Vikings

Okay, let’s go house hunting ... Don’t worry! I’m not moving house again. This time  it refers to another of my visits during my recent stay in Deal.

After exploring Walmer castle, Mats, Teresa and I drove some 3 km further down the road to Kingsdown, a tiny village located at the foot of the ‘White Cliffs of Dover’. Teresa and her mother and brother used to live there from 1972 (my very first stay with them at the age of 15) till 1976, after which they moved to Deal, 5 km further up the coast towards the east.

The 'White Cliffs of Dover' seen from the beach in Kingdown.

I have very fond memories of all my stays with them, but the years in Kingsdown were definitely the finest. I therefore longed to see the two houses again where I spent these memorable vacations.

The first house, which is located on Upper Street, was – and still is – called ‘Vikings’. Compared to the second house, it is just a small cottage, with a very peculiar entrance, the front door being situated at the end of a long open corridor. During my stay I occupied a bedroom on the first floor with a view of the back garden. The room had two brass beds. Jolyon, Teresa’s brother had his room in the basement. Teresa’s room was on the top floor. On the ground floor there were two rooms: the front room, which was the den with a television set and comfortable armchairs. The back room, over my bedroom, was the formal dining room. It was rarely used though and most meals were served in the kitchen or on a tray in front of the television. This was completely new to me, and I enjoyed it immensely as I was discovering all these new television shows on ITV, a channel we (still) can’t capture in Belgium.

Vikings in 2011
The house looks exactly the same as it did in 1972.

When I arrived at Vikings that first year, there was another language student staying with the family. It was a German girl, called Christina. Our stays overlapped one night, and she had to give up her bedroom and spend her last night at the house on a camping bed in Teresa’s room, while I was moved into the official guest room. I didn’t have much contact with Christina, as she was already well acquainted with the family and their daily life, while I rather felt like the ‘ugly duckling’, strange, ill at ease and unwanted. Mind you, that was just the feeling I had, because Rowena did everything in her power to make me feel at home.

In spite of her relentless efforts, I felt very lonely for the first four days and I remember crying myself to sleep every night. But somehow, I managed to pull through. Jolyon, who was 16 at the time, showed me his extensive record collection and taught me how to play cribbage and canasta. Teresa shared her love for Cat Stevens’ music with me, and I went home with a copy of his ‘Tea for the Tillerman’ album. Rowena cooked some special meals for me (although I must admit I still don’t eat grilled pigs liver,). She also put a lot of effort in keeping me occupied and correcting my English, which was very poor at the time.

What's this?

I know I promised that I would take you house hunting. But that'll have to wait for a while. In the meanwhile, here's a little quiz to keep you busy. Any idea what this is? A hint ... I shot this photo at Walmer castle.

Good luck!

Walmer castle – the greenhouses, moat and gift shop

The greenhouses of Walmer castle were our next destination. They mainly contained exotic plants. This dark purple, almost black specimen caught my eye. I have no idea what it is. The flowers – or are they the plant’s actual leaves? – had a diameter of approximately 10 to 15 cm. The total height of the plant was little short of a meter. Can anybody tell me what it’s called and where it originally comes from?

There were some more common species too.

Before heading for the exit, which led through the mandatory gift shop, we took a walk down and around the moat. There were some amazing plants in this from the sea wind protected enclosure. Like this tall magnolia tree. The few remaining flowers were gigantic compared to the ones we have in Belgium.

This tree was really huge ...

Mats and Teresa ended our visit with a tour of the basement and the donjon. I didn’t accompany them as the sciatic nerve in my left leg was beginning to play up again, and I didn’t want to put extra strain on it by walking more steep steps.

One of the towers seen from the moat.
It looks a bit like a giant skull, doesn't it?

While my friends explored the dark donjon, I wandered around the gift shop where I bought four tiny jars of different fruit preserves for my mother. I also bought a nice and trendy carrier bag, listing the main monuments of the ‘English Heritage’ association. I now use it to carry my lunch to work. It’s very handy and attracts many curious glances from colleagues who try to read what’s written on it. It makes an excellent gimmick to start a conversation in the elevator or the underground car park.

Just for the record, apart from some bleak walls, there wasn’t much to see in the donjon; no skeletons of forgotten prisoners, no balls and chains and no torture devises … I couldn’t help but notice that Mats looked slightly disappointed…

This was my last post on Walmer castle (do I hear a sigh of relief?). The next time I’m taking you house hunting …

Walmer castle – the woods and the vegetable garden

When you leave Walmer castle’s ornamental garden, you can either walk straight into the woods, which we did for a short while, or head for the greenhouses and the vegetable garden.

In the woods we saw this very peculiar ivy tree.

'Albino' ivy?

