Shrewsbury

 

I know you'll laugh but I'd never been to Shrewsbury, and last week that all changed as we drove off the stormy highlands of the Scots/English DMZ into lush, verdant, pastoral Shropshire. Well done faithful Tigra for making it so far, and well done D for driving.

And there it was, Shrewsbury. Turn right over the river into the half-timbered heart of the town and nav through the narrow cobbled streets to the Prince Rupert hotel, GPS is your friend. Then check in, drink a comp glass of sherry, thanks, Prince Rupert, and try and find your room.

This wasn't easy, on account of the hotel being a maze of corridors in a series of interconnected houses, but it was worth the search because the room was pleasant, overlooking ancient awesomeness. You could even open the window, a rarity in today's hermetically sealed hotel rooms.

That night, an old friend came in from Ludlow and we set off in search of adventure, finding it in an unreconstructed 1980s pub, half-timbered of course, complete with a juke box and "we only take cash," another rarity in disturbingly cashless Britain.

The next day we met with an old friend I hadn't seen in several decades, and he was on fine form, what a blessing to catch up with people you haven't seen in many, many years and even more so to find them just as fun as they ever were, perhaps more so. Great fun, and I introduced GJ to Negronis, such a good drink, at a pub on the river; big hit.

Later that evening, I found myself at the bar of the pleasantly old fashioned hotel and fell into conversation with a retired policeman who felt the country had "gone to the dogs." Perhaps he had a point, but Shrewsbury seems to have escaped the wrecking ball of modernity. 

Close run thing too, apparently some commission told the town's elders that if they persisted in destroying historic buildings they'd lose their heritage status. So they stopped. Good.

random street scene

So visit Shrewsbury, it's gorgeous, and stay at the Prince Rupert, a pleasantly old school hotel. Go too to the Hopping Friar pub where beer's three bucks (parityish) a pint. Next stop? The amazing, remarkable, can't speak too highly of it Ludlow.

Your Touring Pal,

LSP

Edinburgh

  

York's great, no doubt about it, but D and I were on a mission to get to the Athens of the North via Vauxhall Tigra. Would the four wheeled runabout make it up the hills of the scenic route? It did, mercifully, and we stopped at Bremenium, a Roman fort north of Hadrian's Wall. Not much remains today but you can see traces of its walls and triple ditch. It once held a significant force of 1000 men.

Then on to Edinburgh to meet an old friend who, among other things, is President of the fabled Ghost Club. He gave us a great tour of the city, New Town, the Royal Mile and much, much more. Excellent, what a great place until... 

You get to the Scottish Parliament building, which is hideous and cost 400M GBP. They say architecture reflects the soul or spirit of the people who build it; northern parliamentarians, take note.

That aside, I was struck by the place, street after street of Georgian houses in New Town and then the old medieval city by the castle. Beautiful now but it must have been a noisome place in the days before plumbing made its way into the tall tenements and courts, gardyloo.

So go to Edinburgh if you can and enjoy the architecture, history, pubs, restaurants, museums and galleries of the city. It was great to be back after nearly 30 years and great to meet up with our ghostly friend, what a good man.

Was haggis involved? Yes. Were there pipers? Everywhere. Did I wear a kilt? No, I did not. Were there ghosts? Possibly at the Arthur Conan Doyle Center. Next stop? Back south to Shrewsbury, Ludlow and Aberystwyth.

Cheers,

LSP

Road Trip #1

 

Yes, London is awesome and I love its imperial greatness, the Embankment, Whitehall, Jermyn Street, Harvie & Hudson, the sheer greatness of the place. Tip of the top hat to our Victorian forebears and their Regency parents, there were giants in those days.

That said, movement is a sign of life, so we climbed into the motor, Vauxhall Tigra(!) and drove north from Aldgate East, to Edinburgh, via York. Sure, it's not so far but UK roads are slow so we broke up the journey. York's great, all these little shops in medieval buildings and the Minster itself.

We didn't go into the Minster but did go into a pub for a hearty Yorkshire meal of roast beef and all the rest, delicious. A friendly prof from the university joined in, he specializes in African archeology, what a good guy.

So that was fun, and so was the hotel. Just a short walk from the gates of the old city and the fleshpots of the Shambles. The place was hosting a wedding reception as we pulled in, a lovely young bride, her groom and guests, beautiful.

