Steyning

Saturday 9th July

Pyramidal Orchids on a street verge

 Leaving Bramber and walking westwards up Clays Hill into Steyning, the hill is less steep than I remember it, I daresay the effect of living six years in very hilly New Zealand! I called by a friends house, but no-one is awake- it's still very early. A few minutes walk I saw these Pyramidal Orchids on the roadside. These flowers, while not exceedingly rare, are somewhat scarce and to find them growing in a housing estate was quite a surprise- they are usually associated with the pastures of the open downland. Whereas most of the verges here are mown short to lawn-length, here the grass has been allowed to achieve some length and a variety of wild flowers have thrived as a result.
 

The Laines Road house- we lived here from 1986 for a decade

  A couple of minutes to the house in Laines Road where Susie and I lived from around 1986. Our daughter Rachel was born here in 1989.
 The houses in this street were one of at least three groups of houses of similiar design that were built in different locations around the periphery of Steyning town during the late 'twenties and early 'thirties by the esteemed Steyning builder Frank Duke. He was well known for his grander houses in the elite Goring Road and Holland Road area of Steyning, as well as for church restoration work around Sussex. I imagine these simple houses provided much needed work for his tradesmen during the lean years of the depression.

Entrance to Canada Gardens allotment

Near the northern end of Laines Road, alongside adjoining Newham Lane, the allotments known as Canada Gardens are well hidden from public view by a rough hedge of thorn, maple and elder well grown through by ivy and old-mans-beard . An Act of Parliament early in the 20th century required local authorities to provide these gardens at minimal rents to anyone who required one. Steyning has around one hundred of these gardens in two blocks. The block nearer the town (called "Rublees", an ancient field-name)  has better soil and has, in my lifetime always been fairly well subscribed. This block (known by the old-timers as "Canadee") was always less popular. because of it's thin soil and further distance from the town.

Now thriving, 25yrs ago it lay almost derelict

 Susie and I took allotments here when we moved into the Laines Road house. At that time- the mid 'eighties- we were, I believe one of only perhaps three tenants on the entire block of around fifty gardens. Each plot was an area of four "rods", that is to say, around a hundred square metres at a rent of something around five pound a year! We very  quickly "grew" to occupy four plots, two of which were cultivated and upon two we kept hens for eggs and guinea-fowl for meat. My recollection is of an endless war against bindweed, the deep roots of which emerged from cracks in the chalk rock that was only a foot below the soil surface, thus rendering complete removal an impossibility.

  A year or two after we started gardening here, old Frank Giles (my stepnans brother) died and we had the entire block to ourselves for a year or two. After 1986 when we rented the seventy acres that I christened "Court Hill Farm" from Johnny Goring, we had tons of manure from cattle housed each winter at Charlton Court that I dug out of sheds by hand and carted up to the allotments behind the old David Brown 990 tractor. Still, I don't recall the gardens ever being as productive as ours in New Zealand are now. Thin soils, lack of water (hosepipes were not allowed) the constant battle against perennial weeds and the lack of the understanding and empathy for the soil and plants that goes with maturity all militated to make gardening at these allotments something of a bitter experience. Having said that, the current generation of gardeners seem to be making a very good go of it. I think the new focus on permaculture principles,  mulching and so-on that have taken over from the old-school tedium of double-digging and other manifestations of the kind of  puritan work ethic of  yesteryear have encouraged new gardeners by returning better results from a given input of effort. Having said that, the really great gardeners of yesteryear, among whom I count grandad George Woollven and great uncles John and George Brown of Beeding, and family friend John Durrant of Steyning- all now alas long departed- seemed to get fantastic results without breaking into much of a sweat!

25yrs ago the cherry tree was a tiny seedling

It appears that the Steyning Parish Council, who administrate the allotments, have revised the ground plan to make the layout less regimented, which, I guess in these less formal times makes the gardens more attractive to families, who, judging by the presence of picnic chairs and tables, utilise this space as a picnic and leisure resource. The greenhouses and brightly painted sheds dotted around make for a homely appeal that was never there back in the old days. One remnant from the days of our lonely occupancy on this site is a cherry tree. When we rented our first allotment, this was a tiny seedling, no doubt the result of some wild bird voiding the stone of a delicious cherry at the very edge of the garden. I made sure it did not get mown down, and by the time it was ten years old it was ten feet high and as thick as a mans arm. Now, at the age of twenty five years, it is thirty feet high with a breadth of around sixteen inches, and apparently yields baskets full of fruit most years, for which the birds are most grateful. They even leave a few for the gardeners!

