Stoned

Stonehenge!

Where the demons dwell.  And the banshees live.  And they do live well.*

Yes, last week I went to Stonehenge.  I know the Solstice celebrations aren't till the 21st but I like to be early.  Beat the traffic and all that.

Inevitably, I took a bazillion photos. Well, of course. It's a spectacular place, even more so on a glorious early morning in June.  We were fortunate to have been invited to go along as part of a small group by the English Heritage team with whom (posh grammar eh?) Mr WithaY has been working recently. So at 0730, bright and breezy, we rocked up in the car park and met the rest of the group.

It immediately became apparent that we had dressed over-optimistically for the trip, as a stiff wind was blowing, but being British we gritted our teeth and ignored it.  Take that, weather.

There are some semi-tame rooks living in the monument, some of which were interested enough to come and watch us.

This one is called Gerontius and is trained to peck out your eyes if you fail to return your audio tour.

We were given strict instruction not to touch the stones because the acids in our skin would damage the lichen, apparently.  Perhaps they had a bad experience with a visiting group of Geiger aliens.  We were also warned not to climb on the stones, deface them, lick them or try to push them over, or they'd set the rooks on us.

I've always thought Stonehenge was a tad unimpressive, to be honest. I know it's a world heritage site and all that jazz, but when viewed at 50mph from the A303, it seems underwhelming.  Even when I've paid to get in, and walked around the outside with the audio tour (which I was careful to return, for fear of Gerontius) it's felt a bit, well, commercial and dull.  Plus you're always surrounded by massive crowds of tourists, probably all feeling as disappointed as yourself.

Last week, though, it was very different.  The stones are HUGE.  Really, really big.  And when you stand next to them, you appreciate how incredibly hard it must have been to move them from where they were found, organise them into the correct alignment, and then stand them up.  And then, incredibly, somehow hoist the equally-massive lintels onto the tops of them.

The guide, bless him, tried to explain all about Stonehenge, but was hampered by the fact that he did not have answers to the burning questions we all wanted to ask, viz:

1)  What's it for?

2)  How was it built?

He gamely explained various theories, backed up by the archaeological evidence, but basically had to reply to many of our questions with a smiling "We're not sure..."

Here's one of the rooks, keeping a wary eye on the group:

We were there a few hours too late for sunrise, but it was still lovely to see the long shadows crossing the centre of the circle.

That's a view of the Heelstone between the central pillars, thankfully without any traffic passing by on the road behind it to ruin the atmosphere.

This is one of my favourite pictures which gives a sense of the circular-ness** of the monument from the inside.

And this is the view off to the north west, across Salisbury Plain.  Usually there would be a thick crowd of people in an unbroken line around the path, so it's gorgeous to just see the stones and the big sky.

When the new visitors centre is opened, it will be a very different experience, and I am looking forward to seeing the changes.

Mr WithaY and I amused ourselves as we walked around by quietly exchanging comments in the "Neolithic Accent" as seen on Armstrong and Miller's TV show.

One careers option I was made aware of that day, and never offered at school, is "Astro-archaeologist."  I demand to know why not.  Is it because it sounds like a load of made-up bollocks?  Or just that the people who write horoscopes AND have a keen interest in digging holes want to keep it secret from the rest of us?

The truth will out.

In other news, the catering business is making slow but steady growth, and I am selling more of my home-made chutneys to people.  Mr WithaY has been carving some beautiful wooden bowls recently, and I am trying to persuade him to sell them online.

We've been making the most of the last week of fabulous weather to get stuff done outside and have  replaced the roof of the shed, planted more fruit bushes, cleared a huge (and I mean HUGE) amount of assorted shite out of the garden, and planted a lot of mixed wildflower seeds.  I have high hopes that in a few weeks we will have more flowers.

This of course, is a celestial cue for torrential rain until September.



*I still adore Spinal Tap.

**Yes, it's a word.  Shut up.

Travellers' tales

I'm still afflicted with Lurgy.

Bloody London germs, with their sneaky infectious ways. In general, I am careful about avoiding people who are obviously sickly...you know, covered in boils and scabs and oozing pustules.  Also about washing my hands before I eat anything, and not licking the handrails on the Underground escalators, but you can't be too careful, it seems.

It seems to be passing off a bit, but I had a high temperature for a couple of days (and nights) and a headache which has only just eased off. I feel wiped out, tired, weepy, listless and grumpy. I must be a joy to be around.

As I am feeling less pathetic than I have been since the weekend, here are some pictures of London. Mostly taken from high up in the London Eye, which was most impressive. It's a fantastic bit of engineering.

There were no creepy blokes clinging to the outside asking us if we wanted to go faster, which was disappointing.  I'd have thought they'd have at least spun the car around a few times to make us scream. 

I was intrigued by this sign:

I like to wonder how many times they had visitors plummeting past the security guards before they thought "We really must put a sign on those doors."

