There are certain holiday memories that stay firmly cemented in our psyches. Being the youngest child . . .
Introducing the latest addition to the Lodestars Anthology travelling family ... Japan! This issue has now sold out.
Journey to Japan and discover a land of tea and tropics, wabi-sabi and wonder. A place where symbolism abounds and nothing is without purpose. For here you’ll find an ancient and powerful landscape that has shaped history yet still dictates the rhythms of modern life. There are illuminated capitals and pockets of untouched wilderness, both marked by a deep sense of spirituality. Art flourishes, design inspires and others come first. May the light never dim on the Land of the Rising Sun.
None is travelling
Here along this way but I
This autumn evening
Here at Lodestars Anthology we love a beautiful travel journal as much as the next person (a lot more so, probably). So imagine how happy we were when we chanced across Cornwall by Weekend Journals, a definitive guide to exploring the fairest English county which features unique and special venues, from verdant gardens to visionary galleries, independent shops and exceptional restaurants. The book is written by Milly Kenny-Ryder and produced by Simon Lovell, who both have strong links to Cornwall, and have been visiting with their families since they were young. Using these connections they have gone off the beaten track to discover the venues that the locals love, while also showcasing some of Cornwall's most iconic sites and stories. For a hint of what this edition of The Weekend is all about, read on, and be inspired by all that Cornwall has to offer (or click here to order a copy).
St. Tudy Inn
Emily Scott is an ambitious and optimistic chef who took over the St. Tudy Inn, determined to offer locals and visitors great food in a delightful setting. This charming Cornish pub is situated in St. Tudy, a quaint village in North Cornwall. After extensive redecoration the pub feels cosy and welcoming, with Nicole Heidaripour prints on the walls and vintage furniture.
All Emily’s cheffing experience has been put to good use in the kitchen, where seasonality and local produce reign. The menu is full of comforting classics with a twist, such as the fish and chips, upgraded to the irresistibly tasty Monkfish tails in rosemary focaccia crumb with fries and citrus mayo. The St. Tudy Inn also runs regular events, including Pig and Cider nights with a hog roast and regional ales, so there's many an enticing reason to visit.
St. Tudy Inn, St. Tudy, Bodmin, Cornwall, PL30 3NN
01208 850 656
Surfside is an exciting venture from London-based mixologist Tristan Stephenson, author of The Curious Bartender and part of the drinks company Fluid Movement who founded Purl and The Whistling Shop bars in London. Surfside has become a local hit, serving fresh food and cocktails at the water’s edge in Polzeath. Located on a corner of the beach, the restaurant is only accessible via the sand which adds to the experience.
Although the venue appears casual from the exterior, inside the offerings are for serious foodies with surf and turf platters and inventive cocktails. Thanks to the isolated location Surfside feels intimate and exclusive, with panoramic sea views adding something special to the meal.
Surfside Restaurant, On the Beach, Polzeath, Cornwall, PL27 6TB
01208 862 931
Trevibban Mill & Appleton's at the Vineyard
Situated on the slopes of the Issey brook near Padstow, Trevibban Mill is one of the newer Cornish wineries but is already producing award-winning wines. Liz and Engin began planting in 2008 with an ambition to produce top quality Cornish wines and ciders. Native sheep graze on the land and their wool is for sale in the vineyard shop. Tours and tastings can be arranged to sample a range of the different wine and cider varieties.
Also on site is Appleton’s at the Vineyard, where ex-Fifteen head chef Andy Appleton is managing the kitchen, feeding hungry visitors with fine Italian dishes showcasing the local produce. Choose from a beautiful piece of sustainable fish, or a bowl of comforting pasta. The dishes provide the ideal accompaniment to a glass of Trevibban Mill wine.
Trevibban Mill & Appleton's at the Vineyard, Dark Lane, near Padstow, PL27 7SE
01841 541 413
Hidden Kitchen is a supper club and culinary concierge serving unique food to its St Ives clientele. Located on the corner of St. Andrews Street, in the centre of the historic town, it is easy to miss this understated dining room. Chef James Watson and his wife Georgina worked together in the catering business before opening their first venue. The intimate dining experience in the boutique restaurant makes it feel like a dinner party at a friend’s house.
James regularly plays host to visiting chefs who provide diners with constantly changing, exciting international cuisines. Guest chefs have included Gordon Ramsay student Lee Skeet and Japanese cook Naoko Kashiwagi. After the meal leave a message to show your appreciation on the blackboard tables.
Hidden Kitchen, The Masonic Lodge, St. Andrews Street, St Ives, TR26 1AH
07792 639 755
There are more and more promising independent coffee shops in Cornwall; Espressini on Killigrew Street in Falmouth is one of the best. This characterful venue serves a bespoke blend of beans sourced and roasted by Yallah Coffee, selected specially for them from growers around the world. Inside, the café is cosy and familiar with mismatched antique furniture, and the chatter accompanied by a thoughtful playlist. The coffee is bold in flavour and served to your preference. Brunch is particularly popular with a menu of tempting and indulgent dishes displaying a wide range of influences from world cuisines.
