Stardate: 28 April 2019 - You take the high road....

...and I'll be in Killin afore ye!  And what a ripper place it is - about 110 kms north west of Edinburgh in the county of Stirling, formerly Perthshire.

This is our very cosy cubby - a 200+ year old converted barn.  To the right of this pic is the thunderous River Dochart - we can hear it from inside the house and although an alien sound it's quite mesmerising. 

There's some good fishing to be had we're told (if you like that sort of thing) so Geoffy will be out in his rubber pants early tomorrow hoping for a big haul of snapper and flathead.





This pic of the river really doesn't do it justice

but we have some better ones to follow. This one was taken from the living room window.

On arrival we were greeted by our hosts who live somewhere in the village - I almost swooned when they said there's a Neolithic standing stone circle about a mile down the lane.  Never get between me and a stone circle!  I love them.

On route here we passed the turn-off to Stirling Castle and would have visited except there was a marathon on and the traffic was diverted.  Do hope we get another opportunity.

We also saw a sign to Rob Roy's grave so I expect we'll give that a run too. Plus Doune Castle which is of historic interest to me but was also used as a set for Game of Thrones, Monty Python's Life of Brian and Outlander.

Here's a couple of woolly ovines we saw on our trek to the local supermarket. 






I'll leave it to Mr Pants to tell you about our bingle with a boulder and the non-intuitive locking mechanism for a 2019 Volvo SUV.  But before doing so, two things: 1. Geoffy's planning for our trip has been exceptional.  Our digs in Edinburgh, within walking distance of all old town attractions, were perfect.  And beautiful Barn Cottage where we are now is simply fabulous and even our hosts commented that as a spot from which to explore the Scottish highlands, there is none better.  Good work, Snorks! xx   

2.  British free-to-air television is simply dreadful.  There may be some sort of current affairs program on the BBC but if so we have yet to view it.  This morning (Sunday at 9am) on BBC1 (the equivalent of the main ABC station) we watched Carry on Henry VIII, starring Sid James, Barbara Windsor and all the gang.  On BBC2 at the same time there was yet another snooker tournament, as there has been all week.. Not sure what was on elsewhere, probably the Jeremy "Biffo" Kyle Show and Coronation Street.  There is no 24 hour news channel, and for all its faults, I have a new respect for ABC News 24.  One more thing. Newspoll: 51/49.  What nonsense.  Labor will romp in in a 56/44 landslide.  You read it here.

                                                                     ****

All I can say about the Volvo and the experience of collecting it is that we've done it and we're here now.  From arrival at the Hertz depot until we drove away was at least an hour.  But the car itself seems fine and has a built in satnav.  We have our own portable model but so far the in-car version seems excellent so I reckon we'll stick with it.  When I say the car is fine, we had no clue at all as to how to lock it using the remote control.  At our first attempt we were at the Killin supermarket and after about 10 minutes of fruitless attempts, we gave up and Anne sat in the car while I did the shopping.  Don't laugh; it didn't seem funny at the time.  Oh alright, perhaps just a little chuckle would be permissible.  When we got to the house we googled it (what else?) and after about another 15 minutes eventually worked it out.  No point in describing how, but just believe me; it was in no sense intuitive.  I defy anyone to work it out without looking it up.  And no hard copy instructions in the glove box of course; how totally 20th century.

A view of the river Dochart we took on our walk to the village after we got our bearings.  Just beautiful.  Apparently it flows into Loch Tay, which seems to be in all the tourist guides.  Further info to follow in coming days.

We're told red squirrels abound here.  The reds are the native variety, unlike the imported greys.  (I think Squirrel Nutkin back in Edinburgh was grey, but he can't help it.) [Nutpants. Ed]

Anyway, I haven't seen any reds yet, and if I don't I want me money back.








Further adventures will start bright and early tomorrow.  Stay tuned.

Stardate: 27 April 2019 - Well helloooo Dolly!

And what an apposite title for today's post - meet Dolly the Sheep, the first cloned mammal.  Of course, she has been dead 16 years and only lived about half a sheep's normal lifespan but here she is, large as life in her own personal glass cabinet at the Museum of Scotland, which we visited today. 

And what a fabulous museum it is - we should have gone earlier as it would take days to see everything. 

