slightly weird

1st June 20221st June 2022

Nottingham 3 – The university, a tram journey and leaving

Friday, 20 May, 2022

The time had sped by. I’d been mostly sleepless overnight. The noise from the street was even heavier than the night before and when the sun started to rise in the morning there were still revelers slowly winding down their drunken, chatty, sing-y time out. I knew I was going to spend as much time resting before checking out as I could possibly wring out.

We made the unusual decision to go to the Wetherspoons pub across the road for a cheap breakfast. Before that I’d gone up to the top floor to see what Krish said was a rooftop restaurant – not there, just a short corridor filled with what I guessed were the fancier rooms. On the first floor, I checked to see what was on offer there. A lot of boring looking typical breakfast foods were sitting in their serving containers. Nothing to see here, so Wetherspoons it was. The pub is in a beautiful building called Lloyds, so a former bank? The inside was typical, quiet, vast and somewhat gloomy, We ordered our ‘American pancake breakfast’ – small for me, large for Krish. It arrived, the usual chewy-never-fluffy British take on an American pancake along with sausage for me, while Krish’s had sausages and eggs. Strangely, there was a layer of an attempt at streaky bacon in between my two pancakes. Amusing. But we were fed!

We looked about George Street, which had some interesting buildings and then I took some photos of the hotel, which itself has an interesting history as Nottingham’s oldest inn.

Viscosa House, George Street — Viscosa House – Krish wondered if it was Italian in some way – an ordinary building with some nice details. Now home to Attenborough Dental. Attenborough must be a Midlands name.

At the hotel, we continued to pack and check for stray items and took our case down for reception to store.

The last day of a trip is always an odd one. There are all the bits and pieces you haven’t seen yet, and the train journey is looming. We’ve had our share of almost missing those trains. Today was a day without much of a plan.

The plan we did have was to get a tram and bus pass and look about a bit further out. (This never happened.) Krish wanted to see the university campus and I wanted to see if we could see any signs of the original Boots building – Boots first store was in Nottingham and it was here that ibuprofen (originally Brufen) was developed by Dr Stewart Adams’ team in the late 50s, coming to stores in 1969 after several clinical trials. Boots had started as a herbalist on Goose Gate (just by our hotel) in 1849. I’d not done the research so didn’t notice the building. Later Krish told me he had seen it there. No photos.

We walked over to the university, which proved to not be very far away. You don’t have to walk too far from the centre of town to find yourself in more open and residential territory.

The university was just after the shopping centre area and before the road widened. On the way I’d checked to see if there was a market but there was no sign of one, only a few stalls and vans scattered in the side streets. I wasn’t finding it easy to walk anymore so I said no to climbing the steps up to some of the higher street areas, and Krish said he wouldn’t go alone but stay with me instead.

At the tram stop was a university building called Boots Library. I got excited, thinking that they might have some historic stuff in there, then saw they had a roof garden. I asked the security guard if I needed ID to get in and he let me know that, because it was exam week, no one was allowed in. I asked if I could use the lift to see the roof garden, since it was located right at the entrance but he said no again, telling me to come back in a couple of weeks. So no go. Disappointing but I’m glad I tried.

My tram ticket for the day was a concession price of £3, for Krish it meant £1 for any short hop (covering the four or five stops in the city centre) journey so he decided on that option. I love trams and try to go on one in every city we arrive in. This one wasn’t as modern inside as it looked outside. It was like a Toronto streetcar, but not newest generation.

We took it to the last stop for short hop – one station too far, said Krish as we got out in a sparse residential area. The suburbs had already begun just one stop south of the station. With nothing much to see here, we turned back to the city in search of a seat for me, and lunch for both of us. To be honest, I was done and knew I didn’t have another step in me.

But there were several hundred more! Looking for a restaurant, we fell into the usual frustrating trap of not seeing one that pleased us both. I was ready for a pizza and a seat but Krish is dairy-phobic right now so that was out. We sat in a Chinese restaurant looking at an uninspiring menu, then left. We walked around the block and back again, settling for a very disappointing fish and chips between us. It was so bad but I had my seat and enjoyed the rest. I really didn’t care what we ate.

