23 December-4 January 2021: A Christmas and New Year on the Mornington Peninusala

Author: Mr A

Location: Rye, Mornington Peninsula, Victoria

We left our friends near Lakes Entrance wondering in these uncertain times when we would see them again. That’s one of the hidden costs of the pandemic, the lack of control felt by most of us over our lives, with movement regularly restricted at short notice. But we had a plan for Christmas and New Year at least. We had been generously invited by a friend from my working days to come and spend the period with him and his family.

For those unfamiliar with the Mornington Peninsula, it sits about a 90 minute drive from Melbourne’s CBD around the huge foreshore of Port Philip Bay. The bay itself is just under 2,000 square kilometres, and mostly shallow, ideal for water sports and swimming, framed by beautiful beaches. We were heading for one of the regions that has become a mecca for Victorians as a holiday destination. Its climate, beaches, world class wineries and restaurants, and currently zero community transmissions of COVID-19, made for a compelling place to hang out.

We had only ever been on a day trip to the Mornington Peninsula once early last year, joining our friend Owen for a walk and beer tasting.

Due to the virus kicking off again in NSW, Owen had some extra visitors, namely his daughter, son-in-law and their beautifully natured golden retriever, who could no longer travel up to Sydney. His son and partner also joined us for a few days, so we had a lovely family friendship gathering we could enjoy. It did reinforce how we would love to spend this season with our own families one year. Lets see…

Owen drives us to see the sun set over the ocean side of the peninsula on our first day – just stunning and wild
A Christmas Eve beach walk blows the cobwebs away
The national park is just stunning, even on an overcast day

Fabulous food was purchased, prepared and consumed at very regular intervals. Amazing wines sampled, music played, and wit and repartee abounded. Unfortunately for us the property opposite the drive where we were camped out in our caravan, had been rented out by a group of people who decided they would continue their loud celebrations to the early hours of the morning for four days on the trot. Catherine mostly slept thought it, I didn’t, and just don’t function well on a few hours of broken sleep. They finally cleared out after six days. An unfortunate down side of being in a stunning area – lots of other people want to come.

Owen, Tim and Mark – Christmas Day martinis all round and lots of fun and laughter all day long
Boxing Day cycle around the beaches – it also happened to be Tim’s birthday
An evening birthday celebration for Tim at The Baths, a local waterside venue
Beautiful views on a warm evening
The evening concluded with home baked chocolate birthday mud cake and a dangerously large game of Jenga!

The population of the peninsula almost doubles over this period, traffic is heavy, although we did manage to find a car spot right opposite a great beach to head off for a short kayak. Owen had a new Stand Up Paddle Board to get the hang of. Many smiles ensued, mostly from us! Of course the Mrs Co-ordinated-Well-Balanced-Anderson gets straight up and heads off into the blue without getting her ankles wet. I tried and immediately took a fully submersed nose dive. And there you have in a microcosm our respective sporting abilities 🙂

We headed out for several walks along the coast, which has been left undeveloped in a narrow strip along the cliff tops, making for some fabulous views.

On Koonya Ocean Beach headland
Koonya Ocean Beach
The Ti trees look like sculptures, with their twisted trunks
Diamond Bay
Looking out for seals and dolphins at Diamond Bay. None to be seen today
The diversity of the dune flora is wonderful – a veritable palate of colours and textures
Top left: a singing honeyeater Top right & bottom left: rugged bays along the coastal walk Bottom right: dune grasses
Hungry seagulls descending on a berry filled bush in the dune heathland to gorge themselves
LIke the Coast Path through Cornwall in the UK, five minutes from the. car parks and the crowds dissipate
Pristine beaches and wild and rocky coast
Mark and Owen ride along the coast to Rosebud and back
Another post-pub dinner sunset treat

New Year’s eve rolled around, and as with many millions around the world we reflected on the challenges of 2020 and what their legacy would mean for the coming year. We had a wonderful evening, having been invited round to join Owen’s friends at their house nearby, and were treated to fabulous food and wine.

Covid-safe Owen plays waiter accompanied by Leonie with our delicious double thick porterhouse steak, medium rare – delicious

They also arranged a couple of wineries for a visit a couple of days later. Such a privilege to be able to do things like this when so much of the rest of the world is not.

Main Ridge Estate cellar door our first stop
Archie the wine dog
Wine tasting at Crittenden Estate followed by lunch at Stillwater Restaurant
Mark, Leonie, Peter, Scott, Leigh, Owen
Cheers!

Our New Year present to ourselves was a new kayak. Our current fibreglass and kevlar one is a massive beast at 7.3 metres long, and limits the type of terrain we can travel across, restricting us to tarmac or smooth gravel roads. Anything rougher and its likely we would damage it. So we bought an inflatable one that we can store inside our truck.

We trial the kayak on a 7km paddle along the coast in Port Philip Bay – it passes the test

You may already know we have inflatable packrafts (left in the UK) but they just dont paddle in a straight line very well. The packrafts are great to carry when space is really tight, but we wanted something we could cover some ground in. I had been researching for a while and came up with what looked to be a good solution. It’s an inflatable that has aluminium rails inserted at the bow and read to improve its speed and tracking. There was only one left for sale in Australia, and it happened to be available an hour’s drive down the road. We picked it up and test paddled it. Wow – what a great boat – it cut though the water almost as well as our hard shell boat, but was a lot lighter to carry down to the water, and just fitted in our Landcruiser’s rear cargo area. It was meant to be. I’ll write up about it some more in a separate blog for those interested.

How perfect is this water?

It has been a Christmas and New Year packed with activities,, and we’ve been able to explore a whole new (to us) area of Victoria. Owen has been kind to have us here and share his gorgeous home.

But now it is time to pull up stumps and head off. There’s a high level of uncertainty in our travel plans given the fresh outbreak of coronavirus that kicked off in NSW which has now spread to Victoria, but we have come to accept that we are not in control, so off we go with the flow of restrictions….

