Guest Blog: The Great British Summer, Part Two

By Nina (eldest daughter)

The second part of my series focuses on one of the most integral parts of the British summer: the day trip to the seaside.

After a long period of contemplation as to the ideal destination for our trip, three friends and I decided on Brighton (or "B-"right on" as I am reliably informed it is nicknamed, due to its huge population of hippies, students, and other people relevant to our interests). This was partly due to its reputation as generally a lovely place to be, partly to its relative closeness to London, and partly to our massive respect for Caroline Lucas who won her party (the Greens) their first seat in the House of Commons there earlier this year (unfortunately we did not run into her there, more's the pity).

Having arranged the trip, packed our lunches, and picked a date early August, a ridiculously early start saw the four of us navigating the almost entirely "closed for maintenance purposes" London transport system to make our way to London Bridge Station, truly the most hideous of the London National Rail stations. Clutching desperately on to our super-saver rail passes, picnic lunches, and the only organised member of our group, we finally managed to find seats on the crowded train between the (many) hen parties also traveling to Brighton.

On the train we entertained ourselves by reading out articles from magazines and listening to the summer playlist which I had made for just such an occasion.

The trip was much shorter than I had imagined, and just under an hour in the train took us from gloomy grimy London to this:

Admittedly still rather on the gloomy side, but it was much better than we had dared hope for with the weather forecasts for that day predicting thunderstorms and wind.

We set up our picnics on the beach (where there were even some brave people swimming!), and found ourselves having to strip off tights and jackets as the day started to warm up. As none of us had had the foresight to bring picnic blankets (there's always something) this proved particularly handy, as our discarded layers served as makeshift seating.

If there's one thing about British beaches I will never get used to it's the fact that rather than the golden sand which I am used to, they are covered in pebbles. However, the beauty and charm of Brighton more than made up for this, and I was soon completely in love.

After our lunch we stopped at a souvenir store to buy some postcards for family and friends, and in my case to greedily pick out the biggest stick of Brighton Rock I could find:

Having somehow managed to eat the whole thing, we started off for the pier, only to get caught in a massive downpour. We ducked into a nearby shopping centre to wait it out, and amused ourselves browsing through Waterstones and HMV. The rain cleared up fairly quickly, though, and we soon decided it was safe to head for the pier.

On our way we passed a carousel which we stopped to take a ride on:

A sign advertising a local museum:

And a hilarious poster which we all wanted pictures with:

By this point the sky was bright and clear, and we could see the pier in the distance:

As we got closer we also got more excited, happily planning which rides we would go on.

Finally we reached the pier:

The weather at this point was extremely changeable, and it switched rapidly back and forth from sunny to rainy, as is clear in this photo of the entrance to the pier featuring blue skies and yet umbrellas lining the way:

The good weather continued to be fairly on-off for the rest of the day, but on the whole it was much better than the reports had implied.

We managed to fit in yet another merry-go-round ride, me on the horse:

And one of my friends on a rooster (!?):

The bloke of our group even braved the bucking bronco:

And did quite well! (Although not quite well enough to win a prize, but A for effort I suppose...).

The view from the pier was spectacular:

And we pottered around very happily for another few hours before it was time to head back for the train.

We stopped briefly on the beach one last time:

And amused ourselves by paddling and skipping stones (somewhat unsuccessfully in my case...)

But it was time to leave, and we walked back with heavy hearts, finally arriving at the station:

And boarding our train:

The trip back was far sadder than the one out, and upon arriving home I immediately demanded to my family that we go back to Brighton as soon as possible.

So what have we learned from this year's summer?

1. Don't reply on the weather report. It will be wrong.
2. Don't rely on the weather itself, either. It will rain, it did at Cornbury and it did at Brighton. Don't let it ruin your day.
3. Leading on from number 2, wear layers. Even if you don't need them, they will double as picnic equipment in a pinch.
4. Always have at least one organised friend with you.
5. Where there are hippies, there's a good time, and,
6. Enjoy yourself! Don't spend all your time moaning. In summer there are always reasons to be cheerful...

