Sunday 26 March 2017

Waking up from winter


Right. Let's get this out of the way.

I am certain that very few of my readers have the same outlook as I, in relation to the end of winter and the beginning of spring.  

This magnificent cherry graces the garden of one of our neighbours here in Epsom


It's not that I'm anti-spring as such, it's just that when spring arrives I know that summer is only lurking around the corner. *Groan*

Naturally you'd have to be very hard-bitten indeed not to find some joy in the season itself, and spring in the south-east of England is delightful, thankfully bearing no resemblance to the headlong plunge into hell that it can be in Australia - winter one day, then suddenly a baking 28ºC.

Spring in this neck of the woods is delicate blossoms, trees just coming into bud, lush green grass and gently twittering birds.

Kevin flanked by an avenue of daffodils at Polesden Lacey



Bountiful clematis at National Trust property,  Polesden Lacey

We've made the most of a couple of pleasant weekends to get out and see spring in action. It's early days, with the daffodils still in flower, the bluebells in abundant evidence leaf-wise but a long way off flowering, and most trees still in a state of winter nakedness.

Yesterday we drove over to Ightham Mote, a National Trust property not far from Sevenoaks.


The moat and gatehouse - Ightham Mote, Kent


The former stables at Ightham Mote in Kent.
Some lucky blighters now live here - it's been converted to housing

This was a new NT property for us, and we were lured by the prospect of a robust walk around the estate as much as we were by the appeal of the 14th century manor moated manor house.

The walk did not disappoint, with the 7km trail meandering along winding lanes, past oast houses and cottages, and up a pretty challenging incline to reach the top of Wilmot Hill - worth the effort for the magnificent views across The Weald.


What a beautiful day to walk the Estate - we did a 7km loop
with a couple of fairly challenging climbs


Selfie in the sunshine - with the glories of The Weald behind us
(on top of Wilmot Hill, Ightham Mote estate, Kent)





Yep - this one'll do, thanks.
What a fabulous spot for a cottage, all by itself at the base of Wilmot Hill


The house at Ightham Mote is ancient, with part of the building dating from the 14th century and additions representing various centuries beyond. The property was painstakingly taken apart and reconstructed - brick by brick, beam by beam - between 1989 and 2004 in one of the most expensive and lengthy conservation projects in the National Trust's history. Interestingly, the decision was made to restore some parts of the house not to their original state but to the way they were at the time it was bequeathed to the National Trust by American Charles Henry Robinson, in 1985. I agree with this course of action; National Trust properties deserve to show their complete history - not just their origins.

There's a real warmth to this place, and I personally loved the drawing room with its incredible hand-painted wallpaper (I am a chinoiserie zealot), the library with dancing sunlight reflected from the moat outside, and the two John Singer Sargent paintings - particularly the portrait of Elsie Palmer which was painted by Sargent at Ightham Mote back in 1890, and which only a few weeks ago went on display (it's on loan from an American art gallery). How lucky we were to time our visit so that we got to see this very striking portrait.


Cascading purple on the moat wall, Ightham Mote in Kent


Oh, the gorgeousness of this hand-painted chinoiserie wallpaper!
It's been adorning the walls of Ightham Mote's drawing room since 1780


The orchard at Ightham Mote - fruit trees in bud, and a sea of daffodils


The central courtyard at Ightham Mote, Kent





Dwarf magnolia at Ightham Mote, Kent


We are too early in the season to enjoy the full bounty of spring, however we aren't complaining too loudly. Days like this are a constant reminder of why we've chosen to live in England. Rambling about the countryside for a few hours with blue sky overhead, bracing spring breeze at our backs, the chirruping of birds in the hedgerows - with no threat from venomous spiders or snakes - and centuries of history on display... the only thing to mar the day was the inevitable frustration of queuing for nearly 15 minutes to get a cup of tea in the NT café (and they had run out of Darjeeling so I had to make do with the rubbish 'National Trust blend'. Grrrr). 

But then I weigh up the pluses and the minuses and decide I should keep my whining gob shut - I remember the countryside, the sense of humour, and the mellifluous tones of Benedict Cumberbatch's baritone voice. I can put up with the odd queue.




Stay tuned for another post from Tuscany - we're heading back to Casa di Lyndall, where we spent Easter last year. We're keen to see how the garden has come on, knowing that Lyndall spent months doing back-breaking work to establish it last autumn, and can't wait to be back in the Chianti region generally where everything just tastes better and the Italians do everything with such style.

FYI you can live your own Tuscan dream for a few days or a week or two, as Casa di Lyndall is now up and running on AirBnB - click here for details.

