THE NEW FOREST

Woke a little later today.  Made tea and lazed around a bit with The Observer, both provided by the hotel.  Breakfast in the dining room--very pleasant and quiet, with a nice exchange with an elderly couple celebrating their 64th anniversary.  Beats us by quite a few!

To help us with plans for the day, the young woman at the reception desk provided us with ample directions to "Bolton's Bench," near the village of Lyndhurst, whence we had planned a long hike in the "forest"--much of it turns out to be moor land, but that's England for you: always an odd word for something it doesn't quite describe ("public" schools, for example, or the "new" forest!)... Anyway, despite the careful directions, we got lost on the way to Lyndhurst, and lost again on the way from Lyndhurst to Bolton's Bench.  Oh, and we got lost again on the hike.  Map in hand, we managed the first mile or so, past the cemetery--hard to miss...

... but must have lost the trail because we soon found ourselves back on soggy, marshy ground...

... without a path in sight.  Is it just us, we wonder, or are English directions as obtuse as the language (sometimes) is?

Still, it was a lovely walk...

Ellie in the gorse

The weather held--it was pretty much overcast, but there was not a drop of rain--and we found some good people along the way to point us in the right direction.  The vegetation looked mostly wintery, except for the yellow gorse and the emerald green grass everywhere around us.  The "forest" loomed ahead of us, and at one point in our walk we left the open moorland and strolled amongst the trees.  Mostly, though, we were blustered by a friendly enough, but coolish breeze and gazed upon by dozens of the famous wild ponies...

... as we struck out across the landscape and headed back toward the church spire in the distance--a handy landmark.

Back on the road, we got lost again--these narrow backroads can be thoroughly confusing, and the road signage is such that you find out too late that you should have taken the turn you were looking for.  Our intention was to head next to Beaulieu, but we must have missed a turn because we ended up instead at Exbury where there's another wonderful rhododendron garden.  It turned out to be very crowded and seemed a bit Disneyland-y, so instead of entering the park we had a quick (and rather disappointing) sandwich outside, then dusted off our feet and headed off to the parking lot.

Undecided what to do next, we decided to give Beaulieu a try--all these villages are very close to each other--and found it to be a much more charming village than we had anticipated.  We were greeted by donkeys everywhere, strolling around the streets as though the place were theirs...

I guess it is, as much as ours--and bought an ice cream before heading off on a narrow path...

... around the lake...

... to the famed Beaulieu park and its National Motor Car Museum.  Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, now approaching his nineties, has been a car nut all his life and has more of these mechanical marvels than Jay Leno back home.  Lacking very much time by this point, we took the monorail and passed through the car museum, taking pictures from above...

We stopped by the ancient Abbey of the Kings...

and walked through a fascinating small museum that commemorates the work of secret military agents during World War II.  We spent more time in the house itself, still lived in by the elderly Lord and Lady Montagu but largely open to the public.

It's a charming mansion--if "charming" is the right word for a mansion.

Huge, well-proportioned living spaces...

... on each of the two floors that we visited, with many art nouveau additions...

... to the original Victorian (I think) building, both in the furnishings and the architectural design.  Wonderful light-filled spaces, quite different from the gloomy halls you so often find in the "stately homes" of England.  Best of all, it really felt like a family affair--even though an ancient and privileged family--with lots of photographs and portraits, and printed comments and memories by Lord Montagu himself.  All in all, a pleasurable surprise.

The staff were nice enough to open a gate to allow us a short cut back to the village (not realizing the distance, we had taken the very long walk out to the estate) for which we were duly grateful.  We found ourselves beside the tidal river along with a few donkeys, one of whom noticed the plastic bag in which I was carrying a slab of Kendall Mint Cake we'd bought at the gift shop.  This stuff is practically all sugar, and I was unwise enough to break off a small piece for the donkey--who immediately became my friend for life...

... and would have pursued us all the way back to the parking lot were it not for the intervention of another couple who managed to distract him.

A glimpse of Beaulieu village across the lake

Back to the car for the relatively short drive back to the hotel.  Dinner (Sunday, of course) was roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.  Plus more than a few delicacies on the side.  Finishing up with a raspberry soufflé with chocolate ice cream and a glass of exquisite dessert wine.  A good job, I think, that this was our last night at the Terravina!