A year ago we were in Paris, on our first trip abroad since the pandemic had started. It felt strange, but good, to be travelling again after almost two years.
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In 1132 a small group of monks left their Benedictine Monastery in York, fed up with the extravagant and rowdy lifestyle of the monks there. Seeking a more devout and simple way of life, they were granted a parcel of land by the River Skell where they built a small wooden church and applied, successfully, to join the Cistercian order.
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Burning Man is a unique event that takes place every year in the Black Rock Desert in Nevada, USA. But we are not in the deserts of Nevada; we are among the green hills of England’s Peak District.
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When Alexander Hadfield, a tailor, ordered a bale of cloth to be sent from London to his home in the small Derbyshire village of Eyam, he cannot have dreamed of the dreadful consequences. Nor could he have dreamed that this simple action would be remembered centuries later.
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How many windows is too many? That was the question facing many seventeenth century property owners. In 1696 a window tax was introduced in England and Wales. The more windows a building had, the more its owner had to pay.
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If you like a palace to be somewhat grandiose, testament to the rich family it once housed, come with me to Rundāle Palace in the Latvian countryside. Its 18th century splendour has been painstakingly restored and is in places almost overwhelming in its extravagance.
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While the flat lands East Anglia may lack scenic drama the big skies that arch overhead are often awesome. As we drove up to Norfolk at the end of July the silvery tones of a dappled mackerel sky begged to be photographed. But we had a party to go to and no time to stop. The following day, disappointingly, the sky was a uniform grey and a little drizzly after overnight rain. Today’s photography was clearly going to be all about details and subjects to be found at ground level!
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July may not be my favourite month (I prefer May or September). But there has been much to like about this past July, which was bookended with special celebrations.
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I left you all at the stunning Kings College chapel. Now let’s continue our walk. From Kings we walked past the Old Schools which house the Cambridge University offices and formerly housed the Cambridge University Library.
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When I was a child my mother, despite being the most unreligious person I know, would always insist on listening to (and in later years watching) the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols from King’s on Christmas Eve. That pause for beautiful music amidst the frenetic preparations for the big day was as much part of our family’s Christmas traditions as Mum’s recipe for Christmas pudding and the Morecombe and Wise show in the evening.