At first sight it looked quite common, but then I noticed these white spots among the branches. I thought it was just some dead leaves, but when I took a closer look, I saw that they were in fact ‘albino’ leaves. Instead of having a mainly dark green ‘body’ and just a tiny white rim, the ‘body’ was creamy-white with a single, narrow dark green line in the middle. Very pretty! I wonder whether it would be possible to have a complete ‘albino’ ivy tree.

The castle, a section of the vegetable garden
and an impressive hedge shielding the garden from the cold wind.

In the vegetable garden we had fun challenging each other to identify the different plants. In some cases we were at a complete loss, but most of the time we managed, among the three of us, to recognize and name the different species.

 There were fruit trees too. Very appetizing looking apples.

Artichokes, beans, cabbages ...

Are you hungry yet?

Walmer castle – the ornamental garden

When you see Walmer castle from the main road on the seafront, it looks as if it is surrounded by large, rather neglected looking woodlands. Of course there is the neatly mowed lawn in front of the castle, but there are no well tended and colourful flower beds to brighten up the place.

However, when you cross the entrance bridge over the now empty moat, you can not only catch a glimpse of the sea, but you also realize that there is more to this castle than just stone walls and some trees.

The now empty moat
and - in the distance - a glimpse of the sea.

After visiting the rooms and gun terrace of the castle, we stepped out into the gardens. The main attraction is definitely the elegant garden commissioned by Queen Elisabeth the Queen Mother – lovingly called the Queen Mum - who in 2002 died at the incredible age of 102. It’s very beautiful and quiet and it isn’t very hard to imagine the grand lady herself strolling over the lawn, feeding the gold fish in the pond, admiring the water lilies and the many roses and other plants in the wild-looking, though carefully tended flower beds that line this rectangular garden.

Just enjoy!

Notice the gold fish that is trying to attract my attention! 

Colourfull flower beds.

Fragrant lilies.

Catching up

As Mats and I had spent a large part of the previous evening together over supper, we had already caught up on what had happened since our last meeting in 2007. However, Teresa and Mats had a lot to talk about, not having seen each other since 1974. While I discovered some more of Walmer castle's secrets, they sat on the castle's ramparts, happily chatting away. Here they are on the terrace overlooking the English Channel. I guess this is were Queen Victoria stood when she visited the castle in the second half of the 19th century.

And here are some more shots of the castle's interior and exterior.

A cosy alcove. Amazing brick work, don't you think so?

The heart of the castle.

An stately fireplace.

Even the gratings are elegant.
Lovely colour pattern!

Queen Victoria's bed.

The Lord Warden's private balcony, maybe?

A beautifully carved and polished banister end.

In my next post I will be taking you on a tour of the castle's gardens. That is, unless you are tired of seeing so many photos. Someone once told me that there is nothing as boring as looking at other people's holiday pictures. So please tell me when to stop ...

Welly weather

Yesterday, on our ‘Fête Nationale’ we got the traditional ‘drache nationale’. If you don’t know what a ‘drache’ is, just check out the post I wrote last year about the typical Belgian phenomenon.

I stayed in for the best part of day, just hanging around, cooking myself a nice lunch and watching television. This morning this weather is mostly the same. Overcast, with menacing rain clouds, but not a drop so far. But more rain is expected in the afternoon. So if you want to come on today’s walk with me, you’d better put on your ‘wellies’, which is short for Wellington boots, aka rubber boots.

During my recent stay in Deal I got to see the original Wellington boots, those that used to belong to the great man himself, the Duke of Wellington. This famous noble man and military genius has an unbreakable link with Belgium, as he led the allied armies, that gave Napoleon a run for his money during the battle of Waterloo on June18th, 1815 into victory.

The boots are on display in Walmer castle, at a stone’s throw from Deal. Mats, Teresa and I visited the castle on the second day of my recent stay. After my walk along the pier and the seafront, I met up with them at the B and B and we set out in Mats’ car to Walmer and Kingsdown.

The castle, which is the official residence of the Lord Warden of the Cinq Ports, is open to the public all year around, with the exception of a few days in August when the Lord Warden is in residence. The castle is beautifully furnished and there are potted plants and flower arrangements everywhere. Although Mats and I had walked by it on numerous occasions in the seventies, when I accompanied him on his daily walk from Kingsdown into Walmer, where he used to play tennis every morning, neither of us had ever actually visited the castle. Teresa admitted that it was at least thirty years or more ago since she had set foot inside the building. So this was the perfect destination for a ‘cultural’ visit.

The income fee was rather steep, £ 7 per person, but turned out to be well worth every penny. We were given a set of headphones each and set out on our audio-guided visit. I admit that we skipped some ‘stations’, but nevertheless managed to see the main ‘attractions’.

The entrance to Walmer Castle.

