WARBLINGTON, BRIGHTON & COVENTRY

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Down a long country lane near the town of Emsworth in Hampshire is the Church of St Thomas a Becket, Warblington. Many tourists would pass by on their way to Portsmouth without giving Warblington a second thought but we made the decision to stop as in the grounds of the cemetery lies one of New Zealand’s most famous sons. The all too early death of Sir Peter Blake in 2001 left the nation mourning for a man who had given so much for yachting and sport in NZ. His feats stand as great moments in New Zealand sporting history – namely his win on Steinlager 2 in the 89/90 Whitbread race, leading the country in winning the America’s Cup in 1995 and circumnavigating the world in record time on board Enza with Robin Knox-Johnson in 1994. He was a man of the sea who in the years before his death began to give back in the environmental sphere with his work on Seamaster.

We had no actual idea where his grave was but we had an image of what it looked like and had read that it could be identified sometimes by a NZ flag fluttering in the wind. As we passed through the wrought iron gates we suddenly realised that the task to find him may not be that easy. We tried our best but after a fruitless search I finally encountered a lady walking a dog who knew exactly where it was – in fact she would walk me to it. And that is how we found ourselves standing in front of a large grave stone with the simple words inscribed:

Sir PETER BLAKE KBE

1948-2001

YACHTSMAN ADVENTURER

of NEW ZEALAND

and of EMSWORTH



Only hours before we had been cruising up the Solent, the scene of many of his sailing feats so it felt only right that we had made our way here to stand before him. We could visualise his shaggy blonde hair and his commanding frame and I guess we all could remember moments that conjured up feelings of pride. I thought back to those days in 1990 when I watched from the Lion Breweries tender as his ketch plied its way to the finish of the Whitbread and could see his oh so happy face as he received the accolades after finishing first. He had achieved a lifelong goal in winning the race. His gravestone is simple yet dignified with its top covered in NZ coins left there by other visitors. There was a Bank of NZ pen stuck into the ground, two kiwi dolls, an All Black flag and a pair of the famous red socks. I left a Poppy from ANZAC day. It seemed the right thing to acknowledge such a great New Zealander.

After leaving Warblington we made our way across to Brighton. It was to be our last leg of the journey with Mum and Dad. They were heading across to Colchester. So our farewells were made in a layby just before the A23 turnoff to London and just short of our destination. Our hotel was an easy walk to the famous Brighton Pier where we were to meet up with friends Rachel and Stuart and their children. Rachel and I have known each other since Ellesmere days but we had not seen them for ten years and as such had not met Freddie or Evie. On the pier Freddie was in his element (so was Stuart) and immediately challenged us to a game of Dolphin Derby – the greatest little money earner I have seen in a while. There are not many business plans that centre on a sideshow that involves getting your plastic dolphin to “swim” the fastest by rolling balls through holes. At a pound a turn, 18 racers, a quick turnaround, and a fairly cheap outlay on prizes this could be my future. My scheme may be rudimentary and my sums misguided but maybe Matt’s Dolphin Derby in Federation Square is a goer. My only concern is that a sideshow like this needs to be on a pier. I think the pier concept is brilliant and is so very English. In fact it may only be the English that can make areas like this work – and I mean that in the nicest possible way. With the wind blowing, the waves pounding, and the sea not swimmable an entertainment pier above is pretty cool. As Stuart said “it’s naff but I love it”. Freddie was also fortunate enough to make his long awaited debut on the log flume from which he arrived back suitably soaked. There is everything you need on the pier for a good day out; food, fruit machines and rides, even the fish that nibble your feet to get all the dead skin off, candy floss, donuts, and dodgems. It is also the mecca for stags and hens days/ nights. We must have seen ten different dos on the go – all dressed up including 15 ladies in “Where’s Wally’ costumes, which were fascinating to say the least.

Our walk back through the lanes of Brighton was very interesting. I had been to the city before but not done any of the lanes. They are quite bohemian in their style. There is a jewellery quarter along with many boutique fashion shops. All of the lanes meet up but it would be very easy to get lost so I am glad we were following locals. Perhaps the highlight of the walk was seeing the Royal Pavilion or Brighton Pavilion. Stuart and I felt it was a shame no one suggested to us that we could have had tea in the grounds. It would have been lovely to sit in the park with this backdrop. Although of a different architectural style the building reminded us of palaces we had seen in St Petersburg and it also had a similar history as it was built as a summer retreat for members of the royal family in the late 1700s. We will have to visit Brighton again as the interior of the building sounds even more grand.

