DEAL. Kent Coast. England

            Deal, is a pretty seaside town, in Southern England. Eight miles from Ramsgate in the South, and eight miles from Dover in the North East. A mere twenty fives miles to France, across the English Channel. Situated not far from the Goodwin sands, which offer both a danger to shipping, and a safe barrier for Deal. It was always one of the busiest ports, although it has no harbour. At one time, it was said, that hundreds of ships could be seen from the shingle beach.

             As as small fishing village, so close to France, it long held the reputation of being a smugglers haven. As did many of the seaside towns along this coast. So much so, that in 1784, William Pitt, the younger, then Lord warden of Walmer, close by, sent in the troops. Positioning a navel cutter off the beach to stop any boats escaping, he ordered all boats smashed, and burnt. As well  as smuggling, later on, the boatmen, as members of the Chinqu Ports, had rights under charter, to import goods for services to the realm. Defending the coast, and rescuing shipwreck survivors, which they did bravely.

            Today, there are a still good number of public houses along the sea front, far more than one on corner, as was once attested. Many are also small hotels, or Bed & Breakfast places today. As befits a seaside, holiday town on the South coast, all offering a selection of good food, with some excellent fish dishes amongst the smartest of them, The Dunkerley being one of the prettiest. All are of some historical significance, none of them being modern, this fishing village, mentioned in the Doomsday book. With many other mentions through history. Many of them uncomplimentary, as recently as 1823 a writer of guide books described it as 'a villainous place, full of filthy looking people' It's no wonder England is an interesting place to visit, is it? So brim full of history. For those visitors from new countries, like America, and Australia, it is walking into history, so much of it remains. Why, I was born here, and I love it's history.

                           The small parlour of one such small hotel/public house. 

                                          Opposite the site of the pier.

   

       The pier, 311m long,  is centrally located, along the main sea front of the town. This is the third pier in its history since the first in 1838.  It is long, said to be as long as the Titanic, in fact, the ship was marginally shorter, but not by much. It boasts a restaurant at the end, although better known as a favourite place for local fishmen. Being well known for fishing competitions. If you are not a fisherman, you could sit on one of the many sheltered benches along its length. 

    

                                         The current pier, built in 1957

         This is quite an artistic town, with a good community of artists. I have spent some happy afternoons there when they are  holding their annual open studios. As do a few other coastal towns of the area, but theirs was the friendliest. I think the shops reflect this too, with more than a few shops, with both artists materials, and retro painted furniture, gift shops, and some recycled  fashion outlets. I find it a lovely little place to spend a day. What makes it nicer, is the growing assortment of cafes, and eating places around. This last weekend I discovered another new one, well new to me. In the high street, open on a Sunday, with some fine home cooked fancies. It is called the 'Pop Up Cafe,' only small, and simply furnished, but with classy touches I appreciated. A little timer to ensure the tea is brewed right, home made cakes, and two very pleasant people in charge. I suggest both you, and I return often, to see what they have new on the menu. See them on Facebook.

             The castle located almost on the beach there is very unusual. One of the original coastal defences, built by Henry V111, is an amazing place to visit.  Built in the rose pattern, which is six sprawling curved petals, enclosing six smaller petals, enclosing a circular centre, each one higher than the last. It needs to be seen from the air to appreciate its charm, and beauty. Although until recent years, the Queen Mother, I was told, used it regularly as her holiday destination by the coast. Someone, on reading this, says, ' no, it was to Walmer Castle she went' this a only a very short distance away. It is possible to tour the Deal castle most weekends, being open more days in the summer months.

          A barracks was located in nearby Walmer, with the troops familiar in the town. Called the Deal barracks, it was the Royal Marine school of Music. As was a Naval shipyards, which helped the town prosper. The site of the Timeball Tower, a museum today. The Royal Marines were active throughout the last war. Although in 1989 the IRA bombed the barracks, killing 11, and wounding twice that number.

          The town is old, as you would expect of such a varied history. Although today, with large mansion blocks of the Victorian, and Georgian era built along the seafront,  it has a grander appearance than a mere fishing village. The flotilla of small boats are still drawn up on the beach, keeping that fishing flavour to the place. With its small narrow, and crowded streets, from earlier centuries, it is a charming place to visit. With plenty more still to discover.

          

              

                                    The flotilla of boats is still found along the beach

                 DEAL, is varied, and interesting, with far more going on than I can mention here today. I heartily recommend a visit. It's a place, I almost bought a place to live a few years ago! I often think of repeating the excercise. It has a more gentile reputation than many other towns along this coast. Well deserved I think, with a fine stock of houses, from all eras.

                Post script to this blog.

                When first published, the people of Deal replied in great numbers to me. Certainly not seen in reply to any other town I have written about. It says to me, that there are many people there who not only enjoy being part of the town, but are also dedicated to its well being, and it's future.

                 I thank you all, it gave me a real buzz.

      

Sandwich...Medieval town. Kent

           Sandwich, is a lovely example of a true Medieval town. Situated north of Ramsgate, on the main road to Dover, it lies beyond a piece of low wetland, the East Kent marshes, not far from the sea. Once the town was on the sea, until a serious storm of 1287 silted up the channels. As it did with the river Wantsum, when it reunited the isle of Thanet with the mainland of Kent. The Port of Sandwich is now two miles from the sea, beside the river Stour, still with a small, but busy marina. It is one of the Cinque Ports, of Dover, Hythe, Romney, and Hastings. The present port, inland as it now is, is dated around 1760.

                             Present day port of Sandwich, on the river Stour

         

          The name of Sandwich probably came from the Saxon, meaning sandy place, or trading place on the sand. First mentioned in 664AD. It was probably founded before that in early Roman times. Sandwich being the place well known for famous landings over the millennia. The roman general Claudius was one such. Just up the road, is the famous Richborough Roman Fort. Many sailings went from there to the New world of America. The most famous being 'The Hercules', taking sixteen brave souls across the sea, where they settled. There are towns named after the original in Massachusetts, Illunois, and Ontario, Canada.

           The town was a major trading port, during the 11th, through to the 13th Century. As such, was attacked by the French many times. Despite many heavy losses, the French were repulsed  time, after time. Today, as it's still a market town, whilst the French no longer attack, but trade. There are annual French markets, and it's twinned with its major protagonist Hornfuer, in France. It being the biggest, and last  of the attacks on this busy port. It needed its gates, and it's walls, for its own security. The gate still there, is a good example of the sophistication achieved in defences of its people.

