Daytripper

When I told my workmates we were heading up to Liverpool for the weekend, they said I must be looking for a reason to leave the UK. Apparently the city doesn't have the nicest reputation in Britain.

Maybe the reputation was deserved back in the '80s, when the only good thing about the city was the all-conquering football team. But not now. Liverpool was European Capital of Culture last year, it's had some serious money poured into making it look good.

The Liver Building. Legend has it that if the statues of birds on top fly off, the city will fall.

As Liverpool is a port town - once one of the world's most important - the main attractions are by the sea. We particularly liked the Merseyside Maritime Museum, which had lots on three great doomed ships that sailed from there (the Titanic, the Lusitania and the Empress of Ireland), the Battle of the Atlantic and, commendably, history of slavery and how Liverpool benefitted from it.Sarah, Lauren and Erica hanging out by the docks

Liverpool's not just famous for the port and football though. There's the small matter of a mop-topped band who had a few hits back in the '60s.

Though we avoided doing a Beatles tour, we did wade through some of the Beatles tat (as The Sound of Music is to Salzburg, so are The Beatles to Liverpool) and did the other obligatory musically-touristy thing in Liverpool.

Ferry, cross the Mersey

So the next time someone tells you Liverpool is rubbish - don't believe them. Any city that's been home to Gerry and the Pacemakers, Fernando Torres and John Lennon is definitely worth a day trip.

Roots, part two

Having retraced some of my roots on Dad´s side up in Scotland, a couple of weeks later Lauren and I did the same with Mum´s family. Her dad, Jack, was born in Ilkley in Yorkshire and moved out to New Zealand with his family when he was just 14.

Ilkley is also the birthplace of Barbara, an aunt who has gathered a wonderfully large amount of information about the genealogy of our family. She, her husband George, daughter Jodie and partner Mike were superb hosts for us and took us on a tour of the town.

Picnic in an Ilkley park.

This being a part of the world famous for the Industrial Revolution, when the area was filled with cotton mills, I was expecting Ilkley to somewhat grim. It was the complete opposite. Having been a fashionable spa town it is filled with big Victorian houses and leafy trees, and with the surrounding moors covered in wild flowers it is a lovely place. I was thrilled to see that some of the buildings connected to my ancestors were more or less the same.

The excellent wine shop that used to be the furniture store of my great grandad, joiner Arthur Baynes.

The house grandad Jack was born in.

It was a real pleasure and a privilege to be there, as it had been to go to Alloa. But though I enjoyed seeing where my ancestors came from, I did not feel any kind of connection to the places. It reminds me that while decades ago New Zealanders still called Britain Home, my heart will always lie in the South Pacific.

Not that I would not love to spend more time with those good people up North!

Roots, part one

Back in the early part of the 20th Century my ancestors, like so many people from Great Britain, packed their bags, said goodbye to their families (often for good) and headed off on the long voyage to their new homes. Seeing where the Aikmans and Bayneses came from has always been one of the must-do things for me and in the last month we've done it.

First up was Alloa, the Scottish town where my great-grandfather William Aikman was born. It was a thriving industrial port at the time and though the glory days have gone, it is still a nice place. Very much a typical working class British town, with a mix of pubs, Indian takeaways, pretty old Victorian buildings and the ubiquitous chain stores - WH Smith, Boots and the rest.

Downtown Alloa

The countryside is pleasant too. It's similar to the Waikato, with low hills, plains and lots and lots of green grass. However, it's also where the Lowlands end. Just north of the town is the steep edge of the Highlands. This is the area - near Stirling, the chokepoint of Scotland and site of many battles - the Aikmans come from.

We went to the Alloa library, where a super-helpful librarian dug into the files and found a bunch of interesting information. They're very well set-up for genealogy requests here, as clearly there's a lot of us colonials retracing their roots. I imagine a lot of them hope to find a king, famous warrior or at least a ruined castle in their background. What we found when we went looking for the area where William Aikman grew was a car park, motorway, petrol station and supermarket.

