Catherine loves painting and photography as well as the great outdoors. Cycling, kayaking, pack-rafting and hiking are favourite activities as well as scuba diving when the location permits. A self confessed geek, she’s the reason details are included in our stories!
Our flight back to Edinburgh was moved from a respectable 11am to a less respectable 7:45am so we missed our final giant Scottish breakfast. Our taxi picked us up and drove us the short 15 minute journey to Kirkwall airport to await our departure.
Before long, we were seated and taxiing along the runway, taking off over the islands, and a short 45 minutes later, landing in Edinburgh.
The wait for our luggage to emerge was longer than the flight, but soon forgotten as we boarded a bus into the city, being dropped off just around the corner from our hotel.
Arriving so early in the day we left our luggage at the hotel and went out for an explore.
We had landed on a beautiful July day, no wind (we really appreciated that, after the constant blasting across the Orkney Islands) and a rather respectable early 20s in temperature.
Princes Street Gardens are bustling on this lovely morning. No bobble hats required!
It gradually climbed up to 24 degrees by early evening, and we found ourselves enjoying a chilled glass of rosé at a streetside bar, along with the rest of Edinburgh. There really is no better place to enjoy the final sunshine of the day than in a city that really doesn’t take good weather for granted!
Rosé on Rose Street….seems apt!The view from our hotel bedroom window looking north towards Fife
Saturday 13 July
The good weather couldn’t last. of course, and we awoke to grey skies and rain the following morning. We decided to go to the National Museum of Scotland, where many of the most interesting artefacts from the digging in Orkney had ended up.
It was not as easy as we had hoped to find items, and it was more like a treasure hunt as we searched through various displays on life in Scotland over the years to spot things that had been mentioned in Orkney.
A highlight of the museum was climbing up onto the roof which provided amazing views across the city and out towards the castle.
On top of the plug of a 350 million year old extinct volcano, overlooking the city, sits Edinburgh CastleLooking at the multitudes of chimney pots across the skyline, a sign of times pastOn a dour looking day, the brightly painted streets cheer everyone up
We concluded our day at the little Vietnamese restaurant we had visited a week before, again delighted by the fresh flavours and fine food.
Sunday 14 July
It was time to leave Scotland, and we reflected on what a fabulous time we had enjoyed.
The incredible bird and wildlife, delicious seafood and the privilege of visiting the archaeological digs, particularly those at the Ness of Bridger which in just a few weeks time was about to be re-buried for another 20 years, ready for future archaeologists with new technologies to uncover and continue learning.
Discovering the lands of some of my ancestors, feeling that sense of connection as well as the awe of constant learning of the stories of people who have gone before us, it was a privilege to be able to enjoy this very special trip.
We awoke to a spectacular morning, and a 45 minute drive across Mainland took us to another ferry which took us to the island of Hoy.
Fine views of hilly Hoy from our ferry crossing
From there we drove west to Randwick Beach where we commenced our walk.
Foxgloves brightening up the multitude of greens as we walk up to the cliff sideThe locals are quite friendly, if not too chattyMr A leading the wayThere is barely any wind, making for a gorgeous July morningI even didn’t bring a coat…but the beanie stays!We can see a glimpse of the ‘Old Man’ on the horizon as our path winds us through the heather The Old Man of Hoy is a 449-foot (137-metre) sea stack on Hoy, part of the Orkneyarchipelago off the north coast of Scotland. Formed from Old Red Sandstone, it is one of the tallest stacks in the United Kingdom. The Old Man is popular with climbers, and was first climbed in 1966. Created by the erosion of a cliff through hydraulic action some time after 1750, the stack is not more than a few hundred years old, but may soon collapse into the sea.
It was a fabulous walk, and gave us a real taste of the islands when the weather is fine. On a day like this, it would be hard to beat the turquoise waters and white sand beaches, pure and litter-free with no crowds. But we know this is a rare treat.
Before we drove back to the ferry, we decided to do a short side walk up to a tomb; Dwarfie Stane. Incredibly it had been carved out of the rock at a time pre-dating metal tools. The stone on the left was used to plug the entrance. Today you can crawl inside for a look, and two of our fellow walkers tested out the acoustics with a song!
Dwarfie Stane – the name arisen from ledgends of dwarfs due to the low access. The tomb dates to between 3500 and 2500 BC and is the only example of an above ground bolder which has been carved out internally in the British Isles
It was a chilly ferry ride back to Mainland, but to avoid sea sickness we remained outside, wrapped up as best as possible against the icy windchill!
Brrr!
10th July – Rain on Main(land)
Well, it wouldn’t be Scotland without a little bit of moisture, and on this day I think the whole UK was copping it! We arose to heavy grey skies, and they stuck with us all day long, adding some incredible atmosphere to our visits.
Summer weather in Scotland!
On this day we were heading to a small stretch of land between the Loch of Stennis and Loch of Harray to the Ring of Brodgar and the Standing Stones of Stenness – both of which are incidentally older than the more famous Stonehenge, possibly the oldest ‘henge’ in the British Isles (history keeps on being revised, so am sure this will eventually be wrong!).
A village is revealed beside the Loch – mounds and stones, entranceways to doors, fireplaces and more – incredibleOnce the coach party had departed it was possible to feel the mysterious magic about the Stenness stones
We left the Standing Stones and crossed the bridge to walk to the Ness of Brodgar. The wind whistled across the treeless plane, the raindrops whirling around our heads and stinging our eyes, and yet it still added to the amazing atmosphere.
The Stenness Watch Stone keeps an eye on things beside a modern bridge which we cross on foot to visit the Ness of Brodgar
On the other side of the bridge is the Ness of Brodgar, an archaelogical site of several large buildings – some 25 metres long with walls 4 metres thick! Current estimates put it at around 5,000 years ago, and it is believed the buildings were in use for around 1,000 years before they were taken down and buried. The site was only discovered in 2002, and for most of the year it is covered up to protect it from the elements. It was only found because the owner of the nearby house commissioned a team to sow a wildflower meadow in the field beside her home…and they hit more than they bargained for! It is said that local people are nervous to stick a spade in the ground in case they find another historical artifact.
Despite the rain, archaeologists from the world over were busy painstakingly uncovering history from 3000 BCPottery, bones, stone tools and mace heads have been uncovered
We continued our walk next to the Ring of Brodgar – like Stonehenge and Avebury, it is an almost perfect circle. This stone circle has never been excavated, so its interior mysteries still remain. It is set up within a circular ditch.
A mown path through the wildflowers takes us to our first view of the Ring on the horizonA magical moment as the sun emerges briefly, lighting up the stones which are surrounded by heather, buttercups and a multitude of little wildflowersYou can see the layers of the bedrock splitting over time
It’s just incredible to think these stones were all carved out by hand and placed here by ancient civilisations.
Kirkwall was our final destination for the day. I had a wander through St Magnus Cathedral. It is the oldest cathedral in Scotland, built by the Norse Earls of Orkney. While Mr A looked around the museum and browsed the shops in town, I marvelled at the history and many plaques within the church bearing surnames from my family tree. What relatives they were I am unsure, but it was still exciting to see!
St Magnus Cathedral – 1137The Halcro family name stands strong
11th July – Kirkwall reveals more ancestors
Thursday dawned grey and windy, but the rain decided to hold off and there were even hints of sunshine to be seen. After our usual Tesco visit to pick up lunch, we were on our way.
A rare sight of trees around these farm buildings, offering them a little shelter from the relentless winds
Tucked away as we drive along is this magnificent structure built from local stone. Created in the 1600s, it is called the Rendall Doocot – a dovecote built to house pigeons. These birds provided meat for the family at nearby Hall of Rendall. We poked our heads inside and noted there are still pigeons making this their home – I suspect they’re not used for meat these days though.
A short drive past here we caught our ferry for the day, over to the island of Rousay.
Nothing like a bit of uphill to wake up the legs in the morningLunch was beside this stunning beach at Saviskaill, watching a seal swim along the shoreline Local stone is plentiful and put to use everywhere – this over a drainage ditch
After lunch we drove around to the south-west coast, apparently described as ‘the most important historical mile’ in Britain. Our visit commenced with a visit to Midhowe Broch. A broch is a roudhouse building, unique to Scotland, found mostly on the islands and North Highlands. The word broch is derived from the Lowland Scots ‘brough’, meaning fort.
You can see the fortifications along the cliff-edge to protect the broch from being taken by the sea
Situated on the north side of Eynhallow Sound, this broch is part of an ancient iron age settlement, much of which has already been lost to coastal erosion. It would have been inhabited by important community members, with its own spring-fed water tank, and a hearth with sockets which may have held a roasting spit.
After exploring this building, we followed along the coastline to the Midhowe Chambered Cairn. This is around 5,400 years old. It is protected from the elements by an elaborate hangar, with raised pathways allowing visitors to explore the burial chambers without damaging them.
Rousay resident, Walter Grant, was the instigator of the excavation of this tomb, and he constructed the protective hangar in 1935-6 before giving it to the nationThe remains of 25 human skeletons (including two children) were found in the tomb, which was buried within a mound.
Access to human history here feels so tangible. You can see the chips in the stone where they were carved into place, almost as though they happened last week. It feels almost churchlike, with the aisle down the middle and the stalls either side.
As we left the tomb, we followed the coastline past seals basking on the rocks.
I bet those dark rocks warm up nicely in the sunshine
Our next destination along this coastal stroll was the farm of Brough, and low and behold, the Halcro name re-emerges. They were certainly quite prevalent in these islands. I tried to hold back from letting people know they were visiting another of ‘my’ houses!
We continued to where an active dig was happening. They were happy to stop and give us an impromptu talk about what they were finding, excited that there were literally layers upon layers of history in this one site alone. One of the serveral archaeology students digging at the site brought up their finds tray, showing us the many cows teeth and pieces of old china they had found on that morning.
Incredible patience is required to gently sift through the soil in case some major find is revealed. I can’t help but think of my ancestors perhaps sipping on a warm cup of tea here, while watching out to sea at the maelstrom in the bay, where the Atlantic Ocean meets the North Sea.
We hiked back up the hill to our mini-bus to start heading back to the ferry.
So many shades of green
We had only driven a short way when we spotted another tomb – these islands are literally covered in ancient artifacts, and those of us with remaining energy, climbed up the hill, braving the field of cows, to Taversöe Tuick, another chambered cairn on two levels, built around 5,200 years ago.
Calf feeling rather safe beside it’s mother
It was a rather quick look around the cairn (is it possible we had lost some of our enthusiasm for ancient tombs?), before heading back to the ferry.