            The town is scattered with evidence of its long, and vital history. A fine 13/14 Century church,  St. Peters, sits in the centre of town. Whilst the Tudor hotel, The Bell is situated towards the harbour. Across  from there is the wonderful Barbican gate, of 1536, which is still part of the exit to the town. Beyond the gate, and over the river, is the old toll bridge, still in use today.

                                        The historic Barbican gate

            On the town side of this gate, are many fine houses, dating from the settling of the Flemmings here in the 1560's. These Flemish weavers made themselves an important part of the town, living in streets adjoining the harbour. Convenient for the shipping of their goods. The red bricks, used to build many houses from that period, were bought back in the  empty ships as ballast, from the continent. So that full ships could be taken out again. The town being conveniently placed for reaching the Continent.

                      The street of the original Flemish weavers, all houses are in use still.

          This smallish town, is surrounded by three, or four, lovely villages. All worth the time to explore. Today, the town has a pretty park, next to a historic, three and a half acres of cultivated gardens. The Salutarion Gardens, the finest example around. It boasts a tea room, and Bed, and. Breakfast, in huge main 1911/12 Manor house, and several cottages. There many public houses around the town, as all ports are renowned for, each offering something different, and simple in the culinary line. Of these, most are at least a couple of hundred years old. There are shops of every description, fitted in the most interesting, and historic buildings. A fine town hall, sits next to the market place, with a small cinema, and a railway station nearby.

           The town holds a few good fairs during the Summer months, when stalls, and side shows throng the streets. Each one is well organised, and interesting. As with many medieval towns, the width of the streets presents a problem for modern traffic. However, as it's mostly one way, and only 20 miles an hour, there is still room to walk around the town, and explore. There is much to see. I have been there many times, and don't believe I have discovered more than half of it yet.

           Do visit sandwich, it is quite unique. It is still possible to take a boat trip from there, out to sea, and go seal spotting for the afternoon. On your return, you can have some of the finest fish, and chips in the area, on the Quay side, next to The Bell. Or, in the Bell itself, you can dine well, in pleasant surroundings, sometimes by an open fire. Very welcome in the winter months I can assure you.

           Sandwich, awaits you, comes see some true, living history. As you can do in few other places.

www.visitsandwich.co.uk/ 

www.sandwich.stulight.co.uk/ 

www.secretgardenofsandwich.co.uk/

Canterbury, Kent. England

         Canterbury, sitting on the River Stour, is a mere 55 miles South from London. It is firstly, a World Heritage site, and a university town. This fact, especially in term time, is the most noticeable, swelled as it is by some 17,000 people. Even though this number is spread about a little in both Broadstairs, and Gillingham, two towns within twenty miles. Some 41% of that number are part time too, although it's still a bustling population. The whole place throngs with young, and vibrant people. I just love the energy of all those young people, just starting out on their life.  The town has a buzz, and an energy around its narrow streets, its crowded buildings. 

         This ancient town, is especially interesting at the times of the years when the students are awarded their degrees. Which, they receive within the famous Canterbury Cathedral, located in the very centre of it's partly cobbled streets. The cathedral where in 1170, Thomas Becket met his untimely end. After which, it became a place of Pilgrimage. Giving rise to the famous 14 Century, Canterbury Tales, written by Geoffrey Chaucer. It is one of the oldest of all Christian structures, dated from 597 when it converted to Christianity. In the U.K. a town only becomes a city, when it has a Cathedral. This church, is a particularly large, and beautiful one, as are the buildings around it. If visiting the city, allow time to fully explore every side of the grand building.

      

   At that time of graduations, the students stroll the streets with their families, wearing their traditional loose gowns, and mortars. Each subject, or discipline a different colour flash around the cowl of the gown. Sometimes, I sit for hours watching the casual procession passing. An easy enough thing to do in the centre of town. A place where, the mainly pedestrian streets, are scattered with small pavement cafes, where you can sit, snack, and drink coffee to your hearts content. As the many students, of assorted ages, and their proud families wander the town, having lunch, or merely being seen, and seeing. On their way to, or from, the ceremonies within the Cathedral.

         Of course, you cannot fail to notice the town itself. A mixture of mainly medieval, and Tudor buildings. The centre surrounded by the remains of the city wall. A wall where you can walk around the top, well above the town. The area of city is some 130 acres.

The wall, when complete, held seven gates, some, like the one above, still survive. If you are a lover of either History, or architecture you will love Canterbury. 

           The town is a tourist hotspot of course, with above 114 hotels. There are so many things to see, and do, a theatre, tours, and river trips, old pubs, and a wealth of restaurants. With regular fruit, and gift markets held in the town centre, complimenting the range is shops available. The town is surrounded by rolling farmland, and country lanes. The whole of a Kent being called the Garden of England, because of its rich soil, and abundant fruit orchards, and hop fields. Many old Oast houses, with their distinctive pointed cowl, remain scattered around the countryside. Places, where once the hops, were dried before being made into beer.

          Canterbury, is the icing on the cake, a city so rich in history, it cannot fail to interest. 

          www.tripadvisor.co.uk.....Canterbury 

          www.canterbury.co.uk/thedms.aspx? 

          #(canterburyccuni) twitter

          #wonderful maps of Canterbury. 

The Isle of Thanet, Kent, England.

         The very furthest point of the Kent coast, lying on the southwest corner is Margate. This quintessential seaside town, is the largest of three towns that makes up The Isle of Thanet. The other two, are Ramsgate, and Broadstairs. They are all coastal towns, each one quite different in character, from the other. However, all three are blessed with wonderful sandy beaches, and are good holiday destinations. I say blessed, because much of the beaches  along the south coast, including towns like Brighton, are shingle. 

          All beaches along the southerns stretch, are backed by the well known white chalk cliffs, a continuation of Dover. It is possible, at low tide, to walk from Ramsgate to Broadstairs, along the wide beach, following the cliffs eastward in the general direction of Margate. It is a brisk walk of perhaps forty five minutes. On leaving Broadstairs again, you could walk part of the way to Margate, at least to Joss Bay. The rest of that coastline is too rocky, and uncertain. The stretches between exits from below the cliffs, too long to hazard. You could walk the cliff path instead for this portion, as its truly wonderful, meandering along a stunning cliff top, by a broad expanse of the English Channel. These same paths follow the cliff top from Broadstairs, to Ramsgate too. 