An Asda, but not a castle in sight.

On the bright side, in Edinburgh's Scottish National Gallery I was gobsmacked to find a portrait by a different William Aikman - a famous painter. So there's some glamour in those roots after all.

Cathy! Heathcliff!

I think that Wuthering Heights is one of the best books ever written. Given my love for the book, I was very excited to go to Yorkshire last weekend to see where the book was set, where the Brontes lived, and do a walk through in the Moors.

Picnic in the Moors

I was not disappointed - Yorkshire is lovely and our hosts there were awesome . The highlight of the weekend for me though was doing an excellent walk through the Moors, trying to imagine Heathcliff and Cathy being dysfunctional and selfish (as they are for 99% of the book), and getting some sun. It was also great to finally get the walking boots out again, due to a series of injuries combined with bad weather and laziness they had gathered dust ever since last summer.

The house that inspired Heathcliff's Home of Dysfunction in Wuthering Heights.

After walking through the Moors we visited the parsonage where the Brontes lived - and most of them died - which has been turned into an excellent house museum (see photo below). The house told the tragic story of the Bronte's in a way that left me feeling very sad for them, especially seeing the sofa Emily died on. It made me even sadder for the countless other families that probably suffered similar fates that have been completely forgotten on account of not having written works of genius themselves.
Anyone that loves Wuthering Heights should visit the Yorkshire Moors at least once in their lives, it's a fabulous place and might even be the inpiration for you to write a novel to be considered one of the best ever!

It's not grim up north

Lauren and I have just come back from a fantastic weekend in Yorkshire, where we stayed with my relatives George and Barbara Carter, and travelled with their daughter Jodie and her partner Mike. They were the most wonderful hosts imaginable and, with the British weather finally coming to the party, we all had a great time wandering around the moors, eating lots of yummy food and drinking nice wine. We'll blog about it in more detail later, so for now I'll just post some photos.

The Yorkshire moors

Mike clambering up The Calf on Ilkley Moor
Above Ilkley, where my grandad was born. Check out the Victorian graffiti carved into the rocks.

A delicious dinner at the Carters' house.

Highlander

I've wanted to see the Highlands since as long as I can remember - certainly from when I first saw Sean Connery swinging his sword around the place in the movie Highlander. Then Braveheart made me hungrier. So on our Scotland trip I was determined to spend a good few days getting away from civilisation and travelling around the lochs and mountains.

Loch Torridon

We picked up a car in Inverness but - almost disastrously - on the way to the car hire place, Lauren (and her 20kg of packs) slipped on a battery and twisted her ankle. She could barely walk once it swelled up. Luckily she had lots of good books so didn't get too bored when I went out wandering, such as to the awesome Old Man of Storr on the Isle of Skye.

The Old Man, which appeared suddenly and rather creepily out of the mist.

We'd been warned about two things for the Highlands - the weather and the midges. And sure enough, the weather was a schizophrenic mix of sun, gloom and pouring rain - I think it changed about six times on the way down Loch Ness to Skye. Sadly the clouds rarely lifted from the top of the peaks. Then there were the midges. The weather meant we didn't go camping as we'd hoped, but we did get our experiences with them. I hopped out of the car to take a photo in the middle of some spectacular scenery, took a couple of photos, then noticed a tiny, fruit fly sized insect trying to suck my blood. I turned and saw he'd brought a few dozen friends. I jumped back inside the car and in a few seconds the door was open, about six came in with me. Midges are scary. You could see them rising out of the grass when we went walking near a loch.

Despite the dodgy weather and biting beasties, it was really good trip. A lot of people say Scotland is like New Zealand and it's true. The lakes, glacier carved valleys and steep, bare mountains reminded me of the central South Island, the high plateaus were like the Desert Road, while the winding, one lane roads and tiny towns on the coast were like being back on the East Coast (minus maraes). If you like the wilderness, I highly recommend the Highlands - though be warned Kiwis, they might make you homesick!