This marked our final night in the Orkney Islands, and so we were allowed to go back to our rooms to shower and change before going out to dinner. It was our finest restaurant yet, The Foveran, delicious local food (I may have had my fifth serve of scallops in the past week!), with incredible views out to sea.
Our fellow walking crew (minus one who chose not to join us for dinners)
It was an incredible few days on Orkney – every day had been packed with activities from start to finish, making the absolute most of the lovely walks, wildlife and history the islands have to offer. It would have been incredibly hard to book all this yourself. It is virtually impossible to be spontaneous on the little car ferries between the islands, with spaces reserved for locals.
But despite all the amazing things we had seen and done, we have to admit we were ready for some warmer temperatures and a drop in the wind!
Location: Edinburgh and the Orkney Islands, Scotland
Author: Mrs A
Ok, I admit we are a little late posting this, but it has been a very busy summer! We are now on another holiday, this time in France, so I have had a few moments to reflect on our July trip. It will be in 3 parts due to the many photos!
4 July: Off to bonny Scotland
While we officially booked this trip in October last year, the initial seeds for exploring the archipelago of Orkney were sewn back during the Covid lockdown of 2020 when my cousin was working hard to explore our ancestry. She was able to trace on our mother’s side back to Orkney, stumbling on direct links to the King of Norway back in the 1500s. Very exciting! Mark always called me a princess, and now I know I am (or the tip of my little finger is, at least!).
Finally this much anticipated trip was upon us, and we took an EasyJet flight up from Bristol to Edinburgh and checked into our hotel. We had two nights before boarding a short flight over to Orkney Mainland.
Dinner was a fabulous seafood feast at Fishers in the City, somewhere I had eaten at in 2019, but was very keen to bring Mark for our incredible meal of fresh oysters, scallops, squid and other local delicacies.
Dinner didn’t disappoint – even Mr A said it was one of the finest dining experiences he has consumed
5 July: Edinburgh’s underworld
Edinburgh is a bustling and pedestrian-friendly city with a variety of shops, overlooked by the magnificent castle on top of an extinct volcano.
Windswept on the Royal Mile, Edinburgh
It’s been a few years since we last explored this friendly city, and (although some of the local residents could have done with subtitles) it was great to see new things. After a morning of Mr A satisfying his outdoor shop addiction, we attended a tour of one of the ‘underground streets’ of Edinburgh, a 1600s laneway which had been compulsory purchased and used as foundations in the 1700s to create a new indoor marketplace.
The Real Mary King Close – named after Mary King, a fabric merchant who built her own business after her husband’s death, a tour of the close is brought to life by one of the costumed character tour guides. Image source: Forever Edinburgh
The history was fascinating, and it was incredible exploring the low ceilinged rooms and even seeing the hand printed walls still preserved after all these years. It was presented in a somewhat theatrical way, with our guide dressed up and performing as though she was a resident from the lane which distracted a little from the interesting stories.
Dinner was at Sen, a little independent Vietnamese in the University Quarter. The food and menu was so delicious and interesting, we decided to book in for the following week too!
6 July: Another day, another flight
And so off we went to our ultimate destination, the Orkney Islands. It was a quick flight from Edinburgh to Kirkwall, and then a 10 minute taxi ride to our accomodation. The aerial views as we crossed the archipelago were magnificent, with turquoise waters lapping on white sandy beaches. The only thing missing was woodland. We could see the islands stretching across into the horizon, with barely a tree in sight.
A patchwork of greens to greet us
Our first impression of Kirkwall was somewhat grey and unremarkable. The majority of houses are single storey bungalows, or semi-detached, looking like they are on a 1970s council housing estate. Most have been rendered with pebble-dash, and together with the grey skies, and icy-cold July wind, made for a not-so good first impression.
We had dinner in town, the first of many dishes of hand-dived scallops, a speciality the Orkneys are famous for, and met our group guide at 9.30pm for a quick update on the plan for the following morning.
Delicious!
7 July: Westrayreveals its wonders
It was an early start for a huge Scottish breakfast, before loading our walking and photography gear into the back of a mini bus and meeting our fellow hikers for the week; three single ladies, one single man and another couple. The supermarket was our next stop, to pick up yet more food to make up our picnic for the day. This pattern continued all week.
Next it was off to board our ferry to the Isle of Westray, a 90 minute ride away from Orkney Mainland.
Threatening skies on our ferry journey In between the gloomy skies, glimpses of sunshine turning the water into glittering diamonds
Once there, we drove up to the north of the island, where we parked up, donned our backpacks and took off on a hike.
There was little else around us, the occasional farmhouse and plenty of cattle and sheep. No other people to be seen.
A cuddly looking calf watches on curiously as we walk past
I was carrying my telephoto lens on this walk, so was hopeful for no rain. We had been told this was a great nesting area for seabirds, including Arctic Tern, Northern Gannet, Common Guillemot, Kittiwake and the much anticipated Atlantic Puffin.
Arctic Skuas, known as the pirates of the coast, soared along the coastline, ready to thieve the freshly caught fish from other birds.
We followed the coastline, seeing that breeding season was in full swing, with birds perched precariously along the cliff side with their young looking small and vulnerable with the huge drop below.
Northern Fulmar – Rarely seen from land except at colonies such as this – the male is beaded with water droplets, fresh from catching fish for his partnerWrapped up and ready for anything, Mr A got a lot of use out of his binocularsBlack Guillemots wearing their breeding colours – fabulous scarlet legs matching the inside of their mouthRazorbills having a chat on the edge of the cliff. If you look carefully into the shadowy crevice, you will spot an Atlantic Puffin listening in!A Northern Gannet soars along the coastline before diving torpedolike into the ocean for fish.A male Gannet has just brought food to his partner on the cliffsRain jacket and waterproof trousers blocked the wind quite nicely, along with the essential wooly hat!
We were dressed up warm against the cold wind that seemed to be ever present in the Orkneys, the treeless land offering little shelter or resistance, but once mesmerised by the birds, forgot all about the temperatures.
You could sit and watch the interaction between the birds for hours, accompanied by a constant cacophony of calls
And, of course, the Puffins! They showed up in their comical way, like little clowns with their brightly coloured beaks and legs and yellow cheek spots.
And suddenly a Puffin appears on the cliff beside us! He’s in full breeding colours with white face and bright yellow cheek and a white extension to the beak between the black and red colouring.You know that classic picture of a Puffin with a bunch of fish in its beak? Well, I didn’t capture that one – just this one holding a feather!
It was hard to tear ourselves away, but after consuming our lunches we continued on our walk.
Mr A chatting to our fascinating guide, Alayne, who was a great storyteller with a lot of knowledge about the islands
A short drive in our minibus took us to the ruins of a castle with a chequered history. Noltland Castle was built for Gilbert Balfour, master of Mary Queen of Scots’ household in the late 16th century. Apparently 71 gun holes dot the walls, making it as much of a fortress as a manor house. Apparently he was quite paranoid about being murdered!
Commanding views across the relatively flat landscape
After leaving this castle, we were taken on a short walk to another one – Castle o’Burrian, a squat sea stack with a bustling Atlantic Puffin colony. We sat on the cliff edge watching in wonder at the birds as they made their clumsy, fluttering flight, sitting amongst the sea pinks and grasses, and taking many photos.
Puffin kisses – rubbing beaks to show affection – apparently they mate for life and this is a bonding ritual they undertake after being out at seaGetting ready for take-offJust bobbingA non-Puffin! Walking along the cliff back to our minibus we get the feeling we are being watched…and indeed we are. Far beneath us is a seal. There are two types found in Orkney; the Grey Seal and the Common/Harbour seal. About 15% of the world’s population of Grey seal lives here, and they are well known for following in the water as people walk along the shore!
Our final destination before our journey back was to a tiny museum which, among many other incredible discoveries, housed Scotland’s earliest representation of a human form, uncovered at an archaeological dig in 2009.
The Westray Wife – found at the Links of Noltland. Made from sandstone
A ferry back to Mainland, and dinner in a local restaurant concluded our day by 10pm, just in time for sunset.
8th July – Scara Brae and Stromness
Our start was a little later this morning, as we didn’t need to catch any ferries, our day entirely on Mainland.
Can you spot Twatt? Apparently the sign has been stolen so many times they no longer use one!
The day dawned bright and sunny, and although the wind remained, it felt quite a bit warmer and so one or two less layers were donned.
We started off with a drive across to the north-west of the island, where we did a spectacular coast walk to another major bird colony.
Our walk’s start point affords us a great view of Old Man Hoy, a sea stack off the coast of the island of HoyA huge Northern Gannet colony on the cliffs – the noise is incredible!There are many wild rabbits on this part of the island, including several black ones we spotted. There are no major raptors around to catch them, since the last Golden Eagle failed to rear chicks and died out in 1982.The huge seabird colony at Marwick Head – turn up your sound for the full effect! Up on top of the headland is the Kitchener Memorial, built to commemorate the HMS Hampshire which hit a mine in Marwick Bay in 1916. It sunk in just 15 minutes, resulting in more than 700 lives lost.Black-legged Kittiwakes perch alongside Razorbills on precarious and often uncomfortable looking ledges, raising their young
Finishing our walk we headed down to Sand Geo, a beach by some old fisherman’s huts for our lunch. Out of the wind it was almost warm! The huts themselves date to the 1800s and were designed as shelters for the local fisherman, house boats and equipment.
Looking up at the fisherman’s hutsSand Geo, our picturesque lunch spotA non highland cow using a bull as a pillowThe motley crew of hikers
Scara Brae was our next destination, much anticipated and read about in advance, though once we arrived we realised that most of what we had researched was already out of date and superseded with new learning – even the information in the visitor centre was now out of date.
Scara Brae is Europe’s most complete and well preserved Neolithic village which literally emerged from the sand dunes after storms in 1850. You can almost imagine the amazement as literally overnight houses were revealed, complete with stone beds, dressing tables, fireplaces, drainage and even toilets were revealed. People would have lived here between about 3180 BCE to about 2500 BCE, and at the time the Orkney Islands would have been far further south, with a much warmer climate.
The site sits on the edge of a white sand bayThe houses had drainage and stone bed areas, and would have had stone slabs on the roofIt felt quite eerie seeing such familiar things from more than 5,000 years agoThe houses had curved walls, not corners as seen on the right hand side, and no windows. The ‘dresser’ front and centre of the room was thought to display precious things, the beds surrounding the fire in the centre of the home
The house from which the village was first discovered is called Skaill House, and in it I was able to find a huge family tree on a wall which mentioned people on my family tree. By this stage I have lost trace of what relative Bishop Honeyman was, but we certainly have Honeyman genes in us somewhere!
