Even though we have been coming here for years and have been members for 3 or four years, it was the first time we have taken one of the free guided talks, two in fact. It was well worth it, making us focus on aspects of particular paintings. The second tour was in one of the current exhibitions, Zen Mind Zen Brush. Fabulous objects and a great talk by the guide.
]]> http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/08/the_buddha.htm http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/08/the_buddha.htm Sydney sites Sun, 13 Aug 2006 14:52:56 +1000
Blue in Sydney
Originally uploaded by ** Robyn **. I saw this car in the service station where I was having my car inspected for registration. It and the sky beyond reminded me of my great e-pal, Blue. Look very closely at the number plate, too.
]]> http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/07/blue_in_sydney.htm http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/07/blue_in_sydney.htm Sydney sites Mon, 10 Jul 2006 19:42:19 +1000
Dartmoor sunset
Originally uploaded by ** Robyn **. From the high places on Dartmoor you can see forever, no matter what the time of the day. Sunset in December comes early so you need to be sure that you are not too far from home and we weren't here.

This is the evening that Dianna and I walked to see the stone row in the previous entry. The walk is not very long as the row is just above the house so coming home did not take very long. The path is a bit rough, though, and it is important that you watch where you are putting your feet. Sturdy shoes are a must for ankle support and to make sure that the mud stays on the path and not on your socks.

By the time we reached home the air was freezing cold so the warmth of the house was very welcome.
]]> http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/06/dartmoor_sunset.htm http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/06/dartmoor_sunset.htm Dartmoor Sun, 18 Jun 2006 20:18:59 +1000
Dartmoor stone row
Originally uploaded by ** Robyn **. I have some sort of mystic connection to Dartmoor. My grandmother's father was from Newton Abbott and his ancestors farmed all around the edges of the moor. When I go onto Dartmoor I have the feeling that I have come home, at last, even though I was born half a world away.

Another of the ancient treasures that I was shown during our stay at Headland Warren Farm was this stone avenue that is on the crest of a hill just above the farm house. The walk up the hill is well worth the small effort, to see, not only the twin rows of stone and their headstone, but also the magnificent view which stretches out across the moorland toward the sea.

I am sure that if I lived here I would be much fitter and definitely a lot slimmer than I am now.
]]> http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/06/dartmoor_stone.htm http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/06/dartmoor_stone.htm Dartmoor Sat, 17 Jun 2006 20:23:35 +1000
Grimspound
Originally uploaded by Robynls. In my previous entry I wrote about our stay at Headland Warren Farm on Dartmoor. Across the road, just above the farm house is this beautifully preserved megalithic village known as Grimspound.

Diana walked with me here one evening, early in our stay, after she had finished her day's work. On this walk we were accompanied by her dogs Heron and Hookie who we might meet in this a little later. In this photograph can be seen the lower wall of one of the hut circles in the village. The stone wall would have had a teepee style roof made from reeds. In the distance the stone wall of the village can be seen.

The village is located in a saddle just below a hill known as Hookney Tor.
]]> http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/06/grimspound.htm http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/06/grimspound.htm Dartmoor Sat, 10 Jun 2006 15:08:08 +1000
Headland Warren Farm
Originally uploaded by Robynls. I have neglected my postcards for a long time. I have been thinking about our last holidays in the UK. My friends here are telling me about the hot weather that they are having but all I remember is the blissful cool of the winter.

Headland Warren Farm is a peaceful retreat way up on Dartmoor. Within the boundaries of the property, just across the road from the house is a well known and much visited megolithic village site called Grimspound. The house itself is a renovated long barn that includes the home of the owner, Diana, space for a long term tenant in the centre and a disabled friendly area on the end for short stays. Click on the photograph to see a larger image and see The Poet enjoying the Christmas sunshine on the porch.

We had two wonderful weeks at Headland Warren Farm. Our hostess made sure that I had a chance to enjoy the natural surroundings by organising company to walk with. She visited The Poet and invited friends to visit and chat with him. Diana is a very caring and considerate hostess who helped us make the most of the calm afforded by her wonderful home.
]]> http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/06/headland_warren.htm http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2006/06/headland_warren.htm Dartmoor Fri, 09 Jun 2006 21:24:27 +1000

Winter has finally come. There has been moments recently when many of us thought that we would never see it but in just the nick of time the temperature dropped.

The nick of time because 50 girls from school had signed up for the ski trip. With just a week to go I was wondering what our fearless leader had planned to do with them as there was no snow. Then it got cold and the snow came. Lots of snow, in fact so that we were all able to have a great time without worrying about skiing over grass and rocks.

The first couple of days were glorious sunshine days with most of us coming in with mild sunburn, despite the sunscreen. By Wednesday the weather broke again and the wind and the snow came back. It didn't bother me too much because the old knees had given in by then and I wasn't fit for too much skiing. Also, the girl behind the bar at the bistro had figured out how to do a hot chocolate with butterscotch schnapps - yum!

About an hour's drive north of the Sydney suburb where The Poet and I live is the the village of Brooklyn on the Hawkesbury River. Every hour or so a little ferry collects passengers from the jetty in Brooklyn and takes them out to Dangar Island.

Dangar was originally used by the Dharuk people as a source of food but they were wiped out by disease following the arrival of white settlers. Mr Henry Dangar built a farm on the island in the mid 1800's and his name was given to it in 1920. These days around 200 people call Dangar their home, either permanently or on weekends.

There are roads on the island but there isn't any cars. If you live or visit there, you have to walk from the jetty to the house. In the shed at the public wharf are a few wheelbarrows that are used to carry heavy items to your house.

