A walk around Greenwich ...

Greenwich is a staggering place. If you come to visit London, you really ought to bend your footsteps down in that direction. There’s just sooooo much to see. Would you like to come and take a stroll around with me and Maxi-the-wonder-dog?

Royal Naval College, Greenwich

Travel along to the Cutty Sark DLR station, stop, disembark, and follow the signs to go take a look at the most famous tea clipper of them all: the Cutty Sark.

Cutty Sark, Greenwich

I have to say, at the risk of being controversial, that the new visitor centre looks a bit weird ... kind of like the ship got swept out of the river on a great big wave that's left it marooned on the roof of somebody's greenhouse. See what I mean? They've raised the old girl 3 metres off the ground so that you can walk underneath her. Aesthetically speaking, I'm not convinced that this was worth the candle. I much preferred to see her sitting at a normal elevation so that she looked like a proper ship, and you could run around on deck and feel like a sailor rather than a trapeze artist at the circus.

Cutty Sark, Greenwich

Still she's looking good after everything that life's thrown at her. Do you remember how she almost got burnt to a cinder back in 2007? It took them 5 years to get her sorted out after that little disaster, but I have to say hats off to them; they've done her proud.

She was launched on Monday, 22nd November 1869 as a tea clipper. Way back then there was race every year to get the first consignment of the new tea crop back to London. Even though I'd hate to spend months of my life cramped up in a floating tea-crate, I'm still a little bit in love with the idea of other people sailing these elegant tea clippers, their sails full of the trade winds, as they raced one another across the seas, laden with aromatic teas from the distant East.

Later in her career the Cutty Sark also carried wool from Australia, and in 1885 she set a record passage time of just 73 days from Sydney to London. What an epic voyage that must have been, back in the days when most folk still believed in sea monsters and mermaids.

Next stop is the Thames Foot Tunnel.

Up ahead there's a curious little building sitting on the river bank that looks like it might have been designed to star-gaze from.

Greenwich foot tunnel

Well it wasn't: that's the entry to the Greenwich foot tunnel, which will take you under the river to emerge on the Isle of Dogs, where you get the very best views of Greenwich. 

I'm not mad about the tunnel. Don't get me wrong: I think it's a marvellous thing to be able to cross the river without needing to hail a passing ship or go for a swim. It's just that I'm not mad about tunnels, especially tunnels that go under rivers with millions of gallons of water flowing past overhead. Call me weird, but that gives me a serious dose of the heebie jeebies. Maybe if I lived on the Isle of Dogs ... and kept wanting to escape across the river to wonderful Greenwich I'd get used to it.

Greenwich foot tunnel

See they've even got a dinky little matching house on the other side to come up in. 

Anyway, we swing a right on the river bank and hoof along to the old Royal Naval College, pausing at Greenwich pier to cast an eye across the river and admire the lovely boats. I should add that the last day we passed this way they were holding the Tall Ships Festival, so it was even more picturesque than normal.

Ah yes, you can keep your dank, smelly tunnels under the river: this is much more my cup of tea. The Tall Ships Festival is held every year. It makes for a great day out with lots of action on the river and lots of stuff happening on shore too. 

The Old Royal Naval College is hard to miss. Let's put it like this: it's a world-class masterpiece designed by Sir Christopher Wren when he'd got through with designing cathedrals and the like. It opens onto the river and is quite simply splendid.

Royal Naval College, Greenwich

I suggest we take a stroll up through the cloisters and around the enclosed courtyards. 

Royal Naval College, Greenwich

It has the feel of one of the better-endowed Oxbridge colleges. 

Royal Naval College, Greenwich

 These days it acts as the campus for the University of Greenwich. Once upon a time it was the site of  Greenwich Palace, where both Henry VIII and Elizabeth I were born. Sadly the old Tudor palace was demolished, bit by bit, to make way for Wren's masterpiece. It's a pity they didn't shuffle the Naval College along the river bank a bit, and let both buildings stand. Can you imagine how marvellous that would that have been?

Royal Naval College, Greenwich

Whilst we're here we really ought to check out the chapel and the sumptuous painted banqueting hall. This is where things can get a bit tricky as the attendants tend to object to Maxi-the-wonder-dog coming inside. So he has to be stealthily smuggled past them in an out-sized handbag. The plan usually works well ... unless and until he's overcome by one of his barky fits ... . Then we tend to get thrown out pretty quickly. The acoustics in these places make a squeaky little mini schnauzer sound like a lion. This delights Maxi-the-wonder-dog, but tends to frighten all the nice tourists upon whom everyone depends for a living, hence our speedy exit.

