Craggy Cliffs & Clovelly - Trip to England Part 2

When at last, the sun came out, the cragginess (or crankiness) and coughs seem to subside.  But no matter what the weather, Cornwall, (the English Riviera) and the neighbouring Devon are spectacular counties in England and after living in British Columbia, Canada that is saying something.

Newquay

As I hacked into the wind, on a walk from to the village of Kilkhampton (lovingly known as Kilk) I thought on how lucky I was, despite my Cornish Cough, It was a Tuesday morning and I strolled past fat ponies in a fluorescent green valley, controversial yet silent wind turbines, an ancient church complete with graveyard, and a ginger cat.

Ginger Cat with Turbine in distance

Kilkhampton Church

Kilk Churchyard

The Post Mistress was obviously glad of the plexi-glass divide when I croaked out my request of international stamps, then turned my back on her to choke and cough digging into my bag for the cash and packet of fisherman’s friends.

“Alright love?”

I nodded, mid-hack.

“Is this a 20 pence coin?”

“Yes, love, you sure you’re alright?”
I nodded again, unable to string two words together and I uncontrollably went into a coughing fit and hurried out the door.

“The poor dear, she’s from Canada you know, Elsie.”  I heard her say upon my exit.

The next day, we took a trip to the village of Clovelly, which actually is in Devon but very close by.
Clovelly is a historic fishing village, and there is an entrance fee, but well-worth the cost, the reason being that the care, maintenance and upkeep to keep it in the style of the mid 19th century, involves traditional materials and craftmanship.

The Red Door is where the Life Boat is kept, the seas can get very rough here

Time stands still in Clovelly, and there are no vehicles allowed.  The last time I was in Clovelly I was twelve years old and my sister and I rode sad and tired looking donkeys down the cobbled streets. (Somewhere there is a photo, must find, I'm sure we doned bell-bottoms.) Its incredible to me now, that we survived because of  the slope of this road, and the slippiness!  I’m not exaggerating, if you are not wearing serious walking shoes, don’t even try walking down the hill to the harbour. I was wearing comfy boots with a slight heel, but wished I'd worn flats.  The only thing that has changed in Clovelly is that the donkeys are no longer used for rides or the carting of goods and materials up and down the cobbles, and it’s no wonder.  Today they use sleighs, the donkeys, however are still a part of life at Clovelly.  Like this donkey here who is posing purposely in place where his not so distant ancestors used to tow an actual Real Cart. Looks like this donkey is here purely for aesthetic purposes, I’m not sure what the others do, but they look very pretty.

Still looking a wee bit sad

Here's an example of the steepness and it's like this all the way, so I would be terrified to ride donkeys now with their slippery hoofs, maybe they used to have rubber shoes, I'm not sure.

Luckily there were many places to stop for Tea and Yummies.

And the locals were friendly, this one joined us for a piece of homemade doughnut.

There are many beautiful homes, hotels, restaurants and craft shops.  The Harbour itself is beautiful and almost looks warm enough to take a dip.  But in May, I didn't think I would try it.

Alana & I definitely want to return to Clovelly

Ahh, A donkey blog! 
 http://www.clovellydonkeys.blogspot.ca/

A not so Lonely Summer's Eve in Stratford

There is nothing that compares to a summer evening walk to lift the spirits and assuage a lonely heartsick soul. sob..sob...(Violins Please!)

After a family gathering in the UK and living in cramped quarters, (I even had bruises)  I relished in the thought of finally being on my own!  But now after a few weeks, I find I’m missing my family so much that it has taken me for a loop, fancy that!...Especially missing, my Best Friend with Benefits ......(my husband). 

A few of my New friends had invited me out to the Stratford Blues Festival, and yet I had declined, I was behind with a few Website projects, and decided to stay home and work.  However, after dinner with my senior doggie companion, Jango (whose always asleep when not eating,) and after I’d knocked back a couple of wines, I instantly regretted it.  Silly me.  So off I went in the hollow hope of finding my friends.  My stroll began, through town towards the Avon River in my new hometown of Stratford at 9:30 p.m. on a Saturday night.  

Downie Street was alive with well-dressed tourists, peeking in windows and checking out venues and menus.  Pampered pub patrons spilled out of open air patios from Fosters, The Pour House and free flying fragrances filled the air from Downie’s gourmet burgers, mixed with Eastern spicy smells from Taj & Raja. 

Hosts of happy teens swarmed the streets, oblivious to anyone’s world but their own, freedom from the confines of classrooms and paranoid parents, who always think you'll gouge your eye out, not matter what you do? (I remember this)

The evening light so beautiful and the sky streaked with pinks, orangey blues, and an ornamental crescent moon hung on an invisible hook.  Down by the riverbank, new little cygnets were being tucked up in bed by their protective parents.  It was lovely!

