Yes, the view of the Giant at Cerne Abbas. We escaped to this little dog-friendly pub a few weeks ago called the Piddle Inn. On the banks of the river Piddle (Trout season just finished, sadly)in such an idyllic spot surrounded by unspoilt hills and rivers and woodlands. When I say 'unspoilt' that is with the exception of the Giant of course. He's supposedly an imposter - not at all as old as the stone circles and other chalk things on hilsides up and down the country, but perhaps as new as 400 years old (!!!) Recently re-chalked and looking in his prime now, apart from National Trust won't actually let you get too near him for fear of the land slipping away.

Glorious landscape around - this was just before the weather closed in and we had to seek refuge in a nearby pub.



Cerne Abbas is a lovely little village with surprisingly quite alot of very nice pubs. Not at all the touristy place I half expected to see. proper pubs serving proper beer and pub grub at reasonable prices. It was lovely and quiet too. I love to escape to where there's not too many people. we had planned to eat at the nearby Michelin pub The Brace at Plush, but ran out of time. Fortunately, our own pub menu was full of lovely fish dishes and organic and/or local meat and veg. I met the chef, Simon. Very talented guy. We'll keep this pub a secret otherwise if they get in the Guide their prices will inevitably go up. As it was, we had a fantastic meal and a bottle of wine for about £50.

Dizzy thought the pub facilities particularly comfortable after a day-long walk on the hills... Must come back for the fly-fishing in the Spring....

If my group of Beteckers are reading this again - a big THANK YOU for your lovely card and comments. I miss you too!!! Hope all the interviews and stuff are going well. Sorry I accidentally deleted your comments - so you'll have to send me some new ones to add to this post:)

Here are some pictures from last weekend and our visit to my home county - yes - I'm an ESSEX GIRL at heart;)

We were there to see 'ol' blue eyes' on tour
(and please don't go telling me he's dead - coz I've seen him - full size, in colour and walking on the stage):)

The Cliffs Pavillion - at Westcliff-on-Sea, Essex - a brilliant venue - especially on a wonderful sunny day like we had on Saturday.



Looking out onto the big, blue Thames estuary with a cold glass of white wine? Yep - very 'us' ;)



Unfortunately, the first performance was cancelled due to a technical hitch - but I managed to run to the box office (when all the oldies were reaching for their walking sticks) and got the last few tickets for the evening performance. Luckily we were there early as the stupid man had written 8.15pm on the tickets when actually it was an 8pm start. It was an excellent show - and I'm not even a particular lover of Sinatra-stuff (J is of course - born in the wrong decade)- but his story was really well told and the technology they use was amazing - he really came alive - so much so, that the dancers on stage we actually a bit of a distraction to watching him sing! fantastic choreograpy....



So, anyway, we had an unexpected afternoon walk along the seafront - along the pier (the longest in the world you know - 1.33 miles) - we took the train back as the wind was blowing a hoooley!
After a wonderful lunch (plus two bottles of wine) at the
Fisherman's Wharf restaurant we ended up at Leigh-on-Sea (which is slightly more upmarket that the amusement-park, candyflossy "saaffend"...



We found a good and friendly fishmonger cooperative (Mmmmm.. wild sea bass: mental note to stop there before we headed home) and stopped for a drink at the seafront bars. Shame that we would have to miss the reservation at the Boatyard restaurant (voted the best fish restaurant in the area) - but actually it didn't look that brilliant a place after all. And the reviews aren't very good. The woman at the reception was not at all friendly:( somaybe it was just aswell we weren't eating there. Its a bit of a Michelin food desert round here:(



Little did we know (and much to J's excitement) the international annual airshow was on and during Saturday there was lots of rehearsing in the skies above the cliffs and the seafront was beginning to fill up with all kinds of RAF and Army lads on roadshow-type lorries with banners. Shame the weather closed in on Sunday - but that's England for you (it was a bank holiday after all):)








Does he think he's in Crete or something? This is the Thames - not the Med' you know!!







Nice hat Dad;)

>

Last week my friend K and I treated ourselves to a mid-week day out in scenic Rutland. As it was a special occasion we decided we deserved a Michelin-starred venue for lunch and Hambleton Hall’s ‘Lunch 4 Less’ deal was irresistible!
It's grand Victorian architecture looks over the huge reservoir and even though it was midweek they were fully booked and the dining room had (as always) an excellent atmosphere. The hotel is more like a rustic home than a posh hotel. Hidden away down a wooded gravelled driveway. Apparently the Latin above the front door says ‘ do as you want’ and they certainly are keen on their guests taking part in fishing, cycling or walking around the Water’s paths.




