Chartwell

A humungous breakfast at the hotel this morning. Porage, then a massive bacon sandwich, then sausages and hash browns and finally fresh fruit salad which set us up for the rest of the day.

First was a walk along the seafront in the opposite direction to yesterday to the Marina in much calmer conditions. The bit of the marina we saw looked rather tatty; an ugly concrete mulitstorey carpark was a far as we could get in the time. The top floor of the carpark was hosting a boot sale with a fascinating collection of trader goods and items of funiture, old mechanical things, bikes and what appeared to be tat. (although I realise I may be upsetting blippers who like boot sales)

Susan has wanted to go to Chartwells, home of Sir Winston Churchill, this Christmas as they have some rooms decorated in a 1920s style Christmas so we called in on the way back from Brighton. It was only four rooms that were decorated, so it was fairly low key but the green dining room looked good. There was also an exhibition telling the story of Churchill's time in the Trenches in 1915, co-inciding with the 100 year anniversary of that event.

His studio was open, so we were able to see some of his paintings as well as some of the gifts grateful nations and people gave him in thanks for his leadership during the Second World War. No sign of the resident cat though. It was a gloomy, foggy afternoon, so snapping a blip was a challenge; there was no photography in the house, but I liked the seat, brickwork and window of this mono composition.

Quite ironic to see "No Smoking" signs up, especially in his studio as, of course, he was rarely seen without a cigar. There was one left on the dining table and another in an ashtray next to a glass of whisky by his artist's easel. I wonder what his comments would be?

Finally we attended the Stile Bridge Folk Club in the evening to listen to some music, songs and readings mainly about Christmas. One of these meetings we'll have to make a contribution.