Category: Europe
Glorious fresh green growth
20th April 2011 After a little break, I am back cycling to and from work again. In the mornings, it is possible to revel in the way that everything has come to life over the last few weeks. That we have what feels like summer weather only can have helped. This year, it seems that the display of cherry tree blossom is better than ever. Whether this is because I wasn't looking in previous years or this is a bumper year is hard for me to say. Regardless of that little triviality, there certainly are plenty of trees in bloom for many of us to enjoy. Regardless of whether flowering trees are putting their display for a while, it is the freshness of the green foliage at this time of year that always delights me, especially in golden morning light.
These are sights that soothe the soul and induce a certain reverie. They also draw thoughts of walking and cycling trips into the mind and the fact that there are a series of long weekends coming our way offers opportunities for doing just that. So far, no firm decisions have been made though Cowal and the Isle of Man have come to mind when I left my mind wander earlier today. Not being a royal watcher of any sort of fervency should help me to get away when many eyes are focussed on televisions. Trains and buses may even be quieter away from London but the day itself will tell its own story.
While it sounds simple to say that it's just a matter of making plans and then making them happen, it's been something of a weakness for me in recent months due to one very big distraction in my life. For instance, I had designs on heading to Caernarfon and Beaumaris in Wales last weekend but it never came to pass. In the event, I contented myself with an hour or two on my bike wandering around Sutton and Langley. Sights of surrounding hills were taken in and the low level of Bottoms Reservoir noted, a consequence of a largely dry March and April this year. With good things on your local patch, it's easy to feel consoled.
Saying that, going away somewhere is good too. Last year's Easter Sunday walk from Baslow to Bamford had me wishing that I'd booked somewhere to stay so I didn't need to leave for home that evening. With the prospect of savouring the countryside between Buxton and Ashbourne that is something that applies to such a venture too. While on the subject of past Easter escapes, there was a stay in Leeds that allowed me to fan out into the Yorkshire Dales. While I am sure that you wouldn't have chosen that base for those purposes, it did what I asked of it. Both of these trains of thought are revealing possibilities for getaways that aren't so far away from home and they have their place too. Then, there still is that aborted trip to Caernarfon and Beaumaris too. Ideas are queueing up for anything, not a bad state of affairs at all. Time needs to made for planning so that something can happen.
A little tinkering and a little toddling
10th April 2011 If you have been here at this part of cyberspace before, you may have noticed a navigation bar at the top with an indication of where you are on the website. In spite of the glorious weather that has been with us over the last few days, I didn't have the opportunity of celebrating its arrival with a trip away somewhere. In fact, I more needed a rest at home after the hectic demands of work over the last few weeks. It was during my little recuperation that I made the little modification that now appears at the top of every page on the website. Hopefully, it will help to make getting around here that little bit easier.
That isn't to say that I never got out at all. As it happened, I stole out of the house for a few hours to stroll from Bollington back to my abode again. What that granted me was the chance to look over familiar hills whose sight I haven't been able to enjoy for longer than really should be the case. My course took me from the top of Bollington into Ingersley Vale and from there to the White Nancy by way of the Gritstone Trail. Surprisingly perhaps for terrain that I have trodden a good few times already, the route had plenty of new twists and turns for me to explore. Given the vantage point that it is and the glory of today, it came as no shock to me to find folk lounging around the White Nancy, but that is never to say that the place was overrun. As it turned out, there was plenty of time for undisturbed stopping and staring.
That sense of space for relaxation was very much a feature of the afternoon escape. It meant that details such as my camera batteries running out of charge before they should have done or there being quarries to my right on Kerridge Hill made no inroads into my sense of enjoyment. Again, neither the haze over the Cheshire plain nor the drifting sound of a horse show PA system from below me had no impact on how I felt either. The familiar hills to my left were what was holding my attention as I wandered along the Saddle of Kerridge. The sights may have been seen before they also were a little different in the glorious sunshine and with fresh green foliage in the process of emerging.
Being drawn along the ridge of Kerridge Hill was the cause of changing my intended route. By now, my camera batteries had completely run out of power but I stuck to recharging my own internal batteries instead of getting grumpy. It seems that having to commit scenes to the photographic plates of the mind was a help too. Any sights of freshly emerged greenery or cherry blossom against a bright blue sky were treated much in the same way as scenes savoured of a glorious late July evening on my first trip to Skye. One upshot of that was that an evening cycle from Dunvegan to Portree from quite a few years ago still remains in my memory now.
