Category: Europe
Never the best to go rushing time
4th February 2014 When I was looking for my first step into the world of work after university, the quietness of some months were frustrating. January and September appear to fall into this category but I now see them differently. The sense of stasis has not gone but I now prize it because so much of a year can go in a frenzy. A working life will do that with its many deadlines and the events of family life can do the same as I found last year. Then, there can be the chasing of good weather from the start of year until summer. The whole mix can leave one so exhausted before autumn comes that hibernation looks attractive. It quite possibly explains my energy profile over the course of a year.
One matter that makes me wonder is when I start hearing about events towards the end of year being advertised right at the beginning. Concerts given by famous artists may be very desirable but why go wishing away the present? The same trick is used by marketing folk in the world of digital technology too and the risk is that you never appreciate what you have. Sections of the technology media do not help matters by speculating over what might be in the next iPhone or iPad but does it matter? Much of the time, the hubbub needs ignoring so we can enjoy any other delights that come our way in this life.
Another thing that amazes me is long term planning. Some plan their holidays a year in advance and I ask myself how on earth do you know how things will be then. Life's twists and turns bring the unexpected and that may be the comfortable situation that you expect either. Laying out your life before you just sounds like hubris to me and recent years have enforced that thinking with the progressive frailties of elderly parents. Parents of young children may feel the same. Your life may feel like it is being put hold but the present can bring joys too.
There is no doubt that January can feel too quiet for some and minds go racing ahead to designs on summertime holiday bliss. With days like Blue Monday and the current long run of stormy weather, such escapism is understandable. However, Blue Monday actually came up sunny this year so you could cheer yourself with a walk away from our more built up areas. That may not cure money worries or people trouble but the past year has reinforced for me how essential a good walk can be for easing a troubled mind and thinking over things. Even venting stress through footsteps often is what is needed and is all the better so no one else gets hurt by what is going on within you. Complaints from knees and feet are better than those from others with injured minds.
The real use of a quiet January is to take stock before the year's distractions get cracking. The month wasn't so quiet in 2013 but 2014 brought what was needed and my mind could wander elsewhere. On digital maps, I have ranged over the hills of mid Wales and along the courses of the Wye and Severn rivers that rise in Pumlumon. The Black Mountain in the Brecon Beacons National Park has been perused too while a general survey of transport possibilities have been ongoing. Any bus service that looks useful was noted with Sundays being better to avoid until the summertime Beacons Bus network recommences. While a little stay to sample what is in those places sounds promising, no dates are set as the course of life remains largely unknown and the uncertainties and vagaries of the weather lie among those.
It was the same sort of metal wandering that led to my visiting the Western Isles in August 2008. Quieter times allowed the formulation of an escapade that I am loathe to consider at the moment. Then, the playing with different configurations actually led to one that fitted in a week when other parts of the U.K. and Éire were getting a soaking. However, I pulled a cracker that I never will forget.
Another thing that I relished last month is a sense of steadiness that was so different from how much of 2013 felt. It so felt like bliss that it was tempting to procrastinate and leave some less pleasant and necessary tasks for later. Those now need listing and tackling because procrastination is not the way to go either. It's as bad as wishing away time ahead of summer holidays or the launch of an attractive gadget. Moments need seizing even if the freedom to relax a little is all the more appealing; no one can relax all the time.
January is not only for contemplating and designing escapades because it can have some of its own too. 2011 saw me head to Wales, Scotland and Ireland on successive weekends before I was swamped with work. Being in the off season does mean cheaper deals and lured me to Edinburgh and Llangollen one weekend after another. The first allowed me to recall times from my student days in a wonderful city and the second had me threading new ground with views of spots seen and sampled on previous outings.
February can be less frantic too though it was filled with angst in 2011 and weighed down on me in 2013. In 2012, it was so different with a weekend trip to savour a section of Northumberland's coastline that I had walked under cloudier skies. Last weekend, I got as far as Lincoln to visit its cathedral and its castle. The latter is under restoration ahead of the octocentenary of the signing of the Magna Carta next year. Currently, all the scaffolding is restricting what you can see so I didn't get the photo of Lincoln Cathedral that I had fancied. Another visit when it's all done sounds a possibility though the entry prices surely will have gone up from £2 for an adult by then. English Heritage look after the old Bishop's Palace and charge £4.60 for adult entry so that maybe what the entry charge for Lincoln Castle should be. Even with a reduced charge, the lady issuing my ticket took pains to tell me how little there was to see though a free tour was available if I fancied that. In the event, what was there satisfied me and I rather fancy the idea of seeing more should the occasion arise. What I saw around Lincoln's Cathedral Quarter looked very attractive on a sunny Sunday and I'd venture that the actual cathedral itself is more ornate than York Minster too. I left for home with a sense of satisfaction.
