Hiking – When the Cat's Away…

March 29, 2026

Hiking Trails and Unexpected Moments in Madeira

Author: Mr A Date: March 2026

Location: Eventually Madeira, Portugal

Day 0

Well, what a kerfuddle – that’s a technical term for standing at the airport after a 3 a.m. alarm, staring at the departures board, and instead of a gate number, seeing a single word: CANCELLED.

We were due to head to the island of Madeira for seven nights of hiking and topping up our vitamin D reserves after a long wet winter. Actually, we’d probably need to bathe in a tub of it to restore what we lacked, but no – the gods of travel had other plans.

After 27 years of taking flights together – and that means Catherine has spent more of her life with me than without – this was our first flight ever to be cancelled. Not too shabby, if you think about the average.

We rebooked for the next available flight, two days later. The day after that, every flight was cancelled again. Apparently, Madeira Airport is “weather sensitive,” according to Google. That’s now a firm addition to my growing list of things to avoid in a holiday destination.

With time to kill back home – which is never good – I went down the rabbit hole with my mate ChatGPT, asking questions like: “Why is Madeira Airport so weather sensitive?” The short answer: it’s considered one of the trickiest airports in the world for takeoffs and landings. Rapid changes in wind strength and direction, cliffs, and the cold Atlantic make for a hair-raising combination. The airport even has a grim history – over 200 deaths have occurred under such conditions.

Definitely en route to the Sahara desert

Day 1

So you can imagine where my over-anxious mind went as I climbed the steps for our Wednesday flight. I’ve never paid so much attention to the safety broadcast—or the captain’s tone – before lining up for final approach. Everything seemed fine…so it must have been alarming to the couple in the seats next to me when I adopted a brace position and muttered a quiet prayer. Not out loud, mind you – but my white-knuckled grip on the seat in front probably gave me away.

Trying to lighten the mood, I asked, “Flown into here before?”
They shook their heads, glancing nervously out the window at the cliffs looming and the white-capped waves below, which seemed intent on grabbing the landing gear. I muttered under my breath, “I’ll tell you after we land…if I still can.”

I tried to focus on the fact that after 131 people died in 1977 when a plane overran the runway and ended up in the sea, the runway was extended over the water. Good call. Very important call.

We landed smoothly. Sheepishly, I turned away and found a lot to do repacking my bag before hurrying off the plane. I noticed the couple in the immigration queue glance at me before moving to another line – probably expecting trouble.

Our host had arranged a transfer, and after five minutes driving through Madeira’s evening traffic, I was profoundly grateful we’d cancelled our car rental. Tiny, narrow roads, speeds that could be mistaken for F1: The Movie – it was an excellent decision. Our driver even dropped us at a supermarket on the way, then took us to the Old Town for a late dinner.

Yes, we’d checked the forecasts, and yes, it promised to be “fresh,” especially in the evenings. But I suspect the Madeira tourist board has some sort of deal with the meteorological authority: no bad news allowed. I was so cold I might have shivered for two people.

Mrs A told me we were not allowed to wear coats during dinner…but it was tempting!

Anyway, we headed back to the apartment – up four flights of stairs – because when Catherine pushed the lift button, nothing happened. Since then, we’ve discovered the lift doesn’t like her dinky little thumb. Works perfectly for me, of course. Had to bite my tongue to avoid smirking.

Day 2

The next day was Catherine’s birthday. Cards and presents produced, we set off for a little morning walk followed by brunch. One of the drawcards for us in choosing Madeira was the 2,000 km of hiking trails – most built alongside the levadas, the irrigation channels designed to bring water from the rainy north to the drier, more populous south.

Incredible purfume from the blossoming blackthorn

A lowly goat attempts to clear an overgrown garden

Well, we were in the south, and it promptly started raining. Some Atlantic storms had stuck around, bringing unusually unsettled – and cold – weather to the region. We headed back to a little tea house I had booked and while there spent a lovely couple of hours gazing out at the view. Well…until it wasn’t there, obscured by rain clouds, only for the sun to return five minutes later. Then rain. Then sun. If you don’t like the weather in Madeira, just wait five minutes.

Moved seats due to the rain, we enjoy a glass of not-too-sweet Madeira wine with a slice of cake

The rest of the day was spent exploring the Botanical Gardens – Mrs. A’s choice – followed by a ride on a gondola. Some strong gusts made it slightly more “interesting” than our flight landing. Life, as ever, keeps you guessing.

Azaelias remind Mrs A of her grandparents

On our rather hairy cable car ride up to the villate of Monte

Waterfalls and footpaths wind their way below us – I guess for the emergency services to treck along when they rescue us from the fallen cabin…gulp…

…snigger…

Monte – you may have heard about the 10-15 minute, thrilling downhill ride to Funchal in traditional wicker baskets, a tradition since the 19th century? This is where they leave from…’unfortunately’ not operational at the moment

Church of Our Lady of the Mount – this was built in the 1700s on the site of an original church which was destroyed by an earthquake

Dinner that night was pretty good, and the conversation with the birthday girl even better. I’d been messaging our apartment host, who had been very helpful with suggestions. Early on, I’d wondered if I was actually talking to a bot via Booking.com; the communication style seemed…off. Then we switched to WhatsApp and the messages came thick and fast: “Try this, try that,” all with heaps of gushing flattery. I showed one to Catherine and she said, “ChatGPT.”

Of course – that hadn’t clicked for me. Between courses, I forwarded some of the messages to ChatGPT. Verdict: yes, AI style, a few giveaways.

Did it make the messages any less helpful? Absolutely not. Did we feel a little cheated? Yes. It’s a complex subject, and one we’re all going to have to get our heads around sooner or later.

Day 3

What would a trip to an island be without a boat trip? Dolphins and whales apparently abound in these clean waters, so I booked one. The brochure promised “agile” and “fast” – words that sounded fun at the time. What I hadn’t appreciated when we rocked up to the marina and were shown the boat was that it bore a striking resemblance to an assault craft. No G&Ts on the sun deck for this wild ride!

We did tick the dolphin box, though we also ticked the soaked-through-to-our-underpants box – a detail that had somehow escaped the marketing spiel.

Sustenance of the liquid variety was required, so we attempted what the website called a wine tasting. The lady serving the bottles was succinct: “Medium dry” and two words that sounded vaguely like variations on “sweet”. Instruction brief, but we survived, and the wine was passable fuel for our soggy spirits.

Dinner that evening was an extravaganza. We were invited to the chef’s table—a countertop wrapping around the bustling kitchen – and the food was superb. The sommelier suggested a wine on the pricier side, and it paired perfectly with our choices.

We had a two-hour window for dinner, and it quickly became clear that the over-enthusiastic serving staff had a very different interpretation of “window.” Food arrived faster than at McDonald’s, and we literally had to tell them to pause and hold the mains while we were still finishing our entrées. Despite the pace, the experience was brilliant, and a second birthday dessert for Mrs. A arrived for us to share – a sweet, celebratory end to the day.

Day 4

Marcos – the driver who had collected us from the airport – had agreed, for a price, to pick us up and give us a tour of the island for the day.

