Lunch at The Grange

It was dark enough at lunchtime for us to relight last night's candles: we didn't expect November would bring deckchair weather, but the prolonged rain showers have become a bit repetitive. Even on a sunny day, this South-facing dining-room would need some illumination, with its "En Avant" wallpaper in a red/pink colourway, made to match the original, a piece of which was found beneath a door architrave.

Seven of us gathered round the table for quail stew, our last meal together, as some of us had to leave before nightfall.

It's been a glorious stay, dog-free and with the scent of wood smoke pervading the house. In breaks in the weather, I stepped out onto the tower roof, and, walking in the town, we looked back and saw the sun setting over the harbour.

This afternoon, Catriona Blacker came with the benefit of her extensive Pugin expertise. There remains the puzzle of which Old Testament scene is portrayed in this Flemish roundel in the Library window: Jacob’s flight from Laban in Genesis 31?

Landmark

For each of the past few years, we have had a short stay in a Landmark Trust property. This year, it's The Grange, on the West Cliff at Ramsgate. Augustus Pugin designed the house and all its fittings for the use of himself and his large family.

What would he have thought about Old Chelsea china, ubiquitous in 200+ Landmarks to date (but now, we read, out of production)? I photographed the above in one of The Grange's tower rooms. Currently a bathroom, I guess it would have been part of the servants' quarters: a great view out to sea, but extremely cold in Winter.

Astley revisited

February seems a while ago now, but our four days at Astley Castle have recently been brought back to mind by the news that it is one of the half dozen buildings shortlisted for this year's Stirling Prize. Though it won't affect the result, there's a poll on the BBC website, which shows Astley with strong popular support - not quite the front runner, but almost: the judges' announcement will be made on Thursday.

You don't often see the Castle photographed from this angle. It makes three aspects clear. First, the building is beautifully set, with mature trees in its extensive surrounding parkland, a moat, and a large garden within that. Secondly, the heat exchangers (you can see them to the right centre of my photograph) are just one of the measures introduced to make the building very energy-efficient. And thirdly, there is something of the stage set about Astley, which, coupled with its history, much enhances the romance of your stay.

POSTSCRIPT: It won!

A reading party

The best bit about staying in a Landmark is the opportunity it gives to sit and read, without distraction from telephone (mostly), computers and television. Long may the Trust's "No wifi" policy continue, though I fear it's under threat.

As may be gleaned from my photograph, the living area at Astley is upstairs, with floor length windows giving a view across to the parish church. Its origins are as old as the Castle's, but only part of the 14th Century Collegiate remains: it must have been huge! In the now vanished spire, a light was shown after dark, giving Astley - then surrounded by forest - the name of "the Lantern of Arden". We heard all this from one of the churchwardens, who met us inside the - extremely low - West door of St Mary's this morning and gave us the benefit of the knowledge gleaned during his sixty plus years as a parishioner. It transpires that visitors to the Castle included not only Lady Jane Grey, but (more significant, possibly, in the mind of our new friend) Sir Elton John.

An old friend came to lunch with us here: he serves as a priest in a parish within the Coventry conurbation, where he is busy organising a food bank. Walking up towards the transformed Castle, he exclaimed: "This must have cost a lot! What a waste of money!" It's a point of view: after all £2.7m was spent on the restoration. And didn't Rose Macaulay speak of this "perhaps overcastled earth"?

Astley

We have travelled to North-East Warwickshire today, to stay in one of the latest Landmark Trust properties to become available. Astley Castle was really more designed - in the 13th Century - as a fortified manor house: this part of the world is pretty flat, so the site has few natural advantages. The Trust provides parking behind the 18th Century Coach House, seen to the left of my photograph, and wheelbarrows for luggage to be pushed up the path - hardly an arduous task as it's certainly not an ear-popping ascent. The gates would hardly stop many armies in their tracks, though the moat is impressively deep.

What is so attractive about Astley? Its history - three English Queens are associated with it; and the fact that there's now a totally modern dwelling with plenty of room for eight people, built within the old walls. Brilliant in fact for a four-day stay!

"Cotmore"

Some friends were gathered at the Landmark Trust's Shelwick Court, just outside Hereford, this week, and I was kindly invited to join them there yesterday. My route was roundabout, to put it mildly: up on the train to Worcester (across the very swollen Avon); SW to Hereford (across an equally swollen Severn, and arriving near to a no less swollen Wye); SW again to Newport; E to Bristol Parkway and then home. There had been a landslide near Gloucester, it seems. Anyway, I had good value, I suppose, for my £12.05 fare.

