Cocktails and Country Tales

I’ve been nominated for two more blogging awards over the last month, so thought it about time I got my act together and responded.

The lovely Laurelandlily has nominated me for the Liebster award. (Thanks!) For this you have to answer the ten questions given to you by your nominator, and then nominate ten other bloggers to answer the ten questions you want to ask. There’s no mention of a logo, but I like blog-award logos (it feels like being given a sticker, and we all know that is a prize to be treasured above all others) so I found one.

The London Scrapbook has nominated me for the Versatile Blogger award, and I got another nomination for this a few days ago from The Infinite Abyss(es). Thank you to both of you! To claim my award (no actual award apparently. Money in the post welcome as always though) I have to:

Thank the person who gave it to you, and include a link to their blog (links above).
Tell the person who nominated you seven things about yourself.
Then select fifteen blogs that you’ve recently discovered or regularly follow, and nominate them for the award.

another ~~sticker~~ logo, yay!

I thought I’d answer Laurelandlily’s ten questions first, so here goes:

1. What is your earliest memory?

I remember pootling around outside our house on Mount Macedon, looking for garden snails to stomp on like Dad had taught me, and hearing some hikers next to our property exclaiming over a koala. That koala kept us awake all night barking, so I remember deciding to waddle over there to lay claim to the git. I couldn’t talk properly (I must have been two or three), but I went and stood underneath the gum tree it was squatting in until they got uncomfortable and left. My house, my koala.

2. Is there a film, book, object, person or place that makes you cry every time you are confronted with it?

I can’t even look at a copy of My Friend Flicka without feeling a deep well of distress awaken, and I have to leave the area or hide it from view. I don’t even remember what happens, but the horror and misery I felt when I first read it has stuck with me.

3. Who is your favourite architect or artist and why?

Impossible to choose! One of my favourite artists though is Sir John Everett Millais, as his paintings are so vibrant and detailed.

4. If you had to be a different person for a day, who would that person be and why?

I’d like to live in the neolithic period for a day, so I could see what the hell was actually going on at that time, and ask everyone WHY they were doing whatever they were doing.

5. Have you read a book that’s changed your life? How come?

I read Nietzsche’s The Birth of Tragedy for my undergrad English degree, and my own writing suddenly improved hugely. It may have been circumstantial, the result of a year and a half under my belt of reading all the books in the world, but I carried that book around for weeks like a talisman.

6. Do you have a favourite song? Which one, why?

Beethoven’s 6th Symphony. I first heard it on an audiotape I had of Wind in the Willows, and whenever I hear it again as an adult I am instantly transported to a little rowing boat making its way down a twisting stream, overhung with weeping willows. A flurry of bubbles like pearls cascades over gentle rapids, and spring flowers are just starting to poke their delicate heads through the soil on the river bank.

7. Dr Seuss or Roald Dahl? (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, get thee to Google IMMEDIATELY.)

Dr. Seuss. The only Roald Dahl book I encountered as a child was James and the Giant Peach, which I remember being quite perturbed by.

8. Do you have siblings? What’s your relationship with them like?

I’m an only child, and very happy to be (sharing?! Ha!) but am always fascinated by sibling relationships.

9. Where did you grow up? Did you like it there?

I lived in Australia until I was four, then on a tropical island called Nauru until I was eight. We then moved to Cornwall, then West Sussex, and finally settled in East Sussex when I was eleven. Most of my formative memories are from my time on Nauru. I’d go to the beach nearly every day, snorkelling in rock pools on the reef, or play in the jungle near our house. There weren’t many expat children and I was home-schooled, so I suppose it was quite lonely compared to most people’s childhoods. In every other way though it was paradise, and I spent nearly all my time exploring.

10. Favourite film? Why?

Robin Hood Prince of Thieves. No explanation needed surely?!

Right, my turn! The ten questions I put to my nominees are (nothing serious, don’t worry):

1) What are your five favourite novels?

2) What’s the best lie/ tall tale your parents ever told you as a child?

3) What one object would you save from your house in a fire? (Nothing alive – presume that even the tropical fish can get themselves safely out without your help).

4) Do you remember the first ever fancy-dress party you went to? What did you go as and why?

5) What would plan B have been, career-wise?

6) What one garment or item of clothing that you own could you not live without?

7) What’s the best mistake you’ve ever made?

8) Do you have any phobias, and what do you think caused them?

9) What is your most common typo? (Mine is Englihs . Yes, I know. ‘I am an Englihs teacher’. Sigh.)

10) Why did you first start your blog, and is it the same thing that keeps you writing it now?

Now, my nominees:

Last time I was nominated for blogging awards I put them all into one post, which I’m sure was annoying. So… I thought I’d do it again. Sorry! I really want to hear my nominees’ answers to my Liebster questions, but if you’d rather not then please feel free to accept the Versatile Blogger award, and share seven things about yourself instead. The weirder the better.

http://onetrackmuse.com/

http://flamingodancer.net/

http://maisonbentleystyle.com/

http://jackiemallon.com/

http://bulanlifestyle.wordpress.com

http://charactersfromthekitchen.wordpress.com/

http://valeriedavies.com/

http://sequinsandcherryblossom.com/

http://missismoss.com/

http://thecircusdiaries.com/

http://londonunveiled.com/

http://pianolearner.wordpress.com/

http://thelondonscrapbook.com/

http://thinaby.com/

http://laurelandlily.wordpress.com/

You might also like:

Christmas shouldn’t be a time for getting things you need. Where’s the magic in that? (Though, Mum and Dad, if you’re reading this, I really do need that new camera. And… a pony?) Christmas presents should be treats. They should be special; unique. I thought I’d pick out a few traditionally boring gift categories, and show you how to make them a bit more exciting.

1) Socks

Socks are sort of a joke present these days aren’t they, but actually I think Grandads are onto something here. I’m a big fan of these woollen lovelies from Really Wild. Warm and sturdy, they’re perfect for popping under gumboots for long muddy walks, or if you live in a real country house that’s always bloody cold in winter.

£35. You can buy them here.

2) Paperweights

Another dull necessity, but something designed to be displayed on your desk, to be weighed in the hand and stared into for inspiration, should be worthy of its place. These are:

£30 for the small size, £40 for the large. You can buy them here.

3) Ornaments

Some people like porcelain kittens but, er, not me. I recently discovered the work of the wonderful Mister Finch stocked in York’s Imaginarium. He sews together the most beautiful animals, toadstools and insects, inspired by British folklore. His creations are magical, and I’d be delighted to find one of his giant bumble bees or delicate toadstools under the Christmas tree.

Stockists here.

4) Book Vouchers

These are always boring. Even for a bookworm like me! (Well, actually, I do find them pretty exciting, but most people are normal.) Gifts should be memorable, even if they don’t last, so go to the effort of finding out what sort of book they’d like and buying it for them. If you are adamant that you’d prefer vouchers though, why not go for something different, like a voucher from the Royal Opera House? Your lucky recipient can still make their choice from the different ballets and operas being staged, so you’re leaving them an element of control, but it’ll be far more memorable than a trip to Waterstones for them. Go on, surprise someone – it won’t be what they expected!

Spend as much or as little as you want to! You can buy them here.

5) Chocolates

Chocolates in any form and shape are always welcome, but some are more welcome than others. William Curley was awarded the prestigious ‘Britain’s Best Chocolatier’ accolade four times by The Academy of Chocolate (doesn’t that sound like a great place to work?) You can of course just purchase the chocolates, but if you’re keen on vouchers and have deep pockets, then they also offer a three month membership voucher. For £75, you receive a box each month full of their best sellers and new products. For £155, you will be contacted directly by one of their team to establish your likes, dislikes and favourites, then receive a bespoke selection of new products, seasonal lines, best sellers, award winners and your own personal favourites.

You can buy them (for me) here.

6) Jewellery

It’s very difficult to find affordable jewellery that is still personal and interesting. Etsy is always a useful place to start online, but antique stores and markets are the best place to turn up something unique. One particular antique dealer in Tenterden knows that I collect black wedgewood, so last time I popped in he showed me a mid-nineteenth century, black wedgewood ring set in gold (that he’d just happened to get his hands on). It was the most expensive piece of jewellery I’d ever bought for myself, but I couldn’t resist it because it was so unusual.

I’m particularly enamoured of these sea urchin rings at the moment. I used to spend hours beach-combing when I lived on Nauru, and found hundreds of sea urchin needles, but an intact skeleton was always an especially great prize. I think it’s important to hold onto our childhoods, where we came from and what made us who we are, and the jewellery we wear is often an expression of this.

I’m also a big fan of the small dog-rose rings by the same designer, however… it would be difficult to decide!

£65-£160. Buy them here.