The next day? On to Edinburgh, the Athens of the North.

Cheers,

LSP

Some London Churches

 

London isn't just about pubs, whether in Tower Hill, Soho, Marleybone, Fleet Street or anywhere else, it's also about churches, and I took the time to visit a few. Corpus Christi Maiden Lane, just off Covent Garden, stood out. A beautiful catholic church, full of the beauty and sense of holiness.

As soon as you enter this hidden away gem of a church you're struck by the hushed reverence of the place, a haven from the secular rush outside. You'll note Corpus Christi doesn't have a knave altar. I lit a candle and prayed.

Corpus Christi

St. Mary le Strand is Church of England and stands on the Strand opposite King's College, it's an architectural masterpiece designed by James Gibbs, replacing an earlier church which was demolished in 1549 to make way for Somerset House. The new St. Mary's was consecrated in 1724 and, curiously, I'd never been inside, despite walking by it daily while at King's. What was it like?

St. Mary le Strand

Stately and perhaps intimate English Baroque, a very medium sized congregation would feel at home in the nave. Was there a sense of the numinous, the holy within? Not compared to Corpus Christi and perhaps that was because of the Vicar holding some kind of planning meeting, under the pulpit. There they were, planning away. Still, a beautiful church and a haven from the rush of the Strand.

St. Bride's

Walk a few minutes east to Fleet Street Street and St. Bride's, the journalist's church. I'd never been there before, oddly, and was somehow moved by the calmness of the place, its sense of reverence, and lit a candle. After visiting the church you can visit a pub, the Old Bell, built by Christopher Wren and pleasantly unspoiled.

St. Anselm & St. Cecilia's

Heading back west, walk north up the Kingsway to St. Anselm and St. Cecilia's, a Roman Catholic church and yet another shelter from the storm of people rushing, in this case, into the vastly expanded maw of LSE (London School of Economics). It's an austere, simple church and I prefer Corpus Christi, still, Christ is most definitely present

Then return to your set up on the Strand via Lincoln's Inn, get ready to meet old friends and wonder at the sheer number of churches in this small section of the city, the above's just a snapshot. 

They weren't built from a lack of faith, may that return again.

God bless,

LSP

Pubs

 

One of the things you can do in London is go to pubs, I like that and enjoyed the Princess of Prussia, the famous French House and the Coach & Horses, the last two being in Soho.

Just a lot of fun but be ready for a bit of a scrum inside and out the Soho pubs for the first part of the evening. They get more manageable as the night goes on. Then, after last orders, you can stroll down the road to Bar Italia for coffee. Always a good result.

And I know it's not a pub but I like Gordon's, which is a wine bar on Villiers Street, next to Charing Cross station. Back in the '80s the action was all inside, in a cellarlike bar, but now you can spread out onto a congenial terrace, and drink your claret under helpful heat lamps. The food's good too, simple and not too pricey.

Convenient. You can walk down the Strand or the Embankment, pull into Gordon's, enjoy that, then head over to Soho for the rest of the night. Fun, and it was good to revisit old haunts and discover they were still there, mostly unchanged.

Of course other things have changed, but that's another story.

Pints all 'round,

LSP

All Set Up

But where? At the Strand Continental Hotel above the London institution that is the India Club, just down the Strand from King's and a shortish stroll to most everything central. Absurdly cheap too, which is a bonus, and right there in the heart of it all. 

Fancy

Is the SCH fancy? No, it is not. Is it clean? Yes, it is. Has it changed much from the 1940s? Apparently not, and I like that.  So pleased with the setup I headed East to Tower Hill and the Princess of Prussia pub to meet some old friends. What a good pub! Go there if you can.

Always wondered what this building was

Then back to the Strand which, unlike the SCH, has changed since the 1940s. In fact, it's changed in the last five years, but that's another story again. In the meanwhile, it's simply exciting to be back in London, there's a greatness to this city and you have to wonder at the Victorians who pretty much built what we see today. Yes, there were clearly giants in those days.

More anon as this adventure unfolds.

Cheers,

LSP

Off To The Old Country

 

Off to the Sceptred Isle for the first time in over five years and I'm excited about that, it'll be good to see old friends, family and the country itself. In the meanwhile, checking in was absurdly easy and here's Terminal D, back to normal, as though the deadly killer pandemic had never existed.

