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Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.
And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.
Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.
A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.
Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.
I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.
Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.
I went in, and found I had the church to myself.
Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.
I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.
That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.
I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.
The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.
I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.
At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.
I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.
A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.
This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.
There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.
Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.
It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.
We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.
Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.
I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.
Two hundred and sixty Now what?
Well, nothing. Really.
So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.
Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.
Or would do come six.
Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.
Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.
Ready.
I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.
We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....
We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.
We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.
Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.
I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.
It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.
-------------------------------------------
The Hospital of St Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge was founded in the 12th century in Canterbury, England, to provide overnight accommodation for poor pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas Becket. It is now one of the ten almshouses still providing accommodation for elderly citizens of Canterbury[1] and is a grade I listed building.
The hospital is situated on the King's-bridge, near the Westgate, in Canterbury. It was established sometime after the death of Thomas Becket (1170), possibly as early as 1176, when Canterbury Cathedral became a site of pilgrimage; the hospital provided accommodation for the pilgrims. The earliest name recorded as founder is that of Edward FitzOdbold c. 1190, with further endowments by Archbishop Hubert Walter about 1203.[1] For many years, no special statutes were enacted, nor were any rules laid down for the treatment of pilgrims.
The original building consists of an entrance hall, undercroft, refectory and chapel, all built in around 1190. Like the ancient Entrance Hall beneath it, the Pilgrims’ Chapel dates from the twelfth century, but assumed its present proportions in the fourteenth century. The roof of the Pilgrims’ Chapel is a fine example of its kind: the style of woodwork and joinery indicate that it was built around 1285. The Undercroft's original function was as a dormitory, and architecturally shows the period of time where the round-headed arch was giving way to the Gothic style of pointed arch.
The Refectory is a large open room originally used as a dining space. On the north wall is a painting of Our Lord in Glory between the symbols of the four Evangelists dating from the thirteenth century. This fresco was only uncovered when the chimney and fireplace installed around the time of the dissolution were removed in 1879, and it has been conserved since its revelation.
Approval for the funding of a Chantry Chapel was sanctioned by Archbishop Sudbury in 1375; the original document confirming this endowment is housed in the Canterbury Cathedral archives. (Chantries were abolished in 1547, and this fell into disrepair until it was reclaimed and restored for its original use in 1969.)
Hospital of St. Thomas, Canterbury, old engraving.
In the fourteenth century the hospital was reformed by Archbishop John de Stratford, during the reign of Edward III; he created ordinances, as well as a code of regulations to be acted on concerning pilgrims. He ruled that every pilgrim in health could rest in the hospital for one night at the cost of four pence, that weak and infirm applicants were to be preferred to those with better health, and that women "upwards of forty" should attend to the bedding and administer medicines to the sick. He also appointed a Master in priest's orders, under whose guidance a secular chaplain served. Further lands and revenues from parishes were given by Stratford and by Archbishop Simon Sudbury.[1]
This institution survived the Dissolution of the Monasteries and other religious houses during the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, although the pilgrimage to St Thomas of Canterbury did not survive this period. In 1569 Archbishop Matthew Parker issued new ordinances governing the Hospital and its Master which specified the maintenance of twelve beds for the 'wayfaring poor' and established a school in the chapel for twenty boys. This arrangement was confirmed by Archbishop John Whitgift by Act of Parliament in 1584.[1]
The school survived until 1879. The chapel was then little used until its restoration by the Master in 1927. Further restoration work has taken place during the twentieth century. Much of this work was financed by sale of some of the hospital's lands at Blean at the foundation of the University of Kent in the 1960s.[1] A list of the Masters of the Eastbridge Hospital up to the end of the eighteenth century is given by Edward Hasted.
Between 2014–2019, extensive restoration took place to preserve those rooms situated directly over the River Stour. This work was supported by the Viridor Credits scheme, which funds community, heritage, and biodiversity projects. It was formally opened to the public by the Bishop of Dover on 23 March 2019, and named after Archbishop William Juxon, who was a generous benefactor during his tenure, and gave money for an earlier restoration of this part of Eastbridge.
Eastbridge is a functional almshouse to this day, providing accommodation in eight individual apartments in areas of the buildings inaccessible to the public. Eastbridge is administered by Trustees whose main aims are the maintenance of the ancient buildings, which are of national historic interest, and the welfare of the almshouse residents (Indwellers).
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastbridge_Hospital_of_St_Thomas_th...
Berkeley gutter punks class it up a bit when they wander into the Gourmet Ghetto to sit and lie on the median outside Cheeseboard.
Nikon 35 1.8 @ f/4.
Double headed by GB Railfreight 66743 and 66746 hauling 10 coaches, this left Gloucester as the 1Z79 at 04:30 then travelled via Bristol, Exeter, Dawlish and Teignmouth to Newton Abbott where it changed direction and went via Castle Cary and Westbury to Bath, arriving 10:00. It then formed the 5Z79 empty working to St Philips Marsh. The return from Bath was the 1Z81 at 13:08 to Banbury via Salisbury, Southampton, Reading and Oxford. This train was on a 7 night tour of Great Britain starting and finishing in Edinburgh, the summary below taken from the Royal Scotsman website:
Highlights of the Grand Tour of Great Britain:
Seven-night journey aboard the Royal Scotsman luxury train
Steward service (24-hours)
All meals aboard the train: full Scottish breakfasts, three-course lunches, four-course dinners, which include cheeseboard and petits fours
All beverages including alcoholic drinks
Visit to Rothiemurchus Estate with clay pigeon shooting
Tour of Culloden Battlefield and the Strathisla Distillery
Visit Chester Cathedral and a private evening drinks reception at Gwydir Castle
Steam-train journey to Snowdonia National Park onboard the Welsh Highland Railway
Private tour of Plas Cadnant Gardens
Visit Bath with a guided tour of Roman baths
Cambridge tour, includes a private tour of the Parker library
Guided tour of York and visit to York Minster
Private Gala dinner at Alnwick Castle
Traditional entertainment on board.
Acton (a little like my home town of Croydon) isnât really associated with good food and drink, and on these grounds is often ignored by foodies. Whether that is true or not (and Iâd contest making that kind of judgement about ANY area!), there is at least one interesting thing for the gastronomically inclined to be found in Acton (well, two - if you count an Ancient Roman themed Italian takeaway called Hadrian'sâ¦)
As you have probably guessed, that âthing' is Vindinista, and having been there for one too many glasses of wine with my good friend and fellow wine writer Tim, I would like to tell you about it.