Royal Naval College, Greenwich

When we stopped by the chapel last time there was a service in progress so we weren't allowed to take photos, which was fair enough.

Royal Naval College, Greenwich

Now we need to walk on down to the river bank again and follow it along to our right (walking away from the Cutty Sark). Soon we'll come to a top-notch watering hole called the Trafalgar Tavern, which has been there since the year good Queen Vic ascended the throne (1837). It's got great riverfront views, lovely oak panelling and first-class tucker.

Trafalgar Tavern, Greenwich

Around the back of the Trafalgar we'll find Crane Street, a little street that will lead us back to the river again; we can't walk along in front of the Trafalgar as it faces directly onto the water. 

Crane Street, Greenwich

There's something about Crane Street. It's a pretty little alleyway that seems lost in time. 

Crane Street, Greenwich

As we emerge we see the power station with the lovely little clock tower of the Trinity Hospital Almshouses nestling in its shadow.

Trinity Hospital Almshouses, Greenwich

The power station here in Greenwich used to belch out smoke as they burned coal to generate electricity. You can still see the landing jetty where the coal barges discharged their cargoes and hauled away all the tonnes of ash and cinders that were produced. Today the power station is far from obsolete. Despite being over a hundred years old it still operates as a back up power source for the London Underground. These days it burns gas and oil, which is transported by lorry.

Rubble Quay, Greenwich Power Station

It's quite a brutal contrast to the elegant lines of the almshouses, but we like to show you the wonderful contrasts that make this great city of ours so vibrant. 

Greenwich Power Station

Now we need to retrace our steps back to the Old Royal Naval College and walk along the side of the building (Park Row) and cross Romney Road, where we turn right and walk along until we see the National Maritime Museum. This is a great place in which to while away several hours, and should be borne in mind as a potential refuge if the heavens open.

National Maritime Museum, Greenwich

I suggest we walk off to the side of the museum in the direction of the Queen's House, which sits proudly to the left of the museum with a commanding view directly down to the river across the pavilions of the Old Royal Naval College.

Queen's House, Greenwich

This was once the home of Ann of Denmark, wife and Queen Consort of King James I. James is reported to have given the manor of Greenwich to Ann as a making-up present when he needed to grovel and say sorry to her for having sworn at her in public. Poor old Ann apparently shot his favourite hunting dog by accident, which produced a right royal hissy fit and a bit of matrimonial strife.

Mollified by the gift, Ann commissioned Inigo Jones to design a little get-away pad, and the Queen's House was built between 1616 and 1619. 

The old Tudor palace in front was gradually pulled down to make way for the present buildings. When Sir Christopher Wren was given the brief to design the Royal Naval College Queen Mary II stipulated that he must not construct anything that would impede the view from the Queen's House looking down to the river. This is the reason why the Naval College was designed with a large break in the middle of its facade that perfectly frames the Queen's House behind. 

The colonnades to either side of the Queen's House were added in the early nineteenth century.

Today it holds a notable collection of maritime paintings, and is another first-class refuge from the weather should things turn nasty. Of especial note in this regard is its wonderful cafe, where they do very pucker afternoon teas, which are a real challenge/ total disaster for those of us trying to follow a low-carb diet.

Now we need to walk round to the back of the Queen's House and enter Greenwich Park. We should cast a glimpse across of the largest ship in a bottle that I've ever seen, which sits just behind the National Maritime Museum. Originally it was exhibited on the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square. It's by Yinka Shonibare MBE, and the ship inside is a replica of Nelson's flagship, HMS Victory.

Yinka Shonibare's ship in a bottle, National Maritime Museum, Greenwich

Now we're going to head up the Avenue towards the Royal Observatory, sitting on the shoulder of Observatory Hill. As you climb the hill the view down to the river just keeps getting better and better. 

Greenwich from Observatory Hill 

At the top we'll find the Royal Observatory, where they've got the Greenwich Meridian marked across the forecourt. 

