Martin's Mag.

We stayed with Freda for a couple of nights in a village a few miles south of Salisbury. The village is called Alderbury, which is very close to Whaddan. So close, in fact, that they share a village sign:

Alderbury-Whadden in Wiltshire.

We had a very nice day in Salisbury, and, the next day, a meandering trip back along the River Wyle and then the Salisbury Plain.

Salisbury market.

Fungi at Salisbury market.

Salisbury market.

Salisbury Cathedral from cafe.

Salisbury cottage.

Salisbury.

Brave duck.

“Lion” cottage, Salisbury.

Salisbury across fields.

Langford Lakes nature reserve.

Langford Lakes nature reserve.

You’re right, we do seem to spend a lot of time around Bristol docks. The area, including Hotwells and into the old centre of Bristol is very familiar to us, and, although neither of us is a Bristolian, the area is probably the closest we get to a home town.

Today we visited the M Shed, a museum of the history of Bristol, for a photographic portraits exhibition.

Exhibition organised by The National Portrait Gallery, M Shed, Bristol.

One of the many Gromits, with fan.

View of Bristol Harbour through grill of temporary boarding.

Clevedon has a Victorian “pleasure” pier. The “pleasure” was the ability to use it for promenading and for boarding pleasure craft, which were largely unaffected by the tides. Any Victorian pier is, to me, a slight disappointment as I grew up near Southend-on-Sea, which has a mile-and-a-quarter long colossus, complete with train (see previous entry).

However, Clevedon’s is a real gem and, being the cheapskates we are, we took advantage of an evening’s free entrance, saving the magnificent sum of £3.60.

Clevedon pier.

Clevedon pier.

Clevedon pier.

Clevedon pier.

Dekchair design exhibition on Clevedon pier.

Onions, garlic and shallots.

No more onions! – Ed.

Last Christmas my uncle, Ivor, bought us a packet of shallots for our allotment. Yesterday, we lifted them, and a fine sight they were! We also lifted some onions as well as the usual selection of courgettes, peas and runner beans.

Shallots (before lifting, obviously).

Shallots (after lifting, ditto).

The lady of shallots.

Shallots (after sorting out).

Onions from the allotment.

Broad beans, courgettes, potatoes.

Onions, garlic and shallots drying in shed.

The Medway Queen at The Albion Dock, Bristol.

When I was a boy, in the ‘fifties, an annual treat was to board the Paddle Steamer Medway Queen at the end of Southend-on-Sea Pier (an excursion in itself as the pier is a mile and a quarter long and had – has? – a train running its length) and sail south to exotic destinations in Kent, such as Margate and Herne Bay. A highlight of the trip was to visit the engine room, below decks. The engine was massive, oil-fired, made of cast iron with gleaming brass accessories and attended by a number of incredibly well-muscled and tanned dwarfs, who, like the beast they served, were covered in a fine mist of engine oil. No, they can’t have been dwarfs, can they? I have to stop myself imagining that they performed somersaults and juggled spanners as they worked, but, in retrospect, there was certainly an atmosphere of gay theatre about the place. It was very hot and we had to stand behind steel railings. Unintelligible instructions were barked from the captain, way up on the bridge, which arrived via tubes. It was fabulous, darlings! After all this, Herne Bay was, frankly, disappointing with its short, trainless, pier, and I couldn’t wait for the return journey.

I’m not sure if I was aware at the time, but Medway Queen had a proud history, including serving at Dunkirk, rescuing 7,000 men, and minesweeping duties during the war.

After contributing to my childhood memories, she was withdrawn from service in 1963, opened as a nightclub for a while on the Isle of Wight then, in the ’70s and early ’80s, lay derelict.

But, the good news is that she was returned to Chatham, the Medway Queen Preservation Society formed and, to cut a long story short, she was moved to the Albion dry dock in Bristol in 2009 for extensive restoration work. [Note to self: Phone Lloyd-Webber; there must be a musical in this.]

This weekend Bristol held its Harbour Festival, a get-together for anyone interested in boats of all types. We went early on Saturday (because we’d seen the weather-forecast) and I visited the restored hull of Medway Queen. I was talking to one of the volunteers and mentioned that I travelled on the boat, as a small boy, from Southend to Herne Bay. He said that he had lived in Herne Bay when a child and was taken by his parents on the boat to Southend. Now that would have been a day out!

We laughed. Albeit briefly.

The Medway Queen at The Albion Dock, Bristol.

Canal narrow boats at Bristol Harbour Festival. The famous Brunel’s Buttery in the background, still serving breakfasts.

Grommit statue in Millenium Square, Bristol.

A sweet stall at Bristol Harbour Festival.

Steam-powered boats at Bristol Harbour Festival.

Steam-powered boat from Prince’s Bridge, Bristol Harbour Festival.

Steam-powered boat at Bristol Harbour Festival.

Bristol Harbour Festival.

Railway truck at Bristol Harbour.

Flats next to Bristol Harbourside.

A part of the Welsh coast that we don’t know well is north of St Davids and south of Aberystwyth. Cardigan is a pleasant town, and the surrounding area is stunning. We took our little camper to a field on a farm overlooking the Coast Path, north of Cardigan Island. We had to wait until the field had been cut and the hay baled before we could pitch camp.

The farm was called Nant y Croy, north of a village called Ferwig. Fairly basic facilities, but spectacular views and lots of donkeys. Dolphins and seals off-shore, fortunately I remembered my binoculars.

Cliffs north of Cardigan with Foel-y-Mwnt in background.

Watching for dolphins.

Very dry corn field with Cardigan in background.

House wall near Cardigan Castle.

The Cardigan cardigan. One of Cardigan’s more tacky attractions. It’s huge and hanging in the Town Hall rafters.

One morning we walked to Mwnt beach, a couple of miles up the coast, and went swimming! It was freezing! S stayed in much longer than I, and swam a lot further.

Mwnt beach, Cardiganshire.

Mwnt, Cardiganshire.

Mwnt, near Cardigan.

Chapel above Mwnt beach.

We also visited New Quay, further up the coast. It’s pretty, but horribly over-commercialised. There were a couple of brave restaurants offering expensive moules and chips, but we weren’t tempted. Much nicer is Aberaeron, further north. with its unexpected late-Georgian architecture.

Aberaeron, Cardiganshire.

Aberaeron, Cardiganshire.

Aberaeron, Cardiganshire.