The day's forecast depends on which window you look out of

The skies are clear! Hallelujah!

Here at The Nook at Arthur's Pass, what you can expect from the day very much depends 

on which window you first look from. From the bed, a small window high in the wall offers an enticing view of snow capped peaks dazzling in the early morning light.  On the other hand, the view from the bathroom, while just as lovely, brings clouds slipping down the mountainside towards the stream that bubbles along behind the railway line. Until last night, that rail line was closed due to the cyclone, so overnight a number of freight trains crept through town, trying to make up lost time. Today the Alpine Express, the tourist train from Christchurch, recommences.  Not sure that I would want to bathe outside - although you are screened from the direct view of the road and rail below, I still think that I would be a nervous nellie!

Spent about 45 minutes searching for accommodation for tonight - finally settled on an Airbnb listing in Whataroa about 3 hours away. We set out right on 9 am.

Down to the National Parks Visitor Centre just down the road where we get the low down on the walks through the Arthur's Pass National Park.  One of the walk sections is closed after a metre of snow fell at the beginning of the week, coupled with rain and wind from the cyclone has caused a slip along the path.

Michael sets off to do the Devil's Punchbowl walk to the falls.  Gentle slope but a lot of stairs. Supposedly a 30 minute return walk.  He make it back just inside the hour.  He can't believe the number of Koreans and Chinese walking the path.  Of course, it is Chinese New Year, so they are here on holiday!

The next stage of the walk is the actual Arthur's Pass Walk and from the carpark where he leaves me, it is about 1.5 hours walk one way  to Jack's Hut a little higher up the mountain.  Thank goodness I didn't wait the 1.5 hours to drive up there.  Within 45 minutes of leaving the bottom, he is at the Hut car park!

The walk passes through a range of forest types with remnant antarctic beech forests that are heavily laden with mosses, to the start of the fir forests to dry scherophyll forests and even to the pampas grasses.  Once Michael arrives back to me he is filled with stories of the vistas and the snow capped peaks that are close even to touch.  The air is filled with a thousand new smells - many of them as old as the trees - literally. There is that wonderful earthy, truffley smell that is just so enticing!

From Jack's Hut we continue up and over the Pass, pausing to take a look at the Obelisk to Arthur Dobson - one of the two brothers who pioneered this country.  And then it is on to the Otira Viaduct which was completed in 1999 following the crash of a bus and the death of a child while travelling the switchbacks down the mountain.  Leading in to the bridge and to the south of it, the road is a very decent 16% slope - so it is down to second gear behind a cattle truck.

Once we are 'over the top', the vegetation changes quite dramatically - and quite quickly.  The more regular and heavier rainfall to the west of the mountains means that the forests are denser with more firs and eucalpyts and lots and lots of ferns including large, lush tree ferns and may that we have never seen.  It amazes me that whole walls of ferns grow up the cliff faces above vehicle height, and yet at car or truck height, where they would be brushed against all the time, there are the smallest of petite little varieties that hug the cliff face away from the danger of being scraped off!

We head for Hokitaki, pausing at an interesting homage to bridges in NZ and part of the first Arahura Bridge.  Of course Michael is thrilled that he can again see those snow capped peaks!

We finally arrive in Hokitaki quite famished about 3:10 pm.  We head straight for a bank as NZ eftpos points do not like our Australia debit card!  Then just a few shops away we spy the Stone Oven Bakery and Cafe.  Man o man were we in for a treat.  Their sign says that they specialise in Butter Chicken Pies.  And they were right. Those pies were some of the best that we have ever tasted and the coffee was strong and hot. 

We needed fuel and almost had a coronary when we saw how much the price of fuel is here - it might explain the number of cyclists that we are seeing - making fun of them as they climb crazy slopes!  And yes, the photo is not a mistake, it DOES say $2.07 per litre. And of course the hire car company insists on us using U95 which is $2.23 litre.

There is nothing worse than not having a water supply in the car, so we stock up with water, fruit and crackers at the local supermarket - again, can't believe the cost of living.

Hokitaki is right on the ocean so a quick trip to the beach and we see lots of driftwood piled high with local artists making the most of the ready resource.  Quirky and fun.  A stop at the local Greenstone store and a stone painter is also in order before we again turn the car south to head for Whataroa where we are staying in an Airbnb with Joan.  

