Category: Europe
Now that we have reached the beginning of 2007, it seems an appropriate place to take stock of 2006. So far, this year has begun as cloudily as 2006, but the latter did brighten up as January moved on and opportunities for walking trips soon presented themselves and continued to do so over the course of the rest of the year.
January began with a trot to Edinburgh for the post-Christmas sales. After that, the idea of catching a Caledonian Sleeper - a first for me and an expensive one at that - from Crewe to Fort William proved too tempting for me. After travelling overnight, I woke up to a memorable morning in the Scottish Highlands. Once I had sorted out somewhere to stay, an easy task in Fort William in January, I started walking in the sun on what turned out to be a very memorable day. It started with a trot along the Great Glen Way to Caol before I headed into Glen Nevis. Once there, I climbed to Dun Deardail via the West Highland Way, taking in memorable views along the way. A tired but happy walker made his way back to his base for the night, snoozed a little before getting something to eat and walking under the street lights along the coast road pondering the quiet of Fort William, hardly believing that it was the same tourist magnet frequented many a time during high season. Pathetic fallacy prevailed, with rain accompanying my departure by coach after the short but memorable visit. The next weekend saw me head to Northumberland for a hike along the coast between Alnmouth and Craster, a day trek that showed opportunities for the future. The following weekend saw me sampling the Pony Track up the slopes of Cadair Idris, near Dolgellau. A little snow was encountered high up, but the sun was well out, though the north-facing slope remained frozen underfoot: a pleasurable experience (then new to me) that could not be spoiled by a little slip on frozen grassland as I neared the end of my descent. I also snaffled a Sunday stroll around Lyme Park among this lot.
February was largely unfavourable, unless you enjoy walking in the rain. However, I took my chances at the end of the month and completed Yorkshire's Three Peaks; I summited Pen y Ghent a few years ago. Snow and ice were negotiated carefully on the higher east-facing slopes of Ingleborough and its summit; a descent of its western slopes avoided descending with such conditions underfoot. The walk started at Ribblehead railway station on the Settle-Carlisle railway line and finished in Ingleton, which used to have a railway station of its own time, a different line that hasn't survived the passage of time. Buses got me back to Skipton, from where my train journey home commenced. The following Saturday saw me ascend Whernside, completing Yorkshire's trio. The weather remained pleasant until the final approach to Whernside's summit, when clag, snow and rain came down from the north. I also had to watch my step due to the paved path up Whernside's eastern slopes having become iced up; I can cope with snow, but ice has me considering the purchase of crampons; I have yet to acquire such items. While the clag made me pay attention to my map reading, a useful stone wall and clear track guided me up and over. However, what was snow on the top became rain at lower altitudes, and the return to Ribblehead station became a bit of a slog. After a chilly wait, I was delighted to see my train home. The experience of a wet jacket in cold conditions sowed the seeds that bore fruit in my acquisition of a Rab Latok jacket later on.
Early March greeted us with snow, and an intended Sunday trip to the Derbyshire dales got interrupted by arresting views around the Cat and Fiddle Inn between Macclesfield and Buxton. My new plan took me from the aforementioned pub around the slopes of Shining Tor into the Goyt Valley, with wonderful grippy powder dry snow underfoot, before I picked up the Midshires Way that took me into Buxton for my return home.
April provided its chances too, staring with a Wednesday afternoon stroll from my house, around Tegg's Nose, through Macclesfield Forest to Forest Chapel and Shutlingsloe before returning home via Langley; a good day's walking from my doorstep. Easter weather was a mixed bag, yet it transpired that I stayed overnight on Ayrshire's Isle of Arran on Easter Sunday, taking in Goat Fell and taking a bus trip around the island during my short visit. While the weather had its moments, my sojourn could inspire a future return. At the end of April, I took an overnight journey to Fort William for the start of a Mayday bank holiday weekend trip to Scotland's Highlands. Even though bikers had descended on the town for the weekend, as is they are wont to do every year, I did manage to get somewhere to stay on Saturday night. Following hill tracks got me from Corrour Station to Spean Bridge, yet another memorable day spent among snow-capped mountains. The next day saw me travelling to Inverness before heading to Pitlochry for a flying visit before I made my way home again. That Scottish trek takes us into May, an otherwise quiet month on the hillwalking front but one in which my blogging began, and I got to know the pungent aroma created by a field of flowering oil seed rape on my journeys too and from work.
