Could this be Summer?

Old friends

A week of hellos and goodbyes.  On Friday we once more headed to Helen and George's for the night. They are probably sick of us by now, but are either too polite or too drunk to say. The purpose of this trip was to spend another 24 hours with Rob's dad before he flies back to NZ on Tuesday. It's fair to say the weather has not been kind to him. Even once he headed north to Scotland, the bad weather followed him, while we basked in the sun in the south. On his return, the rain joined him. After a smashing dinner, hearing tales of his trips in the north, on Saturday I made a trip of my own into London to meet an old friend. Nic Whalley is famous in our house for his repeated hospitality at some of Sydney's finest restaurants where he was the boss - Otto, Tetsuya, Lotus etc. One involved a new year's eve, where he was in charge of Cruise restaurant, one of a few in the Overseas Passenger Terminal. While its position offered stand out views of the opera house, it excluded any view of the harbour bridge, which really has the money shot when it comes to the midnight fireworks. At 11.45pm, Nic tapped me on the shoulder and led my sister, my Dad and Alexandra onto the roof. A waiter appeared with 4 Champagne flutes and on the stroke of midnight the 4 of us stood alone to watch the bridge explode with colour and light, while also eyeing the opera house, a view no one else in the building enjoyed. Anyway, over the years we met again and again at functions and events, we were lucky enough to be invited to, and Nic became a friend. The girls know him as the man who taught them how to point, roll their eyes and stare at crazy people, whilst chanting "knock, knock, curly whirly, err, errrghhh". Anyway here he is, across the table from me at the Tate Modern restaurant yesterday, where we shared a carafe of English wine, with his lovely partner Yoko (no, not the one who broke up The Beatles) and this is the lovely sea bream who gave its life for my lunch. Nic is a wonderful human being and makes me laugh almost as much as Rob , Paul Chinnery and Richard Hand do.

 On Sunday, we drove to Dad's for lunch with the delicious Aunty Joyce. Although not actually a blood relative, growing up she was as good as a real aunty to me, we called her children our cousins and our two families went on many adventures together. She hadn't changed a bit, despite claiming to be in her 70s, and we had a brilliant time catching up.

The sun it doth shineth

It's true, so far spring has been a total washout. but a feint glimmer of sunlight meant a much-postponed wood walk for Flo's class could go ahead on Wednesday. I love helping out with the Woodpeckers class, they are all still so young and cute and I get lots of cuddles and drawings as gifts. (Not too many cuddles, of course, in case an innocent exchange of affection is misconstrued as something inappropriate, even though I'm in a class full of other kids and two teaching staff. At least that's what it says here in this 498 page manifesto on how to listen to children read or help them paint a toilet roll in class, appendix A, subsection 43c/17.) I digress. On Wednesday I helped my group of 4 into their wellies and coats and off we all splodged through the mud to the school's own wood. Our purpose, to look for minibeasts of the variety the kids have been learning about in class - ladybirds, beetles, earwigs, centipedes, ants etc. It's funny that in England this is as exciting as the wildlife gets on this level, but of course a walk like this wouldn't be possible in an Australia woodland for risk of the children being killed by the minibeasts they found. There was something absolutely gorgeous about the thrilled look on their collective faces everytime someone found a tiny spider or a woodlice. They didn't care that they were uncovering everyday insects they could find easily in their own back gardens - it was the thrill of the discovery.

I organised a Mum's night out on Friday night at the local pizza place. 10 of us assembled for a really fun night, but got a bit messy at the end. After leaving the restaurant, an unwise breakway group went on to a bar for another drink, and an even smaller group ended up back at our house, opening another bottle. Before I crawled into ed in the small hours, Rob had been woken by my friend Lucy who strolled into our bedroom while Rob was sleeping. Needless to say, the result on Saturday morning, afternoon and evening come to that, is in my top 3 hangovers of all time. Maria took me out for lunch for my birthday on Saturday and I could barely string a senetnce together what with the spinning room and the moving staircase down to the loo. I will spare you the photos of the night here. 

On Sunday we woke to gorgeous sunshine and I took the girls down to the seafront to ride their bikes while I ran. Afterwards we had a christening of the new gas Weber, with marinated chicken, salad and Hugh Fairly-Longname's cherry tomato, new potato and haloumi kebabs.