She cautions us that there are not too many places for a meal here, and suggests that we eat before we get here.  But with those scrummy pies not long eaten, we take a chance on finding something open.  

Luckily the Whataroa Pub is still open and cooking.  We feast on freshly battered Gurnard with chips and salad.  SO good.  Finally at Joans with Roger the Poodle and Sumi the cat.  Just like being at home!

The weather matches our mood

Leaves swirl up and around us as we drive down the road from Ypres and as we pass under the trees, they continue to drop on to the windscreen. A full European autumn is an amazing experience. Again, it is raining, reflecting our emotions. My how our senses are heightened today. We have become used to the idea of going home, but gosh, how I wish we had more time here. Our last little time as we leave Belgium is spent letting Michael have a quick look around the New Poperinge Military Cemetery where there are a few Australian tombs scattered amongst the French ones.

Then, without the need for a real rush, we set Kate to direct us to the Eurotunnel departure point off the motorways and are so rewarded for doing so. There are cows grazing in the meadows and windmills on the hills - quite a few of them! We pass through the autumn rain and look out over valleys shining in rare spots of sunshine. The air is so crisp and clean and the colours are so vibrant.

We come in to France for the last time this trip and it is as beautiful as we remember it from the numerous trips we have made across the country over the last eleven months. The villages seem to be hugging the roads as though to say goodbye - yep, we are again passing those houses built right to the edge of the roads. Autumn here is a very busy place here and we pass lots of mounds of swedes (yellow turnips) and sweet potatoes recently dug and now set for drying. And the farmers are busy ploughing and fertilizing their fields. You know everywhere we have been there are a few constants - the smell of 'fresh' fertilizer, the heavy density of livestock and the farm implements pulled along the back roads by tractors!

All too soon (but not too soon) we arrive at Calais at the Eurotunnel terminal. As we pull up to the ticket tag machine it 'recognises' the registration number of the car and automatically prints our windscreen tag. We just have enough time (6 minutes) before they make the first boarding call to allow Michael to go and change our last Euros for UK pounds. Then, through border control and we join the first couple of cars waiting to be loaded on to the train. And then, just after 13:00 pm we are loaded on to the train and at 13:20 pm we leave the continent of Europe for the last time in 2009 for the fast half hour journey under the weight of the English Channel back to the UK.

And then without any fanfare (just a voiceless reminder on the intercom to remember to turn our clocks back an hour and to drive on the left) we are back in England - back on the 'right' or rather make that the correct side of the road! We are back in the land of small roads again - passing cars so closely on the local main roads that I wonder if we are not going to lose our side mirror.

We have decided to spend a couple of days in the south east of England having a bit of a look around the only part of England that we did not see when we were here earlier in the year. We have booked in to The Dog Inn in Wingham, near Canterbury. The building dates back to the early 13th century and our room on the first floor is supported by the most amazing big beam. The public areas downstairs are warm and the fireplaces are roaring away, keeping the cold outdoors where it belongs. The ceilings are lined with hops, now dried after hanging there for a year. This is no so much a pub, as a restaurant with rooms. We meet Dan behind the bar and Austin in the kitchen. Something that Austin is cooking smells fabulous and wse go to the kitchen door to find out what it is - ah, rabbit for a dish for tomorrow.

So we go up to take our luggage and unpack the barest of things as we have become accustomed to doing before heading back downstairs for dinner. The menu is surprisingly well developed with traditional foods presented in very modern combinations - something we are not expecting. After agonising on the offerings we choose -
Entrees:
Sherry's duck egg crostini with a poached egg, wilted spinach, curry oil (Michael)
Rillette of wild rabbit and smoked bacon, sweet plum tomato chutney, walnut bread toast (Maria)
Mains:
'The Carpet Bag' Roast fillet of beef stuffed with oysters, streaky bacon waist coat, grill garnish, bearnaise sauce and chis (Michael)
Breast of free range chicken, crispy parma ham, white pudding, cream tarragon dressing (Maria)
Desserts:
Sticky toffee pudding and vanilla seed cream (Michael)
Dark chocolate loaf, black cherries in kirsch (Maria)

Wow, what a meal. Congratulations to Austin who has managed to achieve the same level of finesse that we have experienced in meakls in France. We retire satisfyingly full to retire to our warm bed for the night.