My house! Ha ha!The beach in front of the house, surrounded by sand dunesThe family tree, which somehow leads to me on the Honeyman side
Our route took us on another short walk, this time to another magnificent sea stack along the coast, with some fauna and flora unique to Orkney along the way.
Yesnaby Castle sea stack – we watched the three kayakers explore the caves in the cliffI wonder how long until this completely collapses?When you get close to the ground you see it is rich in tiny plants and flowers, all adapted to existing in these harsh conditions – the purple flowers are wild thyme, the yellow are TormentilPrimula scotia – the Scottish Primrose – endemic to just three areas – Caithness, Sutherland and Orkney. It is commonly overlooked as its flowers are so tinyThis bee didn’t look well, but was alive. It is an endangered Moss Carder Bumblebee, and only found in the far northwest of the Scottish mainland, Orkney and some of the Hebridean islands.
We jumped back into the bus for our final destination for the day, the small town of Stromness, where more people from my family tree lived, and then sailed from to Canada to become founding members of the European settlers there.
It was just spine tingling seeing the well from which the ships would have filled up their water for the journey, and finding the oldest house in Stromness, which would have been modern in my ancestors time, and perhaps somewhere they would have visited.
Marking the location of the wellThe entrance to the oldest remaining house in Stromness – built in 1716 and known as the Miller’s House
It’s easy to delve down rabbit holes on the interweb and a quick read about the time my ancestors would have lived there reveals a town with no sewerage, little fresh water, and no indoor sanitisation. Not a hard place to leave, once would assume, when invited to settle a new land with the promise of fine farmland and adventures across the oceans.
Stromness HarbourOld fisherman’s cottagesThe water was very serene
A pub dinner concluded our amazing day, and again we were home in time for sunset, just after 10pm.
10:10pm and the sun is just going down. At this time of year the dusk stretches out until around midnight, and then it starts getting light again around 4am!
It won’t surprise you to learn that the trend of showery weather continued after we departed Josselin. Lunch supplies were sourced from the supermarket before we left – today was going to be quite a long ride, with few options of places to stop.
The next downpour is approaching – our path east followed the left hand side of the River Oust.
Fun fact: Brittany is considered to be a Celtic Nation, along with Wales, Cornwall, Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man – In the UK there are many rivers known as the River Ouse – a derivative of the Celtic word ‘Usa’, from *udso-, which simply means ‘water’. ‘River Ouse’ therefore means ‘River Water’. It may be that the Oust has similar origins.
This part of the river is rather picturesque, lined with trees and a perfectly smooth surface that would put British roads to shame, just fabulous riding country.
A vibrant grey, black and yellow Grey Wagtail stops for a rest from catching insects over the waterYellow Iris lined waterways
And so our meditation continued, taking us back into the rhythm of our journey, always listening, watching for splashes, aromas of the pungent decaying leaves from last autumn’s fall tingling the nostrils, our senses constantly alert in the absence of the multitude of distractions in everyday life. The definition of a holiday.
Yes that is a boat way in the distance – the first one we have spotted on our travels. Much of the Nantes-Brest canal has not been navigable – many of the bridges were destroyed during WWII and rebuilt quickly, not allowing space for boats to pass underneath…and another first – a Mute Swan – in the UK they are plentiful along the waterways, but here we have travelled many kilometres before seeing this, our first one in France!
Our route was diverted due to maintenance along the towpath, which added a few extra kilometres, taking us off along quiet country lanes, past sleepy farms and fields of flowers.
The bees love this mauve tansy-leaf phacelia – this is planted as a green manure to regenerate the soil. At the end of the season it will be ploughed back into the field, enriching it with nitrogen.
Our journey ended in the town of Redon, a junction point of the Oust River, which we were following, and the Vilaine, which winds north to Rennes and from there flows out into the Atlantic Ocean at Pénestin.
Dramatic skies over the marina at Redon – plenty of navigable waters means boating is quite popularAfter days of traffic free riding, being confronted with large lorries and other vehicles was quite a shock to the system!
Dinner was at a delicious Cambodian and Asian restaurant, Saveurs d’Asie. As lovely as French food is, you do sometimes need a little variety and spice in your life!
Saturday 18th May – Redon to Guipry-Messac (47km)
We awoke to a strange phenomenon – a dry forecast, sunshine and lots of cyclists! Yes it was the weekend, and it seems every group of friends in Redon jumps on their bike and goes riding.
There are many circuits signposted – most starting along the River Vilaine, and then weaving off through quiet countryside. The dry weather had everyone out, and it was a joy to see.
As we wove our way to the Vilaine, we came across one cyclist who wasn’t going on towpaths. I don’t think either of us had seen a bike towing a caravan before, but if you dive down that particular Google rabbit hole, you will find quite a few articles talking about it!
Off on a different kind of adventure to us!
And so we turned north for the first time this trip, and began following the Vilaine River towards Rennes.
It was a spectacular morning, with families cruising on the river, and a lot of cyclists. None stopped for a picnic like we did though, and enjoyed a feast of a lunch with a fine view.
Our typical lunch – salad with fish and hummus, coupled with a cup of herbal tea. I carried the vinaigrette in my bike’s drink bottle holder! Superb!
It really wasn’t long before all the other cyclists had turned off and it was back to being the two of us riding along the river. When I say the two of us, I meant us and many birds. In fact so many cuckoos that I renamed our route ‘Cuckoo Valley’.
At one point along our cycle we looked up into the blue skies, spotting some huge birds circling in the warm wind currents. I looked them up – White Storks, and not a baby between them!
A long way up! White Storks looking black against the sky
We continued on our way north, relishing the dry weather.
Wildflowers galore along the water’s edgeThe train from Rennes to Morlaix crossing a bridgeNo waterproofs – hurrah!Poppies starting to bloom in a field
On we rode to our destination for the day, the sleepy little village of Guipry-Messac. Or so we thought it was sleepy. It seems to be going through a bit of a revival, with some very grand houses often recently renovated, and more on their way.
We booked what looked like to be the best restaurant in town, located in the middle of the river, accessible by bridge, and after a chilled out end to the day, strolled down for our meal.
Fine dining indeedOur first proper sunset of the tripOur restaurant in an old water mill – there are glass tiles through which you can see the wheel turning below you
The restaurant was quite well attended, and we appeared to be the only tourists, and certainly the only non-French people there. We worked out that this village is only a 30 minute train commute into the nearest city, Rennes, and therefore would be an attractive location for those who want a little peace and quiet outside of their working life. It certainly ticked all our boxes
Sunday 19th May – Guipry-Messac to Rennes (50 km)
We farewelled our host, conveying in broken French that we regretted not being able to learn more about his beautiful home and grounds, and giving his little dog, Scot, a final cuddle before we mounted our steeds and continued our journey north.
It was another fine day, and beautiful ride. As a sunny Sunday, there were other cyclists and pedestrians about, particularly as we rode on towards Rennes.
Magnifient bridge for trains crossingThis is a rejuvenated quarry. We stopped off here after hearing bird calls which my Merlin App identified as Peregrine Falcons. A birder arrived soon after we did carrying a spotting scope, and told me he had been watching the birds for months, and they had a nest with chicks on the cliffs. He let us see the female Peregrine through his scope, sitting up in one of the trees watching us. What a special experience!
Lunch was in a picturesque location along the river on one of the many picnic benches conveniently placed. The river led us right into the centre of Rennes, after which the town had many cycleways guiding us right to our accomodation.
More fresh salad and some bread from breakfast for our lunch picnic, along with a cup of tea
Our home for the next two nights was an unusual hotel, The Magic Hall. It is a bar and restaurant too, with one large communal table for people to eat at, and people are encouraged to cook their own meals. In addition to all this, it also had a recording studio! It had a very good vibe.
Cheers!
We celebrated our arrival with a drink, before storing our bikes in the hotel and settling into our film-themed room. All of the rooms had a different theme, and ours was predominantly Pulp Fiction based, with photography from the film framed around the walls.
We strolled into town to find some dinner, spotting an Asian-themed Poke Bowl and Bao Bun takeaway spot. Just what we fancied. As soon as we arrived, the heavens literally opened, turning the streets into rivers and sending people dashing under umbrellas and into stores. We settled down the enjoy our food.
Looking out into the very wet courtyard – raining in Rennes – what a surprise!
Monday 20th May – A day in Rennes (15km walked)
One of the great challenges in France seems to be finding a business open, there seems to be few chances to spend money with anyone. This warm, sunny Monday morning was just like this.
Rennes – the city that sleeps!Lovely cobbled streets and very few people
Rennes is the capital city of Brittany. Like so many of the villages and towns we had cycled through, it is known for its medieval half-timbered houses, and the grand Rennes Cathedral.
Magnificent cathedral
The city is home to 66,000 students, with the 8th largest university in France, and the overall vibe is young and modern. It is one of France’s ‘silicon valley’s’ considered a centre of technical innovation, and has been voted the most liveable city in France. We loved how some of the old architecture had been melded with the ultra modern in an arty and interesting way which didn’t feel at odds with the historical centre.
Part of the old city wall which has been integrated with the growing centrePart of the university emerges from this old church building, with rotating mirror windows that catch the sunlight and send beams across the courtyard
Quintin, one of the hotel managers (an expat who grew up near Exeter in Devon, UK but who has lived in France for most of his adult life) told us that cars were moved out of the city in 2020, and the bicycle became the primary mode of transport, along with the metro and travelling on foot. It was lovely to stroll around cobbled streets without motor vehicles, no fear of being run down or our ears assaulted with the roar of engines after our days of the sounds of nature.
Parc du Thabor is in the centre of the city – once the domain of monks with no access to the everyday person, today it is a beautiful park full of water features, mature trees, and stunning rose gardens. They also had an aviary, mostly visited by excited children who delighted in poking sticks through the cage for the (mostly Australian – cockatiels, rosellas, budgerigars, zebra finches and so on) birds to land on.
Reflecting on RennesParc du Thabor is a place of serenity – many flowers and a newly fledged blue tit chick being fed by busy parents
We marvelled at how many people were in the park, and why they were not at lectures or working on this Monday morning. A quick Google search revealed it was a public holiday, one of many in France, this one to mark Whit Monday (celebrating the ‘birth’ of the Christian church). It also semi-explained why all the shops were closed (I say semi, as the opening hours often excluded Monday anyhow!).