We spent most of our time in the gallery "Kingdom of the Scots" and it was pretty impressive, with a comprehensive history and many artifacts from the Dark Ages to the Renaissance period. 

This is the cradle and chair of James the Sixth of Scotland whose mother, Mary Queen of Scots had been forced to abdicate and was exiled. James (later to become James the First of England) never saw his mother after his birth and was raised by her friend Annabel something. (Possibly but probably not Crabb.)

The museum had a charm that was missing from the British museum in London where we have visited several times previously - perhaps it was the absence of stolen and looted artifacts.  It was large and spacious and somehow less pompous than its London counterpart. 

Geoffy was particularly entranced by this early piano accordion - the working classes in the 19th century were encouraged to better themselves with music and other cultural pursuits so he would have fitted right in.  :-)

After our outing to the V and A museum in London some years ago, I had a new appreciation of gates. The V and A had a dedicated gate gallery that went on forever and was difficult to escape from.  But I thought this worthy specimen would sit well in the V and A.

We're leaving Edinburgh tomorrow morning to begin our highland fling.  Ironic as it may seem, I'll be glad to see the 'real' Scotland as old town Edinburgh is 90 per cent tourists including, of course, ourselves.  It will be nice to get off the beaten track and escape all the loud, chain-smoking visitors with 2-metre selfie sticks. 

Before I go, apologies if you have tried to post a comment on our blog unsuccessfully.  Not sure what the current problem is.  Keep trying! 

Handing over to Mr Pants now who is keen to share details about today's hearty lunch and our arvo activities!

***

We also paid another visit to Greyfriars Kirkyard.  Not a major exercise, as it's right next door.

Our digs are right behind this section of the stone wall.  You can't seen our windows as they're on the ground floor, so you'll just have to trust me.  In the last couple of days we've made several sightings of a frisky squirrel in our back yard.  Anne has christened him Squirrel Nutkin (with apologies to Beatrix Potter). [Actually I call him Squirrel Nutpants. - Ed]

He's quite entertaining.  Likes to scuttle across the top of the wall and leap onto the lower branches of the tree.  

A view of the kirkyard and beyond.  We do like a graveyard, and apparently so do many of the thousands of European tourists Anne mentions.  In this case I think the attraction is the story of Greyfriars Bobby.

After the National Museum and lunch we went on to the National Library.  Not a lot there for the everyday tourist like us, but we were quite taken with the exhibition on the resettlement of Scots after the end of WWI (this being soon after the centenary of course).  Some interesting exhibits and also a short film showing lifestyles of the time.  It looks like life was quite hard and many returned soldiers felt they'd been forgotten.  Housing in the cities was in critically short supply.  Some moved to the Highlands while others took the opportunity to migrate to the further reaches of 'the Empire'.  I'm sure we've all met numerous of the their ancestors over the years.

This was a topical election poster that says 'Mammy and Daddy are going to vote Labour.  Will you?'  Not sure how persuasive this was.  The first Labour PM (Ramsay MacDonald, as you knew of course) didn't take office until 1924.  

We were pretty much ready for a bit of R&R after our day's exertions (it is after all quite hard yards concentrating on all the museum and library exhibits, and Anne is certainly right about the quality of the Museum; one of the very best we've been to).  

We've really enjoyed Edinburgh.  For me the most impressive thing is the architecture.  Beautiful stone buildings absolutely everywhere you look.  But we won't miss the hordes of European tourists one little bit.  At one point today we were passed by two young women with very obvious Scots accents and I remarked how unusual this was.  I doubt very much that our European colleagues will be joining us at our highlands village ... or so we hope.

Stardate: 26 April 2019 - Down in the Bowels and Up on the Roof

As our major outing today (an underground tour of Mary King's Close, a 1600s streetscape) was booked for 10.15am, we had a few hours to kill beforehand on domestic duties: notably a second, grand Washing of the Smalls.  While British laundromat washing machines are fairly easily understood, the same cannot be said for their domestic counterparts.  The washing machine in our flat has 14 settings, including one for 'sports shoes'.  It has eight temperature settings plus a dial with seven numbers ranging from 400 to 1600 - no idea what its function is. There are no instructions.  Our first load took an hour and 25 minutes, despite our efforts to keep it as short as possible. We were reminded of our last trip to the UK when in a cavalier fashion we chucked everything in for an economy cycle, thinking that meant 'quick' but it took four hours and a pair of my (admittedly cheap) jeans came out in two pieces - the waistband separated from the rest.   British washing machines are rugged and inscrutable beasts.

