Spontaneously deciding to have a couple of days away this week I headed to an area I'd never been to before, Camber Sands in East Sussex, combined with Rye and Hastings. Dubbed 1066 country the area is certainly very historical, but I was there to enjoy beach walks and explore hidden charms. Lured by superlative travel magazine editorial and an appealing website I booked to stay at The Gallivant hotel, with it's 'New England' style. High expectations are usually hard to live up to and this was the case, when I checked in to my 'coastal double' small but functional room which could have done with a fresh lick of paint and the light bulb replacing above the only chair. If you're after a relaxing break I'd suggest booking a 'coastal deluxe' or the beach hut room to give you more space. I'm probably being overly critical, but forget any romantic notion of a sea view - the front of the hotel overlooks the car park and back a housing estate.
Thankfully the sky cleared to provide enough glimpse of the sun to lift your spirits. I crossed the road and walked up over the dunes to reach the famous five-mile beach. The field of wind turbines behind the hotel should have been a warning sign of this being a blowy area and the sand whipping along the beach left my legs tingling. Undeterred and discarding my sandals, the soft sand felt surprisingly warm. Only a few hardy souls were braving the beach, but I walked along the sea's edge, my feet invigorated by the refreshing water. There's nothing like the uplifting boost of being in the elements and I returned to The Galliavant suitably ready for dinner. I wanted to try the sparkling Gusbourne Estate blanc de blancs, Appledore, Kent, described on the wine list as the English equivalent of Comtes de Champagne from Tattinger, but clearly everyone else chose that too as it was out of stock. Instead I had a glass of the Chapel Down Brut from Tenterden, also in Kent which was lovely. My choice from the blackboard of whole dover sole with brown shrimp butter, pink fir potatoes, and shredded cabbage was perfectly cooked, simple and delicious, accompanied by a glass of chilled unoaked French Chardonnay. Just a shame that dessert was a non-event (a shallow glass of rubbery rhubarb jelly with a teaspoon of raspberry ripple ice cream).
In addition to Camber Sands the Gallivant is well placed to visit Rye, only three miles away, where the restaurant at The George is certainly worth going to in conjunction with browsing the quaint shops and ancient architecture. You can stay at the George too...Next time I'll tell you about my experience of Hastings.
The beginning of July, high Summer and the promise of all that brings, but still not warm enough to shun my oh-so-English cardigan, even if the one I'm wearing today is a zingy lime green and fun to wear. Last weekend the weather was even more dire. Having ventured to East Wittering for a bracing walk by the sea I was virtually blown along like human flotsam and jetsam, by the type of penetrating wind that makes your ears throb. My zodiac sign being Cancer I am drawn to water as the place I need to go to connect with source. Whenever I need time to think it's my solace. Such vastness and the infinity of the horizon puts things in perspective. The churning sea spat out wetsuit clad adrenalin seekers on their surf boards; with faces in pinched expressions, all in pursuit of a few moments of bliss riding the whipped up waves before plunging into the foam. I watched mesmerised by their choice to embrace the elements and seek exhilaration. Whatever the weather I always enjoy being at the coast. To be by the sea and soak up the ozone's restorative effects never fails to refresh and invigorate me.
I am at heart a Summer person and ongoing grey skies and rain have a negative effect on me. Even though Professor Brian Cox in his stunning BBC Two series "Wonders of the Solar System" describes the huge benefit of rain cleansing the earth, I still crave warmth, blue skies and sunshine. Interestingly in her book 'Spiritual Wisdom', author Claire Montanaro talks about the significance of the year 2012 when astronomically the sun will align with the Milky Way galactic centre at the solstice on 21 December. Such a galactic alignment only happens once every 26,000 years. The Mayan calendar predicts both the alignment and a resulting change of human consciousness due to the completion of one era and the start of another. Claire's view is that the solstices in June and December and the time leading up to them will be significant..."The realignment of our planet will result in some earth changes, such as volcanic activity and flooding in places...Humanity is entering the 'pause' period now between the two cycles, evidence of these changes is clear already through extreme and disruptive weather patterns in different parts of the world." So we're in transition. Perhaps I needed reminding the experience of living on earth is amazing and who am I to be craving better weather. Happy month come rain or shine.
Humming 'la vie est belle' in my head whilst waiting for the 06.26 train to Waterloo, I seemed to be the only person wearing any colour on the station platform already busy with early commuters. Connecting to St Pancras and excitedly following the signs for Eurostar international departures, I was on my way to Paris just for the day, for lunch. Despite clear announcements advising passengers on the services currently open for check-in a stressed French woman impatiently pushed ahead trying to beat the queue, in such a rush but going nowhere slowly. Seething with frustration she swung her trolley on wheels around against the tide of travellers progressing through the security barriers. I'm sure psychologists must mine a vast wealth of research on human behaviour simply by observing people in transit. The cabaret had begun. Through in the busy departures hall a large group of young Americans were being coralled by their tour leader shouting instructions to 'huddle' which they did to such an effect as to block anyone elses path through the area. Struggling with their oversized luggage I was thankful to be travelling light. Having only a handbag felt rather decadent for a foray to Europe, albeit a short trip.