At 9 a.m. sharp, we were climbing into his car and turning inland, winding up into the hills toward our first destination: Pico do Arieiro, the third highest peak. We soon left behind the broken sunshine and 15 °C, watching as the temperature gauge plummeted to 0 and below. Not far from the top, we passed a police car stopping tourists from driving further – but Marcos flashed a card, granting us permission to continue.

Icicles abound in the below freezing temperatures

Apparently this is a fabulous view behind us

Yes, that ice is dripping sideways – testament to the freezing winds up here

We reached the summit, passing many cold-looking hikers plodding up the road. Fog and clouds had joined forces with an icy wind and a drizzle for good measure. We somewhat reluctantly stepped out of the warm car, donned several layers, and went for a look around. We climbed up to the lookout for views of…well, not much at all. Everything was frozen—leaves and blades of grass were lined with horizontal icicles, and even the barbed wire fencing around the miliary radar station looked surreally beautiful, covered in ice.

Barbed wire looking more like icing surrounds the military radar station

We wandered among the brave – or perhaps foolish – people starting hikes from the peak. Literally nothing could be seen more than a few metres in front of you. Not long after, we jumped back into the car and continued our tour.

The guide books say ‘Pico do Arieiro is Madeira’s third-highest peak, standing at 1,818 metres, renowned for its spectacular sunrise views, accessible car-friendly summit, and as the starting point for the dramatic PR1 hike to Pico Ruivo. It offers panoramic mountain views above the clouds…’ Not today it doesnt!

Our next stop was Levada dos Balcões, lower down and a toasty six degrees Celsius. We wrapped up warmly and started walking. Most of the trail wound through moss- and lichen-draped forest, with a waterfall and stream threading through. Madeira chaffinches were everywhere – clearly used to humans and happy to pose for photographs. The lookout at the end of the walk was fabulous, rewarding us with views across the valley.

You can see there is very little flat land in Madeira

Madiera Chaffinches sport more olive green than their northern European counterparts

Ferns and a babbling stream – a brief moment between coach parties

Following a lavada through a rock cutting

We stopped there for ten or so minutes, before returning to Marcos. Our timing was perfect – while we weren’t the only people at the lookout, on our return we walked against a literal tide of coach tourists, each stopping to take 50 photos of the same scene, constantly blocking our way. Ah, the downside of digital photography!

Onwards we went, continuing our descent toward the north coast of Madeira, with the temperature gradually rising. Marcos proved a great guide, sharing tales of locals who never leave these valleys and survive solely on what they produce themselves. Amazon hasn’t reached these parts yet, but apparently it’s on the horizon.

We drove west as far as Santana where we lunched before following the coast towards the east, stopping at scenic viewpoints as we went.

Stopping on the winding roads to admire the coastline, dotted with teracotta roofs

Miradouro de Santo António – a viewpoint looking eastwards – look carefully and you will see a farm making use of the rare flat land on the shoreline to grow produce. They have a permanent waterfall which provides them with fresh water.

Miradouro de Santo António – you can see the wires from cable car behind us, used to bring produce up from the little farm on the shore (see above photo)

Miradouro da Ponta do Rosto – this is where volcanic iron-rich soils have oxidized to create dramatic, red cliffs and sea stacks, offering a vibrant contrast to the island’s typical dark basaltic rocks and blue ocean water.

Whoo that north-easterly wind was bitey – here’s Marcos!

The statue of Christ looks out to sea, a welcoming sight to ships and planes alike

Day 5

Our final day started bright and sunny—not quite shorts weather, but hopefully delivering some of that elusive vitamin D we’d been chasing. We set off on foot from our apartment, holding our breath as huge buses, speeding cars, and scooters thundered past on narrow streets with no pavements.

At the coast, we found the walking path and headed west. Cafés and restaurants were setting up for lunch, and soon we became the first customers at a Japanese place. An outside table overlooking the sea was ours, and what a treat: for €23 a head, we had a two-course Japanese meal with a large glass of very tasty dry house wine. Full and happy, we continued our walk—slightly more challenging after lunch, but easy to navigate as long as we kept the sea on our left.

No wind! And a delicious seafood feast for lunch

We were serenaded by the beautiful song of the Blackcaps as we followed the coastline

We finished at the next village, Porto de Câmara de Lobos. Almost our accommodation choice, it’s described as charming and historically significant – Winston Churchill visited in 1950 and painted here. And yes, it was pretty. But our rose-tinted glasses blurred somewhat when a drunk woman, slurring something about Ronaldo and kicking a football, stumbled in front of us asking for money. All towns have their seedy side, it seems, and we’d found this one. Waiting for our Uber brought a few more drunk and drugged local characters into view. Not quite the idyllic farewell impression of Madeira we’d hoped for.

Porto de Câmara de Lobos approaching in the distance

Our final night’s dinner was somewhat spontaneous. Google led us to a Thai restaurant with fabulous reviews and promising “open” signage. They didn’t answer the phone, so we took a punt and a taxi – only to find it had long since closed. A quick online search led us to an Indian restaurant with recent glowing reviews. Brilliant food, fun atmosphere, and enough dry ice theatrics to make you smile at their effort.

Yes, Madeira was not quite what we expected. But it added a real sense of adventure and served up some fabulous meals along the way. I don’t think we’ll be back, but we’re glad we gave it a go!

March 25, 2026March 25, 2026

September 2025 – Into the land of vultures – a road trip through northern Spain (part 2)

Author: Mrs A

Location: Morillo de Tou, Alquezar, Getario, Spai

Leaving Aínsa, we travelled a short distance to the tiny, picturesque village of Morillo de Tou. It felt almost like a film set – stone houses, flower boxes, and a quiet square warmed by the morning sun. We watched in delight as a lady wandered through the plaza accompanied by her collie dog, two cats and no fewer than seven kittens padding along behind her like a fluffy procession.

We strolled up to the main church hoping to climb the tower for yet more sweeping views. Sadly it was closed on this occasion, but we happily explored the cobbled lanes instead.

The kittens reappeared to inspect us — curious but cautious — lingering just out of reach while studying us intently. It was one of those small, unscripted travel moments that stays with you long after the grand vistas fade.

Overcoming Spanish opening times – we picnic by the side of the road – ah the glamour of it all!

16-18 September – Alquézar

An hour later we were back in the car, heading towards Alquézar.

Our hotel was right in the heart of the walled village, which made for a rather hairy arrival. The Land Rover suddenly felt enormous as we navigated impossibly narrow streets, inching between ancient stone walls. Thankfully, Mr A’s many years of reversing caravans and motorhomes paid off; with impressive precision he coaxed it into a space that looked several sizes too small. We made sure to extract everything we needed before closing the doors – reopening them would have required architectural alterations!

Our room was glorious – a balcony overlooking the village below, with the cobbled streets just outside inviting exploration. After an hour reading in the warm afternoon light, we headed out to wander.

The magnificent view from our room (please ignore Mr A at the end!)

That evening we returned to a low-key bar-restaurant we had spotted with an outdoor terrace perched above the Rio Vero gorge. As we dined, we watched the sandstone walls shift from golden yellow to soft salmon pink before slowly dissolving into dusk. It was utterly mesmerising.

