Category: Cheshire
Beginning a tenth year
5th May 2015 It was after the Mayday bank holiday weekend in 2006 that this blog began and, though the actual tenth anniversary is around twelve months away, a lot has happened in those nine years. These have included life changes too, with a change of job (and employer) nearly five years ago subsequently being eclipsed by the loss of my mother over two years ago and my father's taking leave of this world earlier in the year. Life can feel like a roller coaster ride at times.
2013 became all about dealing with the rawness of not having my mother around any more and my father's no longer being there has left me feeling a bit lost when it comes to my ongoing relationship with the country of my birth and upbringing, Ireland. This is something that happens to many people to set down roots away from their homeland, though my father's affairs need management for a while yet, and I still have family on the other side of the Irish Sea.
What perhaps feels a bit stranger is how little an effect this has had on circumstances in the country that I call home. For one thing, where I live most of the time has become more important, and it may look to my work colleagues that little has changed, but the need to find my feet again in a changed life continues. Events like the ones that I have encountered make you think about where you are going in life and there may be a need for a work sabbatical yet if an annual leave allowance is not enough for putting my father's affairs in order.
After my father's funeral, my mind filled with dreams of exploring the likes of the Faroe Islands, Iceland, the Alps or the Pyrenees, but they have been tamed for a while. The initial feeling of release has been tempered by things needing doing in Ireland and having to rest after two years of keeping an eye on a bereaved parent in a nursing home became more of a priority; it is remarkable how something like that can take so much out of you.
Having not had any sort of longer break since January, I was gagging for the Easter weekend because I really needed a bit of "me" time. That the weather came good around was a bonus, though it did little to rouse me to travel away from home. Macclesfield has plenty of local walking opportunities anyway, so I was left short of those. Holy Saturday saw me walk to the recycling centre with electronic equipment for disposal, and I made a longer walk of it by taking in Danes Moss Nature Reserve and a section of the Macclesfield Canal. Easter Sunday allowed a visit to Tegg's Nose Country Park, while Easter Monday saw me walking from Walker Barn to Forest Chapel before I continued to the top of Shutlingsloe. A spot of stravaiging then followed before I settled into returning home via Langley. Tuesday of Easter was another day off from work for me, so I headed to Tatton Park for the afternoon. To complete the set, another trot along the Saddle of Kerridge would be in order, and that has yet to happen this year.
The end of April saw me cross over to Ireland for a spot of sorting, so it was the Mayday bank holiday weekend that was left to allow for further recuperation. Unlike the Easter weekend, this has not been as much of a walking one. The weather has been mixed, and I have been distracted by home computing matters. Aside from putting a computer to rights, I also got to set up a website dedicated to my late father's history writings. He set to trying to use a PC for the first time in his eighties and wanted me to teach him one Christmas after such a busy working year, that it was a break away from such things that I really needed. Disharmony sadly was the result and my mother was left wishing that no one had put the computing idea into his head, especially when his ability to learn was not what it once was, and he was never that technically minded anyway. As it happened, it was my mother who operated video (and DVD) players in their house.
An interest in history is something that I share with my father, so I am happy to put his essays online, albeit with a good amount of editing to prepare them for a wider audience. The whole archive is not online yet, and I am treating it like any website that I have: adding a little over time and tweaking things as I go along. That is how I have done this one and is how I plan to keep things.
Belatedly, I finished off the trip reports for all my walking outings in 2013, so those for 2014 are next on my to-do list. This year has yet to see me embarking on similar escapades, but I am thinking of having a longer summer holiday this year, so that may help. Between this and that, 2009 was the last summer escape that was not an elongated weekend, such as what happened in 2013 and again in 2014. There was a week off in 2011, but I stayed at home then because I more needed the rest before starting out with a new client at work. If 2015 allowed an opportunity like my exploring the Western Isles in 2008, who knows how much writing could appear on here after something like that.