Royal Observatory, Greenwich

Have you ever wondered what that big red ball on the roof was for? Well it's the Greenwich Time Ball. It was the one of the earliest public time signals. At 12:55 every day (unless it's too windy), the ball rises half way up the pole. At 12:58 it goes all the way to the top, and <gasp> at 13:00 it falls to the bottom of the pole again so that everyone who's watching will know the time. And way back before everyone had their own clock if you weren't paying close attention to the Time Ball, and only looked up at 13:03 ... well, that was just too bad, you'd just have to wait until the following day to have your chance of knowing exactly what time it was! Personally I think it was all a bit cuckoo: what they really needed was a very loud fog horn, with its own unique note, to announce the time, but there you go, that's mad scientists for you.

Inside they have a great collection of clocks and chronometers. John Harrison's original chronometer has pride of place.

Now we turn down over the other side of Observatory Hill, walking away from the Wolfe statue and the Royal Observatory, following the signs for Queen Elizabeth's Oak, which is actually an old Chestnut tree. They believe it started out in life way back in the twelfth century. So, by the time of Queen Elizabeth I, it was a magnificent specimen. Good Queen Bess is said to have enjoyed a picnic sitting in its shade. It was also a favourite with her parents. According to local legend King Henry VIII and Queen Anne Boleyn danced round the tree in the early days of their relationship when they were still happy together and infatuated with one another. 

Queen Elizabeth's Oak Tree, Greenwich Park

They think that the tree died in the nineteenth century, but continued to stand upright, thanks to the strength of the ivy vines growing around its trunk. Sadly a terrible storm back in 1991 brought it crashing to the ground. 

Maybe it's not much of a spectacle, but its history always thrills me and fires my imagination every time I walk past.

Now we need to keep on going and we'll come to the site of an old Romano Celtic temple. There's a great big sign, showing you how it used to look. 

I think this is the spot (photo below - flat, higher bit on the left hand side), but then again there isn't a whole lot of evidence on the ground. At least this is the spot they've sign-posted, but, as neither Maxi-the-wonder-dog nor I know a whole lot about Romano Celtic temples, it's entirely possible that we've photographed the wrong place.  In which case this is just a photo of a pretty hill in Greenwich Park where lots of people come to walk their dogs!

If we carry on walking to the park's Maze Hill gate we'll see Vanbrugh's Castle on the other side of Maze Hill Road.

Vanburgh's Castle, Greenwich Park

It's a tricky place to get a decent photograph of at this time of the year as all the foliage seems to get in the way. It was originally built by John Vanburgh the architect of Blenheim Palace and Castle Howard who also moonlighted in the theatre. It's definitely got a hint of the theatrical about it. 

Now we need to follow the hill down to the Naval College and the Cutty Sark, or, if we have the time and the energy, there's the Fan Museum at 12 Crooms Hill. The house in which the fans live is a beautiful building dating from 1721 and is worth taking a look at for its own merit even if you've got no great interest in the fans.

Enjoy!

All the best,

Bonny x
As shared on Friday Finds and imag-in-ing

Password Vault

Last weekend my life was transformed; something miraculous happened over here at Talk-a-Lot-Towers. 

 

In the old days - i.e. before the weekend - I used to spend hours fiddling around trying to remember my passwords. And let’s face it everything needs a password these days: Facebook, Twitter, your bank, your mobile phone account, Moonpig if you want to order a birthday card … and so the list goes on.

 

My system for password control - pre-miracle - involved a muddled collection of post-its, notebooks and arcane prompts, cunningly written in such a cryptic fashion that, when I came back to them, I could never figure out what I’d been on about in the first instance. As a result I spent a lot of my time feeling mildly bad-tempered and hopelessly locked out of my own systems. 

 

Then I’d get worn down with not using the same password for everything so that my passwords became an impossible exercise in playing with a theme and remembering what the difference was from one account to another. T-e-d-i-o-u-s. I was getting tied up in so many knots. The one person that my security was defeating was the person whom it was supposed to be protecting. 

 

Anyway, I moaned to my good friend Akie - over one of his very splendid barbecue lunches - about my problems. He listened sympathetically, as a good friend would, and then suggested I try an app called pwSafe to keep all my passwords nice and secure on my computer. 