 

Finally, my very own boxing gloves arrived today. Aren't they brilliant?!

My birthday explained in pictures

The magnum

The poster( boy)

Jack in the Green garlands

The parade

The fireeater

The lunch

The cake

Thanks to Lucy for having her 40th on Friday night, allowing me to hook up with fabulous old friends, to Helen and George for the (inadvertent) Champagne lunch,  to Rob for doing all the cooking and clearing up at my birthday lunch (and for the Ryan Gosling poster), to Ruth for coming to Hastings for the night and totally making my birthday, and to Hastings for holding the brilliant Jack in the Green festival the same weekend as my birthday.

Raining and kicking

More larks with Grandad Ian this week, though mostly confined to indoors as the rain did not stop all last week. We managed a trip to the cinema, a lunch and dinner out and lunch at Dad and Alexandra's, but any other sightseeing was confined to the car, views obscured by the dashing of the wipers on the windscreen. We had one clear day on Friday so we took Ian off to Battle for the tour of the battleground of the battle of Hastings. (I've never seen the word battle that many times in a sentence before.) On Saturday we drove in the rain to Chartwell, Winston Churchill's former home, to meet up with Helen and George and the kids, to do the Grandad Ian handover. We toured the house, but the wet weather prevented us from enjoying the grounds and after a freezing undercover 'picnic', we drove to their house in Surrey. The boys immediately legged it to the pub, before Helen and I had emptied the car boots of wellies and bags, so we settled in for couple of afternoon gins and a catch up. In the evening, a chicken curry hit the spot alongwith a bottle of port. Oh dear. Yesterday, we left in convoy for a gorgeous Sunday lunch at George's parents' place in Gerrards Cross.

In other news, I went to my first kickboxing class on Thursday which was awesome. It's the bext exercise class I've ever been to and I have not been able to stop evangelizing about it, and Rob is quite bored of the subject. I can't wait for this week's class.

Godfathers and Grandfathers

Lots of fun this week, with both Kendall the Godfather and Ian the Grandfather. Kendall is in London writing about London's 5 star hotels, staying at a different one each night. On Wednesday I met him at the Tate Modern to see the Damien Hirst exhibition. Once we'd stopped jumping up and down on the spot in excitement, we joined the queue for tickets and were soon gazing on Mr Hirst's Shark in formaldehyde, dissected cow and calf, and giant ashtray. Didn't really get the pharmacy room displays but enjoyed the exhibition overall. After a lovely lunch in the top floor restaurant, we walked back along the South Bank to The Savoy, our home for the night. We were escorted to the 4th floor to our two-room, riverfront suite, complete with butler, Julius. The room's views stretched from Canary Wharf in the east, along to the Houses of Parliament. The London Eye twinkled all night across the river from our room. It was so much fun, hanging out in the room, drinking wine and thinking up tasks for Julius. Cocktails in the American Bar followed, before we walked to Les Deux Salons in nearby Covent Garden for dinner. The next morning a huge breakfast was served in our room, at a table overlooking the Thames. After using every bathroom product available during a very long shower, I got the train back to Hastings. Meanwhile my tagteam mate Rob had dropped the girls at school and was on another train London bound. He met up with Kendall in Soho for the next night at the Dean Street Townhouse. After some light, recreational shopping, they hit a bar, only to find Kylie Minogue shooting a video outside. Dinner, drinks, laughter, you know the rest.
On Friday Rob met Ian off the train at Waterloo, and brought him home to Hastings, to stay with us for a week. With the weather having turned completely pants, and Ian having developed a bad back, we took things easy on Saturday, driving to Winchelsea beach for lunch at The Ship, followed by a very windy and cold walk/bike ride along the beach at Pett Level.
On Sunday, the skies cleared, the sun came out and we had a brilliant lunch on the deck with Dad and Alexandra.  It was the first time our Dads had seen each other since our wedding in 1995, plus the first time the girls had been with both Grandfathers at the same time.

In other news, Rob has started teaching Scarlett the piano and in just two weeks, she can already play a couple of short songs and is loving what she has achieved, as well as the one on one time with Daddy.