We had a little time before we needed to head to the station and I wanted to see Sneinton Market. There were signs pointing to it so I asked Krish to go find it and let me know if it was worth the hilly walk. He came back into view and waved me to come down the hill. The market is a small area of shops in two or three rows. It was very quiet. Two young women sat eating the mandatory avocado on toast outside a shop. I considered buying chocolate and then left without it, took a few photos and out of the market again. Not really worth it, not at that time of day at least.

Sneinton Market - deserted — Sneinton Market – deserted

Up the hill again, grab the suitcase, a quick hop into Sainsburys to get a drink and a snack for later, and then to the tram stop. I had my ticket already and Krish would get a short hop. I had a mental block when the tram arrived suddenly and went into Toronto mode thinking he could buy his ticket on the tram. In I went and, as the door closed behind me, noticed that Krish wasn’t with me but was at the ticket machine at the stop. A forehead slapping moment. Luckily his tram arrived just a couple of minutes after mine. There was a lift down to the station hall waiting area and we were about 20 minutes early. There were absolutely no seats available anywhere and Krish went off to explore the area promising to be back within 15 minutes. I was really relieved to see him about 10 minutes later. I’d had to stand the whole time and knew that Krish was often late for things. But all was fine, we got down to our train and were on our way home.

The journey to St Pancras went by quickly. On our way down the escalator I noticed a huge queue doubling back on itself right across the central hallway of the station. As we headed towards the exit and turned the corner, the queue continued gathering strength with at least one double-back. There were masses of people and my only guess what this was now how it looked when you take the Eurostar during Covid and Brexit. This was a really sobering thought. We’d travelled by Eurostar many times and never encountered more than a few people in the queue ahead of us. Mind boggling.

The bus was coming just as we reached the street, the easiest connection from Kings Cross that we’d ever made. From the bus to our Hackney stop, to the flat, a light dinner, a cup of tea or two and finally back to our own bed. Nottingham done!

1st June 20221st June 2022

Nottingham 2 – Old friends and castles – A very full day

Thursday, 19 May, 2022

We’ve remarked since our Nottingham visit how the ‘Quarter’ system in Norwich and Colchester might not be so silly after all. Not for tourists, at any rate. Quarters, which although pretentious, allowed us to explore areas in good-sized portions and kept us organised. Nottingham seemed to have a large central and spreading core, surrounded by randomness. Yes, the map showed neighbourhoods, but they weren’t as cohesive as those other places. We weren’t as focussed as we, or at least I, wanted to be. I expect to find out I missed something super important or I actually see things I think I didn’t but I’ll focus on what I do remember seeing, for now.

The full day of any trip is full indeed, as you will see.

As an afterthought I’ve done a map to help readers navigate.

The blue area was around the train station. Orange is the old area including the Lace Market. Yellow is Hockley, where our hotel was. Green is the city centre. Purple is the university and pink is the castle. Now we all know.

Thursday morning we talked briefly about breakfast and I decided that I’d get dressed while it was still early and go to any place that was open in the pedestrian street by the hotel for a sandwich type thing to bring back to the hotel. I chose Hockley Kitchen at the corner. They were just setting up and here I was to disturb their routine. I ordered a bagel (cream cheese and smoked salmon) then wondered which sandwich to get for Krish. So I ordered that too (his dairy-free life cross so many things off the list). This caused confusion – I paid a very reasonable sum at the till and waited at a seat where I could watch life outside. When my bag arrived only Krish’s sandwich was inside. Somehow, maybe because I was alone, they thought I’d changed my mind from the bagel to the sandwich. They hustled to make the bagel…hustled slowly. No fast food here. I thought then about how so far Nottingham folk weren’t the warm, chatty sort. My attempts at some idle chatter and humour were mostly wasted. I hope to have my mind changed some time.

This morning I was meeting an old work friend, Sue. We’d arranged it some time ago when Krish realised that Lincoln, where she lives, isn’t so far away from Nottingham. She was coming in for lunch and Krish had booked at Fletcher’s again. She messaged me earlier than expected that she was in town and I let her know that I’d get dressed and meet her. Krish would go solo exploring until lunch time.