But we were here for Aaron’s famous food. In a recent review "Hambleton Hall stands at the forefront of that dying breed of quintessential, personally run, unmucked-about luxury country-house hotels". And has been known for some time as 'best restaurant outside London'..
So after the obligatory glass of champers;) K had the Beetroot assiete to start (Mmmmm interesting – not as good as a rhubarb favourite of mine from a certain other Michelin place) and I had the ravioli mushroom thingy (very mushroomy) and for our mains we had veal bolognaise (not too rich and served in a separate little pot to go over the pasta – very stylish) and the organic wild salmon (lovely and the mushed peas it was served on even better). We especially enjoyed earwigging others conversations “would you believe – the new vicar is a woman!” And laughing at the walking party who left all their muddy boots and Barbours in the porch, as the head of the group discreetly handed the sommelier two (duck or pheasant)? eggs saying (in his middle class accent): “would you ask the chef to poach one and fry the other – we’ll have them before the starters”.


Eccentric bunch these middle-of-week- Michelin-star-lunchers. The rain outside was pouring down. We enjoyed the relaxed, comfortable lounge, warm from the open log fire, full of plump feather cushions and the scent of its enormous vase of lilies.

Fortunately the rain held off when we left, and the spring-time sun appeared. Hambleton Hall is just down the road from the late BBC gardener Geoff Hamilton’s ‘Barnsdale’ – which is a maze of little gardens all with an individual theme. It held a special significance for K, so I was glad to walk around and enjoy learning a few new names for all the plants. Each garden has a seat to sit and enjoy the plants and we had the place virtually to ourselves apart from the few staff busy weeding away. The peace was only shattered occassionally by the aircraft from the local MOD site. After a cream tea in the café, we walked around the shop and each bought a new colourful addition (or two) for our gardens. Ladies who do lunch? We must do this more often!

Another trip to one of my favourite cities....
The contro versial Birmingham architecture...with rain fast approaching...


before lunch we visited the famous fish markets and were amazed at the different strange things on offer...not only the fish...


and the fresh crabs (my favourite). We had some little tubs of crayfish and welks to "keep us going til lunch" whilst we ambled round...



but what about this.............



at the back of this cabinet is....yes that's right...anyone for goats head stew????!!!.....(yuk)!!!!



and then there's the nasty stuff...(Not that High F-W would agree of course)


Some of the quality of the fish was a bit disappointing,
but there was a massive choice - meat and fish and frozen stuff...


But this was why we were here....there was even grouper!!


Anyway, when we'd had enough of walking around this smelly place, we headed outside to the open air market to buy (the biggest) stuffed olives you'd ever seen. And the woman selling them was so obsessive about them (understandably) she wouldn't allow them to be mixed together when they were sold - so we ended up £16 worth of half a dozen bags of various varieties (which inevitably ended up all in the same bowl in the fridge when we got home (well, all the ones that were left, that is;) there was a long train journey remember)!

On the basis that the wonderful, marvellous Teppanyaki is closed for lunch (why oh why?) and that shockingly, Le Blancs place has now closed (why oh why? - one of my favourites!), we headed to the next best... The Bank. Inevitably, it was very busy, but at least the menu is good. There wasn't too many screaming kids (thank God).



Unfortunately, despite it's friendly but corporate atmosphere, the food was a bit disappointing. We've been there a few times and this was by far the worst. L is allergic to coriander (poor love) so I made a point of telling the waiter. But... you guessed it, the chef just couldn't help himself, could he? There on top of the starter was a giant sprig of (to L was..) "the evil-looking green stuff". Did he not understand? The other starters were fine. Mains weren't...J had steak (of course) which was fine, L&C had the veal (too much sauce I think - not particularly appetizing-looking). I had the roasted halibut - which had been so over cooked it had gone completely dry and lost all taste. It was sitting on some asparagus which (a bit too early in the season for UK stuff) when questioned had apparently come from the same place my (lovely) new bear originates from...



We decided to share the "puddings for 2" (x2 of course) and they went down very well.
Later, I had a chat with the manager, Brett - lovely guy from South Africa. I think they just had a bad day. And the menu is desperate for a change - he agreed.

