The bedrooms at Belton

It’s been a wee while since I shared details of my last visit to Belton where I saw their new exhibition, crafting a new narrative, and finally got to revisit the orangery, and I promised to share more from inside the house. So today let’s take a virtual wander around the bedrooms at Belton.

I didn’t remember these from our previous visit, and that’s because I hadn’t seen them. The whole of the upstairs was closed off as we visited soon after the Covid restrictions were starting to be lifted and understandably things were not able to go back to before’s normal straightaway.

The Blue Bedroom was originally designed as a family bedroom, but the information in the room said that the scale and quality of the bed implies it was not made for this room but for a more luxurious state bedroom. It was re-upholstered which covered an original crimson damask.

During the 2002 room’s restoration and conservation of the bed, it was decided to remain sympathetic to its clearly faded colours. The once bright blue silks were reproduced in this paler hue, with the wallpaper reproduced in keeping with the bed, which is why this blue bedroom is a bit paler, and not blue at first glance.

The Chinese Bedroom was one of my favourite rooms. The wallpaper was hand painted in China and intended for export. It’s pink background is now faded and the figures were stylish adaptations to appeal to European consumers. It was hung, unbelievably, in 1830 but probably made much earlier.

What always surprises me by these older wallpapers is how modern and relevant to today’s decor they are. While I’m not sure many of us would have hand painted wallpaper at such cost, or at such scale as here in Belton, but wouldn’t it be nice if we did?

The Queen’s Bedroom has a central position in the house, and was defined as the ‘Best Chamber’ in the 1688 inventory. It was the most lavishly furnished bedroom in the house at that time and would have been offered to only the most prestigious guests. Some of the fabrics have been replaced, but the braids, fringing and tassels are all original.

Another of my favourite rooms is the Boudoir, and while it may seem a strange inclusion here it was originally furnished as a bedroom but then entirely remodelled to create a dressing room for Lady Brownlow. The room has changed over the years, but some of James Wyatt’s design from 1776-7 remains, most noticably the ceiling and the cornice.

The ceiling is amazing and has so much detail, but directly underneath it is a beautiful rug. Isn’t it gorgeous?

The information in the room said that the National Trust have some of Wyatt’s original plans, many of which were never realised. One of those was his design for a carpet to mirror the ceiling, I’m sure that would have been as amazing, but I’m glad it didn’t happen!

Just as we were about to leave the room I spotted these fabulous elephant book ends, now they would definitely be welcome in my house, even more so than the rug.

It was great to see the bedrooms, and I’m sure we’ll be back to see more of the house at some point. Like many places, I think the more you go to a place, the more you get the feeling for it and the more you see, and I know there’s so many more layers to discover and explore.

Exploring the Vieste coast on foot

It’s been a while since I shared some of where we visited on our trip to Italy’s Gargano Peninsular last year - I know a whole year already! - so I thought it’s about time I shared more. On our first day’s walking we headed along the Vieste coast on a walk that was billed as following ‘the low-lying shoreline for virtually all of its route’. And it was mostly flat, though some walking and in places scrambling across rocks didn’t help my tender ankle, which I’d somehow turned walking on flat ground through the airport somewhere! But it wasn’t until much later in the day that I realised this.

Our walk started by going across the car park at the marina, which is not quite the auspicious start you imagine is it?! But as we headed towards the jetty the view improved, and I was happily snapping the flowering succulents.

It wasn’t long before we got our first view of the beach, and what a beach. Sadly though we had most of a 10.7km and four hour walk ahead of us, so no time to stop.

At the end of the beach we joined the narrow path just to the right of the wooden balustrades and followed that around the coastline. Then we got our first view of a Trabucchi, or more precisely the Trabucco San Lorenzo.

TRABUCCO SAN LORENZO

Trabucchi are widespread along this stretch of coast - and our walk would take us up close to three of them. They are fantastic constructions made with Aleppo Pine which is very resistant to salt water. This local tradition dates back to the Phoenicians and consists of wooden poles in the rocks which hold a very large fishing net in the clear coastal waters.

After a brief stop, we were on our way and then we paused and looked back to where we came from - I think this view trumps that of the beach at the start of the walk.

LOOKING BACK TO TRABUCCO SAN LORENZO

The views ahead of us though were equally spectacular, especially as we walked through this pined section.

At the next sandy bay our route took a turn upwards, and the plants changed too - a particularly dog-earred prickly pear caught my eye.

And with a bit of here and there-ing, and a walk along the road and climbing over the crash barrier the next trabucchi, the Trabucco Punta Lungo, was in sight, looking very similar to the one we’d already passed - but no less amazing.

