Category: Trip Ideas
Overseas escapades
15th September 2015 After playing with the prospect earlier in the year, I made good some of my designs on overseas explorations. July saw me head to Iceland for a few days. An early morning arrival allowed plenty of time for exploring Reykjavík before a day when I embarked on an excursion that took in Þingvellir National Park, Geysir and the enormous Gullfoss. On my last full day there, I ventured as far as Landmannalaugar for a day walk in its striking hill country. The weather may not have played ball then like it did on other days, but the whole visit was a good introduction to Iceland for a first-time visitor, and there are other possibilities to be undertaken if I get more brave.
Alpine ambitions also were partially sated with an elongated weekend spent in Switzerland. My base was Geneva, and another morning arrival allowed me to stroll about the place to get my bearings. A trip to Bern followed on the only totally dull day of those that I spent in the country. There were day walks in Alpine surroundings too, with one around Zermatt allowing plentiful views of the Matterhorn under blue skies. That was followed by a journey to Grindelwald that allowed a little taste of how Bern appears in sunshine on the way there. From Grindelwald, I trotted up to Kleine Scheidegg with the Eiger steadfastly remaining cloaked in cloud. Others were on show, so I was not at all disappointed. When the altitude surprised me with its effects after walking at similar heights around Zermatt unperturbed, I was happy with slow progress on the final stretch to Kleine Scheidegg's train station. With clouds overhead and a certain chill in the air, I did not dally, either. After gaining around 1,000 metres in height, I was surprised that my legs were more willing than my lungs, so that is a lesson for the future.
Both of these punctuated a year that has been a journey of spirit following the passage of my father from this life in January. The Icelandic escape slipped me out of a rut into which I had fallen and got me away from concerns about political events in Britain. Solace was a distinguishing feature of the Swiss interlude, and it felt great to stick with enjoying delightful sights in place of life's troubles. That sense of peace has returned from time to time since then, though there has been mental turbulence too. Thankfully, the latter appears to be subsiding while life is running its course.
One downside to both excursions is the cost, and I should have got myself a Swiss Travel Pass for rail travel is expensive there. That means that any future ventures beyond British, Irish or Manx shores will have to await 2016, and I am looking at the possibilities for Norway at the moment. In addition to that, there is more of Switzerland to see with Austria, Germany and France all having their portions of the Alps too. Given what I gained from this year's trips, savouring scenery in other parts of the world is something that I fancy continuing.
Another thing that attenuates foreign travel ambitions after the cost of such exploits, or the passing of the summer, is the need to find my feet again when it comes to Ireland. It no longer feels the same with both my parents gone, and it is as if an anchor has disappeared. There no longer is the feeling of attachment that there once was, even though I still have family there and there are things that need doing on a continual basis. The latter offer a chance to find my place there again, and only time will tell as to how things proceed.
Living in the U.K. for as long as I have has compounded the lack of attachment to Ireland, yet it also has not been a year for walking excursions in the country that I now call home. Around April and May, there were quite of few walks around Macclesfield's hills and August saw me reprise a walk between Monyash and Bakewell via Lathkill Dale. Another factor that may have played its part in keeping me from my usual hill country haunts has been my return to cycling local roads now that I have regained my road confidence. Cheshire has featured strongly in the various routes, and there even was an incursion into Staffordshire that took in Leek and Tittesworth Reservoir. Maybe the shortening days will draw me backing to wandering among hills again.
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.
A possible project milestone
18th November 2014 This past summer has been one that has seen me revisit the Lake District after a gap of more than four years. In fact, there was more than one weekend visit too and the first of these could not have enjoyed better weather. The source of my attention was Buttermere, a valley that I have overlooked for far too long since my first visit there over a decade ago. Though I played with the idea of going over Seat, High Crag, High Stile and Red Pike in a single push, I saw sense and stuck with Haystacks instead. The next object of my explorations was Patterdale from where I trotted over St. Sunday Crag and continued to Grasmere via Grisedale Tarn. For at least two weekends on the trot, this part of Cumbria defied predicted weather doom with the second offering up a sultry opening that got me engaging in more rocky fell walking. The last outing was tamer following a delayed departure and took in Orrest Head and Loughrigg Fell before the evening grew greyer and damper.
All of this allowed me to capture a number of photos and that partially was the cause of me getting out and about in the first place with the YHA helping by having spaces in their hostels in the right places at the right times that I could uncover on their website. It was the quest for a better photo of Fleetwith Pike with Buttermere in front of it that drew me there in the first place and there was no disappointment, especially with a late summer evening spent in fading light with the only perturbation of a quiet valley being the tumbling waters of a gill. It was memorable bliss.
My St. Sunday Crag outing granted its share of photographic opportunities too with Ullswater and the fells about Helvellyn attracting my notice. However, my third excursions saw an envisaged photo of Grasmere denied by advancing cloud so that is one that could need repeating, and any excuse will do a hill wanderer when it comes to revisiting a pleasing location.