Vindinista is essentially a wine bar. And a tiny one at that (âtiny bar, huge attitude). I donât know how many they sit, but it canât be more than 30. Nothing too unusual there, right? Itâs what they serve thatâs interesting. The motto at Vindinista is âwine liberationâ. They have a pretty eclectic selection of vino (lesser known producers, styles, regions & grapes) and they focus (in their own words) on âwines off the beaten pathâ. The list changes very regularly, and many of these lesser known wines are available by the glass too (joy!). Vindinista is owned by Paola Tich - a wine blogger of some note. We didnât get to meet her, instead spending time with a slightly Rockabilly Kiwi guy called Stacey.
Theyâre open Tuesday-Sunday, 5pm-late, and are walk in only. Theyâre also very popular with the locals - we saw plenty of clearly familiar faces come and go in the time we where there. They clearly have their regulars â there were small groups of friends gathering together, couples on boozy excursions and a French waiter from fancy French bar who was very keen to play us some French pop music.
How about the food? Itâs bar food, on a par with the kind of stuff youâd get in a good gastropub (Modern British, mainly?). We had possibly the best cheese toastie ever conceived by man (black truffle + some indescribable voodoo), but look out for pork and duck charcuterie boards, potted shrimps from Upton Smokery and more cheeseboards. Basically these guys really love cheese. They apparently run the odd supper club as well, though I canât tell you too much about that.
Vindinista opened in February 2015, and is an offshoot of the Park+Bridge wine store (âyour neighbourhood wine shopâ - even when your neighbourhood is 20 miles away...) just across the road. And the great news about THIS is that if you find a wine that you really enjoy at Vindinista, all you need to do is wander across the road and pick up a bottle...
Second weekend of the annual Heritage event. It seems wrong to call it a weekend as it now compromises two weekends and many meedweek events too.
And scanning the events, there were some in Canterbury, so we decide to head to the city for a wander: jools would go shopping while I would go and do some snapping.
Of course there is always shopping first. Off to Tesco to fill the car, then fill the fridge and larder. I am away for three days, nearly four, so not much needed on top of some ready meals for Jools. Still came to seventy quid, mind.
A tub of cheese footballs did fall into the trolley, which helped.
Back home for breakfast of fruit and more coffee, and then off to Canterbury, parking near St Augustine's Abbey, walking to the centre via a subway. We parted, Jools went to Body Shop and a couple of other shops, while I walked down High Street, past the Eastbridge Hospital, Westgate Tower, Canterbury West station to St Dunstan's.
I could say I walked straight there, but I had a quarter of an hour to play with, so when I walked past a pasty shop, I went in for a coffee, and although wasn't really hungry, I did have a pasty anyway.
Once fed and watered, I walk on, up the hill past the station, and on the left was the church, the door already open despite it being only five to nine.
I went in, and found I had the church to myself.
Last time I was here, the Roper Chapel was being renovated and so I couldn't get inside. Important as it is in the chapel that the head of Thomas Moor, beheaded on Tower Hill on orders of Henry VIII. The windows of the chapel have several representation of him and scenes from his life. I snap them all.
I go round with the wide angle lens, now the church is fully open again.
That done, I walk back down into the centre heading for Eastbridge Hospital.
I have been here before, a decade ago, when I went round with just my wide angle lens, and go a few poor shots. So, with it being open for the Heritage Event, it seemed a good idea to go.
The hospital is ancient, it goes without saying, and is still in use.
I have walked up and down High Street in Canterbury dozens of times, and never really thought about what lay behind buildings on the west side.
At Eastbridge the ancient hospital straddles the Stour, or one branch of it, on the other is the timber framed house, Weavers, with the ducking stool further downstream.
I re-visited the hospital, and on the way out was told I could visit the gardens and Greyfriars Chapel at the same time.
A shop, former pawnbrokers, is now a charity shop for the gardens, and through the shop there is an exit to a path beside the river.
This opens out into two acres of gardens, still used to feed the patients in the hospital, and the monks who still live and work here.
There used to be a large priory church here, and there are parts of ancient walls and ruins to be seen, as well as a bridge of the same age.
Over the river, a former lodging building from the 13th century, as been converted into a chapel, Greyfriars, with pillars supporting the building as the river passes through a tunnel under it.
It was rather like walking through a wardrobe into a magical place, with the Stour gently flowing through it, and a few other visitors making their was to the Chapel and surrounding gardens.
We sat for 45 minutes in the meadow waiting for a service to end, so I could get shots. So, we people watched and delighted in Migrant Hawkers flying by.
Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent The sounds of the city seemed a hundred miles away.
I got the shots once the group of ladies left, and once I had the three shots, we followed sign to the exit, leaving the garden through a plane gate beside the old post office.
Two hundred and sixty Now what?
Well, nothing. Really.
So, we walk back slowly to the car, pay for three hours parking and drive back out of the city, down the A2 to the coast and home.
Back in time to listen to the footy, have a brew and try to avoid eating as we were going out in the evening. As, on Monday, it will be 14 years since we married, and as I will be in another country Monday, we celebrated it two days early.
Or would do come six.
Norwich were going for seven wins in a row, but never really got going against WBA, and fell a goal behind early on. Better in the second half, and drew level thanks to a deflection, but no win. But also, no defeat either.
Franciscan Gardens, Canterbury, Kent I had a shower and put on some clean clothes and a splash of aftershave.
Ready.
I drive us to Jen's, picked her up, then drove slowly to Sandwich, then over the marshes through Preston to Stourmouth.
We were not the only customers; there was a wedding reception, and there were gentlement and boys in three piece suits, and ladies and girls in glamourous gowns and neck-breaking heels. Occasionally the bride would literally sweep through the bar, the train of her dress cleaning as it went. Not sure if what was the right colour.....
We had ordered when I booked the table, a huge pan of paella with chorizo, chicken, ham and shrimp. Jen and I shared a bottle of red, and we ate and watched the comings and goings as the wedding party got ever more rauocus.
We rounded off with a cheeseboard between the three of us, and that was it.
Jools drove us back to Jen's, dropping her off, then back home.