We finished our visit to Rennes with dinner at a seafood restaurant, served by a waiter who delighted in telling all visitors how good their French was (even if it was terrible!).
Oysters as an entree – very tasty indeed
Tuesday 21 May: Rennes to Morlaix by train, then Morlaix to Roscoff by bike…or not for Mr A (28.5 km cycled)
We farewelled the friendly folk at The Magic Hall, and rode off towards Rennes train station, from which we had booked a train to take us and our bikes back to Morlaix, and from there we would cycle back to Roscoff for our final night.
The first 500 metres went without issue, but then we heard a loud ‘crack’ and Mr A could no longer pedal his bike. The carbon belt (instead of a metal chain), had snapped! What a nightmare!
Uh-oh, no more cycling til this can be replaced
I quickly got onto Google to see whether there was a bike shop nearby, and rode off to ask whether they could help. Mark soon scooted behind me, and they checked the size. Unfortunately they had the next size up, but not the one we needed.
On the way to the station there was another shop, so I rode off to buy lunch for the train journey, while Mr A scooted the bike to the next shop. Unfortunately we were unlucky again. It would take 2 days to order one in. We were ferrying back to the UK tomorrow, so could not wait. So we headed to the train.
Boarding the train was not as awful as we anticipated, with our pre booked large cycle space allowing our bikes to be stored level – far better than the ridiculous tiny space on UK trains where you have to hook your heavy bikes up somehow.
This is how bikes should be carried on trains – they even had their own seatbelt
The journey was spent translating and sending messages to all the bike shops in Morlaix in the hope they might have a spare belt there. Annoyingly, the message was the same – it would take 2-3 days for the right size belt to arrive.
We got to Morlaix and spoke to the taxi drivers at the station, but none of them was willing to carry a heavy e-bike to Roscoff. I then noticed a load of Europcar hire vans parked on the other side of the station. Perhaps we could hire one of those? We found the hire shop, conveniently right opposite the station, complete with staff who could speak English fluently. Mr A hired a van for 90 minutes for €50 and took off with his bike in the back.
It was another sunny afternoon, so rather than drive the final stage, I jumped on my bike and rode to Roscoff.
My view as I rode into Roscoff
Mr A arrived back in Roscoff by bus some time later, and we sat down by the harbour in a bar with outside seating for a calming beverage. Phew. That was a stressful day, but we had made it!
Our harbour side view – even on a Tuesday evening it was busy with people playing pétanque and enjoying the warm weather
Roscoff is a very sweet fishing village, which also is home to the Brittany Ferries port to Plymouth and Ireland. It was bustling on this warm, sunny evening, but we were so tired from our day, we skipped dinner and went to our sea-view room to relax.
Wednesday 22 May – Roscoff to Plymouth – the end of the trip
It was an early start, with Mr A scooting his bike to the port at 7am, and me following shortly later under pedal-power. Cyclists boarded first, and we were soon on our way back across the English Channel to the UK, an easy end to a superb holiday.
Getting ready to leave the ferry at Plymouth
Reflections on an amazing cycling adventure in Brittany by Mr A
“Ah ….the serenity”..is a famous line from an Australian movie called The Castle, and is contentedly uttered breathlessly by one of the main characters. Now I use the phrase, like many other Australians, in moments of bliss, where life is at a slow pace, stress free and often when in nature.
For me this is the essence of what this trip meant to me. Take noisy combustion engined vehicles out of your holiday equation, and what you experience around you fundamentally alters. Then slow down your viewing to that of about three times your walking speed. Fast enough to propel you through a variety of different landscapes, slow enough to allow you to stop whenever something catches your eye, ears or nose. This is cycle touring, and I love it.
Then you add in a traffic free cycling infrastructure, that Brittany (and the rest of mainland Europe) has a plethora of, and you have an almost endless set of well marked paths (the Eurovelo network) on which to explore this fascinating continent. Someone else has already done the route finding for you, diversions labelled to point you to sustenance, or accomodation that you won’t find on Booking.com. To see this almost endless set of touring possibilities opened up, just a ferry ride away, is totally amazing and feeds the wanderlust that has always fuelled our pleasure centres.
Finally, the holiday for me created memories I will value of people we connected with because we were staying in guest houses and small privately owned hotels. For instance, the couple who had moved from the industrial heart of England to the rural depths of Britanny, purchasing a friend’s boutique canal-side hotel, neither having ever been in the hospitality business before. Bold move right? No going back once you jump into a much cheaper property market (as we have also done). Or the guy running another small hotel, who I was a little intrigued about, and observed to as we left (thanks to Google Translate), “I wonder what your story is?”. That night he took the time and trouble (and trust) to share via long text what that story was. Very moving, and inspiring actually.
Strangers intersecting on their life paths, and learning a little of each other on the way, perhaps changing their own views a little as a result. For me this is a wonderful element to this type of holiday, and so different to our city break type trips. I’ve enjoyed the latter, but am left feeling a little like “did we really touch and feel this place?”, after a few days of dashing round the sights, staying in big anonymous hotels. With cycle touring, the possibility to really get an insight into the country is so different.
So thats my two penny’s worth on the trip.
Things may have been challenging at times, but we both had a superb time, worked well together to solve problems, and are looking forward to planning our next adventure. Thank you for joining us on this one!
We have just arrived home from a superb ten days exploring Brittany by e-bike. Day after day of riding along stunning canals, lined with yellow flag irises, the cacophony of birdsong from the multitude of wrens, cuckoos, woodpeckers, blackbirds, robins and more accompanying the crunch of gravel as our wheels turned. At almost every bend in the river or canal we were welcomed by the heady scent of May tree blossom, a perfume so powerful we never failed to turn and admire the small white flowers. And yes, it rained, but the sun shone too, and we really appreciated those warm rays when they came.
The initial dream for this trip came from Mr A, after he had returned from a 10 day adventure with our friend Owen, cycling from Roscoff to Saint-Brieuc in Brittany late last September. They both returned gushing with stories of the people they had met, the incredible food and stunning weather which accompanied them on their trip.
In January this year, the winter weather dreary and wet, our hearts heavy with the loss of Tassie, Mr A and I sat at our kitchen bench, booked our ferry tickets to France, with the intention of repeating at least some of the adventure they undertook. We set about planning our route and accommodation. May, we thought, will be the sunniest month, the spring flowers, the birds, it will be perfect.
Yes, the adventure was to be on pedal-assisted bikes – these are not mopeds, we have to pedal to get the help from the motors, cheating in the eyes of some cycling purists, but for us, it means we actually get out there and see the world on two wheels AND enjoy the process. The only way to go!
Saturday 11 May – Plymouth, Devon, UK
And so finally we found ourselves in Plymouth. We parked the car in a secure space, and loaded the bikes with our panniers, and took off into town for an explore before dinner. The weather was glorious, and the waterside absolutely packed with semi-naked people enjoying the weather and making the most of the outside seating at the many pubs along there. We stopped for a drink, chatting with a couple from Cornwall, just a few miles down the road.
Dinner had been booked at a seafood restaurant in a very salubrious area of Plymouth, the newly gentrified Royal William Yard, a collection of Grade I listed buildings which were formerly Royal Navy supply yards, built in 1825. It shone out as a jewel in Plymouth, particularly on this sunny evening.
Yup – all our clothes, toiletries, stove and picnic gear – even a table – are in these panniers!It was a Provence Rose kind of evening
After dinner, we jumped on the bikes and rode a short way to Brittany Ferries, where we were soon boarded, and holed up in our cabin for the overnight sailing.
A fine sunset to see us off
Sunday 12 May – Roscoff to Morlaix, Brittany (39 km)
Author: Mr A
And we’re on tour! We left Plymouth last night and took the overnight ferry to Roscoff in Brittany, to kick off 11 days cycle touring around this fabulous part of France.
Initially we are following the route Owen and I did last September, but then continuing on further south down the Nantes – Brest canal and then over to the regions capital, Remmes.
Well it got off to a good start, with a smooth crossing, although with a 4.30 alarm this morning to get us docked by 5, it felt like a long day already.
And. we have touchdown in France (after 3 hours of very broken sleep!)A glorious sunrise to welcome us to France as we ride straight from the ferry onto the cycle trailQuiet country lanes escort us around the coastA sea mist soon rolls in, obscuring the sunBoats along the coast look like they are almost flying, as sea and sky combine
We had a very easy ride around the coast though, stopping to snag the last baguette in a little village shop for a picnic brunch with a view across the Morlaix estuary, and quickly followed by a cheeky nap on a bench.
We cycled in past this rather grand marina on the Morlaix River
We were soon in Morlaix itself, a town Owen and I had really liked. It doesn’t feel over touristed in this part of Brittany, and everyone is very welcoming.
The town of Morlaix is dominated by a huge granite railway viaduct, built in just 2 years (1861-63) by 2,000 workers.We found a path that led us across the viaduct, giving a fabulous unique view of the townHalf timbered houses from the 16th Century line many of Morlaix’s streets
The sun made a showing, so it was a no rush lunch with a delicious big salad. Everything always tastes just so fresh here. Two sales, one ice cream, a beer and lite bottle of water all for less than 40 Euros.
Our home for the night, a gorgeous old manor house in its own private grounds, and very grand rooms with a fab brekky. All for the princely sum of 125 Euros! Great value here.
We slept really well!
Monday 13 May – Morlaix to Rostrenen (82 km)
Author: Mrs A
Rain greeted us as soon as we awoke, and did not stop all day. This was to be our longest day of riding, also the hilliest with a few rail trails alongside the canal towpaths. I will not lie, it was tough, and I really felt my 50% closed airway on the half a kilometre of climbing!
We left Morlaix, sourcing ourselves a fresh baguette on the way out, the kindly baker cutting it in half so we could stow it away in a waterproof pannier. It was not long before we were on traffic-free pathways. The stress of vehicles in poor visibility removed, we were free to concentrate on avoiding potholes and keeping upright in the somewhat slippery conditions.
Mr A enjoying a downhill segment of an old railwaySheltering under a bridge for a drink break – still smiling!
We were in as much waterproof protection as possible, right down to our socks, but it was no match to the heavy precipitation which endured throughout the day. Fortunately it was not cold, and we still managed to smile through the damp and have a superb ride through the countryside.