Spring plantings at Polesden Lacey


Until next time,
- Maree  xo

Thursday 9 March 2017

Mooching around Mayfair

This is just a 'mini' post - I went into London on Monday and wanted to share a few photos.




Last year the Director of my work team instituted something called the I Feel Fantastic day - an extra day of leave that each member in the team can apply to take once a year. The only proviso is that you have to spend the day doing something fun.

I applied for my day a few weeks ago, saying I wanted to attend the new exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts. It celebrates the art of the early Soviet era - of which I am a huge fan. See the promo video here.

My submission described a young pinko-commie-leftie Sydney girl who in the late 70s and early 80s could be found lurking in various grotty locations, clutching her copy of Green Left Weekly and scrounging together the meagre entrance fee for the latest vegetarian Socialist Party fundraiser, where we'd all sit around discussing the 'means of production' and debating the merits of marxist / leninist / trotskyist theory.

The boss was tickled pink by my submission ('our most cerebral yet') and I was granted the day off.



The Royal Academy of Arts


I don't have many photos from the actual exhibition because of course you're not supposed to take photos inside, however I did sneak one that my conscience told me was OK because it was only a reproduction of the Letatlin - a glider that artist creator Vladimir Tatlin believed would become a household item, as common as bicycles, with children being taught to fly at a young age. You can read more about this fascinating concept here.

The image of three schoolboys beneath this piece was a bonus; I think Letatlin would be chuffed to know that 85 years later kids were being entertained by his vision.


Recreated Letatlin by Vladimir Tatlin
(aah, this photo I took makes me think of the song Three Imaginary Boys by The Cure)


Paintings by Brodsky, Malevich, Kandinsky and Chagall were highlights for me, as were the excerpts of early Soviet film by Eisenstein, the examples of fine china repainted with propagandist design, and a full-scale model of a utopian apartment design that was meant to provide functional, modern housing for the entire proletariat but which of course never came to fruition.

But most affecting of all was the great sadness of the Room of Memory - a tiny cinema continuously screening mugshots of hundreds of Stalin's exiled, starved and executed victims from the purges of the 1930s.

Despite noble origins - the liberation of millions of poverty stricken, illiterate Russians from the shackles of a monarchist regime of obscene wealth and privilege - we know communism descended into horror in the space of 25 years. This is a subject that's always fascinated me, the fact that the worst side of human nature seems to nearly always overtake a genuine desire for equality. I still believe there is a better way than the hell of capitalism in which we now live. 


  • Go to school
  • Work your whole life paying your mortgage and saving for your retirement (Ha! There's a concept with a limited shelf-life)
  • Die. 


That's really what our modern life amounts to.

Anyway, on a brighter note... as I was browsing in the gift store a very distinctive and familiar voice next to me made my head snap up - and blow me down, there was your actual Alan Davies heading into the exhibition, but not before lining up with everyone else to get his audio guide.



Alan Davies lining up like all the ordinary people, to get his audio guide


The Royal Academy is smack-bang in the heart of Mayfair, an area of unbelievable wealth.

This is such an opulent part of London - all the designers are represented and of course the UK flagship stores of world famous retailers like Tiffany & Co are here too.

I enjoyed window shopping and exploring the beautiful arcades, and imaging what life must be like to be able to shop there. It's so far outside my frame of reference that I can't fathom it. Were I to darken any of their doorsteps, the staff of these stores would take about 3.5 seconds to review my attire and general lack of expensive accoutrements, and immediately dismiss me as an imposter / tourist / browser.


Fortnum & Mason - lovely, but vastly overpriced


Sconce on Fortnum's exterior


One of the window displays at Fortnum's


The whisky / cognac display at Fortnum's



Piccadilly Arcade - it runs between Piccadilly and Jermyn Street



New & Lingwood - for all your smoking jacket needs


A book-lover's heaven at Hatchard's, the oldest bookstore in the UK
(it was founded in 1797)



The gorgeous Royal Arcade, which runs between Old Bond Street & Albemarle Street


Amazing window display in Moncler, Old Bond Street



I indulged myself in a pot of waaaaaaay overpriced tea in Fortnum and Mason. It was served up in a tiny pot with a chipped and cracked spout - and for this privilege I was being charged £5.95 (yes, you read that correctly). 

Am I the sort of person to take this lying down? Those of you who know me already have the answer to that. Suffice to say I left Fortnum's without having to pay for my tea. I will not be returning.




Cardinal House, Albemarle Street
*Swoon!*

What a day of contrasts - the socialist ideals and privations of communist Russia, followed by a stroll around one of the bastions of capitalism. 

It was a good day. I felt fantastic.

Until next time,
- Maree  xo