It didn't take long for me to be dropped on the side of the B5470 Macclesfield-Whaley Bridge road at a saddle between Rainow and Higher Hurdsfield. From there, I followed that road down into Macclesfield with a deviation onto the Middlewood Way and a short section of public footpath on the way home. This had been a walk that never was far from civilisation, but there was plenty of time and space during which to relax too. The peacefulness of the evening must have had something to do with it and has put me thinking that I need to get back to sampling experiences like this again. It's just no good feeling as if you are being kept away from enticing areas of hill country while watching BBC programmes on the iPlayer like Country Tracks (the recent one on south Cumbria, for instance) so a spot of re-balancing looks to be well needed.
Travel arrangements:
Bus service 10A from Macclesfield to Bollington.
More pondering than wandering
29th March 2011 The last few months have been hectic at work and that has impeded any incursions into the outdoors during what has been a lengthy spell of settled weather. That isn't to say that I haven't been out at all. After all, I got away to Ireland over the weekend. In a change for me, I swapped my usual air destination of Dublin for the quieter one at Shannon near Limerick.
That was the cause of allowing me to revisit the city of Limerick after having not been there for quite a few years. It has its landmarks of medieval antiquity too with thoughts of seeing King John's Castle on the banks of the Shannon in good if hazy sunshine being the cause of drawing me out on a trot between connecting bus services. For a place that was my county town for much of my life, it could come as a surprise to you that I had never gone and explored the walkways and parks that Limerick City Council has set in place along the banks of what is Ireland's longest river before. Last weekend saw that set to rights but seeing the likes of Bunratty Castle and the village of Adare were reminders not of the unexplored but of places that I wouldn't mind seeing again. The fact that they caught the sun really well as I passed nearly made me want to stop and stay a while but for the need to keep going.
It wasn't all about enjoying delightful sights of man-made constructions because a trip into Limerick's tourist information centre revealed some long-distance walking options too. In there, I spotted a guide to the Lough Derg Way along with those for the Mid-Clare Way and the East Clare Way. While I was in the heart of a city, these discoveries were reminders that wanderings in greener surroundings weren't all that far away. It's all very well savouring the more delightful parts of places like Limerick or, as I did at the start of February, Oxford, but losing yourself in empty open countryside, even for a short while, is unbeatable.
Turning those thoughts of more natural spaces a little wilder, I also recently happened on a leaflet extolling the virtues of Sleat as a base from which to explore Skye. Though it's seen more of my attention than the hinterland of Limerick city, a few years have passed since I last ventured up there as part of a Hebridean adventure a few years back. With the frenetic pace of my working life nowadays, being able to find in a short amount of time a convenient base from which to fan out to sample more views like those of Skye's Cuillin Hills sounds good to me. While I may have been cycling through the Cheshire countryside to and from work a lot over the last few weeks, it is starting to look as if planning a longer stretch away from the madness of modern life is opportune.
Now, why didn’t I bring my head torch?
21st February 2011 The arctic conditions that came our way before the Christmas were the cause of my having a one-way ferry ticket from Holyhead to Dublin as a backup plan should a closure of Dublin Airport due to snow put paid to my crossing the Irish Sea by air. In the end, I did manage that air journey though I was to spend a frustrating few hours on the tarmac at Shannon before returning to Dublin and coming south again! Once on that side of the Irish Sea, I decided to rearrange my crossing for another time to decide whether to use it or cancel it. It did get used in the end and I ended up paying a visit to Howth and walking right around its peninsula too.
My journey did gain me a stop at Llandudno Junction that allowed me another look at Conwy's castle as well as glimpses around Holyhead's port in the sunshine and nearby Holyhead Mountain (a hill, really, but a lot of this type of naming goes on in Ireland too so I cannot complain). As I was travelling west from home, skies grew ever more hazy until it was a cloudy Dublin that I found myself approaching on the ferry. Though that led me to give up being very hopeful of seeing any part of Ireland blessed by the sun, there was to be an interlude that replaced pessimism with satisfaction.
It was as I was approaching Howth station on a DART train that I was presented with a full-on view of a well pleasingly lit Ireland's Eye that made me get off the train without delay though without knocking anyone over either. The sense that this might have been a fleeting opportunity had me setting off earnestly searching out a suitable vantage point for making something of the photographic opportunity presented to me. In hindsight, lessening the haste might have been better but I got my photos before it was too light. In fact, the lighting was fading as I retraced my steps along one of Howth's harbour walls with a good deal of satisfaction for my pains. Not only had I glimpsed Ireland's Eye but also a partially lit Lambay Island too. All had come good.
If I had missed out, I would have been kicking myself as I rounded the Howth peninsula; the cloud took over to keep the sun prisoner for much of the rest of the day. There were National Loop Walks to explore and I set off to follow one after a fashion. First, it was a matter of following a road by Balscadden Bay towards the Nose of Howth. Beyond a car park, I left the tarmac after me to follow a well-made clifftop path that had its unnerving moments.