11-18 December: Down the New South Wales coast we go

Author: Mr A

Locations: Berry, Jervis Bay and Dalmeny, NSW, Australia

Sydney disappeared in the rear view mirror as we headed south a few hours down the coast to where our caravan has been stored for the last ten months. It was all washed and waiting for us to hitch up and go. Now mental and muscle memory had to take over and remind me of all the road craft I had amassed from previous years towing. No dainty little motorhome any more, I had just under 8 metres of caravan ready to cut in at roundabouts, clip road side signs if I didn’t account for the extra width, and attempt to run away from me down the hills with all the extra weight. I also had to remember I was driving back in the land where fatalities from road accidents are twice those of the UK, my driving location for almost all of the past year. Gone are all those courteous behaviours that had made touring on the roads in the UK so much less stressful, it was back to every driver for themselves and the liberal use of horns and fist shaking. I actually found Italian roads a less daunting prospect to safely navigate than our own testosterone fuelled highways.

So it was with a sigh of unscathed relief we pulled up at our friends property on the outskirts of Berry, a small village 3 hours south of Sydney with a main street packed with deli’s, art and craft shops, classy cafe’s and all things civilised. Their property sits in an enviable position, a kilometre from a nearly 13km long stretch of pristine sand called….Seven Mile Beach (how do they think of such names?) once used as the runway for the first passenger flight between Australia and our Kiwi vowel dropping cousins in New Zealand. For us it made the perfect stretch of hard sand for a beach ride.

Mrs A sky riding on Seven Mile Beach
A picturesque location
Omar, Mr A and Barb plus their loyal steeds

Our friends have created this oasis of a sustainable paradise producing enough fruit and veg to meet all their needs and half the neighbours. They recently won a prize at the very competitive Berry garden show for the way they had planted and arranged the garden in keeping with our often fickle climate with periods of drought, extreme heat and soil stripping winds.

Miss Tassie broke her 9 months of sedentary lifestyle for an hour long explore of their garden
A delicious meal out at a great Indian restaurant in nearby Gerringong

They are the most interesting couple and as always we were sad to have to say goodbye after sharing a couple of fascinating dinners with them. But we have a deadline to work to – we need to be in Melbourne 1300km away by Christmas.

So we headed to our next campsite down the coast just outside the small coastal town of Huskinsson in the Jervis Bay National Park, with its world renowned beaches. We managed to get the kayak wet with a short paddle the river before the winds picked up. Then we had a couple of days of rain that allowed us to spend time inside getting cleared up and organised without feeling guilty we were missing out.

Curranbene Creek
How much do we love kayaking in this boat? A lot!
The beast moored up outside of Huskisson
Paddling back to camp before the headwinds get too strong
Looking out for sting rays in the shallows on our return route
A Percy of pelicans?

Unfortunately our lovely stay was a little tarnished by a very thoughtless family arriving in the cabin next door at gone midnight who then spent the next hour banging car doors time and time again, shouting to each other and their children . I went outside and asked them to please keep the noise down and was greeted with a tirade of “we’ve driven hours to get here and show some respect for others”. The irony was completely lost on this selfish family.

With heavy eyes from a disturbed night we continued our journey southwards to our next camp at the tiny coastal settlement of Dalmeny, and one of the best views from our site we’ve ever had.

A room with a view…

A wander down the beach in the late afternoon sunshine was called for. At 5.30pm it was still a balmy 28 degrees. This is what Australia does best, pristine, empty miles of sand, with nature in abundance. A massive sea eagle lifted up from a tree in front of us and just lumbered out to sea like a B52 heading on a mission to who knows where. Little pied oyster catchers (they don’t as far as I know) skittered around in the sand. We just sat and soaked up the roar of the surf and felt the sun on our backs.

Crossing over Lake Mummuga on the way to the beach
The stunning beach is part of Eurobodalla National Park
Pied oystercatcher foraging at the water’s edge
The water’s quite rough, the result of storms further up the coast. We can see the mist drifting over the beach
The next bay around – not a footstep on the sand

Returning to camp it was time to try out our new BBQ. The old Weber had finally gasped its last after over 10 years of faithful service. This new model delivered a magnificent feast of roast veggies and pork medallions. What is a man without his BBQ? OK so its a bit shiny still, it needs working in, but I’m sure it will get that!

A pristine BBQ cooking up roast veggies and pork medallions – yum!

22 November-11 December: A whirlwind three weeks in Sydney

Author: Mrs A

Location: Sydney, NSW, Australia

With our final Covid-19 tests proving negative, we finally escaped from Howard Springs Quarantine Facility on Sunday 22 November!

The coach to the airport finally leaves the quarantine compound – such a relief to escape!

We flew out of Darwin and back over to Sydney, arriving at a very quiet Sydney airport, and into the waiting arms of our friend Jenny. She whisked us back to her apartment to our lovely abandoned Burmese cat, Princess Tassie. Jenny had generously prepared plates of freshly shucked Coffin Bay oysters and delicious juicy king prawns for us – a first meal back that kept us going through the those final days of captivity. Such a warm and wonderful return.

A purring Tassie, champagne, oysters and prawns – what a wonderful welcome back

The normality of life in Sydney is just amazing. Hardly a mask is to be seen, and although there are signs everywhere encouraging social distancing, with zero community transmitted C19 cases in the whole of New South Wales (2.5 times the size of the British Isles, with about a third of the population) there is no policing of this. While we still are invited to use hand sanitiser in the shops, there is nobody barking at you to insist you do it, and changing rooms are open for trying on clothes.

People are moving back into normality, with hugs given, families reuniting, and as of this weekend, dancing allowed again in pubs and night clubs. To be catapulted into this life of Covid-freeness after our strict mask-wearing two weeks at Howard Springs and the preceding months in the UK, was somewhat surreal, and we absolutely respect the hard lines drawn to enable this to happen.

Our diaries were packed full almost immediately, with catch ups with friends, neighbours and colleagues the perfect antidote to the necessities of dentist, doctor and specialist visits.

Our friends Clive and Aisha cook up a wonderful storm at their Darlinghurst apartment
Step-brother Dan and his fiancée Bec treat us to wine, cheese and nibbles on a hot Sunday evening
Our ferry ride home rewards us with some magnificent sunset skies
Another evening brings us a great catch up with some of Mark’s old CBA friends
Amazing we can eat in restaurants as though there is no pandemic at all!
Our friends Karen and Chris come down for a night from their home in Newcastle…of course there are more bubbles….there’s a lot to celebrate!
A delicious brunch with friends Jenny and David, Chris and Karen
Great food, wine and laughs with more friends – Bill and Olga, David and Michelle, Clive and Aisha at King Street Wharf

Special thanks go to our friends Donna and Andy, and separately Rosemary and Richard who prepared delicious meals for us at their homes – we feel so blessed to have such generous friends who are also fabulous cooks!