Neolithic Man - the precision worker.

After the hustle and bustle of London yesterday and a week or more in bigger cities, it was lovely this morning to be heading back out into the English countryside. The day is again beautiful (perfect one day, b***** beautiful the next!) We leave West Drayton just after 10 am and so, have allowed the worst of the peak traffic to have passed us. The trip to Avebury is uneventful even if slowed by road works from time to time.

Just before Swindon we pass a convoy of army vehicles on low loaders - by the condition of the troop carrier and the tanks we suspect that they have returned from active service - maybe in Afghanistan or Iraq. Sadly as I type this the nightly news reports the deaths of another two British servicemen in Afghanistan today. The other big news of course is the missing Air France A330 Airbus over the Atlantic Ocean with all 230 people on board presumed lost.

We are headed for Avebury, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and a site that, like others we have seen in our trip through the United Kingdom and Ireland, dates back more than 5,000 years. There is something so imponderable that just draws you to them. The precision with which the stones have been placed raises more questions about than we will ever be able to answer - the why, how, what kind of questions. And as with some of these monuments, while you look keenly for them in the surrounding landscape, they allude you until, all at once, you round a corner and there they are - close enough to touch!

En route, we are driving down a narrow major road (the A4) with flowering rape seed all around us beaming brighter than the yellow sun when I glance further afield and there is - Oh. My. God. A white horse! You know, one of those that has been carved into the side of the chalky hills. A quick u-turn a couple of kilometres down the road and back we go to Hackpen Hill to take a closer look. Michael walks down the (12%) slope to where the carving is, to find that it is totally open and that if he had wanted to, he could have walked all over it! Of course, he doesn't but certainly gets close enough for some interesting photos. Turns out that they were dug out in 1837 to commemorate the coronation of Queen Victoria.
Back down the road then and on to Avebury . . .

The hamlet of Avebury has grown around and through the Stone Circle over time so that now, the Circle is an integral part of the village - or maybe, the village is an integral part of the Circle. And just on cue, around the corner - there are the first of the stones! What makes this circle stand out are a number of features - its size, the mound, the enclosed circles, the surrounding 'hills' and other mounds, the tombs and its accessibility. The National Trust manages the property and the best thing about this is that it is totally accessible to the people of the UK and of course anyone else who happens to find themselves here. In fact, on the brochure, one suggestion is "... for an unusual place to have lunch why not put down a rug in the stone circle..."!

We park in the car park and walk about 600 m around to the henge so that from ground level you look at the curve of the outer henge. This henge is built upon a huge raised flat area surrounded by a ditch that when first constructed was an incredible 9 metres deep. And all this was dug with antlers. The stones are HUGE - much larger than any others we have seen to date. Sure there was one stone on the Isle of Islay that was taller, but these are not only tall at up to 12 feet high, the are LARGE rocks - and consequently very very heavy. So again we are faced with all the engineering and logistics questions - how did these people who for so long we have accepted to be uneducated and brutish move and construct such a henge?

But we have only just begun our journey of discovery here! Turns out there were circles within circles and avenues of stones leading to them, a vast barrow tomb and a constructed symmetrical hill that so far has escaped all explanation. Oh, how arrogant man has been in quickly dismissing the skill and knowledge of his ancestor. These days are the ones when we just feel so small. It is a O. My. God. experience - all day long!

Once we have a look around the main henge, Michael takes off to explore the rest, while I adjourn to the Red Lion Pub for a pint of Cider and some lunch - Open King Prawn and Loch Fyne Scottish Smoked Salmon on toasted multi-grain bread. Gosh it was SO good! When Michael joins me in a little while he orders the Shredded aromatic Hoisin Duck and Cucumber Wrap. Mmmm mmmm.

After we lunch, we drive around to have a look at the Silbury Hill. Archaeologists have so far been unable to explain why this huge mound was constructed. This in no way diminishes the impact that it has on the surrounding landscape - or on us!