I had decided to open the bottle of port once home, and did. This has been on the shelf since my last trip to Denmark and I saw it at the airport duty free.
It was every bit of good that I hoped it would be.
-------------------------------------------
The Hospital of St Thomas the Martyr of Eastbridge was founded in the 12th century in Canterbury, England, to provide overnight accommodation for poor pilgrims to the shrine of St Thomas Becket. It is now one of the ten almshouses still providing accommodation for elderly citizens of Canterbury[1] and is a grade I listed building.
The hospital is situated on the King's-bridge, near the Westgate, in Canterbury. It was established sometime after the death of Thomas Becket (1170), possibly as early as 1176, when Canterbury Cathedral became a site of pilgrimage; the hospital provided accommodation for the pilgrims. The earliest name recorded as founder is that of Edward FitzOdbold c. 1190, with further endowments by Archbishop Hubert Walter about 1203.[1] For many years, no special statutes were enacted, nor were any rules laid down for the treatment of pilgrims.
The original building consists of an entrance hall, undercroft, refectory and chapel, all built in around 1190. Like the ancient Entrance Hall beneath it, the Pilgrims’ Chapel dates from the twelfth century, but assumed its present proportions in the fourteenth century. The roof of the Pilgrims’ Chapel is a fine example of its kind: the style of woodwork and joinery indicate that it was built around 1285. The Undercroft's original function was as a dormitory, and architecturally shows the period of time where the round-headed arch was giving way to the Gothic style of pointed arch.
The Refectory is a large open room originally used as a dining space. On the north wall is a painting of Our Lord in Glory between the symbols of the four Evangelists dating from the thirteenth century. This fresco was only uncovered when the chimney and fireplace installed around the time of the dissolution were removed in 1879, and it has been conserved since its revelation.
Approval for the funding of a Chantry Chapel was sanctioned by Archbishop Sudbury in 1375; the original document confirming this endowment is housed in the Canterbury Cathedral archives. (Chantries were abolished in 1547, and this fell into disrepair until it was reclaimed and restored for its original use in 1969.)
Hospital of St. Thomas, Canterbury, old engraving.
In the fourteenth century the hospital was reformed by Archbishop John de Stratford, during the reign of Edward III; he created ordinances, as well as a code of regulations to be acted on concerning pilgrims. He ruled that every pilgrim in health could rest in the hospital for one night at the cost of four pence, that weak and infirm applicants were to be preferred to those with better health, and that women "upwards of forty" should attend to the bedding and administer medicines to the sick. He also appointed a Master in priest's orders, under whose guidance a secular chaplain served. Further lands and revenues from parishes were given by Stratford and by Archbishop Simon Sudbury.[1]
This institution survived the Dissolution of the Monasteries and other religious houses during the reigns of Henry VIII and Edward VI, although the pilgrimage to St Thomas of Canterbury did not survive this period. In 1569 Archbishop Matthew Parker issued new ordinances governing the Hospital and its Master which specified the maintenance of twelve beds for the 'wayfaring poor' and established a school in the chapel for twenty boys. This arrangement was confirmed by Archbishop John Whitgift by Act of Parliament in 1584.[1]
The school survived until 1879. The chapel was then little used until its restoration by the Master in 1927. Further restoration work has taken place during the twentieth century. Much of this work was financed by sale of some of the hospital's lands at Blean at the foundation of the University of Kent in the 1960s.[1] A list of the Masters of the Eastbridge Hospital up to the end of the eighteenth century is given by Edward Hasted.
Between 2014–2019, extensive restoration took place to preserve those rooms situated directly over the River Stour. This work was supported by the Viridor Credits scheme, which funds community, heritage, and biodiversity projects. It was formally opened to the public by the Bishop of Dover on 23 March 2019, and named after Archbishop William Juxon, who was a generous benefactor during his tenure, and gave money for an earlier restoration of this part of Eastbridge.
Eastbridge is a functional almshouse to this day, providing accommodation in eight individual apartments in areas of the buildings inaccessible to the public. Eastbridge is administered by Trustees whose main aims are the maintenance of the ancient buildings, which are of national historic interest, and the welfare of the almshouse residents (Indwellers).
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastbridge_Hospital_of_St_Thomas_th...
Over the past 4 years I collected lots of miniature items, like dishes and furnitures, (here you can see only some of them) but I can't find the time to organize them in the 'Mini Bakery & Pastry Shop' that I built for my blythe.
But look! I made her some meals - Breakfast, Cheese & Wine, Breads, etc in 1:12 scale.
Goat and sheep cheeses, fruit, almonds and old red wine - a great combination! Someone has already started to eat the Pouligny, on the right! Paris Nov 07. This picture made Explore.
Sunday 15 July 2012: Les Bossons (Chamonix-Mont Blanc) - Les Praz - La Flégère - Réserve Naturelle des Aiguilles Rouges (Aiguilles Rouges Nature Reserve) - Col des Montets - Les Frasserands
Day 2 of our Tour du Mont Blanc, on Exodus' Mont Blanc Circuit trip - a clockwise circumambulation of the Mont Blanc massif
We woke to rain, and after a damp breakfast and our first tussle with Kili (we had to pack up our "2 Seconds + III" each morning - it's not easy wrangling a c160cm diameter dome tent back into its 81cm diameter flat pack carrying case) we loaded our main packs into the van, said au revoir to Ben and headed off with Simon to catch the bus from Les Bossons school to the nearby village of Les Praz.
The TĂ©lĂ©phĂ©rique de la FlĂ©gère took us up from the Chamonix-Mont Blanc valley floor up to La FlĂ©gère at 1,894 m, where we swopped rain for cloud and a good few °C. Togged up in windproofs and waterproofs, we headed off along the footpath following the signs for Col des Montets - Simon had told us that the poor weather conditions meant that we would not be able do the planned high level route via Lac Blanc with its vertical ladders...
Still, the cloud and raindrops made for lovely flower photos in the Aiguilles Rouges National Nature Reserve, and Waiora and I got some glimpses of glaciers on the far side of the valley ahead and behind, waterfalls and the bright green lichen on the rich red iron rich gneiss rocks that give the Aiguilles Rouges mountains their name - the Red Needles. There's something quite magical about walking through the quietude of cloud.
