holidays

On The Island, Day 3. Could I Have My Rock Medium-Rare, Please?

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Today was our first day without the crowds. When it really starts to feel like a holiday for us, and not the world, his wife, children, campervan, dogs and canoe.

After a fairly leisurely start we set off towards one of the prime target from our holiday research, Llanddwyn Island. An island off the island.

To be accurate, it is a tidal island, but only at high tide.

After yesterday’s Watergate, we had packed fourbottles in the picnic bag; two to take with us and two to quench our thirst after the walk.

With nervous excitement we drove through the forest, paid the road toll, discussed whether I was sending us the correct way and arrived at spacious and well organised car park, complete with toilets, which would be very welcome after our planned water in-take.

We booted up and realised that we had created Watergate Two as we had left the picnic bag back at the cottage.

Undeterred, and given the cloudy skies, we set off. Initialy across soft sand which is a workout all of its own. Then through the edge of the forest, where my navigation was again called into question. There were not many other walkers about and we enjoyed our stroll towards a geocache, chatting about nothing in particular except failing memories.

The cache was tucked away, a little off a marked path, its position being (we both agreed) in an ideal caching location. Much Beloved’s opinion was probably based upon being near to a path, so with the illusion of remoteness but without the trek, and having good muggle visibility. I just thought it looked like several of the drawings used by groundspeak.

After leaving the forest and heading across another sand-gym, we were on the beach proper. Despite the haziness, the views were wonderful, from the outline of Snowden to the mountains behind Aberdesach. We soon reached the island and started a gentle ascent. Even the cattle notice didn’t phase MB, although my attempts to convince him that sheep were cattle failed. He’s an expert on his phobias.

Llanddwyn Island is a little gem. It offers good panoramas and a variety of wildlife, including choughs, ravens, oystercatchers, ponies and little birds. There are also many cormorants, but I prefer to point at one and ask “shag?”.

It is also has an interesting geological history, much of which I have forgotten, but which resulted in some very interesting rocks. This is where the beauty of the earth cache comes in. Had we not been in possesion of a GPS loaded with caches, we would not have known to head towards a particular beach.

And had we both not started to embrace the “lets just go and see” approach to apparently pointless paths, we might have decided that we could not reach said earth cache, because we thought that we had to walk along a thin high wall.

What we found was more views and this…

Or Is That Well Marbled Steak

Or Is That Well Marbled Steak

… who would have thought it? Betroot coloured rocks. And in such interesting formations. We could see where hot lava had pushed its way though and where two types of rocks had been pushed together.

The range of colours were amazing from lilac to near blood red – one rock looked like well marbled steak.

There was also bluey grey.

Almost a Tri-Colour

Almost a Tri-Colour

Incredible. We have a little research to carry out before claiming the cache, but we’ve left an on-line note to do this.

The beach was busying up as we left Llanddwyn.

Before returning to the car, Simon broke the prime directive and possibly
gave a cockle motion sickness when returning it to the sea.

As is often the case, when your mind knows that it is completing the final stretch of a walk, your legs pick up the message and yet another sand-gym had to be crossed to reach tarmac. Plus the clouds had cleared which didn’t please MB. Fortunately water was available from a burger van in the car park, so good humour was returned and we continued on our way.

Min6

On The Island, Day 2. Lights On. Lights Off.

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Well, it is our first full day in the wilderness.

I don’t want to go on about the automatic lights but the list of points against are increasing.

I’m generally an early riser, which means that for at least six months of the year it is dark when I wake. When I walk around the house I like to decide which lights I turn on; sometimes I choose none until I reach the kitchen. What I do not want is to be blinded into being full awake in one fell swoop as I step into the danger zone, sorry dining room.

And in the kitchen, I will usually choose a Hopper-esque low level light from the kitchen hood, until I am fully ready to join the day. More so on holiday, when I feel I have the right to move gently to wakefulness.

Not a chance here. “GOOD MORNING” the kitchen lights shout, one set slightly out of time with the other, and, as I am currently sitting quite still, I am suddenly plunged into semi-darkness. It could be a form of torture.