Next weekend we're off to the wonderful city of .....Bradford (!!) Oh, I can't wait!!

Copster Green is a quiet, rural Lancashire village. Not the place I’d expect to find a collection of Ferraris and Porsches parked up outside an unlikely roadside Chinese restaurant.

Yu and You’s is a funky modern restaurant with highly rated freshly prepared food and excellent staff. We stopped off late at night after a dinner at the Michelin-starred Eastcote Manor (conveniently, just up the road) so couldn’t sample the food (maybe next time). By then, the evening and the restaurant had evolved (or deteriorated, depending on your perspective) into a cocktail bar with a loud and busy dance floor. The DJ was very good – if not a little out of his depth here (e.g. the only Phil Collins he could find was 'you can't hurry love' (!!!) Drinking and driving seems to be an accepted and necessary method of socialising ‘round these parts – and I was glad we had a taxi booked - one of the younger celebs we saw departing in his sports car with three young ladies on his arms(s) definitely was over the limit. Other famous people at the bar included some motorcyclist (never heard of him)…

Dinner earlier at Nortcote Manor, by the way, had been very very good. Not as good as some other Michelin-starred places I’ve been (listen to me) but still very good. It's proud of the chef, Nigel's history of retaining his star for about 10 years. Michelin aren’t usually so generous. What makes the place special is the small, homely atmosphere. It’s a gothic Victorian buiding, so lends itself well to the oak panelling and red carpets, but it isn't dark.

It was almost like sitting in someone’s front room for pre-dinner drinks, a bit like Rutland Water’s Hambleton Hall. Poor Craig had quite a challenge to explain the (in my view a bit too complex) menus to everyone and take all the orders. He made an excellent choice of wine for us (it's always an interesting test to ask the sommelier to choose something appropriate for the dishes we've ordered). There were a lot of staff, but unfortunately no-one (apart from Craig) seemed to really know what they were doing. They spilled the wine, delivered too much bread and didn’t refill the wine as often as I would have liked. Why didn’t they just leave the cutlery where it was rather than faffing around with it after every course? I made the mistake of ordering the goat (yes, I know, maybe the champagne had gone to my head). Not sure what I expected – but it didn’t deliver. The better choices around the table were the venison - no lets get this right "Loin of Roebuck" (excellent - no 'seminal' says J) and the beef. Interestingly there were no “inbetweeners” (sorbets etc) that you quite often get offered at a Michelin-starred place like this, but the time delay between courses was about right (if only they’d got round to the wine). The truly worthwhile ‘inbetweener’ was (of course) the word from the kitchen letting us know the rugby score (at which a cheer from our fellow diners was heard)! This was even more worthwhile as the kitchen-staff were French (he he=). The dining room was far too hot; it was warm outside so the log fire and radiators were overkill tonight. So we quickly escaped back to the lounge where the doors to the fanous gardens were opened and the whiskys and ports were waiting. Overall, very good, not as slick or stylish as I expected, but a really informal, enjoyable evening with great company - thanks to M & C:)

Next morning, we got up quite early to visit the nearby designer outlet place and with proper Lancashire bacon butties inside us ( - after all, it was at least 12 hours since we had eaten!) take up the opportunity of some excellent retail therapy (essential on a Sunday with a hangover). On the way home we inevitably we had to stop at the best local Farm shop in the area http://www.huntleys.co.uk/ (currently undergoing a refurb/expansion). We bought some excellent wild boar and other bits and bobs and treated ourselves to some award-winning and famous local ice-cream (cointreau and orange was the winning flavour) before hitting the motorways again.... picture to follow....

We discovered another fantastic 'foodie' supplies place yesterday - the very stylish Daylesford Organics near Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire. (NB To my Southern friends - they also have outlets in London). Apart from a marvellous collection of fresh produce (including local mushrooms and hand-made (award winning) cheeses) (no, we couldn't resist spending alot of money in this bit) - there is also a cafe, 'garden' shop (no bags of compost to be found here I'm afraid - only top of the range linen and suede aprons (£95 each) and beautiful, designer garden 'accessories'), and also a clothes shop selling very nice quality cashmere jumpers and of course (no self-respecting social gardener should be without them) that essential pair of fashionable Hunter Wellies.