My Ancestral Home- Beeding and Bramber.

 9th July - Beeding

Mum's garden looka a picture

Saturday morning, 4am. I have been awake for 30 mins and am aware that the rapidly lightening grey visible through the curtain chink is not the night sky but the early midsummer dawn of  these higher latitudes. In New Zealand we are ten degrees closer to the equator and thus our midsummer and midwinter daylength vary considerably less from the average twelve hours. Obvious, but not really apparent until you have been away and come back. Of course the upside is that we do not have to suffer the dead days of the British mid-winter which are so short one must travel to and fro work in blackness.

From the garden gate across the river Adur

A small boat swings on its mooring

  Leaving the house quietly by the back-door, Mum's garden looks a picture in the early morning half-light. For an instant I am confused- the brightness of dawn appears to be in the wrong place!  I realise in a moment that in the northern hemisphere the sun appears to track the opposite way around the sky than in New Zealand. Out through the back-gate onto the east bank of the river Adur.  Just downstream a small boat belonging to a neighbour swings gently on its mooring-rope, while far upstream on the opposite bank the white flint and lime remnant of the gatehouse of Bramber castle presides sentinel over the dark arbor-green of  the trees that  grow on its mound and around its moat.

Back of the Kings Head

I walk upstream a couple of minutes, then turn away from the river-bank through the garden of the Kings Head, named to commemorate the escape of Charles 1st during the civil war, who passed this way on his journey to Brighton where he was spirited away to France. The back of the building is a typical example of the vernacular style in the downland villages, as are the "knappers cottages" on the opposite side of the high street and at the lower end of Church Lane- brick ashlar at the corners and around the doors and windows (often mimicked but rarely reproduced by modern builders) with downland flint laid in courses in a lime mortar for the body of the work.

Knappers Cottages

Glenside" now No.33, was our family home from 1966

 From late victorian times the coursed flint was often replaced with a "vertical crazy paving" style known as "snail-creep", as can be seen in the terrace of cottages further up Church Lane near the primary school. Built in 1911, these are probably the very last cottages in the village to be built in solid 9" masonry using the flint primarily for its structural strength rather than for aesthetic reasons, a fact attested by the internal load-bearing walls being of flint, rather than of brick. Here, the cottage named "Glenside" now No.33, was our family home from 1966, when we moved  from Mill Road, Steyning. The house was previously the home of "Nan Brown", my fathers maternal grandmother, who had died earlier that year.  She may have lived there with her husband, who died in 1948, since it was built!

Beeding primary school

 Opposite the primary school, a large Victorian mansion stood behind an enormous horse-chestnut tree. In my youth this was the family home of the Lockhead family. Moya Lockhead was a classmate of mine in primary school and Mrs Lockhead was a "dinner lady" at the school. When we returned to school in September after the summer holiday, the horse-chestnuts were ripening and were keenly sought for the playing of the game of "conkers". Throwing sticks and stones into the tree to encourage the large shiny brown nuts to fall was strongly disapproved of and, if caught, would result in a visit to the office of the headmaster Mr Frederick Arthur  Towl- who was, obviously, known to the pupils as "the Fat Owl"!. Mr Towl lived in the most elevated house in Beeding, at the very top of  College Hill and Maines Farm Road, from where, we felt, he could view the goings-on of all the children in the village, even during the weekends and holidays. The Lockhead house is recently demolished, and on the site now the foundations of three large detached houses. The splendid tree, however, remains.
 A little further up Church Lane, a left turn into Priory Field, left again into Saltings Way then right down a short pathway to the saltings. This is the remnant of a much larger field where we used to play as children. This low-lying pasture was slowly filled with earth and rubble from the Church Lane side towards the river, culminating with the development of new housing in Church Lane and the construction of a new road and housing called Saltings Way. The remnant contains signs of three mediaeval "salterns"- shallow pools where sea-water coming in on the tide was captured and allowed to evaporate for the production of salt. It is now managed as a haven for an assortment of wildlife.

