Amsterdam!

Amsterdam!

Amsterdam in late June feels like one of the top ten visits in the world, especially when you are trying to get into Anne Frank Huis which has an abominably long queue from early in the morning to late in the evening. My advice is book a ticket online and then you just breeze straight in like the queen of the Netherlands while the rest of the plebs are waiting for hours, no fun in the current 30 degree temperatures. If you absolutely have to wait in the queue then write that novel you always wanted to, or start a business, or take a mobile picnic. It's that bad! Don't let the 'museum god' steal your valuable time. In the end after sailing past by bike or on foot and seeing such an interminable line I gave up, it takes too much precious time out of four days. Far better to spend you time walking up and down Prinsengracht, posing in the shades, and enjoying the canal views between stopping at some bar or cafe for a cool drink.

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Amsterdam is what you expect in beauty but certainly to me much bigger in scale than I thought. I think I was expecting more of a cosy intimate canal filled quadrant with tram-packed squares and lots of bikes hurtling around. You get this but on a much bigger and more majestic level. This hits you when you get to the Museumplein when arriving on the bus from Uthoorn as I did. You are suddenly confronted with this vast recreational space surrounded by splendid architecture, but particularly the huge, decorative and monumental Rijsmuseum towering at the North East corner. Beyond this you enter the old city centrum with concentric rings of canals radiating further and further out from the central station, each canal crowned with innumerable bridges and lined with trees and spotlessly clean old apartment buildings.

You could be forgiven just going to Amsterdam to see the Central Station as it is an impressive piece of architecture in its own right, with a long clean frontage looking out onto a large plaza and then the canals beyond. It is reminiscent of Venice where you arrive at the main station and almost fall into the first canal. You can leave your baggage at the station for the day, 7 euro for a smaller bag which I had, and also buy tram, bus and train tickets at the machines. The locals use a card onto which they load credit for buses and trams. The lady I stayed with lent me her card for three days which cuts the costs compared with individual bus tickets for each journey. You can also catch a train from Central Station to the airport for seven euro, a quick fifteen minute journey to catch your flight home. Incidentally, Schipol is a useful hub airport and it may be worth considering as a stopover for longer flights as you might get a cheaper deal than flying direct from the UK.

 Central station

As you leave the main rail station just to the left in front of you is a cafe/restaurant with adjoining comprehensive and well staffed tourist office. Here there is lots of information and leaflets/guides to take away. The Amsterdam card is well advertised, a one (€49), two (€59) or three (€69) day pass for public transport with free entrance to many museums and discounts on other attractions and food and drink. It does not include the Anne Frank Huis but this is not particularly expensive at about nine euro.

On the first day, a Sunday for me, I proceeded from the main rail station down the main drag, Damrak, in a south westerly direction, admiring the Beur van Berlage, an impressive and huge classical building built as a commodity exchange. It's not long before you get to Dam, a large square and the hub of the old city where lots of people congregate to chill and a temporary beach volleyball arena has been set up. Unfortunately you had to pay to get in and it was sold out for the day, you got no more than a glimpse of the players through the odd chink in the stands.

I made the regular trip Uthoorn into Amsterdam by bus which took about 50 minutes. This is fine on a four day trip as I was doing but if you are rushed you might need to stay nearer the centre. For me I was way out to the south west in the environs of Amsterdam but I could walk to the local shopping centre, have breakfast at a cafe and then leap on the bus. The buses have a good wifi connection as well. It's a straightforward run in, first through peaceful fairly modern residential areas interspersed with stretches of farmland, then you get into the real edges of the main city. Here you stumble onto large modern industrial buildings/offices, then you hit the Olympic stadium on the left hand side. After this the urban scenery becomes a lot more interesting with shaded avenues of city apartments until you get to the museumplein and then you know you've hit the centre.

The architecture in central Amsterdam is of course pricelessly ancient and attractive, but made curiously up to date by the obvious level of maintenance and cleanliness, amplified by the tiny bricks they use in Holland which seem to be everywhere, from the Olympic stadium built in 1928 to the medieval centre. It does not seem to matter that the chaps who built those older canal side houses must have been on the beer and forgotten to use the plumbline, as so many walls seem to ascend askew as if straight out of a Hansel and Gretal fairy tale. Lots of tall narrow looking houses gabled or otherwise, flower boxes bursting out of their midriffs, and all different in style from their neighbour. All adds to the charm!



You could wander happily around the central areas of Amsterdam for days and still find a new canal or riverside walk, such is the length and choice of waterway to discover. Of course the option of a drug fuelled bender is always there, I innocently walked into a cafe for a cup of coffee and was slightly taken aback by the dodgy substance menu. They must have thought I was another mad Englishman when I didn't go for a peace pipe or reefer!

Rent a bike is the way to go, such a cliche but Holland in my experience is the land of bikes. I rented a bike from Amstel Bike for 26 euro for 48 hours and they did not mind me locking it up in the city overnight while I retired to my accommodation in the suburbs. A group of five gets one bike rental free. I have never seen so many bikes in my life whether chained to railings or flying along the comprehensive network of dedicated bike lanes which cover every square of the city. Then there is the variety, from every type of standard metal steed to tandems, ones with boxes big or small to put all manner of stuff in including small children, and two wheeled low slung affairs where the person almost sits on the ground with his legs thrown out before him. Something you don't see in England is two people on a one man bike with partners sitting on the back, and in one case a young beauty being pedalled along by an ageing relative! Now that's what I call equality!





There are white cycling signs with red writing everywhere giving directions to your destination, although sometimes the destination seems to 'disappear' for a while which happened to me cycling back into Amsterdam from the south east, and I found myself in a predominantly black area in the Amsterdam suburbs sailing through Nelson Mandela park (you get the vibe) with the only signs to Amsterdam port. Where was the sign to Amsterdam city? Eventually I hit the trail again.