It is especially pleasing that DO NOT is underlined for added emphasis.  Is that in case you aren't sure why they are telling you not to lean on the doors as you slowly rise hundreds of feet above the river?  And, I note,  the sign is only in English.  Is that because other nationalities are less likely to lean on the door? Or do the London Eye health and safety team simply not care about non-English speakers? 

We must know.

Anyhoo, we were bloody high up.  Look:

That's Waterloo station, from a million feet up.

Houses of Parliament.  If you look carefully you can see the police raiding MPs' offices for evidence to pass to the CPS.

We also went to the Aquarium, which I enjoyed far more than I expected to.  I even managed to do the Shark Walk.  No, not a dance where you wriggle on the floor and bite the furniture.  It was a suspended platform with a glass floor that you walk across, above this:

It's a bit blurry because NO FLASH.  But that's a shark in there.  Yep, a shark.  There were several others too.  And I walked over their heads.  Ha!

I was very taken with the Ray Pool, too.  Look:

They* were playing tranquil music, and we stood and watched the fish in there for ages. 

Some of them stuck their noses up out of the water, which was interesting to see. People leant in and petted them, despite the many signs saying "Do not pet the fish."  I didn't. 

It was a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours.

The Natural History Museum was a zoo, ironically. 

We sped through the minerals gallery and looked unsuccessfully for the giant tree thingy, but eventually the hordes of proles with squealing howler monkey offspring drove us back out into the rain.  Bastards. 

I tell you what though, I couldn't live there.  London is great to visit but the traffic!  The crowds!  The sheer balls-ache of trying to get anywhere if you aren't near a Tube station.  Gah.  Sod that. 

I'd rather be here, where even though you get stuck behind tractors and run off the road by combine harvesters and delayed by herds of cows, you can at least get from A to B without having to reverse the entire length of a street because there isn't room for two cars to pass**.

*The Aquarium people, not the fish.  I'd have paid extra to watch the fish playing ambient chillout music. 

**Although to be fair sometimes you have to reverse all the way back down a little windy lane to let a big oil tanker truck get past. 

Mad scientists

Hello! Gosh, look, Wednesday already and I'm only just posting. I'd apologise, but as I know it will happen again it seems redundant.

Let's all just accept that I am posting less than I was, but with no corresponding increase in quality, and leave it at that, shall we? Then we can all get on with our lives.

Today, despite it being one of my "sitting at home and swearing at my laptop" days, I was in London.

Again!

I know!

How much more of this excitement can we stand?

London was looking nice in the sunshine today. And yesterday, when I walked back to Waterloo enjoying the scenery. I took some arty photos, when I am less tired I will upload them and share.

There were more police than I have ever seen in my life around Parliament Square, and when I saw the BBC website about the removal of the Tamil sit-down protest in the small hours, I realised why. It's all been remarkably low-key on the news; I can only assume that the BBC are trying not to raise the profile of the protesters by not mentioning it much.

I was at the Royal Society today, where the door handles are made of magical crystal with DNA helixes (helices? Spiral-type thingies anyway) embedded inside them.

It was an interesting seminar and a fine lunch, and I got to walk back to the office through St James' Park looking at the squirrels and birds. Not half bad.

But now I have to go to bed as I am up at 6 again tomorrow. I will of course have been awake since 4.30 but hey, at least it's light.

Harbingers

Spring is springing. Hurrah.

Today, on my absurdly early drive to the railway station, I saw:

A barn owl, landing dramatically on a fence post
Three hares, running around a field chasing each other
Several roe deer, standing about like the idle sods they are
Numerous pheasants
Numerous quail (I think), but possibly partridge
Primroses
Daffodils
A few scraggly snowdrops

About time too. Winter's been going on for so long that it feels like we live in Narnia.

The walk from Waterloo to Victoria was glorious, all the buildings around Parliament Square glowing in the sunshine.

There were many dazed Japanese tourists almost getting flattened by taxis as they tried to negotiare the complicated pedestrian crossings. They were all dragging those big suitcases on wheels, which made them walk as if they were leading a pack of surly dogs, the cases tipping onto one wheel and then the other as they lurched along the pavements.

In case we managed to avoid that particular hazard, they took turns stopping dead in the middle of the street to take photos of each other pointing at Big Ben.

There is a crossing on Westminster Bridge where you can dart across, against the lights, to the refuge in the middle of the road if you're quick. I did this. A couple of other commuter types did the same. The group of Japanese tourists followed suit, their cases spilling off the refuge and into the road , causing taxi drivers to swerve and shout threats. It was mildly entertaining.

Is there some central casting depot in Japan where they train these people? Adverts in the press: "Come to England and behave like every stereotypical tourist ever lampooned in a poor attempt at comedy"? If so, they are doing a fantastic job.

Other news: There is the beginning of a promising long-term feud brewing at work. I always put two spaces after a full-stop when I write, so-called "English punctuation" according to Wiki*. I was taught that was correct, and have been doing so for many many years. The rest of the office only put one space, so-called "French punctuation".