7) Pencils

Don’t get me wrong, I like pencils, especially ones in tins with names like ‘Graphite MASTER‘ and ‘Uber Skizze‘, but… exciting? No. For the creative person in your life (or the creatively deficient who frankly, needs the practice) why not go crazy and invent a new hobby for them so they can actually play with stuff at Christmas. A block of clay and weirdly invasive-looking tools? Yes please! Maybe try gilding, with sheets of actual gold. You could gild your children – they’ll love it, I promise. I sometimes give my female students gift-card-making paraphernalia: blank cards and envelopes, ribbons, charms, stamps and ink pads, which always goes down well.

Buy art materials here.

Head here for ribbons, but do go in person, because it’s a wonderful, wonderful place.

8) Alcohol

No, it isn’t boring – of course not! However, if you are trying to find something a little bit different, perhaps try an accompanying toy:

Elegant cocktail shaker and matching ice bucket? Yes please!

Go on, throw in the glasses as well. John Lewis will sort you out here.

I also found these completely pointless but strangely tantalising moulds for making round ice cubes. Perfect for whiskey apparently, as the ice chills without diluting.

£15 for two. You can buy them here.

9) Kitchenware

There is something wonderful about a practical object being also beautiful, especially if it’s also a bit strange. I told you about Ibride’s stunning trays before, but they’re too good to forget (and, like, nobody’s bought me one yet? Hello?!)

£44-£166. You can buy them here.

10) Something You Made Yourself

Right, so I know this is sort of breaking the ‘shopping theme’ of this post, but having heard someone recently bemoaning being given home-made gifts, I thought I’d clarify the issue. Home-made gifts are of no value at all at Christmas if they’re any good. The BEST home-made gifts, are absolutely bloody awful. Stay with me. If you’re terrible at drawing, draw caricatures of all your friends and frame them (the frame is the clincher, as it means they’ll have to display it, at least when you visit). They’ll laugh at a portrait your cat could have drawn better, and you’ll laugh for years to come when they have to look at it on the wall every day. See, Christmas should be a time of frivolity and laughter. Zero culinary skills? Make the worst cake/ biscuits/ liqueur you can, and its consumption can be used as a forfeit when the drinking games begin! Tom used to eat a lot of pickled eggs (I don’t know why, I think it’s a Northern thing. Or maybe he’s just disgusting.) so I gave him a jar of pickled quail eggs one year. He and his brothers had a great time forcing each-other to eat them. I think someone vomited. Now THAT’S what you want out of Christmas.

You might also like:

Most people wind down over Christmas and the New Year, and use it as a chance to take stock of their lives.

Unfortunately for Tom and I, however, most of the entrance exams take place over January, so mid-November to mid-January is our busiest time of the year. Often working weekends and 16hr days, we barely have time to breath. Everything is slowly starting to go back to normal though, so I thought it high-time I got my act together and wrote a new blog post. We’re taking the first two weeks of February off, so I’ll have lots of lovely things to share with you then, but for now I thought I’d introduce you all to The Gilbert Scott bar.

Commissioned by the Midland Railway in 1866 and designed by George Gilbert Scott, the Midland Hotel was built to accommodate Kings Cross rail passengers. It oozed extravagance and luxury, with extensive decoration in gold leaf, ornate stencilling and flamboyant wallpapers covering every inch of the hotel. By 1935, however, it had become too expensive to maintain and heat. It also lacked ensuite bathrooms, and the solid foundations made it impossible to add new plumbing routes, so it was closed as a hotel and used to accommodate British Rail staff (who evidently didn’t mind sharing bathrooms) and later as railway offices. They were finally forced out in 1985 by a failed fire-safety certificate, but in 2011 the hotel reopened as the Renaissance Hotel (having passed the fire-safety certificate and undergone extensive restoration and updates, including a new wing).

Ta-da.

The rooms are beautiful, the restaurant is lovely, but my favourite part is The Gilbert Scott bar. It’s a fairly small space, and – perhaps as a result – is relaxed and accommodating. Most importantly, the cocktails are just… incredible. I always have a Trade Winds, which apparently contains Bols Genever (the precursor to English gins, as well as being the origin of the phrase ‘Dutch Courage’), elderflower, ginger, lemon, carbonated gunpowder tea, cardamom and cloves. It evokes the romance of the East India Company battling 18th century pirates and the high seas. Never stick to just one cocktail though; that would be silly.

It was my Birthday last week, so we spent a wonderful few hours working our way through the cocktail menu, and taking photos (on my new camera which I have not yet worked out how to use, so apologies for the blurriness). As you can see, we are not a particularly serious lot.

Aidan (who I’ve known since I was 16 and I played Puck to his Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream) and the lovely Kirsty (who I met on my Renaissance and Early Modern Studies MA, and who has just completed her PhD the clever thing).

My best friend Katy (who I’ve known since I was 11, and who, incidentally, played Helena in the same Midsummer Night’s Dream production).

Tom’s friend Steve and I (posing in the guise of Alice and Luther. I can’t remember why.) I think I’m drinking a Pomodoro there.

Hijacking Dave, who was trying to be sensible. Pah. (Dave was actually the first of Tom’s friends that I met, as they shared a squalid little flat in Muswell Hill at the time.)

We mustn’t forget the cocktails. I think this is an Amber Embers – campfire tea infused scotch, apricot, sweet vermouth and lemon. Delicious and exciting…

Ooo! See! Very exciting. I do love things that come with smoke. Their January cocktail menu below:

Tom’s friend Andy is practically bent over double to get his arm round me here. He is a very tall man.

My lovely friend Hannah (who I’ve also known since I was 11, and who played Bottom in the SAME production as Katy, Aidan and I. Hannah has also brought horses back into my life, and rock-climbing, for which I would happily marry her if she’d have me).

Aidan and I being aggressive and street. Innit.

Posing with hair over my face. I’m not sure why I have long hair, only to grab it and put it on top of my head whenever a camera is pointed at me. Perhaps this is why.

Charles, Tom and Neil, all looking like they’re up to no good.

Charles and I pretending to be Russian spies.

The real Russian spies – Sam and Laura, who have moved to Moscow and St Petersburg to teach and anglify small Russian children.

And finally, my lovely Thomas, who organised the evening, and who I’m marrying in 3 1/2 months (panicpanicpanic, must organise a wedding soon.)

You might also like:

The best riding is to be had in the countryside. Not pootling around Hyde Park with untrained lapdogs snapping at your heels, because they’ve had all intelligence bred out of them and think chasing a horse’s tail will have no skull-crushing consequences. Not going round and round in circles in a sand-school with ten other grumpy ponies trotting nose to tail. You can do what you want in the countryside.

My friend with horses, Hannah, decided it was high-time we went on a good three hour hack, and whispered The Water Meadows to me, like we were going to Shangri-La. For most people, this would sound crap I’m sure. A watery field would mean only surprisingly deep and unpleasantly freezing water pouring over the top of your gumboots, mud sucking off your shoes, and generally ruining any nice clothes you foolishly decided to wear. With horses, however, this means riding through water, and this is just about the most fun you can have on a horse.

Hannah and Padraig in the middle of a river (he is over 17hh, to give you an idea of how deep it is.)

Going very, very fast is also fun, jumping is of course fun, but if you consider the ratio of difficulty/ danger to pleasure, plain old riding through water is just as good. Something happens to a horse’s gait when they move through water. The extra energy they have to put into moving is transferred through the saddle and into you, and you get an extra bounce. Not the sort that propels you from the saddle or rattles your bones either, but the sort that makes it feel like you’re riding a dinosaur that’s running. You can also very often see them thinking ‘seriously? You want me to do what?’ Are you completely insane?’ which is very, very funny. Then they get in and realise how much fun it is, and you’re off.

River ponies. Me on Sampson, and Amy on Freckles. I wish I knew what Sampson was thinking here… caption suggestions are welcome.

The river here has swollen with flood water, and is now even deeper and much wider than usual. Riding through flood-water is particularly exciting, as the landscape has temporarily changed. Solid ground has suddenly become water, and wading through it on horseback feels like you’re exploring new territory. You can tell that the horses find it interesting as well – they’ll snort at it with their ears pricked up, and plunge forward once they’re sure they’re not going to be attacked by water demons.

Sampson looking particularly disgruntled here. Shortly afterwards Amy made it to the far bank, but Freckles, presumably fearing he would be left behind (though this isn’t really logical as Hannah and I were chatting in the middle, completely stationary, so goodness knows what he was really up to), made a run for it and galloped back through the river at top speed. Amy was completely drenched but managed to stay on, luckily, as we were laughing too hard to fish her out.

My photography skills here. This is what happens when you try to take photos whilst sitting on a horse in a river.

Despite being a bit wet, quite muddy, and smelling distinctly of horses, Hannah had suggested we do something a bit different in the afternoon. We popped back to my flat to de-horse, and jumped in a taxi to the Renaissance Hotel. We had cocktails here for my Birthday, but they’re currently serving a Brontë-themed afternoon tea, so we thought we’d check it out and make an attempt at being ladylike for a change.

