Farewell England ...I'm at HKK Airport- The LAST POST

It sort of seems a long time since I blogged - but of course, it has only been a day and a bit - I'm here in transit at HKK International - clean, quiet, and free wifi!! why do things run so smoothly in some places? ..so this will be a Blog in transit.

On Friday after a wonderful and peaceful day at the British Library - I hurried about like a madwoman to catch a final glimpse of some Art .I set off to the National Gallery for the Corot to Monet exhibition.From its own archives of the National Gallery's lavish collection of 19th century French masterpieces, Corot to Monet charts the development of open-air landscape painting up to the first great Impressionist exhibition of 1874. It begins with small- scale oil sketches Denis, Pierre Henri de Valenciennes and Thomas Jones, works of art painted directly from nature in Rome and Naples in the 1780s. There are works from the Barbizon School as the exhibition examines how painters such as Théodore Rousseau, Jean François Millet and Narcisse-Virgilio Diaz de la Peña captured their native scenery.
By this stage I had almost murdered a few tourists (mainly those who sort of stand there to tick off their catalogue entry)...just as well I was relaxed ...
The exhibition went on to trace the influence of these canvases on the Impressionists as the Paris-based movement began experimenting with new techniques. Monet's The Beach at Trouville and other early efforts are on show alongside the beach scenes of Eugène Boudin and later works by Corot.

Call me boring but as usual I was drawn to Monet's work. However, it was interesting to look at the origins of the impressionists and be able to trace the development, especially as I had little knowledge of Corot. Two of my favourite works were - two iconic views of London by Monet and fellow refugee, Charles-Francois Daubigny.Monet's The Thames below Westminster captures the stillness of the then recently built Houses of Parliament, while Daubigny's St Paul's from the Surrey Side portrays a modern industrial city.

Fighting off the crowds in inner London is not my favourite pastime - and Trafalgar Square on a Friday evening is NO fun.. but it had been worth the effort and I finally made it back to Kilburn as Matthew and I had planned a night out. As it turned out he offered to make a great green salad (reminiscent of the Monti days) and I needed greens - so we polished off the salad accompanied by a bottle of Limsestone Coast Shiraz! By now we were both quite merry, and throwing caution to the wind decided to go to a local - for dessert and more wine.

Hugo's is basically on the next street - a resturaunt/bar which serves organic food and wine and has live Jazz.

I can't remember much past the next glass of French something and the Eton Mess (something resembling strawberries and Meringue)....we swayed home ....great night ..but ugh - an early morning ahead.


The morning started with a rendezvous with Dylan and Tessa at C'est Ici for a coffee and croissant .. feeling a little bit seedy - but bright sunny skies and caffeine did the trick.
We set off for Hammersith to collect goodies for our planned picnic on the Thames at Hampton Court. First to Blanche to get some scrummy Portuguese tarts (found later these were almost as good as my sister Ingrid's), then to a great Deli callled Sundrica and to Marks and Sparks for other fine dining items.

Dylan had worked out bus routes so we could be covered by our Travelcard - the added bonus being that we had a meandering trip via Kew Gardens and through what must once have been the ancient villages of Kewand Richmond. We passed the Maids of Honour - an old Bakery in Richmond that has been baking since the days of the Henry the VIII court and home of the 'Maid of Honour Cake'. The Maid of Honour cake has been part of Richmond history for nearly 300 years. Although there are numerous legends about its origin, it is generally believed that Henry VIII was the first to use the name when he met Ann Boleyn and other Maids of Honour eating the cakes from a silver dish. Apparently legend has it that King Henry VIII was so delighted with the cakes that the recipe was kept secret and locked in an iron box in Richmond Palace.

We finally at arrived at Hampton Court Palace and as we were starving elected to have lunch first- found a good spot on the banks of the Thames and indulged in what must go down as one of the best picnics I have ever had. Tessa had carefully packed wine goblets, cutlery and plates for the delicious spread - Fresh Ciabatta, Foccacia, Black Olives, Chilli and Coriander Pate, Cos Lettuce, the sweetest cherry tomatoes, fresh Mozarella and the runniest ripe French Brie ...all washed down by a bottle of fresh lemonade....what bliss.

Fully sated, we were ready for four hours of historical exploration - I had been here before with my friend Jonathon Blake in 1995 - the Privy Garden had just been re-planted and we had almost had the castle to ourselves, thanks to Jonathon's connections with the Elizbethan Theatre Company for whom he was a costume designer - but, today was a Saturday, the first sunny one in a while and school summer holidays...I shuddered at the prospect. However, I did manage to espcape from the crowds (in my head) and somehow managed to exclude them from my photos.