TRABUCCO PUNTA LUNGO

Again we paused to admire the view, and look to see where we’d been, and where we were heading to. And to breathe in the fresh air, even now these photos bring that right back to me.

The trabucchi are essentially a small pier with a complex architectural structure, anchored to the rock, with arms jutting over the water with ropes attached to huge nets underneath. It usually took a four-person crew to manoeuvre these fishing machines, two to operate the winch, one in charge of the net and one to monitor the shoals of fish.

LOOKING BACK TO TRABUCCO SAN LORENZO

AND LOOKING AHEAD TO TRABUCCO MOLINELLA

Although we were keen to get on, it was also good to stop and admire the coastal plants, such as this creeping sour fig with its bright flowers. Not that I knew its name at the time, a more recent phone update enables me to look up the names of plants from the photos, and that’s so very welcome.

Having reached halfway - and the final trebucco on our walk - we stopped to eat our picnic lunch; we’d bought rolls, cheese and sliced meat and some fruit in the supermarket near our hotel before we set out. It was quite the lunch with quite the view, but little did we know that there’d be many more lunches with views as special over the next few days on our trip. I mean we hoped, but we didn’t know for sure.

The trabucchi are no longer actively used by the fishing industry, but they are of immense cultural and historical interest and are protected by the Gargano National Park. There are restoration projects in place and some of the trabucchi offer organised visits and fishing experiences, which is a great way to ensure their history is not forgotten.

TRABUCCO MOLINELLA

The return leg of this walk was the same but in reverse, we managed this much more quickly as we were retracing our steps, and because we’d already taken the pictures we’d wanted. But isn’t it strange how walking the same picturesque route can at times look so, so different.

Our incentive to get back was an ice cream and a beer in one of the bars we’d spotted in the town the previous evening, and to suss out a potential restaurant for that evening. As the evening went on though, my ankle started to swell a little which was a little concerning with a week’s walking ahead of me.

Maybe a night’s rest would sort it out…

See all of my posts from our self-guided walking holiday in the Gargano Peninsular. We started the walk on 18 May 2024, returning to the UK eight days later.

The Barbican's Community Garden

On a sunny day in April I was down in London with some time on my hands and so I had a wander, and found myself coming out of yet another undiscovered part of the Barbican. I’m sure every time I go I find another way in or out, and so I wasn’t disappointed!

This time though I stumbled across the Moor Lane Clean Air Pop-Up Community Garden created in 2017 as part of the Low Emission Neighbourhood, and completely new to me. The garden intended to raise awareness of air quality in the City and to encourage pedestrians to take low emission routes to the Barbican station, the Barbican Centre and towards Guildhall using the Podium walkways.

Designed by three young landscape designers known as Studio xmpl, they worked pro bono with Friends of City Gardeners a City-based community group of garden volunteers, who now jointly maintain the garden along with the City of London Corporation’s City Gardens team.

The garden has been constructed from 57 galvanised steel pipes and all plants were chosen for their ability to trap particulates and improve air quality, as well as provided cover and forage for birds and nectar-rich flowers for pollinators.

In 2020 poet Kit Finnie and the Guildhall School of Music & Drama worked with local community groups to create poems which reflected on this garden, the pandemic and what the city means to them.

you have the power
to break something.
a common truth but
still. it comes to you
like ice water gulped
at 3am. joy that
streams freely from
the tap and cupped
hands to catch it in.
the air around your
body. all the london
beyond. beyond
that. another truth.
home is the thing
that settles round
your most beloved
person when they’re
still.

It was a garden full of structure, texture and shape with lush greenery and luckily on the day I visited sunlight glinting off the City offices behind. No doubt a great spot for City workers to eat their lunch.

I loved the poetry too, and wished I’d known about this place before - though of course I stopped working in the City in 2014, so a few years before this was created. But it’s the kind of place I’d have loved to escape to with colleagues, or alone, for lunch.

a distant hush is
an opportunity for
abundance. so is
a pigeon. a seed.
a baby animal. a
stranger biking to
the office. the sound
of a drill. a city fox. a
decision to attend.
a steady beat. a
gentle nudge. a
pavement.
new shoes. the
future. therapy. a
crush. printer paper.
wandering. the
climate crisis. your
inhale. your exhale.
this.

Somehow it seemed fitting that one of the ever increasing e-bikes parked up in the garden was green and labelled forest, less so that the building behind was a car park - but as with everything - balance!

inhale. exhale.
resilience is a
circle. a thread that
never ends. later.
you’ll savour this
encounter with
delight as fresh as
aloe. its audacity.
beating green in the
grey heart of your
city. feral moment
in your familiar day.
it will remind you
of the parts of
yourself that are
also a garden. a
poem. a breath. a
single leaf among
many.

I love discovering places like this, isn’t it great?