Beeding bridge and the former Bridge Inn

 Crossing the saltings onto the riverbank and turning left- downstream toward Beeding Bridge and the Bridge Inn. This was my first pub,and a favourite then of the local farmworkers, who would play cribbage, darts or bar-billiards over a few pints of King and Barnes bitter or mild ale. Here at the age of fifteen we would be allowed to buy a half-pint of mild ale on the understanding that if anyone should ask, it belonged to one of the older men. This apprenticeship must surely have produced more responsible drinkers than the current system of ID cards and then at age 18 thrown into anonymous binge-drinking at town-centre bars where there are no older men to provide a steadying influence. Alas, the Bridge Inn is recently closed, now merely an empty building awaiting re-development.

St Nicholas Church and Bramber Castle ruins

 Turning right across the river and through Bramber Street, the sun is now rising and the castle ruins and St Nicholas' church adjecent are illuminated in contrast with the street houses which remain in relative gloom. Ascending past the church, framed by its lych-gate and onto the castle grounds, half a dozen fat rabbits seem unconcerned by my approach until I am quite close when they loll-off. now they live in a country where no-one hunts and no cottager covets their flesh for a delicious rabbit-pie, they have lost their timidity.

St Nicholas' Church through the lych-gate

The ruined gatehouse of Bramber Castle

 Descending from the castle grounds, I cross the street and descend the drive to the Castle Nursery, where my friend John Kellet has his plant-raising business alomgside the site of the former Bramber railway station. Halfway down the drive I meet a pig who lives in a sty alongside the drive. I have since found out that the pig is named Victoria and is a pet of a neighbouring house. At the Castle Nursery all is quiet. No-one is awake yet. Of course- the time is still only 5.45am!

Victoria the Pig awakes early

Outward Bound

NEL-AKL-SIN 7th July
  Free internet here at Singapore Changi airport so I thought I'd use it.
 I didn't realise that Auckland international was in a different building to the domestic terminal so I wandered up and down a couple of times before asking a hospitality driver guy. Signage terrible and both info desks unmanned at the same time.

  In-flight movies. Shutter Island- psychological thriller Leonardo DeCaprio bears a striking resemblance to Orson Welles at the same age; Flawless, gentle 1950's crime intrigue refreshingly devoid of violence featuring Michael Caine and Demi Moore

 Upon our descent to Singapore's Changi airport we encountered a localised thunderstorm and were somewhat buffeted by heavy turbulence. At an altitude of just a few hundred metres, the pilot had to accelerate to gain a little height and perform a left-then-right banking manoeuvre to bring us back onto our approach path. At first I thought it indicated that we would be making a fresh approach circuit, but the pilot obviously managed to accommodate the re-alignment well within safe limits.
 Thursday evening at Harrys Bar in the airport- A singer/guitarist/harmonica player there- jazz, rock and classical pieces- all challenging. I was chatting during his break and mentioned that I would have been singing at the Moutere Inn had I been at home- He invited me and I sang "Birds in the Spring". I don't know if the audience appreciated it, maybe they applauded me for my cheek!
 Stayed last night in the Ambassador Transit Hotel on the mezzanine floor in the Singapore terminal. Cheap, excellent facility. When I see the miserable faces of those lying on the seats trying to grab a few minutes sleep I am grateful. I'm sure a proper sleep at the half way stage must help alleviate the jetlag.

SIN-LHR 8th July
 I woke before six, left the hotel and walked the length of the terminal building and back- thereby discovering the free internet! Dawn comes quickly in Singapore because of it's proximity to the equator. In the time it took me to write this it turned from black to daylight. I breakfasted on local  Peranakan style food at Kim Choo on the mezzanine food court- good, then killed a few hours reading the papers and visiting the Butterfly Garden. My own camera was in my checked baggage so these pics are from the net.
http://www.butterflyhouseconsultancy.com/changi-airport-butterfly-garden.html
 The plane from Singapore to Heathrow was the new Airbus A-380. the worlds largest, and an unbelievably quiet and smooth ride. I occupied the flight by discovering the work of Gustav Mahler. My favourite was the Symphony No 2 "Auferstehung". Recorded at Ely Cathedral in the 1970's. It brought tears to my eyes.
 Cleared Immigration (now renamed Border Control) and Customs very quickly and onto the bus station. Coach to Gatwick, then picked up by Mum & Vic for the half-hour drive to Beeding. Time for a quick bite, then bed.