As the day wore on, the skies cleared and we got better views of mountains above us and across the valley, including the Glacier du Tour. Waiora and I even had our own close encounter with a pair of Ibex, grazing in between the Alpine Rose (Rhododendrons) that cover the mountainsides in this part of the world. Shortly after, having enjoyed an easy day's walking along undulating path (the cable car having done the hard work of the ascent for us) we started the steep, zig zagging descent back down to the road, where we rendezvoused with Simon at the information centre at Col des Montets (1461m).
A short stroll later we were walking through the bucolic alpine village of Les Frasserands, where we found the rest of the group soaking up the sun at the campsite. After a rather late lunch, Hazel and I wandered into the town with Vicki and Rachel and treated ourselves to a jug of Jupiler beer served by a waitress from Wolverhampton at a bar in the village centre. A bit too cool to loiter for long once the sun went in/down.
Dinner was a feast served up in the dining room at Camping Les Frasserands - complete with a magnificent cheeseboard....
DSC04926
We woke at quarter to six in Swindon.
Outside it was warm and cloudy. But with the promise of sunshine later.
We had a shower, dressed and was down fr breakfast for half six, with all bar the cooked food ready.
So, we filled our boots with fruit and coffee before the fry up was brought. Aroud us, young red-eyed familes ate in a daze, and men in work clothes got ready for their last working day of the week.
We had a 90 minute drive, so we turned out of the car park at seven, across the huge roundabout ond onto the M4 heading due west for Bath, Bristol and Wales.
We put the radio on, and as the cruised through the Wiltshire countryside, the clouds above thinned and the sun broke through.
It was going to be a perfect day for orchiding.
We crossed over the new bridge ito Wales, traffic was heavier, but it flowed well, and all around the weather improved.
Past Newport and Cardiff beofre trning off to the coast, lead by the sat nav into which I had programmed the postcode. Although that wasn't enough, as the post coast was a gated farm track.
We tried to drive into the nearest town, and there was no reserve, but on the way out I saw a brown sign with a waterfowl, the symbol for a reserve.
Getting close now.
We arrived, and already the car park was half full, because sadly most people use reserves as dog exercise areas, and we were to be harassed and harried all our visit but aggressive small and larger dog and owners who don't give a toss.
I was here to see a rarer colour variation of the Early Marsh, but Kenfig is also home to the only western colony of Fen Orchids. I had seen these in Norfolk a few years back, but as were here, and someone on Twitter supplied me with a grid reference and good directions, as the orchids are tiny.
So, we went via a maze of tracks, heading mostly west, through coppices and dunes, until there was a large open area of grass.
And orchids.
And there were the magenta coloured EMO.
I filled my boots.
Then, to find the Fens.
Beside one dune that looked just like any other, some work had been done last year to disturb the soil, and here, if we looked hard enough, would be the orchids.
What I saw were hundreds of Marsh Helleborine rosettes putting up spikes, more than I have seen since I was on the Snook.
But then I saw the familiar spike, with two rounded leaves wrapped round the spike.
But not in flower.
We looked more, and found three more spikes, but none in flower.
Then Jools called, and by a short piece of bamboo, there were two flowering spikes, barely 4cm tall.
I got my pictures and we turned for the car, meeting folks on the way who showed us a good spot for dragonflies. We saw damsels, though they were flighty, and then a couple of dragons, but neither settled. Sure one was either a Norfolk of Brown Hawker, but can't be sure.
We reached the car and programmed the hotel in: 117 miles and nearly four hours away.
We drove back to the motorway, past a music festival with people arriving carrying tents and coolers.
We drove on.
Back onto the M4, before turning up through Neath and up and up to Brecon.
At the highest point of the pass, miles of cars parked on the verge, and a line of folks in bright rainware heading further up.
It was packed. So we drove on.
Down the otherside, we came to a greasy spoon, where we stopped and had coffee with "posh" sausage rolls and cakes, whole sitting in deckchairs provided, so we could look on the traffic as we ate.
We drove on, looking for a pub in which to whet our whistle. But there were none. For over an hour we passed through towns and villages, but no pubs were seen, The one we did find, was closed and locked.
We had over an hour to kill, so
We drove on.
Within twenty miles of the hotel we came upon a Red Lion, they were not doing food, but they had beer.
We supped our ales sitting in the beer garden, while around birds sang in joy.
Not a bad spot.
We had an hour to kill, so needed to stop. I saw signs for Welshpool, so thought we would call in. And I knew there was a narrow gauge railway here, maybe it would be working?
Being the second bank holiday of the Jubilee, and just after three, there wasn't much happening in town. Jools went to Boots to get supplies for her cold, and I wandered around taking shots.
We went into a coffee shop for a brew. I made the mistake of having a flavoured latte, but turned down the sugar when offered. Good job, as I had forgotten how sweet coffee with syrup could be, even with an extra shot of espresso in.
But we had killed an hour, so could go to the pub and our home for the next week.
We reached the hotel at four, Bob the landlord was expecting us, and poured me a pint in welcome, as was a fellow armourer in a previous life.
Our toom is up two steep flights of stairs, but we have three rooms, two beds, two TVs and a bathroom. Which will do.
We went down for dinner, I feasted on steak and ale pie. Homemade, while Jools has chicken Kyiv.
We had a cheeseboard, and a wine, before weariness swept over us, and we headed back up them steep stairs to bed.
Sunday 15 July 2012: Les Bossons (Chamonix-Mont Blanc) - Les Praz - La Flégère - Réserve Naturelle des Aiguilles Rouges (Aiguilles Rouges Nature Reserve) - Col des Montets - Les Frasserands
Day 2 of our Tour du Mont Blanc, on Exodus' Mont Blanc Circuit trip - a clockwise circumambulation of the Mont Blanc massif
We woke to rain, and after a damp breakfast and our first tussle with Kili (we had to pack up our "2 Seconds + III" each morning - it's not easy wrangling a c160cm diameter dome tent back into its 81cm diameter flat pack carrying case) we loaded our main packs into the van, said au revoir to Ben and headed off with Simon to catch the bus from Les Bossons school to the nearby village of Les Praz.
