Saturday 22 July 2017

Goodbyes and New Beginnings



Kevin and I have been sitting on some news for a little while. We've shared it with a few people but not widely. 


Almshouses in Farnham's elegant Castle Street
(the blue plaque reads '
Erected by Andrew Windsow Esq in 1619 for the habitation and relief
of eight poor, honest and impotent persons'
)


If you've known us for any length of time you are probably aware that our first stint of living in the UK came in 2008/09, when Kevin took up a temporary role at Frensham Heights School. One of the science teachers had resigned halfway through the academic year, at reasonably short notice, and the school desperately needed a Physics teacher starting in the New Year. The cry for help made its way around the world, including to Canberra, whence Kevin and I eagerly took advantage of this opportunity. This temporary role included boarding duties and, as such, we had modest accommodation on the school grounds.

We were only supposed to be in the UK for six months, however within a couple of months of us arriving at Frensham, Kevin had been offered a permanent job and we ended up staying for the better part of two years before eventually returning to Australia in September 2009, primarily for family reasons. Living on-site as part of the boarding community was at times frustrating, maddening and challenging, but overall it was a dream come true - to live on a rural estate in the English countryside.

Pretty much ever since that time we have been awaiting a vacancy at Frensham. Indeed, the reason Kevin accepted the job offer with Ewell Castle School three years ago was mainly to get us back into the UK so that we would be poised for any opportunities that arose at Frensham, or in a similar environment.

I'm happy to say that Kevin has been offered a job back at Frensham and we are now in the process of packing up to leave Epsom and move back to the Farnham region.


Frensham Heights School

Autumn early morning - the view from Frensham Heights School



It's ironic that just when we are moving away and I am seriously considering finding another job closer to Farnham, my current job has finally reached some equilibrium with one large chunk of work (occupational health) being handed over to somebody who is capable and efficient and really good fun to share an office with. I juggled occupational health in addition to my own demanding role for nine long months.

Because I am no longer killing myself with 12-hours days, for the first time in a very, very long while I am feeling positive about the future instead of dreading the day / week / month to come.

We are sad to be leaving Winchester House. It's one of the nicest places I've ever lived in terms of immediate surroundings (lots of woodland) and peace and quiet. We have had generally nice neighbours - most of whom have been here the entire time that we have - and despite not wanting to live in a London borough it has been incredibly convenient for meeting up with friends and family staying in London, for attending concerts and other events, and of course I now have a nearly 18-month stint of working in central London on my cv. We have really made the most of our proximity to that great metropolis.


The entrance to Winchester House


One of the many miles of woodland paths running through Epsom Common

We will miss our proximity to Epsom Common and Horton Country Park, and the convenience of being able to nip up to London via a 35-minute train journey.

We'll also miss one of our neighbourhood cats, particularly - the one that looks like they ran out of parts for a white cat, so they rummaged around in the oddments box, found a fluffy dark tail and thought, That'll do... 

But both of us are thrilled to be returning to the area where we have many good friends, and which has so many things to recommend it - deep Surrey countryside with woods, lakes, hills and wildlife. And Farnham itself, surely one of England's nicest Georgian market towns with its beautiful, wide Castle Street (leading up to Farnham Castle and the gigantic Farnham Park behind), independent boutiques and eateries, and arts venues (The Maltings, New Ashridge Gallery etc).



One of the cobbled laneways in Farnham's town centre


Farnham has a plethora of beautiful Georgian buildings
- just look at that pediment! 



The first time we lived in the UK I was very conscious of being a 'stranger in a strange land'. Despite the familiarity of British culture, language, even driving on the same side of the road, I felt like I walked around with a big neon sign above my head, saying FOREIGNER. I never really felt like I had a right to be here.

Certain things really drove me crazy - the dreadful traffic, the hordes of people everywhere (no escape from them, it seemed - certainly not here in the south-east), the diabolically bad coffee, the fact that when you order a cup of tea they automatically put MILK in it - yerrrrrkkkk!

Second time around I am far more relaxed, and I suppose just knowing what to expect is a large part of that. 

The traffic is still insane, there are still way too many people, the coffee has improved somewhat. They still put milk in your tea without asking you - but we have learned to say 'BLACK tea please - no milk!' when ordering. 

