MISS ELAINEOUS VISITS THE WALPOLE BAY HOTEL...

I've been to the Walpole Bay Hotel and Museum before, so I decided to pop in for afternoon tea during my recent day trip to Margate, on my birthday.

We were very lucky as the owner of the hotel- a great British eccentric named Jane Bishop- was giving a very interesting talk about the history of the hotel, and her part in the restoration of it, to a group of old dears in the dining room just as we were having our tea.  It's good that someone with no background in hotel management but a hell of a lot of passion has made a go of this business.  It just goes to show that it's what's in the heart that counts, and just what drive and determination can do.

Our "Strawberry Tea" was lovely...

Here's SuperDean trying to be elegant...  Not a great photo as he's very much in silhouette.

The dining room.

The veranda.  This is a PDF as my picture didn't come out well.

Walking into this Art Deco hotel is like walking into an Agatha Christie script.  The museum is not a room as such, but housed in unused sections of this working hotel.  If you like oddities and eccentricities and an olde worlde atmosphere, then this is the ideal hotel for you.  We also got to see inside some of the rooms and they were lovely, with really personal touches.

But if you like modern style hotels in what is considered to be 'good taste' (please, I am just not interested in 'tasteful'); neutral colours and clean, sleek lines (how infernally boring) then maybe this place is not for you. 

Here is the entrance foyer with its trellis door lift.  My block of flats in Hammersmith had one of these lifts so I am very familiar with them!

Here are a couple of fashion pics in the bridal suite.  To me, they kind of summed up the shabby (in the nicest sense of the word) chic of the hotel.

Fashion dummies in the corridor.

Dressing up cupboard.

Gloves displayed behind a glass wall hanging.

This mad hat room is madder than a hatter!

Vanity mirrors like those our grandmothers owned.

The shoe room.  It HURT to leave the pink shoes behind...especially as they were my size.  My heart bleeds!

Teddy bears on display.

This room contained typewriters and sewing machines.  Many people have donated curios to the museum.

If you're like me and love the unusual then you will certainly want to have a nose around this hotel.  

Yes, it's junk, but it's interesting junk!

The beautiful ballroom in the basement. 

The atmospheric lounge next to the ballroom.  This photo is very dark- I didn't have enough battery power to turn the flash on!  You do get a sense of louche decadence, though.

A PDF of the billiard room next to that.  I love the Art Deco mirror- the whole hotel is a real nostalgia trip and takes you back in time to yesteryear.

Here's a weird selfie of me photographing a naked lady in one of the cabinets in the foyer.  I've said this before but I always seem to be wearing this pink get-up whenever I'm in a photo.  I'm sure you all think that I own only one set of clothes!

It has been said that the collection here needs "sorting out."  Yep, maybe it does, but only a tweak here and there.  I wouldn't want it to look too neat as I think that would take too much away from its charm.

There is also a napery display- where guests have drawn on linen napkins and given then back to be framed and put on the walls.  These didn't interest me that much, although if I ever stay at the hotel I want to be given a napkin to draw on- and I want it displayed! 

Here's local girl Tracey Emin's napkin, showing her portrait of the hotel owner.  I'm not quite sure whether she should be flattered by this or not!

This is the view of the back of the theatre, taken as we walked away from the hotel and back to Margate beach.

 All in all, 'twas a lovely day, filled with big smiles!!!!

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THE JEWELLER'S WIFE by JUDITH LENNOX

THE JEWELLER'S WIFE

BY JUDITH LENNOX

THE BLURB:-

1938. As England awaits the outbreak of war, Juliet Winterton journeys from the Mediterranean to the Essex countryside to begin her life as the beautiful young wife of a London jeweller.

But beneath her husband's intelligence and ambition, lies a cruel and ruthless man. And when dashing politician Gillis Sinclair comes to stay at Marsh Court, Juliet is drawn to his irresistible charm.

So begins a passionate affair that will have consequences far beyond anything Juliet imagines. For Gillis Sinclair is hiding a dark secret and, as the Winterton children grow up, Juliet fears that they, too, will be tainted by the past...

THE REALITY:-

I've read all of Judith Lennox's novels, apart from the first four- and that's only because they're almost impossible to get hold of in anything other than electronic form, and I don't own an e-reader. The only book I really struggled with was All My Sisters: I looked forward to its release, but then put it down almost immediately as there were so many characters introduced during the first few pages that the storyline got confusing and difficult to focus on. I didn't pick it up again until 5 years later. It turned out to be a good read and I got into Ms. Lennox's novels once again.

