Anke: Royal Tunbridge Wells

King Charles on Tour

Yesterday we welcomed a friend from the Big Smoke down to Tunbridge Wells, mainly for the purposes of a little photography walk around town. I therefore broke out one of my repertoire of tours for visitors, and as we were pressed for time it was to be the speedy tour. Thus it went: Calverley Park, The Grove, Mount Sion, Eden Road, Chapel Place, King Charles the Martyr, The Pantiles, The Common, Mount Ephraim and home again. A nice big loop handily ending at Sankeys for a welcome pint.

The highlight of the day, apart from the unscheduled stop on The Pantiles for a cool glass of Chalybeate Water which was described as "like licking a lampost" and the refreshing cold beer to refresh the parts the Water didn't reach, was a visit to King Charles the Martyr Church. Here we were warmly welcomed by two cheerful ladies sat in front of a table festooned with pamphlets and guides. "Can we take some photos" we asked, to which their two faces lit up, "of course my dears, the more the merrier". So we did.

One's gaze can't help but drift upwards in a building like this, and there you'll see the fine ceiling domes by the master plasterers of Christopher Wren, namely John Wetherell and Henry Doogood. From there your attention is pulled towards the stained glass window at the back and you find yourself involuntarily walking towards it for a closer look.

We crept politely around all the fixtures and fittings, the lovely silence only marred every minute or so with the kerchunk of a camera shutter filling the air as we shot nearly every square inch of the place.

The details within the Church are so plentiful it's very easy to see your afternoon slip by in a flash. Just see how the light playing on the glass creates an image of warm colourful water on the old wooden boards in the picture below. Beautiful isn't it.

You can't really get it from this image, but the sound of the boards as you climb the stairs to the gallery above is strangely comforting. From up here back in a packed Sunday morning service in the summer of 1835 you may have caught the gaze of a young Princess Victoria, then a girl of sixteen, seated with her mother, sitting in the gallery opposite. A large brass plaque now attached to the panelling commemorates her visits.

Climbing the steps down again usually takes a lot longer than going up as you take your time to gaze at all the artwork that lines the small flight of steps. There are many fine beautiful historic documents here and they just beg to be photographed. Even if you can't quite read the writings of all of them.

There is time to peer outside through the coloured glass to the world beyond. Through the hazy delicately imperfect panes the view could almost be hundreds of years old if not for the speed of the passing shapes indicating modern traffic. Chapel Place looks crooked and skewed in a world of strange colour and passers by wobble past and make you reach out to touch the glass.

We reach into our pockets and post pieces of silver through the golden slot in the wall, our time here was fleeting but worth a couple of pounds in loose change. Goodbye ladies, enjoy the wonderful peace and quiet when we're gone. I can't wait for the next friend to come visit so I can go back again.

There are a few more pictures here for you to enjoy of our small photowalk around the church and beyond.

Rustley Nuts

As a nice escape from the Christmas rush around the shops, we thought we'd take a crisp stroll over the common. Armed with a bag of monkey nuts in a rustley bag we tramped through the squelchy mud and the sleepy trees in search of some of the local wildlife (apparently the noise of the bag attracts squirrels). Well it seemed that the big fat things have had a rather bumper crop of other delights on the common this year and as such didn't really take any notice of our nuts, so we left a few as a token gesture and headed off to The Grove where they might be a bit hungrier.

Well the squirrels in The Grove were much friendlier and came within just a few feet of us at times, unlike the timid common ones, but still they refused our snacks, instead furiously digging away with their paws at the soggy ground upending nuts they'd buried during the summer. Even tossing our offerings within a few feet of them they still continued to ignore them, instead preferring their own buried treasure. So we gave up, sat for a while and enjoyed watching them go about their business. A lovely afternoon.