A Symphony in Grey

There are some cities that you never hear a bad review of. There are people who don't like London or Wellington, or even Paris. But, like Vancouver or San Francisco, I've never heard a bad word said about Edinburgh. So when we visited it had high expectations to live up to. It didn't disappoint.

Edinburgh: photogenic

I'd read the city called a symphony in grey, which sums up both its colour and the beauty. Built on volcanic remains, central Edinburgh is all grand grey buildings, winding grey alleyways and old pubs. And smack in the middle of the city is this wonderful piece of wilderness, Arthur's Seat.

From the castle, perched on cliffs on three sides, down the splendid, tourist tat-filled Royal Mile to Holyrood Palace, and beyond, the city is just gorgeous.

Holyrood Palace, where the heavily pregnant Mary Queen of Scots saw her husband stab her secretary to death.

Is there a city with something comparable to this mix of beautiful buildings, fascinating history, cosmopolitan atmosphere and spectacular nature? Vancouver and Wellington have the setting and the atmosphere, but not the history or the buildings. London, Paris, Berlin, Rome and the other great European cities I have seen have the past, the architecture and buzz (and all more so in one way or another), but not the scenery. Same for Washington DC and New York. Perhaps the closest are Luang Phrabang in Laos and Luxembourg City, but they feel more like towns than cities.

I don't think anything will match the love I have for Wellington and London, the sense of ownership you get when you live somewhere very, very cool, but I would definitely have to rank Edinburgh near the top of all the cities I've visited.

So what your favourite cities and why?

This photo isn't really related to anything, but isn't it brilliant? Go Lauren!

A note on Glasgow

Glasgow is, I have decided, one of the strangest places I have visited in all my travels. First, everyone talks like they have a mouth full of haggis. Second, it is a truly Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde town. During the day, Glasgow has a great vibe. People are smiling, the streets are busy and Tane and I were amazed by just how handsomely Victorian the centre city is. There are also excellent parks, a pretty river, and the best noodle bar I've been to in years.

The Clyde

At 6pm, though, it's as if someone flicked a switch and all of a sudden Glasgow felt feral and intimidating. Rough-looking groups of young men prowl the streets, teenagers cluster in packs to drink their 6-packs. We went to two bars in Glasgow - one had a punching machine surrounded by men eager to demonstrate just how hard they could punch, and in the other I had beer spilt on me. I didn't take any photos of Glasgow in this state to show I am afraid - as it was I was worried enough that Tane carrying the Lonely Planet would get us mugged.

Hanging in the square, unaware that the city would transform in less than two hours

The next day, though, it was a lovely city again and I am glad that I have visited. I was glad, though, that we had planned to leave before 6pm fell again!

Scotland - a taster

Tane and I have just returned from a fabulous eight days in Scotland. We had a great time - tried haggis, drove around the Highlands, got lost, found ourselves in the middle of no-where and saw the most spectacular scenery I've seen since New Zealand. I am far too lazy to blog about it at length just yet, but will leave these photos as a taster of a few iconic Scottish things we saw ...

A random marching band in Inverness

Culloden Battlefield
A frightening Highland cow that I would not want to bump into by mistake
Loch Ness (and a monster)
Tane contemplates his last day of being 30 at Torridon

Mont St Michel vs St Michael's Mount

It's the battle of the English Channel, the contest between two champion tourist destinations. The prize? The prestigious title of Coolest Tidal Island Monastery/Mansion/Fortress Reached By Causeway What Lauren And Tane Saw On A Bank Holiday In May (yes, this entry is waaaaaaaaaaay overdue - I'm a slacker, what can I say).

In one corner is Cornwall's finest, St Michael's Mount, home to a posh old family who chose the right side in the Civil War, lovely terraced gardens, a bunch of retired cannons and a collection of various other cool old weapons.

Cornish flag flying over the battlements. Keep away from our pasties, ye swine!