                                   The isle was once a very real island

            These three towns, making up the Isle ofThanet. Was once a small island, cut off from the mainland of Kent by a wide sweep of the sea. Over the last one hundred years, sand has clogged the waterway, until it is no more than a narrow stream. Named the River Wantsum. The main road crosses it still, on the way onto Thanet, although all you can see is the sign stating the name of the river. Being isolated for so long before this, resulted in the population having their own quirky character. The locals call the place, 'The Planet of Thanet'. Of course, the population is more fluid today, with Europeans coming in, and always people like myself, discovering the area. Make of the name what you will, it's still worth a visit, with each town so accessible to the other.

                                           The off shore wind farm, margate

             There is an offshore wind farm near margate, built over the last couple of years. It is the third largest, off shore wind  farm in the world. Local opinion is divided on its efficiency. Publicity asserting the case both for, and against the site, abounds. Some locals going so far as to assert the farm creates a windy environment for the whole area. Although, as an inhabitant of the area, I must say I have noticed no drastic changes in regard to the wind. Any coast in England has it's fair share of windy conditions, being on an island as we are. Someone said to me yesterday, it being now December and the midst of winter, that 'the wind does not so much go around you, as through you.' Well, that's coastal living for you. Although this last summer, it was like the Riviera here, hot, and sunny for month, after month.

            Margate is, or was the playground of Thanet. In the sixties, and seventies it had a booming holiday industry. With its own grand fairground, a sort of Cony island of the south. Then in the eighties, it hit a decline, from which it has never recovered. Only now, is there concrete plans to rebuild, and reopen the complex. Even without this, it is still a place worth a visit. It has a great curve of beach, where donkeys still offer rides to children in the summer, and shell fish stalls, and cafes sell snacks, and food. It has a nice little harbour arm, retaining the charm of the Victorian era. To walk around its crowded streets, is to catch a glimpse of earlier times, with little squares, and old shops. In the past few years, the very modern Turner gallery, has been built. Celebrating the life, and works of the great painter Turner. Who lived, and worked for long periods in the area.

                                                         MARGATE BEACH

       Broadstairs, is a far more genteel place, with its own pretty bay, and sandy beach. Enclosed by a nice little breakwater, and small harbour. A mooring place for many small fishing boats,and dingies. The housing stock is grander overall, and with a grand hotel,The Albion. One of the many places around the town that Charles dickens wrote his famous books. A small castle sits on the small hill top overlooking the sea. The original Bleak house of the book of the same name, another favoured lodging house of his. His study, can still be visited, after you have taken tea in the garden below. It is run as small hotel, one of many in the town. Yet if you see it there in the winter, when the mist, and fog swirls around its un-sheltered walls, you can see how it got its name, of Bleak House, for bleak it is. You will find many mentions, and names from Dickins books around the town.

                             BROADSAIRS BEACH, WITH BLEAK HOUSE AT THE REAR.

              With ramsgate, the beach is just as good as the others, with a couple of beach cafes, and a few rides for children. Once, there was a railway track, and station which ran down to the beach. Relocated a few decades back, it illustrates how popular was this beach in Victorian times. Above, on the cliff top was a grand, spa hotel where every type of water treatment was available. Today, the grand building is converted into flats. Accross from there is a small theatre, cinema complex. Apart from that, there are a couple of small hotels, and a whole raft of bed and breakfast houses. The small town has all amenities, with a newly built public swimming pool, and gym. What's special about Ramsgate, is it's large harbour. Until last year, it was a ferry terminal, running to Europe, and I think, is likely to be so again in the future. Besides this, is the Royal Yacht Harbour. By the side of this busy harbour, are a string of more upmarket cafes, and restaurants. A very pleasant place to sit in either summer, or winter when they are warm, and cosy. The whole centre of the town has a Victorian feel, with many interesting buildings. These networked with the old alley walk ways common to many parts of London. To the west of the town, towards the main roads to London lies Pegwell. Once a village, it is now a place where the local annual fairs are held on its grass headland, near the old Priory. That area holds a couple of large blocks of apartments, and is a pleasant place to walk, with wide esplanades. A nice hotel, with interesting clock tower, and two pubs with good food, sit furtheralong  the cliff top, in Pegwell proper.(not officially part of the original Thanet?)

                                   Ramsgate esplanade and main beach

            Continuing on, into the distance brings you into the harbour, past the old casino. Along by the marina you will discover a whole range of cafes, most with outside, and inside eating areas. Between the two places, is a building site, where one day?, so they say will stand a modern complex of apartments, and shops right next to the beach. How that will cope with rising seas in the coming years,  I do not know. Except the plans are very upmarket, and desirable. Becasue of the recession, the whole project has been delayed many times. I think fair to say, beset by problems of all kinds.

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                ON THE SEAFRONT, OLD HOUSES BUILT INTO THE CHALK CLIFFS, 

        In Ramsgate. Above this, on the clifftop, you will find the Granville Theatre, a working theatre, and cinema still. Overall, Thanet is worth a look, being diverse, one town from the other. All having their own unique character. Once, it's locals were unique too, being an island, the  people tend to be different. Not so much now I think, after the last decade or so, the influx of london evacuees, and latterly Eastern Europeans flooding in, have inundated Ramsgate the worst.

          Despite this, ramsgate is overall, slowly dragging itself upward, and onward. Good luck to it I say. Why is it that politicians can never see that swamping any area with with too many outsiders puts eveyone under extreme pressure. Be it local, national, or international, an influx in great numbers is impossible to absorb. Especially if they are mainly unemployed, or unemployable. I know you won't see me wandering about in town at night times. It's not the kind of atmospher I enjoy, I prefer a more relaxed and friendly atmosphere altogether. Sorry Ramsgate.

      

The UK. THE WHITE CLIFFS OF DOVER

        The White Cliffs of Dover are quite famous, symbolising the fist approach to Great Britian. From films, songs from the war, and being so amazingly visible as you approach this small, overcrowded land, it is hardly surprising. They are actually chalk cliffs, which stretch for mile, after mile, around the curve of the south coast of England. For those of you who don't know, and I am always staggered about how often I see mistakes on TV, or in films on this. England, is only part of Great Britain, or the United Kingdom (UK). The whole, consisting of England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. To be precise, only Northern Ireland, not Southern Ireland are part of the the UK. The south being under independent rule. The historic reasons, being political, and mainly religious at the core. I must admit, Ireland's history is complicated, of long standing feuds, anger, and the fight for freedom from English rule.

