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6 TUESDAY, JUNE 5, 2012 TRAVEL 7 TUESDAY, JUNE 5, 2012 TRAVEL A writer’s trail: in Dickens’ footsteps A pint of ale in the great author’s local pub, a visit to Miss Haversham’s house and a tour of the city’s most famous cemetery — Colin Hogg slips into the shoes of London’s illustrious writer FAMOUS FINDS: (Clockwise) A patron sips his beer in Dickens’ old watering hole, Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese on Fleet St; a writing chair used by Dickens; a cheque written by Dickens, reportedly to pay for a birthday present for his mistress, at the Museum of London; portrait of Dickens in his study, 1859, by William Powell Frith; Highgate Cemetery London, where Dickens’ parents are buried. PICTURES / BLOOMBERG, ALLY CARMICHAEL THESE DAYS, THEY SAY YOU’RE NEVER MORE THAN THREE FEET FROM A RAT IN LONDON. IN DICKENS’ DAY IT WAS PROBABLY MORE LIKE THREE INCHES AND THAT RAT WOULD HAVE BEEN OLD AND GREY AND HORRIBLY FEARLESS. I N January, 1847, Charles Dickens wrote he was feeling ‘‘very mouldy and dull. Hardly able to work. Disposed to go to New Zealand and start a magazine’’. Just as well then that the great English novelist cheered up a bit. Many of his famous books were still ahead of him and it’s hard to imagine them having the same impact set in Wellington or Auck- land instead of London, the city Dickens both loved and loathed and called his ‘‘magic lantern’’. The Museum of London is featuring a major exhibition cele- brating the 200th anniversary of the birth of the man they still insist is the greatest urban novelist, and they might be right. The exhibition is a strangely gripping experience and a timely reminder that, two centuries on, the great writer does not appear to have a ‘‘best by’’ date. His mighty catalogue has never been out of print and remains a treasure trove for TV, film and stage producers. His book titles remain household phrases. Amid the exhibition, which mixes high-tech atmospherics with artefacts, a fan might find it is the presence of a couple of Dickens’ writing desks, scratched, battered and dulled with use, that provide its emotional heart. Elsewhere the exhibition is often a bit dark and scary — as London was in Dickens’ day. In the early and mid-1800s, for almost anyone but the thin upper crust of the wealthy, the city was a kind of hell where the air was thick and stinking and the poor and starving thought themselves lucky to find refuge in the workhouses. These days, they say you’re never more than three feet from a rat in London. In Dickens’ day it was probably more like three inches and that rat would have been old and grey and horribly fearless. As a reminder, there’s rat poison set out in the hallways of the short- term apartment I’m renting in a handsome Gothic pile right across the road from the Bank of England in the City — a fitting base for my Dickensian exploration of London. The City is the old square mile that was the original walled medie- val London. Chunks of the wall now stand like wobbly monuments just a walk away. This is a part of London Dickens might still recog- nise. There are others — more than enough to provide a theme for a Dickensian tour. If a tourist wasn’t careful, the visiting spots might be mostly pubs. Dickens, like any man of his time, enjoyed a drink and there’s no shortage of his old watering holes, some of which predated him by centuries. The best of them is Ye Old Cheshire Cheese in Fleet St, where Dickens spent his early days as a parliamentary reporter. ‘‘Rebuilt 1667’’ its sign says, placing it the year after the Great Fire. It’s a bizarre, half- underground place of nooks and whiffy crannies. The beer — a pint of Samuel Smith’s — is excellent and the crusty steak and kidney pie possibly the best in town. After that, Dickens seems pre- sent in almost every old pub. He may not have made it his local, but Ye Old Watling, in Watling St, also in the City, seems full of Dickensian characters. There’s Uriah Heep in the corner with his long face and the portly old man by the fire could be Pickwick, gobbling his pie with his one tooth, not eating his veges. Down at Blackfriars Bridge, the muddy Thames is being pushed upstream by the tide. Near here was the blacking factory in which a 12-year-old Dickens was made to work after