Mats and Teresa walking towards the entrance.

I guess the plaque beneath the window is the Lord Warden's crest,
but it was impossible to read what it said.

The castle's main corridor.
Don't you just love that colour?!

Lord Wellington's chair and the bed in which he died.

Wellington's authentic boots ...
after which our current rubber boots are named.
If you look closely,
you can see yours truly's shoes reflected in the glass.

There is much more, of course, like Queen Victoria’s bed, the gun terrace and the magnificent gardens. But I’ll keep those for tomorrow’s post.

Come and walk with me

Today, July 21st, is our 'Fête Nationale'. The Belgian equivalent of the American 4th of July and the French '14 Juillet'. So we are having the day off. Tomorrow we 'faisons le pont' (make the bridge) which means that we are having a four day long weekend.

On this special day I'm taking you for a walk along the seafront and the pier in Deal ... Just come this way ...

Fishing boats on the beach in Deal.

Lobster pots.

The seaview from these stately homes must be breathtaking.

Deal pier.

View from Deal pier looking towards the East and Ramsgate.

A sunny but windy morning.

 A man and his seagulls.

Thank you for coming on this walk with me ... Want to see more?

Hi Rod!

What happened before.

I walked all the length of the pier, shooting photos of the seagulls, the waves and the clouds. Then I turned back, as it was almost time for my rendezvous with my friends Mats and Teresa.

In the distance I saw two men walking towards me. One was a short, pot-bellied, almost bald guy. The other one was tall and slim. He had bleached blond hair, was clad in a white T-shirt and jeans. They both carried walking sticks and were obviously having a good time.

When they came closer, I couldn't believe my eyes. The tall, blond man was Rod Stewart! Well, at least from that distance, I would have sworn it was him. I discretely tried to make a photo of them, but the pot-bellied man saw me pointing my camera at them. He tapped his companion on the shoulder and I heard him say: "Hey, the lady is taking our photo." Rod Stewart turned towards me and ... then I saw that it wasn't him, but just one of the locals who really was doing his best to look like the rock star. I'm sure he was well aware of the striking resemblance and had deliberately added to it by dying his hair and cutting it in the same porcupine style.

The seafront promenade in Deal, seen from the pier,
with on the right, the local Rod Stewart.

Cheerfully they posed for me, before continuing their walk towards the pier-head. When I looked at the photo later I realized that they had been too far to capture the resemblance. But I promise you, the guy really was the spitting image of Rod Stewart. I wonder whether he had the same raw voice!

A dogfish and Rod Stewart

What happened before.

My walk along the seafront on that first day of my stay in Deal was very invigorating. The sun was shining, the sea wind was crisp and refreshing and the air had that slightly iodine touch to it. I first walked towards Deal castle. This Tudor fortress was commissioned by Henry VIII and has an attractive rose floor plan. Visiting Deal castle had been one of activities on my to-do-list, until Teresa told me that it was just bare walls, and that there wasn’t really that much to see. So I decided that I would just take some photos of the outer fortifications.

Deal Castle seen from the promenade.

Before walking in the opposite direction, towards the pier, I looked out over the sea. It was a clear day and I think I could spot the coast of France, which is only 35 or so kilometres away.

But back to the pier. It was low tide and the concrete structure sat high above the water. From a distance I could already see that there were anglers fishing from both sides of it. The actual pier is the third Deal has known. The first one was built in 1838 and was completely made of wood. It was largely destroyed by a heavy storm in 1857. In 1864 a new iron pier was built. This structure was seriously damaged in 1940, when a Dutch ship, Nora, bumped into it. In 1957 the current concrete-clad steel pier was inaugurated by the Duke of Edinburgh. Its total length is 311 metres, which makes it longer than the RMS Titanic. In 2008 the pier got a new pier-head with a restaurant.

As I mentioned before, I’ve known this pier since 1972. I remember that at the time it was in rather bad repair. It looked really scruffy and not very inviting. That’s probably one of the reasons why I never went on it. Too afraid that it might crumble beneath my feet!

This time the pier looked very inviting indeed. I still had more than half an hour to go before my rendezvous with Teresa and Mats, and therefore leisurely set out on my walk. Although it was rather windy, the sun was warm and I really enjoyed my stroll.

Halfway I reach the anglers that were casting their lines into the water. I stood and watched them for a while, but they didn’t seem to be very successful. Until, one of the men suddenly pulled up his line with a fish dangling from it. The fish jiggled and wriggled while the man removed the hook. It was a very attractive fish, not very big, but with a beautiful elongated spotted body. To an untrained eye this looked like a baby shark. Experts, however, will immediately identify it as a dog fish. I asked the man whether if I could take a photo of him holding the fish. He didn’t object and proudly held out his catch to me.