Whatever others may say or think, I have a certain affection for the months of January and February. They can be the calm before a frenzy and escapes from the everyday are a possibility. While having a breather appeals to me at the moment, there is no harm clearing niggling tasks out of the way too and the post-Christmas clearance often allows the space for doing exactly that. Then, it is a matter of taking the rest of the year as it comes. After all, long term planning often gets derailed by life itself.
The North
22nd January 2014 Having been tempted by a recommendation from Simon Armitage (Yorkshire poet and author of Walking Home) on the cover of the hardback edition in a bookshop, I got a digital copy of Paul Morley's The North and set to making my way through it. Anyone seeking something with a linear narrative will not find it here yet it lets one on a lot of the spirit of northern England in its own inimitable way. The mixture of memoir, digressions and side notes takes some acclimatisation and I found the sense of repetition in the book's early stages a little frustrating in that it felt as if not much progress was being made. Maybe that was because of the description of a young mind's developing consciousness and sense of place and belonging to there. Later on, things grew more linear when it came to telling of how Morley worked out his place in the world and what trade was to allow him to pay his way in it.
Interspersed between these, there is a reverse chronology of notable events in the north of England, especially when those relating to the development of the place and those who come from there. These include politics, industry and the better known folk associated with these. The interjections complemented any explorations of the conceptualisation of what it meant to be northern English and how the north of England came to be how it is in the main text.
Because I read the book in fits and starts before longer journeys allowed me to spend more time with it and grow accustomed to its eccentricities, a few months elapsed before I finished it during that trip to Edinburgh a few weeks ago. The non-linearity of the narrative meant that that it took some work before I got used to it and the fact that I was reading it on my Nexus 7 made me wish for hardback so that I could see more progress (one came into my possession later so I can dip in and out of it during free moments at home). However, it was the electronic gadget that ensured that the book was with me when I could make time to read it, a common failing of mine when it comes to paper editions of books. Apparently, the inspiration for the book's structure came from The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman and it was the familiarity of many of the places described within its pages that drew me along while filling me in on a lot of details that I otherwise would have missed. For one thing, I never realised how fluid the Cheshire-Lancashire county boundary has been over the centuries and there was but a single lesson found in those pages.
After the effort of working through The North, it's time for a more leisurely read and Ramble On by Sinclair McKay is just that. The story of how recreational walking became what it is for so many of us today may be somewhat familiar to me but there always are other insights and these are to be found here too. Still, I am tempted to sample Tristram Shandy to see just how contorted its narrative is and test how it inspired the flow of The North. For now though, that can wait because it is best to take things easy while life's events allow you to do so.
A month for slipping and sliding?
21st January 2014 Over the weekend, I got to spend some time around Llangollen. For a while, I have been having designs on exploring the hills of Llantysilio Mountain and Sunday finally saw me reach the top of Moel y Gamelin. Though time constraints meant that was the only hilltop of the bunch that I sampled, the views from there were in all directions and had me savouring sights that I had seen before, albeit from different angles. With all the value that was given, I was happy to save the hill's neighbours for other days. Having not been around Llangollen for the most of three years, some concrete reasons are in order if I am to return sooner.
After the area has found its way into the enlarged Clwydian Range and Dee Valley Area of Natural Beauty. That happened during the second half of 2011 when other things were eating up my time. The visit that I paid around Easter of that year still remains as fresh in my mind as if it happened only a few weeks ago. What happened longer ago was a visit to Denbigh and Ruthin that skirted the Clwydian Range and an abortive attempt to reach them from Llangollen by way of the Offa's Dyke Path National Trail that was halted in Llandegla before a return to Wrexham was made. Continuing north from there would be good (a visit to Moel Famau could be nice) and bus services around those parts seem to be more useful than they were then. Let's hope austerity never affects them quite like what is happening in the north of England.
It was during the first months of 2004 when I first embarked on day trips to Llangollen as a compensation for a failed attempt to get to Dolgellau. Then unruly housemates didn't help with the realisation of that ambition with an all night party accompanied by loud music until the small hours of the morning. That was enough to make me seek a place for myself that resulted in an Eastertide move. Now, it either is the ups and downs of life or my own fatigue and laziness that is to blame for such failures these days.