In addition to wining and dining with friends, we made the most of the fine weather with some walks around the Harbour and coast. After our two weeks of incarceration, the freedom to roam was simply wonderful, the air clean and clear with no fires so far this season.

Our first walk was a decent 20km hike, part of the 80km Bondi to Manly walk, which we started from Rose Bay (walk map).

A brief tea break in the shade to admire the wonderful view across Sydney Harbour
It’s hard to beat the Harbour beaches on a stunning late spring morning
Sydney’s distinctive city skyline
Lunch was fish and chips at Doyles at Watsons Bay, after which we kept following the coast
More rewarding views
Rainbow lorikeets accompany us on our cliff edge walk
We concluded our long walk with a refreshing paddle in the water at a busy Bondi Beach…it’s good to be back!

We’ve also enjoyed some beautiful scenery around the less well frequented Botany Bay National Park, loving the early summer flora, much of which is unique to this area.

A short walk to Maroubra beach with friend ,Karen
David joins us for an explore around the rocky shores of Malabar Headland
Our friend Bill takes us on a tour around his favourite parts of Neutral Bay and Cremorne, joined by Tilly the dog

We learned that there is a coastal walk that goes from Maroubra around to Coogee Beach. From there you could follow the coast all the way round to Manly, making for quite an impressive long distance walk. We drove the 5 minutes down to the beach from Jenny and David’s apartment and set off – walking one way to Coogee and catching the bus back to the car after brunch in a beachside cafe. Very civilised!

Spectacular scenery on the little known Maroubra to Coogee coast walk…can you spot the kookaburra?

At the other end of Maroubra Beach is Maroubra Headland, with a stunning circuit walk through native bush land, simply teeming with birds. New Holland honeyeaters, fairy wrens, fire tails, wattle birds and nankeen kestrels fill the air with their flitting, swooping and hovering. The walk is not always open, and in fact often at the weekend you cannot even attempt it due to a shooting range located there. Given the luxury of time, we walked it mid-week (walk map).

The sparkling waters and soft sands of a deserted Maroubra Beach make for a great starting point
The vibrant golden banksia flowers make a stark contrast to the deep blue of the ocean

We finished off our time in Sydney with a hike around Henry Head. The walking paths of this circuit hike have only been finished in the past couple of years, starting from La Perouse on the shores of Botany Bay (walk map).

The pristine waters of Botany Bay – it’s hard to believe these were the colour of tea this time last year, stained by the burning bush land
And breathe…the greens and blues of tranquility
A tea break down at Browns Rock, a picturesque fishing location
The 1800s fort up at Henry Head is now used by street artists – some with more talent than others
Cape Banks – the Westpac Rescue Helicopter is off on a training mission
Concluding our walk at Little Congwong Beach – described as one of the most beautiful beach oases in Sydney

As we reached the end of our time in Sydney we treated Jenny to an oyster appetiser for our final night with her, surprising her on her return from a full on day at work with a glass of wine.

Thank you again Jenny and David, for caring for Tassie while we travelled and your never ending generosity 💛

And then we were off, back on the road heading south to Nowra to collect our caravan, kayak and bikes. Tassie has to get used to having a few hours less sleep a day and an ever changing scene outside the window. We get the feeling she doesn’t mind that much!

Adventure cat is back on the road….farewell Sydney – we’ll see you again in January!

6 November: Our last day in the UK, walking a locked down London

Author: Mr A

Location: The Paddington Hilton, London

Its our last day in the UK. we fly back to Australia tomorrow. Rarely have we felt so conflicted. We are going to miss so much about being here in the UK, and yet we’re have so much to look forward to when we get back to Sydney after our quarantine in Darwin.

So with the day to ourselves, we decided to lace up our walking boots for one last jaunt in the autumnal sunshine. A cold snap had obliged us by providing a last chance to get rugged up, feel our cheeks cold in the wind, and smell the fallen leaves as they accumulate in piles, just urging to be kicked.

The deserted streets of London’s first day of the second national lockdown gave us plenty of elbow room to explore.

We walked from our hotel, adjacent to Paddington Station (chosen to give us easy access to the Heathrow Express in the morning) and headed over to the Thames via Hyde Park and Chelsea, admiring the rows of luxury cars that lined the mews and the boutiques all shut up.

Our walk map
As most trees are losing their leaves, some in London are already coming into bud as though spring is imminent
The quiet streets around Paddington
The Italian Gardens – built in 1860 – their fountains one of our first sights as we enter Hyde Park
A coot in the Italian Gardens
An amazing sky this morning – these are apparently altocumulus clouds, and predict fair weather
Looking down towards Serpentine Bridge
Action shot of the swan photography session
A feisty swan on The Serpentine in Hyde Park
Fabulous autumn shades in Hyde Park

Some of the cavalry even turned out to see us off, which was nice.

A little bit of training in progress
Some of these fresh faced lads looked like they should be at school
Past Imperial College, the Science Museum and Natural History Museums…the roads deserted
The Natural History Museum is a magnificent building
We even made it to Sydney sooner than expected…ah-hem….

From Chelsea we crossed over the Albert Bridge and across to Battersea Park, where we enjoyed freshly filled vegan baguettes in the rose garden.

Albert Bridge – a cable suspension bridge originally built here in 1873
The Peace Pagoda was presented to Londoners in 1984
The tennis courts are closed due to the lockdown, but some lads manage to create their own space to play
The Chelsea Bridge is relatively new, having opened in 1937 to replace a previous bridge
Crunching through the autumn leaves – a great opportunity to relive the sounds, smells and experiences of your childhood!

Then it was all the way down to Westminster Palace with armed police everywhere as the terror threat status is “severe”, before then heading back via St James Park.

