Tag Archives: audrey

The road to Grin Low

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Negotiating the walk to the station, rather gingerly
Negotiating the walk to the station, rather gingerly

There was more snow overnight on Friday, and on Saturday we decided to take the train to Manchester. Julia was particularly worried about tricky underfoot conditions on the way to the station, but we managed to reach it unscathed, to find that a return ticket to Manchester, including a tram journey anywhere while there, amounted to £6 each. Since the train journey was an hour long, this seemed to represent absurdly good value for money.

As we neared Manchester, the snow disappeared, until there was no trace at all after Stockport. In Manchester there was a cold wind, but it was sunny. We went to the Imperial War Museum North, not far from the BBC and the Lowry Centre where, coincidentally, an edition of Britain’s Got Talent (I think) was being filmed. On the way back to the tram stop we had to negotiate star-struck crowds outside.

The museum itself was intriguing from an architectural point of view and laid out  in rather a chaotic way (thus reflecting war, no doubt). There was a good short film on rationing projected on the walls to all and sundry, some excellent poetry from poet in residence Mario Petrucci and a particularly good one on the Twin Towers by Simon Armitage. There was also a superb aerial sculpture by Gerry Judah called The Crusader.

We also climbed up a 100ft tower (160+ steps – the lift was broken, no doubt through enemy action) and partook of refreshment in the cafe.

Julia was worried (again) about underfoot conditions in Buxton and tried to book a taxi, to no avail. Dot and I walked on ahead, but Julia and Dave made it without too much trouble. It wasn’t really too bad, unlike the following morning, when two of our waitresses fell over on the way to work – happily without serious injury.

There had been no more snow, but there was plenty lying around, and we decided not to be too ambitious. We headed (by car) for Poole’s Cavern, possibly the only place in Buxton that we had been to but the Evetts hadn’t. Pausing only for coffee (after all it was practically an hour since we had had breakfast) we toured the cave in the company of an excellent guide called Robin, who was particularly good with the children in our small party. We had seen it before, but it was worth seeing again.

After lunch in the cafe we decided to drive up to Grin Low – a very short distance, but it involved (initially) a road too slippery to drive up and a car park too slippery to get into. However, Dave parked skilfully at the side of the entrance road, and we ventured out onto the snow, some of us more gingerly than others. In fact the most dangerous bit was getting out of the car, where the ice was treacherous. Having managed that, the quite deep snow on the hill was pretty straightforward and beautiful to boot.

We were within about ten minutes of Solomon’s Temple, a tower on the summit, when Dave and Julia decided it was too dangerous to go further; so they headed back. Dot and I continued, and found it was actually quite easy, give or take the odd dog. Climbing the tower was another matter: the steps were treacherous, and we had to be very, very careful.   Good view, though. We got back to the car about ten minutes after the others and drove back to the hotel.

The hotel was at its best: the food was excellent, and the rooms were just right. We also got into conversation with two waitresses we knew from previous years and got shown pictures of their children!

The journey home on Monday was even easier than the journey north, and the only problem we had was going astray when trying to find Donnington Services and adding about ten miles to our journey. This is much more complicated than it sounds. We stopped once for coffee at Leicester and got home before 3pm.

I was very tired but had to rouse myself to go to Dunston Hall in the evening for a meal with Audrey and Bent, who had been spending the weekend there. This was a birthday surprise for Bent, who seemed quite pleased, to give him credit. The meal was pretty good, but we both declined the sweet, rather heroically.

Yesterday morning Dot was quickly back into her working role, and I walked up to Archant for a pensioners’ coffee morning – the first time I’d been in the building for years. There about 20 present, most of whom I knew at least by sight. Robin had invited me, and his wife Shelagh was there too. Also Tony Foulkes and Alan Atherton, looking very ill. He was apparently told a couple of months ago he had a couple of tumours on his lungs: he looked painfully thin and got out of breath very quickly. However, he took the trouble to welcome me and have a chat. A really nice bloke. Also had a brief chat with Pete Kelley, who happened to be in the canteen.