Those day trips to Llangollen saw me wander around by Castell Dinas Bran, along the Panorama Walk that is part of the Offa's Dyke Path north of Trefor, around by Valle Crucis Abbey. Due to the lateness of my arrival and the shorter days, the walks weren't so long apart from the aforementioned abortive trot from Llangollen to Ruthin. A preceding overnight stay would have helped that effort with an earlier start and my last two visits to Llangollen have benefited from that with the 2011 trip seeing me enjoy an evening walk around those day tripping haunts before I stayed among the flatter tops to the south of the Dee Valley where the North Berwyn Way goes as it connects Llangollen to Corwen. There also is the Dee Valley Way is you want a long circular walk between the two towns and along both sides of the valley.
Many of those visits to Llangollen were the cause of getting me muddy and last Sunday's was no different thanks to the early point in the year at which we currently find ourselves. In fact, one flawed footstep resulted in a slide and a short tumble into gorse. The resulting pricks left their marks on my legs but there otherwise is no consequence from the mishap. In fact, it reminded me of a similar one around Craigmillar Castle got me muddy when it really wasn't needed. Hopefully, these are not signs of my becoming accident prone but I am reminded of previous January skids.
In previous years, it was frozen and not greasy ground that was to blame. One slip happened while descending from Grinlow Tower, or Solomon's Temple, near Buxton. That was in January 2012 after a walk through three counties from the Cat and Fiddle Inn. The same month in 2006 had me trying out a possible route to the top of Cader Idris from Dollgellau and similar unreliable ground played its party trick on me too.
Foolish steps on branches can end stupidly too as I found in a wood near Dolwyddelan when an attempt to avoid soft ground landed me on my side on it. The day wasn't a warm one so I could have done without that wetting though I came to no harm because of it. While none of these episodes is flattering, they seem to be the sum total of such misadventures apart maybe from what a rogue stone did one one summer visit to Floddigarry on the Isle of Skye. It all makes wonder if more concentration on foot placement is in order and that does happen on steeper slopes. Maybe it's time for extra footing practice to avoid foolishness or anything more serious on downhill slopes.
Encountering ravishing surroundings while wounded inside
20th January 2014 It can be amazing how resilient the human spirit can be. After all that came my way in 2013, I am amazed at how I manage to find to some inner peace as much of the time as I do. That wasn't how it felt in April after my mother passed away the month before. Then, looking ahead didn't seem a possibility. Getting somewhat accustomed to the changed state of affairs was more than enough to slow down life itself.
In the midst of that, I took to walking every evening because that's how time can be set aside for working through things and venting any stress through footsteps so as not to hurt others. During one of these walks, I decided that a longer walk was in order and quieter hill country would be most suitable. When glorious weather came for the first Saturday in April 2013, I had my chance and it was taken without hesitation. Staying indoors dwelling just wasn't an option with the rawness that was within me. It was the hill country to the east of Hayfield and Glossop that drew me. It may attract its share of visitors, but that never means that there aren't quieter spots and quiet interludes on well frequented patches. Such was what I needed and there were plenty on the day, especially in its later hours. Those restorative moments were relished when they came.
My initial plan was to make for the track up to Edale Cross and use that for getting up to Kinder Scout after a diversion to see Kinder Reservoir from where I knew there were photos to be had, especially in bright sunshine. Once off Kinder Scout, it was to be a matter of dropping down to Glossop on the Doctor's Gate Path. However, I changed my mind during the walk, as can happen. On finding the descent to see Kinder Scout to involve the loss of more height than expected, I instead chose to go around by the dam of the reservoir and regain height on the way up to and through William Clough. Other than that, the walk was routed as intended and I have left the possibility of going along the western edge of Kinder Scout for later. On looking at its northern slopes and streaked they were with snow, it looked to have been a sensible choice.
All of this chopping and changing route lay in the future as I left Hayfield by way of the Pennine Bridleway, a multi-modal track that starts in the Derbyshire Dales and then goes north at least as far as Settle. One section is called after the off-road horse riding access campaigner Mary Townley and the whole trail also is open to moderately adventurous off-road cyclists too. Apart from Derbyshire, I also have met with it around Burnley when I used it on Pennine Way jaunts between Haworth and there.
Though the Pennine Bridleway would have carried me near Coldwell Clough and the bridleway for Edale Cross, I left it for a path for Bowden Bridge instead. That kept me alongside the River Sett for longer and past the illustrious quarry where the gathering prior to the Kinder Trespass of 1932. Looking up for some photos, my gaze revealed the location of the said plaque and I made of photo of it for a sort of keepsake.