On the second day I took a trip by bike out to the south east of Amsterdam to canal and windmill land. This is a welcome change from the city and great exercise as well. Starting from the centre take the route out towards Muiden following the white and red signs. You have to take a right turn off the main route later in the vicinity of Weesp, and this may necessitate taking a detailed cycling map, so make sure you pick one up from the shop when you start, although they didn't provide one for me. Despite not having a detailed map I did have a leaflet from the tourist office with a basic map, and managed to strike south off the main road to hit the rural heartlands.

Lunchtime idyll!

I knew I had passed from city business to rural bliss when I discovered a small hamlet on a canal where I found a waterside cafe/bar with a blazing sun overhead. Here I asked for a small beer and the waitress produced literally the smallest beer glass I have ever been offered. I like that Dutch sense of humour. The waitress suggested I order the kroket, a Dutch dish consisting of potato croquettes filled with pieces of meat, accompanied by bread and garnished with salad. Pretty delicious. When I enquired as to my route, the waitress sent over a mature gentleman who advised me to catch the little ferry just a few yards down the road to enter proper countryside. Far better than keeping to the main road. He should know. He told me he was brought up here and cycled miles from where he lived to places like Utrecht for school, and I do mean miles. Imagine that in the winter with the wind against you on these washboard flat wetlands. He was so helpful I offered him a drink, but he already had a glass of wine and a schedule.

So over I went with a little posse of cyclists and struck out for Loenen an de Vecht on this wonderful made for cyclist countryside, tracking the canals, passing the lazing cattle, and admiring the old mansions of the wealthy who built their bolt holes out of town on the canal side. In the brochure its described as the Historical River Estates area. It's almost as if God said to himself, I know, I'll make Holland really flat and then a particular way the Dutch will enjoy my creation will be to invent these two wheel thingies and cycle all over.



Eventually I ended up in Breukelen, well on the way to Utrecht but a quaint little riverside town, to enjoy a coffee and apple pie and cream. What other reward after all that pedalling? I left it a little late to begin my return. It took a couple of hours to return to the city, which meant a hurried McDonald's before getting the bus back. I missed one bus because the driver would not allow me to take food on board. Take note!

Rich house!

Do take care on your bike. In Amsterdam you need constant alertness due to huge numbers of bikes and mopeds as well as cars and vans crossing your path continually, as well as getting used to the system of bike lanes. Keep an eye on the traffic lights for bikes with a picture of the bike illuminated in red. I cut a corner in

returning to Amsterdam and gave the wheel a real jolt, very amiss of me as I had to pay an extra ten euro for wheel repair on returning the bike. I still only paid about £30 for two days, not a bad rate.

The third day I ventured to Haarlem just 12 miles west of Amsterdam towards the sea. This took me about an hour and 10 minutes, an easy run as it tracks the main motorway and rail straight as an arrow. Haarlem is well worth a visit as it is like a mini Amsterdam with a lovely old town surrounded by the usual canals and centred on a super main square, dominated by a large cathedral church. It was a bit of a relief actually to get out of Amsterdam simply because there's far
less people per square metre in Haarlem and thus less to bump into.

But what I really came to see in Haarlem was the Corrie Ten Boom Huis and museum in the town centre. CorrieTen Boom was a survivor of the nazi concentration camp at Ravensbruck. Her family were clockmakers whose shop adjoined the house opened out onto a main street off the town square. 100 years previously the Ten Boom family committed themselves as Christians to praying for the Jewish people. They were fully involved in the local community, running clubs and societies, being hospitable and generally helping people. During the German occupation of Holland they resolved to help the Jewish people by hiding them from the Nazis and aiding them to travel on to safe houses. They had a 'hiding place' built in Corrie's bedroom by building a second inner wall of brick to conceal a space for people to hide from the authorities. They smuggled the bricks in by putting them in grandfather clocks coming in and out of the building. Can you believe it? Eventually they were betrayed and captured by the nazis, although the six people who were in the hiding place at the time all managed to get away. The guide said no records were kept of how many Jews passed through to safe houses, but it could have been up to the hundreds.

False wall

Corrie Ten Boom Huis

Haarlem centre

The tour of the house takes an hour with time for questions as well. The house itself looks remarkably modern and like other Dutch buildings must be a lot older than it looks. There are various books, mementoes and CDs/videos that can be bought. It's a free visit but donations are welcome and it seems that one should give at least euro 2.50. I arrived on a baking hot day at 1pm at the end of June, and there was a bit of a crowd waiting to get in, so I had to wait for the next tour at 3pm. Might be worth bearing in mind. But nothing like the Anne Frank queue and a tremendously worthwhile visit.

I did pop into the tourist office in Haarlem and was told that you can get the train quite easily to the beach at Zandvoort, the you can go back the other way to Amsterdam. It's only ten minutes from Haarlem or thirty minutes from Amsterdam!

In the evening I found a great Thai restaurant for a delicious spicy feast to offset the McDonald's experience of the previous night. It's not far down Haarlemerrstraat, just a few hundred yards from the rail station on the right hand side as you're heading west. Actually there are good few eateries to choose from on this street. If I return to Amsterdam I will go back here.

On the last day I said goodbye to my host, packed my bag and headed into the city. I left my gear at baggage in the main rail station, returned my bike and headed for the Rijsmuseum, that monster on the edge of the city centre that is a top ten attraction for Amsterdam. A ticket is €17.50, quite expensive, but you can wander to your hearts content until 5pm. You can also leave the building if you want and return later, a timely idea for me as there was some sort of carnival going on outside with outdoor swimming, kids activities, lots of food and drink stalls and suchlike. And there is a great app you can download straight onto your iPad where you just plug in your earphones and let the audio guide take you round. If you don't like reading millions of words that you'll forget in half an hour it's the way to go. Well worth it although avoid the restaurant as its a lethal tourist trap. Admittedly a very nice setting on a suspended floor in the very impressive museum atrium, but the prices will blow a hole in your bank account. I walked out, went outside and and bought a hot dog. Shame as I had to queue up to be ushered to a seat by an attractive young Dutch waitress.

