Showing posts with label New Forest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Forest. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Day 39. Rockbourne. Sept 14 2001

Tessa picked us up today for a trip to the Roman Villa that had been unearthed at Rockbourne.

 
It was very nice spending time with Tessa. The villa was fascinating, though not much remained. It had been the home of wealthy Romans for hundreds of years and sprawled over a huge area.

 
The layout of the tour was interesting as you were forced to walk out to the farthest corner then back, then back and forth again. But it was fascinating to look at the mosaic floors in situ. One floor was in the shape of a swastika and it brought home the fact that Hitler had appropriated roman symbols wholesale to try and give his third Reich legitimacy as the heir to the Roman Empire and hence to Europe.

 

Strange that most of Hitler’s Germany had never been a part of Rome.
The villa also had a large quantity of archeological items. Most of them lost millennia ago or thrown out with the trash. Spring shears and buttons and strigils, all a cross section of life on a very wealthy farm, wealthy enough to boast two separate bath structures. The first was obviously built in haste, to give the property legitimacy as a roman dwelling. The second was obviously the product of wealth.

 
With the possibilities of Rockbourne exhausted we went with Tessa to the local town of Fordingbridge, a beautiful town on the river Avon.


We stood on the bridge watching the water swirl beneath us as Tessa told us tales of their family trips on the canals in narrowboats. It sounds like enormous fun but a little expensive for our style of travel.

From Fordingbridge Tessa took us back to their place with a new route in the New Forest. We passed by Pig Bush where the Ormans had once lost a dog, only to have him walk home, many miles away.

Tessa had us over for dinner, which we shared with Paul and their children Megan and Thomas. Their daughter Amy was in Canada. Thomas went to bed early and Paul was tired from working night shifts at the esso plant at Fawley. But Tessa and Megan stayed awake quite late and we played games. Heather and Megan won but Tessa and I were only a single point behind in a game to fifty points. I must say that we went home very tired but that the day was one of the most exciting and fun we have had since we’ve stopped in Holbury.

Next Entry: Day 40. Hurst Castle
Previous Entry: Day 38. Old Sarum

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Yachts Anyone?

Greetings and salutations to all:

We are now safely ensconced in Brian and Sylvia’s house in Holbury, as they visit our parents in Calgary ironically enough, and we thought that we’d share our most recent news with you while we have the chance.

We left Colin and Hayley’s in high spirits, glad of our rest and eager to ride forth on our bikes once more. A mile later we were less excited and already moaning for the comforts of Rolls Mills farmhouse. That day I’m afraid we both earned the title of Fearful Voyager. The first day back on the seat of a bike was more painful than the day we left Audrey and Den’s; Colin and Hayley had let us relax too much (yes, that’s it, its their fault) so we had lost whatever biking edge we had developed.

We stopped that first day at a place known as the Badbury Rings, more from exhaustion than any real desire to explore. But it turned out to be a fortuitous stop. The Rings were the defensive fortifications of an ancient town that sat at the cross roads of four major Roman roads. Most intriguingly, for the Fearful Voyager at least, was the fact that the Rings were a candidate for Mount Badon, the place were King Arthur defeated the invading Saxons and united England for a time. Since the Rings could hardly be classified as a mountain the association is unlikely, but it was neat none the less.

We carried on from there to the town of Wimborne, where we found a small, out of the way campground that had, wonder of wonders, a swimming pool. We immediately determined to stay an extra day in the place, our sore bottoms playing only a small role in our decision.

The next day the Fearful Voyager magically transmogrified into Dr. Colin Orman, while Heather, the Brave Traveller, became Mrs. Hayley Orman. Using our new alias’ we gained entry to the National Trust Property of Kingston Lacy, a manor house that would be a little beyond the price range of all our friends…combined I’m afraid.

We toured the inside of the magnificently decorated building, The Fearful Voyager being a bit snobby about the paintings of Greek legends and the Brave Traveller gasping loudly at the paintings she recognised from her years of attentive study. Unfortunately the Velasquez was a copy but the Titian and the Van Dyck were genuine (Don’t worry if that is meaningless to you, it was to me). The Fearful Voyager also found the fact that the dinning room was adorned with paintings all depicting famous cases of sexual assault somewhat suspicious, but who can understand the super rich?

That night we retired to our campground and the pools. Ah yes the pool, how we longed to bath our sore muscles in relaxing warm waters. Warm…like Canadian winters perhaps. The Brave Traveller well earned her title this day by plunging head first into the subzero waters and paddling about like a contented polar bear. The Fearful Voyager earned his title as well, taking a good three quarters of an hour to get into the water up to his knees! What an insane wife the poor Fearful Voyager has!

From Wimborne we biked a long trip through some really twisted, not mentally, roads along the British coast and entered the New Forest, new as in 900 years old. Heather was delighted by the heather and Brendan was …nope shouldn’t say that! The heather was a purple carpet coating everything except the New Forest ponies, and sometimes even them.

After passing Bealieu Heath, possibly the windiest place on earth, we stopped in the small town of Bealieu, near to the birthplace of the Fearful Voyagers grandmother. Here we called Kerry and Simon Topp, who lived nearby in Holbury, to arrange a time to meet them…no answer. We called again…no answer. One ice cream cone later we braved the open heath land of the New Forest once more and pedalled to Holbury where at the first phone we called again, only to have their son, Josh, step of their house and wave us over. Kerry and Simon quickly escorted us to their parents house, hand over nose, so that we could shower, and then proceeded to stuff us with food.