While we were waiting we watched some telly.  Rod Stewart was appearing on "Lorraine" - a fairly low-brow morning show along the lines of Studio 10. How the mighty have fallen! He's apparently celebrating 50 years in the business as a solo artist but I was never that keen on him after his early stuff when I was still a fresh-faced schoolgirl.  Still scrubs up all right for an old codger though.  Then we watched Jeremy Kyle, and that is VERY low brow - studio confrontations between aggrieved people often involving biff.  Today it was two grandmothers going hammer and tongs at each other about access rights to the grandchildren.  Both women would have been about 35.  Not the most edifying viewing, although Geoff was quite enthralled.

A feature of old town Edinburgh is many narrow, steep alleyways that run off major streets.  Most are quite ancient and are still in use. This is Advocate's Close, not far from our first destination today, Mary King's Close.

Mary King was the name of one of the few wealthy residents of the Close, hence its name. It housed many residents and livestock, including cattle. There were slums and tenements on either side of the alleyway and large numbers of residents succumbed to plague during its worst outbreak in 1645.  (Mary had already carked it by then).

The Close was probably not dissimilar to this one in the pic but in the 18th century, part of the Close was demolished and the rest completely covered over by the building of the Royal Exchange.  Although it's now effectively underground, we were able to walk down and up the very steep remaining part of the Close and into several of the few remaining tenement houses.

It was all very cramped and claustrophobic but I suppose it's what you get used to.  Each day's slops bucket was emptied morning and evening into the street, as seemed to happen everywhere during this period, but I must say I find it puzzling that there wasn't a dedicated slops spot up the road and around the corner in these places.  Anyway, despite the Royal Exchange commandeering the street for its own nefarious, capitalist purposes in the 1700s, some stoic residents remained, with the last not actually vacating until 1902.   By then I imagine the practice of chucking the contents of the slops bucket out the front door had ceased.   

It was quite an entertaining excursion although we did think our tour guide a little hammy, given most attendees were po-faced and sober individuals like ourselves. 

Handing over to Mr Pants soonish to report on the afternoon's activities!

****

I didn't know that there are so many (I'd say hundreds) of these narrow, sloping alleys called Closes.  If you walk along the Royal Mile there's one about every 50 yards or less.  Here is the view from Advocate's Close (see photo above).  The thing that looks like a steeple is the Sir Walter Scott Monument, which is visible from many parts of central Edinburgh.

Following a pleasant lunch of quiche, sandwich and salad  (so good that we'd returned to the same place we lunched two days ago), we headed to Calton Hill.  The hill is not that far from the centre of town but I gathered from our bus tour two days ago was a pretty steep walk.  But you can drive to the top, so we hailed a convenient cab and asked if he could take us to the top.  Of course he could!  An excellent decision.

On arrival, it was clear that this has to be the best place for views of the city and beyond.  In addition to the views, there are numerous monuments and statues that make the trip worthwhile.  The camera worked overtime, but I'll only include the highlights:

This is the Dugald Stewart Monument that commemorates the Scottish philosopher and is based a Greek design.

The National Monument, commemorating Scots who were killed in the Napoleonic wars.  Although there are tourists cavorting on it, there are in fact no steps, and you have to clamber over the lower wall to get up there.  I figured if you were meant to climb on it there would have been steps, so I declined, out of respect.

And another Nelson Monument, this one apparently in the shape of an upturned telescope.  We went inside; lots of information about Nelson and the battle of Trafalgar, in case you needed any more.  Didn't mean that to sound disrespectful.  He is a genuine national hero; just that he seems to be commemorated almost everywhere you go.












And some views from the hill.

An ancient volcanic outcrop.  There were numerous hardy souls who'd hiked to the top.  Anne wanted to join them but I vetoed it.  What a spoilsport!

An excellent view of Edinburgh Castle (if I do say so myself), and far better than we managed to capture when we there two days ago.  Mainly because there weren't 5,000 tourists from Gdansk, Hanover and Seville in the way.