Don’t get me started on self closing drawers and cupboards.

Today we made a couple of outings. The first at one of our favourite beaches. We chose to walk to the headland and round to the next beach to avoid the crowds. Sea air is good for the soul, but selfishy, we would like it pretty much to ourselves. We are more sociable than we used to be, and I made the mistake of smiling at the man in the day-van parked next to us. Every time I turned in his direction he was grinning back while we had lunch in the car.

Our second outing was to be a walk along a reservoir, hopefully enjoying a light breeze and views of wildfowl in their adopted environment. What we were treated to was a trek in an airless tunnel of trees. There was tentative promise of water shimmering one on side, and hopefully it will be presented just around the next turn….

Eventually we reached the end of the reservoir. Much beloved was hot and tetchy, and we had forgotten our water bottle. Ironic, when you consider the view.

Water, water everywhere….. Dam. Damn.

It think that what annoyed us more was that this was not a circular walk, and we would have to suffer the same route in reverse to quench our thirst.

Back at the cottage, at the end of the garden is a chicken run with four or five hens and a rather fine looking cockerel. We had expected that we would be woken by one of nature’s alarm clocks, but no. In fact we haven’t heard him at yet at any hour. Poor chap. Perhaps he is mesmerised by the amazing flashing house.

Min6

On The Island, Day 1. The Power of Broccoli.

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On the island. It sounds exotic and remote, cut off from life’s little luxuries and ever-present techno-babble.

Ironic to be using WordPress then, isn’t it? Perhaps not as there is no wifi (“No wifi?), so any uploads will have to be facilitated by parking in the nearest McDonald’s.

Or I may end up posting each day’s rambles a week later after we return (I did).

Not so remote then? Well, as I step outside, all I can hear is birdsong, the wind in the trees and the exchange of calls between nearby cattle.

No luxuries? Actually, our lodgings are spacious, clean and, with the exception mentioned above, very well equipped. Too well equipped in one area, in my opinion.

I am referring to what has become known as the “broccoli-activated” lights in the kitchen and dining room. These are motion and light sensitive, so turn themselves on when it is dark enough and you enter the room. Excellent idea? Nope. At twilight, we had to fool them into thinking it was darker, by partially blocking out the light from the sensor and at the same time presenting it with motion. I chose to wave a small handful of tender stem broccoli. Seemed to do the trick.

Some people may like automatic lights as they no longer need to worry about switching them off when they leave a room possibly saving energy and therefore doing their bit to save the planet. I don’t like the abdication of responsibility. Call me a Luddite, but is it really that much effort to reach for the switch? Like so many gadgets, we are discouraged from thinking about our actions, planning our schedule, cleaning up after ourselves.

And besides, we’ve eaten the broccoli now. How will we drag ourselves from the darkness tomorrow?

Min6

The Panda Cow And The Fridge Shelf

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Well, after perfect navigation (moi) and near perfect driving (him) including braving the scary single track road!!!!, we have arrived at our base for the week.

We are close to the Welsh village of Tregaron. We know little more about it at this point, because we a too scared to go back down the scary single track road. Maybe tomorrow. Or when the food runs out.

The ‘cottage’ is well appointed, and has lovely surroundings. The adjacent fields boast lambs and a mixed herd of young male cattle. Including one with panda like eyes, who I shall not call Bernard. He is not my favourite bullock and I shall not be talking to him.

We have been entertaining ourselves by reading some of the entries in the visitor book. This evening’s gem comes courtesy of the Esbachs and Bennett of Marple and Todmorden (by the way, there was an unnecessary apostrophe, but we have removed it to protect their identity). Their observations included

“the broken fridge door tray was frustrating”.

It has taken us quite a while to find said tray. In fact we believe it to be a shelf. Charmingly repaired it is. Frustrating it is not.

Frustrating is the lack of concern for spelling and correct grammar. The non-words “wonderfull” and “definately” make frequent appearances.

Never mind, we are glad not to live next to either the Esbachs or Mr/Mrs/Ms Bennett. They probably would not like us either.

