Come With Me Gentle Reader to the Last Home of Jane Austen

Today the ever lovely Ian and I decided to blow away the cobwebs and go visit a gallery and museum over in Alton, with the intention of my looking up some Anglo Saxon artifacts they have on display there. But having got there we discovered both were shut on Mondays...thank goodness it's only a 30 minute or so drive from where we live! Undeterred and struggling to master a fit of the giggles at our obvious ineptitude (which rather startled several uber-cool sixth formers passing by who gave us a decidedly wide berth) we then reverted to a hastily contrived Plan B, and headed off to the village of Chawton, famed as the last residence of Jane Austen.

It's at this point, gentle reader, I feel compelled to tell you I'm not one of Jane Austen's biggest fans - far too many heaving repressed bosoms for my liking, give me the wild moors and brooding Heathcliff any day - but it seemed churlish not to take advantage of the spring sunshine, so to the Jane Austen House Museum we went.



For those interested, the House Museum has it's own blog which can be found here;

http://www.janeaustenshousemuseum.blogspot.com/

but I thought as I'd gone armed with my camera, you might also like more personalised guided tour. Heaving bosoms entirely optional...

My first impression, having been asked whether I'd like to gift a donation before even paying my entrance fee was how much the shop seemed to be relying on the marketability of Colin Firth AKA Mr Darcy, who appears on everything from thimbles to wrapping paper;



Sadly not a wet shirt in sight!

Having paid our dues we made our way to the seperate bakery,



which houses the original donkey trap used by the Austin family on visits to nearby Alton. From there we made our way to the kitchen area which seemed sparsely furnished and largely reconstructed to give an impression of how things might have been, rather than perhaps how they actually were..









And so into the house, which is where things got a little confusing. In many places such as this, photography of interiors has either been entirely prohibited or allowed at the discretion of the house stewards and in this instance there was a sign indicating both regulations were in force! What to do, particularly as it was difficult to determine who actually was a steward and who a visitor? So I decided to take a gamble and take a few photos of the interior as I saw others doing, on the basis that if someone saw me and asked me to stop and delete them I would. Fortunately nobody did, so here are a few more which I hope will at least give you an impression of the interior of the house,











That last photo is of Jane Austen's tiny writing table situated near this window,



which looks out onto the gardens beyond,



and on up to the bench round a tree,



on which Ian and I sat watching sun drenched daffodils dancing in the spring breeze,



contemplating what life must have been like all those years ago. At the front of the house there's a stone plaque which explains how the house came to pass into hands of the museum - a sad reminder of history post Jane Austen,



which along with a more elaborate plaque,



seems to have been placed rather haphazardly on the front exterior of the house



Is this perhaps enough for one day? I do apologise if this is all coming out a little muddled, I can feel myself growing tired so think I ought to leave it at that for now. Tomorrow, if you'll bear with me, we'll follow the sign



and take a wander, as Jane herself is known to have done, along to Chawton House and St Nicolas Church, but for now gentle reader (last one I promise!) I bid you adieu...