After lunch, we walked from the fine old house down towards the River Lugg, but got nowhere near: more flooding there of course. In the morning, we were in the Cathedral. Its loos have a separate entrance, across a garden: emerging from them, the wind blew my cap off. Up it sailed, onto the loo block's high flat roof. Ah well, I thought, it's not irreplaceable. But I left my address with one of the stewards in case it ever came down.

We went on with our visit, which was timed to coincide with a lunchtime Service. We were out of luck, as there was a funeral taking place in the Lady Chapel. Disappointed, we approached the elderly retired priest from Much Wenlock who had welcomed us when we first came in. "Could you," I asked, "kindly lead us in a short prayer? Our group consists of Pax Christi workers and supporters..." He took us to the tiny Stanbury's Chantry, where we sat for a few minutes. But prayer for peace was there none. It seemed he had never heard of Pax Christi, which gave me rather a jolt.

Just as we'd left the Cathedral, the same steward I'd seen earlier came running after me - cap in hand. My request, "St Thomas of Hereford, pray for us" had borne fruit.

Just as we reached the car park, I noticed The Hereford Cattle Society office, with a statue of a bull over the door. I was about to photograph it when one of the staff emerged. Do you by any chance have "Cotmore" inside? I asked. Yes, come and see him, was the kind response. And so I was able to photograph the painting I'd long heard about, featuring my great-great-great-grandfather Thomas Jeffries' prize-winning bull in all its glory. Cotmore was where he had lived, near Lyonshall, and there bred this beast, weighing in - aged 9 - at 35 cwt (over one and a half tonnes).

Monkton

For the third year, we are on half a week's holiday with friends in a Landmark, this time Monkton Old Hall. 14th Century, and with a penitential spiral staircase (for those of average height or more), it has the most spectacular views over Pembroke Castle.

I've brought my bike, and went exploring early this morning. Monkton village, quite distinct from its larger neighbour, was gutted in the 'Sixties, and a horrid Council estate superseded what would now be seen as Pembrokeshire quaint. In the main street, one shop alone survives, BJ's Stores, and this oxymoronic fish and chippery.

Goodbyeleigh

Yesterday, on our last night at Goodleigh, the Russells took us out to eat at the village pub. The New Inn is just a short stroll down the hill, though a bit of a puff up again in the dark. Julia, mine hostess, handed us the menu: “It’s all made by my own fair hands. I’ll leave it with you so you can have a little thinkette.” An actress manqué.

I was sad to leave Anderton House, our bedroom with its Sheppey chair, Heals “Cogwheels” curtains and large bronze abstract relief that glows in the early morning sunlight. We could easily have stayed a full week – two even. There’s much to see and do in the surroundings, so many books worth reading in the Landmark library: I didn’t even finish the one I had brought with me, “Wolf Hall”. (Unlike for others we know and love, the Kindle hasn't yet fired our hearts.)

And the stars shine brightly at night.

Anderton House

Last September, with our friends, the Russells we spent a happy weekend at one of the Landmark Trust’s more ancient properties, Stogursey Castle. Yesterday afternoon our destination was Goodleigh near Barnstaple, to join the Russells at another Landmark: the Trust’s most recently-built property.

Anderton House was the result of a commission by the eponymous Anderton family from an architect friend, Peter Aldington, some forty years ago. The house is one of few of that period to be given a 2* Listing, and you can see why as soon as you enter the front door. A simple barn-like structure has been finished in such a way as to creature a magical blend of inside and out, floor-length plate glass windows giving out to a terrace and lawn overlooking the most peaceful of valleys. Altogether, it’s a very superior bungalow, as I hope my night-time photograph shows.

The split-level living area has – at its centre – a six foot square office with built-in desk where I am typing this: it’s known as the doghouse. A brilliant solution to complaints by the wife that she never sees her husband!

Dr. Philip Kingston RIP

I first met Philip in London, some 40 years ago, shortly after his marriage to my ebullient friend Rosalind Sutton. It was a shock at first that she had chosen as her husband one who rather obviously enjoyed a low profile; but getting to know Philip after the Kingstons had made their move to Gloucestershire, I found there was more and more about him to appreciate.

First and foremost, he was a family man, with plenty to be proud about in the way his two daughters have contributed. Professionally, he was held in high regard at Gloucester Hospital, where he was consultant haematologist, expert in treating Acute Myeloid Leukaemia. In the wider Gloucestershire community, he was valued for his work as an Advisor to the Summerfield Trust. On visits to The Croft, I was always amazed by his skill in the garden and DIY, and he was invariably good company around the dinner table - most recently in our house on 6th March, by when he knew he was living on borrowed time. And do Rosalind and Philip hold something of a record for visiting Landmark Trust properties? I wouldn't be surprised.