Having met my dear friend Jo for her special birthday celebration, we took our seats on the 08.31 Eurostar service and sped to Paris. A swift metro ride on arrival and we emerged into the sunshine of St-Germain to the sound of wonderful jazz floating through the air. An impromptu trio had set up on the pavement comprising double bass, drums and upright piano, which set the uplifting tone of our day. La vie truly is belle.
Straight into retail therapy we emerged from the delightful emporium of Laduree clutching their signature green and gold carrier bags with boxes of exquisite macaroons of flavour sensations ranging from rose to reglisse (liquorice), via salted caramel, to pistachio. Soaking up the atmosphere and browsing along rue Jacob we made our way to our lunch destination, Brasserie Lipp. A famous Paris institution this wonderful restaurant serves quintessential French favourites with a traditional flourish. Restored by a flute of champagne the menu did not require much consideration as I always order exactly the same main course there - brandade served with a green salad. Deceptively simple this dish of salt cod with mashed potato may sound bland, but is anything but. The light texture and satisfying taste are a revelation that I never venture beyond. Accompanied by a glass of chilled Sancerre I was happy and so was Jo with the same combination, having never tried brandade before. In true French style we chose cheese as the next course - a distinctive Hansi served with cumin seeds and a more familiar Brie de Meaux, served with the freshest of ficelle bread and unsalted butter, perfect with a glass of Bordeaux. Rather full the prospect of dessert was too much, even though the house speciality mille feuilles is legendary, as is the rum baba. Next time. A strong coffee was the perfect boost before an afternoon shopping along rue du Bac, culminating at the fabulous Bon Marche department store. Perhaps not many people go to Paris without seeing any of the sights, going to any of the galleries, or taking a bateaux mouches trip on the Seine, but I can't go to Paris without a visit to the impressive La Grande Epicerie food halls at Bon Marche. A gourmet paradise I limited my purchases on the basis everything had to be carried back on the train. The afternoon flew. A welcome cup of tea with the chance to sit and watch Paris go by and then it was time to return to the Gare du Nord.
Musing on the fact that life is what you make of it I then saw written on a shop window "c'est maintenant ou jamais"...it's now or never. The accolade may have been to promote the special discounts in store, but what a poignant reminder to make things happen, do what makes you happy and always make time for the people and places that are important to you. Time flies and so do the years. Have no regrets. La vie est belle.
Trumpet fanfares; gilded State coaches; pristine ceremonial uniforms; centuries of heritage and precisional planning contribute to create the fabulous pageantry that Britain does so well. As I write this with the television on in the background, crowds of people waving flags are gathering in the Mall and outside Buckingham Palace for the balcony appearance of the Queen and Royal family on the fourth day of the Diamond Jubilee celebrations. Truly an inspiration, the unique continuity provided by Her Majesty throughout her 60 year reign is awesome. In true English fashion the weather has been challenging, but our steadfast Queen Elizabeth II has carried on regardless. The huge energy, enthusiasm and patriotism of the British people supporting the occasion of the Diamond Jubilee has been incredible, but more so the uplifting reality of the Queen's dedication to her role. Claxons sounding and the roars of the crowd drew me back to watch the televised fly past. Impressive and moving to see.
Joining in my local neighbourhood party to mark the occasion on Sunday, I baked a traditional Victoria sponge decorated as the Union flag to share. Everyone loves cake and what a great sense of community to come together and enjoy honouring our Monarch in a time honoured way with afternoon tea. Long to reign over us, God Save The Queen.
I was going to call this post 'reasons to be cheerful' following the run of grey, wet weather lately, which seemed to have dampened everyones' spirits and then I went for a walk locally to where I live and was enchanted by seeing a rather glamorous duck with her six baby ducklings flitting along the stream in a beam of sunshine. Mill Road running along the side of Arundel Castle is a joy in all weathers, lined with tall majestic beech trees and displaying the wonders of nature in all her glory year round. Seeing the adorable little chicks chirping away as they explored their new home was so delightful. It made me realise we're surrounded by miracles every day, sometimes we just need to stop and appreciate them.
Another uplifting pleasure has been entertaining friends for dinner which gave me the excuse of baking something delicious for dessert. The best feelgood factor that chocolate always delivers is hard to beat, so I decided to make a dark chocolate roulade filled with black cherries soaked in kirsch, lots of whipped cream, black cherry conserve for added zing and extra shavings of Montezuma's plain chocolate for decoration. Illiciting responses of 'wow' I'm not sure who enjoyed the indulgence most, either my friends thinking they were in seventh heaven eating it, or me having the benefit of the aroma of baking filling the house and being in my own world preparing the treat. Everyone was happy and with the bonus of leftovers the following day.
I've since made a double batch of chocolate almond cupcakes as a thank you gift and also to take to another friend who has just left hospital; plus made lemoncurd which is a firm family favourite. So although I haven't ventured very far lately either for work or leisure, I have lots of exciting travel plans on the horizon to keep me in ancitipation of new directions ahead, but in the meantime have made the most of being somewhere I truly love to be, home.
