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We called into Downtown Abbey (aka Highclere Castle) on our way to Bristol. It was goosebump inducing to see the familiar turrets rising up out of the green countryside. Although we had seen only one other car as we wound up the lengthy driveway, when we reached the paddock that serves as carpark we were dismayed to see eight coaches and what looked like a hundred parked cars!
Tickets for the house, gardens and Egyptian exhibition cost about 16 pounds each. Since the House was so busy we began in the Egyptian exhibition, which turned out to be fascinating. Highclere has been owned by the Earl of Carnavon's family for generations and one of the previous Earls was co-discoverer of Tutankhamen's tomb in 1922. The exhibition in Highclere's basements details the story of how the Earl came to be interested in Egyptology, his partnership with Howard Carter, and their magnificent discovery. Part of the exhibition has been set up to replicate part of the tomb and the artefacts discovered within - fabulously painted furniture, models of the young pharaoh hunting, a golden throne, weapons and jewellery, silver trumpets, and the pharoah's mummy itself, with a golden death mask. (All replicas as the originals are in Cairo).
After the intriguing visit beneath Highclere, we returned to the front door where the crowds had thinned enough for us to begin making our way through the rooms of the great house which are open to the public. These include most of the rooms used for the TV series such as the saloon with its grand staircase (where Lavinia busted Matthew and Mary dancing), the formal dining room (where the wonderful Maggie Smith has delivered many a cutting remark at the dinner table), and Lord Grantham's study (where I kept expecting Carson to shoo us out)! Upstairs a number of the pretty bedrooms have also been used in the series (including the red wallpapered room where Mr Pamuk stayed!)
Interestingly there are family photographs belonging to the owners of Highclere positioned on numerous tables we walked by and we couldn't help but notice that some of them also featured members of the royal family!
Due to a rare appearance of some sunshine overhead, we were able to enjoy a stroll through the gardens. Lovely as the tidy shrubs, hedges and flowerbeds were, it was the expansive lawn which was most idyllic - the Brits really do make the most of humble grass!
It was early evening when we arrived at our hostel in a rough looking area of Bristol. Dale managed to expertly park the car in one of the least manoeuvrable carparks we have come across yet, and then carried our bags up two narrow flights of stairs to our room overlooking the neighbouring scrap metal yard - isn't travelling the world glamourous?!! Nervously we walked up the street in search of a meal - steering clear of the working man's pub with a rowdy bunch of tattooed, baggy jeans wearing, young men swaying outside. Past a grimy fish and chip shop and a parked ute with seagulls pecking at the rubbish on the tray, around the schoolyard with weeds growing through cracks in the asphalt and rubbish blowing against a wire mesh fence, and between the rows of cramped, gloomy flats, until we emerged at 'The Spotted Cow'. It didn't look like much on the outside and there was a large bouncer at the door, but inside was a cheerful modern bar area and only a few spare tables. We sat down near the fireplace containing a white candelabra ablaze with around 12 candles and ordered Dale's favourite beer - Hoegarden Weiss beer - and my favourite Sunday roast - beef with Yorkshire pud. The food was excellent - Dale declared it the best roast beef he'd ever eaten - and the beer was poured generously! We did notice that the men of Bristol prefer to shave their heads, which seemed strange given the chilly air temperatures here, but despite the slightly intimidating appearance of the men seated at the table next to us it turned out they were all doctors!
The weather the following day was back to its usual nastiness, with pelting rain as we drove down to the docks area of Bristol. Our destination, perhaps unwisely given the weather conditions, was the SS Great Britain. One of the earliest steel hulled ships, beginning the transition from sail to steam, she is now sitting in a dry dock and has been converted into a museum. We were able to walk beneath the ship and get an interesting perspective looking up at the mighty propeller and the rust pocked hull. The ship has worked as a luxury liner, a passenger ship for immigrants to Australia, and as a merchant vessel. The inside of the vessel has now been set up to how it would have appeared as a liner, with first class dining room, promenade and cabins, the Captain's cabin, the ship's doctor's surgery, engine room, ship's stores, kitchen, steerage berths, and even a cow to provide first class passengers with milk and cream during the voyage. There was certainly a gulf between the standard of accommodation provided for first class passengers and that available to the steerage passengers. While the first class cabins looked tight and uncomfortable to our modern eyes (the bunks were barely 50cm wide), steerage was much much worse. There was no privacy to be had among the rows of bunks, it was dark, and with the only visible bathroom facilities the chamber pots under the beds...the smell must have been awful! Suddenly our grungy Bristol hostel didn't seem so bad!!!
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