Guest Blog: The Great British Summer, Part One

By Nina (Eldest daughter)

As the summer draws to a close (did it even properly begin?), the inevitable forward march of the seasons and the impending dawn of dark afternoons, wellington boots, woolly hats, and the drizzly dreary months of autumn and winter cast a rosy hue on your memories of summer. The rain-soaked barbecues which had relied on the BBC weatherman's promise of a sunny afternoon and which went horribly wrong become the greatest meals of your life. The tedious village cricket match featuring a hodgepodge team of several overenthusiastic fathers, a handful of braying home-counties OAPs, and a sprinkling of disappointed teenagers becomes the most gripping sporting event witnessed by man, a series of athletic feats finished up with a heroic victory. The overpriced Pimm's with more fruit than strictly necessary crammed into the glass before it was poured to ensure the use of the minimum possible amount of actual Pimm's becomes the ambrosia of the gods.

In these two guest blogs I will explore the two aspects of the British summer which I love, and which I truly did enjoy despite the questionably summery weather, starting with Part One: The Music Festival.

Armed with our tickets and wristbands, my friend and I set out on our journey across the Oxfordshire countryside.

The trip there involved many winding, narrow roads, charming villages, and one or two cows, but we got there eventually.

Cornbury is massively family friendly, and there were people of all ages milling around, enjoying the funfare and the candy floss stalls.

The festival has, through its usual patrons and general atmosphere, earned itself the soubriquet 'Poshstock'; this is probably somewhat justified given that it is possibly the only music festival in the UK where you will be greeted by these sights:

Posh or not, the festival still has its share of typical festival goers, from aging hippies... to younger hippies:

And of course the food linked in with this, too:

There was a massive amount of different kinds of food to choose from:

But in the end we chose to share a not-so-healthy plate of Mexican deliciousness:

By this time the festival was crowded, with the day pass carriers arriving en masse, and the campers making their way down from the campsite.

And of course, it was time for the most important part of the event: the music.

The Blockheads were there, proving that they can still rock:

Despite their age and the death of Ian Drury, the Blockheads were undoubtedly one of the most charismatic and energetic bands who performed; absolute rock legends.

Later the lovely Newton Faulkner played a set. I hadn't had much experience of him beforehand, but he completely blew me away with his obvious talent and charming personality.

As the day wore on, other bands such as Reef and The Feeling played (The Feeling as amazing as I had hoped that they would be). The sky grew darker, the fields slightly worse for the wear:

But there was an incredible buzz in the air as everyone prepared themselves for the headline act: the incomparable Jackson Browne.

Having set up site right in front of the stage a good hour before he was due to start playing, my friend and I had an unrivaled view:

And then he arrived, the man himself:

As if the evening couldn't get any better, he was accompanied by David Lindley! They played an amazing set, with all of the golden oldies (Mercury Blues, Running on Empty, Somebody's Baby), as well as some awesome new material.

An amazing day and an amazing experience, music festivals are clearly the way to go to experience the best of the British summer.

Beaubourg Revisited

 I first visited Beaubourg on a trip to Paris with my brother, in the late 70s when it was just newly opened. 

Back then it was the architecture of the place that was the big talking point. The team who designed it - including Italian Renzo Piano and Brits Richard and Su Rogers (he later married Ruth of River Café fame) - had 'turned the architecture world upside down', according to the NY Times in 1977, by creating a public arts building in which all the innards - plumbing, heating ducts, electrical wiring - were visible on the outside, painted in bold primary colours.

What I remember being most struck by on that early trip, though, apart from the startling exterior, was the people-friendliness of the interior. In the massive public libraries, galleries and research centres it housed there was not a trace of the stuffiness, deathly quiet and lingering boredom that you expected of places like that. Instead it was filled with students my age, kids and older people comfortably lounging on the floor or wherever, chatting about new discoveries. A space for the people. I loved it instantly.

Going back there last week it wasn't much different, though we had a more specific mission - the musée d'art moderne - 

(ok, I have to admit this guy was kind of stuffy)


to satisfy the curiosity of a thirteen-year-old with a love for Kandinsky

 and Picabia

Rothko

Picasso

and help - whose car smash is this again?

