Sunday, 22 July 2018

IKB

I've never really been one for stately homes. At least not in England. I've been to a fair few abroad but - after a childhood where I was regularly dragged around National Trust properties - I've been to maybe two as a grown up, and they were both for weddings. 

I broke that duck in a big way this weekend. Blenheim Palace. The so-called greatest palace in the UK (which seems a bold statement) and jeepers creepers was it expensive? Do all stately homes cost that much? Holy moly. 

They lured me in with art, there were a lot of Yves Klein's blue bobbins scattered amongst the history. I enjoyed the juxtaposition plus wondering what you would have thought if you had just been there to see eighteenth century old stuff. 

Talking of juxtapositions, after exposure to the aristocracy we camped on a pig farm. The Pig Place had pigs, beer and bacon and generally was somewhere that suited me much more than the Woodstock estate. 

Also went to Oxford proper for a look at them there dreaming spires. I never knew Oxford had a castle - it's like I learned nothing from His Dark Materials.

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