        I realise, as I begin talking about Ireland, that this is a whole full, and vital story for another time. A fascinating, and bloody tale, of which my own ancestors must have been involved. My beloved grandmother, came from a  red headed Irish family. Her father, being nothing less than a little fiery headed leprechaun, come to life. She herself, had the most magnificent, wavy dark red, chestnut, hair. Their family name was Keilly, as you might suppose. I myself, like to think that some of my more artistic gifts come from those same Irish ancestors. They being renowned for their story telling abilities, as well as musical talent. That aspect inherited by my brother.

           For now though, back to the White Cliffs. They must always have been a formidable sight, as well as a barrier to invaders. To Hitler, in the last war, they became the symbol of defiance. The British are rather good at defiance. Not always a clever response, but they can be a belligerent race, and very determined. Illustrated, by how they spread so far around the globe. Good, then, at sticking two fingers up to the world. The sign showing the backs of the fingers, not the front, as in Winston Churchill's famous V for Victory sign.

           The story of the two fingered salute, ( showing the backs of fingers to the world) is an interesting one, and not unrelated to the cliffs. It comes from the past, when the bowmen of England were renowned for their skill, with long bow, and arrow. Before the days of guns, and bombs, when war had something of chivalry in it still. Although, no less bloody. The best of the English bowmen, the foot soldiers of whichever King held the throne, came, traditionally from Kent. The Kent Coast stretching down to the cliffs, and for a good stretch along towards the East of the land, past Dover. This county reaches right from the cliffs, up to london via the east coast. 

         When these bowmen held sway, then it was the law that every man must practice on the village green, every week. The yew bows, were not small, they were as tall as the men themselves, needing considerable power, and skill to pull, and shoot. Throughout those generations, it was common for the enemy, who feared, and resented these accurate, successful battalions, to take prisoners. When they did, the two fingers the bowman needed the most, the first, and second fingers of the right hand were removed. These are the fingers that hold the arrow steady on the string, for aiming, if you like. The hordes of bowmen, as they advanced, would, in defiance, hold up these two fingers, as they held them on the bow. It was an aggressive gesture, pretty much as used today, a 'f... you' kind  of response. See, we still have these two fingers, nothing will stop us dropping you where you stand. A formidable force, taking the opportunity to show nothing stops them. 

         Much as the message, the sight of the white cliffs would have delivered. Especially if, as a foreigner, you did not know the coves, and beaches where you could gain access to the land. Those chalk cliffs, are not as solid as they appear, being honeycombed with passages. Some naturally made by the ingress of water, filtering down, and along. Some either partially, or totally dug out deeper, and wider to provide easier access to men. It is still possible to see cave openings in many of the cliff sides. In the last war, whole communities lived, and worked in networks of these tunnels around Dover. Hiding, and holding troops, and vital communications to the war effort. As well as being used for protection during bombing raids. You can still visit, and walk through many of these today, some accessed from Dover Castle, high on the hill overlooking the harbour. Which today, is a bustling ferry port, running regular trips for vehicles, and passengers to the continent.

          Long before this, by some hundreds of years, were the smugglers. These enterprising sailors, both stored, and  ferried illegal goods through hidden tunnels, from beach to cliff top. The entrances hidden behind bushes, or rocks. All in an effort to avoid the customs men, and the taxes. Their spoils being mostly, alcohol, and tobacco from across the channel. Today, many of these tunnels still run under the towns, and villages. Easy to dig out, they have been traditionally used for storage, and cellars under many houses. One famous resident of Ramsgate, even lived in one, becoming a recluse, under a house which was actually, quite grand.

            With that, you see there is more than meets the eye when it comes to the White Cliffs of Dover. Both famous, and adaptable. Who knows what might be their use in the future.

           

Warkworth south of wellesford, north of Orewa NEW ZEALAND

         Warkworth is a proper country town. It is situated on a good sized river. One that ends in a wide, and beautiful weir. This flows down from under the main bridge in the middle of the town. Leaving behind a small stream that meanders through quite town, and countryside. The water, after falling down the several rocky, and stepped levels of the weir, flows into a wide, sweeping, and curving Mahurangi river. One that takes you, eventually out to the Mahurangi harbour, and then to sea, several miles distant. The wide river is over hung by a thick fringe of trees, and foliage, making the edges sometimes dark, rather more than shady. 

        The centre of the river, rushes, and swirls, busy with sunlight, and birds after insects, movement urged by the pull of the distant tide. The river, at high tide, is deep enough to get a fair sized sail boat up to the sturdy, quite new, dock. This being only perhaps fifty yards from where it becomes impassable, as it meets the weir upriver. Downstream, the river, meanders through the countryside around Warkworth. Cutting through past a distant Snells Beach, and to the harbour.

                                    Typical rolling hills found North of  Warkworth

        The town is set pretty much in the flat. Although there is a good rise from the centre of the town, to the road out, heading south, past the two petrol stations  supporting it. There are a couple of supermarkets of good size, a dozen cafes of various sorts, and a collection of pubs, with a thriving RSA (returned service men's club) You can find a few dress, and gift shops, a fancy underwear shop, showing hidden depths to farming Warkworth perhaps.....and a hardware store, library, church hall, furniture shops, and a couple of charity stores. The thing you always remember the most though, is the number of chemists. There must be three, all large, and seemingly thriving, almost next door to each other. I have never really understood why, and how they all survive. Perhaps the farmers, like to dose themselves, rather than sit, and wait for the doctors.

           It's the kind of place you might head for a snack, or to feed the ducks, the wide expanse of water, with plenty of seats beside the dock. Regularly, perhaps small boats moored, all a pretty nature break  from the busy shops nearby. It's pleasant sitting beside  the river. Giving a strong  flavour of early settlers, coming upriver to the town. Building their wooden houses, tucked a way in the tress, or atop the slopes. Today, in the sun, hundreds of ducks are around, calling, squabbling, and ready to be fed. Most if them ordinary brown Mallard ducks, but again, doing very well, thank you, obviously prolific, with plenty of food, both natural around the river, and begged from random pic knickers.

