A Day With Friends in the Suffolk Countryside

Thursday, June 18, 2009
Iken, Suffolk

I set my alarm for 7.00 this morning as I couldn't risk waking up too late. I had a 9. 38 am train to catch from Liverpool Street Station and not being familiar with this station, I wanted to give myself ample time to get there by bus and pick up my train ticket that I had booked on the phone two days ago (20 pounds round trip). I was excited as I had been invited to spend the day in the countryside with my friends Paul and Loulou (in whose London loft I am currently residing) who farm a vast land holding near the Alde River on the East Anglian coast.

The train journey was lovely. I read a copy en route of The English Home magazine (the Christmas 2008 issue, if you can believe it!) but once the city landmarks disappeared behind us, I abandoned it and enjoyed the sight of the countryside spread out under a Constable sky. Big fluffy clouds smeared the bluest skies but the sun shone full and golden upon the passing fields. Loulou was awaiting my arrival at Wickham Market station (a journey of exactly 2 hours) in her spiffy grey Mercedes sport car and off we went.

The Church of St. Botolph's:
Our first stop was at the Norman church of St. Botolph's where Loulou happens to play the voluntary role of Warden. She had a minute's errand to run there which left me enough time to survey this place of pilgrimage. Not only is the church picture-perfect (it combines a thatched roof, a square Norman tower and a more modern portion in the same building--the first time ever I have seen a church with a thatched roof!) and has some interesting interior features such as a timbered roof and a medieval marble font. It also has part of a Saxon cross preserved inside. Services are still held here regularly and the place reminded me very much of an episode in Midsomer Murders entitled The Bell Ringers. Up in the loft, I could see the ropes from which the bell-ringers actually hang as they ring the bells--the ones in this church are very valuable as they pre-date the Reformation.

Back in the car with Loulou behind the wheel, I took in the simple rural pleasures of the Suffolk countryside. Mile after mile of cultivated farmland passed us by along the narrowest ribbons of road--most untarred and mostly sandy. Having farmed in these pastoral environs for over twenty years, Loulou is familiar with the crops grown on this soil--barley and rye and potatoes--and she identified them individually. Tiny villages tucked away in the golden waving fields enchanted me, some sporting the famous Suffolk pink on their walls (which Loulou informed me were once created by diluting paint pigment with pig's blood!)--Ah the strange old ways of rural folk!

Stanny House Farm:
In a short while, we arrived at Stanny House Farm, the country estate owned by my friends, a sprawling parcel of Suffolk countryside that left me gasping. Loulou did the wise thing and gave me the grand tour in stages--starting with her gardens (which I was most keen to see for she is a keen gardener). Our first stop was her vegetable garden, a neatly designed space enclosed within red brick walls and featuring a variety of lettuces, broad beans, tomatoes, herbs, Swiss chard, etc. all of which she snipped quite handily and threw into her trug as she went along in order to concoct a salad for our lunch. For it was nearly lunch time and Paul had left his office (all of twenty steps away!) to come and join us in the lovely conservatory where we sat down to eat.

The meal was simple but so delicious--I mean how can you go wrong with home grown produce picked fresh off their stalks, right? The addition of tuna and some hard boiled eggs and crisp asparagus and a balsamic vinaigrette that I whisked up, meant that we had ourselves a Salade Nicoise served with multi-grain bread and butter and a selection of cheeses for afters. Dipper, their ageing bitch, joined us at the table and gratefully received the tidbits that Paul passed her. It was the very essence of English country life and I felt as if I had strayed into one of the features in the Homes and Garden magazines I read. How delighted I was to be a guest at this charming table.

Lunch done, Loulou took me for another walk--this time around her flower gardens. I climbed the picturesque red brick Millennium Wall along the stairs and over the Rockery that she has created from old salvagaed stone and filled with rare succulents. Indeed her perennial beds delighted me and before long, we were taking a longer tour to the outhouses and thatched-roof barns that comprise the property, converted into office space, entertainment space, etc. I met Denny, the gardener, who works hard with Loulou and Paul to keep this massive property in shape just as earlier I had met Linda, the housekeeper who has worked on the farm for over twenty years. During our tour, Loulou provided so much information about their collection of art works centered around medieval alabasters, sculpture and paintings and it was fascinating in every respect. In-between, we paused to admire and talk about their Polynesian sculptures and their modern British oil paintings.

The Unlikely Reunion of A Portrait and a Sword:
We spent a great deal of time in the hallway of their home where a striking portrait of a British colonial officer on horseback being eyed by his three red-clad infantrymen caught my eye. It turned out to be a painting of Paul's great-great-great grandfather, a Lt. Gen. Littler, Deputy Governor-General of Bengal, depicting him on the Battlefields of Ferozepur in 1845--i.e. just before the Great Mutiny of 1857!

Knowing my deep interest in Indo-British history, Loulou took the time and trouble to tell me the story about the manner in which this painting came into their possession--and indeed it made my hair rise! The painting, depicting an ancestor on Paul's maternal side, had been passed down to members of his family and was taken for lost (though Paul and Loulou had seen pictures of it and were aware of its existence). One day, purely by happenstance, the two of them were in Sotheby's in London when Loulou spotted the painting and knew that it was the one depicting Paul's ancestor. In excitement, she pointed it out to Paul who then bid on it and brought the painting home. So that was Part One of this exciting story.