If solitude is what you seek, Howth's harbour is not the place to go of a sunny Saturday as many other folk were enjoying their stroll about its walls. The cliff path may have attracted less attention but it wasn't unused either. Still, it was far from being overrun either and trespass grew less regular the further along it, I went. In fact, there was a marked quietening after passing The Summit where there was a car park. The fact that it was getting late in the day probably made people less likely to start a walk too.
Views of the promontory that is the Great Bailey were opening out before with the Bailey Lighthouse issuing its warning to passing ships. Evening Irish Sea ferries going to and from Dublin started to come into sight. It was looking busy with ships operating by DFDS, P&O, Stena and Irish Ferries all passing the way. In the middle of all this, I needed to lose some height to cross over the road leading to the aforementioned lighthouse, a decision whose wisdom I was later to question in fading daylight.
Views across Dublin Bay towards the Dublin and Wicklow mountains were ample too and I could identify a slender break in the cloud that was liberating some weak sunlight a little later. While the sun was finding its way to that slit, I was picking out the distinctive low-sized humps of Great Sugarloaf and Little Sugarloaf. This was a reminder of a trot to the top of the former that I enjoyed a few years back. What drew my attention back to the present was the reddening of the Great Bailey by the last act of the sun on the Howth peninsula for the day. After that, I still could see it being busy showering shafts of light on the less distinct hills on the other side of the bay as I pondered how far I needed to go before I could depend on street lights taking over the duties of the sun.
Dog walkers and photographers seeking the last light of the day remained abroad to be encountered. Isn't it amazing how many folk walk their dogs in the dusk? And it isn't just a British thing either from what I saw across the Irish Sea. With Doldrum Bay and Drumleck Point passed, I was on the lookout for a Martello tower, one of several that are to be found around Dublin. They were constructed near the close of the eighteenth century to provide a means of defence against the French. Before I was to reach that now privately owned restored building, there were muddy sections of path to cross and I even dropped onto a beach at one point before shadowing a stone wall for the final approach to the tower.
Because of rapidly failing daylight that had me asking why I had no head torch and unwelcoming signs, I didn't dawdle near the tower but made my way to tarmac again. The way to Sutton train station was lit as I gazed across the bay towards the lights of Dublin city and its surroundings. Even without constant sunshine, the appeal of Howth's cliff cannot be overstated. There's a longer National Loop walk that would have got me back to Howth but, even with my own torch, I wouldn't have wanted to blunder around the Ben of Howth anyway. Some things are best left for another time since it's best to leave anywhere with a reason for a return, not that Howth mistreated me at all, of course.
Travel Arrangements:
Train from Macclesfield to Holyhead with changes at Manchester and Llandudno Junction; then Irish Ferries sailing to Dublin, bus into city centre and train to Howth. Returned by train from Sutton to Dublin city centre. DFDS overnight ferry crossing to Birkenhead (sadly now no longer a travel option), National Express from Birkenhead to Manchester with a change in Liverpool and train back to Macclesfield again.
Restoring Reasons for Visiting
20th February 2011 A few weekends ago, Scotland drew me north for a weekend around Fort William. As it happened, the overnight journey had me leaving a very foggy Crewe to go to an equally foggy Fort William. Though I am well aware of temperature and cloud inversions, the lack of visibility was sufficient to get me questioning my plan to go to Glenfinnan for another look around its surroundings. After all, a previous visit to Morar showed me how fog can linger in glens around there.
Adding to the confusion was what I saw out the train window on the way to Fort William. On arising north of Bridge of Orchy, I lifted the blind to be greeted by a stirring view over Loch Tulla towards the Black Mount. Last time I travelled on the Caledonian Sleeper, I was looking the other way, but this was what was on offer on my first-ever Sleeper journey more than five years ago. This time, the loch was still and the white-capped hills utterly majestic. If I had thought of cranking up the ISO rating on my Pentax DSLR, I might have tried to record what lay before me like I did with Loch Treig later on as you can see above. It was this clarity of air that caused my quandary in Fort William on my arrival there.
In the event, all that was needed was patience because the fog eventually cleared as the time came for me to head to Glenfinnan. The reward for my perseverance came in the form of a sunny start to my second ever visit to the place. Unfortunately, I was to find that cloud cover was to snuff out those rays of sun all too soon. Nevertheless, I was decided on enjoying my wandering regardless of that development.
The sun stayed long enough for me to get from Glenfinnan's train station to Loch Shiel. My first visit to these parts came on a cloudy day in August 2001, in times preceding any vestige of hill walking in my outings, and it brought home to me the distance between the train station and the loch. While I was more laden back then, I still didn't hurry along the roadside footway on this year's trip either. A few walkers passed me in the opposite direction, but that was the limit of human incursion into my reverie until I got beyond the Jacobite memorial.
