Other Worlds, Other Times: Talliston House

I had the privilege to escape this world and into a collection of other lands recently. At least that's what it felt like. To step off this world and explore times and places I would never experience except in the books I read and write. 

Talliston House looks unassuming from the outside; just another semi-detached house surrounding a green in an Essex town. But it is far more than it seems. Like a modern library building holding thousands of worlds in its books, Talliston is a museum, a ship taking you on a journey through one man's dreams, not one house but many full of stories and history and imagination. Each room of the house is a different place, a different time, all inspired by real places, real buildings, all with stories to tell. 

It starts as soon as you walk through the arched gate and into an English country garden and the scents of herbs fill the air. A standing sarsen stone at the top of the garden hints at the mystery and history this house could hold. But whatever you expect, this house is more.The level of detail shows the passion that has gone into the twenty-five years spent creating these worlds within a house. The rooms are full of objects found across the Northern Hemisphere, and others made bespoke by artisans, friends and family. Along with the labyrinthine house is a book, The Stranger's Guide to Talliston by John Tarrow, a young adult fantasy adventure novel inspired by the house he has created. 

I joined a group of SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators) Central East writers and illustrators for a day of time travel to explore, write, draw, or just sit and be immersed in the world of Talliston. The photos that follow were all taken from my Samsung phone's camera so they are not the usual quality but I hope they give a sense of the creativity and passion that has gone into Talliston House and that it inspires you to visit one day and to read the book. 

I didn't get any photos of the English garden but once the tour through the house was complete we all settled in the Fountain Courtyard, Ireland, 1933, to drink tea or coffee and catch up before starting to sketch, write, or explore some more. 

And so my camera's journey starts in the courtyard where the sun shone bright on the new summer flowers. Bees buzzed around the lavender (although they were a little camera shy!), water bubbled from a hidden fountain and the courtyard beckoned me to find its hidden treasures. 

A frog trapped in stone, clinging to a flower pot and desperate to catch a fly.

A grape vine dappled the sunlight streaming into the pergola, making it a haven when sitting in the sun got to be too much.

The Cabin, Canada, 1948. Underneath the railway sleeper floorboards is hidden a full size "tipi" just waiting to be taken out into a field to stretch its leather wings.

The Watchtower, Snowdonia, Wales, 1887. A Victorian Christmas in Wales made to look like the 13th Century castle keep of Llewylyn Ab Iowerth, Dolwyddelan.

 The Office. New York, 1929

The Hall of Mirrors. Italy, 1992.

The Haunted Bedroom. Scotland, 1911.

The Room of Dreams, Spain 1977

The Starhouse, Japan, 2282.

The Voodoo Kitchen, New Orleans, 1954

It felt strange to leave this place later that day. As if we truly had travelled far from the England we knew and into the world of Talliston. Even when we were sitting in the Fountain Courtyard, we were oblivious to the neighbouring houses. England went on without us while we stepped out of time and into another. I regret not taking my canon camera and not taking photos of The Labyrinth (Great Dunmow, England, 1852), The Boathouse (Norway, 1986) and The Treehouse Sanctuary (Cambodia, 1965) but perhaps I will return in the future to be inspired by Talliston again.

For more information on Talliston visit: https://www.talliston.com

Relaxing in Rumburgh

Where do country folk go on holiday? Well for us, it's not the city or even the beach this time but deeper countryside and farmland. Only about 60 minutes north of Ipswich, past avenues of autumn colour on the A12, lies Rumburgh Farm. It's a working farm between Halesworth and Bungay offering self-catering accommodation in the form of two spacious lodges around a trout lake. Mum and Dad had been before but it was my first adventure there. Away from the continuous bangs and rumbles of both Harwich and Felixstowe harbours, it was a quiet week away to relax, write, fish, and well, do nothing. 

I say quiet... Every morning turkeys were released into their orchard-like enclosure, screeching and popping but they settled down to become pleasant background noise... unless someone walked past them. Then they went manic again. There was a distant growl of cars over the flat Suffolk landscape and the farmers fertilising the fields around us. Some F-15 jets paid us a very low-flying visit but were too quick to photograph. And the moorhens and trout gave us some good entertainment. 

It's safe to say I haven't taken my camera out for an extended period for quite some time. I'm glad I did. The sunsets were beautiful over the lakes and the sunrises, when I was awake to catch them, were also special. We didn't do much exploring past the trout lake and the carp lake across the road, instead enjoying having no set activities or places to go. I fished, did little writing, and spent a lot of time just watching the changing moods of the lake throughout the day. The photos that follow are just a small selection from the week.

Kingfisher Lodge at sunset.

Sunset over the trout lake.

Sunrise at 7:30 on the first morning, over the carp lake.

The carp seemed a little more lively than the trout. These guys loved to send arrows across the water. That morning they played a comical game with me. Some of the fish enjoyed leaping fully out of the water but I could never catch them at it. Every time I turned to leave, a fish would jump and I would then decide to stay a bit longer to try catch the perfect photo. But they won the game and I just laughed at their comic timing.

Is that really a carp or at their more sinister beings in the tiny lake? 

Autumn colours always add to sunsets and sunrises.

After the first day and a bit, Storm Callum's winds left us and we were treated to a mirror for a lake. It's perfect stillness was only broken by the moorhens and the odd feeding trout.

Golden hour one evening meant some great shots of Dad fishing.

One evening the moorhens had a fight with what seems to have been a rival family. The light wasn't great for my camera and they were on the other side of the lake and I couldn't zoom in as far as I would have liked.

A still evening.

Mirror water

I didn't know it at the time, but this dragonfly had probably only recently emerged from his moult. His wings were still a little crinkled and he was determined not to leave the railing around the verandah even when I was inches from him.

We had a lovely time at the farm even though I failed to land any trout - I had a few hook in but the flies came loose from the line! Next time, perhaps we'll try another season so we can spot more wildlife and birds and explore the surrounding countryside more.