Forsaken fortress

What with the never-ending rain card we have been dealt of late, throwing a spanner or two in the works on most weekends, there really hasn't been a lot going on in my life.

So, our hearts were making little leaps of joy when, quite unexpectedly, it was mostly dry on Saturday the 28th of October. The sun even got the odd look-in throughout the day and the mercury climbed to a more than reasonable 15°C. Never mind that, as a rehearsal for Storm Ciarán which would pay us an unwanted visit later that week, we had to contend with gusts of blustery wind from mid-afternoon onwards.

But whatever the weather, it's always a joy to play dress-up, and especially so during the weekend, when I've got time on my hands to play around with my wardrobe.

I had been looking forward to wearing this green zig-zaggy acrylic and polyester blend skirt, which was a present from Vix when we met up back in June. It's vintage St. Michael, the label narrowing it down to the 1970s according to this recently discovered and very helpful website.

The skirt is the only vintage item in this outfit, which does, however, include another gift: the chunky green ring, which I got from Claire during the same meet-up. 

My necklace with its mix of wooden and raffia beads was a charity shop find, as were the dark green textured leather belt and the red ankle boots. The green beaded brooch was picked up from the indoor flea market in Mechelen in January.

Finally, my blouse was a bargainous retail buy from an outlet shop in November 2022. It's from the funky Belgian Who's That Girl label. 

After our usual fruit & yoghurt breakfast, I culled my collection of cardigans, only leaving the King Louie, Zoë Loveborn and any other similar quality ones, which I then reorganized by colour so that I can see what I've got at a glance.

Then, after lunch, we drove to the local branch of C&A as Jos was in need of a Winter coat. Keeping an open mind, his only requirement had been a decent number of inside pockets. As luck would have it, we soon found the perfect one: a black knee-length wool coat, which you'll get to see him wearing soon. While we were there, I also talked him into buying two pairs of slim fit trousers and a belt.

Afterwards, we continued to the edge-of-town charity shop for my rummaging fix. Here, my first find was a blue, psychedelically patterned, handmade cotton midi skirt, which is currently hibernating until Spring.

I also added to my burgeoning collection of belts with a brown pleated leather one, which turned out to be by Spanish label Massimo Dutti, and which originally retailed at just under € 50. Another stretchy belt, with a rectangular wooden buckle, ended up in my basket as well. I paid the fixed price for belts - which is € 2,50 in this particular chain of shops - for both!

Finally, I caught sight of this gorgeous cobalt blue cotton maxi dress with crocheted insets, which was among the rail of leftovers from the infamous Day of the Charity Shops which had taken place the previous week. I did a double-take when I saw lingerie mentioned on the label. Surely this is too good to be a used as a nightdress?

After a night of  torrential rain accompanied by another round of blustery wind, we woke up to a dry, bright and sunny morning on Sunday. Again, highs of about 15°C had been forecasted, but yet more rain was expected in the afternoon.

Layering weather! My wardrobe contains a handful or two of short-sleeved knit dresses which come into their own at this time of year, so out came this bottle green one sprinkled with hundreds-and-thousands in a multitude of colours.

I'm in two minds about whether it was a charity shop or Think Twice find, but whatever the case, it came without a label, so that I had no idea of its origins. That is, until I came across the exact same dress a couple of years later, this time bearing a Wow To Go label. Wow To Go, by the way, is owned by the same company as the previously mentioned Who's That Girl, supposedly aimed at a slightly older audience. Not that I care one jot!

Its companions that day were a teal long-sleeved t-shirt and ditto opaques, while I piled on fuchsia accessories in the form of a chunky leather belt (retail), perspex ring (flea market) and recently charity shopped necklace. 

My embroidered brooch was part of a haul from an antiques emporium in Carmarthen, found on a rainy June day in 2017. 

The burgundy boots are vintage and came from Think Twice.

We'd changed to Winter Time overnight, which had made us feel a bit out of sorts that day. What we needed was a good old head-clearing walk so, with one eye on our phone's weather app, we drove down to Fort 5 in the neighbouring village of Edegem for an Autumnal ramble.

Fort 5 is part of a ring of 8 almost identical forts surrounding the city of Antwerp, built in the 1860s to protect the city from enemy fire. These forts, given the unimaginative names of Fort 1 up until Fort 8, were built about 2,5 km outside the city and about 2 km apart. Each of these was about 30 hectares and consisted of a central reduit, caponiers, platforms and earthen walls for artillery, all surrounded by a wide moat. Most of these have long ago been converted into nature reserves and recreational spaces. 

Not all that far from a busy road, it is a haven of peace and quiet - that is, if you disregard the playground, which on this late October Sunday was deserted - and a habitat for plenty of wildlife.

A blanket of green algae was covering the moat as far as the eye could see, but it didn't seem to bother the heron perched on a branch which had toppled into the water. 

There's a narrow footpath which circumnavigates the moat, but we veered off to the left instead, walking past the playground where we briefly stopped to show you my outerwear.

This consisted of the rather fabulous Desigual coat I found at Oxfam last Winter, my pink beret and a frilly pink scarf charity shopped in October 2019.