Our typical view as we cycled the towpaths, very few people out in this weather, but anyone we did see always calling out “Bonjour” with a wry smile
Our destination for the night was a canalside house near the village Rostrenen. Thankfully our host was well aware that on a Monday night there was no food to be purchased, so had offered to cook for us.
We arrived late afternoon, finding an ex-pat Brit running the B&B, who is also a cycling fanatic. He was very forgiving of our dripping state, helped us hose off our muddy bags and bikes, and set up drying racks for our jackets and trousers. We had really fallen on our feet.
Postcards in the reception area give some suggestion as to what we might have seen on a blue-sky day
Dinner was served after we had showered and changed into dry clothes, our room strewn with all our wet stuff, attempting to dry them over radiators and towel rails. We shared a bottle of wine with our host, as he shared tales of how he and his wife had ended up in France.
After a long day, we turned in for the night, I just about glimpsed a tinge of pink in the clouds as I drew the curtains…the sun was setting and had even shown its face for the occasion. Hopefully the next day would be a little drier.
Tuesday 14th May – Rostrenen to Pontivy (60 km)
Author: Mrs A
Sunshine!
The day started off with 15 minutes of sunshine…followed by 30 minutes of rain…which pretty much set off the trend for the day. After yesterday’s soaking however, we were happy to accept any amount of dry time!
We had not long left our accommodation before we stumbled across our first challenge – a tree down across the path. We consulted with a couple of local walkers, who said it must have fallen overnight, and with the help of Google, I plotted a short diversion via quiet lanes. Problem quickly solved.
The sunny spells gradually got a bit longer, and at times during the day we even left off our waterproofs – only having to stop a short while later to put them back on!
Our ride continued along the Nantes-Brest canal, weaving its way past locks and old lock-keeper cottages. Wagtails seemed to guide us along our path, flitting in and out of the trees, landing on the floor just ahead of us, only to repeat the process again. You could not help but absorb their joy.
Brightly coloured Foxgloves offer a break from the multitude of greens
We were not far from our destination for the day, Pontivy, when I spotted something interesting on the other side of the water – an otter! It also spotted us and dove under the water, only to pop up right in front of us, then disappear into the riverbank before I could grab the camera. I will never forget seeing that beady eye and twitching whiskers as it gave a final kick and disappeared into the undergrowth.
An otter lives here!
Pontivy is a small town, like Morlaix, full of half-timbered buildings, but unlike Morlaix, only a few places to eat and drink. And eating and drinking was on our minds once we had arrived at our hotel, as we were meeting our friends from Wales, Lauris and Ed. They were on holiday in France, and had diverted their journey to come and meet us for an evening.
We stored our bikes in the hotel’s secure garage, and after a quick freshen up joined our friends for drinks and nibbles before a superb dinner in a restaurant just down the road. I had booked it online, using Google translate to explain my dairy-free dietary requirements (a strange concept in butter-filled northern France!), and their chef was well prepared to make me a delicious meal without milk. Amazing. A fun night out.
Wednesday 15 May: Pontivy to Josselin (54 km)
Author: Mrs A
We had breakfast with our friends, before packing up for our day’s ride. We started off a little dusty after our late night, but soon blew the cobwebs away as we got back into the rhythm of riding.
The freedom of having everything with you and simply following a cycle trail means your mind has a moment to drift and absorb everything around you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, knowing you are safe from traffic, and instead free to smell, hear, observe and absorb life along the canal.
About mid-day we passed the point where Mr A and Owen had turned left. We were now on new territory for both of us.
A Grey Heron takes flight as we ride pastMr A and Owen took the rigol d’Hivern (Hilvern channel – built to funnel water into the Nantes-Brest Canal) towards Saint-Brieuc at this point
The weather had improved to the point where the sunny periods were longer than the rain, but we kept those waterproofs handy, as when the clouds decided to leak, it was pretty heavy!
Before long we began seeing a few more cyclists and dog walkers along the path, always a sure sign we are approaching a settlement, and lo and behold, we had arrived at Josselin.
Josselin Castle, quite a magnificent sight as we arrive into town
We’d not eaten lunch, and arriving at 2:30pm had low expectations on finding any food. All the cafes in town, even the one kebab shop, were closed, so we rode out to the supermarket and picked up a few bits and pieces for a picnic.
At 5pm we were able to check into our accommodation for the evening, set in one of Josselin’s largest houses, with a covered deck out the back where we could charge up the bike batteries and keep them dry.
Thursday 16 May – Day off riding in Josselin
Back in January when we were planning this trip, we had done a bit of reading about our destinations, and felt Josselin might be a good place to stop for two nights. Carrying limited clothes means we had to do some washing, so this was the spot to do it.
Our hostess loaned us drying rack which we left undercover while we explored the small town and found ourselves some lunch. Brittany is well known for its buckwheat crêpes, both sweet and savoury, so we found ourselves a local cafe with lunch specials, and settled down. The crêpes are usually made with butter, but I asked politely and the chef used oil for mine instead. It was very delicious and light, served with cooked tomatoes, anchovies and salad.
Excuse the untidy hair – here was lunch!
After lunch I approached another restaurant in town to see whether we could book a table for that evening. There were two 5-star restaurants in Josselin, and we had eaten at the other one the previous evening. I gave notice of my dairy-intolerance and was shocked when the chef exclaimed “Non!”. They would rather not have either of us to dinner than be flexible with the menu. So no booking there. Instead, we made a reservation at the same spot as last night, La Table d’O – previous winners of the Best Restaurant in Brittany, and well deserved too.
There was more exploring to be done. First of all, I climbed the church tower to get a magnificent view of the town and surroundings.
The church is right in the centre of the village, and the last place to see the sun at sunset – as seen from our bedroom windowAnd looking back at our accommodation from the top of the church towerAnd an aerial view of our next destination for the day, Josselin CastleTop: Proof of life – after the exhausting climb up the narrow spiral staircase – Left: looking up into the spire Right: Looking down at the town hall
I met Mr A back down on the cobbled streets and we made our way towards the picturesque Josselin Castle. I tried to purchase a tour in English, but apparently the translator was not working that day, so instead we did a short self tour, using the information boards in English.
Parts of Josselin Castle date back to 1008, but most of the current castle is from the late 1300s As soon as you walk in there is a rather spooky museum of dolls and puppets, which we whizzed through and out into the magnificent gardens.
The English Garden – full of roses and Foxgloves of every colourThe door to nowhere – this tower was once a part of defensive walls, now long goneSitting alongside the River Oust, the provides is a commanding view, its fairytale towers majestically dominating the local scenery
The castle is still being lived in by one of the original family members – a thousand years of occupancy. Those floors are of course inaccessible to tourists. We tried to learn what the occupant does for a living, but other than being a senator, we learned little.
Our visit to Josselin concluded with a superb dinner at La Table d’O, with delicious food and a magnificent view of the castle as the sun set.
I even got a dairy-free dessert! Mr A had a cheese platter, and they kindly took a photo of us both with the castle view
Tomorrow we were off again. I know we were both excited to get away again, some freshly clean clothes, rested legs and recharged bikes. What adventures, sights, sounds and smells would lay ahead of us? We would soon discover…
Location: Woolacombe, Mortehoe, Ilfracombe and Lee, North Devon, UK
After a couple of years mostly settling into our new life in Somerset, it was time to get out on the road again, so we decided to dip our toes in the water with a little three night trip to North Devon. We packed up our little Hymer 444 and Mr A hit the road, with me tagging along in our little 4WD Suzuki Jimny, giving us flexibility to explore beyond our campsite.
The Doctor (Jimny) and Truffy (Motorhome) and SUNSHINE!
Mr A had spent most of his childhood holidays with his parents in Woolacombe, and was keen to see whether the town of his 1960s memories was anything like it is today….though beyond ‘the beach had sand on it’, there wasn’t too much to work with.
We arrived to a spectacular blue sky and generally stunning afternoon. It’s only a 90 minute drive from home, so theoretically could be a day trip, but it was great to know we had some solid time to explore this piece of the coast. So after getting Truffy set up, we jumped in the Jimny and drove to nearby village, Mortehoe for a walk.
It was so good to see the sun! And when we were sheltered it was even nice enough to take off the jackets and soak up the rays. Some of the really keen folk (who hadn’t spent the last 2.5 decades living in Australia) were in shorts, but not us. We did a walk around the coast, before stopping at one of the two village pubs for a refreshing beverage.
Out of the wind it was rather pleasant!
We drove down into Woolacombe, Mr A recognising the Woolacombe Bay Hotel (link worth clicking on even if only for the impressive website, showing off Woolacombe!), a very posh (and very expensive) hotel with a commanding view out to sea.
One thing we have noticed in Somerset and Devon is that there are many towns with the term ‘combe’ (pronounced coom) in their name. We have learned since moving here that a combe is a valley. Woolacombe was first recorded in the Domesday book in 1086 as Wolnecoma, literally meaning ‘Wolves Valley’. At the time the valley was thickly wooded and presumably wolves could be found.
The following morning was slightly less blue, but dry nevertheless, and Ilfracombe was our destination.
The 1,014km South-west Coast Path runs through this part of the coast, and we decided to check it out. Spectacular coastal views and steep paths were visible, but with my dodgy breathing and Mr A’s recently rolled ankle, we were not game to do more than admire the views and return to town.
Bluebell lined footpaths lead us through the woodland to the coastLooking south towards WoolacombeLooking north towards Ilfracombe
Friends in our village had recommended we book lunch at S&P Fish Shop on the edge of the harbour, famous for their fresh seafood platters. We had an explore around the picturesque harbour before tucking in to a feast. Lobster, king prawns, school prawns, mussels, pipis, salmon and more….we haven’t had a platter like this since our wedding anniversary last year!
Ifracombe has a working fishing industry – everything we ate was fresh and localWhat a feast!
We continued our exploration, with the cloud burning off as the day progressed, treating us to another sunny afternoon.
At the entrance to Ilfracombe’s harbour is this rather confronting sculpture – a pregnant woman, stood on a pile of books, half her skin stripped back to reveal her muscles and sinews, the foetus in her womb, thrusting forth a sword into the sky, and holding the scales of justice behind her back. This statue, Verity, was created by Damian Hirst, and is on loan to the town for 20 years. It’s currently the second tallest statue in the UK. More details here.
Our final day dawned and we decided to take a walk from the campsite. I plotted a route on Komoot, and we packed up a lunch to take with us. A steep downhill footpath took us to part of the Southwest Coast Path, and a chill wind right off the sea.