This book, for me, started off similarly uninspiring, and it wasn't until I was well past the first 100 pages that I started to feel bored no longer. I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the younger generation and their time in “Swinging Sixties” London but there were so many of these characters that this book, too, became confusing. Even though I raced to the end (which I'm glad was happy, especially for Juliet, who deserved it) I re-read the novel and gave it more of a chance. I'm glad I did as I felt I rushed it the first time. I also found the family tree, at the beginning of the book helped with pinpointing who's who (duh!)

In the middle of the first read, I went to Southend for the day and, coincidentally, looked at a map of the Essex area whilst I visited their RNLI station. I pinpointed West Mersea, Maldon and the islands of the Blackwater estuary, where this book is set, and was glad to do so, as it got the geography of the area straight in my head. Like Freya, in the novel, I too could easily become obsessed with causeways- such strange places between land and sea. I'm glad that train stations close to my home were mentioned- Ilford, Manor Park, Stratford, etc. as it made me feel “in” the story!

It was quite obvious that Freya was the long-lost daughter, and also very apparent that she was alive. This author has used the notion of a person considered drowned when they're really alive before. I suppose that, if you've written as many meaty novels as Judith Lennox has, then the same ideas will flow through more than once. With very good characters and a (mostly) pulsing storyline this made for a compulsive read which was emotional in parts. I loved our flawed heroine, Juliet. When she put up with Henry's treatment of her you wanted to shake her; when she treated Joe so nastily you wanted to shake her more! This story managed to arouse some emotion in me, and it was also nice to be taken to places outside of London (Essex and the Orkney's) with clever descriptives. My favourite parts were always about the causeway, the mysterious cottage and Frances and her twin children.

A good read- just don't rush it, and study the family tree!

MISS ELAINEOUS VISITS THE MUSEUM OF BRANDS, PACKAGING AND ADVERTISING...

The Museum of Brands, Packaging and Advertising is tucked away in Ladbroke Grove, West London, and made for a happy couple of hours behaving like a tourist!

We started our day with a meander down Portobello Road, which was quite pleasantly quiet- it was possibly too hot to have to put up with too much hustle and bustle.

The museum looked very Art Deco from the outside...

Inside, it houses a cornucopia of objects.  I especially loved the "time tunnel" which shows consumer culture from the Victorian times to the present day.  From groceries to household appliances, propaganda, magazines and toys, this is a real trip down nostalgia alley.

The pictures from inside the museum are PDFs as I believe that photography was disallowed.

I especially loved the Spice Girls Baywatch jigsaw!  Both the girls and the programme were really big commercial successes in the 1990s.

The central exhibition space (which you can also hire for events) was very Andy Warhol-esque, with its lines of products displayed in chronological order.

Harks from the past...

These are my photos, and the real gem was the peaceful cafe garden.  It's one of those hidden delights you wouldn't know existed unless you were looking for it. 

Here's a pensive SuperDean nibbling on his Danish pastry.

And here's a happy SuperDean...

Ok, I admit it.... I'm ghoulish and a touch macabre....

I've stood where John Lennon was shot...

I've stood where Gianni Versace was shot...

I've stood where Princess Grace's car came off the road in the South of France...

I would have stood by the thirteenth pillar down in the Pont d' Alma tunnel but, much as I loved Princess Diana, I have no wish to join her just yet, so I made do with a gawk from the side of the entrance.

I've been to the evocative Highgate Cemetary to gawp at the graves of the famous.

I've been to the Blind Beggar pub in Whitechapel, where Ronnie Kray shot George Cornell dead.

I've seen the bullet holes on the outside of the Magdala pub in Hampstead, where the last woman to be hung in Britain, Ruth Ellis, shot her abusive lover, David Blakely, dead.

I've been to the site of 10 Rillington Place, where infamous murderer John Christie killed his victims and stashed them in his house.

And I've seen the burnt-out obelisk of the Grenfell tower, horrifically gutted by fire so very recently.

I took Dean to see the latter two as they were in the area.  'You take me to the nicest places,' he said- a touch sarcastically! 
 The tributes to the tower victims outside the nearby church were really moving, though.