Nearby, on Falmouth harbour, is Dulce, the smaller sibling of Espressini which, as well as offering freshly brewed coffee, sells equipment to help you make the perfect cup at home.
39 Killigrew St, Falmouth, TR11 3PW
Photographs by Tom Bunning In winter our thoughts turn to candlelit rooms and warming fires. But Tom Bunning's photography reminds us that the cold comes in many guises and draws our gaze to Icelandic landscapes - the waterfalls, the birds wheeling under eggshell blue skies and the endless snowbound vistas. Be warned though, if you venture out into the cold, you may not come back again...
This week the Canada issue of Lodestars Anthology - officially released in the UK on October 18 - will be avalible through our online store. So we thought we'd celebrate by sharing some of the wild and wonderful images and illustrations that fill the pages of issue 6. Thank you as always to our truly spectacular contributors - the world is indeed filled with some rather talented beings. You can order the magazine here.
About the magazine: Canada is a land where lakes glow, mountains soar and island life prevails. Wild, rugged and unfazed by time, luxury resides in unexpected corners, cities delight and outdoor adventure beckons, for nature is indeed all around. You yearn to explore, to get lost, to reconnect with a pristine beauty so hard to encounter in the modern world. The seasons astound - from frozen winters to summer’s never-setting sun - while waterfalls carve canyons, rivers become frozen highways and people smile, aware of their heritage and all that this land has gifted them. You’ll find snow and maple syrup, art and architecture and a landscape both inspiring and eternal. Greetings from the Great White North.
Some featured destinations:
Clayoquot Wilderness Resort Fogo Island Inn Vancouver Toronto Montreal The flavours of Canada Cosman & Webb maple syrup Left Field Brewery Canoe North Adventures The Yukon in winter Northwest Territories Nova Scotia Halifax Lobster Boil Ontario wines The Canadian Rockies Prince Edward Island Calgary The Canadian
With our England magazine now sold out we thought it was only right to share one of its stories - a celebration of the country's best pubs. To avoid missing any other back issues, pay a visit to our store by clicking here.
Words by Tom Goble & Illustrations by Emily Fernando
With their ghostly inhabitants, unexpected pasts, famous patrons and general eccentricity, English pubs are decidedly brilliant.
The English pub is a marvellous thing, in fact I’m writing this introduction from one (The White Hart in Sevenoaks since you ask). Come rain, shine or old-fashioned drizzle, a good English pub will restore you. It’ll warm your cockles, quench your thirst and satisfy your need for quirkiness.
Maybe it’s because I’m an Englishman, maybe it’s because I like a drink, maybe it’s because I speak the unquestionable truth, but to me it seems the English do pubs like no other nation. Very few countries have drinking establishments so tied in with their national identity; meaning any number of fascinating pubs could have found their way into this article. On that note, apologies if your particular favourite has been omitted. I’ve attempted to offer a snapshot of the great and the good of English drinking dens. For every interesting story I describe, there are thousands of others from pubs and inns up and down the length and breadth of the country that I might have chosen. The Philharmonic in Liverpool that inspired a young John Lennon, The Eagle and Child in Oxford that counted J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis among its clientele and The Haunch of Venison in Salisbury, which was used by Churchill and Eisenhower during the D-Day landings, are just some of the many I could have picked.
So if you take anything from these ramblings, I’d like it not to be that these are England’s best eight pubs, but rather that England is blessed with some magnificent places to have a drink; and so I’d encourage you to get out and explore them all (sensible drinking is advised, but by no means compulsory).
Fitzpatrick’s Temperance Bar & Emporium
I’ll tell you the problem with pubs – they’re not a lot of good if you don’t like drinking. Sure they’ll serve you an orange juice and packet of crisps, but any publican worth his salt (and vinegar) will be thinking “Uh-oh! We’ve got another weirdo teetotaller Mildred (his frumpy fictional wife)”. But wait, there is a solution.
Mr. Fitzpatrick’s Bar is the UK’s last and only remaining original temperance bar. Serving a heady selection of herbal drinks, cordials and mocktails to the alcohol-intolerant inhabitants of Rawtenstall in Lancashire, Mr. Fitzpatrick’s has proved quite a draw, with visitors coming from across the globe to sample this quaint snapshot of Victorian Britain.
The temperance movement (one foot in front of the other please sir) began in 1835 in Preston amid concerns about the Industrial Revolution’s equally industrial levels of alcoholism. And although prohibition was never formalised in the UK in the same way it was by our supposedly sober cousins in 1920’s America, a wave of non-alcoholic bars began popping up in most towns to guard against the dangers of heavy drinking.
Although their reach was nationwide, temperance bars found their strongest foothold in the Northern industrial towns, some of the most famous of which carried the Fitzpatrick family name. Originally a family of herbalist Dubliners, the Fitzpatricks established themselves as one of England’s foremost purveyors of Dandelion and Burdock, Blood Tonic and Cream Soda and their empire grew to include more than 40 bars.