his father was put in debtors’ prison. At that time, there was no Em- bankment confining the river, which was then rank and stinking with human and factory waste and the occasional body. Now it’s just murky. Over in Covent Garden there’s another Dickens must-see at Seven Dials. He was captivated by the area, which in his day was a notorious haunt of thugs and prostitutes. He wrote of standing where its seven roads meet, looking down its forbidding streets and noxious alleys. These days it’s another world — filled with trendy shops and coffee bars, enjoying an almost village- like atmosphere. But standing in the middle of the Dial, looking down the seven narrow streets, is still a slightly dizzying experience. London’s most famous cemetery, Highgate, is where Dickens’ mother and father ended up, which provides a good reason to visit the monumental Victorian boneyard. There’s an East and a West cem- etery — the former open, for a small fee, to wander at will. Just inside the entrance is the grave of the great singer/guitarist Bert Jansch, who died only last year. Further in, you’ll find Sir Ralph Richardson and Karl Marx. Over in the West where the Dickens seniors lie, the bossy boots Friends of Highgate run things and whisk visitors around on hourly guided tours. Even on the trot, it’s breathtakingly atmospheric, madly, crumblingly gothic. We don’t see the old Dickenses, though. They’re off the beaten track some- where and visiting’s not allowed. Finding the remains of Charles himself is easier. He’s in Westmin- ster Abbey, a pricey treat at around $30, but unmissable. On this damp day the abbey smells like an old sock, an unglamorous pong for the huge house of the famous dead. Wind your way past the crowds of statue- topped coffins and crypts to Poets’ Corner and there he is, next to Handel and Kipling and just across from Dylan Thomas, Lord Byron and the great music hall comic Max Wall. Dickens didn’t want to be buried here — which is a nice excuse for ending the Dickens tour by leaving London for another of his favourite places. Rochester Cathedral smells of earth, especially down in the spooky crypt. It was here Dickens actually wanted to lie, but his pop star status moved Queen Victoria to rule he be buried in much grander company at Westminster. Rochester is a custom-made day trip excursion from London on the Dickens trail. Just under 40 minutes from Victoria Station by train — Dickens’ favourite mode of travel — it’s a picture-perfect tiny cathedral city hugging the beauti- ful River Medway, impossibly ancient and offering the fairytale bonus of an 11th century ruined castle. And this after rolling through the green openness of Kent. Rochester is almost a Dickens theme park. Turn right from the railway station and up the madly picturesque high street and there, on the left, is a white-timber build- ing Dickens featured in both Great Expectations and his final and darkest novel The Mystery of Edwin Drood, which is almost totally set in Rochester. On the right, tucked behind a gloomy 16th century pile called Eastgate House, is the strangely cute Swiss chalet Dickens used as a writing room. He wrote his last words here and it was moved to Rochester from his last home, just out of town. Up the hill, in Crow Lane, is the gem of the tour, the darkly charis- matic Restoration House, which Dickens renamed Satis House, the home of the mad jilted bride Miss Haversham, in Great Expectations. Dickens was observed three days before he died, standing across the road from Restoration House, ‘‘as if studying every brick’’, making it almost possible, even after all this time, to stand, briefly, in his shoes. As if. Colin Hogg travelled to London at his own expense. CHECKLIST LONDON Rochester UK 20km R Thames KENT LONDON AND ROCHESTER GETTING THERE Air New Zealand connections to London start from $2771 (including fees and taxes), return via Asia. For more information go to www.airnewzealand.co.nz From London, you can get a return train trip (leaving from Victoria or Charing Cross) to Rochester for around $37. WHAT THE DICKENS Wander the Dickens locations yourself or join a tour like those listed on www.britishtours.com. Entry to the British Museum is free, but the Dickens exhibition will cost $16.50. FURTHER INFORMATION www.dickensworld.co.uk or www.visitrochester.com.

