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What a difference the day makes
Feb. 8th, 2004 07:55 pmI've been to Plymouth twice. In 1999, it was raining and grey, and I was with my father and brothers; we visited the aquarium, wandered around a little on the Hoe, and despaired at the city centre (aesthetics mostly thanks to Hermann Goering, I think, though Munich made a much better job of rectifying Arthur Harris's similar efforts).
This weekend, it was sunny, and I was with Chiara; my thoughts were mostly of how the whole layout of the city on the harbour reminded me of Sydney, how the white-painted grey-stone buildings glinted in the sunlight, and how nice it is to walk around a large headland looking out to sea from both sides of the ridge; Mount Edgcumbe House is still shut for the winter, but the gardens are quite impressive, and Chiara was most entertained to discover the idea of follies. We got to see one of Her Majesty's aircraft carriers in port, resplendent in grey with disgustingly vivid-orange lifeboat covers.
The train journey there is impressive, and would be more impressive still at high tide with a gale blowing - the railway from Exeter to Newt'n Abbot runs right along the sea wall, passing in tunnels through the headlands.
Plymouth's city centre is still an object of despair, though walking around the harbour and watching small sailing boats going round and round was quite fun; despite much search we failed to find the fish-market, so ate nice chicken fajitas on Saturday evening.
I don't think I have ever found a city pretty enough to redeem being seen in the rain, nor one so hopelessly ugly as to be irredeemable in the sunshine. Possibly this means I'll be a little disappointed when I get round to visiting Dublin.
This weekend, it was sunny, and I was with Chiara; my thoughts were mostly of how the whole layout of the city on the harbour reminded me of Sydney, how the white-painted grey-stone buildings glinted in the sunlight, and how nice it is to walk around a large headland looking out to sea from both sides of the ridge; Mount Edgcumbe House is still shut for the winter, but the gardens are quite impressive, and Chiara was most entertained to discover the idea of follies. We got to see one of Her Majesty's aircraft carriers in port, resplendent in grey with disgustingly vivid-orange lifeboat covers.
The train journey there is impressive, and would be more impressive still at high tide with a gale blowing - the railway from Exeter to Newt'n Abbot runs right along the sea wall, passing in tunnels through the headlands.
Plymouth's city centre is still an object of despair, though walking around the harbour and watching small sailing boats going round and round was quite fun; despite much search we failed to find the fish-market, so ate nice chicken fajitas on Saturday evening.
I don't think I have ever found a city pretty enough to redeem being seen in the rain, nor one so hopelessly ugly as to be irredeemable in the sunshine. Possibly this means I'll be a little disappointed when I get round to visiting Dublin.