The final remaining bar retains many of its original fixtures and fittings, including the ceramic tap barrels and shelves lined with jars of medicinal herbs, and might well be credited with a bit of a revival in ‘dry’ drinking venues. Alcohol-free bars have been turning up with increasing popularly, particularly in London with Redemption and Sobar serving only soft drinks and proving very popular with the after-work set and health- conscious alike.
So popular has the dry drinking culture become in the UK that the proprietors of the Rawtenstall temperance bar have opened a new sister establishment in nearby Chorley, Lancashire. The simply named Temperance Bar serves many of the same cordials and mocktails and its owners hope that temperance bars might once again be a regular feature on most English high streets. Mr. Fitzpatrick would be proud.
Fitzpatrick’s Temperance Bar Bank St, Rawtenstall, Rossendale, BB4 6QS
“I took the missus to the Inn” ‘Jamaica?’ “No, she went of her own accord!”
Theoldonesarethebest,aren’tthey? And the Jamaica Inn, sitting between Launceston and Bodmin in Cornwall, is pretty old indeed. It’s also got a fair bit of history attached to it.
Built in the mid 18th Century, Jamaica Inn was originally a coaching inn, the equivalent of Little Chef/ Premier Inn combo on the side of a motorway today. Very much like our motorway services,theJamaicaInn, in bygone days, occasionally played host to some less than desirable clientele, and the inn was often used by smugglers to hide the contraband they’d brought ashore - at this time, half of the brandy and a quarter of the tea arriving into the UK was being smuggled in through the Devon and Cornwall coastline. In fact, it is thought that the inn got its name due to the amount of smuggled rum that passed through it.
The smuggling heritage and history of Jamaica Inn can be relived in the attached Museum of Smuggling, which is open daily and costs around £4 for adults. It is found in what was originally The Stable Bar, a space that (along with The Smuggler’s Bar and an upstairs bedroom) has been of particular interest to curious (or should that be foolhardy) ghost hunters.
It was this atmosphere, thick with history and dubious intrigue, that must have so struck Daphne Du Maurier when she stayed at the inn on a “cold and eerie” night in 1930. Du Maurier’s fictionalised version of Jamaica Inn remains one of her best-selling and most-loved novels and was made into a film by Alfred Hitchcock on the eve of the Second World War. The novel Jamaica Inn continues to inspire and the recently broadcast BBC retelling of the tale ought to keep the bar of Jamaica Inn busy with Du Maurier enthusiasts and introduce Cornwall’s murky past to new generations of little smugglers.
Jamaica Inn Bolventor, Launceston, Cornwall PL15 7TS
The Spaniards Inn
This is not a trendy gastro-tapas- drinking den, as the name might suggest, but rather one of London’s most historic literary pubs. Found on the edge of Hampstead, North London, The Spaniards Inn was originally built as a tollgate inn on the Finchley boundary marking the entrance to the Bishop of London’s estate (the 1755 boundary stone is still in the front garden).
Legend insists that infamous highwayman Dick Turpin was once a regular, and that his father was once landlord, and although neither of these facts can be substantiated, it was known that highwaymen used the inn to watch for approaching traffic.
But highwaymen were not the only inventive professionals drawn to The Spaniards Inn; many of our great literary figures made it their watering hole too. The inn is mentioned by Dickens in The Pickwick Papers and by Bram Stoker in Dracula, and Romantic poets John Keats and Lord Byron were also said to be regulars.
The inn retains much of its historic décor and is often said to have one of the most impressive beer gardens in London – it has been landscaped so that from one artificial mound there is a view of Windsor Castle. It is reported that Keats wrote his Ode to a Nightingale from this sunny hideaway.
So if you too are longing “for a draught of vintage” in a pub garden, then you may like to pop down to The Spaniards Inn. But make sure you bring your notebook, you might be struck by inspiration.
The Spaniards Inn Spaniards Rd, Hampstead, London , NW3 7JJ
Tan Hill Inn
What’s that?! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it’s the Tan Hill Inn, the highest pub in the UK. At a whopping 1732 feet above sea level it’s a good 500 feet taller than the Empire State Building and North Yorkshire Dales enthusiasts would insist it has a better view too.
The current inn dates from the 17th Century and for much of its life was a valued part of the area’s coal mining community, serving the inhabitants of the many nearby mining cottages who in turn served the Tan Hill mines.
With the world still reeling from the Wall Street Crash, it was dealt another blow in 1929 when the last of the Tan Hill mines closed its doors (do mines have doors?) for good, leading to a period of belt tightening for the Tan Hill Inn. The fact that it survived the loss of its sooty patrons at all was in part thanks to local farmers who continued to tread their muddy boot prints into the shag, and also the development of the motorcar.
1951 was a big year for the UK. The Archers was first broadcast, Dennis the Menace appeared in The Beano for the first time, Zebra Crossings were introduced to UK roads, and to top it all the first ever Tan Hill Sheep Show was held. The Sheep Show, now a regular feature on the Tan Hill social events calendar, has been held almost every year since its inception.