I will never get over the Nanny State law that means you can't run a hairdryer in the bathroom (because lord knows, Australians, Americans, Canadians, Asians etc are electrocuted in their thousands every day because they live in uncivilised countries where citizens are unprotected by adequate safety legislation...). 

I will always be annoyed by the propensity of restaurants, pubs and caterers to offer vegetarians nothing but cheese or other forms of dairy. But overall I am now inured to the little foibles of my adopted homeland.


I'm thinking about carrying a supply of these signs
and awarding them to worthy eating establishments


England is indeed feeling more and more like home, as the things that tie me to Australia diminish. Of course there will always be family and friends to miss. Having close friend Lesley in this country for six weeks recently was wonderful. Although we only spent time together at the beginning and end of her time here, somehow just knowing she was in the country was a comfort. It was a wrench when she left to return to Australia.

However my entire life I have felt I did not really belong in Australia - I forever yearned to be elsewhere, definitely somewhere colder and less sunny. Although the UK has its frustrations I am far happier here. Even during those rare periods where the summer temperatures rival those back in Australia, there is a softer edge to the light and the comfort of knowing that the agony will be reasonably short-lived. 


Anybody who knows me personally has probably heard me rant and rave about things that I didn't like about Australia, and still don't. I realise I am incredibly lucky to have been born into a wealthy, multicultural country with many freedoms, with lots of space and numerous other positives. Australia is the place that formed me as a person. I am amazingly fortunate that I will always have the option of returning to the country of my birth. 

Despite those significant factors, at this time I can't imagine myself back in the Great Southern Land. I can't conceive that I will ever feel the great joy in my surroundings that I feel most days here. 

On my walks I still find myself in a sense of wonder - I really live here! 

These centuries-old oak trees are mine to sit beneath, like Orlando as he/she travelled through centuries switching genders (here is a great review of this, my second favourite novel of all time). In fact, I have sat under the very trees that likely sheltered Orlando according that wonderful, magical novel (see my Knole post from last year). 


Those ancient castles, houses and gardens are there for me to wander around whenever I choose.  



Staircase inside Knole House


Fallow deer beneath one of Knole's ancient trees



It's a strongly emotional need for me to walk streets and visit buildings that have seen centuries of life before me. There are only so many times you can visit the comparatively small number of historic buildings in Australia; European civilisation is barely a couple of hundred years old there. Here in the UK and in Europe there are hundreds of thousands of great houses, castles, cottages and inns to explore. 

When I enter an old building I take in everything - the windows, the ceilings, the door handles, even the hinges on the doors. I engage so strongly with the sense of being connected to the past.


Chandelier in the Bath Assembly Rooms


Beautiful, romantic Scotney Castle in Kent


From here, if I feel like going to France I can scoot over by plane, train, automobile or boat. I can be sitting in my cousin's fjord-side home in Norway in a matter of hours. I can even be drinking frozen margaritas with Nancy in Dallas inside of half a day.


And before some of you shout me down with cries of how incredible Aboriginal culture is - one of the oldest civilisations in the world - unfortunately I have never engaged with it on any level. I appreciate that it's unique, and terribly special, but for all the connection I feel with Aboriginal culture, it might as well originate from outer space (no 'Dreamtime' pun intended!). 

There is such a lot to see in the world, and it can't easily be done from the far end of the southern hemisphere, unless you have limitless funds and endless time at your disposal. I have neither of those things, so for now this is where I choose to be.



Our new home in Farnham, from late August


In the past nine years we have moved house four times (this move will be our fifth), in two countries, and I've had eight long(ish) term jobs, plus four or five temporary ones. I suppose that means I am adventurous. Or maybe crazy.


Until next time,
- Maree  xo


Sunday 16 July 2017

Surrey summer in full swing (well, Hampshire actually)



West Green House Garden


*Ugh*

To me, it already feels like we have had a long summer and I am desperate for autumn to be on its way. That's unfortunate, with half of July and all of August yet to come. I tell you, if I hear an English person complain that there's been 'no summer' I will be tempted to slap them.

However, an English summer does bring some positive aspects. There are festivals galore, summer fairs, and oh my goodness - the gardens!