Our cliff top path weaving ahead of usA calf bravely eyes us off from a safe distance, before skittering away to hide behind the brightly flowering gorseBeanies donned against the fresh breeze
We turned right and wove our way along the cliff top to the next little village, Lee, which sat nestled in a sheltered valley. Lee Bay is a rock-pooler’s paradise, calm and quiet, with plenty of exploring to be done. It was inaccessible on our visit, with a large section of land just behind it being developed for apartments and houses.
The rocky Lee BayOur lunch companion – one of a pair of somewhat disappointed Robins, miffed to learn we had made ourselves prawn salads rather than sandwiches, but making do with a few spare seeds we had as dressing.
We followed our path up the valley, spotting that the pub was open. It would be rude to pass through and not offer them our patronage, so we called in for a cup of tea and a vegan cookie. So civilised. Despite being a mid-week, somewhat gloomy Thursday afternoon, it was quite busy with people stopping for coffee and tea, and as we set off, a large group of 10 arriving for lunch. Mr A asked the bar-lady how the wet weather had impacted business.
“Ah”, she replied, “It has been up and down, and is definitely seasonal. You’ve just got to learn to dance with it.”
What a fabulous attitude, and one we are definitely learning to adopt in our new life.
The Grampus Inn – a very cosy pub, with parts of the building dating back to the 14th Century when it was part of a working farmRhododendron and sweet chestnut flowers brightening up our climb back out of the valley
We finished our visit with a superb dinner at the Beach House Restaurant in Woolacombe (after a couple of extremely expensive cocktails at the Woolacombe Bay Hotel!), seafood prepared by an ex-London chef with very high standards. Superb.
Mark and I are very sad to say we had to say goodbye to Princess Tassie last Friday, 29th December. She had been off her food over Christmas, and the vet found she had an inflamed gallbladder, and her liver was declining, making her jaundiced. Our vet attempted to treat her, but her blood test results deteriorated rather than improved, and he felt she wouldn’t recover. She was with us both, being stroked, loved (and bless her heart, still purring) as she went to sleep. Although we are heartbroken by her passing, we know we did the right thing for her.
As many of you know, Tassie has been our companion for almost 20 years, born in the Northern Beaches of Sydney in early 2004. She has lived a life unlike many felines, having adapted to camping and then caravanning and joining us on our travels.
Western Australian bush camp
She was flown across Australia to Perth in Western Australia and after exploring the south-west corner, accompanied us on a crossing of the Nullabor Desert as we made our way slowly back to Sydney. She has sunbathed on sand dunes on the South Australian coast, rolled in red-sands of the outback, and looked with confusion at the big red rock we call Uluru.
She once took herself off and sunbathed beside crocodile infested lagoon in the Northern Territory, nearly giving us kittens in the process, and protected us from a rather small dog in the rainforests of the Daintree in Far North Queensland by briskly slapping its cheeks several times. Noosa was a favourite Queensland location, and the loved watching boats from her daybed overlooking the Noosa River.
Daring those Northern Territory crocodiles to have a furry snack Rainforest wanderings in Far North Queensland
In Victoria, she chased lizards near Lakes Entrance, and reclined on a balcony in Melbourne, before taking over our friend’s house on the Mornington Peninsular.
South Australian dune sunbathing
At the grand old age of 18, she took her second flight, around to the UK with a stopover in Dubai, taking it all in her stride and exiting her crate at London Heathrow with a head rub and her ever present purr before heading to Somerset. In the UK, her travels were a little more limited, with a few motorhome trips in Somerset and Devon her sum travel total, with life more about sleeping than dog slapping.
Precious package arrived safe and sound, taking it all in her stride
Tassie has been the best companion we could have ever asked for. She has made us laugh almost every day, and our hearts are bursting with grief for her loss. She is so much more than just a pet. She has been a friend, a confidant, a hot-water-cat, a travel buddy, and has enabled us to see the world through different eyes.
In true Tassie style, as we left the vets, eyes wet with tears, a magnificent rainbow appeared, as though she was wielding her feline magic once again, sending us a message to let us know all was well, she has crossed the bridge and a new era is beginning. Rest in peace Princess T, you touched many, many lives, and will never be forgotten.
From now on all rainbows will make us think of Tassie
Not the end of year summary we had hoped to share, but hopefully when things are less raw, we will be able to. We trust you had a lovely Christmas and wish you all the best for 2024. We will be back soon.
Location: Rome and Loro Piceno, Italy, the Cotswolds, UK
Author: Mrs A
Just a 50 minute drive from home is Bristol Airport, and it was here we found ourselves in mid May, dropping our car off at the ‘Park and Fly’ section to board a flight to Italy. Oh so civilised, and very easy access. Within five hours, we had unpacked at our hotel, showered and changed and were sipping a refreshing Aperol at a street-side bar, people watching on the streets of Rome, Italy.
Cool temperatures and rain were there to welcome us in Rome
Here we spent a wonderful history-filled, chilled out 3 days (stepping out the 36 km/23 miles required to burn off all the pasta and pizza!), exploring the many sights within easy walking distance from our hotel.
We ambled out of our hotel on our first morning and literally stumbled across the Spanish Steps (designed by a Frenchman, but named for the Spanish Embassy which was in the square when they were built). Built in the 1720’s, they lead from the Square of Spain to the Egyptian obelisk and monastery at the top. Fine views across Rome from the top
Our first day, I had booked us a tour of the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill and the incredibly grand Colosseum. Our tour guide was fabulous – Rome born and bred and fluent in English, she knew the history inside out, and presented it in an exciting and vibrant way, as though it was her first visit too. She had our small group enthralled with her stories and extensive knowledge of the venue.
The sense of magnificent history was almost overwhelming
The Forum, which was, in Roman times, the commercial centre of the city, where markets were held, banking, trials, celebrations and political announcements made was a breathtaking area, with tall pillars and evidence of cobbled streets and squares. For nearly a thousand years, many of the structures remained buried under layers of silt from the frequently flooding River Tiber, and excavation commenced very slowly in 1803. In 1932, Mussolini decided to celebrate 10 years of the Fascist Party’s power by building a road through the area, which encouraged excavation to speed up substantially, though it seems the cataloging of findings was equally rushed. Nevertheless, this piece of propaganda means the fabulous ruins are available for us to see today.
Palatine Hill was where the royal palace was situated, and over the centuries many dignitaries have made their home on the location, with views nowadays stretching over the ruins.
Up on Palatine Hill overlooking the Forum
The Colosseum was our final stop, made famous by films such as Russel Crowe’s Gladiator (can you believe that is 23 years old now?!). From the poses for photos around the venue, it seems many of the visitors had recently watched this movie as homework! Our guide corrected the many inaccuracies in the film, including the Roman Emperor’s ‘thumbs up’ to indicate the gladiator can live vs the thumbs down meaning death. Apparently gladiators were all seen as prize sportspeople and death was not really an option.
Incredible being inside this incredible structure. It is the largest amphitheatre ever built, and is still the largest standing amphitheatre in the world, despite its age – finished in 80AD
The tour was so interesting, helping us bring parallels from Rome to so much in the UK, recognising much of the language we speak originates from the Latin spoken by our ancestors, as well as many of the roads we travel on following routes originally forged by Roman troops.
Our second day we did a tour on foot, crossing the River Tiber (now seriously protected from flooding with huge walls either side of it) and exploring around St Peter’s Square and the area around The Vatican. I debated going in as the queue was quite short, but Mr A was adamant he did not want to give Catholic priests any money and has little interest in the art and architecture within there. So we continued on our exploration without it.
St Peter’s Square looking towards the Vatican and the River Tiber on our tour across the riverCastel Sant’Angelo sits alongside the river – it was originally built as a mausoleum for the Roman Emperor, Hadrian, of Hadrian’s Wall, a Roman fortification in the north of EnglandThe Trevi Fountain – built of travertine (volcanic stone found around hot springs) and one of Rome’s oldest water sources. People toss coins over their shoulder into the water for luck – this yields about 3,000 Euro a day, which is collected by a charity and goes to help feed Rome’s poor
It was a fun city to visit, the food delicious and the people friendly, but soon it was time to leave Rome and head back to the airport to hire a car to drive across Italy to the eastern side, and our friends in La Marche. Sydney friends, Clive and Aisha, had been joined by UK friends, Mel and Barny, at a Bruce Springsteen concert in Ferrara, northern Italy, braving ankle deep mud to hear him sing. They report it was well worth it, though the two hour journey back to their car took the shine off somewhat.
The weather was cold and wet on our arrival at Mel and Barny’s Italian house in the village of Loro Piceno, and we all wrapped up warm in fleece jackets and rain coats, the views across the valley shrouded in low cloud, quite different from what we experienced when we visited last time, in June 2019.
Low cloud drifts through the valleyThrough rain and shine we had a great time!Looking across the valley just after sunset from the pool
We made the most of it though, with Mel and Barny doing us proud with incredible restaurants booked for lunch and dinners, with a combination of hillside villages and a visit to the coast too. The weather improved as the week progressed.
Mel and Barny’s house and holiday cottage (front right) with the Sibilini Mountains making a dramatic backdropA little bit of macro photography around Mel and Barny’s propertyA day out to the coast and another fine lunchA table with a view and a lot of delicious food
Mr A and I took a day trip to Assisi with Clive and Aisha, before dropping them to the airport for their flight to the next destination on their extensive holiday.
Another delicious lunch in AssisiExploring the castle and magnificent views (and cats) from the top of the town
On our last day in Loro Piceno, Mel and Barny took us to Sarnano, a stunning hilltop town. Mel and I left the boys sipping coffee and people watching, while we went off on a hike in the foothills of the Simbolini mountains, exploring a number of waterfalls. The heavy rainfall had made the usually peaceful babbling creek into a roaring torrent, and the waterfalls simply breathtaking. You would not have wanted to slip in!
Sarnano, where we commenced our hikeLoving being out amongst nature
Mel and Barny had once again given us an incredible time, showcasing the best of their region’s restaurants, views and walks, and giving us another taster of life in this stunning part of Italy. We are so grateful for their kindness and generosity.
We flew back home to a happy Tassie, having been well cared for by our Australian housesitters, Sam and Steve. We had just enough time to quickly wash our clothes, do a little gardening and repack bags to head off again to the Cotswolds to spend a few days in an AirBnB with friends in a village there!
On our way to meet them, we called in to visit a National Trust Roman Villa in Chedworth near Cirencester. Archaeologists were on site, literally peeling back the soil and grass to reveal near perfect mosaic tile floors, and we listened in on an interview for an upcoming TV programme which revealed the extent of what they were discovering.