 

And bingo! Geronimo! My life was transformed by one simple app. It’s brilliant. You just record all your passwords in the vault, and then, when you click on each separate account, it takes you right through and logs you in. Marvellous! The only password I need now is the one to get me into the password vault … which is still a challenge … duh! ... but much less of a challenge than before. 

You can find it here: pwSafe

 

So far it’s been a genius solution to all my woolly-headed password problems. Thank you Akie!

 

All the best,

 

Bonny x

The River's Tale, (Prehistoric) by Rudyard Kipling

Emi's working hard on a history assignment for school. He's got to write down some interesting facts about pre-historic Britain. Then he has to illustrate his findings; his pictures must be carefully drawn with nice, neat colouring in. 

I'm wondering if he copied out Kipling's poem and drew a few of those bat-winged lizard birds and mammoth herds, with nice, neat colouring in, whether that might tick the box.

All the best for now,


Bonny x

Princess Caroline's bath ... abandoned for all the world to see in Greenwich Park ...

I had to pop down to Greenwich on Monday to visit an old chum. Now it has to be said: I LOVE Greenwich. I'm a north-of-the-river, west-end-of-town sort of girl, but I could forget all of my prejudices to go and live in Greenwich tomorrow. It totally rocks!

Old Naval College, Greenwich

As it happens this week I've also been researching Princess Caroline of Brunswick, one time Princess of Wales, Queen Consort to King George IV and Ranger of Greenwich Park. You may have read my post earlier in the week about her great defender Spencer Perceval, who lived just around the corner from me in Ealing.

Caroline, born a Princess of Brunswick, came to England to marry George without ever having set eyes on him before. That was how it was often done back then. Unfortunately, as luck would have it, curmudgeonly old George couldn't stand the sight of her. He told everyone that she was a total minger, with some acute personal hygiene issues, and refused to have anything more to do with her after they'd consummated their union.

Now Caroline was, admittedly, far from being an angel, but in my book she deserves some serious respect for standing up for herself in an age when girls generally weren't encouraged to give as good as they got. A lot has been written about how the whole women's rights movement started with her. For my part I think that's a wild exaggeration. Caroline didn't dally much in the finer details of political philosophy and universal suffrage, and I suspect her refusal to capitulate had more to do with natural obstinacy and the confidence in her position that came from having been born a princess. Even a couple of centuries earlier high born women from powerful dynastic families, such as Catharine of Aragon and Anne of Cleeves, tended to fare rather better than their contemporaries of more humble birth, such as Anne Boleyn and Catharine Howard.

Royal Observatory, Greenwich

Caroline was a lively girl who enjoyed huge popularity with the common people, a bit of a Queen of  Hearts if you like. Grumpy old George on the other hand was pretty much universally disliked. Both of them, however, suffered from a general difficulty in making ends meet. And in a bid to help her meet her overheads Caroline was made Ranger of Greenwich Park.

The Docklands and Canary Wharf from Greenwich Park

The Prince of Wales had been persuaded that Greenwich would be a salubrious environment in which to bring up their little daughter, Princess Charlotte, and had taken a lease over Montague House, which bordered the park in 1798. Caroline moved in and set about creating her own alternative court. It was by all accounts a lively, jolly sort of a place, although rumours circulated about orgies and all manner of inappropriate behaviour that allegedly took place within its grounds.

Greenwich Park

In 1807 Caroline's mum, Augusta, the Dowager Duchess of Brunswick moved in next door in what is now known as the Ranger's House. She was also the sister of George III, Caroline's father-in-law, who was also her uncle. It was all just a little bit incestuous way back then.

Augusta appears to have been a rather frosty, disapproving character with whom Caroline didn't always see eye to eye.

The Ranger's House, Greenwich Park

Now I'd like to think that mother and daughter (and even grandma) may have enjoyed some happy hours romping around in the grounds, which are truly spectacular with their splendid old trees ...

Greenwich Park

... and the little woodland creatures who live in them.

Neglected by her husband Caroline kept herself busy with a succession of ill-advised affairs and some solid home-improvements. She extended the house, building a glass conservatory. They were all the rage. And this one connected rather splendidly with the blue room, the principal entertaining room in the house. She enclosed 6 hectares (15 acres) of the park as her personal garden, and had it planted with pretty flowers for her and her little daughter to enjoy. At the risk of stating the obvious, all these things cost money, quite a lot of money in fact.