Meet me at the lions, Sue said. It felt very Nottinghamy. Those lions! I have to say it was an easy task – straight down the gentle hill on the lower pedestrian street to the Old Market Square, where I sat at Leo’s feet and waited, watching people walk by and contemplating my new surroundings. This wasn’t London – no rushing about, no sense of urgency, a quieter form of chaos. Sue arrived and we walked around a few streets chatting until we found a good bench to sit at. I was in yet another shopping street, an older one. Sue told me I was in the less attractive side of town now, the bit that hadn’t been regenerated yet. It felt only slightly shabbier with perhaps fewer people.

To our left was a tunnel where Sue said we’d go to get to lunch. At this point I felt quite disoriented. Surely the tunnel was leading away from where we needed to go. I questioned it but Sue said, yes, it was going the right way, while I decided to remember my poor orienteering skills and go where I was led. The tunnel had a security gate – airport style – at the entrance, and police officers standing by. Was something going on, we asked? Apparently not. We didn’t have to go through the gate at all – not suspicious enough, I suppose. Maybe this was football-related, we never did find out. The tunnel was of hoardings – a long diverting wooden structure, lined with childish but interesting paintings showing Nottingham’s history.

When we came out of the tunnel, our place on the map made more sense. We’d turned left to the tunnel and now we would be heading left again in the direction I hoped the college would be. Right beside us was a large modern Broadmarsh bus station and car park where Sue had parked earlier. It wasn’t until later I realised this was the same bus station we’d seen when we came out from the train the day before. The place is completely new and very modern and spacious. It’s not open yet but will be amazing when it is. I thought back to Victoria Bus Station, that seemed barely changed over the years. Something like this would be fantastic. Sue had already made friends with the security guard who told us the best way to get out of the mammoth building and on to Fletcher’s.

It was easy – out the door, straight ahead and we were already almost at Fletcher’s door. And we were early so sat in the sunshine chatting until Krish arrived – ten minutes late but finally there.

Fletcher’s experience was more relaxed than the evening before. We all had a good meal, chatting about old times and what’s next. I miss this sort of interaction with real humans. The pandemic had robbed me of that. My usual weekly meetings with friends and having people over and returning their visits seem distant. How to get them back? Sue hadn’t left yet and I already felt lonely.

Something about Fletcher’s. It’s a great idea to search out culinary school restaurants. You can’t do better really and I recommend it. I had a funny chat with one of the student chefs. On the walls were framed chef shirts signed by the chefs who had visited here. Pierre Marco White was one – and he had two shirts. The young chef was enthusiastic, telling me that this was the chef he most wanted to meet and emulate. His eyes were shining. He told me that on his shirt PMW had signed ‘Hurry Cooling,’ which meant that you wanted the food to cool down so that you could eat it. I was amused – I am quite sure it read “Happy Cooking.” Which one of us was right?

Krish and I had noticed the church up on the hill and some older streets just before the restaurant so that was our next adventure. This is Lace Market. a historic quarter-mile square area. It was the centre of the world’s lace industry, now a protected heritage area. The streets here were interesting and we found some nice little passages and architectural details. Continue reading “Nottingham 2 – Old friends and castles – A very full day”

27th May 2022

Nottingham 1 – Arriving and Central Nottingham

Wednesday, 18 May, 2022

Nottingham has also been on my list and was the last trip we took during the Rail Sale. Just like Norwich, we planned three days, two nights and booked our hotel.

Our train was leaving from St. Pancras at 11:35 and unlike the mad scramble we’d had when going to Sheffield and Leicester, we allowed plenty of time and had a short wait at the station.

Since we were last here they opened The Francis Crick Institute, a biomedical research institute. On my list!

The train ride went by quickly. And we got to Nottingham about 13:10.

When we first left the station I was reminded of Leicester. The street ahead of us was very quiet and lined with red brick buildings. After a block or two we turned in front of a new bus station and the college and up a hill where the tram tracks ran on an elevated road. Just a few blocks up and we reached our hotel, The Mercure.