Finally, a distant water view of the Firth of Forth and the port of Leith.  And a nameless soul wistfully admiring the vista.










So many photos; so little time.  In this case I think the cliche a picture is worth a thousand words is apt.

Following our return home, and flushed with the success of the day, Anne insisted on an outing to the Grassmarket, a nearby street that is basically a row of pubs with the occasional restaurant to make it look wholesome.  I of course declined, as I only drink on very special occasions.  I'm told that she particularly liked The Last Drop and Biddy Mulligans, but I really wouldn't know.

Stardate: 25 April 2019 - Gallivanting to Glasgow

Today we sauntered down to Edinburgh Waverley train station and bought tickets to Glasgow for the day.  There was quite a queue behind us as we reached the ticket window when suddenly an elderly American woman barged past those waiting and yelled through the glass partition to a man wearing high-vis and carrying a dustpan and broom: "We seem to have a prarblem with our tickets."  I'm not sure what she thought he could do about it, given his job was station cleanliness, but she was ordered to join the queue and wait her turn. Good.

Anyway, it was a most pleasant journey, lasting about 45 minutes with about 5 stops en route. The Brits do trains brilliantly.  Being such a short trip, we were startled when over the PA, a guy named  Steve announced that he was our "hospitality host" and that he would shortly be coming through with his trolley of tea, coffee, soft drinks and biscuits.  Can you imagine this on one of the longer Sydney suburban services?!  The scenery between Edinburgh and Glasgow was pleasing and mostly rural.

Glasgow itself was a bit of a surprise - I had expected it to be grim and flinty but the parts we saw seemed prosperous.  Mind you, most of what we saw was from a sight-seeing bus so obviously the tour was not going to focus on council housing in the Gorbals.

This is student residences at Glasgow University.  It's a lovely campus, and apart from this beauty there were many Victorian buildings with circular turrets that seem so alien and mysterious to a colonial.

Off-topic for just a mo - we know some of our photos are shite, with blurry edges.  This one for example.  Despite much fiddling with the camera we cain't fix it.  I blame Scott Morrison.

I had always thought that Rabbie Burns was Scotland's national folk hero but he seems to play second fiddle to Sir Walter Scott, who's commemorated with statues throughout both Edinburgh and Glasgow.  Here's Wally standing tall in George Square, Glasgow.

For lunch we went to Ed's Diner in St Enoch shopping centre. I think the manager and staff were trying to recreate Arnold's Malt Shop in Happy Days. Not hugely well but still better than a poke in the eye.

And finally before I hand over to Sir Walter Scottypants, I must commend a tasty little drop we've discovered on our travels:  Clearsprings Sauvignon Blanc from South Africa's Western Cape.  Delicious and only 6 quid a bottle. Bottoms up!

***

Yet again, I think the tourist sightseeing bus was quite a success.  When you arrive somewhere and don't have any firm idea about where you want to go and what you want to see, it's a top idea. Anne thought today's tour guide could have taken lessons from Heidi in Edinburgh yesterday, but she did set a pretty high standard.  Our bloke today was quite charming in his own way, even if some subtitles from the Glaswegian would have been quite helpful at times.  It was clear he loved his city and that's probably the most important thing.

Another structure on the campus of the University.  I suppose you're going to ask what it is, but it was a bit hard taking photos from the bus while trying to comprehend the Glaswegian commentary.  Anyway, it's pretty impressive huh?

The university campus was my favourite part of the city I think - just glorious.

This is the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, just outside the campus.  And a bit of the bus in the bottom right. It's hard to know what to feature when there's such wonderful architecture everywhere you look.

As an example, here's a sundry example of another Glasgow building.  Not one of special provenance, but it does show a typical streetscape.  I'm sure if you're a local you think nothing of it, but for us antipodeans (particularly Canberrans), it's pretty damn impressive.

We really liked Glasgow, but then again we've liked everywhere we've been, even Colchester (up to a point).  Tomorrow we're back in and around Edinburgh.  We've had a couple of spots of rain this arvo, so if it continues tomorrow it'll be a challenge for us.  Fortunately we've lined up some suitable indoor attractions to visit.