Spaisteoireacht and stravaiging
12th March 2015 While playing with the Google Translate menu that I recently added to the navigation bar of this website, I discovered that words like explorations, jottings and wanderings are not always translated into other languages. One of these occasions was with the Irish language (the term "Irish Gaelic" is not one that I abide) that I learned during my schooling in Ireland. However, I also rediscovered a word that sounds wonderful to me: spaisteoireacht (try pronouncing it as spash-tore-ukt, speeding that up after practising it a few times). An entry in the online dictionary from Foras na Gaeilge translates the word as walking, strolling, sauntering or promenading. To my mind, that makes it sound like the Scottish word stravaiging, albeit without any insinuation of aimlessness about the business.
Unlike much of last year, much of my walking this year has fallen with the confines of spaisteoireacht rather than anything more strenuous. It also has remained largely local too. For instance, my return from Ireland after my father's funeral was disrupted by snow and I took the opportunity to get out for a walk around by Prestbury with a lot of melt water around in the places. That was enough to overwhelmed my "knocking around" pair of Regatta boots and drench my feet though the whiteness was a delight to the spirit. A pair of Wellington boots has been acquired from Go Outdoors since then in preparedness for a return of any such conditions later in the year or beyond that again. Later that weekend, I paid Lyme Park an afternoon visit and the white covering still was very much in evidence everywhere I looked or trod and the photos show what I mean.
Several trips to Buxton came to pass too and the first of these had me crossing the hills from Macclesfield on one of the few buses that travelled that way on the day. There was plenty of snow up there so that may explain why my bus for the return journey was conspicuous by its absence. A train journey was in order since the temperature very was dropping at that stage. More recently, I repeated the journey with buses carrying me both ways, though the outbound one broke down and had to stop at the Cat and Fiddle Inn and await a replacement. The beeping noise being made as the ailing bus limped the final part of the way to the inn certainly had me thinking that it would not been a bad afternoon to be disrupted up there with unexpected sunshine lighting all the surrounded us. Others may have pondered the prospect of patronising the pub but it was photos that I was after. When I finally got to Buxton, I made for Grinlow Tower and without ignoring the delights of the Pavilion Gardens. It was blustery up high and the gusts that came made photography a shaky business so I could have done with a tripod. Even so, pleasing images were made and I came away happy.
There was a trip to Edinburgh too and that had me revisiting old haunts from my university days up there. Places like Blackford Hill, Morningside, Bruntsfield, the Meadows and the city centre, along with Dean Village, Stockbridge, the Botanic Gardens and Inverleith Park gave shape to what essentially was a stravaig. The sky was blue, and the sun was out too so it was a glorious day for some strolling and there is more exploring to be done around Blackford Hill and another trip along the Water of Leith towards the Edinburgh would not go amiss either.
My mind has been travelling overseas too but I am reminded that I should be making time for some hill country wandering too. The closest that I have got is what I have mentioned above and there was following a stretch of the Macclesfield Canal too. Ideas have not been collated but catching up on trip reports from the past year of too may sort that.
Released?
9th February 2015 As anyone with elderly parents should know, life can be a roller coaster ride when their health declines. It certainly has felt that way over the last few years for my family and me. However, escaping out into the countryside has helped in its own way when dealing with life's rougher moments. Getting through December 2012 certainly called for those head clearing escapes, be they into Tatton Park near Knutsford in Cheshire or along Irish country lanes. Both of my parents were frail then, with my mother having been shaken up by a hospital visit and my father's strength in free fall since the summer. By Christmas, he really needed to be in a nursing home but mentioning the subject only resulted in angry exchanges. It took a brush with death due to a kidney infection for the matter to be forced and the issue to get resolved as it needed to be. He still was not intent on staying where he had to be, and it was a nice place too, so no one could relax and a walk along the Macclesfield Canal between Congleton and Macclesfield as well as a shorter stroll around Buxton were well needed.