This place is the story of two palaces: a Tudor palace, magnificently developed by Cardinal Wolsey and later Henry VIII, alongside a baroque palace built by William III and Mary II.
With its 500 years of royal history Hampton Court Palace almost too much to take in, in one day. Set in sixty acres of world famous gardens the Palace is a living tapestry of history from Henry VIII to George II. From the elegance of the recently restored eighteenth century Privy Garden to the domestic reality of the Tudor Kitchens we are taken back through the centuries to experience the Palace as it was when royalty was in residence.

The Privy Garden as it appears today is one of the most accurately reconstructed gardens because so much was recorded about the original 1702 garden. William III died before it was completely finished and all the gardeners and workmen were so scared of not being paid that they submitted the fullest accounts for all their work. Even so, many of them including Tijou who made the ironwork and the supplier of the statues were never paid in full by Queen Anne. The Privy Garden represents a formal style of gardening which fell out of fashion soon after this garden was originally made.

This garden from Henry VIII’s day was always the King’s private garden, and very few people would ever have gained admittance to it up until the 18th century. Even then, it remained a private garden for the grace and favour residents of the palace right up until the early 20th century. So it is quite privilige to spend time in the garden now - to meander the paths quite freely. The highlights for me were too many to list - however, a standout was the Royal Chapel - absolutely exquisite with its blue and gold vaulted ceiling, and its elaborate parquetry floors and red velvet choirister seats. This chapel has remained the Chapel of Worship for every English monarch since it was built.

Another favourite was the many fireplaces in the chambers of the King and Queen and of course the wonderful 'Knot Gardens' with their windowed ouvres cut into the yew hedges. I was absolutely exhausted and found a quiet bench to reflect while Dylan and Tessa still raced around the grounds - oh to be young again!

At 6.00 Tessa and I were the last to be let out of the rarher large wooden doors - we pause for a while in Clock Court to admire the gold leaf on the blue clockface and I marvelled once more and the magnificent chimneys - large - red brick in winding geometrical patterns standing like sentinels on the rooftops - wouldn't they have a few stories to tell?- if only they could talk.

After a much needed cup of tea at Bluebeckers on the River, and one of our 'tarts' (snuck in in our bags) - we made our way back to Richmond to Carluccio's for final hurrah - the 'last supper' - Calamari and Penne with a spicy tomato sauce - a glass of Sicilian red and a long trip home - it was 11.00 pm and I was in no mood for packing - but I did have to face it and was amazed that everything fitted in the suitcase.

Farewell to Matthew and an early trip to Heathrow - where Dylan and Tessa were kind enough to drag themselves out of bed on a Sunday morning to see me off. The usual security nightmare ... Bags @ 23 kg .... and finally, CX252 departed on time and without much fuss - up into the ether -carrying me away laden with so many wonderful experiences, adventures and sensations that will fill my memory with sweet fragments for a long long time.

Monday 27th ...almost 26 hours in transit ...Melbourne - Tullamarine Airport - queues, sniffer dogs, questions, form filling ...Graeme's welcoming smile awating patiently to whisk me home to Geelong.

It's Tuesday today and as I complete this last Blog I am jetlagged and living in trepidation of the early morning start on VLine tomorrow - this will not be a St Pancras International experience - then there is the thought of work???? The bags have been unpacked - the mail opened ... accounts still to be dealt with (Sigh) Then there's the small matter of my beloved BMW - it sort of died while I was away - and at the cost of a large sum of money is to be revived over the next week - just what a girl needs to hear at midnight on the send last day of her holiday ... (Sigh) Then of course, there's the anxiety of seeing Dad again ..how will he be? (Sigh)

However, as I opened the gate late last night and walked up my garden path, I breathed in the cold nght air which was suffused with the early blooming Daphne - I opened the door, turned on the central heating, had a hot shower with plenty of free flowing water, and lay down in my very comfortable warm bed with Tigger (my hot water bottle) - I was home ...and, as much as I have loved being away, there's nothing like home.

So it's time to say farewell from me on this journey - and in doing so, and reflecting on the wonderful time I've had, I want to thank all my friends and family who in so many ways directly or indirectly contributed to making all this possible - because it was not just the generosity of friends and strangers overseas who contributed to the happy experience by offers of space in their lives - but it was also the unselfish generosity of family, friends and colleagues who contributed to the experience, who by generously stepping into the breach and supporting me in so many everyday ways - played a critical role in alllowing me the space to actually get away.

So, a great big thanks to each one of you - your friendship is one of the most precious things I have - I feel truly blessed -

I will leave you with these words of Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
and be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that the passing there
had worn them really about the same,
and both that morning equally lay,
in leaves no step had trodden back,
on, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted as I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh.
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference.



Lots of love,

Lariane xx