Manchester - old and new

Another weekend in Manchester - and more new places to discover.

First off, Salford Quays. I've heard a lot about this area (in fact people seem surprised that I've never been on previous visits to Manchester), so as our daughter was at a Maker's Market in the area, I wanted to have a look around - both outside, and then round the Lowry Gallery itself.









The old quays have completely gone, their warehouses replaced by funky new housing developments.

Even the bridges are futuristic! 

This is definitely one of Manchester's modern areas, but it's more brutal concrete than, say, the high-rise glass buildings of Spiningfields, and it's not a look which appeals to me.















Inside the Lowry was confusing and very busy with a national gymnastics competition taking place in part of the building, but someone was on hand to point us in the direction of the gallery. As you might guess, a lot of space is given over to the paintings of LS Lowry. Oddly I found myself more attracted to his later works, scenes of industrial desolation, rather than the better known 'matchstalk men' paintings. The temporary exhibition - The State of Us - proved to be uncomfortable for both of us; very low level lighting plus flash of light and random noises from the displays played havoc with my sight and hearing, so we didn't stay long.




We'd stayed, as we often do, in an Air BnB and accidentally discovered that we were just a few hundred yards from  Ordsall Hall.












Once a manor house in the middle of fields and orchards, it's now an odd oasis of Tudor charm surrounded by modern houses and factories. This was much more my kind of thing!

Inside the rooms have been recreated much as they would have been in Tudor times - beds with hangings, a curtained bath, and (imitation) food waiting to be prepared in the kitchen.

















Outside there's a Tudor knot garden, an allotment demonstrating how the land was used during WW1, and a moat, usually dry under the wings of these wooden swans, but not last weekend.

It's that odd juxtaposition of old and new that always startles me in Manchester though.

Onward, on our way home, on the other side of Manchester, lies Lyme (famous for the Mr Darcy swimming exploits of the BBC/Colin Firth series of Pride and Prejudice) 

I didn't spot Mr D, not even when looking through this hidden peep-hole, or walking by the lake, but the house was fascinating - more elaborate and richly decorated than the severe straight lines of its exterior might lead you to expect.

It's now owned by the National Trust, and visitors encouraged to almost feel at home - to play the piano in the entrance hall, or billiards in the Long Gallery, or sit and read in the library. It's a large house though, with lots to explore and if we'd attempted any of them we'd probably never have got home.







As it was, we only had time for a brief look at the gardens before heading off. I'll be back in better weather to see more.

Not Going Far

 I follow a lot of social media accounts belonging to people who spend every weekend nipping up mountains, or enjoying a rather long walk along a long-distance footpath. They're all younger and more energetic than I am. My adventures are always on the small side by comparison, but really it isn't necessary to travel miles or slog through mud to enjoy the outdoors.

Last week I was babysitting my grandson, and we went out for a stroll to see the ducks at the local pond. It's hardly a ten minute walk but he fell asleep in his buggy almost immediately. I still got to discover this delightful little spot though.











It's 'hidden' just off the main access road into the Compton Acres estate in West Bridgford, and is almost surrounded by housing, but sitting on one of the convenient seats it feels like being out in the countryside.




 No swans here but there are ducks, coots, and canada geese swimming happily around, pigeons perching in the trees looking somehow more exotic than they ought to, and daffodils waiting to burst into flower on the banks.
It proves my theory that it isn't hard to incorporate a little 'outdoors' into everyday life. I feel that this kind of mini-escape is as important for us as a full day out in the countryside, and if I lived nearer I'd visit all the time.

And, to prove the accessibility of beauty where-ever you happen to be - here's the sunset on our way home that evening, seen from (the passenger seat of) the car, heading west on the A453 with Ratcliffe on Soar power station in the distance.

No New Clothes

I'm not getting on very well (or at all) with this year's resolutions, so it probably doesn't seem like sense to go adding an extra one, BUT this one sort of targets several good intentions in one go - getting thin, de-cluttering, getting creative, wearing brighter clothes. Put briefly - no new clothes.