There are other possibilities, of course, with recent films made by Terry Abraham with Mark Richards and Chris Townsend drawing new things to my notice. An actual ascent of Helvellyn from Wythburn could become a reality yet as could a similar escapade to the top of Great Gable. The latter stunned me when I glimpsed it from Haystacks, and it looks manageable from Seathwaite too. In many ways, I am beginning to wonder if it is that little bit easier to get to the Lakeland fells than it is to their counterparts in north-west Wales. A recent promise of good weather around Anglesey and Snowdonia brought home to me how low my stock of trip ideas for those places is. Replenishment is ongoing.
One thing that might help with that is a perusal of my online Snowdonia photo album because it has been doing the same for its Lakeland counterpart that partly inspired me to return to Cumbria again year. In fact, a good number of photos from the past summer have found their way into the Lake District album during an overhaul that it received. That did take a share of time to do between selecting and processing photos as well as writing some descriptive text to go with them. Not unexpectedly, the time spent doing that took away from writing stuff on here so here is a list of the photos that I now have in this album (entry links to an actual photo too):
Looking towards Langdale Pikes from Orrest Head, Windermere
Red Screes & Wansfell Pike as seen from Orrest Head, Windermere
Caudale Moor & Thornthwaite Crag as seen from Orrest Head, Windermere
Looking towards Helvellyn from Place Fell, Patterdale
Looking towards Blencathra from Place Fell, Patterdale
Ullswater from Thornhow End, Patterdale
Helvellyn & Striding Edge, Glenridding
Dollywaggon Pike & Grisedale Tarn, Grasmere
Looking along Tongue Gill towards Grisedale Hause, Grasmere
High Pike, Low Pike & Red Screes as seen from Loughrigg Fell, Ambleside
Low Pike and High Pike, Ambleside
Great Gable as seen from Haystacks, Buttermere
Looking north from Scarth Gap, Buttermere
Fleetwith Pike & Warnscale, Buttermere
Whiteless Pike & Grasmoor, Buttermere
High Stile & High Crag, Buttermere
High Stile & Red Pike, Buttermere
Scales, Mellbreak & Crummock Water, Buttermere
Clough Head from Jenkin Hill, Keswick
Skiddaw as seen from Little Man, Keswick
Some of the above dates from I used to use film cameras and I fancy bettering the efforts on another visit, but digital photos dominate the album now that I finally caught up with various efforts from as long ago as 2007. Then, film photography was my mainstay and I only pulled out the Canon EOS 10D DSLR I had for making some photos for trip reports. The arrival of a Pentax K10D changed all of that, and I hardly use any film at all now. It wasn't the 2014 photos that took the time but the backlog from previous years too, along with enlargements of older photos originally captured on film. Hopefully, I will keep the album more alive from now on to avoid a backlog like this in the future because another hope of mine would be to keep visiting this wonderful corner of England. If anything, those excursions might be opportunities to correct any misimpressions that I may have as much as seeing new sights and improving on older photographic efforts.
Thoughts of Killarney
11th November 2014 Earlier in the year, I was surprised to see a book on Killarney National Park featured in an issue of Outdoor Photography. It was Norman McCloskey's Parklight. Though some of the images chosen by the magazine were not entirely to my taste, I still ordered a copy of the book for my inspection and there are photos in there that are more to my taste so it was a delightful acquisition. Deservedly, it got airtime on RTÉ Radio 1 in the home country of it's Limerick born author so I hope it has had an audience for the gems found between its covers.
In fact, it brought back memories of day trips to Killarney made with my parents when they still were able to do such things. the last of these was on a scorching Sunday near the end of May in 2010. That had us revisiting delights such as Moll's Gap, Lady's View, Muckross Park and other familiar haunts. Looking back on it now, it was fortunate that the day came that the course that life has taken since then meant that such things are less thinkable than they were in those days.
During two decades of visits, there were a multitude of visits to the aforementioned spots but that was not all. There was a mad car ride (in the family Nissan Sunny no less!) on the gravel track through the Black Valley and the Gap of Dunloe in the heel of an evening while the jarveys were calling it a day. That was not all there was on that day for it was a long drive that was undertaken and cows needed milking after we got home. We celebrated our parents' fortieth wedding anniversary with a boat trip on Lough Leane that started and ended at Ross Castle; the golden wedding anniversary sadly was beset by my father's ever increasing frailty. Torc Waterfall was visited of a greyer and damper day but was none the worse for that and there have been many, many more.
Nowadays, gallivanting as far as Killarney or other beauty spots in Ireland's south western corner have to be put on hold but McCloskey's book got me dreaming a little of the hospitalities offered by a short hotel stay in the town. Ross Castle and Muckross Park are near at hand so old haunts could be retraced. Not having to worry about the patience of a parent not so interested in walking would be liberating too so trots as far as the Meeting of the Waters. Passing Torc Waterfall to follow the Kerry Way out around Torc Mountain and others surrounding it, such as Mangerton. Of course, there would be more than this near Ireland's highest mountains, MacGillycuddy's Reeks. For now, these are dreams in search of an opportunity but no one has excursions without there being ideas beforehand so that never is a bad situation.
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.