From here Michael walks over and 700 m up a hill to the West Kennet Barrow. While Michael is there I watched in amazement as the breeze ripples the grasses across the hills like waves on the land. And all this in a beautiful English summer landscape with little white cotton clouds being puffed along on the wind in the otherwise brilliant blue sky.

The walk up the incline to the barrow was quite a challenge, and my endeavour was rewarded with a spectacular view of a vista dominated by the Silbury Hill. However, nothing could quite prepare me what I was to find at the very top of the climb. Before me stood a long mound with a final sarsen stone at the entrance, standing at least three metres high. My excitement was overwhelming as I could walk into the barrow's interior. The barrow is maintained by the National Trust who have installed small skylights which shed light into the main aisle of the barrow.

Similar in construction to the passages and chambers of Newgrange in Ireland, one could be excused for assuming this was the work by the same builders. The main aisle doesn't run the full length of the barrow, however, the construction is just breathtaking. Stout sarsen stones supporting much larger lintels, along the length of the central aisle and similar construction of the five chambers. Four of the chambers open onto the main aisle, whilst the five and largest chamber is at the end of the aisle. There is evidence of visitations by devotees who have left flower bouquets in the main chamber. The small slabs of oolitic limestone were used for packing between the larger sarsen stones. Similar to the cairn mounds in Ireland, the interior construction at West Kennet is as appeared over 5000 years ago.

The mound was built up from chalk rubble dug from the two ditches on either side. This barrow was first documented by the diarist John Aubrey during the 16th century, and again in the 17th century by William Stukely. And our last stunner of today was the sight of a long avenue of standing stones lined up in an avenue facing each other and leading to or from the Stone Circle. West Kennet avenue connects the circle with The Sanctuary, another circle long disappeared and with only the ditch outline remaining. Yes, neolithic man rocks!

Tonight we are staying at the Castle and Ball Pub in Marlborough just a few kilometres away. This is another pub in the Greene King Old English Inns chain - the same as the Red Lion today. The room on the first floor is spacious and overlooks the main street - the widest main street in England! We have dinner in the restaurant at 8:15 pm so that we can be upstairs again in time to watch a special on Stonehenge! Fancy that - on the day that we have been to another amazing henge.

Dinner tonight was just as amazing as today's lunch - Fisherman's Catch (West Country whitebait fillets with fresh tartare sauce and seasonal fresh vegetables and bay peas) Michael and Farm-assured roast chicken breast (with a Provencal sauce, buttered new potatoes and green beans) Maria. We followed it with Chocolate Fondant with ice cream (Michael) and Sicilian Lemon Tart with fresh berries (Maria). And while Michael had an Appletiser to drink, I tried a Bombay Raspberry Crush - fresh crushed raspberries in Bombay Blue Sapphire Gin topped with lemonade - too bad raspberries are so expensive at home - this is absolutely delicious!!

London - various views

London beckons and even after another pretty full day there is still more to see - gee, I guess you could live here all your life and still not see it all. We still haven't managed to get to a show this trip even though we had hoped to go tonight. But no, none of them are showing on Sundays! Not ONE. Oh well, guess they all want at least one full day off too. Pity though.

We contemplated going in by public transport, but then again, it is a Sunday and they run far less frequently. It also means a walk of three quarters of a kilometre before we even begin (pooh pooh if you must, but the hip is variable at the moment!) Anyway, thanks to Kate and the London public transport map, I have found a parking station only one block from the ferry terminus at Tower Bridge. So, we bravely tackle the Sunday London traffic.

And do you know - it really wasn't all that bad - I mean there was gridlock around Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly for a while but it gave us the opportunity to get some great photos! And that magical little parking fairy is alive and well. We get to the Tower Place car park in Lower Tower Street and find it maybe 10% full and for a miserly £2.50 for the day!!! So there, all you Londoners - if you are prepared to brave the traffic, this has to be the cheapest park in town on a Sunday. Other days it is £2.50 per hour - still relatively cheap but even I wouldn't want to take on weekday traffic in the city, and of course there is a £8 congestion tax during the week as well.