Billed as the ultimate Yorkshire Afternoon Tea, it is designed as a tribute to the famous writing sisters. We started with finger sandwiches, of course, which included a Wensleydale and pickle option in honour of the Brontës’ love of the Lake District. These were lovely, though we could have done with more sandwiches and fewer cakes to be honest. We then moved on to Yorkshire puddings with mash and gravy, in lieu of the traditional scones, as often cooked by Emily Brontë (apparently). Hannah said these were excellent, though as they contained beef (not made clear on the menu) I had to take her word for it. It was a nice touch though, and made for a more interesting afternoon tea than the usual insipid affair that some hotels try to pass off.

Alongside these were delicious mouthfuls of pistachio cream, and then we moved onto the wonderful cake selection. A mouthful of Yorkshire Parkin (from an original recipe devised by the Brontë ’s faithful servant Tabby), Pontefract liquorice and chocolate cupcakes, some sort of mini tart thingy, and a Rhubarb Eton Mess which was definitely my favourite.

Here’s me (accidentally looking sulky – I promise I was enjoying myself immensely) wearing an Alice Temperley shawl.

Hannah looking all fresh-faced and innocent (don’t believe it) wearing Hobbs.

We also went for the Victorian gin cocktails, aptly titled Bramwell’s Ruin (Brontë brother Bramwell was an alcoholic) which were served in lovely 1920s coupe glasses. They were made from gin, sloe gin, orange bitters, rhubarb bitters I think, and… more alcohol. It was delicious, but very, very strong.

Tom and I haven’t had a proper holiday for months, as even over Christmas we ended up having to work most days (emailing and organising tutors and clients on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day, New Years Eve etc). As the first proper day of our two week holiday therefore, horses and afternoon tea made a wonderful start, so thank you Hannah for suggesting it!

You might also like:

I’ve mentioned The Prestonfield before, so I’m very glad to finally be able to show you around.

The main entrance.

Someone’s lovely leather luggage awaiting collection.

Built in 1687, this gorgeous manor house was originally the private home of Edinburgh’s Lord Provost. By the 1960s, however, it had fallen out of use, so was converted into a boutique hotel. It sits in twenty acres of gardens and parkland, at the foot of Arthur’s Seat, and the view from every window is breathtaking. With only eighteen bedrooms and five suites, you’re also guaranteed a personal service, and indeed the hotel prides itself on this. There are also a number of drawing rooms, complete with roaring log fires, so even if you’re not a guest there are plenty of beautiful rooms to while away the hours over a glass of scotch or afternoon tea.

The first time we stayed at The Prestonfield it started snowing just as we drove up the main driveway, and we spent an incredibly romantic couple of days there. It was a wonderful introduction to Scotland. The best part, however, was being upgraded to a suite completely free of charge! There’s a big difference between the £170 price tag for a double room, and the £375 you usually have to pay for a suite. The complimentary bottle of Champagne that awaits, the his and hers bathrooms, the separate drawing room just for hanging out in…

Here’s Tom looking very pleased with himself for finding us the most incredible hotel to stay in.

And here’s me discovering the complimentary champagne and chocolate truffles.

SO. This time, we thought we’d see if it would happen again. We booked a normal double room and, lo and behold, on arrival we were indeed upgraded to a suite again for free! Apparently this is perfectly normal at The Prestonfield if they’re not already booked up, so if you’re able to go midweek and off-season then for goodness sake do.

Posing in the Ben Franklin suite (shoes L K Bennett, dress French Connection).

The bedroom.

Lounging around on the chaise lounge.

Not a renaissance oil painting, but the reflection on one of the windows of the room’s interior.

Posing in our private drawing room. The leopard print carpet and draped-satin wallpaper may not be to everyone’s taste, but it certainly makes an impact.

The Yellow Room

After we’d changed for dinner, we sat by the fire for a while in the ever-so-decadent Yellow Room. All gold and yellow Baroque patterns and black leather sofas, the log fire sent shadows darting around the room, and we were able to write in peace for a couple of hours. A fantastic range and array of scotches are also available, and the knowledgeable staff are happy to offer advice based on your preferences whenever they pop in to stoke the fire.

I took a couple of photos the next morning, so you could see all the gorgeous details.

The Prestonfield is also the location of Rhubarb, a very decadent and very delightful restaurant. It’s located in a pair of oval rooms at the heart of the hotel, each hung with a large gold chandelier. The walls are papered in bold red, black and gold stripes, black candles glitter on every table, and oil paintings watch over you as you explore the menu. It put me in mind of dining in the captain’s cabin on board a pirate galleon.

Although it looks like a mirrored reflection, the second chandelier you can see is actually suspended in the second dining room.

Poor Thomas, looking very tired!

The food was very impressive, and beautifully presented. We asked for a cheeseboard to be brought up to our room so we could relax, and this array of delights arrived soon after (hot chocolate for Tom, port for me). I can’t remember what all the cheeses were, but they all disappeared pretty quickly!

The next morning we skipped breakfast so we could have a much needed lie-in, and had tea and coffee in The Yellow Room instead after we’d checked out. As we were waiting for our taxi I spotted something through one of the windows, so I grabbed my camera and ran outside…

Can you see them?

PEACOCKS! Sunning themselves on the lawn.

This is clearly the king of the peacocks.

The Prestonfield was wonderful, as ever, and I’d highly recommend it. Even just the one night is worth it as a treat, especially if you’re able to go mid-week!

You might also like:

DSCF1715

A fairly new shop has opened in York, and I love it. It’s like Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, but for grown-ups. Or at least for those of us children masquerading as grown-ups.

Despite already being wrapped up in the magic of trotting through the past as you wander along York’s twisting, medieval streets, when you come across The Imaginarium you can’t help but pause. The gleaming gold carousel horse in the window makes the child in you say STOP. That’s quite far enough. We’re not going another step until you let me go inside. The giant hare in the other window whispers an invitation to you to jump down the rabbit hole so, with a quick glance to either side in case you’re never seen again, you step inside.

The interior is both beautiful and enchanting; full of shadows, treasures and jewel-like colours. Like Alice in Wonderland, you can’t help but skip between displays, gasping in delight and coveting everything you see. The paraphernalia associated with the science of magic and the fictive fantasy of it is everywhere, inviting you to lose yourself in the world of The Imaginarium. Glass bottles for potions, bell jars for displaying specimens, candles, incense and antique books, ornaments both utilitarian and decorative of toads, snails, owls and toadstools, ferns bursting through the walls as if an enchanted forest is trying to break through from the other side. Ibride’s theriocephaly trays adorn one wall, creatures caught half-way through enchantment, and sculpted human hands reach through to hold out silk scarves for your perusal.

There’s a wide spectrum of prices, with items for sale ranging from gift cards to unique sculptures, so you’ll be able to afford something whatever your budget. With a wedding to pay for I had to draw the line at paying £600 for one of Mr. Finch’s giant toadstools (I will be back one day though, never you fear). I was particularly enamoured of the potion bottles with labels like Aphrodisiac, Love Potion No. 9, A Solution for Everything, Joy Undiluted and Elixir of Youth (I would fill them unimaginatively with alcohol, obviously, but they’d make a great talking point when brought out during a Night Circus style dinner-party.) The miniature bell jars also took my fancy, and I loved these snail sugar-caddies.

The staff are lovely, and ever so well turned out (I wish I could wear a velvet jacket to work).

If you find yourself in York, do make sure you pay a visit to The Imaginarium. Get lost for half an hour, and purchase something magical that will make you smile every time you see it. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

You might also like:

I just read Christa D’Souza’s article on ‘The Sisterhood’ in March’s edition of Vogue, and it intrigued me. I know, I know, Vogue doesn’t quite count as a book, but I found the ideas touched upon in the article interesting, so I thought I’d share them with you lot.

The general premise is the rise in popularity of the ‘girl gang’ – women-only parties, pats on the back on Twitter etc. The article is more an exploration than a clear thesis, but it draws on the theories of a number of high-profile and outspoken women, so it’s a useful springboard to the discussion format that blogging allows.

My initial response was to instinctively wrinkle up my nose at all of this, and treat it with suspicion. It feels dangerous to say it, in the current climate, but I cannot help but be wary of modern feminism. One of my ten year old students said to me the other day that he didn’t want help with his homework from anyone, as if he did well it wouldn’t really be his achievement, so he’d be more pleased just to do okay and know that he’d done it all on his own. That’s sort of how I feel about feminism. Women are NOT the weaker gender, but saying that we need extra help only proves otherwise. I’m sure other people will disagree, in fact I’m certain of it, but my opinion is based only on my own experiences.