The rose-covered pergola at Polesden Lacey



Shakespeare recital in the rose garden at Polesden Lacey



Look at the height of that cow parsley
- it's like Day of the Triffids!

The long summer days and evenings make for a more leisurely pace. There's no need to hurry home from work and shovel down some dinner in time to race out for an evening walk before dark; it's light until 10pm for many weeks at summer's peak.

In the past couple of months I've met up with various local friends for walks and coffees in numerous beautiful locations, and Kevin and I have enjoyed our usual evening strolls in nearby Epsom Common and Horton Country Park.

This time of year also brings visits from Australian friends and family, and good friend Lesley has just returned home after six weeks exploring gardens, historic houses, antiques stores and churches whilst undertaking Trusted Housesitter assignments in wide-ranging locations. Lesley has had no problem occupying every single day of that period, such is the bounty of attractions available in this country - and in fact she has barely scratched the surface!

I was fortunate enough to join Lesley on a couple of her jaunts, and on her last full day in the UK we met at West Green House Garden in Hartley Wintney, just over the border in Hampshire; about an hour's drive for each of us. 


Outside the café building at West Green House Garden





The pleached hornbeam walk at West Green House Garden


West Green House

This wonderful small property technically belongs to the National Trust, however since the early 1990s it has been leased to renowned Australian garden designer, Marylyn Abbott, whose Kennerton Green garden in Mittagong, New South Wales (about an hour from Sydney) was Australia's most visited garden.

The history of this property is quite dramatic. Prior to Marylyn Abbott taking over the lease, the former tenant Lord Alistair McAlpine was targeted by the IRA who detonated a bomb in the forecourt of the house. The house was badly damaged and the National Trust had to consider demolishing the building. Happily, they committed to undertaking the structural and external repairs, and began the search for a tenant who would complete the internal works, as well as restoring the gardens.

With Lesley having visited Kennerton Green years ago it was a fitting final stop on her garden tour. What a beautiful, tranquil place, with superbly designed plantings, and lots of interest in the form of walls, gates, bridges and meandering paths. It also has the most lovely cafe with excellent coffee - as you would expect from an expatriate Aussie!



The Moon Gate at West Green House Garden

The café at West Green House Garden


Inside the café


Teapot light fixtures in the café



Function area inside the greenhouse at West Green House Garden


Chandelier inside the greenhouse

Stacked gilt chairs add a dash of glamour to the greenhouse 







The Chicken Palace - surely England's most luxurious hen accommodation,
complete with chinoiserie wallpaper and porcelain feed dishes!


Blue temptations in the gift shop

Having explored West Green House Garden for a couple of hours, we drove on to a local pub. My TripAdvisor research once again proved invaluable - I had selected The Mill House in Odiham on the basis of its lovely setting and the menu published on its website. This appeared to be one of those rare venues in England that offers an alternative to wads of cheese as a vegetarian option. Bonus points go to The Mill House for almost being a goat's cheese free zone (they do include goat's cheese on their cheese platter, which I feel is acceptable).



Our lunch venue - The Mill in Odiham, near Hook










Well, blimey, this is one to file away for future reference. What a gorgeous spot, inside and out. There is a vast amount of outdoor seating overlooking the lake, and the interior is all oak beams, wonky floors and leaded windows, it being a Grade II listed watermill.

Very friendly staff was complemented by a great menu with a number of great options for me. I didn't have high hopes when I asked whether the Roast Squash and Red Lentil Tart contained dairy; I was fully expecting the answer to be 'Yes, it's got creme fraiche / yoghurt / soft cheese / ricotta' .... or indeed any combination of several of these items. Experience has taught me to be cynical in this regard. 

Well, smack my ass and call me Judy - no dairy! *winning*

We both enjoyed our food tremendously and I'd happily return.






So for the moment I am coping with summer, despite a couple of week-long periods where we had daily maximum temperatures between 28-35ºC.

Soon Kevin and I will be heading up to Scotland to undertake a Trusted Housesitters assignment for a couple of weeks, and I am hopeful that Scotland will come through with its usual inclement weather - at the very least, we'd have to be very unlucky for it not to be cooler. Fingers crossed.


Soon there will be blackberries to gather - Autumn on the way!


Until next time,
- Maree  xo