           Ducks are notoriously bad mothers, but so busy. Unthinking, they have their routine, which ducklings cannot disrupt. This means they travel up, and down, and along the side of the river, searching for food, I suppose. Of the fourteen or thereabout, ducklings they produce each hatching, generally fewer than two, or three survive. It's a sad sight to see the mother sailing off, leaving yet another duckling to become lost, or food for something bigger. Hawks in particular, know exactly where they are. Or sometimes eels, which grow to a large size, will pluck them off the river, with barely a ripple. It is a sad sight, and one I try to avoid. I did once try to reunite, ducklings with mothers, but it's impossible. Both, seem set on going in different directions, and away from me. Most of it happening down the side of the steep river bank. You realise, like those who travel to Africa, you must allow nature to take its course.

            Farming is the mainstay around those parts. Mixed with a bit of tourism. With mostly dairy herds, as with the vast majority of NZ , being the most common. When you think of New Zealand, you think of sheep, don't you. Yet passing the fields, all you see are cows. Either dairy, going back to the milking sheds twice a day for milking, and quite a few beef cows. There are smattering of other things, llamas, deer, ostrich, a few pig farms, and chickens. It's a country town, and people farming the surrounding acres, have had a go at anything, and everything over the years. Anything in order to keep the money flowing, and the fields productive I know. This is not a large agricultural area, more meadowland, and grazing. Or, as they call them here, paddocks.

           The people are typical country town folk. You know, it has that feel, flip flops, or wellies in the wet, casual clothes, a few hippie types.They like their mates, their booze, and their music, not necessarily in that order. They tend not to overdress. They are not city types, nor do they want to be. Both their dress, and their attitudes, are pleasantly casual. It impossible to dislike, only realise it no good being in a hurry.  So casual is it, it's sometimes possible to feel overdressed, although go to a dance, and the post frocks come out. 

          It really feels like you expect a small friendly town to feel. People like to help, so you can ask almost anything. The way, the time, make a passing remark to someone nearby, or exchange views. It all seems relaxed, and easy going. Even the youngsters, give you a smile. Even though, like many small towns today, there is not much for them  to do once they leave school. You discover, most New Zealander, try for a O.E., a big trip abroad. Even if they don't all make, most plan to go. I thInk, more adventurous  than most ordinary kids in the UK. 

        To reach Warkworth, from Auckland, in the North island, you head further North still. Passing Albany, then Silverdale, past the red beach entrance to the Whangaparaoa peninsular, and on past the little sea side town of Orewa. The even smaller spa town of Waiwera, is nestled at the base of a large hill, on the sea. Nothing much more than a few houses, a pub, and a petrol station, and a few miles of mangrove swamp. With its large, and busy water park, and it's spa facilities, it offers relaxation,an d massages. As well as a days food, and fun in the sun for all the family, you can  even watch an outdoor screening of the latest film as you soak in the naturally hot water. They boast a small crazy golf course, a church hall, a nice little beach with a. Couple of small hotels. it does OK.

           Big things were planned there in the way of hotel resorts, but with the dive in the world economy, it has never happened. One day it will, it will be picked up, and continued. it's bound to happen. From there, it's up hill again until Warkworth. With it's even more county neighbouring town of Wellesford, even further north. 

         Small, or larger houses are scattered over the paddocks. So termed, Lifestyle blocks.

           Now, we have just about covered all the major places from major town to small country so you run north from Auckland. It's a journey worth exploring! and, you will find even more than I can mention here. Cinemas, at Albany, garden centre at Silverdale, an Art centre at Orewa, in fact the whole area is chock full of artists. I know. I had some happy years there, as a practising artist, at the time the art centre was being set up. Artists always flock to beautiful places, so you will see many small studios, and galleries advertised as you travel. More, and mor of the sloping hills, are being transformed into wineries,  beyond Waiwera. if you get the chance, to explore, and enjoy this lovely country, I know you will find more than a few places of interest every day.

         Once more, I have left it's shores, I miss it already, lovely New Zealand. Except, the world beckons, does it not. So many places to see, and discover. So many people still to know.

         After the UK, I intend to explore more of Europe. With being so close to the Dover ferries, travel there can be inexpensive. I have plans, and dreams already. Once you take off, who knows who, or what you might meet on the way. Only that, there will be stories to tell, places to fall in love with, and new vistas ever beckoning.

          Enjoy all the world has to offer. If where you live, is not giving your soul, or body what it needs, explore, explore, explore. You will, for ever be surpised at what you find, at the diversity of this world of ours.

A photo of the rolling land between beaches, and coves.

Going towards Ruakaka ( two birds)

Ruakaka (two birds)

         This a little township, if you can call it that, situated north of Auckland. Yet still about an hour south of Whangarei, the biggest northland town. To be honest, there is very little here. A small grocers, a small chain grocery store, cafe, a newsagents, butchers, dollar shop, and a estate agent. I thnk there is also a doctors, and a dentist a bit further along. Oh, and a hole in the wall.

         The amenities then, are OK. But it is the countryside that makes the north special. This a mere stop on the way to main holiday place of The Bay of Islands. Which, is just what it says on the tin. A collection of islands just of the coast. The sea is magic of course, the whole of the northern coastline, is one little bay after another. Some with sand dunes, some with cliffs, and some with flat easy access. The sand is mile, after mile of flat, white tropical scenery. To walk any of it, is like entering a film set. The warm, balmy air, or sometimes, searing heat endorsing the effect. Often the sand is too hot to walk with bare feet, so come prepared. Although swishing along inside the water of the lapping waves, is always an option. Rocky headlands offer fishermen good positions to catch something without needing a boat.

          Here at Ruakaka, it is on the water, a few hundred yards down the road, perhaps 1 kl. at One Tree Point, is a newly built boat harbour. Barely begun as yet, but give it a year or two, and it will be as busy as the rest of this northland coast. The whole coastline is a boaties dream. Some of the older style Bach are not that large. It always amuses me, when you see a boat parked in the garden, often way bigger than the house itself. It give you the real feeling for the coast. The water, and access to it, is what it's all about.

             There is also a lovely little flat bit of coast, surrounded by mostly permanent homes now. As over the last few years, a lot of the little holiday places have become permanent homes. At which point people usually spend a bit of money on the, increasing the size, or the amenities.This is Ruakaka proper. You can canoe, swim, take the dingy, or the boat out with easy. Easy living, just about right on the beach.