So I took a few photographs and then decided I was content and thought, well I’ll just go home now.

But like a pleasant hazy dream….friends materialized…. ahh inhale...my new friends, Marie, Deb, Fred,… remember him? (Who the F is Fred?) http://www.suzannefitz.blogspot.ca/2012/03/who-f-is-infamous-fred-or-reunion-at.html         

Anyways, they had spotted me and I was quickly whisked off into the Allman Arena to the Stratford Blues Festival.  Fred insisted he could get me in for Free, so I’m not sure what happened but the next thing I knew I was inside dancing along side my cousin, Rhona, Fred and the lovely Maggie, completely absorbed in the fantastic Blues and Rock music.

Cousin with The Infamous Fred

Maggie

Dylan Wickens & The Grand Naturals

Fantastic Band - Plum Loco - John Till, BW Pawley, Wayne Brown

My only wish is that I had arrived earlier to see the many others who played before these two Sharp Rockin Bands.  And I hoped to captured a good shot of the Roller Skating Gals that were gliding about, but since I was well-refreshed with wine, these photos are only a colourful blur, except for this one. 

I’m also well pleased that the Roller gals didn’t have an extra pair of skates as my thoughts were truly turning dorky with the idea that I too, could be just as Twirly and Wonderfully graceful on Wheels as these ladies were, and for sure I would have ended up embarrassing myself.  (I sometimes forget that I’m not twenty anymore.)  There is hope however, (in the skating department, I mean) the black stockinged, (new word) skater, Lemon Zinger handed me a flyer  www.stratfordrollergirls.com explaining that Even I could be taught all about roller skating, and get an equally Awesome Name, such as Hers,  mmm....what could it be?  Cruizin Suze, comes to mind or Little Miss Muffet! 
Long long time ago, my sisters and I took great pleasure as young girls, skating in an underground parking lot to Bag Pipes!  But Ahh, that is another story.

Again, Stratford has proved that a room was filled with cheery enthusiastic Dancers, hypnotized by the strong talent of groups like, Dylan Wickens & The Grand Naturals, and this other band that I failed to get the name of, can be an uplifting experience and a refreshing jolt out of the doldrums.

Some of my Dancing Friends!

Yeager, just out of hospital

Marvelous Marie



Rosalie & Maggie

Peter Shane & Roller Gal

 

Craggy Cliffs and Accompanying Coughs – A visit to Cornwall in the UK

Another grey day, a bite in the air and of course, rain pending.  I shiver and the clouds collect in a big sky, the waves tumble towards the craggy cliffs with a roar followed by floating, smiling seabirds.

My daughter, Alana and I laugh and cough in unison into the wind, perched atop the Cliffside, clutching our scarves, wondering why we didn’t pack warmer clothing. 

Light headed with cold medicine, yelling to the men members of our family to stop balancing, fearlessly peering over the edge!  Why do they do that?

Each time I visit Cornwall in the U.K.  (my Mister’s homeland) the weather is absolutely god awful, and yet Cornwall is well-known for its sunny and mild climate, where Londoners flock for their mini  vacation time. 
 Despite the weather, this place is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful places on the planet.  Many Canadians I know, never manage a visit to Cornwall, being so far south, broken from the rest of Britain by the Tamar River and just too much out of the way for most.  There is a pride in the people here who say, they are NOT English, they are CORNISH.  And in many ways there are Very different from the rest of the country and Yes, I will swear that this is SO. 

It is a land of Twisty Turny charming, narrow cobble stoned streets lined with ancient churches and crooked cottages.  Friendly faces greeting with a HiYa or You Alright?  Rolling hills, plump ponies, thick coated curious sheep, tiny dramatic fishing villages, spectacular white sandy beaches and craggy coastlines and most surprisingly it's a SURFER'S Paradise! 

And the food is so Diverse in a Harry Potter Weird kind of way.  Fantastic Indian Curries served in every Pub, Cornish Pasties with Vegetarian options such as, Blue Cheese & Broccoli (this is what I chose - Yum) also, Cheese & Onion and the traditional Steak, Onion & Swede.  Pasties are often locally referred to as oggies. At the Bodmin Parkway Railway Station one of their vegetarion options is, Peanut Butter, grated cheese and Banana Panini! Crikey! (Bit afraid of this one) 

And sorry, I love Fish but couldn’t bring myself to try the STARRYGAZEY pie either.

Television chef Rick Stein has long operated a fish restaurant in Padstow for this reason, and in 2006 Jamie Oliver opened his second restaurant, Fifteen Cornwall, in Watergate Bay near Newquay. One other famous local fish dish is Stargazy pie, a fish-based pie in which the heads of the fish stick through the piecrust, as though "star-gazing".
There are many portable businesses such as this place – Toasties and Tatties! 