It’s the black fly in your Picpoul de Pinet
(not A Morrisette)

Chilled,

MinG

Apr 9th

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Not much seemed to happen on Tuesday April 9th.

We did visit Whisby Nature park which was very pleasant. Although the main focus is on water based wildlife, they did have some sheep, so I took a photo.

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We also bought some fantastic cake, but then the day descended into a bit of moody stand off so we headed back to base and I went to bed for an hour -unsmiley face.

Tomorrow would be better….

MinG

Apr 8th 2013, Donna, Amy and Connie

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After a late start (we only woke at 6am today), we headed out towards Sainsbury’s to top up on essentials and luxuries.

First stop was one of our old favourites, the Belmont Mast. This is situated near to Donnington on Bain. Unlike many radio masts which are on hills and generally viewed from some distance, the Belmont Mast is in a field next to the road. And it is massive. It used to be the tallest mast in Europe until the top hundred feet or so were removed. The information board states that it is 750ft high, but it was added to and was over 1000ft before the haircut. I can’t remember the exact the stats. Si would be able to tell me, but he is asleep.

As casual geocachers, we decided to bag a couple en route to our lunch stop.

The first was in a field hedgerow, where we left a rather fussy trackable which was only supposed visit caches with the word travel in the title. Without full internet connectivity to research possible hides, we gave up and passed the burden onto the next unsuspecting cacher. It was a good cache spot, but not easy to park up at, so we moved on.

The next was in a favourite lay-by near Burgh-On-Bain. I had already researched this and let Si do the searching. We logged and moved on to our lunchtime date with Donna Nook.

Donna is a place by the way. A bleak windy spot on the east coast. We had planned a walk but it was bleaker and windier than our previous visit in February 2008 so, after a brief temperature tester, we gave up. Still, lunch was pleasant and the people watching amusing.

Then onto see Amy.

Amy is a small village boasting a wildfowl collection at a retired watermill. Two of our favourite pastimes. We were chased by a belligerent chicken and treated to a fine display by a peacock. We also discovered that not all otters are scared of Si. Which pleased him.

Amy was also cold. Bone chillingly cold, but we persevered around the sanctuary and took some pictures which I will probably add to this at a later date.

Our final stop was chez Connie. RAF Conningsby to give her official title.

Si is a military aircraft enthusiast, inherited from his father (how else?), who completed his national service in the RAF.

We descended upon the equivalent of fraggle rock and waited for action. We didn’t have to wait long. Plenty of ‘phoon action and even the Battle of Britain DC3 put in an appearance much to the excitement of all the spotters in the enclosure. Again I hope to be able to post photos soon.

Then back to base to reflect on a day of wings galore.

Cloud:Altocumulus
Placename: Mavis Enderby (ooh Rita, I don’t really know…..)

MinG

April 7th 2013. Majesty and Wonder

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This morning started early. Which surprised both of us. By 8am we were heading towards Lincoln.

We both wanted to visit the cathedral. Whilst Sunday might not have been the most obvious day to visit, there are services daily and we hoped to be able to peruse peripheral architecture before completing our tour between communions.

Arrival in the city did not start well, as we observed “Events Management Companies” erecting crowd control barriers and bright banners announcing the Lincoln 10k Charity Run. Much beloved was starting to mumble and grumble about turning around.

Undeterred I persuaded him to continue to the castle, where we found a good parking spot for a price which was also good (if you happen to be the chief accountant for Lincoln City Council).

We donned our boots for a brisk walk and I led sulky child towards the Cathedral quarter. Historical information boards would not cheer him, so I decided to ask a man wearing “the high-vis jacket which symbolises wisdom and authority“ whether we were in danger of becoming trapped in the city by the “fun run” (he didn’t seem to appreciate this tag for the gruelling ordeal ahead of a major city event). He was however, very helpful and armed with a small amount of his wisdom knew our timetable and, more importantly, our exit strategy.

When we made our way through the nearby gate house an exit strategy was the last thing our minds. We were stopped in our tracks by the majestic west end of Lincoln Cathedral. We have seen the building on numerous occasions from several miles away and had commented on how it would have appeared to workers in the fields centuries ago. Si calls it “shock and awe”.