The paintings are something else. I am not one for art galleries, but the Rembrandts and Vermeers are so colourful and rich, and some of them very big, that together with the apps explanations, become almost interesting to art philistines. This is where the app really comes into its own, as the audio guide tells you about the little symbolisms and parables buried in the artwork. Pictures such as the famous 'Nightwatch' by Rembrandt are full of local officials and dignitaries all crammed together in the same picture, but each one would have posed separately for their portrait, which is why the faces don't engage one another in some of the pictures. There is the famous 'Milkmaid' painting, of a serving maid pouring milk into a jug. Much is made of the beauty of this painting in the app, including the reality of the 'pouring milk.'

Riksmuseum snaps

There are lots of galleries of rich, clear and literal painting, large and small, many of an historical nature. I spent some time perusing the paintings of battles involving the Dutch fleet, some against the English of course, when Holland was a world power to be reckoned with. Incredible that these two tiny countries had such an influence on world history. There is a quite magnificent galleon in one of the galleries, of huge size and with incredible detail. Ideally the Riksmuseum needs a day, although I spent a comfortable afternoon there.

Schipol airport tip - make sure you pack carefully before you get to the airport. Unlike Gatwick for instance, and maybe other UK airports they do not provide an 'interface' area where you can pack your liquids into plastic bags. You go into departure and straight into the security line so need to have all your liquids prepackaged as it were. I was caught out and had to do all this on the spot at the conveyor belt, a bit of a pain.

Schipol it's very conveniently situated to the west of the city and pretty close to the city centre. Must have been easy to plan as in Holland presumably you can build an airport virtually anywhere as long as you guard against waterlogged foundations.

Regents canal

Cool dwelling

Regents canal, London

For something completely different take a canal walk through the centre of London. The Regents Canal runs for over nine miles from Paddington Basin in the west to Limehouse Basin in the east. We met up at Paddington station, one of the main London rail termini where you catch the train to the west country. It's a good place to load up with supplies as it has all the services needed including Marks and Spencer's and a Sainsburys to stock up on food.



If you take the right hand exit from the station as you face the platforms there is a bridge that takes you into the Paddington Basin, a shiny modern complex of offices and services bordering our start to the Regents Canal, and a bit of a sideshow at the beginning. We had a very informative guide who told us about two very modern small bridges in the vicinity, both of which straddle short stretches of canal. They are just as much for decorative purposes as they are to carry pedestrians, because one bridge rolls up into a hexagonal shape from a flat start when the right buttons are pressed, whilst the other splays up sections which fan out to give a Mohican effect. We were privileged enough to be given a personal demonstration by the very friendly staff. Officially demonstrations were given on a Friday but they did it for us on a Saturday. This part of the canal is all modern in its ambience, steel and glass constructions on the quay pointing to the sky, with one building designed to look like the bow of a ship.

Little Venice

The next section takes you the other way from Paddington towards Little Venice, and you can see why it is called this. It's a bit like some of the poshest property in London mixed in with the romance of a mature waterway. Here the property must be some of the most desirable in London because you have your palatial mansions blending in perfectly with barge laden waters. This is a bit of London I had never set eyes on and reminds you of the amazing variety London has to offer.

This sort of water based opulence continues all the way to Regent's Park, with beautiful architecture catching the eye all the way along, and the odd cafe suspended on a bridge over the canal. I have to say that if I was looking to live in London this area would be on my list. Years ago this canal would have been strictly for industrial purposes, transporting all manner of merchandise up and down the capital's arteries. Now of course it is a testimony to Britain's rich  industrial heritage, but given over primarily to leisure.

Regent's Park continues the theme, with attractive buildings rather more spaced out at this point. We took a diversion up to the top of Primrose Hill for lunch where many others had the same idea, eminently sensible as we sat and admired the view in front of us of the London Basin with the Shard, the Post Office Tower and the Gherkin all prominent on the skyline.

The canal is a great place to cycle along as well, and plenty of cyclists were trying to negotiate the Saturday afternoon strollers on the towpath. Basically however, Saturday is not a good day for cyclists to chance this journey due to the extreme preponderance of pedestrians.

A little further on and you get to Camden Lock which is like someone scooped up all the young people in London and tipped them into this tiny corner of the capital, another 'where it's at' kind of place. Spot the hipster anyone? We breezed through fairly quickly when everything cried out 'sit down and enjoy some refreshments.' You make your way along the shore past bundles of people consuming food and drink on an industrial scale. The lock is surrounded by a market, sheds, parked barges and overall an atmosphere of having a good time. Somewhere to return to without a doubt.

Camden Lock  Rocks!

The ambience changes when you get towards the St Pancras/Kings Cross stretch where the skyline become decidedly more commercial and industrial, old gasworks, railway architecture, workshops and desolate waste spaces. Here we are near one of the hubs of the European rail transport system, in the near distance you can see the roof of the new St Pancras, rising over the skyline like a silver hump backed dolphin. Eurostar trains with limitless numbers of carriages slide in and out of the terminus over the bridge above us, and a little further on we reach Kings Cross. This area always had a slightly sleazy reputation as a red light district and arrival point for kids running away from home, with all the attendant charities and church workers trying to minister to the jetsam and flotsam of human life. Now there is a major effort to renew the whole area with shiny new squares and glass and steel high rises. The old Kings Cross goods shed is being turned into a Waitrose plus ancillary activities, the Granary building, an old industrial warehouse turned into university building presides over London's newest square with chIldren bathing in the waters of the fountains and new cafes springing up like flowers in the desert. In the midst of modernity is the abandoned underground station of York Rd with its classic old station frontage, and there has been talk of reopening it to relieve congestion at Kings Cross especially with the new development. Specially built viewing platforms provide the opportunity to check out the new development.

New King's Cross

Swimming pool as well!

Going on from Kings Cross you get the same lazy ambience all the way to Limehouse Basin where you are in Canary Wharf territory. However, it's a fair hike still from the rail hub. The section of canal this side of the city lacks some of the glamour associated with little Venice or Camden Lock but people still sit beside the water eating and drinking at various bars, or sit on the top of barges with a beer can or glass of
wine.