And I'm not complaining, just having a not cold enough beer at a make pretend craft brewery airport mall bar called Brewed. Huh. Maybe I'll leave this ersatz pub and go to a fake wine bar called Cru. Why not? There's no "rule."

See you on the other side,

LSP

If You Scorn This You're A Fool

 

I won't bang on.

Respect,

LSP

What Utter Idiocy

 

You may have noticed Air Force academy cadets in Colorado have been taking Diversity and Inclusion classes, D&I, which teach them to use gender neutral language. No more "Mom" and "Dad" for these future warfighters, via Fox News:

According to Fox, an Air Force Academy spokespersyn told the news channel that D&I training prepared the cadets for "warfighting effectiveness." That's right, inclusive language and diversity is key to force lethality, it wins wars.

Yes. Imagine the scene, you're flying low and fast in a rook through deep echelon air defense, somewhere in Eastern Europe. By a miracle you make it and deliver ordnance on target, more miraculously still you get it back to the airfield and there you are, alive, mission accomplished. And all because everyone in your team said "transgender service people" and wrote letters home to their caregiver guardian parents. 

No. They didn't say "Mom" or "Dad," and that's why they won the firefight, said no one ever until the advent of today's rainbow hued American Armed Forces. Leaving aside such total, utter idiocy, why this push to erase our identity as human beings, as Mothers, Fathers, men and women?

On the one hand, it comes almost honestly from people who believe these definitions are instruments of oppression and must therefore be abolished. No man, no woman, no Mother, no Father and at last we're equal, but equal as what? As sexless drones of the hivemind, serf beasts obedient to power. 

Unintended consequence for sure of an ideology which doesn't believe in the reality of humanity in the name of freedom, but there it is. And remember, everything the Left enacts produces the opposite of its intended result. 

And Big Money loves it. Let's rake in Raytheon diversity billions because gender inclusive, green munitions save the planet even as they rip people apart. Thank Gaia you don't refer to them as Mom, Dad, man, woman as you burn them down. 

In related news, California's legalized human fertilizer, not kidding.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Junior LSP Roofie

 

I know, this is a family blog so all six of you readers get the news on my eldest son who's enjoying the Army. Well done, boy. But there's another son you've hardly heard of, a Junior LSP, who lives in the land of the ice and snow, in Calgary. What's he up to?

Roofing. That's right, up at 5 am and onto the roofs of Calgary and beyond, which is no small thing right about now with our Old Enemy the Weather about to get -40++ with the wind. You can imagine what it's like on the roofs.

So respect to the young 'un. Graduate from High School and get up on that roof instead of taking a "year out" as some kind of two-bit hippy. And, when college looms shortly he'll be able to pay for it, what with having a trade and all. Quite unlike, say, trannie theater collective majors.

Familial plaudit regardless, we spoke for the first time in a while this evening, "Dad, we were working on a roof in Cochrane for the RCMP, it was pretty cool, a big complex, and there was this noise, so we stopped and looked up. A bald eagle, soaring, I couldn't believe it was real, but it was."

God bless and keep our young men, wherever they are.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

All Hail Ladbroke Grove

 

Maybe space rock is the best rock, in the hall of the...

Mountain Grill,

LSP

Listen Up Heathen

 

Yesterday was the Feast of St. Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist. Here's the late great Canadian, Fr. Crouse:

The mission of the Church is to call us out of darkness; by word and sacrament to set before our eyes the vision of God's glory in the face of Jesus Christ. That is at the heart of liturgy, and all the Christian arts; the light of pure, transcendent glory must shine through, and that is essential to all our intellectual and moral and ascetical disciplines, too. Without that vision, all else so easily falls into deceit and craftiness; or perhaps, at best, narrowness of spirit, or just pedestrian nonsense. But even pedestrian nonsense, you know, if that's all there is, is a pretty nasty form of hell (my emph, LSP).

May we, along with Matthew - rejoicing in his fellowship, and aided by his prayers - be granted grace, that in this liturgy, and in all the images of earthly life, we may glimpse the face of Jesus Christ; and then, beyond all earthly images, "beheld with open face" that everlasting glory. That is, after all, our calling.

I cannot add to that,

LSP