An extremely friendly neighbourhood cat calls by in the hope of snacks – he gets strokes instead

We struck up a cheerful conversation with two women visiting from Quebec. They laughed about how the French in France sometimes “pretend not to understand” their Canadian French. Their English was more than good enough for shared humour, and before long we were toasting with shots – eventually the last guests standing, save for the patient staff.

The following morning, thankfully hangover-free, we were ready to explore the gorge itself. Entry is ticketed and one-way, so we bought our passes and began the steep descent into the dramatic landscape below, eager to see what awaited us around the next bend.

From the medieval streets in the village of Alquézar, the famous Pasarelas del Vero drops dramatically into the Vero River canyon below via many rocky steps. “Pasarelas” loosely translates as walkways – though “catwalks” feels more accurate at times – narrow metal platforms bolted directly into the cliff face above the rushing water.

We descend 180 metres down the Barranco de la Fuente ravine

The trail follows the Vero River as it tumbles through waterfalls and pools, carving its way through towering limestone walls. Along the route you pass the old hydro-electric plant, built in the early 1900s to bring electricity to the village — a remarkable feat of engineering in such a dramatic landscape.

In places there is a rocky hiking path. In others, there is nothing but a thin metal walkway clinging to the rock, suspended some 10–20 metres above the water. The canyon walls close in tightly, and the sound of the river echoes upwards.

You can see how high the water reaches in wetter times- note how the pathway follows the cliffs

When the exposure became a little too “character-building,” Mr A sensibly peeled off along an inland alternative to avoid aggravating his vertigo. I continued carefully along the cliff edge, edging my way towards a magnificent lookout point that opened up to sweeping views of the gorge towards the village.

The climb back up was more breathless than I would have liked – my airway clearly narrowing again – and I took it slowly before reuniting with him on a welcome shady bench.

Magnificent view of Alquezar from down in the gorge- note how the stone blends into the landscape – you literally don’t notice it at first

High above us, vultures circled lazily on the thermals. We chose to believe they were simply enjoying the updrafts rather than assessing us as potential easy pickings.

It was a spectacular hike – dramatic, exposed, exhilarating – and certainly not one we’ll forget in a hurry. The final walk took us through almond and olive groves and lush orchards, back to the Church of San Miguel.

After freshening up we took another stroll around the village, soaking up the history and relishing the cooler temperatures in the shade. Many of the buildings seem to have simply emerged from the limestone rock, with it incorporated into walls and doorways.

18-21 September – Getaria, Basque Country

Leaving Alquézar required a few careful manoeuvres to extract the car from the tiny medieval streets, but Mr A rose to the challenge with characteristic calm – assisted, of course, by some enthusiastic co-piloting. Before long we were heading north-west across country towards the coast and Basque Country.

Hoping nobody comes the other way over this bridge!

Known locally as Euskadi, the Basque Country is a fascinating autonomous community with a language that predates most other European languages. Linguists have studied Euskara for decades, intrigued by its mysterious origins and lack of clear links to neighbouring language families.

Our destination was the charming fishing town of Getaria, where we were staying on a farm surrounded by vineyards rolling down towards the sea.

A friendly welcome at our farmhouse door

A fine view with sea glimpses from our balcony

Getaria is renowned for several things including exceptional seafood, the local dry white wine (Txakoli de Getaria) and excellent tapas – so we were delighted to stumble upon a tiny tapas bar on our very first evening, serving delicious seafood dishes fresh from the nearby waters. With a glass of superb local wine in hand, we settled happily into the Basque rhythm of life.

Yum! Not sure what to eat or drink next!

Ambling through the historic laneways after dark

Outside of school holidays the streets are quiet at night

The following morning we set off hiking through misty vineyards, climbing steadily towards the ridge above the town. September is harvest season, and the countryside was alive with activity: migrant workers arriving by bus, tractors rattling along narrow lanes towing trailers piled high with freshly picked grapes. The air felt purposeful and industrious.

Hard to see, but these vines are tall enough for people to stand under and pick the fruit from above them

As we gained height, we emerged through the fog into bright sunshine and were rewarded with magical views across a sea of cloud below us. Gradually, as the mist drifted and thinned, glimpses of water appeared – flashes of silver hinting at the Bay of Biscay beyond.

Looking inland towards the Basque Mountains

Looking towards the coast, we see a surreal sea of cloud

We spot Getaria harbour through the sea mist

We descended towards Zarautz, the next town along the coast, where we enjoyed a gentle stroll along the long sandy beach before finding a café serving fresh seafood salads.

Hazy sunshine does not deter people from the beach

Walking barefoot across the sand – it has been a while since we last did this

Refreshed, we followed the coastal path back to Getaria, finishing the afternoon in the best possible way – with a well-earned ice cream (17km under our belts by the time we reached our room!).

The coast path winds along, offering great viewpoints

Getaria Harbour – there’s a paved pathway and scenic lookout up the San Anton Mendia, seen in the background – it is known as Getaria’s mouse due to it’s shape

Some excellent ice cream – I believe this one had jalapenos in it!

Getaria is also home to some truly wonderful restaurants, and we had booked a special dinner at Kaia Kaipe. The service was impeccable – I was even discreetly offered a cushion when it became clear the low seating might prove a little challenging for a petite guest!

The food was exquisite, beautifully presented and thoughtfully paired with local wines chosen to complement both the dishes and our preferences. It was one of those rare evenings where language simply didn’t matter; despite the staff speaking little English, we shared plenty of laughter and eventually said goodbye with warm hugs, feeling more like family than visitors.

The following day we drove south along the coast to Zumaia, entirely unaware that we were arriving on a very special day – Olarro Eguna (Octopus Day!). Everywhere we looked there were octopus symbols on clothing, lively boat races on the river, and stalls serving octopus in every imaginable form: soup, skewers, paella and more. Local tradition says the town was once saved from famine thanks to an abundance of octopus, and in 2004 the idea emerged to celebrate this curious piece of history with an annual festival.

Having watched My Octopus Teacher on Netflix, octopus was not on our menu, but we found a lovely spot for lunch before wandering over to Itzurun Beach, a striking stretch of coastline famed for its extraordinary geological formations.

The dramatic cliffs here display a geological phenomenon known as Flysch – layers of sedimentary rock originally laid down horizontally on the seabed, later tilted and sculpted by tectonic forces and erosion into the remarkable striped formations seen today. The location also gained international recognition as the filming site for Dragonstone Landing in Game of Thrones.

Unlike on our 2019 visit to Dubrovnik in Croatia, there are no people in Game of Thrones dress posing by these cliffs on our visit

It was a fitting finale to our time in Spain – a journey filled with extraordinary landscapes, memorable encounters and more than a little adventure along the way.

The following day, I bade farewell to Mr A and caught the bus to Bilbao Airport, flying back to Bristol and home. A day later, Mr A boarded the ferry in Santander for his 24-hour sailing back.

It has been a marvellous tour of a truly stunning part of Spain – rich in history, culture, food and natural beauty. We are already looking forward to discovering more on a future trip.

February 14, 2026February 14, 2026

September 2025 – Into the land of vultures – a road trip through northern Spain (part 1)

Author: Mrs A

Location: Northern Spain – Haro, Laguardia, Torla-Ordesa, and Ainsa

Santander to Ainsa by way of Bilbao, Haro, Laguardia and Torla-Ordesa

It was September 2025. The European summer school holidays had drawn to a close – the perfect moment to slip away and explore somewhere new. It also happened to be Mr A’s birthday, which felt like all the justification we needed for an adventure. Spain it was.