Due to the somewhat isolated hilltop setting, Tan Hill Inn might also hold the joint honour of being the most inaccessible pub during winter – one particularly snow-enforced lock-in lasted four days with 60 punters. And in another of the peculiar quirks that makes Britain’s pubs the world’s best, after a mobile phone advert was filmed in the pub, it was forced to invoke a strict no-phone policy. A jar stands behind the bar, full of Nokia 3310s (et al.) as the price of failing to pay the 50p just-turn-the-damn-thing-off fine results in the loss of your phone. Now that’s the sort of rule I like!
If you prefer your inn with a double portion of quirkiness at altitude then do check out the Tan Hill Inn. It’s a warm and cosy free house with a good atmosphere and a non-ringtone- interrupted ambience – and it’s bloody high up.
Tan Hill Inn Richmond, Swaledale, North Yorkshire DL11 6ED
The Bat & Ball
Erroneously known as ‘the cradle of English cricket’, The Bat & Ball in the sleepy Hampshire village of Hambledon certainly has a place within the history books of the most quintessentially English of sports.
Due to its close association with the Hambledon Cricket Club, many have assumed (incorrectly) that infant cricket let go of his mother’s apron strings and took his first steps on Broadhalfpenny Down (opposite The Bat & Ball). In truth however, the evocative thwack of leather on willow had been heard across the South Downs for hundreds of years previous. Nevertheless, The Bat & Ball and the Hambledon Cricket Club (who used The Bat & Ball as clubhouse and changing room) continue to remain inextricably linked with cricketing folklore; the modern rules of the game were drawn up from the Hambledon Club’s original.
The Bat & Ball itself, as you might expect, is a bit of a Mecca for cricketing enthusiasts, and its walls are bedecked (as all good cricketing Meccas are) with bats and balls and other cricketing flotsam and jetsam. The bar has a white line painted through the middle of it, which apocryphally is said to mark the position of the original Hambledon Club boundary rope.
Cricket is still played opposite The Bat & Ball and I might be so bold as to venture that there’s no finer way to spend a sunny afternoon than sipping cider and watching an innings or two. One cautionary word of warning however, the car park of The Bat & Ball is certainly in range of any decent batsman and a dented roof or smashed windscreen is only a hefty slog away.
Here’s another titbit for you, Britain’s third favourite ale HSB was originally made just down the road - the ‘H’ standing for nearby hamlet Horndean. So if you like to know the provenance of your pint at The Bat & Ball you’re only a cricket ball throw from the origin of what locals would call a pretty ‘Special Bitter’ indeed.
Go on then, press a crease into your trousers, pop on your whites and get down to Hambledon on a sunny afternoon. I promise it’ll be exquisitely lazy, and you’ll love every minute. Howzat!
The Bat & Ball Hyden Farm Lane, Waterlooville, Hampshire, PO8 0UB
How many people can you fit in England’s smallest pub? Answer: 102 and a dog!
The pride and PR opportunities that accompany being England’s oldest/ biggest/tallest/dustiest/coldest pub are significant, and the crown belonging to England’s smallest pub is a very keenly contested one. Many have thrown their teeny hat into the tiny ring, but only one has emerged victorious. The compact but perfectly formed Nutshell in Bury St Edmunds is generally acknowledged (certainly by The Guinness Book of Records) as the smallest, seemingly by virtue of the fact that it has no outside drinking space/beer garden, unlike many of its puny rivals.
Measuring only 15ft by 7ft the record of 102 people and a dog seems a little far-fetched, but for a local radio feature in 1984 The Nutshell achieved just that. Pretty impressive for pub with just about enough room for 10 patrons ordinarily. In fact, The Nutshell is so small, that it hit the headlines in 2013 for banning one of its taller (he was 6’7 if you were wondering) patrons during peak times as there simply wasn’t room to accommodate him.
Assuming you’re small enough to be allowed inside, aside from getting up close and personal with the locals, you’ll be able to come face to face (literally) with The Nutshell’s famously interesting décor. Having started life as a museum of art and curiosities in the late 19th Century, the current ownership have kept up the tradition and the walls and ceiling display a range of particularly weird and wonderful objets d’art. In keeping with the diminutive theme, The Nutshell boasts the smallest copy of The Times and the smallest dartboard. And when a desiccated cat was found by builders behind the brickwork of the fireplace it was decided it was exactly what the pub needed and they stuck it on the wall.
Whether you simply like invading the space of boozy men, or just fancy a little (normal sized) drink in a tiny (tiny) pub then check out The Nutshell in Bury St Edmunds. If you can find it.
The Nutshell, The Traverse, Town Centre, Bury St Edmunds IP33 1BJ
Warren House Inn
So you’ve been on a brisk winter’s walk across the wilds of Dartmoor. The biting Devonshire wind has chilled you to the core and, fearing hypothermia, you’re on the verge of calling Mountain (Moor) Rescue when you spot a white dot of hope on the horizon; an inn, with its plume of smoke billowing from a chimney hinting at the cosiness within.