We met up with Mark’s old school friends, Stuart and John, and Karen and Catriona, their other halves, in an AirBnB in the village of Bledington. For one day only, Andrew, the other member of the schoolboy foursome, drove up to join in the fun and frivolity.
We had left hot sunshine in Somerset, so were somewhat unprepared for the chilly north wind and heavy cloud that greeted us. The summer dresses didn’t get much of an airing, and we even lit the log fire in the evenings! We did some great walks, and the village pub was welcomed for the odd drink or two.
Yes, even another surprise celebration of my 50th! Buttercups were the order of the day in the meadows we walked across.Sunshine finally, on our last afternoon
It was a fun three nights away, and we all hugged our farewells with promises to catch up again soon. Mark and I drove back to Somerset, and by 1pm were welcoming our next guests into our home.
Phil and Libby are friends from Australia who we originally met while travelling in our caravan. We were very excited to host them at home and give them a brief taster of our area, and took them up onto the Quantock Hills for a morning walk, with lunch at picturesque café, The Rocking Horse, and dinner at our local pub. We squeezed a lot into their two nights, before dropping them off at the station to continue their travels in London.
We had two nights just us, before the next visitors from down under arrived, my dad, Richard and his wife, Sue, over in the UK for a few weeks from New Zealand, celebrating dad’s 80th. We started off by experimenting with the rotisserie feature on our new BBQ – it all went well and nobody got food poisoning – hurrah!
My brother, Alex, had also come down to Somerset to spend some time with dad, and had booked a cottage on a nearby farm to stay with his two dogs. Alex loves walking, so we left dad and Sue having a lie in and took Alex, Scout and Raffles on one of our favourite circuit walks in the Blackdown Hills.
The fields look quite special at this time of yearA beautiful summer’s day – the sunshine has well and truly arrived!
Dad and Sue joined us for lunch and a drink at our local pub, before a short walk along the River Tone.
We were very fortunate to be invited to climb the tower of St Giles’ Church, at the invitation of one of Bradford on Tone’s octogenarian residents, Dave Richards. The church dates from the 13th century, with a narrow spiral staircase taking us up the bell tower. We stopped briefly a the bellringer’s room, where the ancient church clock’s cogs and wheels click and turn before chiming each quarter hour and hour between 7am and 10pm.
At the top of the tower we were rewarded with incredible views across the village and surrounding countryside, as well as a unique view of our home.
As always, it was great fun to have them around, and time went too quickly – before we knew it they were heading off to their next visit in north London.
We had a few days to regroup, before our next trip where I am writing from today – in Milan, Italy. I have been invited here to the European Laryngology Society Conference to present the airway stenosis patient experience. My presentation is today, and the next update will come from Mr A. I bet you can’t wait!
Location: Bradford-on-Tone, Somerset, Vienna, Austria and London, UK
The end of February saw a frenzy of activity as painting, electrics and flooring were all coordinated to complete our newest room of the house, our home bar! When we bought the house, this room had been accessed only via the garage, and was used as an office. We have moved the office to a new space and wondered what we would do with it.
A few inspired thoughts, and the access point to the room was moved to near the kitchen, the window removed and replaced with bi-fold doors, the strip lighting, shelves and desks extracted (reused in the garage and loft)…and voila, Bad Cat’s Bar was born!
We immediately hosted an evening with drinks and nibbles for a few neighbours and friends who had been a part of the team to help create it.
The newest bar in the village!
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The first of March saw us heading off to London for the night in advance of our flight to Vienna, Austria. We found a superb Thai restaurant in the basement of a pub, run by a Thai family, very unexpected, and incredibly delicious. Duck pancakes, soft-shell crab and more…it beat us!
The following day we headed off to Heathrow Airport and boarded our flight to Austria. It all went without a hitch and soon we were checking into our hotel. I had been invited to the city as a guest of doctors at Vienna University who were hosting an event for thoracic, ENT and respiratory physicians. The medical fraternity is only recently dipping its toe into representing the voice of patients, and given my experience with this disease and involvement with so many of the doctors with research, I am fortunate to have been invited in that role.
It was a fabulous conference – while it was mostly scientific in its nature, with little I could take back and present to patients, it was a superb opportunity to network with doctors and spread the word about offering support to their patients. My presentation went well on Friday, and I was lucky it was just before the lunch break, so I had a lot of opportunity to chat to interested people afterwards. Many business cards were exchanged, and promises of more research to be conducted into airway stenosis soon. I look forward to being a part of those conversations.
Meeting up with old friends from the USA, Dr Alexander Gelbard (Vanderbilt University) and Dr Alexander Hillel (Johns Hopkins Medicine) – yes they make those doctors tall in the US!
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Soon it was Friday night, and the conference was over for me. I returned back to the hotel to freshen up ready for dinner and cocktails, joining our friends and neighbours from Bradford-on-Tone, Jim and Lucy. They had flown out to join us for the weekend and were ready waiting with Mr A in the bar with a glass of crisp fresh Grüner Veltliner.
We had a fun night out, visiting one of Vienna’s funkiest bars, The Krypt, for cocktails and laughs until the adrenaline crash appeared around midnight and we had to go home!
A very cool bar, 21 metres underground, a mass of marble, stone and nooks and crannies – we liked it!
Mr A had taken care of the weekend’s planning, as it was all part of my birthday present. How convenient that we were in Vienna?! So Saturday morning began with a walking tour around Vienna’s most picturesque buildings. If you have not been to Vienna, then you will not realise that every single building in the city is attractive, right down to the one that houses McDonald’s!
Jim, Lucy and Mr A stroll though an ornate arcadeOne of many embellished ceilings – no peeling paint hereAnd yes, this is the building that houses Vienna’s McDonald’s Sisi Museum Hofburg Wien – on this glorious spring morning, we did not go in, simply admired the grandeur of the surroundingsMarble staircases encased in glass with never ending ostentatious archwaysIs it a bird? Is it a plane?… I honestly cannot recall, but it was really interesting!
Mr A’s walking tour took us across town, allowing us to admire many stunning buildings on our way to our lunch location, the Naschmarkt. This colourful location is home to Vienna’s food market, and a street full of every cuisine you could imagine, as well as fresh produce ranging from tanks of olive oil and balsamic vinegar to crispy nuts and cakes of every flavour.
Yum! A food lover’s dream come true!
We found ourselves a sunny corner on a table outside a Turkish restaurant, and settled in for the long haul.
Are we getting suntans in spring?!
The afternoon and evening continued in a similar vein, with superb scenery and delicious food. Mr A had excelled himself in his booking of the best places, with Saturday night a fabulous 6 course Italian degustation in a tiny restaurant with just 5 tables and service like we were dining at a friend’s house.
Fine dining from start to finish, including a dairy-free dessert for me! Wow!
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Sunday morning was my birthday-with-a-zero, and Mr A proposed we actually go for breakfast for a change. I did wonder why, given I don’t really eat breakfast…and all became clear when the staff brought out a bottle of bubbles and everyone sang to me! What a surprise!
Cheers! Some of us decided to water it down with orange juice in recognition of the early hour!
Our next event of the morning was a short walk away, the the Spanish Riding School. It is something I had always wanted to see in person, the incredible dancing horses always included as part of the pomp and ceremony in royal events of my childhood.
No photos allowed of the Lipizzaner horses, but I managed a snap of the magnificent venue before they started. We had great seats!
It is an Austrian institution dedicated to the preservation of classical dressage and the training of Lipizzaner horse (cross breed between Iberian and Arabian horses) – even the ornate venue dates back to the early 1700’s. We sat enthralled as immaculate horses led by their trainers walked on the spot, delicately danced their way around the stadium and defied gravity to jump and clap their hooves together mid air. Just blew us away! Bucket list item ticked off!
A cup of tea and apple strudel followed for the dairy-eaters, a vegan cake for me, and an afternoon at the art gallery.
Chocolate cherry cake – so rich it lasted me three days!
For our final evening in Vienna, Mr A had booked us a table at a Japanese restaurant. Boasting an amazing and well deserved reputation, we were treated to a huge menu of options, ranging from the more unusual sea urchin through to more traditional Katsu dishes. It was a first for Jim and Lucy, cuisine wise, and for us a long time since we had anything this good. A great birthday dinner choice!
Dinner is a winner!
We concluded our time in Vienna with drinks in our hotel bar, a night-cap to finalise our time in this beautiful city. We had such a good time with Jim and Lucy, barely pausing for breath between laughs, it was a superb birthday.
The motley crew the barman saw!
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Returning back down to earth in the UK we were treated to a cold snap, and once again our garden and countryside was transformed into a magical fairyland by the snow! It was very short lived, with the following day turning out with sunshine and temperatures in the teens, quickly melting any last signs.
Snow!And just like that it’s all gone again!
And so here was I thinking all the birthday malarkey was all done and dusted, when at 1pm the following Friday the doorbell rings. I opened the door, expecting yet another piece of biking or outdoor gear for Mr A to have been delivered, and lo and behold, there’s my sister, Helen!
Surprise!!! Yes it certainly was!
I settled in to a weekend of sister-time, a Friday night movie, brunch at Sheppy’s and a stroll around our village in the rain…the stroll that seemed to never end. In fact I started to think Helen hadn’t had enough sleep as she made me head back to the church for a third time in the drizzle…
Finally we got home to find why she had been delaying me, as my mum strolled down the stairs with a beaming smile on her face! A huge shock, given mum had not until this point made it to our new home as she was busy being carer to her poorly husband.
The excitement did not end then, with the doorbell constantly ringing, and in walking my cousin Karen and husband Iain, cousin Ian and wife Caroline, brother Alex, friends over from Devon, Karen and Dan, and Jim and Lucy arrived to join in the fun too!
Surprise after surprise as guests arrived
Mr A had organised catering from a local business, Conrad’s Kitchen – a veritable seafood feast, with fresh crab, lobster, languistine, king prawns, cold meats, salad, potatoes, bread and more. Just incredible. Friend Karen, who not only works full time for the NHS and is mum to pre-teen twin boys baked two delicous cakes! Amazing!
We finished off the weekend by dusting ourselves off post a huge egg and bacon brunch and heading off to the river for a walk to blow the cobwebs away. A superb weekend – well done to Mr A for all his hard work and to all our friends and relatives for keeping such a big secret!
Helen, cousin Karen and Jenny
A week’s worth of sheet and towel washing was worth all the fun and laughter (I seem to recall a TikTok clip being made at one stage!!) and awesome memories made.