Mr A opted for the scenic route, taking the ferry from Plymouth to Santander with our Land Rover Defender packed to the brim with clothes, hiking boots and photography gear. I, knowing my limits when it comes to 24-hour cruises, chose the lighter option: a short flight from Bristol to Bilbao with only hand luggage, to be collected at the other end.

His crossing was, thankfully, surprisingly calm. The onboard experience, however, lived up to the long-held ferry tradition – functional rather than luxurious – and he was more than ready to disembark by the time he reached Santander, and after picking me up from Bilbao, our apartment just outside Haro.

9-11 September – Haro

Haro sits in the north-west of the Rioja wine region and proudly holds the distinction of being the first town in Spain to have electric street lighting – a little nugget of trivia for you. Within an hour of arriving, we were reunited with our friends Di and Colin, who had travelled down from the south of France, and were taxi-bound into town for drinks and dinner.

We spent two nights in Haro and ate exceptionally well. The first evening was at Los Caños – lively, bustling, and full of local flavour. The following night brought a first for us: a Michelin-starred experience at Nublo (which translates as “cloud”).

And what an experience it was.

One of the very tasty drops we were treated to

Over three unhurried hours we were served eight wines, each thoughtfully paired with one of eleven exquisitely crafted courses. Every dish arrived like a miniature work of art, presented on unique platters that felt more gallery than tableware. As a dairy-free diner, I am used to compromise – but here there was none. Each course had been adapted seamlessly and beautifully.

The wines were almost theatrical in their presentation, each accompanied by the story of its local winemaker. (All were regional, save for the French champagne.) By the end of the evening, nearing midnight, it felt as though we had attended a performance – part theatre, part tasting, part art installation – rather than simply gone out for dinner.

What a way to begin the journey and celebrate a birthday and reunion with friends.

Geese alongside the River Ebro which flows beside Haro ‘Bless you!’

Di and Genie explore the streets of Haro with some of the traditional architecture – check out those windows in the background

Lunch started late in Haro – missing breakfast meant hungrily killing time til 2pm when the tapas bars open – Mr A, Di and Colin with Genie the poodle

Some of the locals were a little wary of us

Of course, no visit to Rioja would feel complete without a vineyard tour and tasting. I had booked Mr A, Di and Colin onto a visit to Bodegas Roda, one of the region’s most highly regarded wineries.

It had been a few months since our last cellar-door experience – something we indulged in frequently during our travels around Australia and New Zealand – so we were more than ready. Bodegas Roda proved to be an interesting contrast to some of those more traditional estates. Founded in the late 1980s by a collective of wine enthusiasts rather than generational winemakers, it was designed with sustainability at its core. Renewable energy, meticulous temperature control, and innovative ageing techniques all play a role in how their wines are produced and stored.

And the results speak for themselves.

We sampled a selection of their premier reds and whites, each distinctive and elegant, alongside local olive oil – a bottle of which is now being happily enjoyed back home in Somerset.

Di enjoys a few sips of ‘The Ones’ – their premier vintages

11-12 September – Laguardia

Our time in and around Haro felt authentic and refreshingly untouristed. That changed somewhat when we moved on to the very pretty, walled village of Laguardia for our next night.

A brief diversion to the sleepy San Vincente de la Sonsierra – a walled town with castle ruins, and a magnificent viewpoint across the region

San Vincente de la Sonsierra as viewed from the castle ruins

On arrival in Laguardia, the narrow cobbled streets were packed with tour groups, guides recounting the town’s history in every language but English – no chance of discreetly hovering nearby to listen in!

A quiet cobbled street, away from the crowds

Once we drifted away from the crowds, however, we discovered a quieter charm. Tiny interwoven streets, stone-built houses with delightfully wonky windows and doorways, and an atmosphere that made it easy to imagine life centuries ago. Laguardia was founded in the 10th century as a fortress for the Kingdom of Navarre, and that sense of layered history still lingers in the walls.

Every angle is different – old studded doors are abundant here

Another tour group learns about the history of the church

This was our final evening with Di and Colin. We shared a simple meal in town, followed by a starlit wander through the streets before saying our goodbyes – including to their elderly little poodle, Genie, who was carried everywhere like precious hand luggage. Then it was time to part ways and continue our journeys separately.

12-14 September – Torla-Ordesa

Our next destination was Torla-Ordesa, the gateway to the breathtaking Ordesa Valley in the Pyrenees Mountains. The drive alone felt like part of the adventure: narrow roads winding steadily upwards, the Río Ara tumbling and crashing over rocks far below us.

Torla-Ordesa is another picture-perfect mountain village with a fascinating geographical quirk. It borders France – yet there is no road connecting the two. Back in 2016, during a motorhoming adventure, Mr A and I had hiked in the spectacular Cirque de Gavarnie on the French side of the Pyrenees, accompanied by an abundance of cheerful marmots. As the crow flies, Gavarnie is a mere 11 kilometres from Torla. By road? A rather more committed 233 kilometres. Oh, to be a crow.

An orientating stroll around town on our first day – we spot where we have already booked for dinner

The view from our window, looking across the rooftops

Sadly, no marmots made an appearance during our two-night stay this time. We did, however, complete a fabulous walk up the valley – just over 20 kilometres there and back – passing plunging waterfalls and vast, dramatic views carved by glaciers over millennia.

It was undeniably beautiful. It was also undeniably busy.

You’re rarely alone in the Ordesa Valley!

Many of the routes in Ordesa are designed as multi-day hikes, and day walkers and backpackers alike are funnelled along the same main trail. There were very few moments of solitude, and private pauses – particularly those requiring a discreet crouch behind a tree – needed to be executed with impressive efficiency.

Even so, we loved our time there. The scale of the landscape dwarfs any irritation, and there is something energising about being part of a shared pilgrimage into such grandeur.

Mr A swears we are the same height in this image…grrr….

From there we descended towards our next stop: Aínsa.

En route to Aínsa, we took a short detour to Boltaña, having read about the ruins of Castillo de Boltaña perched high above the village. The promise of sweeping views – and perhaps a glimpse of circling raptors – was too tempting to resist.

We pulled off the road and began the steady climb, winding up through narrow village streets before the path steepened towards the hilltop. It was already hot and humid; the early morning mist had burned away, leaving the air heavy and still. The ascent was no small effort, but step by step the rooftops fell away beneath us.

At the summit, the reward was immediate: glorious views across terracotta tiles, rolling hills and the broad Sobrarbe landscape stretching into the distance. Little remains of the castle itself – time has reduced most of it to atmospheric ruins – but the sense of history is unmistakable.

We see a glimpse of the rocky Pyrenees in the distance

Beside the remnants stands the beautifully preserved Ermita de Santa Lucía, a small hermitage framed by gnarled, ancient olive trees. A statue of Christ, arms outstretched atop a stone pillar, seemed to greet us as we arrived — a quiet, contemplative presence against the vast sky.

After lingering to take it all in (and scanning the thermals for any soaring birds of prey), we made our way back down and rewarded ourselves with a cold drink at a sleepy café in the village square before continuing our journey towards Aínsa.