When I emerged from the building, the sun was blazing down and it was really quite pleasant; so I took the long way home.

Titian, Ovid and the Shrew

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Dot and Tim on Stapleford HIll, just above the Hemlock Stone

Our Nottingham visit concluded (as it were) with a visit to the Theatre Royal to see an RSC version of The Taming of the Shrew which turned out to be both unnecessarily coarse and strangely compelling. This is a play that could never be written today, and despite my natural political incorrectness, I found myself recoiling at the treatment of women in it, much more than at the coarseness. Beautifully acted, though, and a good evening.

The next day found us on the road home, with the mist gradually lifting to reveal the promised blue sky. We stopped at Cambridge Services for a quick lunch at Costa Coffee, then again at Elveden to buy some food for the following day, when Audrey and Bent came for lunch. Astonishingly, it was four years since we’d seen them, and so there was much catching up to do. At table all afternoon, and when they left I travelled with them to Martineau Lane for guidance, then walked home. (I didn’t get any guidance.)

On Saturday Dot and I were at Framingham Earl High School for an informal evening concert in aid of a Malawi schools link, organised by Sue Eagle, who did some singing. A variety of differing acts of varying quality – some of them surprisingly good. On Sunday we spent far too much time watching Battleship Galactica, but Norwich had lost 1-0 to Newcastle, so we had to do something to distract ourselves. On the plus side, Jensen Button won the first F1 grand prix of the season.

Yesterday Dot did some DSSO stuff and ended up at North Walsham with some belated mother’s day flowers for the cemetery. I was in Norwich paying in some church money when it occurred to me that I could get a bus out to North Walsham for free, so I did – meeting Dot at Jessie’s for a cup of tea. Quite a quick journey in lovely bright weather.

Today we went up to the Castle Museum to see Diana in action – sorry, that should read Diana & Acteon (ho, ho), a painting by Titian which is being lent to the museum for a couple of weeks. Also an hour-long talk by an expert on Ovid’s influence on medieval painters: impressive. The picture itself was pretty good, though I have to say I think Diana’s head is too small. Perhaps she was famous for having a small head, though you would expect a goddess to sort that kind of thing out. Otherwise, a magnificent piece of work. No doubt Titian, were he alive, would be gratified to hear me say so.

9 May 2008

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Just back from a couple of restful days with Audrey at Bury St Edmunds. This morning we went for a walk around Thurston – about three miles – with Dot and Audrey clearly in charge. Beautiful warm weather and a welcome breeze, much as it’s been all week. We had lunch at a garden centre. Yesterday we went to Lavenham, then had an evening meal at the pub down the road from Audrey’s house – Moreton Hall. Excellent steak and chips, and the others were very complimentary about their curries.

Dot needed a rest because she’d had an Exclusion Panel on Tuesday, which is always a bit wearing. Also our son is in a lot of pain from what seems to be a kidney stone – it’s just recurred, and he went to the doctor’s today. Much more concerned about him than about me. I feel more or less OK, though I haven’t been sleeping too well, and have got dates for my MRI scan and my x-ray – both next week. Vicky’s birthday tomorrow, and David has baked her a cake despite his pain – well-known Lenton stubbornness coming to the fore. She insisted he went to the doctor today.

Meanwhile my sister-in-law’s brother has died suddenly of a heart attack, I have to go to Coventry next Friday for a case meeting about my brother Andrew, and my cousin Anne and her husband Jim are arriving on Sunday for a few days. I also need to arrange meals with several friends – one of whom has just been bereaved. You know what they say: time is what prevents everything happening at once – lately it doesn’t seem to be working.

While at Audrey’s I did manage to write three poems – one to go with Lucy’s proposed film for Paston, one to go with Annette’s picture, and the other a fairly random one based loosely on Lavenham and the nature of reality, whatever that is.