Turns out the whole place is slightly surreal - from the artificial outside bar area surrounded by topiary to the Polish staff serving wine tastings. The whole 1500 acre site is owned by the Bamford family (JCB) and this is the 'little hobby' which 'keeps the wife happy' (!) No expense has been spared and no wonder the locals have heavily criticised this 'footballer's wives' type of development. Flying celebrities in and out via helicopter and various Ferraris racing up and down the country lanes doesn't really fit well with the organic and slow food philospohy. But then I suppose we're all hypocrites to a certain extent...


It's a lovely location though, set in converted stone farm-buildings next to a completely unspoilt pretty Cotswold village, which is surrounded by good pubs including the one we went to for lunch - The oldy-worldy Michelin recommended Fox Inn at Lower Oddington (another one crossed off the list)They were very busy - so it was lucky we booked. J & C both had (predictably) the home-made steak and ale pie (which disappointingly to the CRAP (Campaign for Real Ale Pies) member who we know, was served with the unforgivable PUFF pastry rather than the traditional shortcrust version - pedantic I know - but these things are important to some people !!!) C went for the unusual rabbit casserole (very good) and I had the scallops (risky, I know, in view of our location and season -but also very good). The atmosphere was very relaxed and the service OK. My only criticism of the place would be they seem to need more staff, and I wished the chef had warmed the plates before he served the main courses - it really does make a difference - especially for my poor poached pear (which was barely poached) but the excellent chocolate sauce made up for these minor errors. Overall, it was a lovely long lunch and the staff really did try their best to keep up appearances, despite the challenge of keeping everyone in the 3 dining rooms happy.

Afterwards, we had a nice walk in the Autumnal sunshine around Bledington church and I spied a nearby opportunity (lottery win dependant) in the shape of an abandoned old Victorian, double-fronted cottage (with a bit of land attached). We had a peep through the dusty old (rotten) sash windows at the large brown printed wallpaper, falling off the walls in the corners where the damp had come through and the white hand rails where the elderly resident had (once) clung on to life. In the kitchen was the original old cooking range, with the red quarry-stone floor tiles surrounded by a hideous 70's kitchen unit. Ghostly. It is due to go to auction soon. Oooooh if only!

Next time we're down that way, we're going to try the other highly recommended pub nearby - the Kings Head Inn at Bledington. Which apparently is famously associated with the annual village Morris Dancing outside the pub on the village green (how quaint)...!

'It's all about making do' says DH - That's camping! the difficulty is in the packing (something He, of course, doesn't get involved with..) i.e. how do you pack the minimum amount of stuff for the maximum amount of comfort (or rather perhaps the minimum amount of inconvenience)??!! ? The trick is to think in sections of the day/night: e.g. the air-bed is a must for getting a decent night's sleep (as are my ear plugs - I'm a very light sleeper)! Tea bags and a kettle (that means (at the very minimum) a small gas canister, a lighter and a pint of milk for breakfast (!). The list goes on... and your car boot very soon fills up; with stuff that you never imagined you would need - but find yourself thinking 'but I can't possibly do without THAT' (e.g. iPod and speakers, (and maybe a bear ...))!!!
We stayed for the first time at the excellent South Penquite camp site which is probably the most unusual of all the campsites we've stayed at all over the world. Briefly - they are a working Organic (officially registered) livestock farm, near to the site of Brown Willy - no really that really is the name of the highest hill in Cornwall, and home to a number of ancient sites of standing stones and stone circles nearby to the legendary Athurian Tintagel. The farmer, Dominic Fairman (very dashing) and his large family are obviously not in it for the money -the camp site is not even half used and then declared 'fully booked' on the sign outside (!) Situated on a glorious southwest facing hill overlooking the unspoilt scenery of Bodmin Moor - you couldn't hope for a better location. No caravans or campers allowed - which also adds to the sense of 'making do': no serious campers here - only proper tents and hikers allowed. On the lower field is the 'Yurts' - the ready-made teepees with integral stoves and camp-beds (the added luxury comes at a price!) The facillities here were OK - nothing special. The showers are solar-powered (so best to get there at the end of the day rather than in the (luke warm, very busy) mornings). No tiles, only (apparently) recycled yoghurt pots as an interior plastic covering to the wooden buldings - maybe more of a gimmick than a worthwhile investment (?). Funnily enough, the new shower block doesn't include a loo block and the although it's lovely to have a large shower cubicle all to yourself (even if it is a coldish dribble of water on offer), it's rather frustrating to have to walk more than 50 feet away to the loo block to find the 3 (cold only) sinks to brush your teeth at (!). The only warm water available is at the washing-up sinks outside the shower-block (strange). Overall - rather an ill-thought-out arrangement - but hey, maybe stage 2 of their investment will include fitting sinks and loos in each cubicle too (!??)
What made up for this (let's be honest, nothing more than...) inconvenience was the excellent location, and general ambience of the place, which was summed-up by the drifting smell of evening smoke from everyone's old-fashioned camp fires (£4 for logs from the farmhouse): something you are rarely allowed on regular camp sites in the UK. Also the daily visits from the groups of ducks and geese and turkeys which went on 'hoovering-up' sessions round the whole campsite, in search of remnants from each group's BBQ. Not sure whether J would have been happy with this lot on top of MY car....
But the quiet sunsets were something very special....