The TĂ©lĂ©phĂ©rique de la FlĂ©gère took us up from the Chamonix-Mont Blanc valley floor up to La FlĂ©gère at 1,894 m, where we swopped rain for cloud and a good few °C. Togged up in windproofs and waterproofs, we headed off along the footpath following the signs for Col des Montets- Simon had told us that the poor weather conditions meant that we would not be able do the planned high level route via Lac Blanc with its vertical ladders...
Still, the cloud and raindrops made for lovely flower photos in the Aiguilles Rouges National Nature Reserve, and Waiora and I got some glimpses of glaciers on the far side of the valley ahead and behind, waterfalls and the bright green lichen on the rich red iron rich gneiss rocks that give the Aiguilles Rouges mountains their name - the Red Needles. There's something quite magical about walking through the quietude of cloud.
As the day wore on, the skies cleared and we got better views of mountains above us and across the valley, including the Glacier du Tour. Waiora and I even had our own close encounter with a pair of Ibex, grazing in between the Alpine Rose (Rhododendrons) that cover the mountainsides in this part of the world. Shortly after, having enjoyed an easy day's walking along undulating path (the cable car having done the hard work of the ascent for us) we started the steep, zig zagging descent back down to the road, where we rendezvoused with Simon at the information centre at Col des Montets (1461m).
A short stroll later we were walking through the bucolic alpine village of Les Frasserands, where we found the rest of the group soaking up the sun at the campsite. After a rather late lunch, Hazel and I wandered into the town with Vicki and Rachel and treated ourselves to a jug of Jupiler beer served by a waitress from Wolverhampton at a bar in the village centre. A bit too cool to loiter for long once the sun went in/down.
Dinner was a feast served up in the dining room at Camping Les Frasserands - complete with a magnificent cheeseboard....
DSC04910
We woke at quarter to six in Swindon.
Outside it was warm and cloudy. But with the promise of sunshine later.
We had a shower, dressed and was down fr breakfast for half six, with all bar the cooked food ready.
So, we filled our boots with fruit and coffee before the fry up was brought. Aroud us, young red-eyed familes ate in a daze, and men in work clothes got ready for their last working day of the week.
We had a 90 minute drive, so we turned out of the car park at seven, across the huge roundabout ond onto the M4 heading due west for Bath, Bristol and Wales.
We put the radio on, and as the cruised through the Wiltshire countryside, the clouds above thinned and the sun broke through.
It was going to be a perfect day for orchiding.
We crossed over the new bridge ito Wales, traffic was heavier, but it flowed well, and all around the weather improved.
Past Newport and Cardiff beofre trning off to the coast, lead by the sat nav into which I had programmed the postcode. Although that wasn't enough, as the post coast was a gated farm track.
We tried to drive into the nearest town, and there was no reserve, but on the way out I saw a brown sign with a waterfowl, the symbol for a reserve.
Getting close now.
We arrived, and already the car park was half full, because sadly most people use reserves as dog exercise areas, and we were to be harassed and harried all our visit but aggressive small and larger dog and owners who don't give a toss.
I was here to see a rarer colour variation of the Early Marsh, but Kenfig is also home to the only western colony of Fen Orchids. I had seen these in Norfolk a few years back, but as were here, and someone on Twitter supplied me with a grid reference and good directions, as the orchids are tiny.
So, we went via a maze of tracks, heading mostly west, through coppices and dunes, until there was a large open area of grass.
And orchids.
And there were the magenta coloured EMO.
I filled my boots.
Then, to find the Fens.
Beside one dune that looked just like any other, some work had been done last year to disturb the soil, and here, if we looked hard enough, would be the orchids.
What I saw were hundreds of Marsh Helleborine rosettes putting up spikes, more than I have seen since I was on the Snook.
But then I saw the familiar spike, with two rounded leaves wrapped round the spike.
But not in flower.
We looked more, and found three more spikes, but none in flower.
Then Jools called, and by a short piece of bamboo, there were two flowering spikes, barely 4cm tall.
I got my pictures and we turned for the car, meeting folks on the way who showed us a good spot for dragonflies. We saw damsels, though they were flighty, and then a couple of dragons, but neither settled. Sure one was either a Norfolk of Brown Hawker, but can't be sure.
We reached the car and programmed the hotel in: 117 miles and nearly four hours away.
We drove back to the motorway, past a music festival with people arriving carrying tents and coolers.
We drove on.
Back onto the M4, before turning up through Neath and up and up to Brecon.
At the highest point of the pass, miles of cars parked on the verge, and a line of folks in bright rainware heading further up.
It was packed. So we drove on.
Down the otherside, we came to a greasy spoon, where we stopped and had coffee with "posh" sausage rolls and cakes, whole sitting in deckchairs provided, so we could look on the traffic as we ate.
We drove on, looking for a pub in which to whet our whistle. But there were none. For over an hour we passed through towns and villages, but no pubs were seen, The one we did find, was closed and locked.
We had over an hour to kill, so
We drove on.
Within twenty miles of the hotel we came upon a Red Lion, they were not doing food, but they had beer.
We supped our ales sitting in the beer garden, while around birds sang in joy.
Not a bad spot.
We had an hour to kill, so needed to stop. I saw signs for Welshpool, so thought we would call in. And I knew there was a narrow gauge railway here, maybe it would be working?
Being the second bank holiday of the Jubilee, and just after three, there wasn't much happening in town. Jools went to Boots to get supplies for her cold, and I wandered around taking shots.
We went into a coffee shop for a brew. I made the mistake of having a flavoured latte, but turned down the sugar when offered. Good job, as I had forgotten how sweet coffee with syrup could be, even with an extra shot of espresso in.
But we had killed an hour, so could go to the pub and our home for the next week.
We reached the hotel at four, Bob the landlord was expecting us, and poured me a pint in welcome, as was a fellow armourer in a previous life.
Our toom is up two steep flights of stairs, but we have three rooms, two beds, two TVs and a bathroom. Which will do.
We went down for dinner, I feasted on steak and ale pie. Homemade, while Jools has chicken Kyiv.
We had a cheeseboard, and a wine, before weariness swept over us, and we headed back up them steep stairs to bed.