Grenfell Tower, to the left of the photo.

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MISS ELAINEOUS VISITS THE COW TOWER...

This wasn't a visit as such as there isn't really that much to visit- it was more a viewing.

Built in 1398-99, the Cow Tower was a purpose built defence tower; created to protect the north-eastern approach to the city against very real threats from the French, and also indigenous English rebels. 

It was a very rare structure in England during this time, and was specially designed to support the use of gunpowder artillery.

It is situated on the corner of a bend of the River Wensum, and the A147 road leading up to it from where we were staying made for a nice early evening walk.

The riverside walk, with my SuperDean getting into shot.

I love this charming house along the way.  It forms a bridge and is called Pulls Ferry, and dates back to the 15th century.  It's made of flint and was once a watergate.  The stone used to build Norwich Castle was routed through here.

Further down, you have to cross this bridge and turn right at The Red Lion pub on the other side if you want to view the Cow Tower closely.  Unless, of course, you fancy swimming across! 

The meadow the tower stands in was once called Cowholme, hence the tower's name...

The tower is 37ft (11.2 metres) across and 48 ft (14.6 metres) high.  The walls are 5 ft 11 in (1.8 metres) thick at the base, and consist of a flint core encased within brick...

A photo of the inside of the tower, taken through railings.  This is as close as I could get and the whole ruin is very atmospheric and a tad eerie...

Stairs inside the tower.  The tower is divided into three storeys and was probably well-furnished, with different floors used for eating and sleeping...

Repairs carried out in the 19th century inadvertently caused damage to the tower...

The Cow Tower is now managed by English Heritage...

We ended our walk with some food at Zak's Diner, which is painted a very eye-catching pink.

Here's the SuperDean raising his pint of Budweiser.

The restaurant was a very authentic American diner.  The building may have been pink but my theme for the evening must have been blue- I tucked into The Blue Vein, a gorgeous chargrilled burger with a generous helping of blue cheese sauce.  I accompanied this with a Bubblegum cocktail, which was also blue and garnished with real bubblegum balls!  We loved our meals and liked the fact that you were offered a choice of potatoes (chips, curly fries, a baked potato or normal potatoes) at no extra charge.  We opted for curly fries, being the kids we are!

We were seated right by the window and the diner lights reflecting on the water and the Cow Tower made for a wonderful view.  

We shall be returning.

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THE TEA ROSE by JENNIFER DONNELLY

THE TEA ROSE

BY JENNIFER DONNELLY

THE BLURB:-

Fiona Finnegan, the spirited, ambitious daughter of an Irish dock worker, longs to break free from the squalid alleys of Whitechapel. But her dreams fall apart with the sudden death of her father and the disappearance of her childhood love.

Fiona flees to New York where she builds a small grocery shop into a thriving tea house. But she cannot forget London. Convinced that her father was murdered, Fiona returns to the streets of her childhood to attempt to bring his killers to justice- and restore her family's good name.

Ranging from the bleak East End to the burgeoning businesses of Victorian London, to New York's immigrant district and glossy Fifth Avenue lifestyles, The Tea Rose is a heartwarming story of family, fortune, tragedy and tea.

THE REALITY:-

This was the kind of novel that I fall over myself to read- a tome and-a-half, set in my hometown of London (well, a lot of it was!) and a real rags to riches, gritty story of success and triumph in the face of adversity. That's what I want for myself, too. Conceited? Maybe. Realistic? Maybe not. But one can live in hope, because without hope you have nothing. I have the talent and, I like to think, the application to be successful. I truly believe that it will happen. So far, luck has eluded me and it's always nice to have a little recognition each step of the way, for motivational purposes. This hasn't yet happened, but I'm confident that it will.  

Enough of my hopes for the future!  Hope is a big theme in the early parts of The Tea Rose. This novel has stayed in my collection for 14 years because it really touched me. But now, I've acknowledged the fact that it has to go as it's looking too well-read and tattered. So bedraggled that it's going into the recycling bin as opposed to the charity bag.