Zooming up the escalators (also on the exterior - naturellement, to give one the best view) ...

we watch the street artists outside become ant-like and are greeted with higher altitude sights ...

At the very top we are headed - since an excess of art is exhausting, bien sûr, and one is gagging by now for a drink and some nibbles - for the rooftop café with the best views in Paris

and this, um, plant pot

But sadly it is possible to die before your order is taken here, so off we go on the vélibs stacked up outside, headed for cafés greener ...

(How will London's very own Boris Bikes match up to these beauties I wonder?)

Paris Address Book

While it's hard to be disappointed by the sights of Paris - beauty is everywhere you look - it is certainly possible to have mediocre eating, shopping or accommodation experiences. Though we've made wonderful finds by chance, personal recommendations usually work best, and I make a habit of squirrelling these away.

So, in the spirit of generosity - (well no, actually because I'm pretty sure only about three people in the world actually read my blog) - I offer you just a few of my personal favourites for the Paris address book ...

First of all, since nothing cheers me up quite like a spot of shopping ... my favourite interior shop, possibly in the entire world, is located in what may be the prettiest little square in Paris - 

Place de Furstenberg, right behind St Germain des Près – painted by Hockney, location for films (in Martin Scorsese’s The Age of Innocence Michele Pfeiffer’s character’s apartment was one of those windows top left) and home of the Musee Delacroix (he lived and worked here). Here is Flamant, outside and in.

For more traditional, classic French interiors, I love the gorgeous Mis en Demeure (27 rue du Cherche-Midi, 75006). I could move in there too and die happily. (See also Windlost blog for a great, photo-filled post on this shop: http://windlost.blogspot.com/2008/10/paris-post-mis-en-demeure.html)

And then, because eating makes me every bit as happy as shopping, je vous propose ces restaurants ...

Hotel du Nord on the bank of the Canal St Martin (10th arrondissement), right here ...

No, it's not a hotel, though it was once. It's named for the 1938 film of doomed love by Marcel Carné and retro glamour is what it's all about.

(photo credit: Lisa Weatherbee, hipparis.com) 

102 Quai de Jemmapes 75010
The atmosphere and décor is divine and we had great food served by dishy, friendly, efficient waiters.

Perhaps the best restaurant find of last week's trip though was the Laiterie Sainte Clotilde in St Germain (64 rue de Bellechasse 75007).

 Don't be put off by the 70s formica tables - this tiny place is run by the warmest, friendliest people (older woman who masterminds the menu plus sweet young thing just visible on the right above with mobile and fag, who serves and bartends) and serves a changing menu of seasonal food (three entrées, three plats, three desserts). We were lucky to get a table; by 9.00 pm it was humming, filled with a mix of elderly locals, beautiful young bobos, and suits from the neighbourhood Ministeries. We had our best meal in Paris here will so definitely go back.

Thank you HiPparis blog for this recommendation. And HiP (Haven in Paris) is a fantastic source, by the way, for beautiful apartments to rent in Paris for short-term stays. We have used them twice and not been disappointed.

We also discovered Les Nuits des Thés , not far from Musee d'Orsay, 22 rue de Beaune 75007...

 

... a salon de thé and also divine place for lunch – all pink toile and home made salads and wonderful patisseries. This is another family run treasure, with friendly Jacqueline (the patronne), her little son, grand-mère et grand-père all helping out. 

And finally, we returned to some old favourites. Yes, I know Les Deux Magots is hopelessly touristy but I do love that polished brass and wood, old-style 1920s glamour ... 

(the waiters are easy on the eye too) ...

 Breakfast here is my favourite way to start a day in Paris ...

Le Grizzli in the Marais - a stone’s throw from Beaubourg - (7 rue St-Martin 75004) is a bistro where we’ve always had a good experience over many years, with friendly staff and outside seating where you can happily sit with a bottle of wine and a view of the world passing you by, while you tuck into this ...

or this ...

maybe ending off with this ...

This is the apartment building right opposite Le Grizzli where I want to live when I’m grown up (the lighted window will be mine)...