What really changed everything was my mother's passing away not so long before what would have been her eighty-first birthday and the loss was a raw one that not only resulted in next to daily evening walks by the River Bollin but also had me venturing further afield is search of a spot of solace. April 2013 saw me make two trips to Derbyshire; the area was to see me more than any other in that year. The of those April visits had me encountering banks of snow left over from a late winter as I hiked from Hayfield to Glossop, rounding Kinder Scout from below as I did so. The weather was much milder later in the month when I embarked on a circular yomp from Bakewell that took in both Ashford-in-the-Water and Monsal Dale. These were followed in June by a walk from Bamford to Edale that took in the southern edge of the Kinder Scout plateau and a walk from Monyash to Bakewell via Lathkill Dale. That last big walk of the year had me passing swollen rivers too; it had been a month of heavy rain and much flooding. A July escape to Fort William that took in Glen Coe and Glenfinnan could not have been more different with its sweltering temperatures and dry sunny weather. There also were sunlit walks from the Cat and Fiddle Inn back to my home that took in Shining Tor and Lamaload Reservoir. The first of these took me onto Rainow and Bollington, while I passed close to Shutlingsloe on the second.
The combination of the scare that began 2013 and the loss of our mother meant that I tended to be more precious about my father; I suspect that my brother probably felt the same. The sense that pervaded most of 2013 was that we could lose him sooner rather than later. It sounds churlish to say it now, but I started to wonder in the light of my father living longer than we might have expected if it was not before time to abandon any putting of my life on hold that there might have been. That does not imply that there was any sense of abandonment because, if anything, my visits to Ireland became more frequent. For much of 2014, I crossed the Irish Sea on a monthly basis.
In between those, though, I began to get out and about again; last summer saw me make three visits to the Lake District. The first was to Buttermere when I crossed the top of Haystacks, while the second facilitated a walk from Patterdale to Grasmere that went over the top of St. Sunday Crag and the last revisited Orrest Head and Loughrigg Fell. January and November saw me spend time around Llantysilio Mountain near Llangollen. Of these, the first trip enjoyed bright sunshine all day and the weather disintegrating to spells of rain while I was up high during the second. That makes an excuse for another return sometime, though I did get more than a little compensation from spending some time by the Mawddach estuary near Barmouth the next day. There were more Welsh visits though: a summer solstice one that visited Ysgyryd Fawr and Sugar Loaf near Abergavenny and a September retracing of steps between Rhossili and Port-Eynon in glorious weather. Yorkshire too saw a visit before the Tour de France did: that took in Pateley Bridge and Brimham Rocks in Nidderdale on a largely grey day. Northumberland was paid a visit during October, with the delights of the coastline around Bamburgh being sampled on a day that felt more like it belonged to summer. Local trots around Macclesfield were not neglected either; Alderley Edge and Hare Hill got two visits. A pesky Jack Russell terrier took a set on my left leg the first time around so a hospital visit was advised and no such intrusion was experienced the second time around, though I could have done with more sun.
There was more to my normalisation; a bike trainer was put to good use to see if my fitness could be bettered. The second half of 2014 also had my father see a good run of health that lasted until last month. Though there was a smaller scare in February 2014, things steadied after that. Still, he was growing weaker as I found during last Christmas and I returned to Britain before New Year sensing that we might be on the cusp of a big change of some sort. In fact, I also wondered to myself how he would fare if he caught an infection. That question was about to get an answer only weeks later. A heavy chest infection was to confine him to bed after a traumatic experience when the nursing home thought him strong enough to sit up in a chair for a while. With that in mind, I made what, I thought, was a flying weekend visit in case there were to any further developments. Much of Saturday was spent with him; my brother came later than I did. When we left, he was comfortable enough for us to think that a peaceful night was in store. When that changed after midnight, we dashed to the home. By the time that we got there, he had breathed his last only moments before. While some would find that heartbreaking, the final peace is what I recall. That his suffering had ended was more important than we might have felt.
A word said during one of the many conversations we had with others over the ensuing days remains with me: release. My brother and I felt it while nearby neighbours were stunned by our father's departure; they surely felt it more than we did; some were crying on the phone to us. There may be another factor: we both had our homes and our lives, while they see breakage in a continuity that they held dear. Also, the period with our father allowed us to come to terms with where things were going and have a partial glimpse of where things would go after he went. Of course, there are ups and downs as well as twists and turns of which we know nothing yet. The turbulence within me after my mother's passing has not come after my father's and there are times when I wonder why, though that is not to see that there was no weeping or no jabs of the heartstrings. Maybe it's that sense of release again.
