Luke and Viv having invited me to join them in the Cotswolds over the weekend, I said goodbye to Rachel and Cameron, and set off early to Twickenham station. I'd intended dragging my cases there, but Rachel was more than willing to drive me there, and I said a sad farewell at the station. Rachel was very supportive when my father died nearly 11 years ago, and we have also often found things to talk about -- similar social and political concerns, issues regarding people, and so on. So I look forward to seeing her and am conversely sad when that ends.
The journey back to Sidcup was uneventful, and I was soon loaded into the back of the Green's Toyota. We picked up T & I from school around 11 and headed north-west (I suppose). If ever I come to this side of the world again, I will bring a compass. It is bad enough that the sun seems to hang around on the wrong side of directly overhead. Sometimes I got so confused that I thought the sun must have been rising in the west.
Anyway, eventually, after passing through many pretty places, we reached Salisbury Plain, where, I believe, my grandfather did some training in World War I before heading for the trenches -- Messines, Ypres and so on.
The story is told that the British Army was also engaged in training there, and the Australians were so outraged by how poorly the British officers treated their men that some of the Australians ambushed the worst bullies among the British and beat them up with a warning that there would be more if they didn't treat their men better. Apparently the culprits were never discovered.
Being of the "ear worm afflicted" group of the population, of course I got The Nightmare Song from Iolanthe firmly stuck in my head for the rest of the weekend. (Ear worm is a term for one of those songs which takes over your head and won't leave.)
"Well, this you can't stand,
So you throw up your hand
And you find you're as cold as an icicle
In your shirt and your socks
(the black silk with gold clocks)
Crossing Salisbury Plain on a bicycle..."
Anyway, we eventually reached Stonehenge. These days the car park and visitor's centre is some distance from the monument itself, and a shuttle service takes visitors out to the stones.
I was pleased that I managed to make my way back to Sidcup without incident.
Here is another view of the vastness of Waterloo Station.
As we drove, we could see the henge from a distance well before
we reached the visitor centre.
Plans for a picnic lunch outside the centre before going to the stones were subverted
by the wild and cold wind and splatters of rain:
we escaped indoors and sought comfort in hot coffee.
A new project at the centre is to build a replica neolithic village
A replica of one of the stones is strapped to a frame on rollers,
as was probably done to move the stones into place.
Miss 9 stands decoratively, though it is more likely that
100 straining men would have been on the stone moving job.
Mr 5 between two typical standing stones
Thatching and wattle walls as used in neolithic constructions.
Closer view of Stonehenge
Closer view still.
My grandfather said he was fascinated to see it, but surprised that it was relatively small,
as he had imagined something on the scale of the far later Pyramids, which he had already seen.
Son and father with henge in background.
Family group, one face covered
Family group, face covering swapped.
"Heel Stone" -- a key object in the astronomical features of the henge.
When viewed through a gap in the stones, it aligns with the sunrise at the solstice.
Family approaching the henge -- as, no doubt, families have done at different times
for the past 4,000 odd years
Notice the lump on the top of the standing stone in this picture.
The stones were purposely shaped like this to create a mortice (in the horizontal stone)
and tenon (the lump here) joint to keep the top stone in place
It is a popular place...
A memorial to two airmen killed near here in a flying accident in 1912.
Salisbury Plain was a popular location for flying in the early days.
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