17/03/2013

Kew gardens and Eel Pie Island

On exploration days like this I love London. A while back little Miss Gerbil came to visit from Amsterdam and off we went for a free David Nash tour at Kew Gardens. I would have been none the wiser at understanding his artworks if I had just roamed around the gardens and come across his sculptures without knowing his lifelong exploration of natural materials. We discovered his propensity to work with trees, living ones with their roots still in the ground (which energetically link his works to the site he says) or trees that had succumbed to storm or age or disease, scattered across the 121 hectare site. The one specific statue is from a 300 year-old oak that had been weakened by drought, it became distressed and gave off pheromones which beetles picked up on and moved into. Along the way I saw 2 trees that were the same species, but one was male, the other female, her leaves were completely different and she was smaller. I loved the idea of trees that beckoned beetles to their doom, and husbands and wives that were rooted next to each other forever.

The Gardens houses the world's largest collection of living plants. We saw one of the oldest pot plants in the world, the 238 year-old cycad Encephalartos altensteinii which had been brought from SA in the early 1770s. The name Encephalartos in Greek apparently means ‘bread in the head’. Hottentots would remove the pith from the cycad's stem and bury it for 2 months before kneading it into bread and baking it in embers.










Then something I never expected to find, a new-found female idol known as Marianne North. She was a Victorian artist who travelled the world by herself and recorded the world’s flora with her paintbrush. There is an entire gallery of her works at Kew, filled from floor to ceiling of the natural sights she documented on her travels from Japan to Java. What an inspiration. At the end of the exhibit you could take a tag and write down a memory you have relating to a plant, reading some of the childrens' answers are worth a giggle.



The final stage of the day was a visit to an island on the Thames! Who knew. Close to Twickenham, I was drawn to visiting it by some hearsay that the hippy haven had denounced the Queen way back when, and had formed their own state for a day or two before the bobbies came and put them in their place. This was complete 'bollocks' a resident told me, but from the gnomed, mannequined and crocodiled decor, one could tell its not of the mainstream so to speak. Although a trendy apartment development had recently made its way onto the island, which means bankers will move in at some point and spoil the renegade charm of this artist collective. What a pity. All in a day's walk in London.






06/03/2013

Legible London

As I am sure you have noticed, I like me some pretty typefaces when I come across them. Be they the product of urban scrawls or houseboat signage, DIY lettering or Victorian barber signs, the Queen's greenway or City of London crests, grimey underground placards or art deco hotels, Hackney tags or vandalised telephone boxes, there's always something worth a glance and a quick shot.














02/03/2013

Then and now

When my dad came to visit me in London for a short time a while back, we thought it would be fun to go back to places he had been in London 48 years ago and re-shoot the scenes. Back then he embraced the opportunity to come here on a trip organised by the university he worked for, back then you could not travel without the state's permission and the group had a 'handler' for the journey. Because he seemed to have enjoyed Western culture too much on that occasion, he was detained from leaving Poland on the next trip my mother and father were to take together.

We reproduced 3 tourist scenes: Marble Arch, Piccadilly Circus, and waiting outside Selfridge's on Bond Street for a bus. There was one part of Bond Street we couldn't find, a somewhat family favourite of him crossing the street, looking all suave and collected in the city of flux. Perhaps one of you would know where it is. It was a good few days, walking through these places of memory with my dad, blissfully carefree and enjoying the freedoms that he did not have when he was my age.





11/02/2013

Finally, some snow!

Snow finally arrived! Many a snowball was thrown around Hampstead Heath (that looked magically quiet until reaching Parliament Hill, the place to go apparently with your snow sled and sproglet kids in tow), many off-shaped snowmen were spotted, and much oggling was done on a walk to Audley End (that impressive manor-looking place close to Cambridge). Nothing quite like walking over abandoned rail tracks covered in snow, and following a quietly-trickling river to an English heritage site.






04/02/2013

Canals, cheese and cycles

And a kak load of that I got with the Christmas visit to Amsterdam and the surrounds recently. Such much of cheese. And canals. And bicycles. Every. Where. You. Look. My lovely friend Little Miss Gerbil was sweet enough to loan out her flat in the lovely Spaarndammer area of the dam, with yummy Moroccan bakeries and veggie/vegan restaurants in the area (one being Zaal 100). She left us 2 trusty bicycles to explore with (this is usual apparently for Hollanders to have more than one bike..!), and off we went. The dam pretty much looks as it was since my last visit many moons ago, with streetart, millions of bicycles, Rembrandt masterpieces still as breathtaking as ever, with a few new additions of romantic couples dancing to street buskers, pesto cheese, even more design studios, and a lovely light show across the city added to it over Christmas.




Cycling away from the city is super easy (once you manage to find your way out of Amsterdam that is). The Dutch are amazing that way, they have clearly marked out cycle routes linking their cities together, so really, you could explore the whole country on a bicycle. So off we went towards Marken, a little island to the north east of Amsterdam, as well as Monnickendam,Volendam and Edam (because I have an obsession with cheese and it felt fitting to go there). Like so many of Holland's lovely towns, Edam has authentic 17th century architecture, gables, squares, bridges and monuments, old streets and quiet canals, one can easily imagine what it was like centuries ago. Big on shipbuilding there too. I'd recommend stopping off at the local pubs and having a chat with locals. Dutch people are nice that way.We met a man warming up on gluwein, who just caught a fish for his supper.





A 15 minute train ride to the left of Amsterdam is Haarlem, tulip bulb-growing district for centuries bearing the nickname Bloemenstad (flower city) and owner of De Adriaan, one of the many windmills we were to see! Yes we even went to Zaanse Schans, the somewhat Disneyland of windmills. Some of them are still in working order too, the ultimate environmentally-friendly factory, some still saw wood and press oil. We met one of the workers of the mill at a little granny's place along the windmill stretch, selling gluwein for €1, the best bargain we had found to date. He mentioned that the moment the mills 'retire' they rot, so it's best to keep them working.



And to top it all off, we were invited to a Christmas lunch by a pair of little Miss Gerbil's friends, where I met the prettiest snow leopard named Lux. Yes, total strangers invited us over for Christmas. That's how awesome Dutch people are.


31/01/2013

Christmas away from home

Yessir, it's been a year since moving from South Africa to London, and with that comes the first Christmas away from the family, over-indulgent Polish meals, warm December holidays by the coast, and quiet Gauteng streets. Instead I got the madness that is Oxford Street during the festive season, GIANT-ass baubles in Covent Garden, Winter Wonderland carnival rides in Hyde Park (which is a seasoned highlight for the capital every year apparently), vomiting elf lights (as part of this year's Marmite Christmas lights in central), an excursion to see Harrod's window display, a Christmas tree made out of whiskey barrels, but no snow. Sigh. Still a much colder Christmas than I am accustomed to...




03/01/2013

Górki Wielkie

As I have some time on my hands in the New Year, I can post some more pics from my Poland trip from last year. I got to meet up with the mama, where she reunited with friends she had not seen in 30 years. They live in Górki Wielkie, in the province of Silesia, Poland, where I was born, and staying there in their home filled with trinkets from their Indian travels and beyond, I came across beautiful painterly portraits done by their one daughter, saw quiet photos of the pope, met a boy who loves to walk with his owner every morning through the woods to get fresh milk from the diary nearby, stumbled upon tucked away tree alters, picked blueberries fresh off an obliging hill,and ate wonderful home-cooked meals including first, second and third śniadanko (breakfast) every day, cycled through quiets forests and towns, visited a snow slope waiting for winter, and watched the seasons slowly change. As Thoreau always eloquently puts it, we can never have enough of nature.







Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...