Easter Holidays part 2

We spent the remainder of the Easter hols, wrapped up against the cold that has now gripped Britain. All rather disappointing after the marvellous Spring/Summer weather we were enjoying before we went to Italy. We headed to Suffolk to relieve the boredom, staying with top mates Rich and Justin. Since we last visited,  Smart Fox Cottage has undergone a major extension cretaing a huge new living space, extra bedroom and amazing bathroom (sorry no pics). On the way there we got a National Trust fix at the spectacular gardens at Anglesey Abbey near Cambridge, before heading to the boys's for dinner on Thursday night. On Friday, while Rick and Justin worked, we walked a few miles through gorgeous fields and woodland to the staggering beautiful Ickworth, another NT cracker where, as well as the splendid state rooms, the servants' quarters have been recreated to resemble life below stairs in 1935, which all Downton Abbey fans should check out immediately.

 On Saturday, still in recovery mode after Friday night's amazing venison stew and much red wine, we left the boys and drove to Surrey to Helen and George's to see Rob's dad Ian, recently arrived from NZ and here for the next 5 weeks. A lovely walk, great catch up and hours spent on the trampoline (the cousins) and a terrific pub lunch later, and we are now home, in front of the fire, ready for an early night as the girls go back to school tomorrow. Another great school holiday, with lots of adventures.

Easter in Italy

We arrived home on Saturday night from an amazing week in Italy. The trip almost didn't happen, when we couldn't start the car just as we were leaving for the airport. A quick call to Maria and Lol, and their spare car was delivered for our use.  Phew! We flew to Rome, picked up a hire car and drove north east for an hour or so to Umbria, Italy's so-called 'green heart', to stay at hilltop Todi Castle. We first visited 8 years ago, with  baby Scarlett, on the way to England for her christening, Dad's 70th and his wedding to Alexandra. On that visit we stayed in the castle grounds, in a 17th century farmhouse, with Liz and Mike, Moira and Fraser, Giles and Lucy and Ruth and Pete.  After writing a piece for the Sydney Morning Herald travel section, owner Mario reported a summer of Australian bookings. Ever since, he has promised to repay me with another stay, and it has taken us this long to arrange it. On this visit he put us up in the castle itself.  This amazing 12th-century former fortress was the perfect base to explore the surrounding towns of Orvieto, Assisi,
Todi and Perugia.
Any drive from the castle was a treat - green lush countryside, rolling hills punctuated by beautiful hilltop towns and villages. At all of them we parked at the bottom of the hill and were transported to the top by lift, escalator or funicular. As a result the towns are car-less, unspoilt and quiet. We spent our days lunching on impeccable pasta, pizza and salads washed down with red wine and sparkling water, sitting on sundrenched terraces looking at the views. We strolled piazzas, ate gelato, explored ancient churches and local cemeteries and dozed in the sun on church steps. One day we caught the train two hours' north to Florence, to show Flo her namesake city. It was the only day of bad weather, raining on and off, but we managed a great walk through the city, ending up on a hill overlooking the famous duomo. On slower days, we walked the grounds of the castle, through the olive groves and hiked up a local hill in search of ruins and views.


A highlight of the trip was Flo learning to ride a bike without training wheels. With a little help from Scarlett, she was very quickly up and running on a bike, much too big for her.  On the last night were hosted by the castle owners in great style. We missed Mario on this visit as he lives half the year in New York, as you do, but his brother Flavio and their father invited us in for dinner in the private wing of the castle. While a fire roared in the huge stone fireplace we were served the best risotto I've eaten in my life followed by venison, from the deer in the grounds, followed by gelato and grappa. Flavio and Mario's father is a former Italian Ambassador to Cuba, Tunisia and the United Nations, so the family wing is filled with amazing collections of art and sculpture from their times overseas. It was a great end to our time in Umbria. On Easter Saturday we drove back to Rome for a whistlestop tour of the city. We arrived 20 minutes before St Peter's was closing for Easter Sunday preparations, so had to race through the basilica, After lunch Rob drove us from site to site, parking illegally, allowing us a few moments to leap out snap a few pictures before zooming off again.

 

 

Here are a few pictures to explain the trip better than I have here.

A pretty cool week.