But it does not end there! It was when they were hanging it upon the wall in the entrance hall of their Suffolk home that Loulou (she of the eagle eye!!!) noticed once again that the good general was carrying a sword in his hand that most uncannily resembled the one that had been passed down to Paul by his family members and which she had gifted to her own son Jack! In fact, the sword was somewhere in Jack's room upstairs!

Needless to say, Loulou sprinted upstairs, found the sword, held it against the one in General Littler's hand in the portrait and was convinced that she was holding the exact same sword in her own hand!!! Of course, they then framed the painting in such a way as to have the sword, sheathed well in its own scabbard, hanging from the bottom of the painting. This story was so mind blowing that my knees felt weak on listening to it and I really felt as if I had to sit down right there on the stairs leading up their bedrooms!

What I loved, most of all, was the completely understated manner in which this treasure trove was presented to me. Loulou's completely unassuming and very modest ways were totally disarming and I marveled at them even as I was deeply touched by them. She and Paul were nothing if not casual. While there are extremely rare pieces sprinkled about the house, it is fully and completely lived-in and nowhere did it appear to me like a museum at all. This, I think, is the home's biggest triumph--that it exuded the down-to-earth spirit of its occupants with the most genuine sincerity and not the slightest iota of boastfulness. How goes the old saying? Old money whispers, it does not shout! That was what I most loved about Stanny House and its inhabitants. I felt deeply endeared to it and to them even though I was visiting it for the very first time.

Helmingham House and Gardens:
Then, we got into the car again and Loulou took me on another delightful drive--more farms, more fields, more villages--to Helmingham House and Gardens, a place that she simply knew I would love. About a half hour away from her place, the property comprises a grand Elizabethan mansion (a private house which cannot be visited) surrounded by the most beautiful gardens that are kept open to the public for a fee of 5 pounds each. Loulou has been to this place several times and knew exactly where to take me. Indeed, these gardens were amazing and I took so many pictures.

The star attraction for me was an incredible clump of salmon pink poppies, the size of which I have never seen in my life. They were as large as peonies (of which there were many in different colors), as tall as my waist and in my absolute favorite color. I could not stop exclaiming over them. The herbaceous borders are so well tended and so superbly coordinated in terms of color and texture that I could tell that an expert had conceived of them and created them. It turns out that most of these gardens are fairly new as the current owner is a passionate gardener who has done a great deal to develop the gardens and very generously opens them up to the public.

The property also comprised a rose garden and an Elizabethan Knot Garden (in keeping with the design of the house which is itself a beauty what with its typically interesting Tudor brick designs on the wall, its multiple chimneys and its moat that encircles the property at two levels). As if this sense of space and grandeur were inadequate, the estate has its own herd of white spotted fallow deer and there were several of them not far from the house at all. In fact, a few fawns were rather close to the gardens (though safely fenced far away!).

After pausing to examine the rarer specimens of the collection, Loulou and I needed a tea break and we took one in the Garden Tea Room where we enjoyed a really good cup of tea and a slice of Coffee and Walnut Cake--the third day in a row that I have indulged in this newly-discovered English treat (at Sissinghurst, Polesdon Lacey and now here at Helmingham!). Then, because it was almost 5 pm and I had a train to catch and Loulou and Paul had a dinner date to keep, we left the premises.

But Loulou was still keen to show me other parts of the area and took me for a long drive towards the coast through entirely different terrain that compromised forests known for their bird and wild life. We arrived at the coastal village of Orford which reminded me so much of Southport and its marina that I lost no time at all taking pictures of the sailing vessels in the estuary. It was all quite delightful indeed!

Back at Stanny House, the three of us and Dipper set out on a lovely walk through the farmland to spot bee orchids that have recently sprung up in their grasslands--but the property is so vast that we had to drive to get to this particular field. I made the discovery that both my friends are keen naturalists and have an abiding love for birds and other creatures, not to mention flora. They are so excited that orchids have naturally taken seed on their property! As we walked, Paul, binoculars slung around his neck, looked for and spotted a number of birds incuding a white barn owl that soared in the distance. Indeed, their excitement was infectious and I had a truly marvelous afternoon in their company for I learned so very much on a subject about which I am truly an ignoramus--Natural History. I missed Llew sorely as I know that his own interests as a naturalist and his great love for birds would have thrilled him so much in these wide open spaces. If we are ever in England together, I would love to bring him back to this unspoiled curve of the East Anglian coast. As we walked through waist-deep grass dotted with spiky thistle (much to Dipper's annoyance), I simply had to pause to take more pictures for I have never had this superbly bucolic experience before.

Then, it was time for them to hurry home and get dressed for their dinner appointment. They dropped me off along the way at Wickham Market train station and whizzed off. I boarded my train, five minutes later, and spent the two hour long journey (with a change at Ipswich) recalling the incredible day I had enjoyed in their lovely company. I have to say that Loulou did not send me back empty handed--there was Bibb Lettuce and Arugula (what the English call 'Rocket') in my bag and a charming bunch of the most fragrant sweet peas from her garden.

Regular readers of this blog will know that I have felt deeply blessed all year--ever since I arrived in London. But, on my way back to Denmark House, I could not help thinking that my biggest blessing this year has been the amazing range of English friends I have made and the manner in which they have taken me to their hearts and shared the uniqueness of their lives with me. Paul and Loulou are two of those great blessings and for that I feel truly grateful.

Back at Liverpool Street Station at 9. 45 pm, I hopped into a bus that brought me home in less than twenty minutes. I put my sweet peas in cool water and prepared for bed, deeply happy about the unusual and very interesting day I had spent in Suffolk.