The canal passes through Islington where it disappears into a canal tunnel. This is where I lost it like a dog slipping its lead. Thus I had the opportunity to wander throughout the centre of Islington, a new experience for me and a chance to adjust any stereotypes of the political elite indulging in endless dinner parties in leafy Georgian terraces. Perhaps the demise of New Labour has done for some of those parties. There were certainly traces of wealth, with fine looking streets of old terraced houses, but Islington town centre does not seem anything out of the ordinary, just a typical well established suburban centre the type of which you would find all over London.

Meanwhile I am totally lost, where has this wretched canal gone, can't find it anywhere? Has it disappeared into some CS Lewis fantasy land full of pipe smoking jolly barge men in waistcoats and eternal sun playing on dappled waters ruled over by an Aslan like creature full of benevolence and goodwill? I follow the instructions of my iPad and it leads me this way and that, until finally I manage to rediscover this watery artery after a considerable detour. During that detour I find a massive spur coming off the main route, surrounded by prestigious new development. Back on track, I follow the towpath onwards past worn old industrial architecture and new builds, under ancient bridges and through old locks, dodging the usual bevy of cyclists. The canal runs past Victoria Park (Vicky Park or the People's Park) for some way, which adds a somewhat leafy feel again, although we are in the London borough of Tower Hamlets. This park is considered by some as the finest park in the East End, for that is where we are. Originally this park was an essential service for the East End working classes. In the past it has also been the centre for all sorts of political meetings and rallies, attracting socialist speakers like William Morris. It must be some park, as it was awarded second place in a national award for the public's favourite Green Flag Awarded park.

Victoria Park

Furrowing on, the glass, steel and concrete of Canary Wharf increasingly loom ahead indicating we will soon be at the end. So we arrive at Limehouse Basin,  once at the heart of London's industrial port superstructure but now looking more like a marina dedicated to boating pleasures. Here you can catch the Docklands Light Railway (DLR) back into town and the Bank underground station.

End of the voyage - Limehouse Basin

The DLR s a lot more interesting than the underground as it is overground and gives some good vistas of the East London skyline. Just a little tip at this point. When you get off at Bank underground station there is an endless network of tunnels linking different lines, and also the toilets were shut on a Sunday evening which was slightly uncomfortable since I spent an appreciable time discovering the delights of the tunnel network only to find them closed. Funnily enough, in a 2013 poll Londoners rated Bank tube station, one of London's busiest, as the worst on the network!

Still, we must not finish on a negative. A nine mile watery walk through the centre of London laced with copious amounts of food and drink is a totally cool way to spend a day.

Now that's some back garden! (Cliveden parterre)

Cliveden

Cliveden House is located in a gilded stretch of countryside in Buckinghamshire, about half an hour from Windsor and north of the M4. It has a past laced with glamour, intrigue and famous people from Winston Churchill to Rudyard Kipling, so that should be enough to lure you in from the leafy surrounding lanes. 

I was fortunate enough to visit on a beautiful June day when a gorgeous slice of the Home Counties looks its peerless best. This area is plump like a well stocked salmon fishery with tokens of opulence like open top sports cars, green and brown astro turfed tennis courts, and glimpses of irresistible property. So, unless you are driving a white Jaguar and are dressed in red corduroys and sporting a big quiff just don't bother to come!    

Driving into the grounds through the main entrance with its cannon ball stones to either side you feel like an aristocrat entering their lair, but then you realise that there are a thousand other cars like yours doing exactly the same thing. I'm just another peasant! The driveway winds through extensive grounds and there was some sort of checkpoint where cars were both parked and were stopping. Some cars were carrying on and I decided to follow. The NT official at the hut waved me on (obviously knew I was aristocratic stock) and I carried on up to the main car park adjacent to where it all happens. 

Cliveden is a big site, one of the biggest I have visited, with cafes and toilet facilities scattered over a large area between gardens and house, so if you miss one refreshment stop, there's another not too far away. Where you park up it's a short walk to the outbuildings and an information kiosk where you get your map and ask if you can go on a tour of the big house, which you can do on a timed basis.  Mine was for 4pm. Meanwhile around here are gardens and a cafe to keep you occupied. Also in this area is a cinema, Gas Yard, maze and Estate Office.

Go through the gate and you find yourself not far from the Fountain of Love at the end of the main driveway to Cliveden House. Again, unless you are driving a Jag or a Bentley, with a lady in a light head scarf and shades alongside you, up the straight gravelled drive to the main house you are not doing it properly. You feel naked standing on your two pins in a pair of jeans wallowing in all this opulence. The word 'grand' comes to mind when you espy the house in the distance. The fountain is just too big and decorative, the driveway too long and wide, the house too much of a magnificent pile in the middle distance to be called anything other than.

The Fountain of Love - spot the Lamborghini!

Only to be approached in an Aston Martin!

You couldn't make it up, but as I was standing there taking photos a white Lamborghini eased down the drive and stopped by the fountain to show off or whatever. The two doors opened gull like  upwards and outwards like a Thunderbirds super car and out stepped a tall and striking man of the world dressed like somebody important with attendant big hair and sunglasses. From the other side stepped, no, not a raging beauty of the Sophia Loren sort, but a short man who could be the head gardener. But of course he could be one of the world's richest men just dressing down for the day. Or could perhaps these two be checking out the locale for the next Bilderberger conference? Who knows? 

I couldn't be bothered to quiz them or hang around for a photo op so headed towards the nearest garden off to the right to check the hinterland and move towards the Thames which is deliciously near. Up through the Long Garden with its topiary and sculpture puts you in 'wandering aimlessly' mode, and then you reach the Blenheim Pavilion built to commemorate the battle of Blenheim, a smallish white colonnaded structure, which sits just outside the Long Garden high above the Thames and sort of provides the main introduction to the less perfectly gardened outlying grounds.  

Have you seen my Long Garden?