In the other corner is the pride of Brittany and/or Normandy (it's right on the border of the two French provinces), Mont St Michel. Home to security-conscious monks and sellers of overpriced baguettes, set in the middle of an enormous tidal harbour where they say the sea comes in faster than you can run and capped by a stunning fortified monastery, it's famous for good reason.

Columns by the monastery's garden

It's a tight contest. Both places have exceptionally cool architecture and great views. But despite St Michael's Mount getting bonus points for having seals, many fewer visitors and a lovely chilled atmosphere, we have to give the title to Mont St Michel. It's just bloody magnificent.

And best of all, I could release my inner toddler and go out and play in the magnificent ...

... mud!

So, the original Mike Mountain is still the reigning champ. But do go to both islands if you're even remotely close to them.

Coming up at some point in the future, our favourite UK weekend destination the Isle of Wight vs the ominous smoking lump on Bay of Plenty's horizon, White Island. Green-hilled, historic retirement home vs deadly active volcano. Place your bets.

Appuldurcome House

Since living in London I have seen so many awesome old buildings that if I were to write about them all I would have to change the name of this blog to "Ye Olde Home and Garden" or some such. While on the Isle of Wight last weekend though we saw one old house so interesting I am inspired to give it its very own blog entry - Appuldurcome House.

The house from the front, looking deceptively like a house without a gutted interior

You can read about the history of it here, but the upshot is that the house was abandoned after the War and what remains now are the most delightfully creepy ruins I've ever seen. The house is intact enough to see what the rooms were once used for, but ruined enough to give it a mournful and solitary air.

The house from the back

We had a great time exploring and imagining what the house must have once been like. When an old house is full of furniture it often feels like a museum rather than a place where people actually lived. That wasn't the case at all with Appuldurcome.

While on the Island we also visited Queen Victoria's home, Osbourne House. It was well worth the visit, even if we did leave tut-tutting about how Queen Vic must have had very poor taste judging by some of the garish interior. I'd recommend Appuldurcome, though, if only due to the way it forces you to use your imagination about how it would have looked back when Queen Victoria was choosing her rude statues and bright gold ornaments for Osbourne House.

Osbourne House

Beaches! Tents! Joy!

Yesterday was the longest day for those of us lucky enough to be in the Northern Hemisphere, and Stephen, Tane and I decided to spend in on the lovely Isle of Wight. In two days we managed to see some great old houses, walk to some cliffs, find some £2 beer and drive around the entire Island. Awesome.

Walking back from the western most point of the Island

The best part for me, though, was going camping. I love sleeping in a wee tent, snuggled in my polyprops and "Therminator" sleeping bag (Seriously, that's what it's called.) Tane and I bought our tent over two years ago and apart from a trip to New Plymouth and another to Ireland we haven't used it at all. After last weekend, however, I am determined that the summer of 2009 shall be known forevermore as the Summer-o-Camping. Maybe next time though Stephen will bring his own tent, even though he claims that the tiny car was comfortable enough ...


Tane packs up the tent while Stephen takes a photo of himself and I say something wise (I assume)

I am not sure what part of the trip the others liked best, but it was possibly the parts that involved laziness, sand and sea.

The Isle of Wight was lovely, and I can't recommend it enough as a great place to go camping and see the English countryside - especially on the longest day of the year when it doesn't get dark until past 10pm. Bring on the next camping trip!

Erin in da house

I love it when family come to visit, especially when they bring me lollies from home. So, I am feeling pretty happy at the moment about Erin being here on a short stop as part of her around -the-World trip. Unfortunately, although we went to visit the Queen she did not pop outside her palace to say hello. Never mind.

Outside Buckingham Palace

On the bright side though the weather has been amazing, which has made for some great times soaking up the rays. Oh, and seeing some old rocks as well.

Stonehenge

Whenever I see family it is great how quickly things click back to normal, even though years may have passed. Sometimes living in London I feel far away and disconnected from the folks at home, but when Erin (and Ngaire last year) visit it's so much fun showing them around my pad and newly adopted home. Yay!