Sunday 15 July 2012: Les Bossons (Chamonix-Mont Blanc) - Les Praz - La Flégère - Réserve Naturelle des Aiguilles Rouges (Aiguilles Rouges Nature Reserve) - Col des Montets - Les Frasserands
Day 2 of our Tour du Mont Blanc, on Exodus' Mont Blanc Circuit trip - a clockwise circumambulation of the Mont Blanc massif
We woke to rain, and after a damp breakfast and our first tussle with Kili (we had to pack up our "2 Seconds + III" each morning - it's not easy wrangling a c160cm diameter dome tent back into its 81cm diameter flat pack carrying case) we loaded our main packs into the van, said au revoir to Ben and headed off with Simon to catch the bus from Les Bossons school to the nearby village of Les Praz.
The TĂ©lĂ©phĂ©rique de la FlĂ©gère took us up from the Chamonix-Mont Blanc valley floor up to La FlĂ©gère at 1,894 m, where we swopped rain for cloud and a good few °C. Togged up in windproofs and waterproofs, we headed off along the footpath following the signs for Col des Montets - Simon had told us that the poor weather conditions meant that we would not be able do the planned high level route via Lac Blanc with its vertical ladders...
Still, the cloud and raindrops made for lovely flower photos in the Aiguilles Rouges National Nature Reserve, and Waiora and I got some glimpses of glaciers on the far side of the valley ahead and behind, waterfalls and the bright green lichen on the rich red iron rich gneiss rocks that give the Aiguilles Rouges mountains their name - the Red Needles. There's something quite magical about walking through the quietude of cloud.
As the day wore on, the skies cleared and we got better views of mountains above us and across the valley, including the Glacier du Tour. Waiora and I even had our own close encounter with a pair of Ibex, grazing in between the Alpine Rose (Rhododendrons) that cover the mountainsides in this part of the world. Shortly after, having enjoyed an easy day's walking along undulating path (the cable car having done the hard work of the ascent for us) we started the steep, zig zagging descent back down to the road, where we rendezvoused with Simon at the information centre at Col des Montets (1461m).
A short stroll later we were walking through the bucolic alpine village of Les Frasserands, where we found the rest of the group soaking up the sun at the campsite. After a rather late lunch, Hazel and I wandered into the town with Vicki and Rachel and treated ourselves to a jug of Jupiler beer served by a waitress from Wolverhampton at a bar in the village centre. A bit too cool to loiter for long once the sun went in/down.
Dinner was a feast served up in the dining room at Camping Les Frasserands - complete with a magnificent cheeseboard....
DSC04963
Acton (a little like my home town of Croydon) isnât really associated with good food and drink, and on these grounds is often ignored by foodies. Whether that is true or not (and Iâd contest making that kind of judgement about ANY area!), there is at least one interesting thing for the gastronomically inclined to be found in Acton (well, two - if you count an Ancient Roman themed Italian takeaway called Hadrian'sâ¦)
As you have probably guessed, that âthing' is Vindinista, and having been there for one too many glasses of wine with my good friend and fellow wine writer Tim, I would like to tell you about it.
Vindinista is essentially a wine bar. And a tiny one at that (âtiny bar, huge attitude). I donât know how many they sit, but it canât be more than 30. Nothing too unusual there, right? Itâs what they serve thatâs interesting. The motto at Vindinista is âwine liberationâ. They have a pretty eclectic selection of vino (lesser known producers, styles, regions & grapes) and they focus (in their own words) on âwines off the beaten pathâ. The list changes very regularly, and many of these lesser known wines are available by the glass too (joy!). Vindinista is owned by Paola Tich - a wine blogger of some note. We didnât get to meet her, instead spending time with a slightly Rockabilly Kiwi guy called Stacey.
Theyâre open Tuesday-Sunday, 5pm-late, and are walk in only. Theyâre also very popular with the locals - we saw plenty of clearly familiar faces come and go in the time we where there. They clearly have their regulars â there were small groups of friends gathering together, couples on boozy excursions and a French waiter from fancy French bar who was very keen to play us some French pop music.
How about the food? Itâs bar food, on a par with the kind of stuff youâd get in a good gastropub (Modern British, mainly?). We had possibly the best cheese toastie ever conceived by man (black truffle + some indescribable voodoo), but look out for pork and duck charcuterie boards, potted shrimps from Upton Smokery and more cheeseboards. Basically these guys really love cheese. They apparently run the odd supper club as well, though I canât tell you too much about that.
Vindinista opened in February 2015, and is an offshoot of the Park+Bridge wine store (âyour neighbourhood wine shopâ - even when your neighbourhood is 20 miles away...) just across the road. And the great news about THIS is that if you find a wine that you really enjoy at Vindinista, all you need to do is wander across the road and pick up a bottle...
More of a visual note to myself than anything else, these wines are what we drank at our party on Saturday.
Not the wines from last week's party, though those were delicious.
Thanks to Lisa & Josh for sharing the Newton, J, & Banyuls. Thanks to James & Jeffrey for sharing the Phelps. And thanks to meriko for bringing the Poete the week before!
We drank them in the order shown, from left to right:
-2 sparklers with our opening platter of thinly sliced house cured duck ham, our olives, radishes, Fatted Calf mortadella & rabbit rillettes, fried lemon slices, plus Acme pain d'epi. Also with our salad of mixed greens, including sorrel, cherries, toasted almonds, and goat cheese.
-Decanted the Newton, then the Phelps for our duck confit atop potatoes, onions, and asparagus.
-J. pinot gris for the Cheeseboard selection: Beemster, Brie, & Gabietou with Acme walnut levain. Started drinking the Banyuls in there, too.
-The hot fudge sundaes with Derrick's chocolate chip ice cream & roasted banana ice cream didn't need any wine alongside.
-Who could resist sharing tastes of the Poete & nocino as digestifs? Not me!
www.obsessionwithfood.com/2007_06_01_blog-archive.html#33...
side note: We are now out of duck confit, but I'm sure that won't last long.
Acton (a little like my home town of Croydon) isnât really associated with good food and drink, and on these grounds is often ignored by foodies. Whether that is true or not (and Iâd contest making that kind of judgement about ANY area!), there is at least one interesting thing for the gastronomically inclined to be found in Acton (well, two - if you count an Ancient Roman themed Italian takeaway called Hadrian'sâ¦)
As you have probably guessed, that âthing' is Vindinista, and having been there for one too many glasses of wine with my good friend and fellow wine writer Tim, I would like to tell you about it.