Though there are matters that need attending yet, my mind also is starting to explore possibilities too. Visits to Ireland are sure to continue, albeit not at the same frequency and certainly not with the same purposes as before, though you hardly can abandon your relatives or former neighbours. There may be opportunities to visit places in Connemara, Mayo, Donegal or Wicklow that I have yet to see. That would be continuing something that they did after their own parents were deceased, when there were many trips to Kerry and West Cork. Some of those gave me the love of hill country scenery that has taken me around so much of Britain and the Isle of Man. Over the past weekend, I was strolling around old haunts in Edinburgh like Blackford Hill, Bruntsfield Links and The Meadows before crossing over to newer haunts like Dean Village and Edinburgh's Botanic Gardens. Except for the occasional incursion of rogue clouds, there was enough sun shining on me throughout to inspire ruminations on the possibility of spending a week in the city sometime. Even in a place like Edinburgh, there was much opportunity to wander down memory lane (I graduated from one of the city's universities) and have time and space to yourself if you needed it. Nearer destinations will remain attractive in a new life situation.
Speaking of memories, there is one that returns to my mind when I mention Edinburgh, since I gained a research degree in a science subject while there. My parents were hoping that I would find a job in Ireland afterwards, only for the world of science to be an international one, especially if you fancy a career in academic research. Some of my contemporaries gained post-doctoral jobs in the U.S. and that option did appeal to me not a little. The phrase "seeing the world" came to my notice and sharing it while on a trip back to Ireland must have tugged rather too strongly on parental heartstrings, for I was asked to leave such designs until after they were gone. Now that youthful naivety has been displaced by realism, I now am amazed at the sorts of thoughts that went through my mind back then, especially when after experiencing more of the delights of Britain and Ireland.
Even so, that is not to imply that I am not tempted by foreign destinations. Since the likes of the mountains of Canada or New Zealand or the American Rockies may be a step too far, other spots in Europe have a certain allure. For instance, business trips to Sweden appear to have cultivated a soft spot for Scandinavian destinations such as Norway, Sweden, Denmark or Iceland. There are areas of hilly and mountainous country in three of those. Any juxtaposition of mountain and coast is a stunning combination, too, as many photos of Norwegian fjords will evince. That brings its own reminder of the Faroe Islands; their compactness could help any explorations. Going there would build on a 2008 escapade that to Scotland's Western Isles and the islands of Orkney and Shetland have not missed my attention either. To return to the continental European theme, though, you cannot overlook the Alps or the Pyrenees, either. Yet, even they are but some of the mountainous regions on the continent that get mentioned in walking magazines from time to time.
None of this means that responsibilities are about to be overlooked. Sometimes, it does feel that you can make new obstacles for yourself, too. The ones that appear of their own accord are enough for anyone; life after my parents will bring its ups and downs soon enough. In between, pondering those other destinations may bring its own comfort, while realising that short visits only uncover so much. After all, I lived in Edinburgh for over four years and still have parts of it to see anew, along with those nooks and crannies that I continue to revisit. As ever, only time will reveal what comes to pass and what adventures may be had yet.
News of Walking World Ireland
10th November 2014 Everyone can have a hiatus and there has been a long one on here for entries like this one. In my case, it is not as if I have been away from hillwalking. As it happens, I have had more trouble motivating myself to write stuff on here than getting out among hills and there is a growing list of Trip Reports to Come too. What has happened is that procrastination has got in the way of my getting those additional outings shared and it gets worse as the list grows longer. In addition, an old bike of mine has found its way onto rollers in an effort to increase fitness and reduce flab. The former has been a success so far and the latter needs more in the way of effort so the bike trainer will not be left to gather dust like another road bike that I acquired in April but that was taken out on a short cycle between Macclesfield and Buxton yesterday.
The inspiration for this post though is an email that I unexpectedly received from the publisher and editor of a walking magazine that I thought was defunct: Walking World Ireland. My impressions led me to join Mountaineering Ireland to received its journal, Irish Mountain Log, as a substitute. However plans are afoot to get Walking World Ireland back on newsagent shelves again, albeit under a new guise of Mountain World Ireland. Here is the text of that email:
An apology and announcement to readers of Walking World Ireland
From November 28th:
Walking World Ireland will become Mountain World Ireland
As a subscriber to Walking World Ireland, you'll have noticed that the magazine has not been published for almost a year now - since the 2014 Annual.
