Thursday, October 4, 2018

The Motors and Majesty of Beaulieu

On my last full day Mum suggested we visit Beaulieu. I had come here once before as a child but couldn't recall much. I don't think vintage vehicles really held my interest in my youth, but today I was keen to visit.
We passed a gorgeous gatehouse designed by the famous Alfred Waterhouse. An extravagant 19th century French Renaissance chateau-style gatehouse, built of mainly brick, with an elaborate coat of arms carved above the arch. We then had to stop as a family pulled out on their horse and cart, likely going down the pub, and we drove very slowly past some horses possibly going to the same pub and some cows resting on the verge, likely on their way back from the pub.
Arriving at Beaulieu, I was amazed at how large the park was. There was so much to see but we knew we hadn't time to see everything so we opted for the car museum and then the Palace House. But first I had to catch a quick glimpse at the vehicles featured on TV and movies.
Del boy's Reliant Robin van from Only Fools and Horses with Mr Bean's Mini at the top and then a couple of vehicles from Top Gear. Clarkson's Fiat Panda from The Limousine Challenge was here so Mum struck a pose. The Reliant Robin space shuttle event was one of the funniest episodes ever from the show so it was incredible to see it up close. This vehicle was chosen because of its 'rockety' shape and the whole ensemble was put together at the "Glossop Space Centre (which was cunningly disguised as a shabby industrial unit next to a council estate.)" This model is the one that didn't go up as everyone who saw the show knows what happened to the first. Top Gear wanted to try again but have had to halt further attempts due to "lack of government funding and a stiff warning from the police." A short version of the episode is here.
We then entered the Motor Museum itself, a vast building housing about 250 of the most historically important vehicles as well as one of the finest collections of motoring books, photos and automobilia in the world. It was hard to know where to start so we just walked, and walked and walked, our eyes popping at the gleaming chrome and bodywork of these magnificent automobiles. I took so many photos, it was nearly impossible to select a few to post here, so I chose the most beautiful. The bonnet mascot above is one of 2 surviving out of 3 or 4 made, called The Whisperer. Sculpted by Charles Sykes from Lord Montague's secretary, Miss Eleanor Thornton, who was also believed to have been the model for the more famous Spirit of Ecstasy seen on Rolls Royces.
I had to take a photo of this, a Ford Capri MKI. I had 5 different models of these while living in England, I loved them so much, and once when I came home in a newer model after an absence of owning a Capri, my friend looked at me in the driving seat and said, "Deb, you've come home." It had certainly felt like it, I was so glad to be behind the wheel of another Capri. I wish I had one now.
As a child I was always hopping on and off of these Routemaster buses. We could run and jump on and off while the bus was moving, an action certainly not allowed today. The bus had the familiar seat fabric and even the smell inside that I remembered. It was lovely to sit inside and let my mind wander down memory lane for a few minutes.
The museum had nostalgic areas featuring old petrol pumps and workshops, no expense spared and filled with so much detail. Note the sleeping cat on the chair and the rat to the left of him inside the shop. Walking around these exhibits really gave a sense of the times these scenes represented.
And then I saw this and stopped in my tracks. A humungous black beast, the newest Rolls Royce model called Black Badge Dawn. A mere snip at £310,000. I want. I must have. I stood and drooled. It was even accented in my favorite color.
We passed land record vehicles, including the Bluebird, a racing car advertising Silk Cut cigarettes, a Lego caravan and then left the museum after Mum stood wistfully gazing at a Morgan for a while. I think an old boyfriend had one.
We caught an old trolley bus that took us to the Palace House. I wanted to walk, not really a good idea with my painful hip, so I was a little annoyed that I couldn't. But the house was stunning. When Lord Montague inherited it, the whole building was in dire need of restoration and the only way to pay for the work was to open it to the public. And what an incredible home it is. Obviously only part of the structure was accessible, the family still live in the rest of it, but it's decorated and furnished lavishly.
The Gothic arches, detailed stained glass windows, stenciling, intricate carvings on the ceilings, walls and columns, as well as every window view looking onto beautiful gardens, ensured that every corner turned and every doorway entered made us gasp with pleasure at what we perceived. And yet despite being surrounded by such finery the house still felt like a home. The curators were dressed in period clothes and could answer any question we asked. We had spotted a lot of horse chestnut trees on the way to the house and asked if we could collect some conkers. "Oh absolutely!" was the reply. "They're fabulous for warding off spiders, you know!" Well it seemed everyone in England did know this interesting fact except for me, but rest assured I now have plenty of conkers in the corners of every room at Meadow House, and they do seem to work...
And so we left, me loaded up with a pretty biscuit tin and tea mug and sweets from the Victorian kitchen, and we spent a very happy 20 minutes or so filling up our pockets with conkers for Mum and her friends. My last photo was of a New Forest pony standing stock still by a road sign, until we realized he was actually hanging about waiting for his nearly invisible black buddy whose butt was sticking out of a hedge, maybe munching on blackberries, we couldn't tell.
 And I did manage to get a superb last dinner of fish and chips, accompanied with a mushy pea fritter. Heaven! As I drove to Heathrow early the next morning, I munched on mini pork pies. This is becoming a Last Breakfast ritual for me when I leave England. I had plenty of room on the plane and was able to stretch out as I watched my homeland shrink below me. And later, as the jet turned on its side and dove down through huge white fluffy clouds like exploded pillows, American residential estates appeared, blocks of identical buildings side by side like the plastic houses on a Monopoly board. I was back...

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