Strolling along the Thames Path
Looking across the River Thames towards the Nine Elms district and the new US Embassy building (opened December 2017). It looks equally impressive internally according to the embassy website..
Vauxhall Bridge
Westminster from the Victoria Tower Gardens, the Buxton Memorial in the foreground which commemorated 200 years since the abolition of slavery

We headed back through St. James’s Park, giving Buckingham Palace a wave as we then headed back across to Hyde Park. Just under 19km (12 miles) though some of the tourist highlights of London, and hardly a soul to be seen. Brilliant.

A European white pelican in St. James’s Park – it is tinged pink in mating season. They apparently have been known to fly into London Zoo for a feed of fish before returning back to the park! There have been pelicans in the park since some were first gifted by the Russian Ambassador in 1664
Plenty of grey squirrels in St James’s Park – hiding up trees from the multitude of small dogs that love to chase them
Buckingham Palace – if the royal standard is flying it means the Queen is home – with no breeze we cannot tell which flag is hoisted
Looking down St. James’s Park Lake towards Dover House (1750s) and the London Eye peering over the trees
Such space and greenery in central London
The final walk across Hyde Park
Bathurst Mews, back in Paddington, with its cobbled streets looking frozen in time

We have had plenty of time to reflect on what we will miss and what we are looking forward to. If I had to pick the top three on each list it would be as follows:

So what will we miss? Well the majority of our “blood family” is here, on a time time zone that makes it harder to connect on line when we go back. It’s not that we have been able to actually spend heaps of time with them, given the constraints of the various restrictions we have had, but the time that we have has been brilliant.

Secondly we will miss the changes that the seasons bring. The colours, the smells, the sounds, even here in the city the autumnal colours are spectacular in the parks. The different feel you get walking in the varying temperatures and weather, the coziness of turning up your collar against a chill wind. We just feel more engaged with the natural world watching everything change.

Finally, and we have talked together about this a lot, we will miss the feeling we get of having more values in common with the Brits. The courtesy shown by drivers, or service providers, pretty much everybody has a please or thank you, or sorry in their sentence. It just feels…nice. There’s no pushing and shoving, no macho aggressive behaviour. It just feels good.

However, Australia beckons with our “adopted family” and lovely fur child, our joint number one on the list of what’s pulling us back. They have been the people who we have spent such a chunk of our lives with, in Catherine‘s case, most of her adult life. There are going to be some wonderful reunions, some long lunches and even longer dinners!

And yes it will also be lovely to be able to sit outside in the evenings, there haven’t been many times we have done that over here. There’s just something so wonderful about being able to extend your outdoor time right though the dark hours especially when there’s a pile of freshly shucked Sydney Rock oysters close at hand, and chilled bottle of something crisp to wash them down.

Finally, it is those great wild open deserted spaces, whether they be miles of brilliant white sand on a beach, or the endless eucalyptus forests stretching to the horizon. The emptiness is just so serene, although this year I think it will be tougher to find the quiet spots with everyone staycationing in Australia.

It‘s worrying to leave friends and family here, given the transmission rates, especially since we wont be able to easily get back should there be a problem, but we really have no good option of where to stay. So it’s on that plane tomorrow we go.

Thanks again to all our family and friends here who have made this trip, even in these tough times, so memorable. It has been such an eye opener for us to see three seasons come and go in this beautiful country. To feel the joy of reconnecting with family, and to eat properly cooked fish and chips, which is what we are about to do now as our “Last Supper” 🙂

PS. We both just heard – both negative for Covid-19 – we’re definitely off tomorrow!

Hurrah…long may it continue to be this way!

7-10 October: The Peak District here we come…

Author: Mr A

Location: Tittesworth Resevoir, & The Winking Man, Staffordshire, Mam Tor, Buxton and Castleton, Derbyshire, UK

The impromptu days are often the best, and our dash up to the Peak District from Shropshire was a great example of that. We drove past a large reservoir and decided it looked like a top location for a spot of lunch and a bit of a leg stretch. The weather brightened up, the forest was giving off that freshly rained on perfume. and we just had to keep walking (8.5km circuit – map).

Tittesworth Reservoir near Leek in Staffordshire
A cool start soon warms up as the sun emerges
A perfect autumnal walk
Some more signs of early autumn
A stream weaving its way through a woodland copse

Half way round and we came across a couple, one using a wheelchair, who were struggling up a steep bit of path. So we gave them a bit of a hand, and we ended up chatting and walking the rest of the way with these two absolutely delightful people. At 91 years of age, Derek was determined to get round a walk that the majority of the folk there that day clearly hadn’t attempted, ably assisted by the super strong and fit Rosie. Now I admit to never having tried to push a wheelchair up a hill, and when I did, I was even more admiring of Rosie’s prowess behind the chair!

Here they come – always smiling and ever determined
Crossing the dam wall – a peaceful outlook
Dam(n), this is a lovely walk
Looking up towards Derbyshire
The Roaches – rocks popular with climbers on the horizon
Climbing of a different kind – Rosie helps Derek up the steps while I bring the wheelchair
Finally a flat path!
Wetlands – great for a spot of birdwatching

They were such great company, and it really made our day to share theirs. We gave our farewells, and headed off to a pub we were going to park at for the night, intriguingly called The Winking Man (spelled carefully).

We were just looking at the drinks menu when I noticed one of the barmaids having an animated conversation on the phone, and glancing over our way and smiling. Odd I thought..what have I done now? it was Rosie and Derek. They had remembered the name of the pub we were going to and were ringing to buy us a bottle of wine to thank us for the help that afternoon. What a kind thought and action. In these difficult times, such gestures mean even more to us. Sometimes we do feel disconnected from community and friends. A moment like this reminds us the potential for friendship is all around us.

Thank you so much Rosie and Derek – we thought of you as we enjoyed this malbec
A foggy start to our journey up into the Peak District the following morning

The next day, with finally a rain free forecast, we headed over to do one of the Peak District’s classic walks, the circuit around Man Tor (map). I must have done this in the Scouts, we were up in that area regularly, but it was all fresh to me this time. The incredible views across a landscape so deeply green it looked unreal. Despite the cold northerly wind there were a few people about, but as usual once away from the car park the numbers really thinned out.