Continuing our walk, we soon came across a part of the old fort: a long row of low brick and sandstone buildings half-hidden among the undergrowth, its woodwork in various stages of dereliction.

We passed but ignored the fort's main entrance which leads you inside its creepily atmospheric inner sanctum, opting for a slightly longer walk instead.

Walking past the row of buildings and rounding a corner, we eventually re-joined the path running along the moat. 

The water was clearer here, with just the odd patch of green, and it seemed to be the place to be for the resident waterbirds of various plumage, including several prehistoric-looking cormorants and a magnificent blue heron.

The narrow winding path eventually takes you through a low tunnel where the fort bridges the moat. Here, even vertically challenged yours truly had to duck her head at one point.

At the end of the tunnel lies a series of heavily graffitied rooms where daylight slants through paneless windows, some of them still holding on to their weathered wooden frames or shutters. 

There are the remains of a fireplace in some of them, and time-battered electrical fittings. The eerie light in the room on the bottom left was courtesy of some translucent green foil which had been fixed to the ancient fluorescent tube. Would this be the scene of a spooky party, I wonder. We were, after all, just a couple of days short of Hallowe'en ...

Haphazard heaps of wind-blown leaves were gathered in corners and a not entirely unpleasant smell of dampness and decay was lingering in the air.

Another tunnel, with light at its end, leads off from the final room, emerging onto the moat side path once more.

As always when we walk here, my thoughts go out to my Dad, part of whose playground this was when he grew up in the village. It's also where his ashes have been laid to rest seven years ago on All Saints' Day, the First of November 2016.

We had come full circle by now, and about time too, as the sky was turning granite grey and it looked as if yet more showers were waiting in the wings.

And now, friends and readers, I'll be off the radar for a couple of days, as we are preparing for a long weekend away. I'm not holding out too much hope that it'll be a dry one, but who knows, once in a while miracles do happen.

See you on the other side!

One day like this a year would see me right

Hello, and welcome to episode # 3 of this year's Shropshire travelogue. 

It was Thursday the 15th of June, and we had a Date with a capital D. It had been pencilled into our diary for many weeks: a long overdue meet-up with my blogging friends Vix and Claire and their partners, Jon and Gareth.

As we wanted to make sure to have plenty of time to get ready and drive down to our destination, we'd even set our alarm clocks the night before, but I'm sure you won't be surprised if I tell you we were wide awake long before it went off!

Our destination that day was yet another National Trust property, Attingham Park, the Georgian Mansion commissioned in 1782 for Noel Hill, 1st Lord Berwick. 

Although it's only a leisurely drive of about 40 minutes from the cowshed, we took our precautions and left our little valley a full hour before the agreed meet-up time of 10.30. Well, we did have to take traffic, our Satnav's foibles and our tendency to drive past the entrance (which we did back in 2018, see here) into account. We needn't have feared, though, as it all went smoothly and we were in fact the first ones to arrive.

Soon, Vix and Jon rocked up in Patrice, their Lucifer Red Citroën C5, excitedly honking and waving when they saw us waiting in a shady spot near the entrance. Needless to say, lots of hugging ensued. Claire had WhatsApp'd me to say they were running a bit late, and about 10 minutes later she and Gareth trundled up the drive in their funky red Beetle. Just like it was when I first met Vix all those years ago, it was as if Claire and I had known each other for years!

As all of us were National Trust members - even if just temporary ones in our case - we were soon waved through at the ticket office. However, we decided to splurge and pay an extra € 3 per person for an exclusive tour of a two-storey apartment in the East Wing of the Mansion. 

As we had been booked in for the 12 pm tour, that left plenty of time for lots of chatting and having our photo taken by the paparazzi.

Plenty of time, too, for a stroll to the walled gardens ... until we remembered that it is quite a long way from the house and that we would never make it back on time. So, back we hurried, following the lead of Jon and Gareth who seemed to be knowing their way around. With just minutes to spare we arrived at what turned out to be the Mansion's exit. Fortunately, a kindly volunteer took pity on us and swiftly took us to the Picture Gallery where the tour was supposed to start.

Bawled over by the Picture Gallery's splendour, we admired the paintings lining the glossy red walls  - there was even one of the Picture Gallery itself, above, top right - as well as the other treasures on display, until we realized that 12 pm had come and gone and our tour guide was still conspicuous in his absence. 

So, we waited and waited, and waited some more, each of us in our own fashion. The photo on the bottom right in the above collage, in particular, made me smile. In the background, Vix is admiring the magnificent 18th Century organ at the east end of the gallery, while Claire is just about to take this stunning photo of her. To the left of them, Gareth is doing some kind of silly pose. On the plush green seat in the foreground, Jos is trying to get to grips with the info on the tickets, while Jon, the only one who was aware that I was taking a photo, is looking straight at the camera.

John Nash was commissioned in 1805 to add the picture gallery, a project that was flawed from the beginning as it suffered from leaks. Constructed using cast iron and curved glass to give the effect of coving, it throws light into the gallery below.  In 2013 work began on building a new protective roof above the delicate Nash roof, replacing the one installed in the 1970s with a new one which will stop leakage and reduce natural weather wear. 