We are lucky enough to have friends who own a house on Dangar Island and who generously open it up to two or three times a year to hold writers' workshops. Of course The Poet is a genuine member of this group. I just tag along and pretend that I have some sort of cachet in this talented group but while they read and workshop their work, I just sit and listen, except today when I had the nerve to draw one of the group.

Note that in Australia we usually talk in how long it takes to get somewhere rather than distances.

As you walk to the front door of Jellore Cottage from the gate in the old grey picket fence you have to brush past the English lavender that lines each side of the path. The perfume of the flowers clings to your clothes and starts the relaxation process.

I think that the thing that appeals to me most about the cottage is its simplicty. There is no television and the radio is only a new addition since our last visit - no carpets, basic kitchen, no Internet or telephone and no piles of books and papers to be dealt with.

The first place that I always head for is the back garden, to sit and watch the sun setting behind the trees in the orchard. The post and rail fence that seperates it from the main body of the garden must have been there for a hundred years or more.

I had been talking earlier about our visit to the V&A in London in January. There are so many wonderful things in this museum that anyone could find a corner in which to enjoy themsleves. There are galleries of of Chinese, Egpytian, Roman and African antiquities. Other galleries hold beautiful examples of art work in gold and silver. Somewhere else is a gallery holding modern pieces of design that showcases the work of current young designers. Two very large rooms are filled with plaster reproductions of everything from Michelangelo's David to the doors of an Italian basillica.

In a corridor that runs between the two plaster reproduction galleries are 3 or 4 small plinths holding small items. It was here that I found this wonderful jug. At first glance it appeared to be a fin example of the glass makers art. It is only when you stop to read the information label that accompanies the jug that you discover that it was carved from a single piece of rock crystal. The walls of the jug are extremely thin and the surface is covered with stunning carvings. I find it amazing that this delicate piece has survived since it was made in Egypt in about 1000 CE. The story that it would be able to tell would be well worth the hearing.

In Amsterdam, I wanted to bring home the Delft violin from the Rijksmuseum. From the V&A, my favourite item that I want to bring home with me is this crystal jug. I suppose that it is a good thing that both pieces are stored behind glass or by now I might be in really big trouble.

Last year The Poet and I went to see a film called National Teasure. The central characters follow a trail of clues to beat the bad guys to a secret which turns out to be a collection of archealogical treasures. I was reminded of this film when we spent, sadly, only half a day at the Victoria and Albert Museum in the last days of our holiday in London.

In the days when the sun never set on the British Empire all sorts of wonderful things made their way by various means to England. The blitzkrieg of World War II was responsible for the destruction of large areas of English cities, leaving fragments of history with no home. Hundreds of these treasures of the world's past have made their way to the collection held in the V&A.

I think that you could not see all there is to see in this museum if you went there all day, every day for a year. The curators have imaginative ways of helping the visitor to see a selection of the collection like the 'Beauty' exhibition that was on while we were there. They had not moved any of the items from their usual place in the museum. A pathway through the halls were marked by pink footprints on the floor and discrete labels beside each of the featured items. Armed with an audio guide, the visitor moved from item to item learning about how each of them represented some culture's definition of beauty.

The first piece in the exhibition was this beautiful example of the work of Italian scultor Canova.

Southwark was once the entertainment district of London. It's most famous feature was the Globe Theatre where William Shakespeare produced the plays that school children all over the English speaking world hate and serious theatre goers absolutely adore. A modern reconstruction of the Globe Theatre stands on the spot and is dedicated to the exploration and performance of Shakespeare's works.

In Southwark Cathedral is a monument to the bard that was paid for by his admirer's. It contains a life-sized figure of Shakespeare, reclining in front of a bas-relief of the Southwark skyline, promenantly showing the theatre and the spire of the cathedral. ]]> http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2005/03/southwark_cathe.htm http://www.robalsmith.id.au/postcards/archives/2005/03/southwark_cathe.htm Holiday 2004-5 Sat, 26 Mar 2005 15:09:43 +1000 Given a very little encouragement I could keep talking about Cornwall until I am physically there again. Of course I would end up a blubbering mess and any readers that I had left would be bored senseless. I suppose that I should move on to our final destination before we came back to Oz.

There are a couple of companies in London who run double decker bus tours of the City and Westminster areas. After buying a ticket you can get on and off the bus at any of their stops for a 24 hour period. They go past all of the regulation tourist must see spots so you can see everything that the folks back home are going to ask you about.

The Poet and I took this trip the first time that we were in London together, four years ago. This year we bought tickets because it really is an easy way to get to most of the places that we wanted to go. So long as it isn't raining, the open top isn't too bad at this time of the year, but you do need a warm jacket, gloves and probably a beanie.

After four years of whimping out, The Poet finally gave in and said that he was prepared to take a ride on the London Eye. I think that he was wise to the fact that it is closed for maintenance in January. At least I got a decent photograph from the top deck of the bus.

It has been a few days since I posted any reminiscences of our holiday. Since then I have made a new e-friend, Blue, who has the enormous good fortune to live in St Ives in Cornwall.

The Poet and I have enjoyed a day in St Ives each time that we have visited Cornwall. He came here years ago and bought a painting by the St Ives artist, Keith English. It hangs on the wall of our family room to serve as a reminder of our times here. The Poet has visited Keith English's studio on our last couple of visits.

I imagine that St Ives in the summer is wall to wall tourists but in the winter it is not very busy. Many of the shopkeepers take the opportunity to have a holiday so lots of the shops are closed. The main street is very narrow and paved with cobblestones. Normal traffic is not allowed to drive down it but it is still a good idea to be cautious as delivery vans use it and there is not much space to let them pass. A handy doorway makes a good bolthole at these moments.

Fortunately the pubs are still trading and the one just out of of this photograph provides a great lunch of crab cakes with chips and a crisp salad. The bread rolls are fresh and crusty and the cider is cold.