         So when you visit NEW ZEALAND, get heading north, and enjoy as many stops on the way as you can. There is always something to discover. Some natural beauty, looking as if it came straight off the cover of a travel magazine.

           Farmland, mostly gazing for cattle, and sheep connect the little settlements, and the beautiful bays. This is all rolling hills, with some higher hills through the Brenderwns. All neatly fenced, I with wonderful trees, scattered so artfully, you would think each one was planed with the overal effect in mind. It wasn't of course. They were planted by the ultimate hand, of the big guy in the sky.

         Be prepared to motor a few miles, or kls as they say here. Every bent will offer something interesting, or beautiful. 

           Come, enjoy, because as well as natures welcome, you will find the local folks welcome. Just as good....enjoy

Red beach.. Whangerparaoa. N.Z.

           New Zealand again. Well, you know there is plenty to talk about. I am in the North Island for the entire trip, this year. The antipodes, is located in the Southern Hemisphere, the North is hot, the South is cold. Easy to remember, being the reverse of the Northern Hemisphere, for those who are used to the UK. or Europe. I am sure I must have said before, it's a reasonably under inhabited country. With only a fraction of people here, that are in most places in Europe. I think figures somewhere said, about the same number of people live in the whole country, as live in London. 

           This North island is the one with rolling hills, and deep valleys. As opposed to high, snow capped mountains, and deep drops. Both have rivers, and streams galore, both are beautiful. There are large tracts of bush scattered around the Islands, still quite unspoilt. Bush is composed of mainly tea tree, and palm, with some other small natives. Once giant kauri would have predominated. Logging over a hundred years ago, cut down most of those. With only a few scattered trees of any real size remaining. What do remain, are now protected.

            Here in Red Beach though, it is Urban, the palms are more cultivated, taller, and decorative. The whole of the peninsula of Whangaparaoa, of which Red Beach is the first small centre, is well established. Built up, with mostly single, and double storey buildings. Although, there are a few, constructed a little higher, three, four, levels, often, five. These higher ones tend to be the odd retirement block of flats, but often, quite up market too. New Zealand, along with the rest of the world, have a flood of growing retirement age peoples. People who want to live well, and are too fit to settle into old folks home. They really like these up to date, units, with facilities for movement into something more sheltered, as they age. I guess it makes a nice little community, if you like that kind of thing. I can't imagine it suiting me though.

              As for Red Beach, it originally got its name from the colour of the sand. Maybe way back, before anyone built there, it may have looked red, now, it's hardly any darker than any other beach around. There are one, or two big old trees around the main beech entrance, up from the surf club. These are the Pohutokawas, the native tree that blossoms with red flowers around Christmas time. They call it the NZ Christmas tree. When out in full flower, it is quite a sight. The nice thing is, they are a common sight all over the country. The Red Beach trees are great for kids to climb, with large limbs, leaning at an angle, and great for giving shade on the beach.

             A double, and a triple circle of nice houses, mostly updated, or newly built on old sites, sit smugly stacked, overlooking the vista of golden red sand, wide sea views, assorted islands, and nearbye headland. Most of these, sit high above the beach. Reached by a steep public path, or steps at the same angles, from their own homes. Nearer to the other end of the beach, next to the large trees, the slope is gentle. Easily accessible for all.

              As with the majority of beaches in this country, I have yet to see it heaving with people. Never, as you see in many European countries, stacked end to end with people spread on towels, wind breaks, or deck chairs. You may see, a dozen or so, or a few dogs on leads, when they are allowed during the winter months, or early hours on summer days. Otherwise, you walk, or sit with barely an interruption. A beachcomber on your own stretch of tropical beach. I have spend many a happy day on such beaches, relaxing, reading, dozing, and swimming.

               Red beach then, is perhaps the ideal place to live. Close to the amenities of Orewa, and of Silverdale. Also with their own little bakery, fish & chips shop, chemist, grocery, take away, and doctors. The roads are quiet to live in, some, sloped to give a hard walk, or close to everything you may need. 

              In England, it would be a little fishing village, here, it is a modern, clean, and attractive family place to settle down, and bring up a family. Within a mile or two, are schools, parks, and leisure centres, you would lack for nothing.

              Another of New Zealand's many destinations you could settle, and live the good life. Do not think it would be boring, or too quiet either. Two miles away, are a raceway, (motorised go carts), a ski, snow slope, both indoor, so quiet for neighbours. Orewa has boogie boards, and surf boards for hire. Gypsy fairs are held regularly nearby. With another surf club to teach the children, not only how to swim, but how to survive, and help save others. Something taken very seriously in both NZ, and Australia. There are few kids who do not belong to a surf club. For older visitors, or inhabitants, there are bowls clubs, dance classes, libraries, with boats, and fishing facilities everywhere you look.

             Soon to leave New Zealand again...for a while... I can heartily recommend this small community, and tell you, quite truthfully, there are so many more for you to discover. I could not begin to list them all.

            Come visit, or live, the Kiwi will welcome you, and if you are prepared to work hard, you will fit right in. With plenty of facilities, time, and sun for leisure.

             

             

Silverdale, near Auckland. New Zealand

         Where I sit this morning, working, writing this, is Silverdale. I always think that is such a neat name. When I first came here, it was only a crossroads, with a few scattered, old fashioned shops. Now it is hub in its own right. A speedily growing stock of housing, created the need for something more here. The town planners, predicted growth, to gradually become part of Albany, and on to Auckland itself. You know how it happens. It happens with most large cities. They gradually spread out, and small hamlets enlarge, until it is if they were designed that way. As one giant city. That, is what is happening here, whether that is the right way to go, or not. Time will tell.

          Well, it's not quite there yet, but it's not far away. In the meantime, some of the larger stores are now here, and there is a new leisure centre (even though private, and too expensive for all.)  There is a Bunnings, Pack and Save, Countdown, and Dress for Less. Then the Warehouse, and a flurry of small trendy stores, for storage, electrical, Manchester, software and the like. As well as a good smattering of coffee houses. Of which. I am in the best. Mosiac, part of a chain, but a good one. Not your smelly Starbucks, which always smells of sour milk, and turns my stomach. Fast food joints abound, Kentucky Chicken, McDonald's, The Rib & Roast, or all of those sorts. This one is far classier. With real food, not just high fat, high sugar options.