The Rose Garden, Greenwich Park

Which led her to examine all the ways in which she could make as much money as possible out of being the Ranger of Greenwich Park. She'd done rather nicely leasing a property to the Royal Naval College, and so fell upon the idea of serving notice on her other existing tenants around the park with a view to letting out their properties at inflated rents to some new naval tenants.

The Rose Garden, Greenwich Park

Amongst this group of neighbour-tenants were Sir John and Lady Douglas. The Douglases had been friends - of a sort - up until that point. When the goings on at Montague House had gotten a bit out of hand Caroline had worried that they might spread rumours about her at Court, and so she had engaged in a bit of a one-woman guerrilla campaign of her own spreading unflattering rumours about them and generally trying to discredit them.

Noses were already a little bit out of joint, but when the notice to quit arrived it was the last straw. The Douglases were now very firmly in the Prince of Wales's camp, and Lady Douglas got her own back by informing him about all the dastardly goings-on down at Montague House. She was the principal witness in the ensuing Parliamentary inquiry into the Princess's allegedly adulterous conduct, which you can read a little more about here: the Delicate Investigation.

The Rose Garden, Greenwich Park

Caroline was acquitted of the central charges, but was still largely excluded from Court at the behest of her estranged husband. She would have loved nothing more than to have returned to her native Brunswick, but Europe was at that stage in the throes of the Napoleonic Wars, Brunswick had been overrun by the French and her father had been killed in the battle of Jena-Auerstadt. 

Perhaps the very worst bit of all for Caroline was being denied access to her daugther. During the inquiry Caroline was not allowed to see the little princess at all and, after its conclusion, she was only allowed to see her once a week, and even then those visits had to be supervised by her mother. 

The Rose Garden, Greenwich Park

I imagine that she must have wandered around in the Park on many a day with a heavy heart, feeling certain that all the world was against her. 

Then in 1814 Napoleon was finally defeated. People could once again think of going to visit mainland Europe without having to worry about getting caught up in a war. And so, on 8th August, 1814, Princess Caroline boarded the frigate HMS Janson, bound for the Continent.

The Rose Garden, Greenwich Park

Of course, she had her fun ... and she was terribly indiscreet. Rumours drifted back to England of how she was cavorting around Europe with a chain of paramours ... .

In 1815 in a huge fit of pique the Prince of Wales ordered that Montague House be knocked down, razed to the ground as though by obliterating her former home he might wipe away all trace of the wife he loathed, and from whom he wished to be separated forever.

The Ranger's House and the  Rose Garden, Greenwich Park

The house was officially surveyed and held (very conveniently for George) to be beyond repair. An auction of its parts took place from 11th to 14th September, 1815 during which the fabric of the building, its roof tiles, the bricks, the timbers, the floorboards and its various fixtures and fittings were sold off to the highest bidder. Montague House was dismantled and its parts carried away. The land and the Princess's gardens were then re-absorbed back into the Park.

And, by the time they'd finished, all that remained of the former royal residence was a pagoda-style hunting lodge (still standing today in nearby Pagoda Gardens), a wall and the princess's bath.

Over the years the princess's bath got filled in and became a flower bed, but it was excavated, back at the turn of the millennium, and can now be seen in all its (not very spectacular) glory.

Princess Caroline's bath, Greenwich Park

A plaque announces that the bath and the section of wall behind it are all that remain of the Princess's old home. 

It doesn't look much today, but back in Caroline's day her bath would have been the height of domestic chic. It was housed in a bath house built of light lattice and glass, separate from the main body of her residence, but accessed via a covered walkway. It was the equivalent of having a luxury jacuzzi/ swimming pool complex today. And no doubt the Princess was adept at throwing the very best pool parties of the Regency.

In 1995 they also replanted the rose garden in front of the old Ranger's house, and perhaps this is the best memorial to Caroline's time in residence. She was known to have been a keen gardener, and I have no doubt that if she could wander through those rose bushes in the sunshine, as I did on Monday, her heart would sing with delight at the simple beauty of their perfect petals bathed in the warm sunlight of a balmy September day.

All the best for now,

Bonny x

And if you'd like to see some more spectacular English gardens, why not check out:

Stowe, Buckinghamshire

Tresco Abbey, Isles of Scilly

The Gardens of Heligan, Cornwall

Osterley Park, West London

Chiswick House, West London