I've seen a lot on the web recently about people who decided for sound ecological, environmental reasons to go for a year without buying any new clothes. My first thought was it was a bit of a gimmicky 'jump on a bandwagon' idea, with no relevance to me. After all, I don't buy throw away fashion, my clothes are of mostly a quality that will last for ages (apart from last winter's coat which wore out in four months! So, not shopping there again), and to be honest if none of us EVER bought new clothes the whole industry would fold.
Then I began to think I could apply it what I'd like to achieve this year.
Getting thinner - at first I thought that as an incentive I'd buy no new clothes till I'd lost some weight, then I realised I won't actually have to buy anything, that I have a whole wardrobe full of items that used to fit way back when, like these two fabulous skirts from Boden. They're in good condition (if they weren't I wouldn't have hung on to them), and still more or less my style of dressing.

For the last few years my criteria for clothes shopping has been simple, practical and no effort in deciding what to wear with what - black/navy trousers, plain or striped dark go-with-anything tops; a lazy, no thought required wardrobe, which suddenly seems so dull. One of my resolutions was to kick this habit, and go back to the more colourful clothes I used to wear (again see the skirts above in contrast to a recent washing line of dullness). You're probaly starting to see now how all these intentions fit together - get thin, instantly have  bright cheerful clothes to wear, and clear the wardrobe.
If it works, it's win, win.
If the whole weight-loss idea doesn't happen miraculously overnight, I'll raid the stash of yarn, lengths of material, and old clothes saved for re-modelling, that fill up drawers and cupboards, and get creative. So more de-cluttering.

As for every rule, there'll be exceptions - underwear, shoes and possibly band merch tshirts (because they're as much about helping musicians as buying new clothes) - but otherwise nothing new! As a New Year resolution it has one head start - so far, two months into the year, I've bought nothing.

Hopton Hall - another snowdrop adventure

Hopton Hall's gardens are only open for two short periods of the year - now for snowdrops and in summer for the rose garden.

As my previous visit to the snowdrops was some while ago 

 some while ago   it seemed like time to check them out again, especially as last Wednesday offered such a wonderful sunny, though cool, day. 

The walk is about a mile in total, and leads past drifts of snowdrops then through the sleeping rose gardens and past a large pond before returning past the hall to the car park.

If there is a problem with snowdrop walks, it's the season, and the likelihood of getting cold. In summer it's nice to sit leisurely among flowers, admire their beauty, soak in the sun. This early in the year, you need to keep moving.














So we ambled on, following a bark and gravel path twisting back and forth through a small area of woodland carpeted with snowdrops.
















Out into the rose garden. Warmed by the sun and sheltered by an old crinkle-crankle wall, it was warm enough to sit for a minute or two and think of how it looks in summer, full of scent and colour. Right now though, it's still an attractive garden but in a very different way, with the serene but severe geometry of topiary.

From this point the garden descends in a series of terraces - one lined with statues of very chilly-looking Greek nymphs; warmer layers of clothing are called for in a Derbyshire winter!

At the lowest point is a large pond (or maybe a small lake).

The paths here were wetter after the torrential rain of weekend, but the bark chippings prevented a horrible muddy mess.

Upwards again, nearing the end of the walk, but still more snowdrops to be seen.  Even with lots of pausing to look here and admire something there it didn't take much over an hour, but it was now late afternoon, and gradually dropping colder, so time to head home.

Snow Day

We all expected the huge gales of last weekend, but I don't think anyone was prepared for snow on Monday. I certainly wasn't.














First thing in the morning there was lovely sunshine here in Derby, then rain, some light snow, hail which covered the patio, and finally real snow.




It didn't take long to cover the garden in a coat of white, though before long it had started to melt.

I'm hoping that's it for wintry weather, although there's another gale to batter us this weekend.

Some settled sunshine would be nice, with daffodils starting to flower and Spring on its way.