Vindinista is essentially a wine bar. And a tiny one at that (âtiny bar, huge attitude). I donât know how many they sit, but it canât be more than 30. Nothing too unusual there, right? Itâs what they serve thatâs interesting. The motto at Vindinista is âwine liberationâ. They have a pretty eclectic selection of vino (lesser known producers, styles, regions & grapes) and they focus (in their own words) on âwines off the beaten pathâ. The list changes very regularly, and many of these lesser known wines are available by the glass too (joy!). Vindinista is owned by Paola Tich - a wine blogger of some note. We didnât get to meet her, instead spending time with a slightly Rockabilly Kiwi guy called Stacey.
Theyâre open Tuesday-Sunday, 5pm-late, and are walk in only. Theyâre also very popular with the locals - we saw plenty of clearly familiar faces come and go in the time we where there. They clearly have their regulars â there were small groups of friends gathering together, couples on boozy excursions and a French waiter from fancy French bar who was very keen to play us some French pop music.
How about the food? Itâs bar food, on a par with the kind of stuff youâd get in a good gastropub (Modern British, mainly?). We had possibly the best cheese toastie ever conceived by man (black truffle + some indescribable voodoo), but look out for pork and duck charcuterie boards, potted shrimps from Upton Smokery and more cheeseboards. Basically these guys really love cheese. They apparently run the odd supper club as well, though I canât tell you too much about that.
Vindinista opened in February 2015, and is an offshoot of the Park+Bridge wine store (âyour neighbourhood wine shopâ - even when your neighbourhood is 20 miles away...) just across the road. And the great news about THIS is that if you find a wine that you really enjoy at Vindinista, all you need to do is wander across the road and pick up a bottle...
Sunday 15 July 2012: Les Bossons (Chamonix-Mont Blanc) - Les Praz - La Flégère - Réserve Naturelle des Aiguilles Rouges (Aiguilles Rouges Nature Reserve) - Col des Montets - Les Frasserands
Day 2 of our Tour du Mont Blanc, on Exodus' Mont Blanc Circuit trip - a clockwise circumambulation of the Mont Blanc massif
We woke to rain, and after a damp breakfast and our first tussle with Kili (we had to pack up our "2 Seconds + III" each morning - it's not easy wrangling a c160cm diameter dome tent back into its 81cm diameter flat pack carrying case) we loaded our main packs into the van, said au revoir to Ben and headed off with Simon to catch the bus from Les Bossons school to the nearby village of Les Praz.
The TĂ©lĂ©phĂ©rique de la FlĂ©gère took us up from the Chamonix-Mont Blanc valley floor up to La FlĂ©gère at 1,894 m, where we swopped rain for cloud and a good few °C. Togged up in windproofs and waterproofs, we headed off along the footpath following the signs for Col des Montets - Simon had told us that the poor weather conditions meant that we would not be able do the planned high level route via Lac Blanc with its vertical ladders...
Still, the cloud and raindrops made for lovely flower photos in the Aiguilles Rouges National Nature Reserve, and Waiora and I got some glimpses of glaciers on the far side of the valley ahead and behind, waterfalls and the bright green lichen on the rich red iron rich gneiss rocks that give the Aiguilles Rouges mountains their name - the Red Needles. There's something quite magical about walking through the quietude of cloud.
As the day wore on, the skies cleared and we got better views of mountains above us and across the valley, including the Glacier du Tour. Waiora and I even had our own close encounter with a pair of Ibex, grazing in between the Alpine Rose (Rhododendrons) that cover the mountainsides in this part of the world. Shortly after, having enjoyed an easy day's walking along undulating path (the cable car having done the hard work of the ascent for us) we started the steep, zig zagging descent back down to the road, where we rendezvoused with Simon at the information centre at Col des Montets (1461m).
A short stroll later we were walking through the bucolic alpine village of Les Frasserands, where we found the rest of the group soaking up the sun at the campsite. After a rather late lunch, Hazel and I wandered into the town with Vicki and Rachel and treated ourselves to a jug of Jupiler beer served by a waitress from Wolverhampton at a bar in the village centre. A bit too cool to loiter for long once the sun went in/down.
Dinner was a feast served up in the dining room at Camping Les Frasserands - complete with a magnificent cheeseboard....
DSC04833
Butternut squash, Dino kale, Cheddar cheese, Mozzarella, Sage oil -- from Cheeseboard Pizza Collective in Berkeley, CA.
L-R : Myself, Kev Coumbe, my other half Lesley, Mike Evans and yes twenty glasses of 10-year old and 20-year old vintage port and a rather nice cheeseboard. This the Quinta Do Noval wine shop or 'port lodge' as they are sometimes called at Vila Nova de Gaia on the south bank of the Douro River opposite Porto. A beautiful area to spend an evening as the bank is in sun unlike the shaded Ribiera on the opposite north bank in Porto. This was mine and Lesley's delayed 2020 holiday which was eventually re-booked to June 2022. Little did I know that my best mate Mike had booked a few days in Porto at the end of June for some 1400 bashing up the Douro Valley line. He knew I was going but not the dates. Then top Euro-ned Kev decided he'd have a week in Portugal starting on the Algarve and moving up north to meet Mike. Unbelievable. So this is the Tuesday evening get together when I dragged them away from Porto's craft beer bars for a few tipples of what Porto is most famous for.
Sunday 15 July 2012: Les Bossons (Chamonix-Mont Blanc) - Les Praz - La Flégère - Réserve Naturelle des Aiguilles Rouges (Aiguilles Rouges Nature Reserve) - Col des Montets - Les Frasserands
Day 2 of our Tour du Mont Blanc, on Exodus' Mont Blanc Circuit trip - a clockwise circumambulation of the Mont Blanc massif
We woke to rain, and after a damp breakfast and our first tussle with Kili (we had to pack up our "2 Seconds + III" each morning - it's not easy wrangling a c160cm diameter dome tent back into its 81cm diameter flat pack carrying case) we loaded our main packs into the van, said au revoir to Ben and headed off with Simon to catch the bus from Les Bossons school to the nearby village of Les Praz.
The TĂ©lĂ©phĂ©rique de la FlĂ©gère took us up from the Chamonix-Mont Blanc valley floor up to La FlĂ©gère at 1,894 m, where we swopped rain for cloud and a good few °C. Togged up in windproofs and waterproofs, we headed off along the footpath following the signs for Col des Montets - Simon had told us that the poor weather conditions meant that we would not be able do the planned high level route via Lac Blanc with its vertical ladders...