14-16 September – Aínsa

Aínsa sits at the confluence of the Río Ara and the Río Cinca, where the Ara’s wild mountain rush softens into a broader, calmer body of water. After the drama of the high Pyrenees, it felt like a gentle exhale.

Aínsa is another magnificently preserved medieval town, its origins dating back to the year 724. Perched high on a hill, it centres around a lively main square framed by stone arcades, restaurants and bars – a place that hums with conversation long into the evening.

Looking over the town square, bustling with market stalls and a live band

The landscape surrounding Aínsa is wonderfully varied: wide floodplains and rolling hills give way to steep, dramatic cliffs. It was this terrain – and the thermals it creates – that had drawn us here. We had heard it was not uncommon to see Black and Red Kites, Booted Eagles, Short-toed Snake Eagles, Egyptian Vultures and Griffon Vultures all circling overhead at once.

My telephoto lens was ready.

With temperatures climbing into the early 30s Celsius, this was not the moment for long, sticky hikes. Instead, we sought out a shady spot on a pebbly beach beside the river and settled in to watch the skies.

It wasn’t long before we saw our first Griffon Vultures, circling high above. Their wingspan is extraordinary – typically between two and three metres – and they glide effortlessly on the rising thermals along the cliff faces. There is something mesmerising about their slow, deliberate spirals, scanning the land below.

We spent a blissful couple of hours watching them before wandering further along the river in search of a place to cool off. No, don’t be silly – no swimming involved (we had seen the icy peaks where that water begins!). But sitting at the river’s edge with our feet submerged in the clear, cold flow was refreshment enough.

A book, a river and a chair…what more does one need?

Sunset in Aínsa is not to be missed. We perched on the ancient stone walls as the sinking sun bathed the surrounding cliffs and hills in gold, the light softening every edge. Afterwards, we wandered back into town in search of local food and wine — the perfect close to another richly textured day.

Not everyone knows why I had to walk in the drains to not break my ankle, but some might!

Escaping the children who delighted in scaring people with their loud crackers

***

November 14, 2025November 14, 2025

February 2025: A hike through Fiordland, New Zealand.

Author: Mr A

Mrs A and I recently were privileged to spend two months in Australia and New Zealand, with a quick dip into Tokyo for 3 nights. Yes..privileged. What percentage of the world gets to have 8 weeks of hedonistic travel, where they don’t need to work, cook, or clean. However, as I’m writing that, I also know people who would miss one, some, or even all of those things! We didn’t.

We spent time with friends and family who we hadn’t seen much of, or at all, since we migrated back to the UK three years ago. It was a blast. Lots of eating out with tables full of those smiling faces. Mostly we felt we slotted right back in, and were able to pick right back up where we left off. Some of them were kind enough to host us, and a special thanks to you.

But I’m going to focus in this post on just one part of the trip that I think may be of interest to others, because it was just so amazing, and friends/family reading this, may want to consider doing something similar.

Down the bottom of the South Island of New Zealand is an area of largely untracked wilderness called Fiordland. A massive area around ten times the size of London, but with a population of just under 4,200 people, as compared to London’s 8.9 million! That’s right…there are not many people about.

In 1888 one of the very few paths that cross it was opened up through a section connecting two of the flooded river valleys that inundate it from the coast. The Milford Track was born, and along it were built some wooden lodges for walkers.

We signed up for a five day package that coached and boated us to the start of the walk, allowed use of the lodges, fed us, guided us along the track, and included a cruise on the last day up one of the sounds. You can also walk the track independently, if you are game to be totally self sufficient getting into and out of the area, and feeding and bedding yourself on the walk itself.

Mr & Mrs A getting ready to board the coach

The organisation we used was called Ultimate Hikes, and what a fantastic experience they gave us. Every aspect so well thought through and delivered. Our friends had recommended them after using them the previous year to walk the track, and were doing another one in Fiordland with them while we were on ours (the Routeburn Track).

Ultimate Hikes gave us a really memorable experience, from the briefing material about what to expect on the track (conditions, challenges, what to bring etc), to the quality of the guides they hired, who were always on the lookout and ready to support people who were struggling. Given the only way out once you start the walk is via helicopter at your expense, that’s important. More of that later.

After a long hike knowing you were going to be fed and watered with hearty, high quality meals, take a long shower, maybe even have a glass of something nice…that was outstanding! The huts even had special drying rooms so we only needed to carry one change of clothes and could wash our hiking set every day. Luxury…

Our boat trip across Lake Te Anau rewarded us with breathtaking views, and yes, that is snow – the meltwater from those glaciers was to provide us with pristine ice-cold drinking water for the next few days.

Excited to be at the beginning of the track – 49 miles/78.5 km of walking ahead of us

Our group mostly New Zealanders, some Australians, Americans, one other person from the UK and a girl from Korea

Our view from Glade House, our first night’s accomodation beside the Clinton River

A typical example of how we roughed it at night – not bad – with an en-suite too. Catherine managed to carry all her clothes, food, water and toiletries in her day pack, while I borrowed a larger pack from Ultimate Hikes for my more substantial items!

It was such a rewarding experience at so many levels. To be totally immersed in nature is something we love, but also to challenge ourselves and to learn more about what we can accomplish, now that was high value to us.

South Island robin (Petroica australis australis) on our nature walk – we saw a lot of these throughout our days walking

New Zealand Fantail (Pīwakawaka) – friendly insect eater almost omnipresent as we hiked

So what was it like? Well the question most people have is “How hard is it?”, and you will get a lot of different answers to that from people who have done the walk. I can only relay the facts, and based on that assess if you would find it easy, hard, or not something you would even consider.

We walked the following distances and altitude:

Day 1: 5.5 km, a short stroll around the bushland surrounding the first lodge to acclimatise to the terrain and wildlife we might encounter.
Day 2: 22 km, a wander through a stunning river valley, with 285 metres climbing.
Day 3: 22.5 km up over a pass with 827 metres of climbing and 900 metres of descent, and finally…
Day 4: 28.5 km along another river valley lined with spectacular waterfalls, and just 205 metres of climbing.

The other two variables you should consider are terrain and weather. A good portion of the track is well formed and allows you to look up not constantly checking where you are going top put your next step. However, Day 3 has you very much focusing on your feet as you descend a boulder strewn path, and slippery routes with steep rocky cliffs for some of the rest.

The weather for us was dry, unusual for the Milford Track, it can often rain in torrents for the whole walk. It was 30 degrees centigrade in the sun on our big ascent and descent, and that was as hard as rain. So you have to be willing and prepared to walk in all conditions, including snow, and winds so strong you can barely stand.

A curious Weka – these were constant companions at lunchtime – they would snaffle your food if you didn’t watch it closely!

How did we find it? Well …we both finished…but had quite different experiences…

Catherine describes her Day 3 with the steep climbing as the only really quite challenging one, and without me holding her back would no doubt have been up among some of the early finishers, if she had chosen to rush it. She has strong legs, great balance, and determination. At the time, she also had a 25% constricted airway, and proudly wrote a message in the walk book for any future hikers with idiopathic subglottic stenosis to inspire them to keep on going.

