Cookham? Why Cookham…? Philosopher has always wanted to visit the Stanley Spencer Gallery there, so we decided on a break for a couple of nights. We certainly needed a break – with the terrible weather and me poorly we hadn’t left Hastings for weeks. We stayed at the quirky Inn on the Green in Cookham Dean, and as well as visiting the Gallery, spent time in Marlow. Apart from that, I think we’ve had just one sunny day – we enjoyed a walk in Bexhill. Went to a concert on Saturday night – managed the first half of the Hastings Phil and Choir wrestling with the Monteverdi Vespers. Public life continues to simultaneously bore, horrify and amuse – now both Mandy and Andy have been arrested, while over in the US, Trump’s troupe of corrupt villains continue their destructive regime unchecked.
Here’s a photo of Marlow Bridge, taken from the car as we crossed over into the town. More about that later. When we drove up to Cookham on Wednesday it was a grim day, absolutely freezing cold, dull and drizzly. The Inn on the Green was indeed a quirky place, probably more pub than boutique hotel as it was advertised. We had a huge, very comfortable room with a high beamed ceiling and a very efficient freestanding bath/shower. One snag, the room was right above the bar… fortunately on cold, wet February week nights, the bar was practically empty, and those in it disappeared about 9pm… Would not recommend at the weekend, or in the summer for anyone seeking peace and quiet. As you can see, in this picture on Booking.com it looks pleasantly ritzy, but in February – not so much. But they had a reasonable restaurant, it was warm and cosy, and the staff were wonderfully friendly and pleasant. It was OK, but we wouldn’t hurry to go back. Like so many places round the affluent home counties it looks like it had a show-biz connection, in this case with the manager of Iron Maiden…
No heavy metal music thumping round the place thank goodness. We went for a freezing walk round Cookham Dean, such as it is. Seemed to be all million pound plus homes scattered along barely made-up lanes, with people roaring up and down through the mud in huge SUVs. But they did have their own WI hall – see below. I can’t imagine the membership of that WI are short of a bob or two.
Next day we drove over to Cookham. The gallery was smaller than Philosopher expected, but we still enjoyed it. The major exhibit was Spencer’s massive unfinished painting ‘Christ preaching at Cookham Regatta’. Interesting to see his workiing methods via the unfinished bits, here is a detail from the painting.That’s Christ in the basket chair, apparently…
A few years ago the two of us went to see the Sandham Memorial Chapel in Hampshire, the walls of which are covered in murals by Spencer, commemorating WW1. Here’s a mention of it in this post – gosh, it was 2013… more than a few years… Both of us really like Spencer’s work, and personally I prefer his more domestic landscapes – here are two examples from the internet, both of Cookham. The top one is Cookham Dene…
Then, we drove on to Marlow. Battleaxe has history here. When I first moved to England with my parents we first lived at Radnage in Buckinghamshire, then Naphill, then near Watlington in Oxfordshire. Why so many places? That’s another story. Think rackety parents and lots of dogs… Anyway, for some reason Marlow was one of our favourite places to spend time, walking along the river, looking at the weir, going on boat trips, and even, on one occasion I can remember, swimming in the river with my sister. I remember the squidgy mud between my toes. Way back at the start of our relationship, Philosopher and I spent a night at the Compleat Angler. I scarcely remember a thing about it except for the noise of the weir keeping us awake.
These days, Marlow epitomises affluence. We went to a tearoom for coffee. It was totally, and I mean totally, full of high-gloss well-dressed women in the prime of life who clearly did not have to go to work…they were all talking so loudly we could scarcely hear ourselves think. Contrast that with a coffee we had this morning in Waterstones caff in Hastings. The demographic of the customers here could not have been more different. Mostly grey-haired pensioners, and a few mums with babies, plus a few individuals who plainly would not have been in the work-force. No well-dressed women in their prime at all. The well-to-do inhabitants of Marlow would regard Hastings as another world… somethiing totally alien. We walked up and down the main street goggling at estate agents windows and peering into expensive shops.
So, back in Hastings… here is Battleaxe on that one sunny day in Bexhill, and Philosopher in the Country Park on a much more typical morning.
I won’t say anything about the Monteverdi Vespers – sorry, Marcio da Silvo. It was a pissing wet night – quelle surprise. We went with friends Jan and Tom… they are not frequent concert-goers like us, and sadly, the production was not the Hastings Phil’s best. Marcio, I fear you over-reached yourself. Jan and I scuttled off at the interval and left the two men to it…
As ever, folks, please read ‘Death is a Desirable Property’. Here is the link. Do please leave a review – although plenty have been sold and downloaded there are only 14 reviews on Amazon at the time of writing this. To finish, here is a hopeful spring photo I did with AI.