From here the grounds fall away steeply and extensively towards the Thames. Not far away is a grass amphitheatre on the slopes surrounded by vegetation, apparently a spot where the great and the good entertained themselves with various performances, including the first rendering of Rule Brittania when the estate was leased to Frederick, Prince of Wales. This area is all rich woodland falling down to the Thames which is tantalisingly invisible due to the foliage apart from glimpses of the water. If you follow the path parallel to the Thames far below you get to a felled oak (Canning's oak), a plum spot where Lord Canning, Britain's shortest serving prime minister (119 days in 1827), would sit here for ages and contemplate the view. He often visited as a friend of Sir George Warrender. And it is some view, down to the Thames glittering below and running alongside the wooded slopes, then on the other side, a scrumpled duvet of green countryside stretching away into the distance. A great place to contemplate the affairs of State, and this spot, now so accessible from London, would have been an age from the capital in those days. Just over the Thames is the village of Cookham, reported by the Daily Telegraph in 2011 as the 2nd richest village in Britain. Well who cares! But you get the vibe.

Cliveden view

You can make your way back up the slopes to the house at this point, which I did for the tour. In the apron out front of the house is the usual assortment of cars no doubt for house guests, as this is now a top hotel. Here you can spot a massive Bentley lined up with an attention seeking number plate to go with it. 

It's only a short tour round part of the ground floor, but worthwhile nevertheless. We get a potted history of the place including the era when the American Astor family used it for lavish entertainment in the pre war years. Cliveden is known of course for the 'Cliveden Set,' a group of prominent upper class individuals who frequented the estate in the thirties, and for the Profumo affair which brought down the Macmillan government of the early 1960s. No doubt there have been some exaggerations around these topics, but you can't help thinking that there would be no better place than Cliveden for intrigue, bohemian behaviour, spy stories and illicit goings on. We were informed about the usual such as the paintings, key characters in Cliveden history and the various setbacks that have afflicted the estate, including not one but two fires finishing off a previous house. The present house was designed by Charles Barry, who incidentally was the architect of that small London building, the Houses of Parliament, as well as St. Peter's church in Brighton.

Cliveden terrace

Pity about the scaffolding

Cliveden is definitely up there with the grand houses of the UK with its large size and extensive grounds, but what gives it a bit of an edge in the competition stakes is what's on the other side of the long drive up to the entrance. Blenheim Palace might be the daddy of all UK stately homes, and Knole might have a great deer park, but Cliveden can shake her apron skirts and unfold her crown and joy, the peerless parterre rolling out of the back of the property. A parterre is a formal garden constructed on a level surface if you want to know, and the one at Cliveden is one of the largest in Britain and covers an area of four acres, filled with 30,000 bulbs and plants in the spring and summer. It really hits the eye as you peruse it from the grand terrace at the back of the house. Not only huge and beautiful, it's the setting with grand open vistas of countryside and the Thames twinkling down below in the distance that really hits you. Quite magnificent! If anything typifies Cliveden it's this view, it cannot be missed.

What do you think of my parterre?

Take a stroll around the parterre to discover one or two more delights. There is the chapel to the right hand side, a little construction suspended above the Thames with accompanying balcony for photos. Sadly I was too late to step inside, all locked up! Normally entry is free and no tickets are required.

Make your way around the outside of the parterre and take a few more snaps of the great house and it's terrace, and you can take a break at the Orangery cafe just to the north east of the main house. This has two cafes in one, a smaller snack bar and a bigger sit down affair. By the time you have downed your toffee and fudge cake it may be time to vacate the premises for a half five close.

THE SOUTH DOWNS NATIONAL PARK

South Downs national park - Arundel

Pick a gorgeous early summer day and take yourself off to Arundel to explore the verdant green rolling downs surrounding the town. Arundel itself is a great place to wander around if you just want to gorge on cream teas, antique shops, a trip around the second biggest castle in England and perhaps round off the day at an Indian restaurant or a Pizza Express. Otherwise Arundel is tagged onto a massive park that blankets over the top of the Downs and has its very own folly, lake and network of public walkways. If you head into Arundel from the A27 from Brighton, over the bridge and immediately turn right, you head down a tree-lined gladed avenue until you reach Swanbourne lake on the left. This is like a leftover from the Victorian age with its ancient cafe building and duck filled lake. You can take the safe option, sit on the benches and have a picnic, otherwise you can explore a wonderful sweep of down and woodland that switchbacks right over to the northern scarp edge of the South Downs and yields wide open vistas of the Weald of Sussex to the north.

So how would you proceed? Take the path up the east side of Swanbourne lake into a comfy green valley with Box Copse on the right. An interesting aside here is that if you look up far to your left you see a brick folly peeping over the top of the hill from its green resting place. This my friends is Hiorne Tower, used as a location for a Dr Who film involving the cybermen. Alas, I spotted none myself! After this stretch bear right and up through Dukes plantation, Firm plantation and Dry Lodge plantation, all open downland towards the northern end of Arundel Park. With woodland to your right and left, the whole of West Sussex jumps into your face as you creep over the lip of the downs and the scarp slope drops away below you. Scrumptious ramblers feast!

Then you take the clear path down towards the River Arun, sometimes out in the open with tantalising photo opportunities of the Arun valley, sometimes hidden in the woods, until you hit the winding bends of the river. Then you trace its course until we reach the village of Houghton. There is not a lot of Houghton, it must literally be one of the teensiest weeniest little settlements in England easily scooped up in the hands of a giant. But here is the George and Dragon pub, supposedly a stop off point of Charles 1's son on his escape to France in 1651 after his defeat by Cromwell at the battle of Worcester. The Monarchs Way long distance footpath from Worcester to Shoreham-by-Sea is supposed to trace his footsteps.

Here you stumble onto the main road that drops down to Amberley just a few hundred metres further on. Be careful walking down here as there is a distinct absence of pedestrian walkway. Over the old stone bridge and you are there, a little piece of old England all on its tiddly own. Here there is the Bridge pub,a restaurant and a perfect cafe with indoor and outdoor seating, although outdoors wins my vote as the tables sit on the edge of the River Arun. With the ancient bridge, the bucolic meadows bordering the river meanders, and the South Downs rising up on the horizon, it's just like sitting in your own limitless back garden with your cream tea and scones.