I was always a tomboy when I was growing up, preferring to climb trees and generally do dangerous, challenging and muddy things outside rather than play at tea-parties and dolls. Not that I didn’t like wearing pretty dresses! I still remember the battles I had with my mother (between the ages of 4 and, oh, 18?) when I wanted to wear my best clothes out to play in, and she knew they’d come back covered in mud, permanent paint, and generally completely destroyed. Being sporty and active, getting straight back up if you fall over, even if your knees are bloody, having strong opinions, subverting or ignoring societal and fashion rules… these maxims are what make a tomboy, and in the world we live in today none of these prevent you from also being feminine. Nevertheless, if you’re looking for company, it’s usually going to be boys who want to risk their lives for adventure and build dens all over the place.

I do have a handful of close female friends these days, but they’re all tomboys in their own way. They’re tough. And I love them for it. I’ve found them all over the place, often in the strangest places, so we’re not a gang as we’re all very different people on very different journeys. We all demonstrate characteristics that society typically positions as being very male though, and I think we understand each other better as a result of sharing these. Our drive, our eagerness to try new things, our ability to switch off our emotions in order to get the job done, the fact that we typically prefer male to female company!

Tom was very surprised by this side to me when we first met, and I think he still struggles to get his head around my being more comfortable hanging out with his male friends than with other women. I just find them easier to talk to! They’re not playing games, or being driven by neurosis; they won’t take offense at my many unintentionally-offensive comments, but see the intended humour instead. My gang-that-isn’t-a-gang of tomboys are the same, but we’re thin on the ground. Girly-girls often seem perplexed by us, even frightened. My instincts tell me that we’re doing just fine being ourselves, but I am vaguely curious about the benefits of being one with the sisterhood.

I’ve been organising my ‘hen do’ recently with my maid of honour (well, I’m organising it, she’s sort of cheering me on), and the issue of girls-only came up. We paused for a moment, a little stunned to realise that there wouldn’t be any men present (male strippers will NOT be invited, as I’m keeping the precise address we’re staying at under lock and key. Unless Steve Backshall wants to pop in for a cup of tea. And then, you know, if he wants to strip that’d be okay). Then I realised that, actually, I’m sort of looking forward to being part of a girl-gang, just for a weekend! I’ve never done it before, so maybe it’ll be fun?! Katy looked at me suspiciously when I voiced this thought.

One point that struck a chord from D’Souza’s article was voiced by Laura Bailey, regarding her dependence on “a virtual creative female sisterhood via Instagram”, which provides, amongst other more utilitarian benefits, “support for a friend’s cause or a new business venture, and [says] I like what you stand for, I like your style, I like your pictures (I just like you)”. Women are the experts at this form of support. Not that we need validation for who we are, but it’s quite nice isn’t it. I see this in blogging all the time, when likes and thoughtful comments are left by people you’ve never met. They’re not just left by women though; many of the detailed and thoughtful comments I’ve been sent were from male bloggers.

What do you think? Do you have a girl-gang, or does the very idea make you run for the hills? Do women provide each-other with a very special kind of support, or are we stronger as individuals? Are we giving support to strangers more readily today than the internet-is-the-death-of-society brigade would have us realise?

Having gadded about the country for a bit, Tom and I booked ourselves into a Landmark Trust property in deepest Devon for the last week of our holiday.

We discovered the Trust last year, and delighted in staying in the 16^th century Swarkestone Pavilion for a weekend. No internet, no TV, no immediate neighbours… absolute heaven. We chose Shute Gatehouse near Axminster this time as it’s a bit bigger (it sleeps five), and being starved of space in our otherwise-lovely little London flat can get quite trying. It’s a very different kind of luxury to the hotels we’ve been staying in recently. More spartan, obviously, and Tom has been trekking over the not-inconsiderable hill to the nearest village every other day for supplies, but just as lovely in a different way. It’s wonderfully relaxing to be so isolated, and to have complete agency over our time.

Before arriving, however, we didn’t have time/ forgot to read the information pack, so spent one freezing night wrapped in blankets and staring at the smokeless-fuel-only wood-burner (there was no smokeless-fuel provided), and then a second freezing night wrapped in blankets staring at the it-only-lights-with-fire-lighters-you-idiots fuel we’d bought (we didn’t read the instructions on the smokeless-fuel either, so didn’t get firelighters). Finally, on our third day, we united smokeless fuel and firelighters and got the wood-burner cheerfully flickering with warmth.

Here’s me drinking a mug of very strong Devon coffee, very, very happy that I finally managed to get the fire lit.

(Skirt from Really Wild, jumper French Connection, shoes Hobbs)

Tom finally managing to usurp me in front of the fire.

We also finally managed to get a photo of the two of us together where we don’t look like serial killers. Which is a plus.

I’ve spent a considerable amount of time staring at the ceiling so far. Not out of yellow-wallpaper madness, but because it is captivatingly beautiful. Although the gatehouse was built by William Pole in 1560, when he bought the nearby Shute Barton, the Jacobean plasterwork that currently adorns the ceiling was acquired more recently from the North Devon County Council. Don’t worry, it was taken from a house in Barnstaple that had been demolished in the 1930s, it wasn’t ripped from a National Trust house on the sly. “So… how long would it take to do that?” Tom asked, feigning an innocuous tone. Sigh. “I could do it. It’s only plaster. But it would take me a long time to perfect the design, and I’d have to look into the process of creating moulds and securing it to the ceiling as I don’t know enough about it” I replied. “Oh, that’s alright – you’re good at that sort of thing” he responded. I guess I’ll be ornately plastering all the ceilings in our house when we finally buy one then. Could be worse.

By daylight

By lamplight. Apparently the pomegranates, roses and thistles symbolise the newly united dynasties.

Anyway, to celebrate the long-awaited immolation of our bricks of desiccated peat (smokeless-fuel), we decided to head into Axminster to have lunch at the River Cottage Canteen. A pilgrimage, and one which did not disappoint.

Tom and I are big fans of Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall’s River Cottaging exploits. Particularly the early series, A Cook on the Wild Side, in which he transformed a landrover into a travelling kitchen, flirted his way around the UK and slept under a boat. This was TV gold, and should not readily be forgotten, as these were the days when Hugh was experimenting with youthful, wide-eyed enthusiasm, and his meals often turned out wonderfully shit. It’s great watching him eat them.

Hugh with a fish (image source here)

His focus on conservation, organic produce and back-to-basics philosophy really appeals to us, and I’ve often mentioned his recipes and ideas in former blog posts (though of course I’ve given them my own twist.) As we happened to be staying nearby, therefore, we decided to pop in.

River Cottage Canteen and Deli is located in bustling Axminster. The space is airy and light, and the metal lighting-frame suspended above you contributes to a sense of being in a particularly clean barn (a barn also full of cider, which sounds like the best kind of barn doesn’t it). The menu was varied, and impressed us both, which is pretty good considering we are a carnivore and a vegetarian-who-eats-crustaceans team.

For a starter I went for the Portland Crab on Toast, Boiled Egg and Tartare Sauce. It looked great when it arrived, crisply presented and a nice combination of colours and textures, and it tasted even better. Tom had the Higher Hacknell Ham Hock and Fava Bean Broth, which disappeared before I even had time to enquire after it (it was good, evidently). For a main I chose the Double Baked Goats Cheese and Walnut Souffle, with Spiced Celeriac, Pearl Barley Broth and Parsley Pesto. It was almost too good; mind-blowingly well thought-out and detailed for a vegetarian dish. Tom had two starters for a main course, the Portland Crab on Toast and a Smoked and Cured Venison with Hazelnut and Apple Dressing. Despite preferring his meat red Tom actually favoured the crab dish, which is testament to its excellence. Although I enjoy good food I’m really not a ‘food person’, so I’ll sum it up without being too effusive : every aspect of the meal – the flavours, the textures, the presentation, the service – was of the highest quality.

It’s a beautiful part of the country, and will be even more spectacular when the floodwaters recede. Hopefully before too many more buildings are swallowed by the rising tide.

You might also like:

We’ve finally had the last of the wedding rsvps back, so I thought I’d do a quick post on the invites I designed. If anyone else out there is a fan of stationery, read on!

This was the first thing I did, over a year ago when we first set the date. I’m sure most brides go straight for The Dress, but I was definitely more interested in anything I could stick in an envelope and put a postage stamp on. I think I looked at every single wedding invitation on the Internet, to get an idea of the options and expectations.

Once I’d decided on a design, I spent hours trying to find the right patterned wrapping-paper online. This was less than fruitful. Why there isn’t a website collating all the wrapping paper for sale in the world I just don’t know – it seems to be one of those few things you still have to source in person. I toyed with using wallpaper as there are some beautiful floral patterns out there, but when I popped into John Lewis to have a closer look I realised that the patterns are all too big, and lack detail or definition close-up. By chance, I came across a gorgeous pattern in Liberty (not available online). Although I hadn’t intended to incorporate blue it was the prettiest I’d seen, so I couldn’t resist.

I then created a spreadsheet of all the guests we’d decided to invite, and asked Tom to fill in his half of the addresses… then spent the next twelve months trying to bully and cajole him into actually doing so. Boys, eh.