Annoyingly, the house style guide backs up the rest of the team, and not me. We are therefore all amending each others' drafts to reflect our own personal preference with every iteration. I have already conceded the removal of a semi-colon at the end of a bullet point, but I am prepared to take the full-stop spacing issue all the way to the bitter end. Unless I am overwhelmingly proved wrong by the internet**, which I trust implicitly.

This will run and run.





*which is never wrong, as any fule kno.

**see above

Something for the weekend

Aaah, Friday. Praise be. There were times this week when I thought I'd never see the end of it, but here we are.

Today has actually been rather good. Drove to work in horrific monsoon-stylee* weather for our big team planning session. One of the team, in a fit of enthusiasm had said he'd bring in cakes**.

He brought cakes, in a variety of flavours, doughnuts, cookies, and a large bunch of bananas.

Also sausage rolls and chicken pies.

Not quite sure why he thought we needed so much delicious baked food at 9.30 in the morning, but I didn't hear anyone complaining about it.

We ate our way through the mountain of comestibles and did our planning, and it was actually rather good. I suggested to the team that we stop at lunchtime to go to the pub. They liked this idea, which evolved into a "why don't we just work through till we finish this, then go to the pub and have an early finish?" Which we did.

I think that we have all put in enough additional hours over the last few weeks to merit an early end to the week on a pissy wet Friday afternoon.

If anyone wants to complain about it, by all means*** email me.

Drove home in yet more pissing rain, skilfully avoiding the massive tailback on the A303 at Stonehenge. Managed to get stuck behind a car of terrified Japanese tourists as I traversed Salisbury Plain. I knew it was a car full of tourists because it was brand new and driving painfully slowly along the white line in the middle of the road.

I think when foreign tourists see a 40 sign, they think it means kilometers per hour, not miles per hour. Anyway, this lot were doing about 25 mph and creating a huge grumpy tailback behind them.

I overtook at a safe bit of road, causing them to panic unnecessarily and swerve into (and then back out of) a tank crossing (not my fault, they were just crap at driving). When I looked in my rear view mirror I saw that the car was full of Japanese people, all scared witless. The driver looked like someone trying to pilot a light aircraft to a jungle airstrip in a hurricane, all white knuckles and huge eyes.

I expect they were heading to Bath, 30 miles away. Good luck with that, then. They're probably still negotiating the one-way system as I type this, six hours later.

My lovely guitar teacher turned up at 6 and we had a great lesson. My rendition of the Police's "Can't Stand Losing You" is almost passable now. Yay me.

Just as he was leaving, Bro-in-Law WithaY arrived, and we amused ourselves for the next hour or so by eating cupcakes and putting the world to rights. Mr WithaY then arrived home, having driven all the way back from Richmond in Yorksire in the rain. Poor bugger.

Plans for the weekend include visiting father-in-law WithaY in hospital tomorrow and then possibly going to the pictures to see Hancock, if we can be arsed. And sleeping. And maybe making some more cupcakes.

I will probably also spend at least some of the weekend staring out at the rain, grumbling.

I am in the mood to buy some stuff from Amazon. I have no money, but that seldom stops me. I fancy a few new cds and at least one book.

Heard Steve Wright in the afternoon talking about a book which supposedly allows you to analyse a person's personality by their stuff.

Hmm, let me think about this theory.

If you came to my house and it was full of, say, railway memorabilia, you would draw some conclusions. Perhaps that I was interested in railways? Had always dreamed of being a train driver? Lived on my own and quite possibly had a railwayman's uniform up in my bedroom?

Likewise, if I came to your house and it was full of soft toys and pictures of unicorns, I would draw conclusions about you. Perhaps that you didn't get out much? Read too many sci-fantasy novels? Had issues around forming adult relationships?

I should write a book.

*The climate, not the chain store...it wasn't weather dressed in over-priced floppy dresses and teeny colourful cardigans.

**To help us think.

***And I will ignore you, you whinging bastards.

Castles

Photos from the weekend. If you watched "Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves", you will recognise both the castle and the grotto. If you don't, watch it again, and pay more attention.

Sorry if you now have that godawful Bryan Adams song going round your head, by the way.


This is Old Wardour Castle, from the front. Hence the door.


This is the Eighteenth Century grotto, put there by Capability Brown on one of his "Call this scenic? I can improve on this shitty old countryside." jags.


And hey, he was right.


There was a wedding being held there later in the day. The flowers were lovely, we could smell them from the other side of the huge gridded iron door. Most atmospheric. "Yes, we got married in a dungeon."


This is a view of the lake, again a Capability "I laugh in your face, puny natural features" Brown addition I think.


This is the Eighteenth Century summer house thingy. Also fitted up for a wedding. Note the glorious Wiltshire countryside. There in the background. The green stuff.


A side view of the castle, demonstrating what they mean when they talk about a place being made "indefensible". Yes, there used to be more walls around the back.

And finally....



Gold Hill, in Shaftesbury, where we went for lunch. A bugger to cycle down. Or up.