I got to spend another fun day in London last week, researching and doing interviews for the final two features I had to write for the magazine I've been working on.
On Thursday morning I went to Notting Hill to meet the very talented Nikki Tibbles, founder of floral empire Wild At Heart. Her first shop was at the so-called Turquoise Island on Westbourne Grove, and is little more than a shed-sized building attached to a toilet block. Westbourne Grove has certainly come up in the world since I lived in west London and it was at once alarming and nice to see how much things have changed. Once again I couldn't help noticing the total lack of West Indian people, replaced by those in barbours, oversized sunglasses and expensive cars. While I was waiting for Nikki's photoshoot to finish, I spotted an actress and a model popping in for flowers. Nikki invited me back to her house to do the interview which I was really thrilled about as it meant I got to have a massive perve around her huge house. Her house is like ours - a 4-storey Georgian townhouse - with the slight difference that hers is in Notting Hill, walking distance from Portobello Road and Ladbroke Grove, whereas mine is...well, you know. Anyhoo, the house didn't disappoint, filled with incredible art, furniture and her spectaculat vase collection. Nikki's mantra is that if a vase isn't beautiful enough to stand alone then it has no business having flowers in it. But then she also advocates using jam jars and buckets, so there you go. Once we'd finished our interview and, curiously a pot of rice pudding each, I left her home and wandered through the streets, down to Bayswater where I got the tube to St Pancras. I hadn't visited since the huge renovation turned a rather grim train station into a hotel and home for the Eurostar trains.  There's an incredible glass roof, an oyster bar, some fancy shops and a huge, hideous sculpture of a couple embracing. I must admit I was really disappointed, expecting something more like Madrid's super cool Atocha station that keeps the trains outside and the people and the trees inside. On then to Clerkenwell for a stroll before my second interview with a bloke whose job is advising residential developers on how to incorporate art and culture into the finished project which was really interesting.
We'd been watching all the Sport Relief stuff on telly all week, including the documentary on the extraordinary efforts of my old Manchester Poly mate, comedian John Bishop. His week of hell involved cycling from Paris to Calais in under 24 hours, then rowing across the channel, then running a marathon every day for 3 days until he reached London.
On Sunday Scarlett and I got dressed in our US Halloween costumes for our, admittedly much smaller effort , running The Mile for Sport Relief.  I was really impressed with Scarlett, running much faster and harder than I did. She now wants to do the 5km Race for Life in July and is already talking about doing the 6 mile run for Sport Relief next year.  She raised 272 quid in the end, which I think is pretty good for an 8 year old.

The weather was amazing again yesterday so we walked down to the new Jerwood Gallery on the seafront and met Janice and Roger for lunch on the sun-drenched balcony overlooking the fishing boats. It was pretty perfect.

Florence is 5. Hooray.

 That's my Florence, with her huge brown eyes, impossibly long lashes and happy demeanor. She's our  dancer, our smiling ball of sunshine, our loves-a-cuddle queen. After a hard day of smiling, jumping, dancing and laughing, she likes nothing more than curling up on a lap, like a big cat, thumb in mouth and reaching up behind her to stroke the neck of the lap owner. I can't believe it's 5 years since she burst into our lives. Here she is, enjoying her big day. We started out with the big present opening in bed, in which she kissed each present as she opened it. We spent the morning at the cinema watching the new Muppet movie, followed by a bouncy castle party with 10 mates from school, and then a family dinner at Pizza Express. Happy birthday sweetheart.

Oh I do like to be beside a nuclear power station...

It might sound weird, but Scarlett, Flo and I had a brilliant afternoon at Dungeness, the small spit of land a few miles along the coast from Hastings, that is actually in Kent. Weird because, as well as being home to an eclectic assortment of  beach houses and shacks (including Derek Jarman's, below), a scattering of fishing boats, two lighthouses and a miniature steam railway, it is also the site of Dungeness Nuclear power station.  This monolithic building dominates the flat landscape and provides the backdrop to every view, but there's something really rather beautiful about the desolation and loneliness of the place, that I loved. The sun was shining, the beach was littered with fishermen and we walked and played on the beach, perved at some of the more stylish beach houses and then drove home via Camber Sands for a 99.