          Around me, it's Friday busy, and I am taking up valuable table space, but no one complains at me. They are unfailingly polite. Nearly all of the tables are full. Outside the sun is shining, diners outside, sit under red umbrellas. The breeze is just right. There, but not too strong, cooling us in the growing humid heat. The dishes as they pass me, are of the 'stacked' variety. They look large, fresh, and delicious. There is good selection of food. Panini's, wraps, salads, cakes (really exotic cake, my downfall) When, on the card menu, are beef burgers, chicken livers, risottos, steak fungetti, chicken, & bacon fettuccini, oh I could go on. You can tell by the noise volume, and the happy sound, that people are enjoying being there. I can heartily recommend a quick visit, or a long one.

           This, then is the new shopping centre. The new housing around it, is of a wide variety. No little buildings in rows, looking identical, as they do in England. It's far more organic here. The other thing I like about new sub divisions, is that all of the services go in first, along with creating the building level plot for the house base. Then, all the roading goes in, even the paths around the house. This means no one is building in the middle of a great dust bowl, or mud bath. It's so clean, and organised, even before its half way built, it looks attractive. England could learn a lot from this. It brings organisation, from chaos, and helps with the fastest clean up afterwards.

          From here, you are an easy travelling distance to Auckland, and the main road leading north

 to many holiday destinations. Up another hill, is the entrance the the Whangaparaoa Peninsular. Three sides, surrounded by water. There are a great many grand houses here, overlooking the sparkling sea, and pristine beaches. This was one of the original holiday places. The sort where families would buy a Bach. A small cottage, near the water, to bring the family to during the summer months. Now, it is all far more permanent. As through the years, these became more permanent, now used for young families, and retirees in the main.

        Just five minutes away is Orewa. It's gradually changing, but as yet is the retirees favourite place. Where it pays to look out for strange moves from the cars around you, as drivers do their own thing. As though they have reached the age when everything sounded rough. They tend to come at you from all directions. Parking in the centre car park, in front of the new world supermarket, is offering up your paintwork to the gods. I have have more mysterious scratches there, than anywhere else. Do they not know they have bumbed you, or do they just not own up? Ahhhh.

         A mystery it shall remain.

         Now, though, as well  as a high rise, built  before it's time block of apartments. It now has a couple of ice cream shops, and a wonderful new restaurant. Its called the Casablanca, and as it suggests sells Turkish, type dips, and bean dishes, with a twist. It very good, born out by the fact it's always fully booked,  and you must book well in advance to get a table. 

           If you can't get in there, one or two of the pubs sell decent food. The ship, or Muldoons.

Who also has local bands play. One of which is my brother, who once played back up to Dire Straits, in the days I knew mark knofler, lead singer, and guitarist. When my brother, he was in Praying Mantis  in london. This was before moving to New Zealand, and helping create Sticky Fingers. He is now running Stage four. You can guess why it has that particualrly name.

            Roll on eight o clock, and his great rock music.

           Yes,, folks, lots to come visit around Silverdale.....

            Too much for me to mention actually...

          

AUSTRALIA ...The Gold Coast, Queensland.

        The Gold Coast, just the name conjures exotic climes. Memories, of heat, and pools, and the sea, tumble together inside my head. Already in New Zealand, it is a short hop over the 'pond' as the locals call the Tasman Sea. Excitement builds, as I plan where to go. With the centre of the red land burning hot, most of the large towns are around the coast. What a coast though, from Darwin at the top, to Adelade at the bottom. What a magical country, as well as being a place well slanted towards having everything it's inhabitants could wish for. I tell you now, if if were not for the fact most f my family are still in England, I would live in Australia. In fact, it still my dream.

          Trip booked, fare reasonable from New Zealand,a. Couple of hundred NZ dollars. The trip is only a bare three hours long, you spend longer getting through customs, and on the plane, than the actual flying time. Even NZ is better thought out than England. The airport far more beautiful, and impressive. There are plenty of cafes, coffee places, shops, and seating areas to help you get through customs comfortably. What with today's extra security measures, getting through most airports can be a nightmare, but has to be done. Oh, for the old days, when things were simple, and we did not have nutters sitting on the sidelines, causing us hassles, and delays. Sometimes, I think the world is crazy. But what choice do we have, we must cope with whatever we need. I know, better safe than sorry. 

          I remember how easy, how simple it all once was. When my parents first began going on holiday abroad, when they were in their forties. As I had a young family, and could not imagine ever being able to fly anywhere. Always curious, I asked so many questions about the food on the plane, that they saved one of the tray meals, and bought it back for me to see, and try. Can you imagine trying to get through customs with that food today? The whole place would light up like a Christmas tree, as dogs, and staff descended to fine you, and slap your wrists, or even cart you away as an enemy of the state.

          Camels, are found in the outback. Imported long ago, and now quite at home.

         So, back to Australia,(and I wish I were).  Landing at the other end, is always exciting for me. I get this knot in my stomache, and a rising sense of excitement, I'm home, I'm home!  Something I have felt since my first visit, many years ago now. Even though I was not born here, nor lived here for a long  period. I did come, and go quite a lot, living the best part of three years there. Both when my parents, and brother lived there, and after my parents moved on to New Zealand.  My much missed younger brother died there, so that gives me a great sense of family still there. A part of me, will always be there, even though, I am sure in I would feel like that regardless. Even though his wife, had him cremated, with no visible resting ground, his spirit is there, he loved the place. He felt, at the time, it was the closest he would get to Africa. A land he saw with many similarities of colours, temperature, and soul. Everything except the animals, I think. In a way, he now belongs to the greater energy of the land I head for.

               Alice Springs, not pretty, but friendly, with some good hotels.

          What a land it is, with its vast desert interior, housing the ancient Ayers Rock, and the lovely, characterful little town of Alice Springs. What a spiritual place I found it to be. The rest, as I said, is mostly coastal settlements. Strung around the circumference of that large, red land. Hot, and humid to the north, near Darwin, cooler, and more temperate climates to the South, near to the big towns of Adelaide, and Melbourne. Me, well, I got to know its heat first. When I went to Darwin, it's there I left my brother. I have visited all of the other major towns. Still, I prefer the country around the Gold Coast, a bit down from Darwin, on the coast. More like half way down that coast really. Many of the seafront places, are high rise apartments, very nice most of the are. Some with fanciful, almost Spanish looking outlines. Which, I suppose is the Moorish influence from Spain, which has somehow, left an impression on the Gold Coast.