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Life returned somewhat to ‘normal’ after that, with gardening and household jobs, plus a trip up to London for more injections in to my airway. After last year’s chaos of never ending operations, it seems (‘touch-wood’) that my airway is finally stabilising and the injections are working again! Thank goodness – an operation every other month just was not sustainable. Fingers are thoroughly crossed that this trend continues – 6 weeks of easy breathing so far…
I walked to my appointment the long way – through Little Italy and via the Portobello Road Market
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March winds and April showers bring forth May flowers, according to a proverb from the 1800s, so we hope that is true, as the end of March has been very wet and windy. Fortunately for us we can be flexible with our schedule, so as soon as the sun shines we get out and about. We did a stunning 36km return cycle along the Taunton Canal, spotting a vibrant little kingfisher shooting up and down the waterway and a cute female roe deer bounding through the fields.
All this and more on our doorstep – we love Somerset!
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With a small inheritance from my grandma we purchased a Cider Gum in her memory – a Tasmanian eucalyptus tree. We plan to keep it from growing ‘too big’ but enough to hide the view of some of the nearby houses, the scented leaves bringing back great memories of the Australian bush, while the name seeming to be fitting with our new home in cider-country!
We finished the month by getting awnings installed over our big glass windows – enough to give us some shade from the hot southern sun, while not blocking the view from inside. We shall probably never see the sun again! They are also able to be used in light rain, therefore giving us a dry outdoor space for summer barbecues. Lots of options ahead.
Unwrapping the tree, and Mr A enjoying the first beer under the new awning in the rain
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I’m going to finish off with a little plea for help.
I have been invited to represent airway stenosis patients at the European Laryngological Society’s 14th Congress in Milan, Italy in June. This is an incredible opportunity, and I jumped at the chance and accepted the invitation.
Unfortunately, despite pleading with them, they have a policy of not sponsoring admission, travel costs or accommodation, even for volunteer patients!
I’ve attempted to find corporate sponsorship too, but as I am not a registered charity, have hit dead ends there too.
So I am now trying to raise money for…
£660 (750 Euro): Entry to congress – 3 days – I plan to attend all sessions relevant to airway stenosis and take notes where I believe patients can learn something useful £100 (110 Euro): Congress dinner – a great networking opportunity, and something I would pay for myself £240: Return flights from Bristol Airport to Milan £210: Parking at Bristol Airport £900: Accommodation – estimating it will cost about £225 a night based on the Congress website’s recommended hotels near the venue – if it is more I will cover the additional cost
Total: £2010 (excluding the dinner) – rounded down to £2,000.
Of course, there will be additional expenses including taxis, petrol, food and so on, but I will cover those costs myself.
I hate asking for money as I know everyone is stretched and gives so much to other causes, but I do hope you can spare a little. Even a small donation will help add up to the total amount. If you can help at all, the link is to be found here: Catherine Anderson GoFundMe
It has been more than 24 years since either Mark or I spent a December on this side of the world, and bizarrely it was something we were rather looking forward to. All the Christmases in Australia, while fun, hot and sunny and usually spent with friends or travelling and camping, never felt quite like Christmas to us.
For me in particular, Christmas means wrapping up warm, dark mornings and evenings, the sight of car lights reflecting on dark wet roads, and the festival of light provided by street and shop window decorations, brightening the time of year. The UK delivered that in spades, and even bah-humbug Mark who usually lacks enthusiasm about this time of year got into the spirit of things and started having fun!
Christmas jumpers are de rigueur here!
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Not long after returning from Seville, we decided to buy our Christmas tree, in anticipation of guests coming to stay on the first weekend in December. We thought it best to support a local business, and drove out to the Christmas Tree Farm. Neither of us had ever done anything like this before, arriving to a huge barn full of trees of all shapes and sizes. How to choose? First of all it was the height. We headed to the 6-7 (180-215cmish) feet section, as they looked good, and both settled on the first one we spotted. We were told jokingly by one of the workers that was not allowed, so we wandered around looking at other trees for another 10 minutes, and returned back to it!
Hunting for our first real Christmas tree!
We also had to pick up decorations, as we had donated all of ours to our next door neighbours in Curl Curl, Australia before we left. I did have a pang of sadness that we hadn’t rescued a few special pieces, but it’s all too late now. So it was off into the giant Christmas shop we went. I don’t think we have ever been so ready for the silly season!
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Our friends from Devon came over for the weekend, a cold and grey one, brightened by our sparkly new tree. We spent our time eating and drinking with a little shopping for gifts in Taunton and Christmas Fairs in local villages. The boys are mad football fans, so they got a couple of early gifts – a World Cup ball each – they were very pleased!
Karen and Dan, with their boys Sonny and Oliver and a few cuddly toys!
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A couple of days later our friends Mel and Barny travelled over to join is for a visit from their home in Essex. After an evening of food, laughs and gin tasting, we took them down to the coast and the village of East Quantoxhead for a walk and to clear out the cobwebs. It was a spectacular day, and really showcased this part of the country.
The rock formations on this coast are gorgeousLong shadows cast by the low sun as we look along the coast towards Minehead
A superb dinner at a new-to-us restaurant in Taunton, Augustus, concluded their visit.
Replète
Mr A joined them on their return train journey to London, taking himself up to Milton Keynes to spend a few days with his grandchildren, given we’re not seeing them during their Christmas school holidays. He had a great time also catching up with his daughters and doing a few walks and a curry night (of course!).
Mr A (complete with ear-flaps), Hayley and Zoe on a frosty morning
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While Mr A was away, something exciting happened in Somerset – it snowed! I was like a five year old version of myself, running from window to window, videoing the big fat snowflakes falling down, and rushing out with my camera to capture the spectacle throughout the village before it inevitably melted. Another big tick in the Christmassy box!
Just a dusting, but still looking pretty« One is not impressed….where are MY warm boots? »The lane outside our house is a little slipperyThe centre of the village looking like a Christmas cardGarden views
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Our village, Bradford-on-Tone, is famous for its ‘Bradford Sparkle’ spectacle, which lit up on the 10th December. Everyone in the village comes out to stroll around the streets, admiring peoples’ lights, and there were some incredible efforts…and no, not by us. Fortunately we had been given a heads up that our house was a bit far out of the village (3 minutes walk from the village square), and people wouldn’t get as far as us. Maybe one year we will be set up enough to participate. Of course the grand finale was a visit to a very crowded pub to enjoy a mulled wine by the fire.
‘Bradford Sparkle’
Several of the grand houses and gardens in the UK are illuminated at night at this time of year and open to visitors, and our nearest one was Hestercombe House, close to where we initially were living last February and March. We’d never been in the gardens, and it was great to stroll around the lakes, temples and arbors with a mug of mulled wine, and our neighbours, Lucy and Jim.
Hestercombe House and Gardens
We concluded with Christmas reef making at the pub – very festive!
Everyone’s a winner!
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The dark days are taking some getting used to, with ‘sunrise’ currently about 8.15am and sunset about 4.15pm – some days it barely feels we are out of our pajamas! Now we’re past the winter solstice days are slowly getting slightly longer. We’re learning that mornings are best if we want to head out hiking, as afternoons often feel like one long dusk, leading to sunset!
You’ve probably heard about the madness of all the strikes in the UK the past few months. We have mostly been impacted by the railways and postal workers, with our sympathy with the rail workers now dwindling away as yet another event has to be cancelled.
Fortunately the week before Christmas the trains were running smoothly, as I had to go to London for my fourth operation of the year. I went up a day early and met up with my friend Jacky for a visit to the Royal Academy of Art, lunch and a little furniture shopping. It felt lovely and festive in London, but I felt for all the shops and restaurants which have suffered due to the train strikes.
Art, lights and hospital gowns
My operation went as planned, and I was able to leave with Mark early afternoon on the 22nd December and be home in Somerset for a sleep in bed before the sun set. Perfect!
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Thankfully, due to the proximity of my operation to Christmas, we had planned a quiet few days, and roasted a chicken and vegetables for just the two of us on the day, and I felt well enough to join Mark up on the Quantock Hills for a hike on Boxing Day.
A picnic of Christmas Day leftovers overlooking the coastMagical light up on the Quantocks
It was a stunning morning, and we were delighted to see a huge herd of Roe Deer galloping across the hills, usually a rarity, and if we are lucky just two or three, not more than 30. Our delight soon turned to dismay, as on our return walk we saw a pack of hunt dogs, barking and snarling in the back of a truck, and the Boxing Day hunters on horseback getting ready for a chase across the hills. Apparently this is a tradition that goes back more than 500 years, but it doesn’t mean I’m ok with it. We left before we encountered any blood and guts.
Run, deer, run!
On the 29th we picked up my sister, Helen from Taunton station for a few days of R&R. Of course we all got over excited as usual, and so the following morning delivered hangovers – when will we learn?
It was on this morning that we learned that our grandma, Jean Marshall, had passed away in her sleep – 100 years and 7 months old. We hope she is reunited with granddad 💔 and we will be celebrating her life with family later this month.
Helen and I had lots of hugs and tears, and many calls with our mum. We toasted her life and our memories at a lunch at our favourite Italian, Villa Verde.
New friends Bogdan and Alex joined Helen, Mark and I for an Italian feast
New year’s eve was soon upon us, and after a morning ambling around the shops in Taunton it was back to get dressed and ready to see in the new year. Our neighbours, Jim and Lucy joined us for Prosecco, before we all wandered down the road to our local pub for dinner, live music, wine and laughter.
Auld Lang Syne in the village square and a few unexpected guests in the pub on New Year’s Eve
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And so a new year began. We started as we mean to go on, with a New Year’s Day hike to Culmstock Beacon with Helen before we dropped her at her train home, and on the public-holiday Monday, off on a circuit walk concluding with bacon butties with a large group of friends from the village.
No rain for our circuit walk thankfullyA gloriously sunny morning for our group hike to Angersleigh VillageTea and bacon awaits us
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We’re already booking flights for various trips to Austria and Italy, and are dreaming up ideas of places to visit in Truffy (our motorhome), who has been rather under utilised in the past few months – his last trip was back in May!
I bought Mark a stunning book for Christmas about ancient Britain, jam packed full of photography and writing from David Abram, an aerial photographer and historian I follow on Instagram (@davidrabram). That is already inspiring several destination ideas.
Exciting times ahead! Sending everyone all the best wishes for 2023 – may it bring health and happiness, and many adventures!