The area we were staying in – Hockley – was considered trendy, bohemian. It was a small grid of streets with a pedestrianised central road lined with small restaurants and bars. We’d decided on Chinese food before we got there but had to choose between three. The area seems to have a bit of a Chinatown and we ended up in one that had two large posters showing that Giles Coren had loved this place. We thought it would be fun to see if Giles was right.

The restaurant was Shanghai Shanghai. We ordered eggplant with green beans and rice, some crispy chilli beef and something called Sweetie Pumpkin Tarts – a sweet-for-sure pumpkin croquette that tasted like dessert. The verdict – Giles Coren hasn’t a clue!

Time to explore a bit. The first thing we discovered was that Nottingham is full of ‘chambers.’ I’ll assume these little hidden mews were solicitors’ offices that have been turned into small cafes and boutiques. They were everywhere. What does this say about Nottingham, that there were so many lawyers?

Meandering just off the main pedestrian way to the market square we came across a church and more alleyways and chambers, but once back onto the busier area we found The Exchange. Saying we found it is a bit silly. How can you miss it?

As soon as we went in, I told Krish that we were surely back in Turin or even Naples. The whole thing looked just like every Italian galleria.
The Exchange Buildings were built between 1927 and 1929, replacing an earlier 18th century building. It was Nottingham’s first shopping centre occupied at that time by Joseph Burton. In the 80s it was called Burtons Arcade before it was refurbished to its present state. I found a virtual tour. See what you think. The Exchange adjoins The Council House, which houses a 200ft high dome. Under the dome at the top are four murals, each showing a key historic time for the city. I photographed the one showing Robin Hood and later Krish took photos of all of them, which will follow in a later post.

Council House is home to Little John, the ‘deepest bell in the UK’ – with an E flat tone. We had heard this bell chiming each quarter hour – where was it, we asked – and remarked that it sounded exactly like Big Ben, an unexpected sound in little Nottingham. Turns out that we aren’t the only ones since it has been considered as a replacement should the ‘delipidated’ Big Ben fail. We’d hear the bell and think, where is it, why does it sound like Big Ben, and then wondered if it came from the Whitechapel Bell Foundry (it doesn’t – it’s from John Taylor & Co).

The Old Market Square had no market, and we never saw one while there. It’s pretty vast and people sit around any area that has ledges. I felt it had huge potential for more and I’m sure there must be events at times, but not while we were there. One story said it was the largest public square in England (UK?) while another said it was the second largest. In front of the Council House were two stone lions – nicknamed Oscar (on the right) and the much-loved Leo (on the left). Krish took a liking to Leo and I got to see this Nottingham pet up close the following day. Continue reading “Nottingham 1 – Arriving and Central Nottingham”

14th May 2022

A day in Colchester

Thursday, 5 May, 2022

May was a month for travel. Some of this was because British Rail had a big ticket sale, 50% off for a million tickets. This, plus our 30% rail discount, made travelling very tempting. We had two stays away – Norwich, and coming up soon, Nottingham, and one day trip to Colchester.

I’m not keen on day trips since my knee has been so painful. The overnight trips have lots of rest and relaxation built into them, but when you have a day trip you have nowhere to go to rest comfortably. However, with a bit of planning and a lot of cooperation, it can be done.

The truth is that I’d not thought much about Colchester. From time to time I’d read about it, that was the UK’s oldest town and that it was a market town. During the pandemic, a local cake shop Victoria Yum moved there. The owner, Kiersten, put Instagram posts up regularly. So I had a plan to go to Colchester, check it out and go say hi to Kiersten. We’d tried to go there as a stop after Norwich – it’s on the same line – but the fare was too high. The sale made it much more reasonable.

I did a bit of research on interesting things to do and we set off for our train. It’s about 45-50 minutes to Colchester from Stratford. It seemed to go quickly.

When you get to Colchester by train, you aren’t actually in the town of Colchester. That’s reached by another train that makes an 8-minute journey to Colchester Town. Luckily our ticket got us all the way there. It felt funny to be on the Norwich train again.