With its address of No. 1, Middle of Nowhere, Warren House Inn has offered respite to weary travellers since the mid 19th Century. Like the Tan Hill Inn, this particular establishment originally served the thriving but now non-existent tin mining industry. It’s also quite isolated come winter. During heavy snows in 1963 Warren House was cut off for 12 weeks, meaning provisions had to be brought in by helicopter.
Now over the years many of England’s great pubs have had equally illustrious landlords (Sir Ian Mckellen - Magneto to his friends - co-owns The Grapes in Limehouse, Guy Ritchie owns the Punch Bowl in Mayfair, and chat-show host extraordinaire Michael Parkinson owns The Royal Oak in Maidenhead) and Warren House Inn is no exception, sitting slap-bang in the middle of the estate of the Duchy of Cornwall. By rights it’s Prince Charles’s name above the door.
It says something about a pub when the fact that the landlord is heir to the throne is not the most interesting thing about it, and so I’ll bring you back to the plume of smoke mentioned at the top. The fire that burns in the hearth of Warren House Inn has been doing so continuously since 1845. It’s outlived Dartmoor’s tin industry, survived countless freezing winters and warmed the cockles of who knows how many wide-eyed travellers. Warren House Inn really does keep the home fires burning.
Warren House Inn Postbridge, Yelverton, Devon, PL20 6TA
Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem
One of the many pretenders to the wrinkled crown of Britain’s oldest pub is Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem, which purports (according to the pub sign at least) to date from 1189 AD.
Though the current building is only about three hundred years old, The Trip, as it is known to the Nottinghamites, is built on a series of man-made caves, which date to about the same time as the Norman conquest and link up to the castle on the hill above.
The pub supposedly takes its name from the fact that crusade-bound knights used the watering hole as a stop-off point on their way to Israel (the modern equivalent would be needing a wee before you reach the end of the road). Indeed Richard I himself apparently slept at the inn on one of his very infrequent visits to England, though this obviously can’t be verified as he didn’t post a review on TripAdvisor. What is beyond doubt however is that over the years some pretty strange and eerie things have occurred at Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem.
In The Rock Lounge (one of The Trip’s three bars) a model galleon hangs from the ceiling gathering dust as the last three people to have cleaned it are said to have died under mysterious circumstances within 12 months of doing so. The galleon is now encased in glass, as the centuries of dust covering it occasionally became dislodged and would fall into an unsuspecting drinker’s pint. Other peculiar highlights include an antique chair in the corner of the bar, which is said to improve the fertility and chances of conception of any woman who sits in it. The chair has even been used by local politicians to stress the importance of contraception to bemused teenage residents.
If you like your pubs ancient, and with a healthy serving of haunted spookiness on the side, then stop in to Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem. Perhaps on your way to the Holy Land? Or at least somewhere else suitably sunny.
Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem Brewhouse Yard, Castle Rd, Nottingham, NG1 6AD
Words by Sarah Kelleher, Photographs by Liz Schaffer. Armed with a list of recommendations as long as my arm and travel companions who were already familiar with New York, I stepped off the plane at JFK. My first glimpse of the city was suitably fitting – late at night, through the window of a yellow taxi cab I could see the outline of towering buildings and neon lights. Exhausted by the flight, I had just enough energy to register the glorious eccentricity of the lobby at The Jane Hotel, originally built as a hotel on the banks of the Hudson River for sailors on shore-leave, complete with bellhops in maroon outfits with brass buttons, dark wood panelling and a pair of antlers.
Rising much refreshed from my bunk the next day (the rooms at The Jane were built to resemble cabins on a ship) I breakfasted in Café Gitane, next to the hotel’s lobby. The décor is French, as the name would suggest, and the European/ North African/ Middle Eastern cuisine is delicious, perfect fuel for urban adventurers. I was surprised by the continental flavour of the café, but came to realise that this is very typical of New York, a city that simultaneously wears its immigrant heart on its sleeve whilst remaining distinctly American.
After that first meal my feet hardly touched the ground. I was lucky enough to be in New York in the spring when the city is at its most romantic, the square lines of tenement builds softened by the pink and white blossom hanging from the roadside trees. A lifelong bookworm and confirmed geek, I couldn’t pass up on the chance to visit some of the city’s bookshops and took in the Strand, an enormous family-run independent bookstore, and Forbidden Planet, a famous comic book emporium. Having satisfied one appetite I turned to another, and had lunch at Veselka, a Ukrainian restaurant and New York institution that serves tasty pierogi and sweet raspberry pancakes.
A visit to Central Park was in order, so I found my way to this oasis in Manhattan. Central Park is just extraordinary – a long rectangle of green space carved out of New York’s urban jungle. You can see the city’s skyscrapers closing in from almost all points in the park, but they seem curiously far away when you’re surrounded by so much nature. A quiet wander up and down the paths, past New York joggers and tiny dog-walking Manhattanites, followed by a trip to Café Lalo of You’ve Got Mail fame blew away the last cobwebs of jet lag.