Both relieved to have scaled Mackinnon Pass with our various challenges. Apparently we were incredibly fortunate with the weather – usually you cannot see these peaks and their frozen glaciers

Mrs A with the Clinton River Valley behind her

Way down behind us in the Arthur River Valley is Quintin Lodge, a few hours of downhill hiking still ahead. These views are magnificent.

I unfortunately damaged my calf on day one, a pulled muscle we think leading to cramping, that an hour into day two became very difficult to walk on. I had to make a call, to either press on and hope I could walk through it with some treatment suggested by the guides (massage and hydration), or turn round while I could still get out by boat. Any further and it would be the helicopter and a very large bill.

I chose option 1. The cramps, or whatever it was, came and went during the walk.

A Kea parrot – they have the intelligence of a 3 year old and are incredibly mischievous. This one and its three buddies were about to go and attack someone’s backpack they had left while they went for a toilet break!

The last 15 km of Day four I was reduced to shuffling along in a world of hurt with a left leg that I could barely stand to put my weight on. Less fun than you would imagine. Catherine would wait for me every so often and check in, as did the guides when they dashed past to set up for our next scheduled stop. The guides would provide sugary drinks to hydrate, and once we reached our hut there were massage rollers to help loosen the muscles. So for me it was certainly a challenge, mentally as much as anything. I knew I had to keep going. There was no option. It’s good to learn you can do that when necessity dictates.

An eel emerges from rocks on the Arthur River

The rediculously stunning Mackay Falls was a highlight on day 4

Crossing over one of the many swing bridges

The Arthur River and Lake Ada, looking calm and moody on our final afternoon

No room for vertigo at this stage of the walk! This path was chipped out by hand by former miners

Thank goodness for those two hiking poles

The scenery was, as you can hopefully see from a selection of these photos we took, spectacular. Lush rain forest, snow covered peaks, prolific birdlife, it had it all.

We were pleased to reach the aptly named ‘Sandfly Point’ (little biting flies which are always hungry and hunt in packs!) mid afternoon on our fourth day, and join a bunch of our fellow walkers on the boat trip across Deepwater Basin to our final night’s accomodation at Milford Sound.

We tracked every step and side walk – for us this was 49 miles

Sun setting over Milford Sound – it feels like we are back in civilisation with washing machines and roads giving us a bit of a culture shock

Day 5 had very little walking – a short stroll to board a cruise around Milford Sound, before a coach escorted us back to Queenstown.

The view into Milford Sound is every changing – this as we headed off to join our post hike boat cruise on the sound before our coach took us back to Queenstown

Stirling Falls plunges into Milford Sound. It is said you will become ten years younger if you are touched by its waters…not entirely sure that worked, despite everyone on board our boat being covered in spray!

New Zealand Fur Seal and Tawaki/Fiordland Crested Penguins seen from our day 5 cruise

Here’s link to Ultimate Hikes in case you fancy walking this route, or one of the other New Zealand walks. What a country. We love it.

September 7, 2025September 8, 2025

North Island New Zealand

Author: Mrs A

Dates: 30 January-13 February 2025

Location: Omokaroa, Tauranga, Lake Taupo and Stratford, North Island of New Zealand

Omokaroa was our first port of call, and a restful few days with my dad, Richard and his wife, Sue. They have had a tumultuous few months with both of them not in the best of health, Sue with bad back pain, and Richard having multiple surgeries, the latest of which had been the day before our arrival. It was great to be able to help them out with shopping, meal making and gardening duties in between getting out and about and enjoying their stunning location.

Dad and Sue’s house (in the background) borders a wetland reserve and golf course

We did some very warm walks, one of which we had done about 8 years ago, but since then there had been some wild weather resulting in trees down and some pathway erosion, making it more of an assult course than previously! We were lucky to see quite a few North Island Black Robins which are endangered, but being encouraged back with many rat, stoat and weasel traps throughout the bush to rid the area of the most harmful introduced pests.

Relief from the scorching sun under the canopy of tree-ferns

A very friendly and curious North Island Robin joined us through the forest walk

Another day we visited Waihi Beach near where Dad and Sue used to live – endless white sand and turquoise waters

A wave breaks with an outlook on Mayor Island/Tuhua

Mark and I walked over to Shelley Beach near Bowentown, an old favourite haunt – the water was really warm, and it was here we had our first New Zealand swim of the trip

Our time rushed by, and before long we were travelling down to Tauranga to stay a night with our friend Owen’s sister Kay, and brother-in-law Frank, at the airport. It’s certainly a unique place to live, and after a superb lunch in nearby Mount Maunganui, we had a lovely afternoon enjoying the spectacle of planes arriving and leaving.

The view out to Mount Maunganui from our lunch spot

The following day, Owen, Mark and I left in our hire car heading to spectacular Lake Taupo. The weather was warm and sunny, and we arrived just in time to head out on the lake with Owen’s other sister Vicki, and brother-in-law, David, on their boat. Just stunning scenery.

Vicki, and Owen admire the sunset, while David admires Vicki

Our time there was just fabulous. Great company, mealtimes full of delicious food, wine and laughter, and more time on the water. Mr A and I went out kayaking, finding the shallow and bird-filled waters hidden behind Motuoapa Bay.

My boat was not ideal for sneaking up on birds…!

Our friends Jenny and David drove over from their home in Stratford to join us, generously also put up by Vicki and David, and joined us on another boat trip on the lake. The conditions were perfect and David and Vicki took us to where the hot springs fed into the lake warming the sand and water perfectly.

Can’t beat a glass of NZ white to accompany a sunny afternoon on the lake

Aside from eating, drinking and being general lushes, we did a lovely hike around Lake Rotopounamu

Time flies when you’re having fun, and it was not long before we were hugging Vicki, David and Owen farewell, and joining Jenny and David for a winding drive along rainforest lined roads on the way to Stratford on the western side of the North Island.

A viewpoint looking out over Ruapehu, Ngauruhoe and Tongariro

Our journey took us along the scenic and winding Forgotten World Highway (State Highway 43) which followed the Tangarakau River for much of its journey

Lunch was at the remote Whangamomona Hotel. Frustrated with local councils, residents declared it ‘The Republic of Whangamōmona’ in 1989, and held their own presidential elections. The famous Republic Day is held biennially in January, Passports can be purchased at the Hotel to ensure safe passage through the Republic…we stuck to burgers and chips!

Jenny and David have a beautiful home in Stratford, tastefully renovated and decorated, and hosting some stunning art and photography from their collection. Initially we had to trust Jenny’s insistance that there was a huge volcano overlooking the small town – there was nothing to see but clouds. But as the sun set, the cloud lifted, giving us our first glimpse of Mount Taranaki, or ‘The Naki’ to the locals.

David crosses the playing fields across from their home as the clouds drift away from Taranaki

The next day Jenny took us to Rotokare Scenic Reserve, a predator-free sanctuary where 230 hectares of native bushland are protected from preditors. We saw so many birds which are endangered and rarely seen outside these fences.

A rest point along our circuit hike, over looking Rotokare Lake

North Island robins (toutouwai) were plentiful and always posing for a photo

A stitchbird (hihi) – they’re pretty hard to see in the darkness of the undergrowth and like to feed on nectar

The mountain was our destination for our third day – after a brief visit to a possum fur and marino wool products factory, it was off to commence a hike up. It was a misty and drizzly morning, and while the views were not rewarding on this occasion, we certainly achieved a good training hike for our South-Island adventures to come.