With the coming of June, my walking again stepped up a gear. Its first weekend saw me sampling coastal walking in Pembrokeshire. This was followed by a weekend trip to Galashiels and Peebles in the Scottish Borders. The main event was a trek from Peebles to Innerleithen starting on used to be a droving road followed by some cross-country travel, made legal thanks to the Scottish Rights of Way Act, before road travel got me to Traquair and Innerleithen. Berwick-upon-Tweed was my jumping off point after a Friday night stay and Galashiels was my Borders base until I returned home on Sunday. Lockerbie was my base for the following weekend from where I went for a recce around Moffat: the Southern Upland Way and views of the Devil's Beef Tub featured.
With the coming of July, I ventured into Yorkshire again, this time for an amble from Ribblehead to Sedbergh. From Ribblehead, I followed the slopes around Whernside to reach the Craven Way before I joined the Dales Way for the final part of my walk. The track to Whernside felt like the M6 with loads of folk abroad, a big contrast to my owning summiting of Whernside when only a few souls were out and about, but that made things more pleasurable, and I was glad to leave it for the Craven Way. The rest of the walk was a largely quiet affair. A taxi journey from there to Kirkby Stephen train station set me up for my journey home. Later on in July, I took my chance for what has become my now annual summer stay in Scotland. Pitlochry was the base this year, and I have to admit that I did get away from the heat of England. From Pitlochry, I radiated out to Kinloch Rannoch, Kingussie, Kenmore, Aberfeldy and Killiecrankie. I also took in Pitlochry's local summit of Ben Vrackie. It wasn't all sunshine, yet cloudy dry days are good for making time while walking, although sunshine is often better for camera-wielders like me.
Apparently, August was forecast as being a continuation of the July heatwave but, if it was, it was to be a no-show. August's wet weather turned my mind to waterproofs, but it also meant that sunny September weekends did not get wasted. I took myself off to Moffat, with a walk along the Southern Upland Way from St. Mary's Loch back to base forming the centrepiece of the weekend. Sunday was also offering in weather terms but, sadly, other things like recovering and returning home had to take priority. I was also tired after the excursions of the previous day. For me, the other walking high point of September was a trip to Northumberland on another glorious autumn (for me, anyway) day. Views of the coast were taken in on a longer than usual journey (thanks to railway engineering works) to Berwick-upon-Tweed. While there, I took a risk and headed to Wooler for a sample of St. Cuthbert's Way and while I did get home that night, I was concerned more than once along the way.
October and November were quieter affairs. In October, my sole outing was a trot from Hadfield to Glossop by way of the Longdendale Trail, the Pennine Way and the Doctor's Gate footpath. The sun was well out and the temperatures higher than you would expect for an October Sunday. This preceded a cold snap that returned us to reality. The walk was uneventful apart from a slight misnavigation that was easily corrected. In November, I got one fine interlude that allowed me to explore the central Brecon Beacons before a long spell of wet and unsettled weather set in. On that day though, Corn Du, Pen y Fan and the other summits that I encountered were resplendent in the sunshine and their memory tempts me back.
While December may be winter's pivot, the walking continued once it stopped raining. I got to Bellingham in the heart of Northumberland by way of Carlisle and Hexham. A tramp along the Pennine Way was as muddy as could be expected after all the rain that we were getting. In fact, the day of my ramble was what we in Ireland would call a "pet day" and it was all the better for it. Later, the weather settled down a little and I got to savour the delightful views around Harlech: castle, coastline and crags. There is more to see here, so I would not rule out a return.
