An hour's stroll around Chichester Marina

Back in time on the Weald and Downland

A crisp and sunny November day saw Lizzie and I venture into West Sussex, and the Weald and Downland Open Air Museum.  The museum opened in 1970 and since that time has been collecting dilapidated historic buildings of southeast England, bringing them to the site, and restoring them to their former glory.  By doing this, the site preserves these important historic structures, opening them up for people like us to go and have a nose around.

The open air museum is spread around a 50-acre site nestled snuggly in the heart of the Sussex countryside.  The reconstructed village has over 50 structures, ranging from the rather modest peasant’s cottage, to the grand medieval houses, an old market hall from Titchfield in Hampshire, workshops, a school house from West Wittering, and a church to name but a few.  Many of these buildings have a certain atmosphere to them, and their largely bare, often dark interiors hint at the hard, difficult life endured by our forefathers.  This is particularly poignant in the peasant's cottage from Hangleton in Sussex, a single-roomed house with a wattle-and-daub partition, a little wooden bench and a pile of straw on the cold, hard floor, something of a primitive bed.  The experience here is strangely humbling, and makes me pose a series of questions; did the people who lived here think they had a hard life?  What would they think of my life?  And what will people think if they looked back on my life, 500 years from now?

Back in the centre of the village, the shire horse was hard at work, whilst the museum's cows and chickens rested lazily in the shade.  At the centre of the site lays the museum’s commercial structures, amongst them a plumber’s shed, a carpenter’s workshop, and a wonderful old blacksmith’s, iron tools hung up on all four walls.  The blacksmith was hard at work creating a tool for fruit picking, and his shack is probably my favourite building – it is reminiscent of a very bygone age, where people had a lifelong trade, and the community worked together, like a well-oiled machine.

Talking of well-oiled machines, the last building we visited was the Lurgashall Mill, an old working mill that is still producing flour by way of an enormous water wheel.  Upstairs, the mechanisms can be seen up close, the clattering of ingenious cogs going around and around, powered solely by the overflow from the museum’s lake, whilst at the door of the mill, waiting for titbits, is the biggest crowd of well-fed ducks I have ever seen.

What a great throw-back to the days of our forefathers, and both an enjoyable visit, and a real eye-opener into just how our ancestors were surviving in the world prior to our more technological times.

Jubilation!

What a wonderful weekend!  A weekend full of joy and celebration, patriotism, national unity and togetherness.  A brilliant weekend for Britain, a great advert for the nation, a massive lift for a country badly in need of a cheer-up.

Our weekend started in the pretty cathedral city of Chichester, an hour's drive from Lizzie's Surrey home.  Our arrival coincided with a Jubilee parade, and the crowds were out in force to add their voice to the cheers and whistles resounding across the country.  It was brilliant - Saint George and the dragon were there, along with bagpipers, Royal look-alikes and classic vehicles.

On Sunday we wandered down to the common in Shalford, to take a look at their summer fete.  Despite it being an unfortunately cloudy day, the spirits were high as the loudspeaker played a host of period tunes, and we tucked into hog roast rolls and cake.  Lizzie didn't win any prizes in the raffles, and I didn't win anything on the coconut shy, but our hopes were high as Lizzie entered her dog, Poppy, into the dog show.  There were many categories, and Poppy was going for the crown of golden oldie, for dogs over nine years old.

Well, she may not have won the competition, but we all thought she was the best dog, and at least it meant we could enjoy a commiserative ice cream!  There was no time to hang around for the awards anyway, as the fascinating Jubilee pageant was about to begin on the television.  The coverage of one thousand boats making their way down the Thames in honour of the Queen was enthralling, inspirational stuff!

(Photo courtesy of www.telegraph.co.uk)

Day three of the celebrations, and to the little town of Godalming, which was hosting one of the 2,012 beacons due to be lit as part of the celebrations.  The townfolk gathered outside Borough Hall, where councillors were attempting to recreate a group photograph taken on the day of the Coronation, 60 years ago.  Army cadets then led a procession of torch-bearers through the town and into the park, where the festivities had clearly been well underway for hours.  A fabulous brass band kept the crowd amused as night fell, and after the saying of the Jubilee prayer, we all joined in the national anthem.  The beacon was lit to a rousing cheer, and then a seriously impressive burst of fireworks filled the sky, as the band struck up Land of Hope and Glory.  This, for me, was the best part of the whole weekend, so atmospheric and so very memorable.

Our final day of celebration, Tuesday, saw us up uncomfortably early for the train to London.  The capital was certainly busy as we navigated our way around closed-off roads and barriers, eventually ending up on The Strand, just in time to see the Royal car itself, Her Majesty on her way to Saint Paul's Cathedral.  Further down The Strand, a giant screen had been erected at Trafalgar Square, with the square itself shoehorned full of spectators.  From here we made for Whitehall, choosing a spot just beyond the Cenotaph to watch the pageantry unfold.  Considering the millions of people who turned up to watch the event, we didn't get too bad a view, as the bearskins marched through, followed by the cavalry with their perfectly trained horses.  After what must have been two hours, cheering could be heard from Westminster, the household cavalry galloped past, and the royal carriages came into view, Queen Elizabeth with Prince Charles and Camilla in the first, followed by William, Kate and Harry in the second.  We were taken aback by the speed of the procession, but we did the best we could to snap some photos, camera in one hand, union jack waving in the other.  The crowning moment of our Jubilee weekend, the Royal Family themselves, was an absolutely unforgettable moment for Lizzie and I, and every other spectator in the crowd.

Finally, a word about an 86-year-old woman who embodies the spirit of a nation.  In her 60 years on the throne, she has remained the one constant of the country, ever faithful to her sense of duty, unwavering in her national obligation.  Queen Elizabeth never asked or chose to be our Queen, but she has fulfilled her role unflinchingly since the moment she learned of her father's death in 1952.  Inspirational, brave and passionate, she is a national asset, the very best of British.  

This blog would like to thank Queen Elizabeth II for 60 glorious years of service to the nation.  God Save the Queen!