It was as I neared that monument that I got my only rain of the day, and it was far from being a deluge. There was a final decision to be made at this point in the day: either exploring the glens to the north or going along the track along Loch Shiel. An unexpected discovery that steered me towards the latter was a walk through woodlands over duckboards that included a bridge crossing over the Callop River. The well-kept state of the path had me asking if anyone else had found this, but two developments changed my mind. First, there was a child's red glove dropped on the ground and there was a group of relaxed cyclists coming after me while out on a loch-side bimble. The fact that I was saved a round trip involving road walking was very welcome.
Those cyclists were to go ahead in front of me, and I took the chance to hop up on a hump in the name of adding to my views of what surrounded me. Tree cover meant that what lay across the A830 from me was easier to see than any sights down along Loch Shiel. On retracing my steps to rejoin the vehicle track, I inspected the signpost that had been erected. Callop was one option, and I would have passed by there if that welcome path hadn't been put in place. Polloch was the other, and I was to set in that direction, though time meant that I never was to cover all the distance to that place. Looking at a map while setting down these words, I spotted a hilly single track road leading from Polloch to Strontian and has caused my mind to ponder cycle touring around Ardgour, a prospect that excites me a little so long as I could get a bike around there. Could I hire out a bicycle for a few days rather than having to take my own that far north? It certainly would be handy if I could, but some investigation is in order beforehand.
That pondering is for the future and never came to mind at the time, though I could have wondered where those cyclists were going. My being intent on savouring my surroundings to a stop to that. The sun may have been staunched by the clouds, but I have out among Scotland's hills often enough to see the possibilities. They almost demand a return on longer days, with even the ca. 19:00 train back to Fort William having its place in my deliberations. Now that I think of it, later departures to Mallaig are beginning to feature in my thinking. There was nothing wrong with the brown hillsides that surrounded me, and magic came in the form of wisps of low cloud that appeared for all the world to be affixed to those too. As if that were insufficient, I also came across a deer eating silage from a creep feeder. There was no move in this antlered beast as I stopped to gaze on a normally elusive creature at relatively close quarters. Maybe hunger during a lean winter dispelled any fear momentarily.
While the weather constrained any photographic opportunities, I still sensed that this was a special part of the world. Well, the lack of a breeze brought a stillness that soothed the spirit. As with all out and back loch-side walks, the tricky part was deciding when to turn back. Similar trots beside Loch Eilde Mor near Kinlochleven come to mind here. The first one saw me needing to await a later bus to Fort William on a murky midge-infested August evening after missing an earlier departure. In contrast, my second trip there saw me leave too early and left some spare time in Kinlochleven. In the event, I got it about right with Loch Shiel. As it happened, the cycling party themselves had turned earlier and were coming back against me before I reached my pre-appointed turning point. Even so, my return was relaxed and steady rather than frantic and rushed, though light was starting to fade on me.
Knowing exactly you are going stops any panic if you find the end of a day approaching, and so it was with me beside Loch Shiel. So relaxed was I that I popped up onto another elevated vantage point for one last peek around me rather than rushing ahead. What was to be spotted was a streak of light in the sky, with spouts of sunlight lighting part of the loch as the sun dropped towards the horizon. While light really was failing on my reaching the A830 again, I shared a few words with a fellow Irishman going to see a monument that drew his curiosity. By this point in the day, it had been lit up, though it was difficult to make such lighting apparent in any photos. Even with an eye on the time to catch a train back again to Fort William, there was no way that I would not pass a polite Asian asking me of the whereabouts of the "Harry Potter bridge" (the Glenfinnan viaduct, of course). Suitably directed, he turned his car to get a glimpse of the movie icon. Glenfinnan's train station had more human activity than I had met during my whole walk, with some folk awaiting trains to Mallaig and to Glasgow. The words "Haste Ye Back" seem to sum up my afternoon around Glenfinnan and I hope that they ring true.
That Scottish saying was to crop up again in spirit if not in mind before I left Fort William to return home. There was a brainwave regarding a circuit around by Cow Hill that would have taken me into Glen Nevis before reaching the bus stances where my southbound journey was to begin in earnest. My reason saw to it that I wasn't to try rushing about before leaving Lochaber. What I did was to gain height by going up Lundavra Road and looking out over Loch Linnhe and towards Ben Nevis and Meall an t-Suidhe too. A reprise of the circuit was left for another time, and the weekend reminded me that there are plenty of reasons to return to these parts. Even retracing old steps has its appeal, and memories of old escapades are flooding into my head now. Who knows what could come from them?
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 38 from Macclesfield to Crewe, Caledonian Sleeper from Crewe to Fort William. Return train ride from Fort William to Glenfinnan. Scottish Citylink service from Fort William to Glasgow, National Express service 538 from Glasgow to Manchester, train from Manchester to Macclesfield.