 My new favourite snack is Haggis flavoured Crisps!  (Chips).  YUM!

CORNISH ICE Cream!  In a Cornish Fishing Village!

The Prize however for Strange FOODIE ODDITiTY, goes to a tinned dinner offered in a small supermarket in Kilkhampton outside of Bude, called “The Full Monty”

Description on TIN – Baked Beans in Tomato sauce with Large Sausages, potato chunks, button mushrooms, mini bacon steaks and a mini chopped and shaped beef and cereal cutlet. 
WTF?  Does anyone actually eat this for Supper?

Click and Watch below to view this magical land.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=boNT46BMyWg&feature=player_embedded

THIS is ONLY Part 1 - Part 2 to follow  - I love this Land.

The Stratford Swans - What a Lovely Fuss!

When I read about the Stratford Swans Annual Parade from their winter quarters to the Avon River, I immediately thought, What Fun! So, of course I had to attend. It was a drizzly dull day and I didn’t think there would be many in attendance. I was wrong.

The street next to the arena was lined with people of all ages, hiding under umbrellas or cloaked in rain wear. Somehow I managed to squeeze to the front of the crowd, an advantage of being incredibly short, emphathetic individuals usually make way for me.

“What a fuss over some bloody birds!” A man behind me with a northern English accent exclaimed.
“Dad, please it’s just a bit of fun. I thought you liked bag pipes.”
“My God, such bother!”

The woman sighed and I glanced back sympathetically as my mother had made a similar complaint when I suggested she accompany me.

“I can’t stand the sound of bagpipes.” This was news to me. My 84 year old mother, who was born in England yet raised in Scotland, surrounded by the lilting sounds, never had mentioned this before, so I’m not sure when this opinion took hold of her.
For me, The Stratford Swans being Bag Piped into the River was the most comical, yet beautiful sight I’ve ever witnessed at a public event. I found myself laughing aloud, yet with a surprising emotional lump in my throat.
The mystical Pied Pipers look serious and stern but lets face it, you can’t smile when you're puffing your cheeks and blowing all your wind into a small tube, all efforts consumed by creating a rare supernatural sound.

Yes! There is much fuss made over some lovely birds, but the heart-warming sight of the well-behaved swans waddling in confusion behind a kilted procession of Highlanders, all anxious for their long awaited wade, I think should be right up there with the Running of The Bulls.  Of course, I know, I know, not nearly so dangerous a gathering, yet similiar that the Bull event was originally a process of moving the beasts from the farm to the market.  The Swans, moving to the river provided a stimulating sense of man moving nature's creatures alongside the manmade mystic music of ancient Scotland and I have classified it as motivational. All in all a sensation that reminded me, how great it is to be alive and by the surrounding chuckles and ahh sounds from the hundreds of participants giving rapt attention to the odd sight, it was obvious they felt something too!

Now that I’ve experienced and got all emotional about this parade, I will mark it down in permanent marker on all my future calendars. I would not miss this event in a million years! What more can be said in that the streets were lined, even with the odd grumpy complainer, dancing children donning swan hats, during a drizzly wet Sunday, and you can see by my photographs I could hardly get a decent shot because of the huge crowd.

After the Swans passed by I was then swept up by the stampeding mob desparate to get a glimpse of their first immersion into the river of 2012.

The swans, now road weary, the journey completed, just dreaming for a fancy-free paddle, there was a collective sigh, as their tired, feathered, awkward bodies plunged, now gracefully into the cool water accelarating fast away from the encroaching crowd.

 

What more can I say? It was magic!

Who the F is the Infamous Fred? – OR – A Reunion at the Dominion House, Stratford.

The success of a local Pub should not have to rely on just the revenue from wild weekends or occasional office parties, and Downie Street’s Dominion House in Stratford proves this.  The Pub has been in existence since 1865 so obviously this establishment must have something special going on and last Saturday, March the 3^rd we witnessed the why to its prosperity.

My family and I are recent residents to Stratford so when we received several invitations to a “Homecoming for Fred” at the Dominion House, how could we say No?

From the outside, the Dominion House is not much to look at, which is a shame because for months I avoided it even though it’s just down the street from where we now live.  Next to the Railway Station and across the road from a boarded up building entitled, Shenanigans, I imagined that Hell’s Angel people frequented there and though I personally have nothing against Hell’s Angels I don’t believe they’d want to hang out with a bookworm like me.

Thanks to our new friend, Yeager we were acquainted with the Dominion House from his Sunday afternoon Open Mics, unfortunately these sessions were not well attended and we wondered how the Dominion House managed to make ends meet.  During one of these Sunday Gigs, my husband and son (Fitz&Fitz) played for several hours with Yeager, his drummer, Bailey and a few other talented musicians and we had a wonderful afternoon.

