I am Norfolk! Or a Good Weekend, Part II

The future Dr Who as Thomas Howard, 4th Duke of Norfolk

Part II of my weekend of away days on the train was to Arundel Castle in Sussex. I won't give you a potted history of the place. Suffice to say, the 4th Duke gained Arundel Castle (and the Earldom) when he married Mary FitzAlan (daughter of the last Earl of Arundel). I wasn't there because I'm into castles (give me geometric, gunpowder era artillery fortification any day) or even primarily because there was a siege there in 1643. Though that was a bonus. No the reason was to accompany my beloved Margravina and keen gardener. A few weeks ago she mentioned Arundel Castle's Tulip Festival and would I like to go with her. Talk about killing two birds with one stone.

Tickets were booked and off we set on Sunday morning. Although not nearly as far as Weymouth, the journey took nearly as long. Up to Waterloo, walk across to Waterloo East and from there to London Bridge station where we had a lengthy wait. London Bridge has changed enormously since the last time I used the station. It looks splendid. The main concourse makes judicious use of wood panelling on the underside of the lines overheard. The concourse is underneath the platforms. In the old days a few platforms where on a viaduct but now it looks all of them have been raised to that level, creating the space underneath. The only downside was I couldn't spot one sign for the loos. Back to a theme from Saturday.

The journey from London Bridge down to Arundel was a pretty slow but interesting journey. If you have an interest in suburban development (I do). For those of a more rural disposition, the journey gets more interesting south of Horsham, especially when the line reaches the Arun valley. A lovely part of SE England.

On arrival at Arundel around 12:00 we found a cafe for a quick lunch (spotting a lido along the way) before heading to the castle. I was blown away by the gardens. I'm not a horticulturalist, but can appreciate a nice plant. I'll let the pictures tell the story.

The Margravina admires the walls

This, and.....

...this whole structure are carved out of wood. The weathering of the wood helps create the impression of stone.

At this point I was feeling this was up there with the Alhambra in Granada.  You can see how  the blocks of wood on the right have carved surfaces to create the impression of stone

This is apparently a 'stumpery'. I never knew it was a thing. But it is now on the list of things I like.

Clever Victorian engineering

I love the housing on this standpipe

Hedgehog house

The underside of the thatched roof

I guessed this was a cork

Think this was the medieval keep. The motte is very steep, and must have been  virtually impossible to climb in heavy armour.

A guide told me this gun barrel was captured at Sevastopol. It looks like a large calibre (24 pounder?) but with a relatively short barrel

The important facilities. Kept nice and clean I was please to note.

This is what you came for!

Added bonus! The figures looked like 28mm.

The diorama seemed to show a sally in support of a supply convoy arriving

Arty photo didn't quite work

Any ideas?

View from the train

Castle and town seen from the train

View from the bridge over the Arun on route from the station

There was one further unexpected added bonus. A dressing up box. And what is more, some of the clothes fit grown 'men'. The Margravina has some evidence. Not posted here. I thought I'd struck a very dignified pose until I noticed I'd got the white colour thing tucked in on one side.

The journey back home was going swimmingly until we reached East Croydon. This isn't a comment on that particular suburb. It's just that the train was delayed and we missed our connection. The route planner had told us to change at Croydon, then go up to Streatham (St. Reatham if you're an estate agent), then change for Wimbledon, before finally changing for Neu Maldheim. Our plans were awry at that point, but the Transport for London app advised a bus route from there. That sounds like a long journey, if you know South London, but it went very swiftly. Once we found the bus stop outside the station. I'm blaming poor signage. There's an 'express' bus route that goes from East Croydon station to Heathrow, that stopped at one end of our local Hochstraße. A quick walk, back to the car via the small Tesco and I still had time for a bite to eat before my 6 PM remote game with Jonathan Freitag. It was an excellent way to round of a great weekend. But that's another story.

The day was bright and sunny.....

 ...but the game I won't relay.

Lincolnshire Tom and I hummed and ahed about how we were going to get to the Grimsby game at Weymouth. Drive 2 1/2 hours each way, or take the train at 3 1/4 hours each way and nearly twice the cost? Well the answer was train of course. I'd like to say the decision was driven by concern for our carbon footprint, or by our desire to cut the income of autocrats who invade their neighbours. In reality it was because it was more relaxing that way and neither of us needed to be Designated Driver.