Stardate: 24 April 2019 - Out and about in the old town

We've realised we've said nothing about out train journey to Edinburgh yesterday so will remedy that now.  It was excellent!  A tad under five hours in total with plenty of scenery to keep us interested including some gorgeous pastoral landscapes.  In Northumberland we saw the tidal island of Lindisfarne in the distance, whose recorded history dates back to the 6th century AD.  We also saw lots of baby lambs, cattle and canola fields, beautiful Durham Cathedral, as well as that coat-hanger type bridge in Newcastle that bears a resemblance to the Sydney Harbour bridge and I think was designed by the same engineer. No sign of  Detective Chief Inspector Vera though - Newcastle is her 'hood.

The best thing about our journey was that the catering crew never stopped feeding us.  Two hearty meals on offer about two hours apart and non-stop offers of tea, coffee and soft drinks, then grog after midday.  Singapore Airlines and their meagre offerings could certainly learn a lesson or two from London North East Railways.  All meals and drinks were included in the ticket price, which we got at a quite substantial discount with our geriatrics railway cards. 

Moving on, here's me and the statue of Greyfriars Bobby, allegedly a Skye Terrier but I thought he looked more like a spaniel. Bobby's devoted owner died when Bobby was only about 2 years old and from then on he rarely moved from his owner's grave just over our back fence in Greyfriars churchyard.  The church honchos continually warned him off but Bobby persisted and was eventually allowed to stay. He was fed and watered by locals in the nearby Greyfriars pub and lived till he was 15, dying in 1872.

Good boy, Bobby.

We took several photos of this cafe frontage and Mr Pants and I were in furious disagreement about which was the best. He won. So I present to you the upper reaches of the outside of the cafe wherein J.K. Rowling drafted the first volume of the Harry Potter series - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.  You will just have to imagine how the frontage looks from ground level.  And indeed, the interior.  On a bus tour we took later we went past a number of landmarks that Rowling used as inspirations in her book, including a very narrow, curved and cobbled street that she imagined as Diagon Alley.

 And this is Greyfriars Kirk, which we can see from our bedroom window, being just over the back fence.  It was built in 1600 and stands on the site of a pre-Reformation establishment of the Franciscan order - the Grey Friars.  There are heaps of old graves in the churchyard.  This would have been a real issue for me as a child, given that we're right next door. Hooray for adulthood!






Mr Pants is now cooking dinner but will be with you shortly.  Till tomorrow!

***

We weren't intending to take a hop on-hop off bus tour, but we found ourselves at one of the stops, and made a spontaneous decision to do so.  And a good decision it turned out to be.  We scaled the stairs to the top level where we got a panoramic view, and for part of the tour we were the only patrons.  Later we were joined by an eclectic group from Germany and other sundry Europeans keen to enjoy their UK holiday before Brexit takes effect.  Tour guide Heidi (Scottish, although she did speak German) was excellent, and we told her so.  A great way to see a new city when you've just arrived and don't really know your way around.  And they sold us discounted tickets to Edinburgh Castle.

The castle is undoubtedly the top attraction in Edinburgh.  No surprises I suppose, but nevertheless we were a tad overwhelmed by the crowds.  We doubt that there would ever be a time to visit when it wouldn't be packed out.  Most of our photos were intended to feature parts of the castle, but in reality seemed to highlight sundry tourists from who-knows-where.  One pic in particular of the oldest building in the castle, a chapel from the 12th century, looked for all the world as though we intended to focus on a particular woman in the foreground.  As Anne 

said: that's all very well, except it's not me. Touche.

Another miscellaneous view of the castle, and one of the few in which people that we don't know do not actually dominate the photo.

Anyway, moosn't groomble; if it wan't any good nobody would want to go.  During the day we did see lots of other great views of Edinburgh architecture, which is truly wonderful.  Most of our photos didn't really do it justice, although this one comes close.

It's a beautiful city, and nearly all of what you want you to see is within pretty easy walking distance, which is a great bonus.  We'll be doing some more of it in due course, although tomorrow we think we'll head to Glasgow, about an hour in the train.  We're told that fewer tourists are attracted to Glasgow than Edinburgh; we certainly hope so!

Stardate: 23 April 2019 - Greetings from Edinbrrrrr!