“You must play at Fred’s Homecoming!”  Yeager said and before I could ask who Fred was, he was beckoned away by one of his many friends.

“Are you coming next Saturday?  It’s wonderful that Fred is arriving!”  Maggie, a lovely blond, asked. 

“Who is Fred?”  I enquired and she actually explained to me who Fred was but I couldn’t hear her properly, with the loud music and being partially deaf in one ear.

A few days later, I had an invitation email from my cousin, Rhona inviting me to a Grand Gala basically saying, “All Hail the Return of Fabulous FRED!”  But this time I was more than curious and wondered, Who the F was FRED?  I hit reply on her email, Yes, we were coming, but Who is Fred?  There was no reply.  And so, the Fabled Fred remained a mystery.

I imagined and queried all the Famous Freds of Canada, was he Fred Penner? Fred Perry?  Maybe Fred is an Actor in the Festival or a perhaps some hippie artist/poet touring the world!

Because this evening would also be my son, Tyler’s last weekend with us, I invited my sister and her husband from Toronto to join us on this venture to Dominion House.  During dinner my sister asked me, “Who is Fred anyway?”  Furiously Frustrated, I replied, “I have no idea!”  We joked, guzzling our wine, that we’d present Tyler to Fred, as his long lost son.

Upon entering the establishment by the backdoor, passing smiling smokers and a well-played pool table, the place was packed.  I half expected some Biker Boys to surround my geeky guitar carrying son and duff him up for not wearing leather or a Rude T-shirt. I whispered to my sister, “Don’t worry, we won’t stay long.”  However, how wrong I was.  Inside was a group of happy, dancing well-wishers who made room for us at a huge table. 

My cousin, Rhona came forward gave me a warm hug and so did her Husband, Ken and her friend, Marie.  I can honestly say I’ve never in my life felt swept up by a more harmonious and good-humoured crowd, all extending a hand of friendship to a bunch of new faces!  There must have been over a hundred people and usually I get anxious in large crowds but this miraculously never happened.  My sister, who’s usually shy in gatherings, suddenly succumbed to a dancing crowd in pleasant pandemonium, I could see her blond locks tossing in the distance.  All to the beat of a Tom Petty song, performed by Yeager and his band, Harmony Bridge.  After I recovered from my stunned stait, I gulped in amazement at my bashful in public places sister, usually she expected me to follow, but Bloody Hell!  She was just GONE! I then took deep breaths and joined in as well!

It was evident that the Pub was rocking with a great appreciation for good music and the easy comfort of long acquainted companions.  I was in pleasurable awe and we couldn’t stop smiling.  (Only because in Victoria, BC we had never experienced this.)  Victorians are so reserved and anytime my sister and I danced to music in that town, we were usually the only dancers, receiving glances of distain.  Here in the Dominion House, we were excited by the individuality on the dance floor and CRIKEY!  MEN INCLUDED!  There was even an agreeable crazy clog dancing dude!  IT was so much FuN!  These dancers had no inhibitions, they let loose, unleashed carefree abandon, like patrons in pubs I’d experienced only in Britain.

Well, guess what?  It was on the dance floor that we finally met the FAMous FRED!

I realized why Fred was so special and I was envious, he had more friends than anyone I had ever known.  He’d been round the world to Australia and back, his wrinkly smile lines and balding head did not belittle the fact that his heart was warm and his dance moves smooth, he was in his element surrounded by his life long pals. Yet, he embraced my family and we embraced him! 

The evening went on to get even more interesting.  We had a wonderful performance of Belly Dancing Gals led by the Gorgeous and Charismatic Karen, of Studio Oasis.  http://www.studiooasisstratford.ca/#

After their choreographed upbeat Egyptian shimmies, she invited anyone to join in.  Many obliged including my shy sister and Fred, also a woman with a RCMP shirt on.  I kept thinking to myself, why hadn’t I moved to Stratford sooner?

Yeager, graciously, invited my husband and son to play which was so great of him, since this was his gig.  Fitz&Fitz, (with accompanying home studio backtracks) said afterwards, how refreshing it was to play to a group of sincere admirers who responded with gusto and true positive vibrations.

Fred, over the microphone, gave a salute to them both, praising Tye’s guitar playing and urging him not to leave and go back to the U.K.  It was a tremendous truthful gesture and certainly made me feel teary.

Harmony Bridge continued on, with Fred on harmonica and the occasional song as well.  Everyone was suitably refreshed in the liquid department and my brother in-law dragged my reluctant sister out of there,  we finally stumbled home smiling in the soft falling snow, I was astounded that it was after 2 a.m.  What the F?  I never stay up that late!  

Thanks to The Dominion House and Staff with all my heart.