Places in Britain associated with a work of literature, or a well-known author, poet or other writer.
Some years ago, I was fortunate to be invited to do some work for the Honourable Society of the Middle Temple in London. The days I spent there were almost like being in a time capsule; all around were ghostly whispers from our past, of crusader knights, Magna Carta, the Wars of the Roses, the […]
Secrets of the Middle Temple Read More »
London
When I first saw this heading, I thought to myself, like you probably did, “I don’t think I want to look for Pooh; it sounds as though it could be rather unpleasant.” Then a growly voice from the past said, rather dolefully, “I suppose you mean me? The best bear in all the world. Anyway,
In which we go in search of Pooh, and find A Little Something Read More »
South East
How often do you walk into a pub mentally dwelling on things like wizards and talking lions? Be honest now. If you need help with this, try stepping over the threshold of Oxford’s Eagle and Child, because it was a favourite watering-hole of close friends JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis. Disappointingly, there’s nothing obviously magical
Aslan and Gandalf go for a pint Read More »
South East
This is the story of England’s first known poet. Once upon a time, many many years ago, there was a good herdsman who lived on a cliff top called Streaneshalch. The herdsman’s name was Caedmon; he was no spring chicken and was actually quite shy. Nearby on the cliff top was a great Abbey, ruled
Give us a song, Caedmon Read More »
Yorkshire and the Humber
The wealthy banker Lionel de Rothschild bought the Exbury Estate, in Hampshire, in 1919. In 1922, work began on creating what is now a 200 acre garden, internationally famous for its rhododendrons, azaleas, rare trees and shrubs. Exbury Gardens are open to the public, nestle on the eastern edge of the Beaulieu River in the
Blooms and a mystery at Exbury Gardens Read More »
South East
The Victorian novel, ‘Lorna Doone – a Romance of Exmoor’, is generally assumed to be a work of fiction, set in a stunning location on the borders of Devon and Somerset and against the turbulent historical backdrop of the Monmouth Rebellion of 1685. Yet some believe that the author, R D Blackmore, drew upon illusive
The dastardly shooting of Lorna Read More »
South West
Durham’s story is a fascinating piece of the story of England. It is partly a tale of saints and kings and moving bones, and it begins back in the 7th century. The founding of Durham Cathedral Actually, it was mostly Cuthbert’s fault – with some help from the Danes, a lost cow and perhaps a
The Devil was a busy little bee in days gone by. Some might say he still is, but in any event he crops up all over the British landscape – including at the Tarr Steps, a famous clapper bridge over the river Barle, Somerset, in the Exmoor National Park. Clapper bridges, river crossings of dry-stone
“ ‘Not here,” said Nancy hurriedly, “I am afraid to speak to you here. Come away – out of the public road – down the steps yonder!’ The steps to which the girl had pointed were those which, on the Surrey bank, and on the same side of the bridge as Saint Saviour’s Church, form
Head west out of London Bridge Station. If you’re very careful, you will discover London’s third Anglican cathedral, Southwark; it’s easily missed. Hemmed in between the colourful and vibrant Borough Market and the occasionally vulgar Montagu Close, and often hidden by dark Victorian railway arches over which trains ceaselessly rattle and clunk in and out
London’s forgotten cathedral Read More »
London
I wonder how many pints of ale have been supped here? Let me see: if just twenty people drank a modest 4 pints every night, that would be, er, 29,200 pints a year – 2,920,000 for every century. But the revenue generated by that amount of beer would not be enough to make the place
The George Inn at Borough Read More »
London
We travelled to Bateman’s, Rudyard Kipling’s Sussex home for 34 years, through the impossibly pretty village of Burwash, all whitewash and weatherboard. You reach the house down what Kipling described as “an enlarged rabbit-hole of a lane” to arrive in what is now a car park. I wondered how it had all looked when the