The bushland is rich in plant life, the misty moisture a perfect ecosystem for mosses and ferns

Not quite the rewarding views we were seeking…but atmospheric all the same

The next day was perfectly clear, and Jenny made sure we took advantage of the day to see the volcano and its amazing views from all angles.

Considered active, Taranaki will one day erupt again. It erupts every 150 years on average – it has been 160 years since the last one…

We can see for many miles from the lookout on Taranaki

Mount Taranaki once again shows itself as we cross the Te Rewa Rewa Bridge on the New Plymouth coastal walkway

It was a moonlit start to our final morning, as we departed at 4:30am to drive to the airport at New Plymouth.

From there Mark, Jenny, David and I took off at sunrise, and were treated to the most fabulous views of Mount Taranaki as the plane circumnavigated the vocano before heading due south towards Queenstown, and our next adventures!

May 24, 2025

So…we went back to the lands down under!

Author: Mrs A

We have recently hit the three year anniversary since our departure from Australia, and mentally we felt ready to go back for a visit to see our friends and family down under.

Leaving Somerset on a crisp, blue sky, winter’s morning in mid-January, we wondered what might await us in Sydney on our arrival. We both had nerves about how our heart-strings might be tugged, would we really miss our old life, and wish we were back there?

Boarding the ‘Shania Train’ (yes, really!) to head to Heathrow from Taunton

We had chosen to fly Business Class via Japan Airlines, substantially cheaper than the likes of Singapore Airlines, Emirates, BA or Qantas, and fabulous Japanese food too. Our journey was very comfortable with our own private ‘rooms’ on board the plane, and a luxurious seat that lay flat for a stretch out and sleep.

It was 14 hours to Tokyo, a stroll around the airport, and a further 9 hours to Sydney, arriving relatively refreshed to train driver strikes and the end of a severe storm which had unleashed heavy rain, strong winds, flash flooding and giant hailstones! Welcome back to to Oz!

Mad weather in Sydney! Luckily we had waterproofs easily accessible.

But as we always used to say when we visited the UK, we were not there for the weather, but for the people, and that certainly was true on this visit.

Our time in Sydney flew by, packed to the rafters with catch-ups over breakfast, lunches and dinners, with fun and laughter bridging the gap since our last time together. For many of our friends, it wasn’t too long, with catchups in the UK and Europe, but for those we hadn’t seen since Covid-times and beyond, it still felt like only yesterday. The mark of true friendships.

A Sunday afternoon session with oh so many laughs

A breakfast catch up with friends from right across the state

Richard and Rosemary – the king and queen of picnics brought us a feast to share

Friends Diane and Mark from Victoria drove up to spend a day with us

And we caught up with Trish, a neighbour from Somerset who was in Sydney at the same time

It was a whirlwind of 9 days in Sydney, and then we jumped on another plane to fly to Melbourne for a few days break with our friend Owen on the Mornington Peninsular.

Owen met us at the airport, patiently waiting while my luggage frustratingly flew in on a later flight, then took us to the market so we could eat our weight in seafood! Oh how we have missed those Sydney Rock oysters!

There followed five days of fun and laughter, as a couple more friends, Karen and Chris, joined in, and Owen’s son, Tom, also visited.

Welcome dinner and drinks at St Andrew’s Beach Brewery, where Mark and Chris tried the Imperial Stout – at 12.40% it was like a very large glass of wine without the grapes!

We managed to get in some walking too, an attempt to counteract the excesses of the previous few days.

A picnic at Cape Schanck (or Schnack as Karen says!) lighthouse

Looking out into the Bass Strait – next stop Tasmania

Team photo on the beach – Karen, Chris, me, Owen and Mr A

It was a few days of delicious food and wine, and great company, and we were able to see more of the Mornington Peninsular than we had in the past.

After Chris and Karen had left, Owen took us to the very tip of the peninsular to Pont Nepean, well worth a visit. It’s one of those rare spots where jaw-dropping natural beauty and fascinating history collide. Perched at the very tip of the peninsula, this rugged stretch of coastline once served as a key defence post and quarantine station, and you can still explore the old tunnels, forts, and gun emplacements that once guarded the entrance to Port Phillip Bay.

Long before the military involvement, it was home to the Boon Wurrung people, and there are important cultural sites scattered throughout the area. These days, Point Nepean is part of a national park, and it’s a dream for hikers, history buffs, and anyone who just wants to soak up some salty sea air and incredible views. Think windswept cliffs (very windy on our visit!), turquoise waters, and a real sense of stepping back in time.

A bit of coast walking – check out the colour of the water!

One of the many military tunnels we explored

These weathered timber piles are all that remains of the historical jetty, which in the late 1800s was the jumping off point for livestock which were processed at this quarantine station to negate risking the spread of disease to the mainland.

Our second Echidna of the visit – notice their backward facing rear claws, which help them with digging and cleaning. Did you know echidnas lay eggs rather than live young? Interesting creatures…

On our final day, Owen took us on a short drive up the coast to to do a bit of a coastal hike. It started off bright and sunny but soon clouded over, but remained a comfortable walking temperature.

Threatening skies off the coast thankfully stayed out at sea

Owen looking along the wild coast – not ideal swimming conditions here!

Rabbit Rock? That’s what we called it, anyhow!

It was lovely to smell the familar scents of the Australian coastal bush, spot lizards dashing off into the undergrowth, and birds which made me wish I had brought my big camera with me! But you can’t have everything, and with a two month trip with many destinations involved, it was important to travel fairly light.

Easily missed, a Jacky Dragon blends in with the sand particles

It was a lovely relaxing time with Owen and Tom, some delicious food, great music and fine hospitality, but before long it was time to say farewell, and take off for our next destination – New Zealand, and many more walking adventures!

Our flying visit back had definitely tugged at the heartstrings a little, seeing our gorgeous friends, revisiting the fabulous wildlife and scenery, but reminded us that it is never goodbye, always ‘Until the next time‘!

December 28, 2024

4-14 July 2024 – Embracing the north – part two of three

Location: The Orkney Islands, Scotland, UK

Author: Mrs A

9th July – Hiking on Hoy

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 side

The locals are quite friendly, if not too chatty

There is barely any wind, making for a gorgeous July morning

I 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 Orkney archipelago 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!

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.

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 – incredible

Once 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 BC

Pottery, 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 horizon

A magical moment as the sun emerges briefly, lighting up the stones which are surrounded by heather, buttercups and a multitude of little wildflowers

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!

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 morning

Lunch 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 nation

The 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.

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!

***

September 24, 2024October 6, 2024

4-14 July 2024 – Embracing the north – part one of three

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.

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.

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.

7 July: Westray reveals 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.

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 partner

Wrapped up and ready for anything, Mr A got a lot of use out of his binoculars

Black Guillemots wearing their breeding colours – fabulous scarlet legs matching the inside of their mouth

Razorbills 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 cliffs

Rain 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 sea

A 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 Hoy

A 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.

A non highland cow using a bull as a pillow

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 bay

The houses had drainage and stone bed areas, and would have had stone slabs on the roof

It felt quite eerie seeing such familiar things from more than 5,000 years ago

The 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!