Strike south from here towards the tiny village of North Stoke. All the villages are tiny round here! Take the side road from the Bridge pub alongside the rail line which heads towards Arundel. This peaceful,tree lined avenue heads straight ahead with water meadows stretching out towards the downs on the right. Soon the road winds up to the right into North Stoke which consists of barely more than a street of cottages hitting a dead end with a tiny church and farm. You can take a detour to check out the church, but otherwise clock the red telephone box, another bit of old England, and just to the left another path heads out towards South Stoke. You have to negotiate a field which is often inhabited by frisky cows that even if congregated far away in one corner start moving ominously towards you as you stride out across the field. Could make a man nervous, but if they get too close stare them down and make a bit of noise! Next stop the bridge built by the Gurkhas a few years ago across the pond/stream that borders the woodland, which then has to be negotiated by a winding path that takes us through to the river Arun at South Stoke.

Here you cross a bridge into the village and with the church and cottages on your left (all classic England around here) follow the lane round until you see a bridleway going off to the left. This takes you on a fairly long straight route through the fields rather than following the very narrow road along the side of the scarp slope. Eventually the path takes a climb up onto the lane later after a very easy walk on the flat. Take a left turn on the lane then immediately right down a cutting through the downs to the Black Rabbit pub. 

The Black Rabbit is the sort of pub you dream of visiting in a dream about the most idyllic English countryside pub visit possible. Snug up against the River Arun, the long low construction of this watering hole contains ample beer swilling room and tables for a tasty pub lunch. Outside across the road are multitudes of outdoor tables and benches crammed against the river bank where you can while away the hours contemplating the cow filled meadows across the river and admiring the gentle slopes of the Downs in the middle distance, whilst an occasional distant southern region train whips past on its way to Arundel and reminds you that we are in the twenty first century and cannot remain in 'smock wearing ale swilling peasant' mode. When you've had your fill of rural bliss a trundle down the country lane towards Arundel castle returns you to your car at Swanbourne lake. 

You really could not spend a day in any better way.

Lisbon

It's the day after Easter Monday 2015. Some people might ask is it worth leaving the UK this week as the temperature is rising in South East England. Blue sky has burst though a rather grey early spring and daffodils are exploding all over the place. However, we have winged out of Gatwick, passed Southampton and the Isle of Wight to our left, and swept down over the Bay of Biscay to England's oldest ally, Portugal, to be charmed by Lisbon for a few days. At least the weather promises to be as warm as in Blighty.

Lisbon has a pretty cool setting like many popular European destinations. It lies on the north bank of the estuary of the river Tagus which stretches out to the sea to the west. The city centre is bang on the waterfront, a great flat area including the main square in the middle, with the main drags arrowing straight down from there to the sea. On either side the coastal hills rise up quite steeply providing some interesting furrows for the trams.

First day we caught the metro downtown, 1.40 euro per journey to Rossio Square, or Pedro IV Square, a massive square which seems like the spiritual heart of the metropolis. We just caught the opening of a tourist information kiosk and bought tickets for the red tram tour of the city (19 euro each), which does a very rough figure of eight type route out to the east and west of the centre. Best place to start this tour is the waterfront where you are more guaranteed a seat. Earlier we waited where the kiosk lady said in the city centre and could not get on the tram because it was full up. So we set off down to the Praca do Comercio, a huge plaza opening out onto the waterfront, bounded on three sides by elegant buildings and with a statue set plum in the middle like a bright cherry stuck in the middle of a cake. I think I must have attracted the local riffraff because it wasn't long before a young fellow came up offering me drugs for sale. Was it the bright yellow cycling jacket and grey trilby I was wearing that made him think I was some sort of louche bohemian! I was also accosted right on the waterfront by a rather persistent seller. You'll be glad to know I declined!

Anyway, back to the tram. So off you go from here up the winding streets to the Castelo de S Jorge, a Moorish stronghold overlooking the city centre to the east. Here you can wander the ramparts and admire the pastel and terracotta sea of buildings spread before you down to the river with its 25th April suspension bridge striding the estuary in the left middle distance. You can wander the outer courts to your hearts content, but should venture into the stronghold itself, still a well preserved hulk of a fortification but without much innards to see. The primary task is to circumvent the battlements and admire further slightly more elevated views of the city and the various turrets and crenellations of the walls. There is an exhibition as well in a building in the outer courtyards where you can admire pottery pieces, coinage and suchlike from previous ages before being disgorged into the shop. Entrance to the Castelo is €8.50. I remember being up here in 1997 but that was in blazing August. Now the weather is somewhat typical April, that is it's known for rain in Lisbon, and we had to wear our wet gear as we admired the view out over the city skyline.

The red tram takes a circular route (circular in a very loose sense) back down into the city centre and then up the other side to the Basilica Estrela, an impressive church building with a massive dome. Going on the red tram in Lisbon is a bit like travelling on a roller coaster for very old people over 150 years of age, there are lots of ups and downs but at incredibly slow speeds, especially when a lorry or van blocks the tracks to do a delivery or the traffic lights come into play. Lisbon bears a light resemblance to San Fransisco in this sense, lots of hills around a luminescent waterfront. The Basilica itself is worth a visit even for the climb up the circular staircase to the roof (3 euro) where you get great views all round and lots of photo opportunities. We declined to go inside as there was a service going on and I was required to remove my trilby and not to take pictures which provided little encouragement to hang around inside.