The cloud starts to lift, shining sun on the surrounding hills
We didn’t spend long up on top of Mam Tor
Just enough time to admire the patchwork of fields below us
The cairn on top of the Tor makes a good tripod since it is too cold and windy to use Catherine’s
Skipping off to lower ground (and slightly warmer temperatures out of the icy wind)
There has been a lot of rain here, and we’re grateful we’ve stumbled upon a dry morning for our hike
The shades of green are all encompassing
Heading down into the valley
A pair of old stone gate posts
We follow an old broken road which collapsed in a landslide. We hope nobody was driving on it at the time. It had potholes almost as big as those in Nottinghamshire roads
So much walking to be done in this area

The blemish on the day came when Catherine noticed her two week old Salomon boots were already starting to come apart at the joins, so a few phone calls later and we were off to Buxton to post them back to the retailer. Now, some towns just create a poor first impression, and then get worse. So this was Buxton. From a car park machine that made us pay a premium rate for a day (in coins) when we needed an hour, to the complete disinterest in enticing us to buy anything in the shops we visited. We tried to find somewhere that looked appealing for lunch, gave up and left and made our way over to our campsite just outside Castleton.

Breathing a sigh of relief as we leave Buxton and drive through roads that look like this

What a drive over it was, as the unfenced road wound down through the hills. Not a quiet road though. This is definitely an area to explore off peak. Even now its super busy, our campsite completely full. I can’t imagine what school holidays were like trying to get around. No wonder there seemed a higher proportion than usual of irate drivers.

The next day (Friday) was another wet one, so we decided we would just stay local. I volunteered to head into the local bakery to equip us for a bacon and egg brekky – I’m all altruism. Hot out of the oven I was sold a crusty “white bap” (how many words are there in the English language for a loaf? Even Google didn’t know that) – what a lovely start to the day.

It kept getting better, when we wandered into dinky Casterton and found four outdoor shops! A beanie and warm gloves were purchased for me. Things are cooling down here pretty rapidly, evidenced by the fact that we had several freezing hailstorms batter us. We did see though see many walking signposts through the village, a hiking mecca’s this place and somewhere we really want to come back to.

Castleton is still pretty in the rain
It’s all starting to look quite autumnal

But for today the only thing to do was to retire to one of the six pubs we noticed in the space of a few hundred metres! We got chatting to the folk on the next table, as you do in an English pub. We have so missed that. Europe was wonderful last year, but without the local language it was hard to engage.

We emerge from The Castle to bright sunshine but with the next heavy cloud forever looming

With heavy downpours predicted, and Catherine devoid of walking boots after having to return hers, we headed back to Truffy and some lazy time with music and books. Perfect..but not quite purrrrfect ….without Miss Tassie to warm our laps 🙁

This has been an all too brief dalliance with the Peak District – “We’ll BeBack”

5-6 October: We abandon Wales and head back to England

Author: Mrs A

Location: Aberaeron, Wales and Stiperstones, Shropshire, UK

Determined to try and hike more of the Wales Coast Path, we left New Quay and drove a short way up the coast to just north of Aberaeron, a small holiday town. The worst of Storm Alex seemed to have now passed, and we thought it would be good to see a new area. Unfortunately the weather continued to rage against us, and as we pulled up at a coastal car park, the wind was howling and the rain driving hard at an angle straight off the sea.

Our view of the beach and coast walk…not looking too tempting!

We warmed up some soup on the stove and watched as determined dog walkers braved the elements, leaning into the wind with their hounds, only to return sodden shortly later, and bundle themselves and their wet mutts into cars and drive off. It didnt look appealing.

We studied the weather forecast for the coming week, the radar showing a slow moving front of rain hanging over the whole of Wales for the foreseeable future. We could see a lot more indoor time ahead if we didn’t change our plans.

So we looked at the map. At the western edge of England, bordering Wales, was a little known (to us) county of Shropshire. In many ways, all we knew of Shropshire was what it is not: not quite Wales, not quite the North, no cities, no motorways, no coastline. This landlocked county seemed to be quite the antidote to a wet and windy Welsh clifftop, and an ideal spot to regroup and plan our next week.

My eyes were immediately drawn to one area – the Shropshire Hills Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB). An area full of walks and views (if the weather is good). I found a pub with good reviews that allowed motorhomes to park overnight, located in a tiny village. We pointed Truffy’s nose east and hit the road.

Weaving our way down some picturesque green tunnels in the rain

Before long, we pulled into the carpark of The Stiperstones Inn in the village of Stiperstones. We popped our heads into the lounge bar, and were greeted by a welcoming masked smiling face, a roaring log fire and a menu listing several interesting dairy-free meals. Perfect! We booked in for dinner, seated by the flames, enjoying our first decent meal out in a long time.

Originally two cottages and a blacksmith, this was converted to a pub in the mid 1800s
A roaring fire and a glass of malbec just what we needed on this cold wet day

Stiperstones is named after rock formation on top of the hill that overlooks the village. The nature reserve is covered in silvery grey quartzite rocks, shattered into distinctive jagged tors and surrounded by a jumble of rocks that were broken up by continuous freezing and thawing during the last ice age. Chatting with Sophie, our lovely barmaid, she told us where best to start the hike up.

“Walk down to the dingles, and take the right dingle all the way up.” We were intrigued!

Our barmaid was quite tickled by our amusement with the use of dingle. I had to Google it: a deep, narrow cleft between hills; shady dell. A little used but valid term.

So after a peaceful night’s sleep in the pub car park, we walked down the road to find the dingles. Not to be confused with dangles.

The two dingles – we’re careful to take the right one
Climbing up – after all the rain the footpath looks more like a stream
We’re pleased we had hill training in the Quantocks
The cloud breaks revealing some lovely autumnal golden browns and oranges in the leaves and bracken below
Colours that remind us of Scotland as the sun highlights hills in the distance
The cloud starts to descend, and brief views disappear
Up on top of the hills it is several degrees colder, and as the cloud drops and the wind picks up we quickly add on clothes
Sheltering behind a rock known as the Devil’s Chair in the driving rain for a cup of tea
Mr A is disappearing alongside the Devil’s Chair

You’d have thought we were the only people up there, but no, there were other nutters braving the wild and unpredictable weather. The first people were a group of geography students with their teacher, learning about the geology of the area on a field trip. Then we came across two more couples walking dogs through the deluge of sideways rain, wind and fog. In all cases, each party laughed at the predicament in which we found ourselves. Mad dogs and English folk.