Anyway, a year later I got round to actually making the invites. The silk ribbon had to be exactly the right shade of spring green, that I’d found years ago on a market stall and set my heart on for the bridesmaid dresses. I sourced it from V V Rouleaux, along with a brown leather ribbon to frame the wording inside. Silk ribbon is about five times the price of satin, but definitely worth it – it’s so much easier to work with, and has a gentle lustre rather than a cheap shine. I also purchased antique-gold charms from Beadworks in Covent Garden – they’re labelled as pansies, but look more like dog roses to me. The card and envelopes came from The London Graphics Centre, and are the colour of old parchment; they reminded me of the year I spent studying Renaissance literature when I first met Tom. I also sourced the pearl detailing here, as they come pre-sticky, so are much easier to apply.

The magic ingredient? Double sided tape. I discovered this recently, and it was an absolute godsend for securing ribbon, paper, card and leather. I’ll never be without it again. Nearly fifty hours of measuring, cutting, folding, gluing, printing, taping, sewing and sealing later… and I was finished.

The invitations are the first glimpse of a wedding that guests see, so I wanted ours to say something about us, without being too fussy. I hope you like them!

You might also like:

Spring is definitely in the air in London. As good an excuse as any to go shopping I thought!

I do love floral patterns against a black background, and floaty tea dresses are perfect when the weather warms up and the wind subsides. I found this dress in Urban Outfitters, and cinched it in with a plaited leather belt (shoes from Hobbs, sunglasses Ralph Lauren). It looks quite different depending on how you style it; boho-chic with oversized shades and loose curls, or dressed up with a ballerina bun and smart black jacket. Which do you prefer?

(I lost the black jacket so you’d be able to see the dress properly, but it looked very nice I promise!)

The bronze-antler necklace was another spring purchase, this time from Spitalfields market (definitely my favourite market). It’s available online here, though they’re not advertising the bronze chain that came with mine – I’m sure you can request this though if you prefer it to the leather or gunmetal chain available.

I’ve been stealthily filling our flat with spring bulbs as well, as a man appears regularly near our house with a big van full of them. This sounds a bit sinister… tempting young women in with pretty flowers… but he’s very nice!

Blue hyacinths

White hyacinths and narcissus

What purchases does spring inspire you to make?

You might also like:

I’ve referred to my ‘hen do’ on occasion for clarity’s sake, but really it was always going to be a stag do. Plump, feathery, pecking, egging hens are not something I feel any affinity with, I’m afraid. Stags though, well; stags are cool aren’t they. Then a couple of my female friends had to pull out at the last minute so, not exactly reluctantly, I invited Tom and a load of boys along.

I know, I know, we were supposed to be trying the girl-gang thing, but it just didn’t work out!

And we had the BEST time.

I was careful not to try and fit too much in over the weekend, or we’d have ended up rushing everywhere and exhausted by the end of it. We still managed to do a lot though, so I’ll split the weekend into separate posts.

We got the train from Kings Cross to Edinburgh Friday morning, and arrived late Friday afternoon (Scotland is very far away). James was waiting outside Edinburgh Waverley for us with our Landrover, which was very, very exciting. I have a little bit of an obsession with Landrovers, and could think of no better excuse to hire one than a weekend in Scotland. James was very professional and friendly, and I’d recommend his company (link here) wholeheartedly. Poor Hannah was our designated driver, which she regretted rather when she caught sight of the bridge she’d have to manoeuvre across every day.

First glimpse… looks fine to you?

Aaah, now you see! Hannah did the most amazing job driving over a frankly alarmingly high and narrow bridge in a vehicle built like a massive rhino, so the tiny wheel-guard scrape we incurred (which James was very nice about) can definitely be forgiven.

Such a bridge must be guarding something pretty special though, I bet you’re thinking, and you’d be right. Welcome to Rosslyn Castle! It was mainly built around 1450, and is located on a tree-covered spine of rock rising steeply from the River Esk, which surrounds it on three sides. Apart from the surrounding ruins the central building looks fairly ordinary from the outside, but is truly spectacular once you walk through the front door. It really was the most amazing place I’ve ever stayed – decorated not in the usual anodyne style, but like a real country house. Wood panelling, tapestries, open fires… heaven.

The entrance hall

The drawing room. It’s even more impressive than it appears in this photo, as it’s a large square space so difficult to do justice to. Very atmospheric, and very beautiful.

There’s also a stunning dining room, private walled garden, a whole floor of bedrooms above (it sleeps seven, one double, two twins and a single room) and multiple levels of dungeons below! After running around squealing in delight for a bit we unpacked, had a nice cup of tea, then got out the stage make-up and prosthetics.

The plan for the evening was fancy dress, of course. I went for literary heroes as a theme, authors or characters, and my wonderful friends took to it with gusto. We had Virginia Woolf, Titania, a cross-dressing Poirot, Dr Jekyll, a confused-magician David Copperfield, Hunter. S Thompson and, er, Victor (who went as a famous Norweigan bard/duellist, from memory, but I can’t spell it). My cousin Bekky hadn’t got the email about fancy dress so we found her a Snow White outfit in Sainsburys for children, which she somehow managed to fit into.

My Titania outfit was fairly simple, but I’d happily wear it every day if I was allowed to. The dress is from Leon Max, the feather collar was made for me by V V Rouleaux (a Christmas present from Tom), and I got the black contact lenses online. To complete the look I put a serious amount of super-strong hairspray in my hair, and blow-dried it upside down for that authentic dragged-through-a-hedge-fairy look. I was going to make a headdress using some antlers I bought online, but they didn’t arrive in time unfortunately.

Still, I was pleased by the end result!

The dress is on sale online, but isn’t available in Leon’s Notting Hill store (as Katya and I discovered when we popped in the other day). It’s very easy to wear – both flattering and comfortable. (I come up as a UK size 8 on the online size-guide, but having tried another dress on in-store decided to gamble and order a 6, which fitted perfectly.)

I also asked everyone to come up with a cocktail each, though I think a few had to missed out in the end! I made strawberry and rhubarb margaritas, as I thought tequila would be a good addition to the evening, which seemed to go down pretty well (recipe to follow in another post). We played charades for the rest of the evening, boys versus girls of course, and the girls definitely won. Avatar nearly stumped us, but The Importance of Being Earnest nearly did for the boys, and had the rest of us in hysterics.

David Copperfield added photographer to his many skills

Virginia Woolf and her Strawberry Bellinis

Dr Jekyll and his Dirty Russians

Poirot and his Whisky Macs

My gorgeous Australian cousin Bekky, who travelled all the way to Scotland even though she could only spare 24 hours before flying off to give an academic paper at a conference, and got glitter in places glitter is not meant to go.

Titania and Dr Jekyll. A good match, non?!

Titania and the boys

… and, er, Titania falling over. Ahem.

Tales of horses, guns, dungeons and dinner parties to follow soon.

You might also like:

I’ve been away for over a month, sorry, but I do have a very good I-got-married-excuse and I’m back now! The wedding was lovely, no disasters, and we’re getting the photos back early next week which I am very, very excited about. I’ll write about it all properly soon, but in the meantime I thought I’d share with you the wedding website I made for all our guests.

We wanted to make the trip to Cornwall as easy and as fun as possible for everyone, so there are pages on accommodation and travel in the area, as well as things to do and places to eat out. Oh and a page of gift ideas, which is my personal favourite. It’s a private site, set up for one user only to view, so you’ll need the following details to log in.

1) search online for http://ourcornwallwedding.wordpress.com/

2) Type in the username: jadeandtom.wedding@gmail.com

3) Type in the password: Mylor2014

Any comments please do put them on this blog, rather than on the wedding one – let me know what you think!

I’ve been away from this blog far too long, and I’ve missed it. I’ve missed chatting to all the wonderful bloggers that I follow and who are sweet enough to follow me as well, and I’ve missed sharing all the things I get up to. They’re always the more fun for being able to share them with you!

Inevitably, I have to start with my wedding. I suppose this post will take the form of all the other wedding blogs you’ll come across, but I’ll try to keep it as short and sweet as I can.

The first thing I have to say is that organising it was the biggest bloody nightmare in the world, and Tom and I worked ourselves half to death in the few months before it. It was worth it, yes, but only just! My 130 hour working weeks genuinely nearly killed me, and the day before the wedding I was bordering on hysteria more times than I can count. Thankfully my Thomas is the kindest and most wonderful man in the world, and our friends and family are both incredibly giving of their time and an absolute blast to be around. Between them, they just about kept me sane.

Errands frantically completed the day before the wedding included buying 400 second-hand books, tearing along tiny country lanes to try and find the only shop in Cornwall that stocks speciality liqueurs (I’ll explain later), and driving for over an hour to Penzance to collect Tom’s wedding ring, then driving all the way back as fast as possible so we could actually attend our own wedding rehearsal. We arrived back at Scorrier House around midnight, and I got my laptop out to send about a hundred emails, and write a 2000 word assessment report I had to send to a client.