My first taste of the city was short-lived, as I had another plane to catch to New Mexico and a road-trip to complete. Late at night, tucked up in my cabin bed at The Jane, I consoled myself with the thought that I’d be returning to New York in a matter of weeks on my way home. When I closed my eyes, all I could see were skyscraper lights.
Two weeks later, and New York had progressed from the chill and damp of early spring to the first hints of summer. Returning to The Jane felt like a homecoming of sorts, and I wasted no time in ensconcing myself back in Café Gitane for a coffee and plotting session. My first stop was to meet up with a friend who was serendipitously in New York at the same time as me; she suggested the High Line.
The High Line is a remarkable piece of New York history – a living monument to the city’s transport past. Originally a railroad running on an elevated track through the Chelsea district on Manhattan’s West Side, it closed in 1980, only to re-open in 2009 as a public landscape. Carefully planted with perennials, grasses, shrubs and trees, the planting design is based on the wildlife that sprang up after the tracks fell into disuse. After ambling through Chelsea Market we ascended to the High Line; on a sunny spring Saturday locals and tourists were out in force, wandering through the trees and tracks and enjoying the views over the city.
If attractions such as the High Line and Top of the Rock demonstrate anything, it’s that you can always find a fresh vantage point to enjoy New York from. There are so many ways to see this city, whether you’re at the pinnacle of the Rockefeller Centre, matching up the buildings with your map, or down on the streets, wending your way through beeping yellow taxi cabs. In the evenings, though, I was after a different kind of spectacle.
At the top of my list for New York was written ‘must see the New York City Ballet’. This world-famous, and world-class ballet company was founded by George Balanchine and Lincoln Kirstein in 1948 and resides at the Lincoln Centre. Balanchine, who served as Ballet Master of the company until his death in 1983, choreographed numerous ballets in which he pioneered a new, athletic style, such as Jewels, the one I’d chosen to watch.
I’d picked Jewels for a number of reasons: partly because it was typically Balanchine, energetic and thematic instead of having a traditional plot with a happy or tragic ending, and partly because I was drawn to the story behind the ballet. Enamoured with the jewellery on display at New York stores like Harry Winston, Balanchine envisioned a ballet where the acts were named after jewels: emerald, ruby and diamond. Each act embodied different types of music and ballet: the Emerald act was set to Fauré and was choreographed in the French manner, the Ruby act featured Stravinsky and a spiky modern American technique and the Diamond act was danced to Tchaikovsky in the Russian style. Of all the sights I saw in New York, this was one of the most spectacular – the dancers leaped higher than I thought possible, and danced in formations that did indeed look like glittering ropes of jewels strung together.
I could continue to wax lyrical about everything I saw in New York – tea at the Plaza (decadent, luxurious), a trip to the Tenement Museum to learn about New York’s immigrant history and lunch at Tableau One followed by a visit to the Museum of Modern Art, where I stood, transfixed, in front of Picasso’s ‘Starry Night’ for a good twenty minutes. At some point though, I had to accept that I wasn’t going to be able to see everything the city had to offer, that I had simply run out of time. In the end it didn’t matter too much – after all, it wasn’t a case of if I’d return to New York, but when.
We first worked with Hannah Sheffield on our England issue back in 2014 when she captured the country's seasons. She made a stunning appearance again when she photographed the Scottish Boarders for issue 2, and so when she told us she was off to Porto for a holiday we had to see (and share) her photographs. This is a different side to the Portuguese city, a quieter side, a look at its detail. All we know is that it makes us want to travel! To purchase the Scotland magazine, and see more of Hannah's work, click here.
When putting together our Sweden magazine we were sent a wonderful collection of photographs from artists working across the world. However, with only 156 pages to fill, we couldn't find a home for every shot. So, we have decided to share some of the photographs we loved here - and we're sure they'll bing on a spot of Nordic wanderlust. To purchase the Sweden magazine, click here.
Photographs by Tom Bland, Tom Bunning, Tobias Hägg,Thomas Harrison, Louise Nordström Pettersson & Diana Pappas.
This week we launched issue 5, the Sweden issue, at the Swedish Ambassador's Residence in London. So, it seems like the right time to share a sneak peak of some of our Scandinavian content and say a mighty big thank you to the fab team at Visit Sweden, the Embassy of Sweden and of course Ambassador Nicola Clase. If we've learnt anything it's that few people are as generous and hospitable as the Swedes (and that they have a rather glorious country too).
The Magazine ...
Rich in coastal hideaways, ancient archipelagos and islands rising from the sea, Sweden has a fondness for the sublime. With remote restaurants challenging palates and expectations, hotels carved from ice and pathways draping her frontiers, this is a country of extremes. But its cosmopolitan icons, and cities famed for their food, flair and design, also set hearts aflutter. Seasonal splendour allows creatives to delight in the daring and while there is a sense of wildness, the landscape shaped by glaciers and blanketed in forest, solitude is easy to find. Visit this northern wonderland and you’ll soon discover that Swedish escapes are good for the soul.
