Timed tickets booked and paid for in advance are a bit tricky when you have to drive 180 miles to get to the place in question, especially when part of that journey involves the M25, where I spent a happy four hours in stationary traffic with my sons and our dog back in May.
This time, though, all went to plan, and as I drove across the easternmost end of the South Downs to Saltdean, I began to imagine that my daughter, Jenny, and I might even complete an ambitious itinerary that involved a visit to Alfriston Clergy House, followed by a pub lunch, followed by the all-important timed ticket at Monk's House, the rural bolthole of Virginia and Leonard Woolf at Rodmell.
Alas. It turned out the A27 south of Lewes was closed for the weekend because of roadworks, the traffic along the coast road was worse than anything I'd ever seen in the height of summer, and our eleven mile drive to Alfriston was going to take an hour, according to the sat nav. As we approached a Sainsbury's Local in Peacehaven, I turned down a side street and hastily parked. Time to get some emergency rations in case the pub lunch was off.
Eventually we reached the ridiculously quaint village of Alfriston, and made our way from the car park, along the River Cuckmere to the Church of St Andrew, a large cruciform building constructed, it's thought, during the 14th century on a pre-Christian site, of flint and all in one go, by persons unknown.
...and this more modern dial, about which I could find out very little, other than there appears to be an indentical one in nearby Alciston churchyard. Maybe they are waymarks for a modern pilgrimage.
The interior of the church is spacious and airy, the walls covered with peeling whitewash. Apparently there are mediaeval murals underneath. It would be so good to see them, but, I suspect, costly to have them uncovered and preserved.
I was so taken by this beautiful old house, mainly because unlike many mediaeval houses with huge draughty halls, it's on just the right scale to imagine living there.
The garden is also Arts and Crafts-inspired, and structurally very pleasing, although, of course, we were visiting at the wrong time of year for much in the way of colour.
We then set off for the village of Rodmell, eleven miles away in the neighbouring valley of the River Ouse, but again the traffic was very heavy and we resigned ourselves to not getting a pub lunch; in fact, we only just made it to Monk's House by 3pm.
Once inside, I was immediately reminded of Charleston, the house seven miles away that belonged to Virginia Woolf's sister, Vanessa Bell, with its paintings, tiled fireplaces and decorated furniture commissioned from the Bloomsbury Group, although in this house visitors are permitted to take photos.
In spite of the difference
in eras, wealth and class, there was a moment when I felt Virginia and
Leonard Woolf might have been kin.
The house is a lot older than it appears, at least from the outside. It was actually built in the mid-16th century, and I really loved the brick steps that show the passage of many feet.
Virginia's bedroom
In Virginia's writing room at the bottom of the garden, something ethereal was happening with the light,which illuminated her chair and the balls of screwed-up paper on her desk ...
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