Still, the cloud and raindrops made for lovely flower photos in the Aiguilles Rouges National Nature Reserve, and Waiora and I got some glimpses of glaciers on the far side of the valley ahead and behind, waterfalls and the bright green lichen on the rich red iron rich gneiss rocks that give the Aiguilles Rouges mountains their name - the Red Needles. There's something quite magical about walking through the quietude of cloud.
As the day wore on, the skies cleared and we got better views of mountains above us and across the valley, including the Glacier du Tour. Waiora and I even had our own close encounter with a pair of Ibex, grazing in between the Alpine Rose (Rhododendrons) that cover the mountainsides in this part of the world. Shortly after, having enjoyed an easy day's walking along undulating path (the cable car having done the hard work of the ascent for us) we started the steep, zig zagging descent back down to the road, where we rendezvoused with Simon at the information centre at Col des Montets (1461m).
A short stroll later we were walking through the bucolic alpine village of Les Frasserands, where we found the rest of the group soaking up the sun at the campsite. After a rather late lunch, Hazel and I wandered into the town with Vicki and Rachel and treated ourselves to a jug of Jupiler beer served by a waitress from Wolverhampton at a bar in the village centre. A bit too cool to loiter for long once the sun went in/down.
Dinner was a feast served up in the dining room at Camping Les Frasserands - complete with a magnificent cheeseboard....
DSC04952
Acton (a little like my home town of Croydon) isnât really associated with good food and drink, and on these grounds is often ignored by foodies. Whether that is true or not (and Iâd contest making that kind of judgement about ANY area!), there is at least one interesting thing for the gastronomically inclined to be found in Acton (well, two - if you count an Ancient Roman themed Italian takeaway called Hadrian'sâ¦)
As you have probably guessed, that âthing' is Vindinista, and having been there for one too many glasses of wine with my good friend and fellow wine writer Tim, I would like to tell you about it.
Vindinista is essentially a wine bar. And a tiny one at that (âtiny bar, huge attitude). I donât know how many they sit, but it canât be more than 30. Nothing too unusual there, right? Itâs what they serve thatâs interesting. The motto at Vindinista is âwine liberationâ. They have a pretty eclectic selection of vino (lesser known producers, styles, regions & grapes) and they focus (in their own words) on âwines off the beaten pathâ. The list changes very regularly, and many of these lesser known wines are available by the glass too (joy!). Vindinista is owned by Paola Tich - a wine blogger of some note. We didnât get to meet her, instead spending time with a slightly Rockabilly Kiwi guy called Stacey.
Theyâre open Tuesday-Sunday, 5pm-late, and are walk in only. Theyâre also very popular with the locals - we saw plenty of clearly familiar faces come and go in the time we where there. They clearly have their regulars â there were small groups of friends gathering together, couples on boozy excursions and a French waiter from fancy French bar who was very keen to play us some French pop music.
How about the food? Itâs bar food, on a par with the kind of stuff youâd get in a good gastropub (Modern British, mainly?). We had possibly the best cheese toastie ever conceived by man (black truffle + some indescribable voodoo), but look out for pork and duck charcuterie boards, potted shrimps from Upton Smokery and more cheeseboards. Basically these guys really love cheese. They apparently run the odd supper club as well, though I canât tell you too much about that.
Vindinista opened in February 2015, and is an offshoot of the Park+Bridge wine store (âyour neighbourhood wine shopâ - even when your neighbourhood is 20 miles away...) just across the road. And the great news about THIS is that if you find a wine that you really enjoy at Vindinista, all you need to do is wander across the road and pick up a bottle...
Sunday 15 July 2012: Les Bossons (Chamonix-Mont Blanc) - Les Praz - La Flégère - Réserve Naturelle des Aiguilles Rouges (Aiguilles Rouges Nature Reserve) - Col des Montets - Les Frasserands
Day 2 of our Tour du Mont Blanc, on Exodus' Mont Blanc Circuit trip - a clockwise circumambulation of the Mont Blanc massif
We woke to rain, and after a damp breakfast and our first tussle with Kili (we had to pack up our "2 Seconds + III" each morning - it's not easy wrangling a c160cm diameter dome tent back into its 81cm diameter flat pack carrying case) we loaded our main packs into the van, said au revoir to Ben and headed off with Simon to catch the bus from Les Bossons school to the nearby village of Les Praz.
The TĂ©lĂ©phĂ©rique de la FlĂ©gère took us up from the Chamonix-Mont Blanc valley floor up to La FlĂ©gère at 1,894 m, where we swopped rain for cloud and a good few °C. Togged up in windproofs and waterproofs, we headed off along the footpath following the signs for Col des Montets- Simon had told us that the poor weather conditions meant that we would not be able do the planned high level route via Lac Blanc with its vertical ladders...
Still, the cloud and raindrops made for lovely flower photos in the Aiguilles Rouges National Nature Reserve, and Waiora and I got some glimpses of glaciers on the far side of the valley ahead and behind, waterfalls and the bright green lichen on the rich red iron rich gneiss rocks that give the Aiguilles Rouges mountains their name - the Red Needles. There's something quite magical about walking through the quietude of cloud.
As the day wore on, the skies cleared and we got better views of mountains above us and across the valley, including the Glacier du Tour. Waiora and I even had our own close encounter with a pair of Ibex, grazing in between the Alpine Rose (Rhododendrons) that cover the mountainsides in this part of the world. Shortly after, having enjoyed an easy day's walking along undulating path (the cable car having done the hard work of the ascent for us) we started the steep, zig zagging descent back down to the road, where we rendezvoused with Simon at the information centre at Col des Montets (1461m).
A short stroll later we were walking through the bucolic alpine village of Les Frasserands, where we found the rest of the group soaking up the sun at the campsite. After a rather late lunch, Hazel and I wandered into the town with Vicki and Rachel and treated ourselves to a jug of Jupiler beer served by a waitress from Wolverhampton at a bar in the village centre. A bit too cool to loiter for long once the sun went in/down.
Dinner was a feast served up in the dining room at Camping Les Frasserands - complete with a magnificent cheeseboard....
DSC04858
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