You can order the magazine online here.
Some featured destinations (and people) ...
Each issue of Lodestars Anthology ends with a series of collectables, 200 word features on people, places and ideas that work together to make our featured country truly grand. Here is a selection of our Italian collectables; with food integral to this vibrant country, of course they come with plenty of flavour ... and a dash of Campari. You can purchase the printed magazine here.
Stand in a room basking in the glow emanating from Da Vinci’s Last Supper. Wander around the Piazza del Duomo and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II with your neck craned upwards, staring at the behemoth archway, carvings and dome glass skylights. Get dizzy. Sit down and order a shakerato and collect your thoughts. Spend 25 minutes in a souvenir shop selling AC Milan and Inter Milan jerseys, trying to remember which one your boyfriend wanted, let alone which player’s number. Almost get into an argument with the shop keeper when you get the colours of each team mixed up. Spray every fragrance in every small boutique on yourself while (window) shopping along the Via della Spiga. Get lost (literally) in the historic Brera district. Partake in a culinary experience, dining on a saffron-infused risotto alla Milanese while a fleet of 30 Mini Coopers congregates in the piazza right outside. Take a sip of wine and kiss the tips of all five of your fingers at once, to complete the postcard-perfect scene you’re currently living out.
If on a summer’s day you find yourself standing in il Mercatale, the large piazza-turned-bus terminal beneath Urbino’s ancient city walls, look up. Against a sky of childish blue you’ll witness an orchestra of swallows filling the air, engaged in dizzying acrobatic feats above the city’s Palazzo Ducale. The juxtaposition is brilliant - a silent, staid Renaissance structure frozen beneath a sky abuzz with avian daredevils.
Urbino rises almost organically from the hilly landscape of the northern regions of Le Marche. The vibrant centre of a constellation of small, walled towns that freckle the countryside. One cannot understate its Renaissance significance. A city of art and learning, its court served as the inspiration, and later, the setting for Baladassare Castiglione’s The Book of the Courtier, the definitive 16th century account of courtly life. More importantly perhaps, Urbino is the birthplace of the Renaissance master Raphael.
Urbino’s labyrinthine streets are dotted with churches, oratories and chapels with the 15th century UNESCO listed Palazzo Ducale standing, as it always has, in the city’s heart while the 16th century university ensures students breathe life into Urbino long after summertime tourists have absconded.
D. W. Grunner
Comprised of 17 ingredients, in homage to the 17 districts of Siena, panforte is Tuscany’s most famous cake. Candied fruits, including cedro and orange peel, along with lemon zest, blanched almonds, hazelnuts and pistachios, are combined with flour, cocoa, sugar, honey and spices - cinnamon, nutmeg, mace, coriander seed, cloves and white pepper - which are heated together, before being poured into a pan lined with rice flour paper to form a flat, sweet, sticky, dense cake.
Siena’s town archives attest to the fact that this fruit and nut cake has been made here since 1205. Legend has it that religious crusaders carried rounds of panforte with them on long journeys and that the cake was used as a form of currency in medieval times, paid each year in February to local monks and nuns. In 1879 Queen Margherita visited the town and in honour of the visit her moniker was added to the name, and thus panforte made to the traditional recipe, by bakers like the third generation Marabissi family in Chianciano, is now called ‘panforte Margherita’. A popular Tuscan Christmas gift, it is served after meals with Vin Santo, the local dessert wine.
Campari - bitter, aromatic, happiness in a glass. My ardour for the aperitif took me on a pilgrimage, a 27-hour commute from the Antipodes to the company’s headquarters in search of the secret recipe. A drink is the first order of business. Camparino, perhaps Milan’s most famous, and certainly best positioned bar on the edge of Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, is the birthplace of Campari; the famous liquor originally mixed, barrelled and bottled here in the cellar. Today, as everyday, aperitivo is served. Campari soda is the most requested aperitif. Although respect must be paid to Italy’s Negroni and Aperol Spritz.
The next morning at Campari’s now headquarters, Paolo Cavallo, director of the onsite museum, tells me of the company’s decision to open the exhibition space. “Our machinery is much less sexy than our ad campaigns,” he says. When I press Paolo for the recipe he is quick to respond. “It is a complicated formula of lots of different herbs, aromatics and citrus.” In the history of Campari only two people have ever known the recipe at any one time. “One family member and the CEO,” he says. “And I’m neither.”
SAILING IN SARDINIA
Sardinia is a sailor’s paradise with over 1,000 miles of coastline offering pristine white beaches, turquoise-hued coves, rocky promontories and time-forgotten fishing villages. Delicious food, heartfelt welcomes and a sense of tradition combine to make the yacht charter scene here one of the most popular in the Mediterranean - and with over 300 days of sunshine there is plenty of time to enjoy the natural beauty.