And how welcome this chilly weather is after our week residing in a London furnace, not to mention outings every day in woolies when the outdoor temperature was 25 degrees. But we did enjoy London and I can't imagine that anyone wouldn't - so big, busy, multicultural and historical. Fabulous.

We are now ensconced at 1/1 Forest Hill, Old Town, Edinburgh, a mere spit from the statue of Greyfriars Bobby -  like me, those of you who are pushing 87 years old will fondly remember the old Disney movie of that name from about 1933 when all of us were wee bairns.  It seems just like yesterday!

We had a slightly inauspicious start this morning - we had booked a car to take us from our furnace to Kings Cross station at 9.15am.  It would have been at most a 10 minute walk but we had a lot of luggage (particularly with Geoff's skis, hatbox full of fedoras, piano accordion etc) so we thought a ride in a stately minivan would be the ticket.  Our driver turned up at the appointed time and off we went, with all going well for at least one minute until we hit traffic gridlock. We moved maybe 20 metres in 25 minutes, at which time our driver said it was unlikely we would be at Kings Cross for our 10.30 train. So out we scrambled in the middle of the traffic (it wasn't going anywhere) and legged it to the station.  We did pay the agreed fare though as the the driver was so apologetic about the gridlock and seemed to take personal responsibility for it. 

Arriving at Kings Cross station we repaired immediately to the First Class lounge where we were offered a refreshing cup of tea and a biscuit as well as The Times newspaper.  Lefty comrades, I did read it but would hasten to add that I sneered and scoffed at every article.  I also cursed Rupert Murdoch and his idiot sons, so I hope I have redeemed myself.

I'm sorry for the (thus far) absence of pictures. They were all taken here in Edinbrrrr and Geoff will be reporting on that imminently.  One more thing before I hand over:  I learned today that the West Ham United Football Club club song is "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles".  Good grief.  They should listen to the Canberra Raiders rugby league club song "The Green Machine" and see how it's done.  Over to you, McSnorkypants!

                                                                                  ***

Our new digs seem quite acceptable, if not exactly looxoorious.  First impression is that it's very well located.  Old Town is pretty much in the middle of where you want to be in Edinburgh.  Now, when I say it's not looxoorious, here is the panoramic view out our front window.

 It's not really as bad as this makes it look.  It's in a dead end end lane and you have to go up the steps on the left to get in.  We hope that the dead end will mean no passing noise at 2 tomorrow morning.  We'll see.

The street from which the dead end lane runs looks quite promising.  Three pubs within about 50 yards.  Further reports to follow.  A promise, not a threat.

We're on the ground floor ( I gather quite an attraction in Edinburgh, where apartment buildings as tall as 6 storeys have no lifts), and so we also have a beautifully manicured back yard, as you can see.  Note the bowling green-like lawn and drifts of tulips and snapdragons.  I think that immediately over the back stone wall is Greyfriars Kirk and graveyard.








We've already done a supermarket run (an essential start upon arrival at a new destination), and found some modest local architecture.

I'm sure there are many more impressive examples of Edinburgh architecture (Edinburgh Castle probably counts in this regard), but this is the best we can do in the couple of hours we've been here so far.










In summary, we've made a good start, and it will be onward and upward from tomorrow.  If the weather is good that'll be great, but if not we'll make do with some indoor attractions.  Await further developments!

Stardate: 22 April 2019 A Meander through St Pauls

Our last full day in London and what better way to spend the morning than exploring beautiful, baroque St Pauls Cathedral, which those of a certain age will know was created by Sir Christopher Wren to replace an earlier St Pauls destroyed by the Great Fire of London in 1666. 

It was difficult to get a pic that captures it in all its grandeur so these humble offerings will have to suffice.  (Besides, many blog readers will have visited themselves so know how lovely it is.)

Unfortunately visitors are not allowed to take pictures inside.

You can imagine my disappointment when we established that the Whispering Gallery was closed and so we would not be traversing the 257 steps to the dome to experience its remarkable auditory magic. Oh what a shame, I said, almost convincingly.  But other delights were in store. I thought it very civilised that our audio guides enabled us to sit and listen in each area of the cathedral: the nave, each transept, under the dome and the quire, so we only needed to get up and shuffle off to a new area to sit again as each commentary finished. 