When we entered the Cathedral, it was not what I would call shock, but we were most definitely in awe. In fact we were dumbstruck, reduced to gasps of wonder at the sheer size of the knave and unnerved by what I can only call the sheer spirituality of the space. It is very difficult to put into words. It was a moment that I will never forget.

Regrettably our enforced timetable and the restrictions of Sunday worship would not allow a full appreciation of this landmark and a return visit is planned for early on Wednesday.

The rest of the day was enjoyable, but somehow insignificant by comparison.

The clouds were mainly Altocumulus Stratiformis. At least they tried to be, they never quite covered large areas of sky.

The placename award goes to

    Carlton Scroop

Si decided that Scroop would be a Dickensian character. I plumped for the occupation of Tax Collector.

MinG

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April 6th 2013, On our way, aren’t we?

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Ah yes. A week away with the much beloved. Shortly after a significant birthday (him, not me).

The journey was delayed briefly by the car not starting. Poo we said (and worse). Never mind, the AA arrived within 30 mins and shortly afterwards we were on our way.

I had been elected as diver for stint one, with Si taking over at a spot of my choosing which was supposed to contain a geocache. It didn’t but Si cheered me up by attempting to leave via a dead end (I stopped him in time).

Upon swapping I could, between navigational instructions, partake of one of my favourite pastimes, finding interesting or amusing placenames near to where we happen to be..

Technology can be a wonderful thing but a sat-nav does not easily enable one to enjoy virtual diversions from the prescribed route.

And so, one of the themes for the week has presented itself. Placenames of interest or amusement, or better still both.

Not far from where we swapped over, we were gifted:
– Oughtibridge. We are not entirely sure why this brought about a fit of the giggles. It might have been something to do with oxygen starvation on the Woodhead Pass. It is more likely that it is only a letter away from sounding like nowty-bridge, if we have the correct pronunciation.
– Dungworth. No prizes for guessing why that made it onto the list.
– Wigtwizzle. My favourite of the three.

We elected to omit that well known town, which I am reliably informed by a former inhabitant is pronounced PEN-IS-TONE. Ahem.

Not long after such fun we were presented with more roundabouts than you could shake wigtwizzle stick at and the game was temporarily suspended. However we had to bend the rules slightly to allow a road name in:

BILLY BUTTON LANE

I kid you not. It is on the A638 not far from Retford. Excellent.

    Clouds


I am a great admirer of clouds. They fascinate me. I am hoping that the week away will present some absolute crackers in an area where there is plenty of all round sky watching available.

Saturday 6th April was a very pleasant day and we were blessed with countless cumulus humilis en route to the cottage we are renting. Even the man made plumes of Gainsborough power station didn’t spoil the view (if you had your back to them and could not see the station near Helmswell either!).

And so to rest a while in Lincolnshire. Home of the poacher who will visit our table later this evening.

MinG

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Wet and windy

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It’s just beginning to get light here…

here is North West Wales. We are taking a short break not to far from home base, arriving yesterday.

Yesterday’s journey was fun, but it’s taken me a little longer to wind down. Probably because this is our first break away for over 18 months, and recent annual leave has been utilised more than enjoyed as study time.

But the hunched shoulders are starting to relax and the opportunity of a walk on the beach is pulling me out of the daily grind-mind-set.

When I say the beach, I mean choice of the many fine beaches only a short drive from the cottage – sounding like a holiday brochure there, but it’s true; this area has several just a stones skim away.

Yesterday we visited Dinas Dinlle (apologies to Welsh speakers if misspelt). Previously known only to me as a venue for ‘pleasure’ flights in rickety old planes. The other half was completed blown away (we both nearly were) by my open-eyed wonder at what to him has always been just the end of the runway. A mixture of salty air, pebbles, sand, waves and being able to see for miles towards Anglesey and beyond signified the proper start of our holiday.

This is my first blog entry away from home base, using an unfamiliar set up, but I’ll try to load a picture onto this one.

…… and breathe …..

min6