In summary, 2006 could be said to be the year when I started to go beyond my usual haunts a lot. England's Peak District did see me sporadically, as did Yorkshire and North Wales. Cumbria's Lake District has attracted my attention a lot over the years, yet only saw me flying by on the railway line during last year. Scotland has seen a lot more of me than in previous years, so 2006 could be labelled the Year of Scotland for me, in walking terms at least. Southern Scotland and Northumberland have seen me more than before, Northumberland hosting my boots for the first time. Continuing the southern theme, new areas of the south of Wales experienced my attentions for the first time. It has been an interesting year.
What will 2007 bring? We have to await the answer to that one. Meanwhile, all the best for the coming year and happy walking.
Last Saturday, I took myself off to Harlech in Wales for a few hours of walking. Getting there and back was a rail-only affair with a change in Wolverhampton. The arrangements for the onward journey take a small bit of explaining: two car DMU from Wolverhampton (it starts out from Birmingham) to Shrewsbury, joined to another two car DMU at Shrewsbury, train splits at Machynlleth with one portion proceeding to Aberystwyth and the other continuing up the coast to places such as Barmouth, Harlech, Porthmadog and Pwllheli. It sounds complicated but it works well in practice; just make sure that you are in the right part of the train. The same sort of thing happened on the way back. In fact, the same sort of operation, again necessitated by a single track railway line, will be familiar to anyone has travelled on the West Highland railway in Scotland.
Apart from what I suspect was a miscommunication between the central control room and a helpful lady train conductor, which nearly led to my onward journey from Shrewsbury being delayed, everything went smoothly. Harlech is set on a steep hillside, around its famous castle built by King Edward I and dating from 1283. The site for the castle was an excellent choice: views up and down the coast and set on a steep hillside to slow the approach of any prospective attackers (if they got up the steep western approach, and it appears that water ran up to its foot in former times, they'd have to contend with the substantial fortifications).

There is more to Harlech than the castle, though. For instance, beyond the flats of Morfa Harlech lie beaches of some note and golfing facilities for those with that inclination. Views across Tremadog Bay toward the Lleyn peninsula and its hills, Yr Eifl included, are complemented by those across the Glaslyn estuary towards the Eifionydd and Moelwynion mountains; all making up a superb vista. Adding to all of these delights are the Rhinogs only a few miles east of Harlech itself. My walk, with its diversions intentional and otherwise, allowed me to sample the scenery of the area. Clag was inclined to accumulate on the higher tops, but there was plenty of sunshine to enliven the aspects. On my outward journey, the sight of banks of cloud abounding over the hills of mid-Wales had me thinking that I had come too far west and was going to be under cloud all day with sunshine in plentiful supply further east, a fear happily unrealised.

I have to admit that my walk allowed me only a brief reconnaissance of the area but it is more than worthy of further visits in the future. A weekend stay is definitely a proposition and I do hope to make a return.
Last Saturday, I took my chance after all the naff weather that we have been having and headed off to the hills when the opportunity presented itself. Northumberland offered the chance of a dry day when showers were afflicting other parts. The railway got me to Hexham and back again, with changes at Manchester and Carlisle along the way. Hexham, with its centrally located abbey, was a tempting proposition, but my plans meant that it had to be left for another day. From Hexham, I took the useful Tyne Valley Coaches 880 to and from Bellingham. Plus Bus ticketing would have covered both rail and road transport but for the fact that I did not realise it: something for the future then.
While there, I took a stroll along a short section of the Pennine Way out as far as Hareshaw House before returning on another public footpath. The ramble took me into and out of the Northumberland National Park, which excludes Bellingham for some reason. Unsurprisingly given the weather that we have been having recently, muddy stretches abounded, and extra care was needed when going through any gates: I still retain the memory of having mud up to my left shin after a careless step while following the Dane Valley Way as part of a walk from the Cat and Fiddle Inn in Cheshire to Rushton Spencer in Staffordshire around this time of year in 2004. On my way back to Bellingham, I followed what clearly was an alignment of some sort, almost like the bed of a railway track and raised in places. However, its bridges over streams have not survived, so some diversions proved necessary; I still returned to Bellingham with an hour to spare, time that allowed me to savour some walks along the North Tyne (which joins with the South Tyne to give, you've guessed it, the same River Tyne that flows through Newcastle-upon-Tyne: they don't seem to expend much energy naming rivers up here) before the light faded completely.