Anyway. Deep breaths. I woke early, and peered out at the mist rolling across Scorrier’s beautiful grounds. Scorrier is a privately owned manor house set within a 400 acre estate, and the lovely Richard and Caroline hire it out for weddings. It’s not the prettiest building from the outside, but the interior is beautiful, with a sweeping staircase at the centre of the ballroom. My bridesmaids soon arrived, and Tom disappeared to get ready with his brothers at a cottage next door.

We spent most of the morning sitting around drinking champagne that my maid of honour Katy had purloined from somewhere, but it was nice to stop rushing around for the first time in six months. I did my own makeup, but local stylist Megan Piekarz put my hair into a vintage-inspired up-do, and also added just a bit of polish to my bridesmaids. I was particularly keen that they all looked very natural, and she did a wonderful job.

The bridesmaid dresses were from Coast (no longer in stock I’m afraid), and I was incredibly lucky to find them. It was the first dress we looked at in person, and the perfect shade of green (there are many imperfect shades of green, but this one was perfect). I also wanted them all to wear strings of freshwater pearls, so ordered these online from Etsy. They hardly cost anything at all, but they were exactly the look I was after.

Katy helping

I wore my mum’s wedding dress, which she’d transported backwards and forwards across the world for me since she married my father in Papua New Guinea. It was handmade for her in Australia, and I remember admiring the delicate Brussels lace it’s made from when we lived on Nauru, more than twenty years ago now. “You can wear it when you get married” she had said, and it really means a lot to me that, finally, I actually did get to wear it!

I had a few alterations made, by the absolutely wonderful Lindsay Rodham. Trekking backwards and forwards to Walthamstow for fittings was definitely worth it, as she made everything I wanted possible, when countless other seamstresses had said it couldn’t be done. She added lace to the length so I could wear heels, removed the collar, and added a sash to the waist so I actually felt like I had one, and made it feel completely ‘right’ for me where it hadn’t before.

My shoes were from Hobbs, and literally the only style I could find in the world in the right colour, heel height and width (no stilettos allowed on Scorrier’s antique wooden floors). Here’s a picture of me grimacing at them as Katya helps me into them. They looked better on, to be fair, but as my dress was floor-length I wasn’t that worried anyway. I found that you absolutely have to prioritise with a wedding. Decide on what is most important to you, and focus on that; you cannot give your full attention to every tiny little detail.

Here’s Tom ‘getting ready’ (doing a Tai Chi Chuan workout)

More ‘getting ready’ with his brothers Jim and Luke, who were joint best man.

My beautiful bridesmaids, from left to right: Stella, Katy, Hannah and Katya. I’m very, very lucky to have all of them in my life.

The flowers were done by Georgia Westwood. I liked her style, but also that she is a set designer as well as florist; the theatrical side to her work really appealed. We were going for a slightly fantastical ‘Spring Woodland with Antique Books’ theme, to combine our love of books and the countryside, and I was confident that she’d be able to turn my rambling and often contradictory ideas into reality. She did an incredible job, both on the bouquets and the ballroom decorations, but you can see that from the photos!

Tom, Luke and Jim walking down to St Mylor Parish Church

I’m not particularly religious, but I’ve wanted to get married in St Mylor Parish Church as long as I can remember. As I grew up overseas, my parents brought me to Cornwall as often as they could so my grandparents would see me growing up. Walking along the creek or through the fields and woodlands nearby had a huge impact on me, and we’d always look in on the church and harbour behind it. It’s full of childhood memories for me as well as being mere metres from the sea, and is a very old and beautiful church. I was delighted that Tom was happy to get married in it as well, and even more delighted to find out we were allowed to as I’d been baptised there.

Putting on fern and bluebell buttonholes

It actually rained all morning, to my slight dismay. Mist turned to a gentle but persistent drizzle, and emergency umbrellas were found. Just as we arrived at the church, however, the sun burst through the storm clouds! We didn’t sort out transport to and from the church until the day before the wedding, but luckily Tom found a vintage Rolls Royce for us at the last minute.

I was surprisingly nervous on the way to the church, desperately hoping I hadn’t forgotten anything, but seeing our friends and family gathered together in the church was one of my favourite moments of the whole day.

Husband and wife, finally!

Some of my Australian relatives who travelled a very long way to share the day with us, for which I will always be grateful.

After the ceremony we drove back to Scorrier House, and made time for oysters and champagne before the formal family photos. We copied friends of ours who had chosen to have canapes in lieu of a starter course at their wedding, and this worked perfectly as well as balancing out the cost of all that champagne! Our caterers Beetham Food put on a range of canapes as well as the oysters we requested. Crab Cakes & Tempura Prawns with Sweet Chilli Dip, Smoked Salmon Bilinis with Dill Crème Fraiche, Yorkshire Puddings with Rare Beef & Horseradish Cream, and a variety of croutes kept everybody happy. Never skimp on food or alcohol at a wedding. You want your guests to enjoy themselves (plenty of alcohol) but not get drunk (plenty of food).

It was quite chilly outside, so our photographer Debs Ivelja did a great job of hurrying through these! I chose Debs as her portfolio was not just the usual reportage shots, but focused instead on capturing the drama in intimate moments. Exactly what I think a wedding should be. She and her assistant Sarah took nearly 1000 photos for us, and Debs has been wonderful to deal with throughout the whole process.

Chilly bridesmaids

Tom and I with my grandparents and my parents

Tom and I with his slightly more extensive nuclear family!

I was desperate for the bluebells to flower in time, as they’re my favourite spring flower. Again we were lucky, and they were absolutely everywhere.

The grounds of Scorrier were perfect for capturing the feel of our wedding. We were surrounded by greenery and spring blossoms, and it was clear to all our guests why we’d chosen to get married in Cornwall. Even if they did all have to travel very far to join us!

It was such a wonderful day that I thought it best to split it into two separate posts. Photos and details of the wedding breakfast, cocktail hour and swing dancing in my next post.

Heading inside Scorrier after the formal photos felt like the second phase of the day was beginning, so it seemed right to tell you about it in a second blog post.

I couldn’t have been more pleased with the table decorations. Georgia Westwood and her sister Jessie Thomson, our wedding planner, made them look absolutely beautiful. I hired a lot of vintage glass bottles, but I also sourced a selection of pewter and ceramic jugs and teapots from the antique shops in Rye, and Tom and I also bought hundreds of secondhand books from Falmouth.

We really couldn’t have managed without our wedding planner Jessie. Her advice and planning expertise meant that the day ran incredibly smoothly, and actually felt like one long party rather than having gaps where guests are standing around waiting for something to happen. She suggested and then liaised with suppliers, made sure I hadn’t forgotten any of the thousands of details and decisions that are involved in a wedding, and kept an eye on our budget for us. I’d definitely advise engaging a wedding planner, even if they just advise and supervise as we requested rather than doing everything for you.

As Tom and I met when we were both studying Renaissance Literature at university, we used EEBO to find the title pages of an appropriate selection of Renaissance plays. We had A Pleasant Comedy, All Fools, An Almond for a Parrot, The Shoemakers Holiday, The Island Princess, The Alchemist, and of course A Midsummer Night’s Dream for the top table. We downloaded these, and I printed them on ‘parchment’ coloured card for the table names.

I also used Microsoft Paint to edit them (serious computer skilz, I know) for the table plan above, so that each included the names of our guests in lieu of a cast-list. I used a sheet of wrapping paper for the table plan’s background that I found in the British Library’s gift shop, depicting Early Modern London, which I thought was an appropriate reference to our lives in London.

Given our love of old books, Tom and I spent the months before the wedding trawling through charity shops across the country for wedding favours, and gave each guest a different book to remember the day by. I had a stamp made reading ‘Jade & Tom, Cornwall 2014′, and stamped the first page of each. I also made all the placenames and menus, again using parchment-coloured card and left over pearls and wrapping paper from the invitations.

The Wedding Breakfast itself was perfect. The caterers we chose were Beetham Food, and Jamie was nothing but helpful and accommodating throughout. We were allowed three main course options for our guests to choose from, and the cheese buffet we’d requested for later in the evening was presented as a stunning cheese cake. Everyone commented on how incredible the food was, and how friendly and professional all the waiting staff. Menu below:

Main Course

Whole Sirloin of Beef, Medium Rare, cut thickly and served with a Béarnaise Sauce

Seafood Bouillabaisse with Saffron & Aioli

(Crevettes, Crab, Lobster, Hake, Mussels & Clams)

Roasted Vegetable Stack with Pan Fried Haloumi & Red Pepper Coulis (v)

Trio of Dessert

Pavlova with Summer Berries & Clotted Cream

Rich Chocolate Mousse with Raspberry Coulis

Zesty Lemon Cheesecake

Evening Food

Cornish Cheese Wedding Cake

Served on slates with Chutneys, Fruits, Celery & Crackers

Although I admit I was more interested in the cheese than the actual wedding cake, I must mention Faye from The Natural Cake Company. She uses only natural ingredients, something that means a lot to me, and her cakes are both delicious and edible works of art.