          The Gold Coast is now known as the Theme Park capital of Australia. All major theme parks located somewhere between the coast, and Brisbane city. There is so much more to the coast than that though. Of course, there are parks, waterways, and in the hinterland sits magic mountain, and some sweet little tourists towns. How could you not want to visit the zoo too, everyone wants to see the kangaroos, crocodile and the koalas. The kangaroos are so tame, you can pet them, as they sprawl on the ground. The birds, and the trees are as colorful as the coastline is magnificent. With its unusual skyline of buildings, andwhite sands, miles of it. It's buildings are futuristic, with walks, and cycle paths, set in the shade, beside the sea. I always think real planning has gone into making facilities for the peopl. Wide walkways, cycle paths, shade, and seating stretch for miles. I feel they look after their people, far better than many countries I have seen. Of course, being mineral rich must help afford such luxuries.

            As a place to visit, you can not go wrong. I would be there again, tomorrow, if I could. It's beautiful, it's comfortable, the people are friendly, and the sun shines most of the time.

            My words here, barely touch the surface, to what Australia offers you, the Gold Coast in particular, but there is so much more, every town with its own character. Go, and experience some of it for yourself. I know you will not be sorry. One visit is never enough.

                 Sidney, each town has it's own character. Each one fascinating.

              So many places to explore, visiting is never enough. Not for me, anyway......

Auckland, New Zealand

New Zealand.

       Is a country about the size of the UK but with only a fraction of the people. This makes it a country for those who like space, for themselves. In their homes, and the land around them. It's roughly the shape of Italy, but the other way up. The boot, and the foot, you know. The coastline is truly magnificent. Composed of endless bays, and white sandy beaches. With an assortment of cliff hights, from high, and rugged, to flat, and grassy. There are bays for every taste. Shallow, and quiet, deep shelving, and rough, flat, and calm, surf beaches, boaty beaches, all.....are walking beaches. A joy to amble along by the side of the sea, or in the sea. Many beaches, backed by sand dunes, most now protected to stop further erosion. It's a beautiful country, that deserves looking after.

       It can be quite an incestuous country, in that you are never far form someone you know. It's never surprising to see friends walk by, or meet people who know the same people as you. Many miles away from home. Twenty years ago, everyone knew almost everyone else, or perhaps just coming out of that a little now. I think they say each person is only three places removed, from everyone else. Of course that's before the latest influx of Asian immigrants. They seem to like it here a great deal. As they should, as the kiwis are an affable race, and the country has something for everyone.

      There are the bay of islands to the North,  a truly beautiful  attraction. Then, the ski fields of Queenstown to the south. With about everything in between. Walks, of every description, and for those more adventurous types, New Zealand has become the adventure capital. Bungy jumps, para gliding, heli skiing, jet boats, even a dive from sky tower in Auckland.

       The Moiri culture, is a great part of the history of the country, of course. They were the earliest of the immigrants too, like the later settlers. They are essentially polynesian. Having headed out to sea, and discovered New Zealand, and it's original indigenous peoples.  Which, according to history, did not long survive the influx of a new people. They are not like the Aborigine of Australia, who really have been there for four million, or more years. The first settlers, for sure. Their culture is alive, and well at a family level in the ..., and as a tourist attraction. The songs, inspiring, or sometimes frightening, like the Hakka. The dances, and song tunes mostly of Polynesian extraction. These roots go deep, and mix now, with the culture of the later European migrants.

           Even in town here, as I sit in Auckland, you have the old and beautiful churches, mixed with the new apartment buildings, and the needle like sky tower casino. Which is much more than that. It is a hotel, a meeting place, a collection of cafes, bars, and restaurants, and shows. The streets are planted with avenues of pale green, lacy trees, set against the cream, stonework of the older buildings. The pavements are wide in most places, and the shops colourful. If you walk down to the harbour, where you can catch boats to Waiheke island, Devonport, or even whale watching. As a culture, it remains quite laid back, interesting even for its mangled vowels. The whole town sits on sevn volcanos. None of which are active, we hope. All the streets though, are at a steep angle. Hardly anything is on the flat. Good for getting fit, or keeping fit.

           If you are a film buff, you will have seen the Peter Jackson films of the Hobbit, and The Lord  of the Rings, there the wonderful photography of the what they call Middle Earth, will show you something of the magic of the countryside in New Zealand.

          If you have not already done so, you need to visit, you will never forget it, or regret it.

        
+Fisherman Foundation and all fishermen. This is the country for fishing.

+tramping tracks walking tracks 
+Moiri culture 

Why?

             Why another blog. Why this blog. Well, it's because everyone sees the world differently, I thought it might be interesting to speak of some of the things I see. Either as I travel, or as I move through my life. I am an artist, and a writer. In a past life I was teacher, coach, mother and world citizen. I have lived in many countries over the years, I intend to continue doing just that. I look forward to the fact, that every place has such unique people, and situations for me to discover. Each has its own beauty. I don't look for the problems, only how to enjoy what's there. How to fit in, I suppose. Or, maybe, to slip through without disrupting things too much.
             Moving, whether temporary, or permanent is a big part of who I am. I have had so many homes, and left so many homes, that the process does not daunt me at all. I know if you lose everything, it's only stuff. It, or something equally as good, or better, will replace it. Much of this stuff holds you down, you stay as you are, where you are out of fear, or because it's too difficult to know what to do about your stuff. How crazy is that? Letting inanimate objects decide your future. You can't do it can you. O.K. I confess, I can't do it.
             I know what you're saying, what if a person is happy where they are. What if they don't like to move? I say, that's great. Do what makes you happy, do what suits you. I try to do just that, within reason. We all have someone in our lives, partners, family, friends, workmates, or neighbours. Some of these must be considered when making your decisions. You cannot live in a vacuum. Somehow, for me, it's always easy. Or perhaps it's all to do with attitude. I find, that what you need will find you. I also know that every new place, has at least one special person who will become your good friend. The great thing is, you don't have to lose any of your old friends. They are all still there. At the end of the phone, or Internet connection, or plane ride. Picking up with an old friend, is great. It's as if you have never been away. Regardless if it's one week, one year, or one decade. Isn't that neat!
              This blog, I hope will say something of interest to you, if you don't agree that's fine. If you're bored, then that's not. I must do better. I am looking forward to sharing with you, where I am, what I am seeing, and what I think about it.
               Welcome to this journey, I am excited. I hope that you are too.