Importantly, there are two pubs nearby (i.e. within biking distance) (nothing fancy you understand, this is a bit of a food-desert as far as restaurant guides are concerned, unless you're self-sufficient): The Blisland Inn and the Old Inn at St Breward - both good in their own way: the Blisland better for friendly service and proper beer - it's not often you see a bar like this any more - low old beams full of old beer mats and glasses, where the locals still have their own designated pewter beer jugs (and the sign behind the bar advertises snuff available at £2) - whereas the Old Inn is a bit more commercialised and situated very high above sea level with marvellous views of the surrounding area and specialises in proper pub grub with a good value carvery on offer on Sundays. Maybe we were slightly biased towards the Old Inn, as we reached it after a long, hot and sun-burnt 25 mile bike-ride (via Bodmin) along the last bit of the Camel Trial that we needed to cover from a previous trip. It was a real effort to climb - in 'top-top' gear (I admit to having to get off and walk a few yards) up the final big hill to the top of St Breward - but well-worth it. The views were amazing! And everyone we met said hello on the way - it was a bit strange at first - but that's the way of these Cornish people. We were glad that the local shop was open too.
Maybe we shouldn't have stopped at Bodmin for quite so long - but J had to see the Lewis sadly lose the F1 at the Weavers Inn . (We were glad to see it's now got new mangement since our last visit and has had a re-furb). Bored, I escaped for a while to have a walk around and visited the Thomas a Becket chapel at nearby St Petroc's church where the gargoyles mark the ancient water spring that once serviced the whole of Bodmin until quite recently. I had a chance there to say a prayer for my poor guilt-ridden Catholic soul and also to have a nice conversation with a local old lady who was busy collecting blackberries from the graveyard hedgerows. She was very enthusiastic in telling me how she had felt so guilty about taking the blackberries to make into useful and delicious jams and pies, so much so, that last week she had taken two made-up jam-jars round to the Old Rectory nextdoor to give to the vicar. Predictably, he had thanked her for her trouble and assured her that she should help herself to as many berries as necessary (and apparently hastily took the jams, mumbling something about the forthcoming Harvest Festival). By the time I had returned to the Weavers the skies had turned cloudy, Lewis had finished 5th, and it was time to set off on the long journey home to South Penquite via Tressaret and the old quarry.

We found some lovely places to buy good quality local food along the way. The best was St Kew Farm shop at St Maybyn, which stocks the famous Blue Mango bakery products - the best organic bread in the UK (OK, maybe I've said that before, but the hot food here is fantastic). The fresh veg selection is also amazing and I didn't find it difficult to quickly spend £30 before our return home on everything from runner beans to fresh coffee (and the chilli chocolate was very tempting too).
The only disappointing aspect of the trip was the fishing. Coarse fisherman probably would be quite happy here, but J's fly fishing was spoilt by the lack of maintenance of the beats and the hot weather. Fish were few and far between and even the ones we saw were tiddlers. I've emailed Angling 2000 with some feeback as we had to pay them to fish these beats in advance. Luckily, I'd brought my sketch-pad and pencils to while-away the many hours in the sunshine while J struggled with trying (unsuccessful) different flies...but later he did manage some success when his kite got into the air a few times over the campsite (much to wonderment of the other campers)...
What I like about this place is everything is very understated...the footpaths and villages are barely signposted and even the excellent nearby East Rose cottage (fishing lakes) have no real clue as their true purpose. The moor ponies at the side of the road (and even the occasional cow) add to the atmosphere to make this place a really desolate but mysterious place. Very peaceful and relaxing. Next time we will try the nearby Temple Fishery which apparently (we found out too late) is the best place to catch yourself a decent brown trout...Although 'next time' now will probably be in the Springtime I guess.......