As editor and publisher I want to apologise sincerely for this. We value every reader very highly, and it was only after a prolonged period of business difficulties that the decision to suspend publication was made. Since that moment it has been my clear hope and intention to return WWI to the shelves as soon as possible.
The reason I'm contacting you today is to let you know that the magazine is indeed making a comeback. I'm delighted to be able to say that, and I hope it will also come as good news to you.
From next month, Walking World Ireland will resume publication as Mountain World Ireland. It's a small change, reflecting a slight but exciting change in emphasis - largely the result of the countless conversations I've had with readers over recent months.
Mountain World Ireland will remain at its core a hillwalking magazine, celebrating, as ever, the beauty of Ireland's mountain landscapes and the pleasures and challenges they offer. But more, it will celebrate the wider world of mountain sports - the people and activities that inspire us as lovers of high places.
I hope and trust that this rebirth will meet with your approval, and will continue to inform, entertain and inspire you as WWI did. I want to thank all of you for the patience you have shown, and for the many, many expressions of support we have received from readers and subscribers. I hope to hear from you again with any comments you may have on our future direction. Anything, in fact, that you have to say.
Finally, I want to assure all of you with unfulfilled subscriptions that we will honour all our outstanding commitments, and if you're unsure where your subscription stands, do contact me at [email protected] or on +353 (0)86 805 4590.
Sincerely
Conor O’Hagan
Editor
Copyright © 2014 Mountain World Ireland, All rights reserved.
You are receiving this email because you have previously subscribed to Walking World Ireland
Our mailing address is:
Mountain World Ireland
10 Kickham Road
Kilmainham
Dublin,
Ireland
Some of the sentiments sound familiar so I will wait and see what becomes of these plans. An improving economic situation may help the new venture so I wish it well while intending to savour what is on offer. If anything, the WWI offer had gone a little repetitive so a refresh was needed anyway and a break often can make for a good reboot as has been seen with many a movie franchise. My Irish travel horizons may have been narrowed by life events over there in recent years but there may be a chance to do some explorations of my own yet.
As for the future of this outpost, I hope to get more trip reports shared and the summers of 2013 and 2014 came good enough to lure me out and about on welcome and much needed escapades. Usual haunts like the Scottish Highlands, the Lake District and the Peak District saw incursions along the Gower, Monmouthshire, Yorkshire and Northumberland. The perceived need for better photos drove quite a lot of these and the Lake District photo album is being rebuilt at the moment too. Also, there may have been visits to other places too and there are musings that I wish to mull over on here too once procrastination has been banished.
An eighth birthday
5th May 2014 This bank holiday weekend is being a quiet affair for me. With a cold to weather, it certainly has not been one for grand designs and the weather has not been sunny all the while either. Saturday was sunny around Macclesfield though and I got out for a local evening walk around by Prestbury. This time of year has much to offer, even to those not going at full power,
Yesterday saw me head to Alderley Edge for a walk around by Hare Hill. I may have followed the route in an anticlockwise direction instead of the intended clockwise one, but I was not along in doing so, and I left the best for the return section from Hare Hill. It really is very pleasant with a multitude of bluebells putting on a pretty display. A cantankerous Jack Russell terrier slightly spoilt things by giving me a nip around my left ankle, but that will fade in the fullness of time. A stop at the Wizard Tearooms for a bacon barm and a pot of tea made amends, and I chose a more off-road course back to the village to catch my bus home.
This blog is entering its ninth year and things have changed over the years. When I started it, hill wandering was something for which I had more time than I do today. Nevertheless, I still enjoy getting out and about, and there are trip reports to file. My last hill outing was near Llangollen in January, so it's well after time for another. If only life events offered a clearance, who knows where my mind may roam.
Currently, I am catching up with unread issues of The Great Outdoors and Outdoor Photography, so the shelf of ideas could get to see more on there. There are places like the Yorkshire Dales where I have not been for a while, and Cumbria's Lake District calls too. Summoning the energy to devise a scheme or more ahead of some alluring weather could produce results, so there are rewards for any display of courage regarding an immediate future. Life is for living, after all.