Not far from the station. Looking east towards Lulworth and the Isle of Purbeck

And we were mighty glad we did. There was quite a lot to see and talk about en route. We were on a geek fest. Two old geezers with interests in WWII, transportation, football (Tom) and military history generally, and football (me). Too busy geeking to take photos. Anyone foolish enough to listen in would have quickly got bored. Going past Brooklands (home of the old motor racing track, and now to a transport museum) we spotted Concorde. Winchester (the Rifles' museum). Southampton Airport Parkway (home of the original Spitfire factory) and nearby Eastleigh (Eastleigh Football Club - and location our last game of the regular season). Southampton docks with a staggeringly huge container ship. St Mary's Stadium (Southampton FC). By the time we got to Southampton we'd decided the Sun was over the yardarm. 

Then through the New Forest and on to Bournemouth station with its impressive glass canopy. The train split here - one part heading on to Weymouth, the other part going to .....well to be honest I didn't care. Out of Bournemouth and into Poole and around the enormous natural harbour. Thoughts of Overlord, already appearing from Winchester onwards, were taking over. Not forgotting Baden-Powell of course, with the first Scout camp on Brownsea Island. Wareham ("change here for the steam railway to Swanage via Corfe Castle". ECW siege). Wool. No need to remind you which museum is nearby. South of here lies the Army firing ranges. Dorchester South: no, neither of us knows any Hardy, but just around from there you pass Maiden Castle (Iron Age hill fort). Then the final run in to Weymouth. Lovely, fresh sea air.

Time for lunch. Stopped off at the first fish and chip shop we cam across. Always risky. Not always. Not this time. Very good, nice, white, flaky fish. Even if it was cod. It's GOT to be haddock in Grimsby & Cleethorpes. That is a tenet of faith, and one that has held true for generations. Not for nothing does the haddock bear St Peter's thumbprint. But this was cod and it was more than acceptable. Fish and chips, eaten outside on the prom, can't be beaten. Right, lunch over and thoughts turned to cold beverages. The advance party, had arrived the night before and the Globe was reported as being a welcoming hostelry with more than acceptable drinks. And they weren't wrong. Very helpful landlord, nice beer (Aethel Sword), chilled music playing on the wireless, and (sign of my age coming) nice clean toilets.

Along the route were some reminders of why we have such freedoms now.

Panel commemorating the staggering logistics involved in just one part of Overlord

Memorial to the US Army Rangers and their Royal Navy comrades 

Lest we forget.

Sadly it was soon time to head off to the match. A hike of a couple of miles must have walked off that beer. But it was pleasant walk for much of the route.

One of the compensations for your football club being relegated to the fifth tier of English football...

.....is that you get to walk past places like this

The game itself was mostly dull. Grimsby were clearly the superior team, but didn't make it count. Too slow to get the ball forward quickly. It was played at a pace not far removed from a pre-season friendly. A few nearly moments. And we almost paid the price for not taking advantage of our limited chances. Weymouth's defence were very well organised and we didn't really penetrate them. 0-0. Still other results were mostly in our favour, so the play offs are still possible. Who knows. But after the previous week's demolition of 3rd placed Chesterfield, a massive underachievement. Expectations suitably back under control.

Back in town, there was time for a few more beverages. The second pub we went in already had karaoke on the go. At 6PM! These people must start early. Again, a good Mein Host and friendly atmosphere. The journey back to the metropolis seemed to last for ever, with me getting hungrier and hungrier. Met another Grimsby exile heading back to the station just one stop up the line from us. Small world. That's the Grimsby diaspora for you. For 40 odd years, job prospects have not been good there. I guess, also, that there is a touch of wanderlust in the veins. Most of the population during the rapid growth in the 19th and early 20th centuries came from other places. It wasn't so far back that most people's family had moved for work. The reverse has been happening for 4 decades. Consequently, you are never far from a Grimsby fan.

At this level the match officials are more like the officials of old. 

Daily reality of war

Now then. This song has got helpful side-by-side translations. It sounds like a straight militaristic song, with a jaunty tune, revelling in the imagined glories of war. But when you read the words you can see it’s about the grim reality. There are enough sarcastic, and bitter lines in there to make me believe it was written by someone who knew from first hand what he was talking about. It fits well within the cultural reference points of Unknown Soldier (Tuntematon Sotilas).

What really gets me is the line about the horses being so hungry they try to eat the stable walls.

https://youtu.be/-W9m1bLbKjg

This sort of thing is in the back of my mind when I think of the Continuation War, and forms the backstory to my (rare) games in the period.