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Not a day of Christmas at all...
Dec. 28th, 2009 02:57 pm...but a birthday, and I hope it's a happy one, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
helenraven!
helenraven!Dec. 28th, 2009
More white Christmas days
Dec. 28th, 2009 04:39 pmOn the Sunday of our weekend in London, we visited durham_rambler's family in Essex; all the expected pleasant family things, plus a surprise bomus walk in the snowy afternoon, at Warley Place - a local nature reserve which is not exactly 'natural', but one of the many sites where a country house has fallen into ruin and been abandoned. In the case of Warley Place, the last resident owner neglected the house in favour of the garden, planting trees and constructing an 'Alpine ravine' which survive alongside the walled garden and the ground plan of the house (the conservatory at one end, the ceramic tiled stairs leading down to - or was it from? - the kitchen at the other).
Although the literature (and the information boards) tells you that the best time to visit is in the spring, it was a magical place in the snow, particularly in the golden evening light (between three and four o' clock; this was the day before the solstice) and I took lots of photos. It's also, in Essex terms, quite high up, and we could see CAnary Wharf floating in the apricot glow of the sunset.
The next day,durham_rambler and I were at Canary Wharf itself, on our way to the National Maritime Museum, whose exhibition about the North West Passage I had read about in the summer and resolved to visit at the next opportunity. It's a long time since I've been to Greenwich, and it was tempting to wander off and explore the park and the Observatory and the river - but the exhibition was in its last days, while Greenwich itself endures. But first, a distraction: we had barely arrived at the museum (I was in the ladies', in fact) when I heard an announcement that there was about to be a short talk about Jack Cornwell somewhere upstairs, so we dashed off to hear that. Then we tried out both of the museum's cafés (recommended: soup downstairs, coffee and viennoiseries upstairs) - and then we were ready for the exhibition.
( Too much information about the Northwest Passage exhibition )
By the time we had had enough of the museum, the snow was falling again, gently, wetly, out of a dark sky among the floodlit buildings of old Greenwhich and the silver balls strung across the street for Christmas. We headed for the pub, and by the time it had stopped, it was time to go and meethelenraven for dinner.
At this point, please imagine a key change. Hereafter it's all spending time with friends, sociable chat and sociable meals (hey, it's Chritmas: as Thea Gilmore says, "Faith, hope and gluttony") and snow gradually thawing, with the occasional cold night turning all the meltwater into a sheet of ice, just to stop us growing complacent. Happy to do, but not interesting to read about.
durham_rambler's family in Essex; all the expected pleasant family things, plus a surprise bomus walk in the snowy afternoon, at Warley Place - a local nature reserve which is not exactly 'natural', but one of the many sites where a country house has fallen into ruin and been abandoned. In the case of Warley Place, the last resident owner neglected the house in favour of the garden, planting trees and constructing an 'Alpine ravine' which survive alongside the walled garden and the ground plan of the house (the conservatory at one end, the ceramic tiled stairs leading down to - or was it from? - the kitchen at the other). Although the literature (and the information boards) tells you that the best time to visit is in the spring, it was a magical place in the snow, particularly in the golden evening light (between three and four o' clock; this was the day before the solstice) and I took lots of photos. It's also, in Essex terms, quite high up, and we could see CAnary Wharf floating in the apricot glow of the sunset.The next day,
durham_rambler and I were at Canary Wharf itself, on our way to the National Maritime Museum, whose exhibition about the North West Passage I had read about in the summer and resolved to visit at the next opportunity. It's a long time since I've been to Greenwich, and it was tempting to wander off and explore the park and the Observatory and the river - but the exhibition was in its last days, while Greenwich itself endures. But first, a distraction: we had barely arrived at the museum (I was in the ladies', in fact) when I heard an announcement that there was about to be a short talk about Jack Cornwell somewhere upstairs, so we dashed off to hear that. Then we tried out both of the museum's cafés (recommended: soup downstairs, coffee and viennoiseries upstairs) - and then we were ready for the exhibition.( Too much information about the Northwest Passage exhibition )
By the time we had had enough of the museum, the snow was falling again, gently, wetly, out of a dark sky among the floodlit buildings of old Greenwhich and the silver balls strung across the street for Christmas. We headed for the pub, and by the time it had stopped, it was time to go and meet
helenraven for dinner.At this point, please imagine a key change. Hereafter it's all spending time with friends, sociable chat and sociable meals (hey, it's Chritmas: as Thea Gilmore says, "Faith, hope and gluttony") and snow gradually thawing, with the occasional cold night turning all the meltwater into a sheet of ice, just to stop us growing complacent. Happy to do, but not interesting to read about.