Ordinary fool

Nicola and I took Ivy up to Audley End (swans and flowers), Kirby Hall (where Ivy looks like she owns the place), a farm near Ambergate on which Nigel and Melitta were staying (free-range hens to feed, friendly horses to pat), Wimpole Home Farm (animals behind fences, or perspex), and finally Duxford Air Museum (close up with aircraft large and small). Photos on Flickr.

Ivy's first holiday was up to Northumbria. A week beside Hadrian's Wall, returning via the Lake District. Joined the National Trust: a family membership of course. Lovely.

Photos here.

We paid an Easter visit to Loughborough to see Nigel and Melitta. Good company, beautiful weather, peaceful walks along the canal, and a day trip up to the Crich Tramway Museum.

In other news today, my old friend Mike and his partner Sarah had a baby girl this morning. Congratulations! We'll know what it's like soon enough; six weeks in fact. For those of you interested in seeing just how round Nicola has become, here are some photographs. Be sure to check out Flickr's new 'Map' link: now you can see exactly where the photo was taken.

On the way home from New Zealand we spent three nights in Hong Kong. A fantastic experience that I can't believe I put off this long.

In the middle of a frantic couple of weeks of socialising and conferencing back home in Wellington, Nicola and I took two days out out at Cape Palliser, the southernmost tip of the North Island.

We took a week on the Isle of Wight, in Portsmouth, Southampton and the New Forest for Nicola's birthday. Osbourne House and three castles later, we're finally making on our English Heritage membership.

Nicola and I fled to the Christmas markets in Heidelberg. We found glühwein (mit Schuss: Rum, Amaretto, Cointreau...), würstchen with sauerkraut, and postcard views of the Neckar river overlooked by the shell of the Heidelberg Schloß.

Thirty five. 

Nicola and I visited Woburn, Loughborough, Towcester and Wrest Park this long Bank Holiday weekend. Coincidentally, Nicola comes from the other Woburn in Lower Hutt, New Zealand. I don't want to start a war of comparisons... but this Woburn has its own deer park, wildlife safari, oyster festival (despite being miles from the sea), and resident duke (the Duke of Bedford). The pubs weren't too bad either.

Next day it was good to catch up with the old man in Loughborough. As you can see my Dad doesn't get a lot of visitors these days. The Loughborough region is scattered with fascinating relics of the industrial revolution. The landscape can be quite striking too, as you can see from the heather laden, volcanic crags of Warren Hill.

Surely Towcester should be pronouced "Towster", as Leicester is pronounced "Lester". Instead it's pronounced "Tossiter". After a night in the Saracen's Head, Towcester, we rounded off the weekend at an arts and crafts fair in the lovely grounds of Wrest Park. Pork pies, lemonade and lashings of ginger beer for lunch. Bank holidays are great. Hopefully this nonsense won't catch on.

Sharon is friend of mine from New Zealand. We go quite a long way back, to 1997 or so, and our relationship has survived some fairly torrid times mainly through our mutual interests in music and art (and maybe food). Sharon is over this way for a friend's wedding, but we caught up the other day. We grazed the National Gallery before crossing over to the South Bank to catch Shakespeare's Winter's Tale at the Globe Theatre. Wednesday was a beautiful, hot day. The stage overhang gave just enough shade for those of us in the £5 standing area. Great value, and highly recommended. As a "snapper-up of unconsidered trifles" I took a few photos; you can view them here.

Last weekend, Nicola and I took a rental car to Bristol, with Danielle and her new guy Mike, whom she met at The Church (that's another story better told by Danielle).

On the way down the M4 we stopped off in the village of Bray to read the menu of The Fat Duck. Michelin voted The Fat Duck the world's best restaurant in 2001. The waiting list is four months long. The set lunch menu, without wine, sets you back £97.50 per person (written out "ninety seven pounds fifty" as if to underline its extravagance). Maybe on my birthday. Needless to say we ate scampi and chips at the local pub instead.

All I really knew about Bristol was that it sported a fabulous old suspension bridge designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel. I had no idea it was such a gorgeous town. We had a great night out in the regenerated dockside, a blissful breakfast of fish 'n' chips with Cornish caviar (mushy peas) beside the Severn, followed by a lovely Sunday walking over the bridge and through the parks of Clifton. It was beautifully sunny. All this confirmed Bristol as a place to return to with a bit more time.

Unfortunately, that weekend, I left what any photographic talent I have back in London; here are the results anyway.