And no, the angler wasn’t Rod Stewart … But where does this famous singer fit in to this story, then?!

'Birds' with a mission

What happened before.

The next morning I woke up to the cries of the seagulls. Although it wasn’t a very nice sound, I liked it as it immediately gave me this ‘being-on-holiday’ feeling. I lay in bed for a while, listening to it. It was only seven o’clock and there was ample time before breakfast, which was scheduled at quarter to nine.

I was wide awake though and for a second considered going out for a walk. When I opened one of the blinds, however, I saw that the sky was overcast and that it was raining. There was also a stiff wind blowing from the west, chasing the rain clouds in an easterly direction. I plugged in ‘Junior’, my net book, and listened to the news on the Belgian radio channel over the internet. I also checked the weather forecast on MSN. What I read was rather promising: fair, with occasional clouds and temperatures around 21°C.

By eight I got out of bed, took a shower and went down to have breakfast. There was no one about, but on the sideboard was a vast and varied assortment of food: different types of cereals, fresh strawberries, blackberries and raspberries, two sorts of yoghurt (plain and strawberry flavour), sliced grapefruit, different kinds of jam, orange juice, cranberry juice and milk.

A gourmet breakfast buffet.

Neil appeared from the downstairs flat and asked what I wanted for breakfast. There was a choice between full English, scrambled eggs on toast with or without smoked salmon or boiled eggs. I ordered the scrambled eggs. While I was waiting for Mats to come downstairs, I looked out of the window, and was happy to notice that there were already some patches of blue showing between the clouds. It had also stopped raining. Mats arrived and ordered a full English breakfast. The food was served presently and we both enjoyed it immensely. Besides being a perfect host, Neil was also an excellent cook.

Mats' full English breakfast.
He didn't eat the baked beans... I wonder why?

Over breakfast, Mats and I discussed our plans for the day. He had some business calls to make and emails to write. So I suggested I’d call Teresa to come and join us around eleven to spend the day with us. That was fine with everybody and left me enough time to do some of the things I had come for, like walking down Deal pier. In all the years I had come to Deal in I had never been on the pier. So this was my first mission of the day!

During my walk along the seafront I shot several photos. There were a lot of seagulls hovering over the water, riding the waves or sitting on the beach, cleaning their feathers. The latter made excellent subjects for my photos, and I shot several of them (photos I mean, not seagulls). When I looked at the photos later, I took an immediate liking to this one.

A seagull with a mission.

Doesn’t it look as if this seagull was on a mission too? It looks so determined and focused. I wonder what it had on its mind. Like to take a guess?

Number One - and top of the bill

What happened before.

When I had made my reservation at Number One in May, I had deliberately asked for the room on the ground floor, which had an en-suite bathroom with a shower. Ever since my sciatic nerve problem last February, I try to avoid stairs whenever I can, because I’m afraid that walking too many stairs may trigger a new attack.

However, upon my arrival Neil, being the perfect host, suggested that I’d take a look at the two rooms on the first floor. Apparently the room I had originally booked was the smallest of the house, and therefore not very suitable for a longer stay. Being the first guest to arrive, I was thus given a choice of rooms. After visiting rooms number 1, 2 and 3 I resolutely chose room 2, which was situated on the first floor. It had a lovely bay window, a nice Victorian mantelpiece and a snug en-suite bathroom with a very practical and large shower.

'Junior' - my netbook - on the desk
in my bedroom at the Number One B and B.

The room was spic and span and beautifully furnished, with a large double bed, an elegant chest of drawers, a stylish desk, a large flat-screen TV and a mini-bar. There were fluffy towels embroidered with the name of the B&B and a pristine white bath gown. A small shelf in the shower contained an attractive selection of little flasks of shower gel, shampoo and body lotion. On the pillow lay a piece of chocolate in a colourful wrapping. This place was the perfect combination of the conveniences of a four star hotel and the intimacy of a cosy bed & breakfast. I immediately felt I home, and assured Neil that I was definitely going to like it here.

Trendy decor - notice the chocolate on the pillow!

While I was upstairs checking out the rooms, my friend Mats arrived. I hadn’t seen him since he came to Belgium in 2007 and this ‘reunion’ was therefore great fun. While he was carrying up his luggage to him room, Teresa returned from parking the car. Again there was a lot of kissing and hugging when she saw Mats, because their last meeting goes all the way back to 1974, when Mats stayed at Teresa’s mother’s house in Kingsdown for the second and last time.

A snug en-suite with a comfortable shower.

Neil was quite impressed when he heard our story; about Teresa’s mother hosting foreign language students in the 1970-ies, and how Mats and I met while staying there.

By then it was half past eight and it was still raining. We decided to go out for a quick bite to eat, before turning in because it had been a long and very emotional day for all of us.