A map showing the four quarters of Colchester

Colchester looked small and quiet and we started to walk. We found one of our places of interest right away. It was just behind the station, St Botolph’s Priory. It was founded between 1093 and 1100. In the Colchester siege of 1648 the early Norman church was largely destroyed by cannon fire and has never been repaired. The church had been built of flint rubble with arches and dressings in brick, mostly reused from Roman buildings at nearby Colchester. This was a lovely ruin. We sat and admired it for a while.

We left the priory and headed into the centre of town. Although Colchester lacked much in the way of energy or urbanity, it was visually interesting a lot of the time and I took many photos. It’s already hard to decide which ones to use and I’ve only just started.

Colchester has the accustomed lanes all leading to a more modern shopping area. We wanted to get the lay of the land, see what we were in for in terms of architecture and scope, and of course where to eat. Krish had booked a place already but we then decided it was better for dinner. After a heavy lunch, who wanted to walk around so much?

The lanes were full of small cafes and shops. We poked around a bit before looking for our lunch choice of restaurants.

We somehow hit Red Lion Yard, where Kiersten has her shop, without trying. And a lovely yard it is too! Festooned with union jacks and the site of the fantastic old Red Lion Inn. It felt festive and very English. I popped in to say hello to Kiersten and we had a glimpse of the inside of the inn as we walked by towards the high street.

Interior of Victoria Yum — Victoria Yum, Kiersten on the left – inside the buildings of the Red Lion Inn

Colchester’s main high street has a grand building. the Town Hall. Very impressive! We continued along, then back into the lanes area looking for a place called Timbers.

Timbers sounded like it would be a nice old Tudor style pub, but instead was a café. My assumptions led me to walk by it a few times. Perhaps I should have kept walking, but such is life when you care what you eat! Krish decided he would get a breakfast and I’m not keen so ordered my own thing, the daily suet pudding (steak and mushroom) and it arrived as an enormous plate in front of me. Right then! You won’t be surprised to hear that I ate almost half of it. ) It was the same for Krish, whose breakfast was aptly named Mega. Did I mention we didn’t want anything heavy? )

If we’d been at home, a nap would be in order even though we hadn’t eaten even one whole lunch between us. However, we had about six hours to go, so we walked on.

We found our next two targets quite easily and accidentally. The first was the Jumbo Water Tower. It’s very hard to miss! It was completed in 1883 and was nicknamed ’Jumbo’ after the London Zoo elephant as a term of derision in 1882 by Reverend John Irvine who was annoyed that the tower dwarfed his nearby rectory. Jumbo or not, it’s a brutalist and ugly thing in an otherwise pretty little area where we also saw a Quaker Friends’ House doubling as a polling station. It was local voting day in the UK.

The water tower was right at our next target, the Balkerne Gate. It is the largest surviving gateway in Roman Britain, dating from the second century. It’s a very impressive structure with the lines of red brick running through the stone wall that we got used to seeing in Torino.

Next to the gate is a big white pub, The Hole in the Wall, with some of the Roman gate showing under its foundation, where they had simply built on top.

Beyond the gate, is a highway and beyond that a large residential area so it was time to turn back and track down the final area we’d planned to check out, the Dutch Quarter. Continue reading “A day in Colchester”

10th May 202210th May 2022

Norwich – Elm Hill and Over the Water

Thursday, 28 April, 2022

We had the rest of the sausages and hot cross buns and started getting ready to leave. I have recurring nightmares about having to pack for somewhere and not being able to get it together. So in real life I try to get it done early and quickly – it’s almost like PTSD from all those bad dreams. Anyway, everything fit in so that’s good. When the case was almost done, the plumber showed up to fix the shower and said that there was something wrong with the thermostat and it would have to be replaced. A few minutes later the receptionist showed up to offer us a shower in an empty room. Way too late! We politely refused and soon afterwards left our cases in the front lobby and left, passing the views of the cathedral and the back road to where we needed to be. There was construction that Krish was sure was a nod to Ukraine.

We planned to go ‘over the water,’ which is what they call it in Norwich – crossing the River Wensum. It’s also called The Creative Quarter, since the art school and other creative arts venue are there. So ‘Creative Quarter, Over the Water.’ My friend Tom, who has lived here, had told me to check out Elm Hill and I’d seen a bit of it the night before so knew it was worth looking at. It’s just before you reach the river.