Nash’s elaborately contrived Grand Staircase sparkles with a sense of Regency theatre, the domed skylight like a giant golden spider’s web hovering above.

I'm shamelessly repeating my own collage, created from photos taking during our 2019 visit here.

Meanwhile, more waiting ensued until our guide finally arrived, apologizing profusely for being late  before taking us up the Grand Staircase and to the private apartment. This was once used by Teresa, 8th Lady Berwick (1890-1972) and more recently by the late Mr Edwin D. Cohen, a retired American stockbroker and collector of all things Georgian, who lived here from 1986 until his death in 2020.

We soon discovered the reason for our guide's tardiness: he was truly passionate and knowledgeable about his subject - and Attingham in general - and we suspect his previous tour simply overran because of it. 

Photography wasn't allowed inside the apartment so if you want to see it for yourself, you'll have to get yourselves over there and book a tour. Suffice to say that it was fascinating to be allowed a look into a wealthy and avid collector's private quarters.

It was well past 1 pm when we left the house and made our way towards the Carriage House café for lunch, still reeling from the experience and blinking in the early afternoon sunlight.

It was another scorcher of a day, with temperatures easily reaching 26°C, and the heat trapped inside the walled garden made it feel even warmer.

The flower borders are looking their best at this time of year, attracting bees and butterflies with their vibrant colour and sweet scent. My favourite, which always makes me whip out my camera, is the lavender lined double border, here enhanced by Claire and Vix in their gorgeous pink and green dresses.

I think we all fell in love with the stunning double flowered Oriental Poppy (below, top right) as it got its photograph taken by all three of us girls!

Originally created in the 1780s, Attingham's team of gardeners have been bringing this important part of the estate back to life and production. After falling into disrepair, and having different uses in the 20th Century, the Georgian kitchen garden is both bountiful and a joy to behold today.

Vix snapped this picture of Jos and me. While Jos's outfit included both his new Clarks shoes and his charity shopped Marks & Sparks hat, I was wearing palazzo trousers and a peasant style blouse, both of which were old retail buys. My sandals - old sales bargain Clarks - were making another appearance.

The heat was getting a bit too much by now, so we made our way towards Attingham's two-acre orchard, where Vix and I reclined in a pair of conveniently placed deckchairs under the apple trees.

When Claire sent me the photo she'd taken of us, I told her I would be using it as my screensaver at work, a reminder of this blissful day filled with friendship and laughter.

We then followed the Mile Walk through the Pleasure Grounds under the cooling canopy of the woodland trees. After crossing a cable-stayed bridge over the River Tern, the woodland path continued until it opened up into grassland at the top of the Deer Park.

The heat was relentless here and with the sun burning down on us, another application of suntan lotion was required. Having left mine in the cowshed, I was happy to be able to make use of Claire's. 

Jos snapped the photo of the almost treeless grassland basking in full sunshine under a canopy of blue sky in which cotton wool clouds were drifting (below, top left). If you look carefully, you can see Claire, Vix and me approaching (you might have to enlarge and zoom in to see us). Chatting non-stop, and stopping to take photos, we were forever lagging behind.

Soon the Mansion came into view, and we slowly made our way towards it, crossing another bridge across the River Tern, where the resident cows were having a refreshing drink. 

This made us realize we were getting thirsty too, so we quickened our step in order to get to the Carriage House café before it closed. Turned out we were there just in the nick of time.

It was getting on to 5 pm and they almost had to turf us out by the time we'd reluctantly said our goodbyes. But not before snapping Claire and Vix enjoying an ice lolly!

And exchanging gifts obviously! 

I squealed in delight when I spotted the denim maxi dress Vix and Jon gave me. One of my holy grails, I hadn't yet been able to find what I was looking for, but apparently Vix thought of me as soon as she set eyes on this one. I can't wait for the weather to cool down sufficiently to give it its maiden outing.

Other gifts included a funky red belt, a vinyl Barbie case and - for Jos - a huge bottle of vintage Max Factor after-shave.

Jos was further spoiled with a Ted Baker shirt, a Paisley lined waistcoat and a pair of clip-on sunglasses. We both got books (mine another Philippa Gregory) and I got a gorgeous green zig-zag patterned vintage St. Michael skirt.

Claire and Gareth's gifts included a set of Claire's postcards, a vintage Cadbury Chocolate mug , now in daily use for my morning and evening tea, two bags of local made candy and a green vintage necklace and chunky ring. There were two cans of alcohol-free Guinness as well, but these were already consumed sitting outside on our little terrace at the cowshed.

Later, Claire also surprised me with a vintage Eastex dress and Carlottta Collection skirt. I've already worn the skirt in the meantime, so you'll be getting a much better look at it very soon.

After this one-in-a-million day, we drove back to the cottage in a daze. We spent the evening enjoying the resident wildlife - there were swallow nests aplenty and the area was simply inundated with rabbits - and watching the sun go down over the Long Mynd. Utter bliss!

Hope to see you soon for a catch-up on daily life and further episodes of the travelogue!