TUESDAY, JUNE 5, 2012 Awriter’strail: inDickens’footsteps

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Page 1: TUESDAY, JUNE 5, 2012 Awriter’strail: inDickens’footsteps

6 TUESDAY, JUNE 5, 2012 TRAVEL 7TUESDAY, JUNE 5, 2012TRAVEL

A writer’s trail:in Dickens’ footstepsA pint of ale in the great author’s local pub, a visit to Miss Haversham’s house and a tour of thecity’s most famous cemetery — Colin Hogg slips into the shoes of London’s illustrious writer

FAMOUS FINDS: (Clockwise) A patron sips his beer in Dickens’ old watering hole, Ye Olde CheshireCheese on Fleet St; a writing chair used by Dickens; a cheque written by Dickens, reportedly to pay for abirthday present for his mistress, at the Museum of London; portrait of Dickens in his study, 1859, byWilliam Powell Frith; Highgate Cemetery London, where Dickens’ parents are buried.

PICTURES / BLOOMBERG, ALLY CARMICHAEL

THESE DAYS, THEY SAYYOU’RE NEVER MORE

THAN THREE FEET FROM ARAT IN LONDON. IN DICKENS’DAY IT WAS PROBABLYMORE LIKE THREE INCHESAND THAT RAT WOULD HAVEBEEN OLD AND GREY ANDHORRIBLY FEARLESS.

IN January, 1847, CharlesDickens wrote he was feeling‘‘very mouldy and dull. Hardly

able to work. Disposed to go to NewZealand and start a magazine’’.

Just as well then that the greatEnglish novelist cheered up a bit.Many of his famous books were stillahead of him and it’s hard toimagine them having the sameimpact set in Wellington or Auck-land instead of London, the cityDickens both loved and loathed andcalled his ‘‘magic lantern’’.

The Museum of London isfeaturing a major exhibition cele-brating the 200th anniversary of thebirth of the man they still insist isthe greatest urban novelist, andthey might be right.

The exhibition is a strangelygripping experience and a timelyreminder that, two centuries on,the great writer does not appear tohave a ‘‘best by’’ date. His mightycatalogue has never been out ofprint and remains a treasure trovefor TV, film and stage producers.His book titles remain householdphrases.

Amid the exhibition, whichmixes high-tech atmospherics withartefacts, a fan might find it is thepresence of a couple of Dickens’writing desks, scratched, batteredand dulled with use, that provide itsemotional heart. Elsewhere theexhibition is often a bit dark andscary — as London was in Dickens’day.

In the early and mid-1800s, foralmost anyone but the thin uppercrust of the wealthy, the city was akind of hell where the air was thickand stinking and the poor andstarving thought themselves luckyto find refuge in the workhouses.

These days, they say you’renever more than three feet from arat in London. In Dickens’ day itwas probably more like threeinches and that rat would havebeen old and grey and horriblyfearless.

As a reminder, there’s rat poisonset out in the hallways of the short-term apartment I’m renting in ahandsome Gothic pile right acrossthe road from the Bank of Englandin the City — a fitting base for myDickensian exploration of London.

The City is the old square milethat was the original walled medie-val London. Chunks of the wall nowstand like wobbly monuments justa walk away. This is a part ofLondon Dickens might still recog-nise. There are others — more than

enough to provide a theme for aDickensian tour.

If a tourist wasn’t careful, thevisiting spots might be mostly pubs.Dickens, like any man of his time,enjoyed a drink and there’s noshortage of his old watering holes,some of which predated him bycenturies.

The best of them is Ye OldCheshire Cheese in Fleet St, whereDickens spent his early days as aparliamentary reporter.

‘‘Rebuilt 1667’’ its sign says,placing it the year after the GreatFire. It’s a bizarre, half-underground place of nooks andwhiffy crannies. The beer — a pintof Samuel Smith’s — is excellentand the crusty steak and kidney piepossibly the best in town.

After that, Dickens seems pre-sent in almost every old pub. Hemay not have made it his local, butYe Old Watling, in Watling St, alsoin the City, seems full of Dickensiancharacters.

There’s Uriah Heep in the cornerwith his long face and the portly oldman by the fire could be Pickwick,gobbling his pie with his one tooth,not eating his veges.

Down at Blackfriars Bridge, themuddy Thames is being pushedupstream by the tide. Near herewas the blacking factory in which a12-year-old Dickens was made towork after his father was put indebtors’ prison.