The next day, or soon thereafter (days kind of blur for us) we were taken to Portchester Castle, to see our very first medieval tournament. Heather was enthralled by the archery and falconry displays, while I enjoyed watching idiots on horseback run at each other with long pieces of wood and expect to survive. Our guy won, even if we were only cheering for him because we happened to be standing by his tent, but hey, take your wins were you can. Kerry and Simon became the Bravest Travellers ever by purchasing their three children wooden swords and bows! We took a side trip to Portsmouth Ferry terminal where we were told a trip to Spain would cost around £250, only five times the expected price! After leaving and reading the companies brochure we discovered the price to be £44 so now we must work that out, but it gives us the opportunity to stay for Sam Middleditch’s birthday party, next Saturday.

The next day Heather and I took advantage of significantly lightened bikes (dropping our panniers off at Brian and Syl’s) and biked down to Lepe Beach. For those who are not British I should clarify that anything called a beach in England might qualify as a gravel road at home. The Brave Traveller was delighted to see her tree still standing, the one in the picture titled "Roots" for art enthusiasts and proud print owners.

Today we are being hosted by the Middleditches (I remind Nick that all names are spelt phonetically!), Nick and Maxine, who have kindly excused my eccentricity as I got over to their house and disappeared from sight into the computer room.. I’m not a recluse, really. Maxine, the decorator of our cake by the way, has promised to show me to a photo developer so I can send pictures home (I’m getting pretty anxious to see my fingerprints enlarged fifty times). We have also been promised a visit to the local candy store. I think Nick and Colin have an arrangement on the side. Nick rots our teeth and they split Colin’s dentist fee!

Next on our agenda is Spain, with a week or two rest and argument with P&O ferries first, but at least the ferry terminal is only a bike ride away. So until the next time I can write, hope everyone is well wherever you happen to be, and we will contact you as soon as we can again.

Love

The Brave Traveller and the Fearful Voyager

P.S. If anyone owns a really big yacht could they please ferry us over to Spain? Or maybe we can hook pontoons to the bikes, hmmm……

P.P.S. If anyone see’s Brian and Sylvia while we have switched places, Nick gently reminds Brian that he was given a single, simple, task to do from Canada

Next Entry: Sept 11. 2001.
Previous Entry: Topless Women Ride Free

Day 35. Marchwood. Sept 10 2001

Today was to be spent traveling all over the New Forest in the company of Nick and Maxine Middleditch. Unfortunately Nick was unable to get his car fully insure and so we spent the day at their home in Marchwood, a small town in the greater Southampton area.

Before we left Brian and Sylvia's we had the opportunity to meet the neighbors, who commented salaciously on the fact that we have not opened the curtains on our bedroom since we have arrived. The truth is that we couldn’t be bothered to open and close them every day, but now, knowing that all the neighbors are peering into our windows the curtains will most certainly remain closed.

Nick and Maxine house was small, a perfect little place.We got the opportunity to use the Internet and we sent out a mass email. We were lucky to be online at the same time as Edna, and we kind of chatted across thousands of kilometers. It was thrilling to speak to her but sent thrills of homesickness through us.

After Emily and Sam (the children) were sent off to bed and we had chatted awhile with the Middleditches we decided to go home. Nick took us on a little drive into the very quaint town of Eling with it's very small marina, tidal mill and many pubs.

It was lit in a soft yellow light that made it seem like a town from ancient history with flame for streetlights. In Eling we were delivered to an Aladdin’s cave of candy. A store that appealed to sweet teeth with a collection of old style candies and new style chocolate bars. Our purchases started off light but rapidly grew.
We spent the night watching movies and gorging ourselves on our new candy until we were sick and we did it all with curtains firmly closed.

Next Entry: Topless Women Ride Free
Previous Entry: Day 34. Lepe

Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Day 31. Holbury Sept 6 2001

What a long ride today. We slept late, forgoing the morning swim we had planned on and, hopping on our bikes, we were on our way.

The first stage, though a little confusing, passed in relative ease. There even was a path for a large portion of the Bournemouth journey. We biked from milestone to milestone, first following the signs that pointed to Bournemouth then Christchurch then Lymington, Beaulieu and finally Holbury.

We managed to make it to Lymington, with only a brief pause for groceries and a jaunt inside a local library to find a copy of Hesiod, before we truly needed to stop.

Lymington is a beautiful port town with an old quay and high street. I must admit that it seemed to have shrunk a lot since I was last here. How perception changes as you age.


From Lymington we were forced to go uphill, a curse word for bikers, onto the Beaulieu heath portion of our trip. The heath was beautiful, a portion of the New Forest (which is 900 years old, instead of the young 400 I had thought) that was covered in a carpet of heather and dotted with ponies.

Unfortunately it was blasted by a blistering wind. It was, if such a thing is possible, even worse than going uphill. Still we made it to Beaulieu, though Heather, who was in the lead, biked right past the correct turn and kept going, me yelling behind. We will see who leads next time!

Not being able to reach Kerry from Beaulieu we continued on to Holbury and called from the nearest phone box, which was, incidentally, right near their house. After meeting and greeting we were shipped off to Brian and Sylvia Orman’s where we could shower and shave before returning for a pizza dinner.

It was during this respite that we discovered that Heather’s pannier rack had broken. Sometimes I swear her bike is cursed.

The Topp family was a bundle of energy, their littlest shying away from me, their middle child, Cameron, delighting in his ability to pass wind and their eldest, Josh, becoming quite smitten with Heather, a feeling I understand, she being beautiful, foreign and mine.

We stayed up quite late drinking with Kerry and Simon, discussing their plans to move to Australia and stumbling home rather drunk. And now I’m afraid I will be forced to change pens once more.

 

Next Entry: Day 32. Holbury
Previous Entry: Day 30. Wimbourne