After largely staying on the level for the start of the walk, it was time to gain some height and there was plenty of that on the track from Bowden Bridge towards Coldwell Clough. Folk were trailing in my wake so I wasn't doing this by myself but the turn away from the track leading to Ashes Farm meant that I lost them; they probably were bound for elsewhere or turned back after gaining their fill. Whatever they did, I hope what they got from their outings was memorable.
Beyond Coldwell Clough, the track to Edale was obscured by a deep white covering of snow. As I was getting to that point, a silent gentleman in a Land Rover had driven up (to my mind, he appeared to be an estate worker and there was little or no acknowledgement of any pleasantries were sent his way) and was stopped there for a while. Off-road cyclists were about too and I am unsure as to why the man in the Land Rover was waiting. As I scaled the snow-buried track, he left for somewhere else so I was wondering if was being watched for some reason, hopefully benevolent.
Beyond the snow patch, I largely had the Edale track to myself and took to looking around me. There were hills to the south of me, and these were blocking any view of the New Mills to Sheffield railway line though that enters a tunnel too to get from Chinley to Edale. Looking at the map now, hills like South Head and others near are tempting and caught my eye on visits made to Sheffield by train earlier in the year. They, like other parts, are awaiting their turn for a visit.
Kinderlow End lay right in front of me now and I was seeking the path that would get to views of Kinder Reservoir that I had not seen for the most of ten years. Those were under overcast skies and I quite fancied seeing them in prettier weather. Before then though, there was time for a spot of lunch and I needed to contend with a gate that was forced shut by a bank of snow. On finding how much I was losing to get to the sights that lay in my memory, I started to change my mind about the course that I had planned. Though it often is a wrench to do so, there are times when you can take on too much, so your cloth has to be cut from your allowance. This was one of those and I dropped down towards the Kinder Dam, crossed below it and started to gain height on the other side.
Kinder Reservoir is one of those operated by a water company and once had its own purification facility. This is now shut with the required processing going on elsewhere and broken skylights on what otherwise looks like an impressive building are signs of its redundancy; hopefully, its fate doesn't mean utter dereliction. Leaving the former purification plant after, I continued along White Brow and Nab Brow to retrace a route followed under overcast January skies in an era before this blog started. Recollection of the actual year is vague now but 2003 feels about right. Retracing of steps got sights from that earlier occasion on a more flattering and so were worth any toil. Below me lay permissive paths that encircle the reservoir and it was to pain me a little to have to lose height to go near their level to cross a stream before heading up William Clough.
William Clough never was seen by me in better conditions and I revelled in the sights that lay ahead of though the path was uncertain at times. In fact, I was unsure whether I was following an intended right of way or taking advantage of a permissive path. Either way, I negotiated my way uphill steadily and negotiation was the appropriate term when I encountered a bank of snow covering the path near the top of the clough. Once past that, I didn't have far to go before the gradients eased again. Some folk were asking me about the way down and a National Park ranger passed the way and they went with him so I assume all was well for them from that point forward.
Once above William Clough, I found that clouds had filled the sky and it looked as if hope for sunlit scenes was extinguished for the day. Hence, any photos of the northern elevation of Kinder Scout were made with a sense of making the best of what was given to me. Looking at the photo above, it is tempting to think that I wasn't being dealt cruelty either. Seeing the patches of snow made me not envy anyone following the Pennine Way north off Kinder Scout, though the possibility of following a path via Black Ashop on another day entered my head.
Unlike previous occasions, the flagged path of the Pennine Way felt long as I headed towards the A57. The route taken hardly is a direct one anyone with its liking for going east. There was one good development overhead me though in that clouds were dissolving overhead me. That was set to grant me a pleasing evening filled with the challenge of following the Doctor's Gate Path back to Glossop after crossing the aforementioned trunk road between Glossop and Sheffield.
There was a hint of what was to come in the form of a snow bank that completely engulfed what should have looked a tame gate appropriate to more domesticated terrain. With a steep incline ahead of me, I needed to gather my wits to overcome this obstacle and there were deviations from the intended right of way to deal with more ill-located snow banks and subsidence that had affected even stretches of path that weren't snow-covered. It certainly isn't easy terrain for off-road cycling or horse riding, so the bridleway designation mystifies me.
Nevertheless, the Doctor's Gate Path does grow more tame as you come nearer to Glossop. In fact, I see the footbridge crossing Shelf Brook as the dividing line between wilder and tamer countryside. There is a path beyond there that takes you higher up the hillside so that muddy brookside hopping can be avoided. With some time to hand, it was around here for another I took another refuelling stop and sampled the peace of my surroundings. It was balm for my torn insides so I relished the moments that I had.