Strangely, we loved the erratic elements. The fog swirling around, obscuring the views, before suddenly clearing to reveal a far off hillside or field highlighted by a break in the cloud, bright sunshine making the greens almost fluorescent in the surrounding gloom. And it is all about wearing the right clothes. We layered ourselves up in fleeces, waterproof trousers and coats, hats…and changed as necessary to suit the conditions.

The path along the top is quite slippery, strewn with large rocks, shiny and wet in the rain
As we reach Stiperstones, the sun emerges quickly from behind a cloud and lights it up as though it’s highlighting a feature for us
The sun moved on to highlighting the hills in the distance – bright flashes of green and yellow before they disappear into the cloud again
We were apparently walking on the Shropshire Way

We gradually climbed back down off the hills, opting to take quiet lanes on our return walk to the pub. A great taster of the area.

We admit being very tempted by returning to the pub for lunch beside that roaring fire, but we decided to pack up and move on to our campsite for the night.. There our little Aldi fan heater was put to work drying everything off before another peaceful evening.

1-4 October: Storm Alex pays us a visit…

Author: Mr A

Location: Cliff top near New Quay, mid Wales coast, Ceredigion, UK

We had picked this next camp site because of its location right next to the “Wales Coast Path:”, another long distance path with 1,600km available to put one foot in front of the other and contemplate the natural world in all its glory. Unfortunately that evening Storm Alex paid Europe a visit, and despite Brexit, thought he would cross the Channel and give the Brits a bit of what for.

Not much chance of catching any viruses on this camp site!

Well we had a rocking and rolling night, even with our hydraulic legs down and trying to anchor us, our location on the edge of a cliff in the direct path of the winds gave us a troubled night, then day, then night, then another day. For two and a half days we were confined to the 2 square metres of Truffy floor, as gusts of over 80kph blasted across our very desolate looking field. So my fellow inmate and I sucked it up and did our time in an area about the size of a third world prison cell. A good reminder of what having our freedom to roam really means.

A Friday sheltering from the rain…much tea drunk…
Our view obscured by raindrops
Our nearest neighbours look a little nervous as we emerge from Truffy!

Its now over three years since we took to the road, and became what the UK tax office defines as “vehicle dwellers’, that is people who for whatever reason primarily live in a caravan, motorhome or the back seat of their car. We have been back into our house for two 6 weeks spells, done a couple of house sits, and rented for a few months in lockdown, but we have no “home” we can access in situations like this when the weather turns rough, or lockdowns happen. Its something we have learnt to deal with, and it has changed our view, I think, of what “home” actually is. I came across this quote from a songwriter I have just started listening to, Amanda Shires. She said “Home is being content with yourself wherever you are”. I put her song “You Are My Home” on my September playlist (click here or search Spotify for ‘Mr A’s September favs’), a bit of a fun thing I started doing in lockdown to share with friends every month what we have been listening to on Spotify. As she sings in one verse:

“You are my home,

Wherever you go

Anywhere that you stand,

Is my piece of land,

You are my home.”

Amanda Shires, You are my home

And that sums it up. Wherever Catherine is, that‘s my home (it‘s just missing our beautiful Burmese Miss Tassie!).

The very lucky Mrs A

Thankfully the storm finally passed and we were able to venture out along the cliff top walk into the small sea side town of New Quay (not to be confused with the much bigger and glitzier Newquay in Cornwall). No one could accuse this one of being glitzy.

Looking north towards Aberaeron where the coastline gets a lot more lumpy
A few boats strewn on the beach behind the harbour wall. None have gone out lately due to the storm
We wonder whether there has been a special deal on paint agreed in this small town with its brightly coloured homes
Climbing up the highstreet

The setting was stunning, with the Welsh hills framing a perfectly curved bay, but the town itself was pretty down at heel, so after a very ordinary Sunday roast (looked like a school dinner) we smartly moved on back to camp and walked a little way down the coast in the other direction.

Lots of groundwater after the torrential downpours, the fields are saturated
The Wales Coast Path/Ceredigion Coast Path
A little dunnock sits on a branch surveying the world, probably having had to shelter for the past couple of days
Looking south down the coast. You can see the path winding its way over the cliff tops and valleys
The bright yellow gorse still flowering here, in stark contrast to the dark skies
Hungry birds hunting, again probably had a couple of days without food, unable to fly in the gusty winds
Shades of blue as we look to the silvery horizon

A lookout gave us 180 degree views, but the dolphins we had booked sadly didn’t show. A kestrel did though, hanging upside down intently watching for a late afternoon snack, perhaps hungry after several days of what we would think would be impossible flying conditions, even for these masters of aeronautical acrobatics.

Its such a relief to finally stretch our legs after the enforced confinement, and the Welsh Coast Path is clearly something we need to explore further!

Finally we get to see a sunset

30 September -1 October: Pootling around Porthgain

Author: Mrs A

Location: Porthgain, Pembrokeshire, UK

It was a very short drive to our next location, the tiny village of Porthgain on the west coast. I had read on one of our travel apps, about a motorhome parking spot with power and water available opposite the pub, and as we pulled in, we were relieved to find that nobody had nabbed it before us.

Porthgain hasn’t changed a great deal over the years, having had its heyday in the late 1800s and early 1900s, with a huge slate sawmill and exporting cut slate from the harbour on steam ships. Later the factory changed to creating slate bricks, and then stone for road surfacing. These days people visit predominantly to access the coast path, and they are well serviced (for such a small place) with a fish restaurant (with great reviews), art gallery, ice cream shop (closed. for the winter) and a pub, The Sloop Inn.

Large brick structures dominate the harbour, and are the first thing you see as you enter. These are known as hoppers, and were used to store crushed stone before shipping. They are now protected against change as important historical buildings (Scheduled National Monument).

The brick hoppers are covered in ivy and barred against entry

We had a look around the harbour and art gallery, which sells paintings and prints from local and Welsh artists, and booked into the pub for dinner. It’s been a while between dinners out, and quite exciting to have someone else do the cooking and cleaning up for us!

