If I absolutely had to live in a city, which I would hate, I would probably choose Winchester. Ostensibly I went to visit the City Museum but I almost ran out of time before it closed.
The first distraction was the shop Crystals. I really did only intend to look having just recently visited Mystical Stones at Moss End Garden Village and did not intend to purchase anything and said as much when I entered. But this is addictive. And the background music was ‘Summer Morning Rain’ from The Duke and the King’s stellar album Nothing Gold Can Stay. I asked who had such impeccable taste. The lovely lady running the shop confessed that her own addiction meant serious incursions into her salary. My already weak resistance collapsed entirely.
I chose this amethyst because it is darker than most and for its imperfection. The white section is part of the matrix, the host rock.
These ammonites were too pretty to leave behind. The shop card said that they are from the Mahajanga Province, Madagascar, Middle Cretaceous/Albian period, between 100 and 113 million years old.
I sourced this bismuth from elsewhere. The photo does not really capture its fabulous iridescence.
Bismuth (Bi) is a naturally occurring element on the periodic table. Of all the metals it is among the least conductive electrically and thermally. It is slightly radioactive and much denser than lead. Compounds are used in cosmetics, pharmacy, pigments and other areas, Incans used it in alloys to make knives.
The next source of my downfall was Waterstones – a proper bookshop. Again, I did not intend to buy anything. As well as the bird book though (see Goldfinch, Chamois, a rescued Badger and Sachets of Sauce – Animal Wild), this appealed to my love of stationery and writing implements.
And then … how had my hero Richard Dawkins managed to sneak a book out without my knowing about it? It turns out that yesterday was the day of publication, the first day it was sent out for sale. The Gods were smiling on me it seems. not that Dawkins would approve of that notion. I can’t wait to read both of these.
Many of the illustrations in the above are by Ernst Haeckel (see The Abyss – Animal Wild).
I wandered down the main shopping drag through the lively market which I have enjoyed before – there are stalls selling some really unusual things. This large, quilted, thick cotton Indian bag is gorgeous and will be very useful.
This detail shows stylised Jasmine or Wild Lily blossoms. The stallholder said that he was from Jaipur. This type of block printing is typical of Rajasthan and dates back over 2,000 years.
Self-indulgently I had booked lunch at the Chesil Rectory. There is nothing much duller than other people’s dining experiences, but here goes anyway. The timber-framed building is fifteenth-century and inside is a civilised oasis of quiet and calm. For a couple of hours the rest of the world disappeared and the service was charming and impeccable. I had two starters – Wild Mushroom & Truffle Puff Pastry Tartlet, Baby Spinach, Pickled Walnuts, and Tempura Monkfish, Shellfish Bisque, Homemade Tartare, Lemon. All beautifully presented and cooked. The bisque was so delicious I would happily have drunk a mug of it.
I e-mailed them afterwards to say how much I enjoyed it and to ask a couple of questions. Their reply was gracious (they were “overjoyed” to hear it) and let me know that the Slovenian white wine which matched the food so perfectly was ‘Rebula’ by Edi Simcic and that the coffee was by Mozzo, specifically their light roast blend. I will be seeking them both out.
Finally it was time for the museum, but not before I could hardly fail to notice this, nosing through the cobbled backstreets before roaring off unnecessarily loudly. I was a bit slow to take the picture.
It’s a a Lamborghini Huracán. Incongruous or not, what a car.
Local museums can be funny places. Sometimes it feels as though everything has just been thrown into the mix and there can be some strange bedfellows. I am a Philistine about such things but I do find it hard to get excited about broken pots, arrowheads and the like, no matter how old. The scale model of the city is fantastic though.
I also liked this recreation of a tobacconist’s shop window.
This, however, seemed like an example of throwing everything into the mix. It wasn’t a functioning sign, it was an exhibit. Charmingly eccentric I suppose but perhaps not everything is ‘heritage’.
In the very same room in a glass case was an autograph manuscript poem by Jane Austen. It’s short and a piece of light verse but typically of these museums there seemed to very little security for a such a very high value object. For that reason and as a dealer in books and manuscripts my instinct was to question its authenticity but apparently it came directly from the Austen family (not in itself a guarantee) and they also display a couple of her tiny purses and a personalised ivory spool case. I do hope they have good insurance.
The mosaics lining the stairs to the third floor are impressive.
This floor was excavated from under a metre of soil and rubble from the main villa at Sparsholt. The only damage is from a tree root.
There is a lot and a lot more to see in Venta Belgarum as Winchester was known in Roman times.
I spent at least half an hour before I left trying to find my car in the multi-storey. It has not occurred to me that two street entrances might be on two different levels and that I was on the wrong one.
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