's always another one. How to describe Brugge - well it is like Amsterdam, except there are no drugs, no red light areas, and no hen or stag parties. In short it is totally and utterly suitable for me. The buildings in Brugge are largely medieval in origin, and any new build fits in with the ambience of the city. Tourism is very important, and the local businesses go out of their way to accentuate the chocolate box aura. While we were there they were getting ready for the Christmas markets - the lights were absolutely magical. People in Brugge seem to delight in being twee, and add all sorts of finishing touches to their windows and doors. In the city there are very few cars. This is because they have the largest underground car park that I have ever seen. Once you have found the entrance it is absolutely excellent and very cheap. There are a variety of ways of getting round the city, all of them charming. However, we preferred to walk and take in the atmosphere. It is possible to view Brugge as a very self-satisfied wealthy city, but it is only a hundred years ago that this part of Belgium was at the heart of the Great war, and we were fortunate enough to see some of the remembrance activities taking place. The church bells played 'Roses are shining in Picardy' and 'Its a long way to Tipperary', and the bands marched. Belgian beer is very pleasant, although there is not as much choice as there is in Britain in a real ale pub. Also it is a little bit expensive. One evening we had three drinks each, and the bill was 23 Euros. "Not bad." I said to Christopher, to which he replied "20 pounds for just over two pints." So there we have it, it just depends which way you look at it. There are pieces of sculpture all over the city - some modern and some traditional. My favourites were the four horsemen of the apocalypse, the fountain above the underground car park, and the flowers by Frank Van Acker. We decided that we would have one day away from the Brugge, and visit Ypres. This was very problematic to start with, as Satnav did not recognise any such town. It didn't make any difference how many times I typed it in. Then I had an inspiration - I remembered that Satnav is sensitive to the country that the town is in, so I tried Ypres in France. No, that was no good. It took quite a lot of consultation of the guide book to realise that we needed the Flemish spelling, which is Ieper, not Leper as I first thought. We also visited some Commonwealth and German war graves. It was not an enjoyable visit exactly, but something I am extremely glad that I had the opportunity to do. Back in Brugge, we had just an evening left to enjoy some more beer and cake. I love being European, particularly in places like Amsterdam and Brugge, where it is assumed that the language of choice is English. However, they still have something to learn about the use of the apostrophe. Either that or there is an Irish branch of the explorer's family.
I think it would be fair to say that Norfolk has not featured heavily in the great events that make up the history of our kingdom. Their historic buildings are mainly barns and windmills, and their historic documents seem to consist of a bunch of letters detailing the price of sheep. However, holidaymakers and tourists appear very welcome - more so than the local people themselves. For example, in the tearoom - "Oh yes, you are welcome to use the toilets, we just don't want boat owners using them." Or in the pub - "Yes, you can use the car park for free, we just don't want the locals taking advantage of it." Signs and menus are also extremely helpful - we particularly liked the one in the pub that offered Jam Sponge with a Choice of Sides. As we chugged through little settlements on the banks of the river we were not surprised that most gardens refused to allow mooring and said so in no uncertain terms; after all the owners need to maintain their exclusivity. The message that said: PLEASE DO NOT THROW STONES AT THIS SIGN did disconcert us however. Up to that moment we had not considered throwing stones at any sign, but when the thought is put in your head it becomes very tempting. Norfolk is really, really flat. Sometimes the view was quite interesting, but didn't take your breath away with its grandeur At other times swans and windmills just composed themselves into chocolate box pictures that demanded to be painted. Although we live in a wonderful place - the glorious city of Southampton - we don't tend to look at the sky a great deal; but there is one thing Norfolk has a lot of, and that is sky. So we spent a lot of time looking at it and taking photographs of it. Now, back to history and the making of a Broads icon - not my words, but those of the Norfolk Archaeological Trust about St Benet's Abbey. This is a very small ruin that had a mill built on it, and it can be seen for quite a distance in all directions. It's main claim to fame appears to be that it had some medieval fishponds and there was a riot there in 1381. The abbey has been visited for many, many years, and not everyone has treated the building with care.Still it all adds to life's rich tapestry. We started our holiday in by St Benet's, and we ended it there. So we say farewell to Norfolk, we shall return. The culinary travels were the sausages.