After the wedding breakfast, we had a little surprise lined up for our guests. An old school friend of mine happens to be a successful mixologist, so as a wedding gift he very kindly agreed to invent three cocktails tailored to our wedding, and serve these at a cocktail hour after the wedding breakfast. I only have ONE photo of them unfortunately, which is a shame because they were stunning as well as being delicious! The May Day Tea was served in vintage cups and saucers, and was my particular favourite, though the Spring Collins was the overall winner in terms of flavour. I have since tried to recreate it, and failed utterly. Stan is evidently a miracle worker.

Stan and another old school friend, Liam, setting up cocktails next to the gramophone

Cocktail Hour Menu

May Day Tea

Elderflowers, raspberries, grapefruit, rose petals, vodka, apple liqueur, limoncello, cloudy apple juice, lemon juice and Everingham honey (served hot)

Fragola Granita

Champagne and wild strawberry liqueur

Spring Collins

Gin, fresh basil, radishes, gin, lemon juice and cherry syrup

Spring Collins on the left, and Stella holding a (non-alcoholic, I’m sure!) May Day Tea

My beautiful girlfriends, resolutely pretending not to have had any cocktails at all. Ahem. I changed into a navy-blue lace Diane Von Furstenberg dress for the evening, and of course the pearls I usually wear.

The cocktail hour certainly put everyone in the right mood for the next part of the day. The dancing.

Tom and I were not exactly looking forward to this. We wanted a song that reflected the party atmosphere of the evening, so chose Benny Goodman’s Sing Sing Sing for our first dance. Regardless of the fact that it’s very difficult to dance to, as it’s very fast. Not that this was a problem though, as we engaged Jerome Anderson to teach us how to dance in two weeks. He happens to be Lindsay Rodham‘s partner, the lady who altered my wedding dress, so we were in very safe hands. He teaches in a wonderfully holistic way, making the most of our strengths and minimising our flaws. We just about managed to pull it off!

My dancing shoes were bought online from Chelsea Crew, who specialise in vintage-inspired styles

We did the first minute and a half on our own, then my bridesmaids and Australian relatives joined in. Sam and The Swing Empire, our live Jazz band, were fantastic. I had been more worried about the first dance than anything else on our wedding day, and suddenly realised the day before that maybe our guests wouldn’t be as enthusiastic about dancing to Jazz as us, but the dancefloor filled up for the rest of the evening. It made such a difference having a live band. We would never, ever have had a DJ or just an ipod playlist, as there’s something incredibly exciting about dancing to live music. It’s an obvious way to save money, but we wouldn’t have done without it.

I think that was my favourite part of the day actually, the dancing. The fact that everybody joined in, and had such a good time, was absolutely magical. Tom and I have had so many wonderful times together, but our wedding day was definitely the best day so far.

You might also like:

It’s so rare to get all of our closest friends together, and we love them all so much, that we took them on honeymoon with us.

I know that isn’t quite traditional, but we’re sort of used to doing things our own way. (My stag party was evidence of this, as most brides-to-be don’t take their fiancé along on their hen-do, so you shouldn’t be surprised!) We decided to stay in Cornwall for the first week of our honeymoon rather than rushing straight off. A few of us rented a cottage together in Flushing from Martin at Creekside Cottages, and everyone else made sure to stay nearby.

I forgot to take any photos of the cottage but it was lovely, and perfectly located; just around the corner from the Flushing ferry and opposite the village shop. Most importantly though, it had its own decking that led directly onto the sea. It was our own fault really that we were invaded by Northern pirates.

I really don’t think these two are taking the invasion seriously enough, to be honest

Though they soon summoned the troops

Rob quickly defected, and joined us on land

Having no other means of defending ourselves, we were forced to deploy scraps of bread into the air to lure in a mob of seagulls. Mick was not happy about this.

We had dinner at a different restaurant each night, from the Pandora in Mylor to the Cornish Range in Mousehole, and there were around twenty people sitting down together each time. It was just the start we wanted to married life. We both have a number of different friendship groups, whether from school, university or work, so seeing them all meeting and getting on was fantastic.

We went on a few cliff-top walks and enjoyed the spectacular views, as well as getting a bit of climbing in. This is just around the corner from Mousehole; St Michael’s Mount in the background

Yes, I’m climbing a cliff in a tweed mini skirt. No, it was not easy.

We also enjoyed the Maritime Museum in Falmouth. It’s very child-friendly, so we had a great time

We also spent a lot of time on ferries and water taxis, which are a fantastic way of getting around Cornwall. The ferries have fixed routes and times, but the water taxis will collect you any time, and drop you off anywhere there’s a jetty.

Here we are, all enjoying a water taxi together

It sort of looks like everyone had different expectations of that particular day out. Expectations that were NOT being met.

The best day was definitely the beach day. We got a water taxi across to St Mawes, stocked up on picnic items and champagne, then walked across the headland. When we arrived at the top of the cliff, we found that the path down to our favourite secluded beach had, er, fallen into the sea. Some enterprising locals had tied a rope to the bushes though, so we abseiled down. Being the only people stupid enough to do so on that particular day, we had the entire beach to ourselves. Heaven.

We drank champagne and sunbathed on the rocks

I got a bit more climbing-in-a-skirt practice in

We went swimming in the sea (freezing, but exhilarating!), then polished off our picnic in the sunshine. Once the champagne had run out and the sun was beginning to set, we made our way back across the headland. Lush spring hedgerows lined the dusty lane, and verdant rolling fields stretched to either side. A water taxi collected us, and dropped us off at our cottage.

Getting to spend the first week of our honeymoon with our friends was an experience we’ll always treasure. The memories will stay with us for our whole lives, though of course we plan on repeating the event as frequently as possible! That wasn’t quite the end of it though. Did I mention that my Tom is pretty wonderful? Once or twice maybe. Well, he’d organised another week’s honeymoon for us, but we needed our passports for this one. More details in my next post!

You might also like:

After a week in Cornwall with our friends, we popped back to London, then flew straight on to Florence!

I visited Florence once before, with my drama group when I was sixteen. I loved it then, and vowed to return; but I didn’t realise I would do it in quite such wonderful circumstances. Tom and I stayed at Palazzo Guadagni, a Renaissance palazzi that has been converted into a hotel. Formerly a grand private residence belonging to a wealthy 16th century family, it is not only completely charming but located in the Santo Spirito neighbourhood, which is much quieter than other tourist-filled areas and also renowned for it’s antique and artisan boutiques.

We listened to La Traviata a lot. I really could not have been happier.

The loggia, now converted into a ‘rooftop garden’ (bar) that overlooks the city centre and Florentine hills beyond. I would like a loggia please.

Reading on the loggia after breakfast

Posing on the loggia at sunset

The rooms were spacious, far more so than any of the 5* hotels we’ve stayed in, and we spent a fair amount of time admiring the view across crooked terracotta rooftops. My only complaint about Italy is that it’s very difficult to get champagne anywhere. You’re forced to drink prosecco, and I can’t stand the stuff. Sorry Italy. We managed to buy a bottle of champagne nearby though, and the hotel were good enough to bring us an ice bucket and champagne flutes (prosecco flutes?), so we could enjoy it on the ‘rooftop garden’ one evening.

Our room was at the top of the palazzo, and whilst there was a creaking lift Tom preferred taking the stairs. When the stairs are as pretty as these I could hardly complain though.

It’s a long way down

The elegant private-entrance to Palazzo Guadagni

We spent a lot of time simply exploring the streets of Florence, admiring the architecture and wandering into boutiques and galleries we came across. I do think this is the most relaxing way you can explore a city, and you get a far better sense of its soul than if you simply follow the other tourists. Occasionally we would stumble across the main thoroughfares, and recoil in horror at the madding crowd.

The whole city seems to glow a warm, golden colour. I couldn’t help but suspect that the warmth of Tuscany would pervade even when it rained.

The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore

My absolute favourite boutique was Maurizio Salici. We came across it one evening on our way home, and it beckoned to me like a magical toyshop. “We can come back tomorrow!” Tom promised, dragging me away. The window display alone was enough to lure me in; its carefully crafted clutter of antiques, ornaments and books had me transfixed.

We did indeed return the next day, and I wandered around blissfully. My eye was caught by a trinket from the 1700s, when pieces of coral were attached to wooden lion’s feet (the lion being Florence’s heraldic symbol thanks to the Medici family), and gifted to newlyweds as good-luck charms. Maurizio Salici doesn’t usually allow photography, but as I, er, bought it, they suggested I might like to take just one photo of it in the shop before it was wrapped up. So I did, of course!