I only got to savour but a small sample of the countryside that surrounds Bellingham, so there is further potential for walking trips. And I think that I need to find out more about the area as well...

It may have been six months since I spent some time there, but a selection of the photos that I made while out walking in Pembrokeshire have finally made it onto the web. There is now a new album to go with the trip report that was shared on here already. It was a glorious weekend visit so I hope the photos reflect the majesty of what I managed to sample while down there.

Whenever a fine day offers, I'm off on my bike to work and often take a longer route home than I took to get there. Over the years, I have managed to get in the odd recreational cycle as well. When still in Ireland, I was wont to go for regular cycles around my native West Limerick during summer holidays, and in all weathers! These days, I am far more choosy about cycling conditions. In Scotland, my biking has taken me all around Loch Tay, up along Glen Lochay and across the Isle of Skye from Portree to Dunvegan and back, all on hired/borrowed bicycles. Since I moved south to England, I have taken a bike around Yorkshire, Cheshire and even Derbyshire. I must admit that I have never ventured into Wales with a bike, though.
When based in Skipton, my cycling forays took me up into Wharfedale. One took me on to Bolton Abbey, Burnsall and Grassington before I made my back to Skipton via Threshfield. Later on, I continued past Threshfield to Cray at the head of Wharfedale, taking in Kilnsey Crag, Kettlewell, Starbotton and Buckden. As if to prove how fast weather can change, a dull day turned into a fabulous evening in the space of an hour or so. As luck would have it, I forgot my camera; I have more than made up for that since then.
These days my cycling forays seem to be limited to Cheshire, though I did cycle back to Macclesfield from Stoke-on-Trent one Friday evening during this past summer. Tatton Park, Little Moreton, Astbury, Gawsworth Hall, Lower Peover: they've all been ports of call on cycling trips. One evening, I headed over the top to Buxton, a cycle ride involved steep hills that caused me to think that hillwalking might be a worthwhile activity when exploring wild places. I cycled there but a train took me back to Hazel Grove, from where I returned to Macclesfield. The thought of re-encountering steep slopes caused me to rethink my return.
Following the Buxton trip, I restricted my cycles to the flatter parts of Cheshire but the thought of extending my range beyond has come more to the fore this year. There are two sides to this: getting around the limitations of patchy public transport networks and reducing the amount of tedious walking (yes, it does exist).
As regards the first of these, one possibility that comes to mind is the area around Sedbergh and Kirkby Stephen in Cumbria. The paucity of public transport provision is patchy makes a bike look a very liberating device, especially when it comes to exploring the Howgills. Highland Perthshire is very like this part of Cumbria in this regard and having a bike would make exploring the mountains around Loch Tay a reality without the need for a car. Other parts of Highland Scotland are like this too. For instance, a bike would really make light work of the trek from Fort William to Gairlochy (a soul-destroying walk, if ever there was one) and open up the delights of Loch Arkaig. In the spirit of this, speeding along an estate road would shorten many a walk-in, a fact that has not lost on writers in TGO and Trail. One example that comes to mind is the prospect of exploring the landscape around Loch Ericht, a great example in my view.
When I was staying in Pitlochry, I had a passing cyclist joking that I, then in full hillwalking gear awaiting a bus to take me to the start of another walk, was doing things the slow way. Highland Perthshire, like many parts of the U.K., has its share of the National Cycle Network and that puts further ideas into my head. Coming south of the English border, Northumberland has a share and this raises the possibility of exploring Northumberland's coastline by bike, an enticing prospect.
As you can see from this, I got quite a few ideas in mind. Now, all I have got to do it get around to turning them into reality and get over my fear of getting a puncture and missing a train home...