Twenty years ago we went to Norfolk for a holiday. I absolutely hated it; there was nothing whatever to do; the scenery was awful; the cottage was incredibly uncomfortable; we had to pay to park on a piece of mud, and although the holiday was free I still felt that we had been overcharged. With the benefit of hindsight I can't help feeling that I might have over-reacted somewhat - possibly owing to the fact that I was seven months pregnant and could neither drink in the pubs nor walk in the countryside. However, I have never contemplated the idea of returning to Norfolk until this year. When I was a lot younger I loved canal holidays, and now that we are able to go out of season it seemed like the perfect idea, until we discovered how outrageously expensive narrow boats are! Broads' holidays, on the other hand, were within our price range. So we put our prejudices aside and booked ourselves up to return to the outpost of the United Kingdom that is East Anglia. September has been a perfect month, but we were going in October - still I bought a five litre box of red wine and hoped for the best. When we arrived in Acle and saw our trusty ship we immediately saw why the holiday was so reasonably priced. Although the boat was clean and tidy and perfectly serviceable, it is fair to say that it was furnished in seventies chic Added to that the Golden Bridge had the shape and manoeuvrability of the Gosport Ferry, and so you can guess that although we had had no experience of boating for over twenty five years we weren't actually that worried about causing any damage - to our boat anyway. When you go on a boating holiday you get approximately twenty minutes tuition whether you need it or not and then you are on your own. Our guide explained how to start, stop, moor and recommended some places to go. I don't think my conversational powers were at their height - I actually asked him if there were any nice pubs on the Broads. He treated that question with the contempt it deserved, said goodbye and pushed us off. Now, Norfolk does have its own unique ambience. It is extremely flat, and that is disconcerting even for someone who lives in Southampton which is not exactly the mountainous capital of England. This means the landscape is made up of loads and loads of sky, and it is very scenic when you get used to it. A typical day on the boat could be compared to being in the British Army - periods of relative tranquillity interspersed with moments of abject terror as we approached the mooring moment. Once we had moored up we had to recover in the pub, and that's where the beer and baguettes came into their own Even though we were never more than a mile away from what passes for civilisation in Norfolk, when we were on the water it was incredibly peaceful but also strangely exciting. I had brought knitting and reading to do, but while we were travelling I didn't want to do anything except look out over the water. We were rewarded by views of herons, kingfishers and otters, as well as so many ducks, swans, cormorants and geese that they were too common to be commented on. They take the business of looking after ducks seriously in Norfolk. By the end of the holiday we had just got the hang of stopping, starting, turning and mooring. We also were free with our criticism of those other holidaymakers who dared to go at six miles per hour - that is an outrageous speed. We had the last laugh as our careful use of fuel earned us a £100 refund. So I won't wait another twenty years before I return
There are times when it is just a wonderful thing to be a supporter of Southampton football club. This week is one of them, and so at the risk of being repetitive, here is the story of our triumphant journey into Wales. Whenever we visit Swansea the weather is always great, and Saturday was no exception. We usually go to the beautiful Mumbles first but we were pressed for time, as Oscar and Phil had been football training. Satnav is a complete boon if the operators are capable of tapping in the correct postcode. I was driving and so Phil was in charge of navigating. The problem was that Satnav did not seem to realise that there is a city called Swansea. It offered us Swanscombe and Swindon, but no Swansea. Only after the fourth attempt did we realise that we had to change the country from England to Wales. That done, we were on course to arrive at the Liberty Stadium by half past one - plenty of time to stop at a services and have a lovely Latte. Well, it was the worst Latte I have ever had - the barista just didn't seem to know what he was doing, he didn't bang and crash anywhere near enough and we received a luke-warm weak flat white coffee with the smallest spoon ever seen to stir it with. Did we complain? Of course not. Onwards we went to the great England/Wales divide - the Severn bridge. We still had plenty of time - estimated arrival two o clock, lovely scenery considering we were on the motorway; then we slowed to a standstill and queued for forty five minutes for the privilege of paying to enter Wales. Why charge £6.40 - it is absolutely guaranteed to slow everything up as no one had the right money except us. Now we were cutting it really fine, and it was only by being able to travel at an average speed of eighty five miles per hour that we arrived just as they were kicking off. The least said about the first half the better - we were completely outplayed. However we cheered up when Bony was sent off, and indeed that did prove a turning point Swansea supporters are very passionate and very loud. When they sing Land of Our Fathers it does send a shiver down the spine. However, there is one of them that I would find it very difficult to sit next to week after week, and that is the one with the drum. How on earth they stand it I don't know. Luckily he is one of those people that leaves early to get his half time drink and comes back late. During the second half Southampton were the dominant team, and there were scenes of jubilation when Wanyama scored. Southampton supporters come from all over the place, and they are happy to advertise the fact - Weymouth Saints and Isle of Wight Saints are well established groups of supporters. However I think this particular group get the prize for being the cheekiest: So, another successful awayday and now for something to eat. The Liberty stadium is set in a shopping centre that has a number of restaurants so we went for Ben and Jerry's. The latte here was just right, even down to the length of the spoon. There is a certain feeling of wellbeing that can only be had when driving back from an away game that your team has won. Tuning into the phone-in and listening to the disgruntled supporters of other teams is entertaining, and the icing on the cake was provided when the Southampton supporter from the Isle of Wight berated Robbie Savage for predicting at the start of the season that we would be relegated. He ungraciously accepted that perhaps he had been wrong and maybe we would finish in the top half of the division. Still just for this week we will bask in the glory of being second in the premiership table.
It is not always easy being a supporter of Southampton football club. Someone told me that Southampton fans had seen their team lose more times than any other group of supporters in any division. That was when we were hanging on to the premiership by our fingertips back in the 1990s. However, over the past few seasons we have had more good times than bad, and away days with my brother Phil and nephew Oscar are great fun, although sometimes the match can bring the mood down a bit. Away matches at West Ham have been particularly traumatic for Phil - he's been five times and always seen us lose. Last season was especially hard to take as we consider ourselves to be exponents of the beautiful game, and West Ham just lump it up the field; losing 3 - 1 didn't seem fair somehow, and then we had to take the abuse and gloating of the home supporters. We agreed then and there that we would never go back. So when this season's fixture list came out the conversation went something like this: "Shall we go to West Ham?" "Ok then" We were not in an optimistic mood as we set off on Saturday - according to Sky TV the heart has been ripped out of our team and we are favourites to be relegated. Add to that our abysmal record at the Boleyn ground and it seemed that all we had to look forward to was the meal on the way home. Upton Park is not in a beautiful part of London, but it is really the last time we will see it because they are moving into the Olympic Stadium next season. It seemed as if the afternoon would go the way of all games at West Ham when we went one nil down. Home supporters were asking us where our players were, and gloom had settled on us. But then suddenly Morgan Schneiderlin scored, and the day just got better and better Winning away gives you such a buzz. It makes waiting for an hour in a queue for the tube worthwhile, especially when we've got a restaurant to choose for a meal. We were not going to eat round Upton Park, but got off at Embankment and wandered towards Charing Cross. There are so many reasonable restaurants and Oscar chose Lulivo's in Villiers Street as he wanted spaghetti bolognese. The waiters and waitresses were so jolly and absolutely delightful to Oscar - they all knew that we had won and they wanted to know all about the game. The pizzas were delicious - made more so as we still had a warm glow from the result. So our first away day of the season came to an end - roll on Swansea and the Mumbles.
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Wendy StokesArchives
August 2015
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