Godshill

The first Sunday of our recent holiday on the Isle of Wight was rather damp and overcast, so we thought that the answer was a visit to the model village at Godshill (reference 1). Much mist to be seen over the downs along the south of the island as we drove the road along the downs running through the middle of the island.

Promising looking public house

Godshill fairly quiet when we arrived, looking to have far more tea rooms and so forth than would be necessary.

In any event, we elected to do the model village first, which was good as there were enough people to give the place a bit of life, but not enough to reduce one to a crocodile, a feature of some visitor attractions which I find most off-putting. Although billed as a model village, the place is affiliated to the RHS, which gave us something off, an affiliation which was entirely justified by the gardens in which the models were set, with a huge range of dwarf conifers and bonsai, in pretty good condition.

The village included the conceit of a model of Godshill, including a model of the model village. A conceit which went down about three layers before it ran out of puff.

Servicing Jurassic Park

We also had a model railway, complete with at least two locomotive sets on the move, if that is the right way to say it.

And a wind turbine planted on a hill, about 12 feet high. Not sure of the extent to which it was a scale model. It looked as if it could actually generated electricity - but perhaps not when there are visitors.

Turbine

The only down side to all this for BH was the figures, modelled on the sort of figures - and especially the faces  - you used get on saucy seaside postcards from Donald McGill's studio. Some of which, I now know, upset the authorities, were gathered up and incinerated.

Out to take tea in the tea shop next door, a place which may well have shared gardeners with the model village. A large and well appointed establishment, serving good tea and cake, quiet when we were there.

The Willow Tree

After which, through the village (plenty of thatch, just the sort of thing for jigsaws and boxes of sweets) and up the steps to the church, which turned out to be a rather rum place. Very Anglo-Catholic.

Massive east-end buttresses

The outside of the vault of the Williams family

The inside

The door

Note the use of what looks like a rail from the railway in the middle snap. Perhaps the vault is not as old as it at first looks.

Window tax

Perhaps the window tax came out of the tithe, so the rector of the day opted, on advice from the Church Commissioners, to block a few windows up.

Restricted view

I think if I had paid for such a grand monument, I would be a bit annoyed to find myself hidden behind the new organ. Nothing to be seen of the altar from where I lie.

The rood, presumably Victorian

High altar

Sanctuary light lit, as is proper when the Host is present. Not sure why the Host itself is shrouded. Note the bottom of the ancient cross with lily painting, according to Wikipedia, only one of two such still extant in the whole of Europe.

Lots of tablets and so forth to Worsleys, one of the big families on the island, including the collecting seventh baronet who once owned the once grand but now derelict Appuldurcombe House. He also sat for the rotten borough of Newtown for a while. I think we came across Worsley overflow in other churches, perhaps Arreton, a point to be checked up on next time we are on the island.

Back down to the town which was now much busier, including a coach party of Maltese, led by a lady tour guide, also from Malta, in very gaudy fancy dress. No chance of losing her!

The Griffin turned out to be rather full, rather like a Wetherspoon's on a Sunday lunchtime, and we wound up in the Taverners (reference 5), where we had a very decent roast beef lunch. A good portion of beef, thick cut, but a little rare for my taste these days. White enamel pie dishes containing vegetables which were well above average for such a place. Wine fine. Lemon meringue pie looked very high and rather odd, but it tasted a lot better than it looked.

Pie

To close the proceedings we took a look at the rather fancy gift shop, a little tucked away to our mind, possibly Coach House Gifts, visible in Street View right next to the Taverners, but without any website that I can find. Or even a Facebook page. Quite a lot of jade, quite a lot of other carved stone. Some pearls which BH rather liked, but which did not quite suit. So I settled for a brown stone ball to add to my collection of same.

Carex

Quite a decent carex pendula outside the gift shop. Pity about the frog.

Brown ball

Now residing on the study window sill, next to the rather large stone ball bought from Appley Tower on Ryde Esplanade, quite some years ago now. About the right size for hand exercises, perhaps as an aid to relaxation after a busy day. I seem to recall that such things were all the rage a few years ago.

At which point we called a halt, and BH drove us home.

Reference 1: https://www.modelvillagegodshill.co.uk/.

Reference 2: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/07/independent.html. We have visited the place before, but perhaps it was before the arrival of blogging, this being the only reference to Godshill turned up in the archive.

Reference 3: https://www.bekonscot.co.uk/. Another model village, visited about eight years ago. Same sort of thing, but I could not compare and contrast.

Reference 4: https://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/search?q=bekonscot+whales. The visit.

Reference 5: https://www.thetavernersgodshill.co.uk/.