The crypt underneath houses the graves of Admiral Nelson, the Duke of Wellington and Christopher Wren, among other notables.  It also has a quite serviceable cafe and a toilet, both of which are high on my priority list during any outing.

After our self-guided tour we returned upstairs and just sat for a while. Despite the tourists, it was a peaceful place to just relax and admire our surroundings. 

Next we were off to Giltspur Street, just up the road.  There is not much by way of attraction, but we were charmed by The Golden Boy on the corner of Cock Lane. 

This spot was originally known as Pye Corner and is famous as marking the furthest extent of the Great Fire of London. The inscription beneath the Golden Boy reads "This Boy is in Memmory Put up for the LATE FIRE of LONDON Occasion'd by the Sin of Gluttony."

A larger inscription underneath suggests that if not the sin of Gluttony, then "the papists" might have been responsible for the fire. Both interesting perspectives but I had always heard that the fire was accidental and started in a bakery on Pudding Lane. 

But back to Cock Lane briefly - it was, of course, a street of brothels back in the day. 





Our next stop was a little park in West Smithfield (still bang in the centre of London).

This space was originally called Smethefelde and then Smoothfield and from ancient times was used for jousts, tournaments and executions as well as a market.  It's been a park since 1872.

Now handing over to Geoffy who has some exciting news about pocket-sized chisels and stilsons for the traveller's tool bag. 

***

The park was really only an opportunity for us to set a spell (Beverly Hillbillies reference), and an excellent spot for it it was too.  An unexpected highlight was the arrival of champion police dog Robbie.

Robbie had been taken to the park for a bit of R & R by his devoted handler from the Met.  He's been trained to detect drugs, guns and explosives (could almost be the title of a Warren Zevon song) and is apparently pretty damned good.  He's recently earned his spurs by sniffing out 3kg of 'Class A', most probably cocaine.  Concealed in a wardrobe, and which they would never have found but for Robbie's olfactory efforts.

He's a Springer Spaniel as you can see.  He's 5 and has been in training since he was a pup.  We were told we could pet him, but he wasn't at all interested in us.  He was convinced that his handler had some extra special reward for his discovery of the contraband.  We were told his preferred reward would be a ball, not treats.

Alright, enough police dog news, but you all know how dog-obsessed we are.

The only downside of the day then ensued, which consisted of fruitless hunting for somewhere to eat, including Ye Olde Mitre Tavern, which I'm now convinced doesn't exist.  Thanks, numerous guide book references and Google maps.  Never mind, patience is occasionally rewarded, and we eventually stumbled across The Clerk & Well.

The district is called Clerkenwell, so of course you'd call your pub the Clerk & Well.  What else?  The district is named after something called the Clerk's Well, where parish clerks performed plays based on biblical themes.  Parts of the well still exist, but ravenous hunger precluded us searching for it.

The lunch was pretty good actually, although a stale cheese sandwich would have been quite acceptable.  The Mad Goose pale ale from Warwickshire wasn't bad either.

By the way, we couldn't get a decent photo of the front door without that bloke lurking there trying to sell stolen watches.

Not too many more highlights, thanks to a wasted 15 minutes hike to St Brides church, which very helpfully was closed.  We had been there several years ago.  Its claim to fame is that following bombing damage in WWII, the basement that had been blocked off for centuries was exposed, revealing a floor featuring very well preserved Roman mosaic tiles.  I think the appropriate proverb is: it's an ill wind that blows nobody good.

Speaking of bomb damage, we did walk past this on Farringdon Road.

I hafta confess, I didn't know London was damaged by Zeppelin raids in WWI.  The bombadier would have leaned over the side and dropped the missile by hand.

It's the sort of thing I should have known, but I'm happy that today has been an educational experience.

Great Aunt Anne back again now with something I forgot about Giltspur Street. During the Peasant Revolt in the 1300s, King Richard the Second agreed to meet Wat Tyler and other rebels in this very street to discuss their demands. But treachery ensued and the then Lord Mayor of London stabbed Wat Tyler. He took refuge in nearby St Bartholemew's church but was dragged out and beheaded.  And there endeth the history lesson.  And also tonight's blog post.  Tomorrow we'll be reporting from Edinburgh.  Och mon!