Take care with the metro in Lisbon or you might get stuck at the ticket machine for the afternoon. As I say a one trip ticket costs 1.40 euro, and then you can load extra journeys onto the same card by inserting it into a machine after use and adding however many extra journeys you may desire. Getting a ticket in Lisbon for the metro or train requires superhuman levels of patience. Unless you know the code to those ticket machines you could be doomed to going round in circles trying to find the secret formula that produces a fully functioning ticket short of assaulting the machine after losing the will to live. The basic idea is that you buy one ticket and then you can 'load' it with other journeys by reinserting the card at a later time. And you certainly cannot load more than one person on the same ticket and pass the ticket back over the barrier for them to use. One of our gang repeatedly tried to load their ticket on the machine but was repeatedly rebuffed. They may have been forgiven for beating the machine in John Cleese frustration mode with a large piece of foliage, but a nice young Lisbon man eventually helped. After an age he was able to inform our friend that the card was faulty, possibly because he had been sitting on it all day. The alternative of course is getting a Lisbon Card for one, two or three days which gives unlimited travel on the buses, trams and trains, as well as discounts on museum entries. The cheapest is 18.50 euro for one day which you may consider too expensive. Will I make that many journeys?

On the first night having landed safely we ventured out from the hotel and found a splendid place to eat. Restaurant Cervejaria is a humdinger of a restaurant on Avenida Roma north of the city centre in the district of Areeiro, a small but perfectly formed (in a culinary sense) eatery. We feasted on seafood heaven here two nights running with a mixture of sea bass, sea bream, cod and paella Portuguese style for 77 euro and 88 euro per night for three grown men. That included starters, sweets, three bottles of wine, beer and coffees. You could do a lot worse.  We actually ate at a Portuguese restaurant on the main thoroughfare into town on the last night but although the most expensive meal, I enjoyed it the least, basically steak, chips and spinach, a sort of watered down version of a Popeye meal. I suspect it upset my stomach as well.

How about renting a bike for a day from the waterfront, 20 euro for a city bike to be bought back at 6.30pm? We rented three bikes and set off along the riverfront west towards Belem, a hub of activity, beautiful architecture, waterfront eateries and generally cool place to hang out. You can stay off road for virtually the whole distance to Belem, more or less hugging the waterfront along the cycle lane laid out for you. The route takes you past all the port infrastructure and under the famous Lisbon bridge, the 25th April suspension bridge, a monster that takes trains on a lower level and cars on the top level. At one and a half miles long it is one of the world's big suspension bridges, and it's reddish orange colour makes it look like the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. Then you carry on past ranks of seafront restaurants and cafes until you get to Belem. The waterfront heads straight to the west and the Atlantic Ocean, in these parts interspersed with little yachting marinas and leisure facilities.



The Monument to the Discoveries rises up from the promenade like a massive funnel on a giant ocean liner. It has serried ranks of enormous statues carved into its sides commemorating Portugal's relationship to the sea and it's great adventurers of old like Vasco de Gama and Henry the Navigator, names from long forgotten schooldays. For 4 euro you can take the lift to the very narrow walkway on top and stand and admire the view in all directions. It feels higher than you think and pretty scary to look over the edge. There was a party of Americans up there talking about homing devices to the nearest ice cream parlours which seemed a pretty American thing to be talking about. Not long afterwards I found myself at such a parlour down below gorging on a large chocolate ice cream.



A bit further on you get to Belem Tower, a fortified tower dating from 1515. My friend wondered if it was fake, a 20th century folly made to look like an ancient listed buildings, but it is the real deal! Just past the Belem Tower is the military museum, splendidly named the Museo do Combatente, with a couple of sentry boxes and a troop of three strutting their stuff into the barracks. 4 euro gets you into the museum which is actually quite interesting. It's set in a fort type structure (the Forte de Bom Sucesso) overlooking the estuary and has various pieces of military hardware scattered over the ramparts, including the front bit of a plane. There is an interesting indoor exhibition detailing the history of the Portuguese Empire scattered around the world in Mozambique, Angola, Tome, Guinea, Timo, Goa and so forth. It seems from a quick reading of the history that Portugal wanted to hang onto her colonies and make them into a kind of greater Portugal with lots of different races mixed together as equally Portuguese. But this meant the usual rebellions and backlashes. Perhaps Great Britain was wise to slip away from her colonies and leave them to self government rather than coerce native peoples. Amazing, Portugal, another tiny country with a big empire, just like Britain.

A good tip for the UK with regard to cyclists. The underpass for the seriously busy seafront road has a narrow steel track following the stairs both down and up which you can hook your bike wheel into to save carrying the thing. I recall a similar thing for luggage in Freiberg rail station, Germany.

I think we had had had enough of museums by the time we had cycled back into Belem, so instead of visiting the Navy museum, the Marine museum, the Archeology Museum and the planetarium we made do with the Botanic gardens, the Jardim Botanico Tropical (€2 entrance) a lush oasis of palm trees, hibiscus, flowers and lake to sooth the soul. By this time the sun was out and we were down to tee shirts with a couple of layers hanging round waists. By the time we had cycled back into the centre of the city the punters were pouring onto the waterfront and taking all available tables for a lazy beer in the sun, in our case there was a musician to entertain the locals.

The last day in Lisbon was spent going to Sintra, a nineteenth century watering hole that would have been beloved by the rich and famous. It lies high up above the coastal plain and has its own microclimate. That means it could be sweltering in the heart of Lisbon but misty and fog bound on the summit of Sintra. So if you go be prepared perhaps with a light sweater. Sintra is the sort of place that you feel has had its glory days and is now a vast tourist playground, and it would only really come into its own if there were people dressed up in top hats and carrying parasols. Oh, and the whole place could do with a lick of paint. Apart from that it's a great place to spend a day, with its over abundance of terracotta and pastel coloured architecture spread over the wooded hillsides and its fancy main square with the National Palace on the edge and a rather sumptuous cafe selling the usual tempting cake and coffee. It' s the sort of place where if you believe in conspiracy theories the Bilderbergers might choose for one of their jollies, using lots of tinted window limousines and police barriers to keep out the hoi polloi.

