Post card from Great Shoddesden ( Hampshire) August 2013

Farm in Great Shoddesden

The visits to beautiful Great Shoddesden for my annual pilgrimage, a retreat to the country side are a pleasant distraction for me from the city life. Since my last visit in September 2012 the country side surrounding my place of stay had not changed at all and I guess the country side rarely show any dramatic changes in its landscape over a short period of time. However this time in  August I was pleased that  the barren farm land which  I could see from my bedroom window last year  was  full of beautiful yellow fields ready for harvest. I got there just in time with my camera for photos as the combine harvester was waiting in the wings to do its job.

 The county of Hampshire is popular place where The Ministry of Defence (MOD) has their bases at place like Andover and Tidworth and great deal of army training is carried out in and around the county. Tidworth, the town not very from Great Shoddesden has a small convenience store run by the Nepalese for the Ghurkha people serving in the army. Every time I visit this incredibly beautiful county with its thatched roof cottages and ever green fields, I often feel out of place as I have never bumped into any one from ethic background. My visits to Great Shoddesden always remind me that this green and pleasant land is “for ever England”, for the true blue English breed! I cannot see our Government, ever sending any asylum seekers or the refugees to places around Hampshire. After my few days of stay in Great Shoddesden, I am always pleased to be homeward bound; being “sent to Coventry” is in fact a joy for me to hear because I live in Coventry amongst people from different ethnic back grounds, recently large number of refugees and asylum seekers.

 The scenic route from Great Shoddesden through Dorset to sea side resort of Poole leads to the Island of Brownsea, which is managed by National Trust. The Brownsea Island is rich in wildlife and has been made famous by Lord Baden-Powell who started the scouts and guides movement over a century ago and it has spread world wide. Driving back from Poole via Sandbank away from busy sea side resort of Bournemouth was worth the visit to the lovely little village of Great Shoddesden.       

 P.S. I have brought myself up date with writing my blog sooner then I thought I would and I  have until April 2014 to complete what I started, that is my fifty years in England, using travel theme and my 7000 photographs to help me write this blog. Though I am slowing down and enjoying my life walking to the end of my garden ( take note those who think I am never at home) I have few more trips on mind and hope I shall be able to make them to take me to the end of my blog period. I will continue to write this blog at Xmas time, perhaps on Xmas day, that would a novel way to avoid the festive day? So do look out for this space, for some more of my traveller's tale after the festive season is over!

 

 

Post card from London, July 2013

Camden Market in Camden Town, London

London, beautiful city of London, the great capital of England was my home for a short time and I visit the city almost every year to watch the crowd, visit art galleries and meet old friends. This year because I have been writing this blog since May and remembering my past and getting very emotional writing about it, I had this sudden desire to visit my old haunts, yet again, this time with a camera in tow. So off I went for three days adventure down the memory lane. Starting with a walk from St Margaret’s station to my old flat, in St. Margaret’s (Twickenham). No answer from the knock on my old flat number 4, instead I had a chat with the couple in the big house below my old flat, took pictures of them for memories, because memories are made of photos. I then walked to the Richmond Lock and stood at the bridge thinking about all the private letters (38) I sunk to the bottom of river Thames, with a brick in a plastic bag, polluting the river with my anger! Memories are made in writing too! Caught a train from Richmond to Kew where I lived in No. 28 Cambridge cottage, within walking distance from the botanical Kew Gardens. Then the garden’s entry fee was one whole penny! Now it is £16/£14. I then caught a red London bus number 65 all the way to Ealing leading to Madeley Road where I shacked up in a bedsit for few weeks without the landlord’s knowledge! Memories are made of lots of odd bits and pieces!

 The highlight of my trip to London was of course down the memory lane however I added some more photos to my ever increasing file of memories now stored on my computer. A long train ride to  see the Olympic Park was disappointment because I was not allowed in but I was able to take photos of the sculpture Orbit by Anish Kapoor, from the view observation platform situated outside on the road side. Then,  after few tubes ride away I landed myself  near the Tate Modern and over the wobbly bridge ( my brother-in-law had a hand in building it) which gave me a chance to view and photo the newly built skyscraper The Shard. My final resting place after travelling around London’s concert jungle was in Camden Town Market, incredibly vibrant with life and colour. I loved being there, if only for few hours.

Post card from Caldey Island ( Pembrokeshire) April 2013

Caldey Island

Another year and another special date to remind myself that I am getting older. Fifty years ago in 1963, Martin Luther King had a dream for his people; it was also the year when I landed in England with my mum and two sisters to start our new life full of our very own dreams. I followed lots of mine, some of them turned into nightmare, some impossible made possible and most just boring old dreams, sharing day to day dream life with the rest of the human race on this planet. However 24th April 2013 on Caldey island I felt I was all alone on one of my desert Island dreams, it only lasted for a short time though and it was nothing like the desert island Lucy Irvine (writer of her book “Castaway”) went to when she answered the advertisement for “writer seeks wife for a year on a tropical Island….”  

 Caldey Island lies three miles from Tenby harbour and has a population of mere 25 of which 12 are monks. It is a private island owned by Reformed Cistercian Order and is entirely self sufficient. The monks farm the land, milk the cows, start praying for the world peace and the rest from 3.45 am and have set up enterprise schemes such as making perfumes, toiletries and chocolates to sell to the tourist. There is bird life, sea life and lot of woodland kept in pristine condition to get away from the crowd of tourists. The few vehicles allowed on the island are used for transporting goods and people from the jetty. The local boatmen ferry tourists and Islanders to and from the mainland town of Tenby.

 

My short stay in a house next to the lighthouse, up the one and only road in the village will never be repeated again because real dreams come into life only once and I have lived to tell my tale. Furthermore the number of men who wants to become Monks is in decline and the idyllic life I had experienced and those who still live it on the Island will die sooner rather then later; sad but true!