Look carefully on the right hand side of the central shed, and you will see Truffy tucked in beside an old fishing hut
A photo of the harbour from the early 1900s when it was a busy port shipping out slate
The Sloop Inn, established in 1743. An example of a slate brick wall as you enter.
Scampi and chips for me – reminding me of childhood New Year’s Eve dinners with my cousins! Mark had a roast lamb from the proprietor’s farm

We had a delicious meal, and throughout the evening managed to chug our way through a whole bottle of wine – unheard of for us these days! As with most establishments, the only place we were allowed to not wear a mask was at the table – any movement around the pub was discouraged, and then only while masked up. We got the feeling that not all of the waiting staff were used to serving customers at the table.

Some of the houses are brightly coloured here

The following morning was clear and bright so we decided to take advantage and head off on a hike along the cliff tops before we moved on to our next location. The sun is rising around 7.30am so by the time we got walking at 8.15am the sun was not too high and the light just delightful.

Looking south towards the stone pillar marking the entrance to the harbour
We head north, where another marker glows in the morning light

There is a huge amount of human history along this coast, with incredible views. We passed a standing stone, and concluded our walk at the Llwynog Arian Stone Circle, where we sat on a fallen stone and enjoyed a cup of tea, admiring the views. The stone circle had only 11 stones, rather than the usual 12. I assumed some vandals had rolled one off the cliff, but legend has it that a Welsh giant (Owain of Trefin) had tossed the 12th stone to the nearby headland, and that was the solitary standing stone we had come across.

A cairn built by hikers…we added our stones
Almost an island – this was once the headland, and is now a refuge for seals and seabirds
Another piece of spectacular coastline
The path winds along the clifftop with incredible views at every turn
Wishing we didn’t have to stop
A very special coastline on a day like this
Is this the stone the giant tossed?

Reluctantly we turned around and headed back to Truffy. We needed to buy more food supplies and had booked onto a camp site up the coast for the night.

Heading back

We spotted more seals, including some bright white pups left high and dry by the retreating tide. They looked so helpless lying there amongst the seaweed and rock, watched over by curious seagulls, their mothers calling out from the water below.

We could see for miles on this clear day
The last of the yellow gorse flowers are blooming on the headland
Back in Porthgain Harbour to wash our boots off on the beach

It was a short visit, but very special. Porthgain was a friendly little village with an authentic feel, touched with history. We drove off with the cloud steadily increasing during the afternoon. Another wet and wild storm is approaching the British Isles, so we feel pleased we made the most of the good weather while we could.

28-30 September: Pembrokeshire coast path – walks from Caerfai Bay

Author: Mr A

Location: Caerfai Bay, St Davids, Pembrokeshire, Wales, UK

A short drive along this magnificent Pembrokeshire coast brought us to our new home for the next three nights, high up on the cliffs overlooking the calm waters of St.Brides Bay. By lunch time a bag of washing is done and hung out, an egg and bacon brunch (well it was Sunday) laid down to fortify us for a hike along the coast (walk link).

Not a bad view for a couple of nights
Looking left (east) from camp

Do we turn left or right? This was the toughest decision of the day. Left won out and we headed east along our first chunky section of the Pembrokeshire Coast path. At 299km long, this is another tremendous asset that has been hard fought for over the years by community groups negotiating with hundreds of landowners to get a continuous path for all to enjoy. This path also connects with the 1,400 kilometre Welsh Coast Path. Could you ever run out of walking destinations in the UK?

As we headed out along the cliff top, it became immediately evident that nature is clearly still in charge here, with massive land slips, deeply eroded bays, and plants and trees shaped by the wind.

The sediments are visible on this rugged coastline
People were swimming in this little bay, without wetsuits! The water is at its warmest right now, at 15°C
Looking out over the Celtic Sea

We watched a seal in the clear water far below us hunting for lunch, its shining spotty white belly briefly exposed when coming up for air before resuming the chase. Mrs A then spotted a bird rare to the UK, with only around 300 breeding pairs, a member of the crow family called a chough. So excited, she emitted a (unusual for her) squeal of delight!

Seal spotting on the clifftop
A pair of choughs – distinctive red beaks and legs – they particularly like insects and their larvae, so here were hunting down the crane flies that were hatching out on this warm afternoon

At our turn round point we looked out over an unusual topography, and with a bit of help from Dr Google, realised we were looking at the highly eroded remains of an Iron Age fort (so around 2-2,500 years old). You cannot escape from the deep history that is everywhere around you in this country. Even at the westerly edge of the British Isles, the waves of invasions, rebellions, migrations, assimilations, and recurring nationalism, are evident all around us. We can feel this is going to be a rewarding foray into a country we both know so little about.

Porth y Rhaw Iron Age Fort
Many lightly salted blackberries were enjoyed…and the last of the wild roses blooming amongst the brambles

Well, with the sun going down behind the off shore islands, it was time to retrace our steps along the cliff top and settle in for another night of splendid social isolation in Truffy.

Delicate shades of peach and primrose flush the sky as the sun sets

Our second day here was less energetic, with drizzly rain and very poor visibility. It was a short walk up the road from the campsite to the UK’s smallest city, St Davids. A quick look at the cathedral for Catherine, where the bones of the patron saint of Wales (yes…St David) are buried (walk link).

St Davids Cathedral – a surprise in such a small village – at first you don’t see it, then passing under an arch suddenly it appears, huge, in the valley below you!
A magnificent oak ceiling in the great nave has carvings of castles and paired dolphins – no religious symbolism at all. The cathedral was founded by St David (then a monk) in the middle of the sixth century. It is one of the oldest episcopal sees in Britain.
Carved stone arches
Another lovely ceiling
A lovely poem about St Davids (Dewi is Welsh for David) by Welsh Poet, Siôn Aled Owen
Despite the gloomy day, a glow at sunset suggests there might be a better day ahead
Sunrise promises exciting things too
The sky is on fire

We felt a little cheated at the lack of opportunity to turn right along the cliff after yesterday’s poor weather, so seeing a better forecast, and seeing such a glorious dawn, we headed out early (for us) in the other direction.