At that time, there was no Em-bankment confining the river,which was then rank and stinkingwith human and factory waste andthe occasional body. Now it’s justmurky.

Over in Covent Garden there’sanother Dickens must-see at SevenDials. He was captivated by thearea, which in his day was anotorious haunt of thugs andprostitutes. He wrote of standingwhere its seven roads meet, lookingdown its forbidding streets andnoxious alleys.

These days it’s another world —filled with trendy shops and coffeebars, enjoying an almost village-

like atmosphere. But standing inthe middle of the Dial, lookingdown the seven narrow streets, isstill a slightly dizzying experience.

London’s most famous cemetery,Highgate, is where Dickens’ motherand father ended up, whichprovides a good reason to visit themonumental Victorian boneyard.There’s an East and a West cem-etery — the former open, for a smallfee, to wander at will. Just insidethe entrance is the grave of thegreat singer/guitarist Bert Jansch,who died only last year. Further in,you’ll find Sir Ralph Richardsonand Karl Marx.

Over in the West where theDickens seniors lie, the bossy bootsFriends of Highgate run things andwhisk visitors around on hourlyguided tours. Even on the trot, it’sbreathtakingly atmospheric,madly, crumblingly gothic. Wedon’t see the old Dickenses, though.They’re off the beaten track some-where and visiting’s not allowed.

Finding the remains of Charleshimself is easier. He’s in Westmin-ster Abbey, a pricey treat at around$30, but unmissable.

On this damp day the abbeysmells like an old sock, an

unglamorous pong for the hugehouse of the famous dead. Windyour way past the crowds of statue-topped coffins and crypts to Poets’Corner and there he is, next toHandel and Kipling and just acrossfrom Dylan Thomas, Lord Byronand the great music hall comic MaxWall.

Dickens didn’t want to be buriedhere — which is a nice excuse forending the Dickens tour by leavingLondon for another of his favouriteplaces.

Rochester Cathedral smells ofearth, especially down in thespooky crypt. It was here Dickensactually wanted to lie, but his popstar status moved Queen Victoriato rule he be buried in muchgrander company at Westminster.

Rochester is a custom-made daytrip excursion from London on theDickens trail. Just under 40minutes from Victoria Station bytrain — Dickens’ favourite mode oftravel — it’s a picture-perfect tinycathedral city hugging the beauti-ful River Medway, impossiblyancient and offering the fairytalebonus of an 11th century ruinedcastle. And this after rollingthrough the green openness ofKent.

Rochester is almost a Dickenstheme park. Turn right from therailway station and up the madlypicturesque high street and there,on the left, is a white-timber build-ing Dickens featured in both GreatExpectations and his final anddarkest novel The Mystery of EdwinDrood, which is almost totally set inRochester.

On the right, tucked behind agloomy 16th century pile calledEastgate House, is the strangelycute Swiss chalet Dickens used as awriting room. He wrote his lastwords here and it was moved toRochester from his last home, justout of town.

Up the hill, in Crow Lane, is thegem of the tour, the darkly charis-matic Restoration House, whichDickens renamed Satis House, thehome of the mad jilted bride MissHaversham, in Great Expectations.

Dickens was observed three daysbefore he died, standing across theroad from Restoration House, ‘‘as ifstudying every brick’’, making italmost possible, even after all thistime, to stand, briefly, in his shoes.

As if.

Colin Hogg travelled to London at hisown expense.

CHECKLIST

LONDON

Rochester

UK

20km

R Thames

KENT

LONDON AND ROCHESTER■ GETTING THEREAir New Zealand connectionsto London start from $2771(including fees and taxes), returnvia Asia. For more information goto www.airnewzealand.co.nzFrom London, you can get a returntrain trip (leaving from Victoria orCharing Cross) to Rochester foraround $37.■ WHAT THE DICKENSWander the Dickens locationsyourself or join a tour like thoselisted on www.britishtours.com.Entry to the British Museum is free,but the Dickens exhibition will cost$16.50.■ FURTHER INFORMATIONwww.dickensworld.co.uk orwww.visitrochester.com.