This book is a real masterpiece and I'm surprised that it hasn't become a worldwide blockbuster. It has it all- fantastic characters with real hearts and faults, well-known locations, a historical sense of time and place and little stories within the mainframe. This book is long and richly detailed: in my mind, just as a novel should be. We really feel for the main character, Fiona. When she's in love, we love too. When her heart is broken, we break with her. And, when her family are almost wiped out we urge her to put one foot in front of the other and gradually pick herself up. She does that, but the way in which she does is dangerous and we pick up on the sense of urgency as she tries to flee her antagonist. This she does physically, but mentally he's always there, and this need for revenge spurs her on and forms the basis for the story.

Apart from Fiona, I also loved Nick and his quirks and found some of Seamie's proclamations and antics hilarious. So inspired was I by this novel that I took myself off to find the Prospect of Whitby and the Town of Ramsgate, situated on the north bank of the Thames. I spent my 35^th birthday drinking in these two establishments (it was a very hot day and I also got sunstroke, but that's another story!) and made time to soak up the atmosphere whist sitting on the old stairs. Read the book and you'll find out what they are, and why they're significant.

The author has certainly done her research with regards to the tea business and London industrial life in the late 1800s, and I like the fact that Jack the Ripper is also a significant part of the novel, marrying reality with fiction. There are twists and turns and interesting outcomings and also a happy ending.

Two more novels have been written in this series and I'm actually loathe to read them as I've yet to find a sequel as good as the original, and they don't sound as good. But I fear that temptation will get the better of me. I'm yet to compile my favourite ten, or even five, good reads of all time. But when I do, The Tea Rose will definitely be on it. Farewell, special novel.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR A HEATWAVE by MAGGIE O' FARRELL

INSTRUCTIONS FOR A HEATWAVE

BY MAGGIE O'FARRELL

THE BLURB:-

It's July 1976 and London is in the grips of a heatwave. It hasn't rained for months, the gardens are filled with aphids, water comes from a standpipe, and Robert Riordan tells his wife Gretta that he's going round the corner to buy a newspaper. He doesn't come back.

The search for Robert brings Gretta's children- two estranged sisters and a brother on the brink of divorce- back home, each with different ideas as to where their father may have gone. None of them suspects that their mother might have an explanation that even now she cannot share.

THE REALITY:-

Maggie O' Farrell's novels are very easy to read. They tend not to be overly long (this one was 324 pages) and the character observation absolutely brilliant, so it's very easy to get into her work. This one was no exception, but I though the title was pretty lame and uninspiring.  But, get beyond that and you're in for a pleasant ride!

I was the author's age in 1976 (I turned five in the July) and remember this legendary summer being hot, but no hotter than other summers, or so it seemed. During the 1970s we got what I call 'proper' weather; scorching summers and the presence of autumn indicated by foggy mornings and masses of daddy long legs swarming and sticking to windows, winters with knee-deep snow and broken down oil tankers at school and finally, spring entering like a promising, wet yet mild rumba. The only concession to water shortage that I can recall was my mother watering the plants with the mucky dishwater. Enough of my meanderings: what I'm trying to say was that it was easy for me to place myself into the period of the novel. This was an era where Aoife's dyslexia unfortunately resulted in her being labelled weird; so, so, sad, given the recognition we give to the condition nowadays. This was a time when, ten years previously, Michael Francis had to marry his pregnant girlfriend and a time when Monica, a couple of years before, had self-aborted her child.

The characters in this book are incredibly well described, through not just their appearances but their speech patterns and foibles. The author certainly did her research as to how Aoife's condition presents itself and the details are immense.  I liked that the family were Irish Catholics as my partner is from this background and some of the traits within his family echo themselves in Gretta's. The novelist has a great empathy with all of the five senses, manipulating prose so perfectly that you can imagine yourself right there in the book. London, New York and Ireland are well depicted and I also enjoyed looking at her inspirational Connemara photographs.  The author's grasp of the English language is very good, so much so that I managed to learn some new words during the course of the novel, and I am always pleased when this happens.

I loved the fact that the main subject matter- Gretta- turned out not to be much of a heroine and was a very real human being with faults such as hypocrisy and being liberal with the truth. I'm afraid that, in my experience, her generation were so often flawed in this way.

The book is not without fault. I would have loved to have read about Monica self-aborting her baby, such as how she did it and did Gretta really spill the beans to Joe? Details, please! Monica's relationship with her step-brats also could have been explored a little bit more. Also, I don't think the book reaches a satisfactory conclusion. We need to meet up with Robert again, and hear his explanation. But, give this tale a go. You will certainly find yourself living within the pages of this novel.