It’s worth a moment to say that the street called Tombland is wonderfully named. It comes from two Old English words meaning ’empty space’ – and the area was originally the site of an Anglo-Saxon market.

Elm Hill is considered the most famous and most complete medieval street in the city. It’s steep, cobbled, and lined with some lovely small boutiques. At the top is St Peter Hungate church. The churchwardens planted the first elm trees during the first quarter of the 16th century and these gave the name to the street. They stood there until Dutch Elm disease killed them all.

Although there’s evidence that Elm Hill has been there since the 1200s, very few buildings now there are of an earlier date than 1507, when 700 houses n Norwich were destroyed by fire. The oldest building is The Britons Arms, 1420. The Tudor building above is 22-26 Elm Hill former Paston House, now Strangers Club. The wooden door with the plaque saying Father Ignatius tells another tale. Father Ignatius (Reverend Joseph Leicester Lyne ) and his Anglican monks first came to open his monastery in 1863. He was by all accounts charismatic and controversial. By 1866 his monastery was closed, following wide-spread public outrage and outbreaks of violence over the activities of Father Ignatius and his Third Order. Since I read most of what I know now after leaving Elm Hill, I can’t tell you which buildings are which, but they are certainly memorable. Memorable to my legs too – the cobbles and the steep hill were not friendly to them. Then we went over the water.

I was looking for where Tom used to live but I never found it. He’d sent me a map but I couldn’t make it out – ‘not very good with maps.’ This area was rougher than the other side of the river. Krish and I talked about how different the areas people actually live in can be from what you see in the centre of towns. My legs were tired though, so Krish went exploring and I got a hot chocolate and sat outside waiting for him. We thought we might try to eat here, but somehow we reached the residential area very quickly and so turned around. I could tell I was reaching overload.

I’ll confess to a lot of blurry memory of what we saw. A lot in a short time…no time to linger, explore, contemplate, and at this point of our time away just happy to look and enjoy and be captivated by this and that in our view. It makes me think about how to explore in areas like this where there is so much. Hop on/off sightseeing can be a good overview, but we didn’t do that and rarely do these days. These tours can be good for seeing a lot in a shorter time, but lack the behind-the-scenes off-the-high-street flavour I love. A day somewhere is good only if you focus or have a goal, two days is less tiring, three is ideal or a good taste of what’s on offer. To really explore a month or three is ideal. I miss those longer visits to Torino and, of course, Toronto, La Habra. Will I have those days again?

At any rate this was Norwich so the final bit of our journey had to play out. Before we knew it, it was time for something to eat and get to the station on time. We walked down St George’s Street, trendy and filled with students and digital age types.

A little Norwich geography confusion happened when we realised we were close to not only Pottergate, but not far from St Benedict’s Street again. Suddenly I had that rare ‘putting the jigsaw puzzle together’ experience. Everything was right there.

The penultimate adventure was deciding to go to Haggle this time and again overstepping it, eventually making it through the door. It was full but they had room downstairs. We were alone down there and it was peaceful. We chose our menu items and then I routinely asked if there were green or red peppers in anything. The server went to check and came back with a marked menu – over half the menu was pepper-full, including all of our choices. We’d wanted the lamb tagine and were told ‘It’s just the nature of the cuisine.’ So we left, and I was unable to stop myself saying ‘I’ve had many tagines and never a pepper in one of them’ as I thanked him for his time. Authentic is as authentic does. Well, we weren’t going back to Farmyard, so we headed to the market again.

This was my first time inside the market. There are rows of places and most are for food, one after the other. We swept through and I noticed that Lucy’s had two fish and chips stands – were there more? Krish queued for ramen and I queued for dumplings, and we sat in front of the town hall and ate our final Norwich meal. If Delia is from here, we saw no sign of her, but we managed.

I’d sworn I would take a bus or cab to the station, while Krish would fetch the cases but instead we walked, finally more confident in directions. And off we went to the station and our train home.

The journey was smooth until we slowed down, then stopped. ‘Trespasser on the track,’ they announced. A slowy, stoppy bit later the trespasser was ‘apprehended, a mental health issue sadly.’ England is ‘funny’ like that.