From then on, the walking was easier and the path turned into a track around Mossy Lea Farm and I started to encounter folk out for a quick late evening stroll before the light finally died. My guess is that they were sticking to the good track and were far from intent on seeking adventure. A minuscule slice of that had come my way, though it was the quieter moments that I really relished when my spirit needed them. That excuses for other walks appeared in the form of that intended route along the western edge of Kinder Scout or a possible paved path that leads by Whitethorn Clough that could become a more direct route option for hiking to Glossop from Kinder Scout. It was if some things from a previous life remained for what felt like a very new one.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 58 to Buxton and bus service 61 from there to Hayfield. From Glossop, I went home by train with a change in Manchester Piccadilly.
A weekend around Edinburgh
14th January 2014 
The past weekend got spent around Edinburgh, and spots from my time at university there got frequented. On Saturday, my perambulations were blessed by blue skies and sunshine as I strolled around the city's Old Town and New Town areas when on my way to Holyrood Park. There might have been cross-country running going on there, but it was easy to leave that after me to spontaneously head south to Duddingston and Craigmillar Castle. For all the lack of planning, neither of these disappointed me, though it was late in the day when I made a photo of the classic western profile of Craigmillar Castle.
That there remain so many sights around Edinburgh that I left unexplored while I lived there sometimes makes me wonder what I was doing while I lived there. There was more than four years, so that should have meant that not very much was left unencountered. However, it only was after I moved to England to start a career that I got to savour the likes of the Pentland Hills, the Water of Leith, Dean Village, Leith's Waterfront and Cramond. Was it a certain lack of curiosity that limited my horizons back then?
A developing interest in computers and the time that took certainly has been one thing that I blame, as well as the need to find my own way through life. On Sunday, I found another culprit under skies that remained largely cloudy: Edinburgh's world-famous city centre. Even in Princes Street Gardens, it was possible to allow a slip into reverie and recollection without very much in the way of disturbance. The same could be said of a stroll around Grassmarket and Dean Village as it could for dawdling in the West End branch of Waterstones surveying books in the Scottish Interest section or sampling a coffee and a croissant with copies of a few books with me.
Another suspect might have been my travelling around by bicycle. Just walking means that there is no need to find a parking place for one or get stopped from leaving it in a location such as the front of the Balmoral Hotel, as happened once. It was the lessened practicality of a bike for exploring hill country that caused me to turn to walking in the first place. When I went further afield to see other parts of Scotland, the bike had to stay at home, so walking more than did and there was a certain lack of planning to these ventures. It was as if they were learning ventures and that I need a few visits before I get to make the most of anywhere.
Now that walking retains its appeal for me, books like Kellan MacInnes' Caleb's List and Rab Anderson's guide to the Pentland Hills, published by Mica, hopefully will see some use in the future. Not only do I hope that they will bring back to Scotland again, but I am left thinking about returning to Edinburgh more often too. Even in January, it retains its allure and is without the crowds that frequent it during the summer, too. Sunday stayed bright and offered more than could be expected from the forecast. If cloud had broken in the right part of the sky for long enough, it would have felt even more special: a day of superb weather when the forecast didn't predict one.
Returning to Kellan MacInnes' Caleb's List, there was but one occasion when the Scottish hill country got visited during 2013. With all else that happened, it was more than could be expected and allowed a period of calm in a period of ferment. That was a visit to Glen Coe and Loch Shiel, but there are opportunities around Stirling and Peebles too. As odd as it may sound, a sort of hill wandering trip could feature Edinburgh too. Between the Southern Highlands, the Ochil Hills and the Pentland Hills, there should be enough excuses for short getaways.
Before I leave this piece, there are more reasons why some parts of Edinburgh needed me to leave to see them. On initial appearances, it is tempting to blame getting too comfortable in one's neighbourhood and home. Having open spaces such as Bruntsfield Links and the Meadows nearby, it can feel that there is no need to go further afield whenever the sun appears. Then, there are films and shows to be seen along with museums and other attractions to visit. Edinburgh's festivals have been the cause of my seeing the Tattoo on a weekday night and a Bertolt Brecht satire (Mr. Puntilla and his Man Matti) in the Traverse Theatre, so it is easy to see how a city can distract anyone. It can be said that there is much to see and much for which to return. Maybe that can keep me coming back again and again.