We looked at the various cruise on offer on the Thames and decided on the City Cruises one from Tower Bridge to Westminster. Once we had our tickets in hand we join a long line of people waiting for the next boat. We are underway when the skipper announces the safety talk and adds that although their primary purpose is to get us from one point safely to the next, and that while they are not tour guides, that they will try to point out some of the buildings and other points of interest along the river. Now that commentary was great - all the major and many of the minor points of note are identified as well as all the bridges under which we pass (or see) in a wonderfully witty way. My favourite comment was about this building which was described thus: "we are not sure who owns or inhabits this building but we are sure that it must be the National Window cleaners training school!"

There is polite laughter at the explanation given for the common name for the newest bridge across the Thames - the Millenium Bridge, a suspension footbridge, was tagged “the blade of light”. Locally it is known as the Wibbly Wobbly Bridge as it was closed just three days after being opened in 2000 when it began to shake with the sheer volume of people walking across it! Hmmm, so it was designed not(?) as a footbridge?? Strengthening took another 2 years and as extra £5 million, but seems to have worked as there are no more reports of wobbles!

We reach Westminster Pier in the shadows - literally and figuratively, of the Houses of Parliament (correct name is the Palace of Westminster) with the clock tower that encloses that most famous of all bells - Big Ben). It doesn't matter that I had seen these before, and I doubt whether it would really matter if you saw it every day, this iconic London view is breath-taking. The gilded spires and vanes, the intricate and beautiful stonework and the leadlight windows that throw back splinters of reflections at you are things that I could easily look at day after day, year after year. We were lucky enough to be within view for two of Ben's tolling - only on the hour, at 3 pm and 5 pm. And as we are walking back to the boat just after 5 o'clock, just have a look at the beautiful sunny day! I suspect that back at home 5 pm is much much darker coming into winter. We see Westminster Abbey in the background but having seen many great cathedrals, have no desire to venture over.

One of Michael's keen interests lies in the two world wars and today we head down to the Cabinet War Rooms and the Churchill Museum at the Clive Steps on King Charles Street. As my interest is not so great (and I had seen the hidden bunker near St Andrews which is the other end of the story) I opted to wait in the shop and watch the video they were playing (and save $25).

The Cabinet War Rooms were an underground complex used by the British Government as an operational command centre during the Second World War. After the capitulation by Japan in 1945 the complex was abandoned and later re-opened to the general public in 1984. In 2003 the complex was again closed for expansion works, and re-opened in 2005 with the additional space converted into a museum documenting the life of Winston Churchill.

One would not require an interest in military history to appreciate the desperate years Britain had to face from an attempted invasion in 1940 to the constant threats at severing its life lines. The complex has been restored with its original features and equipment, including a wax figure of Churchill in the pose of talking to President Truman on the transatlantic link. Unlike like the element of paranoia experienced in the Cold War Bunker we visited in Scotland, the Cabinet War Rooms had a distinctive air of 'business as usual'. However, I developed a distinct impression, one would have had to enjoyed the confined space of a submarine to have lived in the complex.

As the various attractions are now closing, we returned on the ferry from Westminster to Tower Bridge and back to those commentaries. There is a nice little chunk of London now owned by the Kuwaiti Royal Family - an area now known as New London City in the area of Chambers Wharf - complete with the means to meet all their needs physical and spiritual and including a private hospital. What gets up the nose of the Brits is that these people are exempt from paying tax in the UK!

So, back on the other bank I went into Starbucks while Michael took a walk across Tower Bridge to the HMS Belfast. Unfortunately as it was after 5 pm, it was closed. And we could not get into the London Tower either because it too was closed. But he got some pretty darn good pics.

Time to move on and find something for dinner - we key in a restaurant address from Fliss' 10 year old London guide. It was no longer there, but we came across an area filled with pubs and eateries near the Great Ormond Children's Hospital and looking at the menus on display opted for The Swan pub that has existed on this site since 1757!!! Did not look at all tired and the young kids behind the bar made sure things kept moving. Our meal?:
Entree
Hot Cheese platter (boxed Camembert served with toaster baguette fingers and a balsamic onion confit.
Mains
We both had the Traditional Sunday Roast (Roast of the Day - beef - with roasted and new potatoes, seasonal vegetables - carrots, beans - Yorkshire Puddings and gravy)
We arrive back at our accommodation after 10 pm, tired but satisfied with our day and with the 592 photos taken today! And we are now planning on how we can cram as much as possible into our last 10-12 days in the UK.