The shopping in Florence in general is delightful though, and I was guided by Louise Fili’s little book ‘The Civilised Shopper’s Guide to Florence’. She took me to artisan chocolate shops like Dolceforte, seventeenth century perfume shops like Officina Profumo Farmaceutica Di Santa Maria Novella, and Scriptorium, which sells everything for the lover of handmade books and calligraphy.

There are too many wonderful things to see and do in Florence for me to tell you about everything, but I must show you the Boboli Gardens. The wealthy and powerful figures of the Italian Renaissance competed to illustrate their status through increasingly spectacular gardens, and a few of these still exist today. Monty Don’s BBC series on Italian gardens is an excellent introduction, and he is invited into many gardens as exclusive today as they were in the Renaissance, but the Boboli Gardens are actually open to the public.

Your tour-guide Tom will show you around

Neptune and heron

Tom and I spent a very enjoyable half hour hunting the lizards that have made their home in the walled garden, to the horror of all the other tourists there

For seven euros you can spend as long as you want exploring these beautiful gardens. They’re well maintained, and different areas lead you cleverly onwards to discover a multitude of grottos, statues and temples. They cover 111 acres in total, and overlook the Pitti Palace, the main seat of the Medici grand dukes of Tuscany in Florence.

Oh, and there’s a nice cafe as well. Which is very important, I’m sure you’d agree. Here’s a picture of Tom looking at the menu in front of some lemons.

I really do love Florence, and it was a perfect continuation of our honeymoon. Tom’s organisation skills were not limited to one Italian city, however. The wonders of Venice beckon…

I’ll show you around in my next blog post!

You might also like:

Venice is a little bit like Rye in East Sussex, in that it’s very beautiful and feels very old, but a Rye surrounded by a lagoon and packed full of Americans.

Technically Venice consists of a group of 118 small islands, separated by canals and linked by bridges. You don’t really get a sense of this though. The canals are always in use, water taxis and gondoliers gliding along them at all hours of the day and night, so they resemble aquatic roads rather than barriers to movement. The extensive network of bridges also means that you’re rarely stuck on one side of a canal when you’d rather be on the other, and the meandering path you’re often forced to take only adds to the charm of Venice.

The water taxis are outrageously expensive, but worth it if you have suitcases with you. Just be prepared to part with fifty euros for a ten minute journey if that’s how far you’re going. They are of course a lot of fun as well. We shouldn’t forget that!

Beautiful, beautiful Venice

Tom had rented a concierged apartment for us, so we jumped into a water taxi outside the train station that took us right to the front door. It was not as atmospheric as Palazzo Guadagni, but it was quiet and private, and close to but not right in the crowded heart of Venice. Despite the crowds in the centre, as soon as you manage to escape them you’ll find yourself almost completely alone. Tom and I spent our first day wandering around San Polo, and hardly saw another soul.

Most of Venice gives the distinctive impression that it is crumbling, in a completely beautiful way. Plaster has been eroded away by the elements, painted wooden shutters are peeling and flaking, and even some of the buildings are subsiding, as if desperate to sink beneath the waves to escape the modern world.

From a distance it is merely picturesque. Elegant and in proportion. When you look closely though you realise how stunning it really is. Architecturally sublime.

Venice is particularly famous for its masks, as it perpetuates its own Renaissance tradition of an annual Carnival. There are shops selling them all over the place, and though a lot have similar stock I would suggest checking each one if you’re particularly keen on masks like me, as there are always slight variations in the designs of the proprietors; you’re bound to find something unique if you keep looking.

The most famous square, the Piazza San Marco, functions primarily as a tourist trap these days. Though it’s worth a look I wouldn’t stay too long. We sat and had a drink only to find other tourists photographing us, so we soon left. We avoided Basilica de San Marco and instead made our way to Basilica di San Giovanni e Paolo. It is actually the principal Dominican church of Venice, and after the fifteenth century the funeral services of all Venice’s Doges (elected leaders) were held here. Twenty five doges are buried within the basilica, and there are a number of medieval and renaissance wall tombs set within the vast space. It also contains many beautiful funerary monuments and paintings, and a foot of St Catherine of Siena, the church’s chief relic. Despite this, it’s often overlooked. Luckily for us. Quiet and peaceful, we whiled away an afternoon searching for Catherine’s foot.

No flash photography was allowed, so the photos I took came out as being a little more atmospheric than I intended, but they certainly give you an idea of the scale and grandeur of the basilica

There are restaurants and cafes all over Venice, hoping to lure in the weary and indiscriminate, but I would definitely suggest asking for recommendations rather than leaving where you eat to chance. I should also add that you absolutely must make dinner reservations in Italy. Not just because the best places are often booked up days in advance, but because it is part of the culture. Without a booking restaurants will inevitably try to seat you by the door, toilets or kitchen even if they have plenty of free tables.

Hotel reception staff are happy to advise and make bookings for you, so make the most of this. The concierge at our apartment was incredibly helpful, even going so far as to mark out his favourite restaurants, cafes and gelateria on a map for us. Two particular favourites of ours were Osteria di Santa Marina and A Beccafico. The first of these served up an incredible seven course tasting menu, each dish a carefully crafted morsel that combined and balanced its ingredients perfectly. They also tailored the menu specifically to our tastes, replacing dishes we didn’t favour with ingredients that we did. It was just wonderful.

The food at A Beccafico was simpler fare but still excellent, and the service really stood out. We avoided revealing that we were on honeymoon to anyone, as we were wary of any sort of fuss spoiling things for us, but the staff here treated us so well we may as well have told them. They were friendly and attentive, offered to take photos of us together, and brought us a whole bottle of limoncello after our meal at no extra charge.

Yes, it was a full bottle when it appeared before us. Yes we enjoyed it!

Venice at Night

We visited a number of galleries and museums, all bursting with ancient marble, Byzantine gold and other treasures, but I had to share one in particular with you. We actually stumbled upon it one evening when wandering aimlessly through the backstreets, and vowed to return when it was open. Palazzo Mocenigo houses a museum dedicated to the history of Venetian fragrance. There are twenty room to wind your way through, all furnished with antiques, oil paintings and curiosities aimed at illustrating the different aspects of a Venetian nobleman’s life between the 17th and 18th centuries. Valuable ancient garments are displayed on mannequins, the fabrics, embroidery and lace embellishments testament to the the refined elegance Venice was famed for. Each room tells a different story, paintings and ornaments helping to construct the narrative, but what I had really been drawn to was the perfume.

Renaissance Venice turned scent into an artform, and there are five rooms in Palazzo Mocenigo entirely dedicated to it. Both informative and sensory, the history and reality of perfume are thoughtfully illustrated. One room evokes the alchemical laboratory of a 16th century perfumier, in another is a collection of perfume bottles dating form the Middle Ages to the present day, but in my favourite room there is a table covered with herbs and spices. The magical raw materials of perfume.

I would like a room like this. Huge bowls full of frankincense and myrrh, sticks of cinnamon, lavender and star anise, gleaming black vanilla pods, and the more unusual musk from animal glands or ambergris (a solid, flammable substance of a dull grey or blackish colour that is produced in the digestive system of sperm whales). There are also 16th century books on display (and in electronic translation) revealing the secrets of the art of perfume. Part cosmetic, part medicine, part magic.

Finally though, it was time to leave.

Our final water taxi, taking us to the airport (jumper Henry Lloyd, lace skirt Ralph Lauren)

When we left Venice, our taxi driver got into several shouting matches with the other boats as we made our way through the congested canals. When we reached the open water he chucked an empty pizza box over his shoulder into the water, swore at the city, and proceeded to drive twice as fast as all the other water taxis trundling towards the airport. The horrified faces of drivers and their passengers swept by us in a flurry of spray, as we bounced, delighted, across the wakes of all the boats that had preceded us.

We came back to reality with a bump when we returned, forced to dive straight back into work that is only just starting to ease off enough for us to catch our breath, four months later. It wasn’t all work though. I’ve got a few stories to share with you about dolphins, lochs and mountains!

You might also like:

The Liebster Award, and The Versatile Blogger

Ten Interesting Christmas Gifts

Birthday Cocktails at The Gilbert Scott Bar

Riding in Rivers and Afternoon Tea With the Brontës

Impressed by the Prestonfield

The Imaginarium

Gang Warfare: The Sisterhood Versus The Tomboys

A Devon Writing Retreat, and the River Cottage Canteen

Handmade Wedding Invites

Spring Outfit: Vintage Roses and Bronze Antlers

My Stag Weekend: Fancy Dress, Cocktails, and a Private Scottish Castle

Riding in Scotland and a Dinner Party at Rosslyn Castle

Shotguns and Scottish Mist

Rhubarb and Strawberry Margaritas

WordPress Wedding Website, or a Guide to Cornwall

My Cornwall Wedding: The Church Ceremony, and Champagne & Oysters amongst Bluebells

My Cornwall Wedding: The Wedding Breakfast, Cocktail Hour and Swing Dancing

Honeymoon Week in Cornwall

Honeymoon Week in Florence

Honeymoon Week in Venice