Being only 12 kilometres from Corsica, both islands can be chartered, with the plentiful and diverse anchorages ensuring endless possibilities. Modern resort harbours allow for the discovery of unique surrounding villages or a spot of upscale dining and boutique shopping.
Most sailors focus on the northeast coast. The Maddalena Archipelago is a national marine park and once a permit is acquired, crystal waters reveal a seabed peppered with life and an abundance of dive sites. In the bays and harbours of the sophisticated Costa Smeralda (Emerald Coast), superyachts glide alongside skiffs on the shimmering sea, exploring luxurious towns and the intensely beautiful shore. There is freedom and adventure in sailing these warm waters, the extraordinary scenic setting a lure for all.
With our Sweden issue happily printing away we felt it was time to share some of the photographs gathered during our Nordic adventure. Here are the images of Londoner Tom Bunning who travelled to the serene Stockholm archipelago at the very start of Autumn. Won over by the golden hues and pervading sense of calm he captured a region adored by natives in the Summer during one of its quieter moments. Cue a sense of wanderlust. To order a copy of our Sweden magazine, due out in early June, click here. You can purchase Tom's prints here.
"Wild horses couldn't drag me away from a summer on the Stockholm archipelago." Bjorn Ulvaeus
We have all experienced deafening silence - when the peace and solitude seems to resonate and with sighs of satisfaction you almost hear your soul singing. In the middle of the flocked Colorado forest the booming quietude was impossible to ignore. It was captivating, yet seemed to be constantly competing with creaking, grinding noises of my boots as I slowly trudged up the snowy trail. Struggling to describe the sounds I soon came to the conclusion that ‘crunchy then soft’ seemed apt - my snowshoes crunched through the upper layer and squeaked on the downey under-layer. Ah, “crust on fluff” came the description from our naturalist guide Peter, obviously far more acoustically experienced in the matter.
Snowshoeing is a wonderful way to enjoy Alpine scenery. Away from the flurry of the ski slopes you are one-on-one with nature, reaching pristine regions few have the privilege of experiencing. With new snowshoe manufacturing techniques there has been renewed interest in this ancient activity and people of all ages and ability are becoming avid walkers.
We were in the White River National Forest near Vail with Walking Mountains. Equipped by our guide before setting out, the layers soon came off as we tackled the first steep incline. I was surprised at the exertion, but once mastering the technique of leaning forwards I floated over the snow, luckily not falling backwards.
Blue sky highlighted glistening crystals on the surrounding snowcapped peaks. Our small group chatted as we tramped, discussing local ecology as we passed mountain thyme, Rose-hip and Douglas firs. But the ghostly white Aspens fascinated us. With a combined root system they are actually one large organism and, despite the plethora of choice, elk always return to the same tree to give birth. Chewing the bark is thought to provide pain relief (it contains an aspirin-like substance), yet being amazingly practical it also contains an SPF 8 factor which Native Americans used for sun protection.
The silence was soon punctuated by a new sound and we chanced on a red-headed woodpecker chiseling his mark on the trees. Declining in number it was a lucky sighting and we appreciated his busyness, head moving backwards and forwards in a blur as he pecked. Dragging our snow-laden feet away and heading further up the hill, Peter soon spied mountain lion prints next to the trail, mother and cubs having passed through only a few hours before. It was fascinating acknowledging that despite the comforting beauty of the scenery we were truly in the wild.
Once at the summit we enjoyed the endless panorama of shimmering snow and verdant vegetation. Our snowshoes were still, our breathing deep and we felt satisfyingly tired standing on top of this immaculate world. It was impossible to not feel invigourated, so with renewed gusto we leant backwards and headed down, richer in experience and ripe for more discovery.
The importance of getting to these unspoiled areas cannot be understated as appreciation is paramount for their protection. Welcoming locals ask you to explore this special area and spread word of its beauty which will help in its conservation. Walking with a knowledgeable guide only heightens the enjoyment and understanding.
So as the snow begins to fall, pop on the snowshoes and break the silence and a trail through these magnificent mountains.
Words and Photographs by Angela Terrell.
Photographs from where you'd rather be ... New York based photographer Olya Matvieieva has spent the past four years capturing analog images of nature and the sea. Choosing sparsely populated places as her subjects - silent, isolated corners - she travelled to Big Sur in California, an area that has appealed to artists and writers like Hunter S. Thompson and Jack Kerouac and overlooks the mighty Pacific Ocean. Here Olya felt like she had found her home. "It was the most memorable trip and maybe when I'm older it would be great to retire there. Red woods all the way to the ocean, what else do you need?!"
You can view Olya's work on her website, allforsilence.com.
"Maybe it's just a personal thing, but I get so much grounding from Iceland because I know it's always going to be there. I have a very happy, healthy relationship with the country, so it's really easy to go everywhere because I always have Iceland to go back to." Bjork
Ever wanted to just pack a bag and run off to Iceland. Really! No? Well we're pretty sure these photos will inspire a touch of Icelandic wanderlust ...