There are still showers out at sea, but the skies remain clear for us
We start off wrapped up warm, but are soon stripping off the layers
A cheerful robin sings us a beautiful tune as we pass by
More eroded rock sculptures await us at every turn

It became obvious after an hour‘s walking that this was a stretch of path that was something special, with dizzyingly stunning views. So I called the campsite and booked us in for another night. This is the joy of travelling off peak – the flexibility to be spontaneous when everything doesn’t have to be booked weeks in advance.

Just love the rock sculptures and colours as we enter Porthclais Harbour
Porthclais Harbour – the colours here are delicious!
A ridiculously picturesque coastline
Always take a moment to stop, breathe and enjoy where you are
Sometimes the path ahead got a little crowded, but generally all were quite good at distancing…

We just didn’t want to stop walking. Looking at the map, we saw we would be heading out along a peninsula that would bring us quite close back to St Davids, so we agreed to keep going and take a chance we could get a bus or taxi into the village (oops, city).

It was glorious weather, Pembrokeshire was showing off her early autumn glory. The bracken was turning a more golden brown, the heather flowers were largely gone, the remaining blackberries plump and almost over ripe, but especially with no lunch or breakfast with us, absolutely delicious. A small apple each was all we had with us, but what a spot to sink our teeth into them.

Where else would you sit and enjoy tea and fruit?

After a few hours we had only seen a couple of other walkers, then a couple told us there were seals around in the next bay. Their plaintive calls echoed around the cliffs, mums calling to their pups and vice versa.

Playful adult seals
Look carefully and you will see a white seal pup stranded up on a rock, patiently awaiting the return of its parents for a feed
Around the corner, another seal mum is able to feed her pup as she left it accessible on the beach

We watched them for ages, spellbound as they occasionally seemed to look up at us on the cliffs above them. “What are they staring at?” framed in a bubble over their flickering whiskers.

Our destination, Whitesands Beach, overlooked by Carn Llidi…we decided we needed to conclude our hike by climbing this…
We look back at the coastline we have followed over the past few hours
Feeling quite pleased with ourselves – our longest day-walk yet and we still have energy to spare
Click on the map to access the walk in Strava

What a perfect day. We walked, we talked, we laughed, and we gazed in wonderment. What more can you ask?

26-27 September: The beautiful scenery of Stackpole Estate

Author: Mrs A

Location: St Petrox and Stackpole Estate, Pembrokeshire, Wales, UK

We arrived at our campsite behind an old Norman church in the village of St Petrox just after lunch. We’d chosen the location because of its proximity to Stackpole Estate, a large National Trust owned area of outstanding beauty. Finally the rain had moved on to England, leaving us with patches of blue in the sky and calmer weather.

As we set off to walk down there we realised there was no safe route to it – and walking on narrow, windy roads with traffic seemingly in a big hurry did not appeal. We turned off down a quieter lane and resolved to visit the estate the next day. Our afternoon’s stroll took us around four little villages, each with an old church, with at least part dating back to the 13th century.

Our first glimpse of the Pembrokeshire coast in the distance across the fields
Arriving at St Twynnells, the next village – this church dates from 1259
A colourful patchwork of hedgerow lined fields. Up on the hill, a tower
St Petrox in our sights on the horizon as we loop around

We have been predominantly using our own on board facilities for showering, and this Friday night was no different. I decided to wash my hair, and was literally covered from head to toe in bubbles when the water stopped. Not a single drip emerged from the shower. I tried the tap. Nothing. The water pump had broken. Mark dashed over to the campground showers to check they were functioning, and warm (our campsite was quite ‘rustic’ to say the least). I then made a semi streak, dripping wet and shivering to rinse off. One of the least glamorous moments of our travels…and thank goodness we were camping somewhere with showers – that is not always the case!

The following morning, Mr A rang a mobile caravan repairer who said he would come sometime during the day, with half an hour’s notice. He arrived early afternoon, and within 20 minutes we had a new pump and he was off.

The sun was shining, so we quickly packed up Truffy and drove the short way over to Stackpole National Trust Estate and parked up there.

The strangely named Stackpole was named after the earliest confirmed ’owner’ of the estate, Elidyr de Stackpole in 1188, but history of human use goes back much further than this. The estate has literally millenia of history, with the oldest human evidence being a standing stone erected as a meeting place for people more than 5,000 years ago. The whole estate, now run by the National Trust, has a very special feel about it. The multitude of environments, from lakes and woodlands, to sand dunes, cliffs and beaches, are home to all manner of bird and animal life, and even on this fairly busy Saturday afternoon we spotted herons, moorhens, and a bright turquoise kingfisher on one of the lakes.

Residents of Stackpole Court (a house that was dismantled in the 1960s) had worked extensively on landscaping the grounds, with the spring-fed lakes and woodland walks dating back to 1777. They are now heritage listed and have been maintained by the Trust since the 1970s, and incredibly beautiful.

A ‘wet-edge’ pond creates a mirror-like reflection
A perfect woodland walkway beside the lakes
Four cygnets taking time for grooming at the water’s edge

A limestone bridge with eight arches spans a weir between two of the lakes, also heritage listed.

The eight-arch bridge linked Stackpole Court with Stackpole Quay and farm

Winding our way around the lakes and over bridges, we eventually emerged on Broadhaven South Beach.

In contrast to the carefully designed and sculptured woodland and lakes, this was beautifully natural and wild, untouched headlands lined with steep rocky cliffs and caves, soft white sand beach bordered by windswept dunes. A short way out in the bay sits the aptly named Church Rock.

A first view of the beach and rock
Plenty of space on this beach
What a stunning location – especially on this glorious day
We find a sunny, sheltered spot for a sit down with a cup of tea
A beautiful bay

We followed the Pembrokeshire Coast Path up along the cliffs, before moving inland to Stackpole Warren, an area of sand dunes, and also the location of the standing stone. There have been found fossilised hoof prints and plough markings dating back to the Bronze age.

The steep cliffs leading to Stackpole Head

It’s definitely an area we could have spent more time exploring, but we had a bit of a weather deadline. We knew we had a four or five day window of fine conditions ahead of us in which to enjoy more of the Pembrokeshire coastline before colder, wetter and windier autumn weather would hit Wales. We packed up and moved on the following morning.