Grantham, England Grantham has a special place in the hearts of many Britons, specifically those who were fans of Margaret Thatcher. She was born here, where her father owned a corner grocery store, and despite her humble beginnings, rose to lead her country. This is a photo of that grocery store today, housing a chiropractor/beauty treatment establishment.
Thatcher served as Prime Minister from 1979 to 1990 and leader of the Conservative Party from 1975 to 1990. She was the longest-serving British prime minister of the 20th century and the first woman to hold the position. A Soviet journalist dubbed her the “Iron Lady,” a nickname that became associated with her uncompromising politics.
Ironically, a few doors down from the corner is a house labeled #10, a taste of things to come. The door is painted an appropriate black, matching the door at 10 Downing Street.
She continues to be celebrated here, though not universally admired. Many objected to her statue, raised several years ago. She is a divisive and omnipresent figure, even in death.
We are staying on the High Street, in an old hotel called the Angel and Royal. It has had its share of royal visitors over the centuries, though thankfully it has been electrified and modernized. Reputedly England’s oldest inn, the place has been in service since 1203. The Royal part of the name was added in 1866 after a visit from the Prince of Wales, later Edward VII.
When we first surveyed the High Street, the area seemed a bit depressed, with lots of empty store fronts and a general “dollar store” ambiance.
But yesterday, we went a block over and saw the Saturday market going strong. The sun was shining, lots of people were out, and the stalls were busy. Quite a different atmosphere from what we had seen the day before.
It was a very multi-ethnic community too. There was a colorful Diwali celebration going on, though our friend Sunita says they were a few days early. But their excitement drew an enthusiastic crowd.
After our trip to Belton, we came back to town and visited Saint Wulfram’s Church. A church has been on this site for over 1000 years, and today’s church has stood since the 15th century. Its tower is 286 feet high, making it the third tallest parish church in the country — a real point of pride. Isaac Newton had scratched a pencil drawing of the church and steeple on one of the walls in his house, proving he found it equally worthy of note.
He merited a statue in the town square, making him a partner with Thatcher as Grantham’s points of pride. What an odd couple, no? A romantic fog softened the whole effect this morning.
The balance of our day was spent traveling. We went by train to Leeds, for an hour and a half, then by bus to Newcastle for three hours, due to track renovations. Not so terrible.
Don’s Food Corner
We got to Newcastle famished. I noticed that Chinatown was a few blocks away from the hotel, so we sprinted over there and were happy we did.
Chinatown in Newcastle is one portion of one block, but we were lucky to find a great place. We started with vegetable spring rolls. Very fine. Very delicate.
We went on to crispy fried chicken pieces in a lemon sauce. Again, extraordinary, with a light batter on the chicken and a heavenly light lemon sauce. We also had what they called chow mein, which was the closest we could find to lo mein. We had the shrimp version and, like everything else at this restaurant, it was delicately prepared with a light sauce. All in all, excellent.
The young waitress was thrilled to be able to speak with Americans. In fact, it seemed that all the wait staff was sent over to speak with us. I guess the sight of Americans is rather rare in Newcastle, or at least in Chinatown. Our primary waitress rattled off the names of all her favorite American movies and TV shows, with an American accent.
Earlier in the day we stopped for tea and an obligatory scone, as well as a less obligatory Bakewell tart. The scone was apple and cinnamon, and they heated it for us. The heating seemed to have been done in a microwave, which made the scone soft and cakey. Jo loved it. I thought that it had deviated too far from a traditional scone. It was delicious, but it really wasn’t a scone. As such, it cannot be rated against other more traditional scones we’ve encountered so far.
The Bakewell tart was as I’ve seen it prepared on the Great British Baking show, so that must be correct. It was moist and packed with fruit. Delightful.