The beach in front of the house, surrounded by sand dunes

The 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 cliff

I 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 Tormentil

Primula scotia – the Scottish Primrose – endemic to just three areas – Caithness, Sutherland and Orkney. It is commonly overlooked as its flowers are so tiny

This 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.

The 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.

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!

May 2, 2024May 27, 2024

24-27 April 2024 – Mini-break in Truffy the Motorhome

Author: Mrs A

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.

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 coast

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 local

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.

A calf bravely eyes us off from a safe distance, before skittering away to hide behind the brightly flowering gorse

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.

Our 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 farm

Rhododendron 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.

February 1, 2023February 18, 2023

5 Jan-18 Feb 2023: The one year anniversary of starting ‘Life-2.0’ in the UK

Author: Mr A

Twelve months ago on the 2nd of the 2nd 2022 (a hard to forget date, even for me), we stepped off a plane from Sydney and showed our passports at Heathrow Airport. We had one way tickets…a fairly committing thought I can tell you.

Farewell Sydney, we headed ‘up over’! – this was us 12 months ago, in January 2022

Reflecting back, we’ve come so far, even my grand-kids recognise me! Old friendships have been rekindled, and new ones are forming. Toasts have been made to a new life. Oh and we found the house of our dreams in one of the most rural counties in England…where A roads are few and far between, and B roads look a lot like goat tracks…Somerset…we love you. Its been a wild ride, but we’ve settled now and love it.

Our village is starting to feel like somewhere we belong, and can really craft a new identity in. Everyone here has been so kind and welcoming. We recognise faces in the street , and in turn are recognised. That feels good. I help out in our community-owned shop on a Saturday morning and that’s got me known among some of the regulars, the ones who cross the street when they see me coming (to the other side!).

Our village square – the White Horse pub in front, the village shop is to the right of the pub…a three minute walk from home, so not too bad a commute!

A night out at our local cider barn, Sheppy’s Cider, for their annual Wassail – an ancient West Country cider festival with songs, poetry, dancing and (of course) drinking to wake up the apple trees, therefore ensuring a good harvest! We bumped into friends from the village and had a great time there.

Catherine has started to bed herself into the community, joining in Pilates at the village hall, producing a flier for the shop, and taking herself off in a small women’s walking group she was invited to join.

Joining Claire and Lizzie from the village for a walk with their two dogs, Amber and Fudge

A little piece of Victorian history in the abandoned mill in Wellington

Claire and Lizzie heading off through the woods

Catherine has also landed (another) voluntary job as photographer for the Somerset arm of a charity called CPRE (Campaign to Protect Rural England) – you’ll find her photos on their website and Instagram (@cpresomerset). We signed up to help with their litter pick-up initiative, and have used our kits to clean up the lane where we live.

We wonder how much of this falls off the recycling truck!

Oh but what about the weather you say? Well maybe we are still in the honeymoon period, but the long dark nights of this winter have been an opportunity to get the log burner cranked up, pour ourselves a nice glass of red, and chill out, which in my case means reading and music, and in Catherine’s writing documents for her support group or research papers she is contributing to. Now there are already signs of spring, with snowdrops and daffodils poking their heads out of our lawn and borders. Well …where the squirrels and badgers haven’t dug up the bulbs we carefully buried, little buggers!

Newly bursting crocus in the morning dew

We try to distract the aforementioned squirrels with peanuts…not sure it has worked though!

Our village did experience some local flooding, but not on our property which seems very well drained, and we don’t actually feel like we had many days of rain. We have been getting out and about no problem. There were certainly more than a few muddy walks, with some requiring wellies, but we have enjoyed them all. Just need to have the right gear.

A walk from our front door took us up into the foothills of the Blackdowns

Looking back at our village, nestled in the valley. Our house is the one with all the solar panels!

Walking 8km in wellies takes some getting used to!

On another walk we nipped over the border into Devon to catch up with our friends Julie, Russ, Maisie and Beth

The remains of the 11th century Dunkeswell Abbey, where we had a picnic lunch

A stream winds its way through a field…a perfect spot to sail our stick and leaf boats for a race

Beth and Maisie….or is it the other way around…?

We have also been able to borrow our new neighbours’ dog Ralph, and take him for a romp, and give him back muddy 🙂

We even walked out over the fields for a Sunday lunch at a local pub last week, that just felt so good. When I look back over January and February, I really have many happy memories created outdoors and in.

We haven’t had too many visitors, a nice break after the last summer’s rush just after we had moved in, but Catherine’s half brother Alex came and stayed locally and did a great walk with us.

Alex brought along his two border terriers, Scout and Raffles

You can see the sun is soon melting the frost in the fields

Break for drinks on an old iron-age burial mound…as you do!

Then a couple of friends from Australia did an overnight in between family visits. We certainly miss our friends in Australia, but our life needed to move on to adventures new.

Catherine has been able to spend so much more time with her family, having another weekend in Brighton with her sister and family, then to Hastings, to farewell her grandma.

Claire and Catherine – old friends from Uni days

Alice, Keely and Catherine’s sister, Helen also joined for a night out in Brighton

A timely catch up with friend from Australia, Wendy who happened to be in Sussex visiting family

Sunny Sunday walk in the woods with Helen’s dog, Cocoa

Catherine’s mum, Jenny with her younger sister, Pam, a rare reunion at their mum’s funeral. All guests wore a touch of red as recognition of Jean’s love of the colour, and dancing to Chris de Burgh’s Lady in Red

Catherine stayed a couple of nights with her mum after the funeral

A multitude of door knockers to be found

We both also have had several trips into London for specialist medical support, which when the trains are running has been dead easy! So not very often…

Catherine’s been exploring London’s art galleries along with her medical appointments

Brighton Station at night after a day out in London

We are also setting ourselves up to get out riding this spring. We both have new e-bikes, ones that will cope with the potholes, mud and gravel a little better, and that’s just on the main roads! I’m also planning some more multi-day bike tours. Exmoor and Dartmoor beckon. A lot to look forward to.

One of my oldest friends came to stay with his bike, and we took a 75km ride along the Grand Western Canal

Our home is also taking shape. We’ve lived here nearly 8 months now, and have finished most of the major internal modifications we wanted to do, and kitted ourselves out with furniture, blinds etc. We’ve really enjoyed it, and I’m not sure why its felt different doing it here, but it has. In our last house we landscaped the garden, then stopped. Perhaps deep down we knew it wasn’t going to be our forever home, whereas this one feels like it will be. So next will come the garden, starting with the hard landscaping. We’ve chosen our provider and mapped out a design for a new patio, then it will be the shrubs and adding more privacy with trees. If we have another summer like the last one, it will get a good work out.

So that’s us. Happy in our country bubble, just keeping fingers crossed about our respective health, and enjoying each day we have in this fabulous corner of the country.

Category: Hiking

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So…we went back to the lands down under!

4-14 July 2024 – Embracing the north – part two of three

4-14 July 2024 – Embracing the north – part one of three

24-27 April 2024 – Mini-break in Truffy the Motorhome

5 Jan-18 Feb 2023: The one year anniversary of starting ‘Life-2.0’ in the UK

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