A bus takes a circular route from the rail station through the town centre and then up through a dizzying series of hairpin bends through the forest to the Pena Palace which is what we have all come to Sintra for, although we may not have known it! The palace and park are 14 euro for an adult and 7.50 euro just for the gardens. We just plumped for the gardens given the time we had before catching the plane. The gardens or park (national park?) are layered around the summit on which stands our palace and are ideal for an extensive walk. They give you a handy map at the entrance. And there are fantastic views out over towards Lisbon and away to the countryside.

How do you get there? Well you could take a tour costing 49 euro from Lisbon, or you could take a train from Rossio rail station in the heart of the city. For 4.80 euro you can buy a return ticket for a journey of about 40m. What a contrast of a journey! The train ploughs through endless soulless suburbs consisting of massive ranks of apartment blocks before just about getting rid of the urban blight as you enter Sintra amid a bit of green countryside. This is apparently one of the busiest stretches of suburban rail and road in Europe.

All told you could do a lot worse than take a city break in Lisbon.



A few money considerations:

Ticket open return Durrington to Gatwick airport - £21.50

Windsor

Why not spend the weekend in the Royal Borough of Windsor and Maidenhead and live like a royal. I am here on a luscious early spring day, the sun is shining and the days are getting longer. It's got to be one of the best times of the year, the temperature has suddenly shot up and it's shirt sleeves all round. I am at the Mama Mia Cafeteria right on the banks of the River Thames and it's early March but warm enough to sit outside. Nowhere better to enjoy omelette and chips for lunch. Just up the street behind are the walls of Windsor Castle.

If you're not familiar with the local geography, Windsor and Maidenhead is a borough of about 73000  inhabitants which sort of tags on to the shirtsleeves of the London metropolitan area. The town of Windsor itself has a population of over 31000 people. It is close enough to London to nip in for a shopping spree for the afternoon, but out in the country enough to feel very small town. It lies just west of the M25, the London orbital motorway that is a dream to drive around at off peak times, but a pain in the proverbials when trying to catch a daytime flight from Heathrow. An air of affluence virtually seeps out the ground if not through the walls in these parts. Windsor of course is very near the great airport itself, which should give goosebumps to some of you international flyers who want to see a real castle.

Coming off the M25 at junction 13 from the south east is a great way to enter the town, although you have to have your wits about you to get in the right lane, especially as Windsor is not that well signposted in these parts. Coming off the roundabout at the bottom of the M25 slip road the road to Windsor enters an altogether more placid and rural landscape, hugging the Thames as it flows through Runnymede, where King John signed the Magna Carta, the Great Charter, 800 years ago on June the 15th this year with the barons, and laid the foundation stone for English liberty. A lovely green valley rises up to the left into gentle hilltops surrounding that memorial to Magna Carta, a simple circle of domed classical columns (a monopteros) within walking distance of the main road. Carrying on up the main road you get to Old Windsor. Here the road 'bumps' into the Thames which at this point looks at its most idyllic with its rather prosperous looking real estate and classic parked barges cluttering the banks. On a nice day the scene is unbeatable. If you carry on through Old Windsor you get to another roundabout where you take a left turn onto a long straight stretch where you get your first glimpse of Windsor Castle off to the right which is quite a sight on a sunny day. The main road cuts through the Long Walk and then bends right towards the town centre.



Windsor shopping centre is a real indoor treat, the original shopping centre from 1897, all steel, glass and bricks and splayed out through the centre of the town, seamlessly merging into the more modern walking streets and out onto the main thoroughfare bordering the castle. Lots of space seems to be given over to the cafe culture, you are spoilt for choice whether you want to sit outdoors under the ancient atrium or inside. Inserted into the end of the shopping centre is the old railway station, Windsor and Eton Central, a little terminus that takes you out of the London metropolis from Paddington and right into the heart of this gem of a town centre (35m journey). Just shy of the end of the platform is an old steam locomotive to add to the museum feel of the place. Incidentally it's a fine route into the terminus by train as the track runs well above the surrounds giving a pleasing introductory panorama to the town. There is another station at Riverside not far from the Thames where you can catch a train to Waterloo. Incidentally, Riverside is the best place to park in Windsor town centre, the railway car park costs £4 for the whole day which is pretty jolly decent as the typical daily car park charge in these parts will cause your eyeballs to pop out on stalks. A running theme of the area are some astronomically high charges.

You have to do the castle of course, it's a bit on the expensive side at £19.20 for an adult but unmissable. It is after all, the oldest and largest occupied castle in the world, a real monster of a site, whose stonework looks solid and enduring enough to survive a nuclear explosion. It sits right in the middle of the town so you can step off the train, grab your lunch in the shopping centre and step out to the castle entrance. The castle commands a great view out towards Eton College, then on the other side is Windsor Great Park with its famous Long Walk, beautiful lawns stretching between an avenue of trees to the south for 2.65 miles. The castle plus grounds deserve their own write up.

Take a stroll down Eton High St which is just over the river from the town centre, and enjoy a liquorice all sorts of varied establishments serving the local populace. It's a proper old fashioned English high street with lots of independent names, cafes and tea shops, an ancient post office that  looks as if it's livery hasn't changed since the First World War, clothes shops including one with the most splendid striped uniforms and natty footwear, wine bars and food shops. There is even a Coutts bank with a Coutts cash machine outside, never seen one of them before! We are in rarefied heights! Did David Cameron himself extract wads of cash from this very spot? Eton College is just a mile or so down the road on the right. This well worn street must have seen generations of schoolboys marching up and down in their striped jackets and boaters, raiding the local sweet shops, celebrating countless sporting and national victories, nicking the caps off countless traders heads, and getting fitted out for uniforms in some tailor's emporium.

If you take a walk up the extremely swan decked river from the town centre on the south side of the Thames you come to a suspended full size replica Hurricane fighter plane from the Second World War, and indeed the inventor of the Hurricane was a local man, Sidney Camm, who was born in Windsor in 1893 and became chief designer for the firm Hawker.

Other famous names associated with Windsor are a lady by the name of HM Queen Elizabeth 11 of course, Margaret Oliphant, 19th century novelist and historical writer, and actor Michael Caine, who lived here in the 60s and 70s.