Hardwick Hall and the Edifice Complex

We bade farewell to York today, to pretty much universal disappointment. It seems that nearly everyone on the trip came to the same conclusion that Jan, Ken, and I all reached on our first trips: the North of England is magical. The scenery's better, the people are nicer, the weather's better. Much as I love London and the south, particularly The City, Kensington, Torquay, Hastings, Winchester and Salisbury, they don't feel like home. Durham and York, for some reason, feel like home. If I could put Pikes Peak in County Durham, or put York Minster here in the Springs, I would.

Hardwick Hall
Originally uploaded by woden325.

At any rate, we headed for Hardwick Hall (map).
This was built for Bess of Hardwick as a monument to her wealth, her power, and most of all, her independence. Unusually for Tudor England, this house was Bess's —— not her husband's. Unfortunately, (in my opinion) it is a bit too ostentatious. As Jan liked to quote, "Hardwick Hall, more glass than wall." The huge windows were a sign of Bess's wealth. Glass was expensive, and heavily taxed, so none but the very rich could build a house like this. Bess also gilded the lily a bit by placing her cipher ("E S" with a coronet above the letters) all along the roof-line of the house.
The interior smelled musty, like there were serious leaks in the building. The National Trust is restoring the building but it seems that they have a way to go. The upper floor was a bit sway-backed, looking something like a lake with gentle swells rolling across it.
I can't fault them, however, for the paintings or the tapestries in the house. Those were fantastic, particularly the portraits of Locke and Queen Elizabeth. The portrait of Elizabeth was one that I don't recall seeing before. It was a later image, and the queen was shown with an interesting green dress with all sorts of embroidered fish on it.
I also can't fault them for the gardens, which were lovely, as usual. As the day wore on, the parking lot for the Hall continued to fill up with locals, all of whom seemed to have picnic tables and thermoses filled with tea. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, if you ask me, and it was a particularly nice one.
We continued south afterward, stopping at the lovely Newport Pagnall Service Centre on our way down the M1. (Upon further review, it may have been the Rothersthorpe Service Centre. If you've seen one truck-stop, you've seen them all. Even if they're on the wrong side of the highway.) (map)
This meant traversing the ongoing, permanent traffic jam known as the M25, which only took 6 or 7 hours, before reaching our last hotel of the trip, the St Giles.
After settling in, a fair group of us headed off toward some restaurants that had been recommended by the hotel staff. There was a strip mall, with a Chiquito Restaurant, along with a movie theatre and an Italian/American-type restaurant. The group split up, half of us going to Chiquito's and the other half to the Italian place. We split up again at the restaurant, into two booths.
If memory serves, our table was Connie, Brianne, Amber, Sharon, Sonoko, and myself. I can't blame my faulty memory on drink, because anyalcoholl in my margarita was entirely coincidental. My chimichanga wasn't half bad, though. And it's not every day you have Mexican food in England, served by a Russian waitress. Still not a patch on The Loop, though.
Tomorrow: a whirlwind tour of Wilton House, Salisbury Cathedral, and Stonehenge.