I am glad that we made the effort to head across to Brighton. It was fantastic to see Rachel and Stuart and meet the kids. They made us feel most welcome and we did enjoy dinner at their lovely home near Hove with some excellent French wine (another bottle and we were on the verge of an Ironman entry) and a wonderful ‘tarte tartin’. Rachel has a busy few weeks coming up as she works on the London Olympics – we will watch with interest from afar as they unfold in August. Should be a great few weeks for the city and country once they start.

Waking to the noise of pigeons cooing was a new phenomenon after two weeks at sea. For thirty seconds I actually thought there was some fairly intense action happening in the hotel room next door. But after closer scrutiny it was confirmed as a pigeon – or maybe something really weird. Buts let’s go with a pigeon. The Old Ship Hotel had not been that bad although the chances of getting out in an emergency may be slim. The Blenheim Palace Maze was less of a maze and I was always thankful to find our room. I went down to reception at one point and spent the next 20 minutes somewhere on level one. Apparently it is the oldest hotel in Brighton and has retained much of its character. They can certainly do breakfasts, which we filled up on before making the jaunt to Coventry to meet up with Neil and Kate.

The actual trip up was completely uneventful so I will move onto the last two miles. Neil and Kate have a property within Packington Park, which is the ancestral home to the Earl of Aylesford. I am glad we did not arrive in the dark as I think we may never have found their home. Kate talked us through the lanes by ‘phone as the Satnav was having a paddy. It wanted us to go a completely different way including driving through a ford that was heavily flooded – Peugeots insurance may have been pushed on that one. It is the most stunning entrance and surroundings. There are deer wandering about, fishing ponds and you also pass the magnificent Grade II listed Packington Hall. You could be anywhere and apart from the very light hum of a nearby motorway it feels like you are.

Apart from catching up on news, and seeing Richard and Anna all grown up, the chance to meet up with Neil and Kate means one important thing. You get to sit in The Shed again. Neil’s Shed is like a security blanket for many of us. It has travelled the country with him since its opening in Ellesmere ten years ago, and now sits resplendent in their beautiful country garden. I had missed the Shed and all the camaraderie that goes with it. I had missed the subtle smell of leaked home brew, the bottle top collection, the singing of “Angels”, the signatures of all those who have entered, the old maps, the old posters and the many African souvenirs that line shelves and walls. I told Neil that through all the turmoil and world events seen over the last ten years the one consistency appears to have been the Shed; it was as if I had just walked out. Yes, it was a homecoming of sorts and the first beer inside was the best. It turned into a long afternoon and evening as we had to try Pimms, a new drink called Turbo Pimms (add Vodka), and several real ales. Now with the Shed comes another famous Price delicacy – namely paella in vast quantities all cooked in a large dish on the embers of the BBQ, and that is what Neil and I sorted out while Narelle and Kate put the world to right in the Shed. It was a great afternoon and evening and before we all slipped off to bed we attempted to burn off some of the ingested food and drink by walking up and around the Hall.

Going into Coventry the next day gave us the opportunity to see the school that Neil and Kate work at and also visit the famous Cathedral. Practically destroyed by the firestorm of bombs that the Germans dropped on the City during WW2 it now sits as a reminder of those fateful years. Its large spire still towers above the city but its interior and the roof have long gone. It is but a shell of building. It seemed an apt time to be visiting it after reading the arguments for and against the retaining of the original Christchurch Cathedral in some form. I hope that someone has made contact with the authorities in Coventry to seek some advice on how an issue like this should be approached. I do not see an easy solution but here is a city that endured much and has had to rebuild with a Cathedral still very much part of its daily life and skyline; the 1950s replacement Cathedral sits right alongside the shell of the original. I am actually amazed anything survived for future generations after reading of the amount of bombs that were dropped. It was on a size and scale deemed unfathomable at the time and the city was virtually wiped from the map.

Sitting alongside the old cathedral is the Guildhall built in the 1300s. What an amazing building. It housed the early administrative chambers for Coventry and was the first seat of local government. The rooms inside are a collection of halls, old treasury rooms complete with triple locked doors, a minstrels gallery, the armoury and council rooms. Thankfully it was practically untouched by the bombing but it has still been lovingly restored and coupled with the huge tapestries and extensive collection of paintings it is a place I could only recommend a visit to. The Bayley Lane area is the original part of town and is the only place in the city that you can view the medieval timber framed houses that date back to the 1500s. I am not sure what I knew what to expect in Coventry but I am so pleased we made the effort to visit and I feel we may have to visit again to do the museum area properly. It is a city that has rebuilt itself from the ground up and once you see past some of the dire modern architecture you see a city steeped in history and very proud to show it off. It was well worth the walk into town.

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