The season of hope, new beginnings and the celebration of life, Spring ushers in an energy boost to raise spirits and with it the chance for reflection on the year's natural rhythm. My small courtyard garden is currently a joy of fresh growth, vivid shades of green and Spring flowers. A jug of cheerful "tete-a-tete" scented daffodils sits on my kitchen table. I feel invigorated after my annual Spring detox, a gentle regime to loose that bloated feeling of putting on a few extra pounds over Winter. Waistbands no longer feel tight and it's a relief to be comfortable again.
A natural time for de-cluttering Spring's a great time to have a sort out. You have to let go of the old in order to make way for the new to enter. Be realistic about what no longer suits your life and what you don't need. Simplify, streamline and enjoy the sense of clear space. Even being relatively tidy most of the time, I find those piles of magazines seem to multiply, full cupboards become ever denser, clothes that won't fit in wardrobes are packed away in spare suitcases and storing 'things that may come in useful' overflow into the garage and makes me realise I really do need to focus on taking stock of holding on to so many possessions. Combined with a vigorous session of Spring cleaning, the end result of which always gives pleasure far beyond the motivation needed to tackle the task in the first place, de-cluttering truly re-energises your home.
I've subsequently been pondering on simple pleasures and easy changes to implement that make a big difference to the quality of life, so to share these thoughts with you: Choose to spend time with people you find uplifting, not those you don't. Make the most of each day, wear clothes that make you feel fabulous, raise the effort to look your best. Be happy. It's a state of mind acquired by daily practise. Ring the changes, see things from a different perspective, take Spring's fresh new growth as inspiration to try something new yourself. Sow seeds for the harvest you'd like to reap in your own life as the year evolves. Breathe. Deeply. Smile and be thankful. Life is for living.
I've lapsed from writing my blog lately, no reason why and not for the lack of content, but as often happens in life the longer you leave doing something the harder it seems to become, even if the task is pleasurable. Today I'm back on track, although for a sad reason as an extremely dear and close friend has just passed away. It's her voice in my head encouraging me to just get on with it (infact giving me short shrift for procrastinating). So in loving memory of Sheila Scotter I'd like to share some thoughts as to why she has been such an amazing inspiration in my life and the privilege of knowing her will continue to influence me even in her absence.
Some people have incredible presence and Sheila was one of those, always dressed in her signature style of black and white. I first met her through mutual friends 20 years ago when I went to live in Melbourne, Australia, having embarked on the type of adventure one undertakes in one's twenties that just evolves. A Londoner by birth England was home and my original plan was to go to Sydney for a year to broaden my horizons. I never did get to live in Sydney but decided instead to go to Melbourne, even though I didn't know a soul there. Described to me as 'formidable but loving' Sheila lived up to their words and took me under her wing.
When I first knew her Sheila lived at 'The Stables' in Millswyn Street, South Yarra. Professionally decorated there was a beautiful small walled garden planted only with carefully chosen green shrubs and white flowers, lit at night to become a delightful feature bringing the outdoors in. Her subsequent home was my favourite of the two - a spacious, comfortable and chic apartment in the heart of Albert Park, Melbourne. Ideal for entertaining as Sheila was the perfect host, the table was always beautifully laid and thoughtful touches of things on display relevant to her guests' interests were complemented with stunning flowers. Having returned to the UK after my stint of living in Australia subsequently seeing Sheila on trips back over the years was always a highlight of my travels. Our friendship continued through cards and phone calls across the miles and I shall miss the sound of her voice. Even to the last, at the age of 91 her erudite advice and sharp observations had the same clarity of when I first met her.
Although Sheila's autobiography "Snaps, Secrets and Stories from my life" is widely known in Australia, not many people know of her earlier book "The Bedside Cookbook" - a fascinating collection of stories and recipes sourced through her own experiences of so many amazing people and places. Having had the pleasure of helping Sheila organise a couple of her renowned fundraising gala evenings in aid of causes close to her heart such as the Australian National Ballet, I learnt so much - particularly the impeccable timing of running an event, including after dinner speakers to keep to 'three minutes max' as her briefing notes stated (irrespective of whomever they were). Woe betide anyone who spoke for longer as they risked being admonished in front of the entire room of guests.
On Sheila's last trip to the UK I enjoyed a wonderful day taking her on a trip down memory lane to see her old school (St. Swithun's near Winchester, Hampshire) and for lunch in the New Forest, an area of her childhood that she loved. Sheila's loyalty to her friends, generosity and great sense of humour may not have been so apparent to those who didn't know her well. As Editor of Vogue Australia and founder of Vogue Living magazine Sheila truly blazed her own trail. Ever practical, Sheila told me she had planned her funeral service to the last, including her desire to have an eco-conscious woven casket and to be buried in her white silk dressing gown. Living on the other side of the world I'm so sorry that the distance means I won't be able to attend her funeral in Melbourne and pay my last respects in person. So Sheila, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being such an incredible friend and mentor. As you said to me when John Truscott passed away "I envy the angels". They are in for a treat. God Bless.
