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.

Windswept on the Royal Mile, Edinburgh

It’s been a few years since we last explored this friendly city, and (although some of the local residents could have done with subtitles) it was great to see new things. After a morning of Mr A satisfying his outdoor shop addiction, we attended a tour of one of the ‘underground streets’ of Edinburgh, a 1600s laneway which had been compulsory purchased and used as foundations in the 1700s to create a new indoor marketplace.


The Real Mary King Close – named after Mary King, a fabric merchant who built her own business after her husband’s death, a tour of the close is brought to life by one of the costumed character tour guides. Image source: Forever Edinburgh

The history was fascinating, and it was incredible exploring the low ceilinged rooms and even seeing the hand printed walls still preserved after all these years. It was presented in a somewhat theatrical way, with our guide dressed up and performing as though she was a resident from the lane which distracted a little from the interesting stories.

Dinner was at Sen, a little independent Vietnamese in the University Quarter. The food and menu was so delicious and interesting, we decided to book in for the following week too!

6 July: Another day, another flight

And so off we went to our ultimate destination, the Orkney Islands. It was a quick flight from Edinburgh to Kirkwall, and then a 10 minute taxi ride to our accomodation. The aerial views as we crossed the archipelago were magnificent, with turquoise waters lapping on white sandy beaches. The only thing missing was woodland. We could see the islands stretching across into the horizon, with barely a tree in sight.

A patchwork of greens to greet us

Our first impression of Kirkwall was somewhat grey and unremarkable. The majority of houses are single storey bungalows, or semi-detached, looking like they are on a 1970s council housing estate. Most have been rendered with pebble-dash, and together with the grey skies, and icy-cold July wind, made for a not-so good first impression.

We had dinner in town, the first of many dishes of hand-dived scallops, a speciality the Orkneys are famous for, and met our group guide at 9.30pm for a quick update on the plan for the following morning.

Delicious!

7 July: 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.

Threatening skies on our ferry journey
In between the gloomy skies, glimpses of sunshine turning the water into glittering diamonds

Once there, we drove up to the north of the island, where we parked up, donned our backpacks and took off on a hike.

There was little else around us, the occasional farmhouse and plenty of cattle and sheep. No other people to be seen.

A cuddly looking calf watches on curiously as we walk past

I was carrying my telephoto lens on this walk, so was hopeful for no rain. We had been told this was a great nesting area for seabirds, including Arctic Tern, Northern Gannet, Common Guillemot, Kittiwake and the much anticipated Atlantic Puffin.

Arctic Skuas, known as the pirates of the coast, soared along the coastline, ready to thieve the freshly caught fish from other birds.

We followed the coastline, seeing that breeding season was in full swing, with birds perched precariously along the cliff side with their young looking small and vulnerable with the huge drop below.

Northern Fulmar – Rarely seen from land except at colonies such as this – the male is beaded with water droplets, fresh from catching fish for his 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
Getting ready for take-off
Just bobbing
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.

Looking up at the fisherman’s huts
Sand Geo, our picturesque lunch spot
A non highland cow using a bull as a pillow
The motley crew of hikers

Scara Brae was our next destination, much anticipated and read about in advance, though once we arrived we realised that most of what we had researched was already out of date and superseded with new learning – even the information in the visitor centre was now out of date.

Scara Brae is Europe’s most complete and well preserved Neolithic village which literally emerged from the sand dunes after storms in 1850. You can almost imagine the amazement as literally overnight houses were revealed, complete with stone beds, dressing tables, fireplaces, drainage and even toilets were revealed. People would have lived here between about 3180 BCE to about 2500 BCE, and at the time the Orkney Islands would have been far further south, with a much warmer climate.

The site sits on the edge of a white sand 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!

My house! Ha ha!
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.

Marking the location of the well
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.

Stromness Harbour
Old fisherman’s cottages
The water was very serene

A pub dinner concluded our amazing day, and again we were home in time for sunset, just after 10pm.

10:10pm and the sun is just going down. At this time of year the dusk stretches out until around midnight, and then it starts getting light again around 4am!

11-22 May 2024: Brittany on two wheels (Part one)

Author: Mr and Mrs A

Location: Plymouth, UK and Brittany, France

We have just arrived home from a superb ten days exploring Brittany by e-bike. Day after day of riding along stunning canals, lined with yellow flag irises, the cacophony of birdsong from the multitude of wrens, cuckoos, woodpeckers, blackbirds, robins and more accompanying the crunch of gravel as our wheels turned. At almost every bend in the river or canal we were welcomed by the heady scent of May tree blossom, a perfume so powerful we never failed to turn and admire the small white flowers. And yes, it rained, but the sun shone too, and we really appreciated those warm rays when they came.

The initial dream for this trip came from Mr A, after he had returned from a 10 day adventure with our friend Owen, cycling from Roscoff to Saint-Brieuc in Brittany late last September. They both returned gushing with stories of the people they had met, the incredible food and stunning weather which accompanied them on their trip.

In January this year, the winter weather dreary and wet, our hearts heavy with the loss of Tassie, Mr A and I sat at our kitchen bench, booked our ferry tickets to France, with the intention of repeating at least some of the adventure they undertook. We set about planning our route and accommodation. May, we thought, will be the sunniest month, the spring flowers, the birds, it will be perfect.

Yes, the adventure was to be on pedal-assisted bikes – these are not mopeds, we have to pedal to get the help from the motors, cheating in the eyes of some cycling purists, but for us, it means we actually get out there and see the world on two wheels AND enjoy the process. The only way to go!

Saturday 11 May – Plymouth, Devon, UK

And so finally we found ourselves in Plymouth. We parked the car in a secure space, and loaded the bikes with our panniers, and took off into town for an explore before dinner. The weather was glorious, and the waterside absolutely packed with semi-naked people enjoying the weather and making the most of the outside seating at the many pubs along there. We stopped for a drink, chatting with a couple from Cornwall, just a few miles down the road.

Dinner had been booked at a seafood restaurant in a very salubrious area of Plymouth, the newly gentrified Royal William Yard, a collection of Grade I listed buildings which were formerly Royal Navy supply yards, built in 1825. It shone out as a jewel in Plymouth, particularly on this sunny evening.

Yup – all our clothes, toiletries, stove and picnic gear – even a table – are in these panniers!
It was a Provence Rose kind of evening

After dinner, we jumped on the bikes and rode a short way to Brittany Ferries, where we were soon boarded, and holed up in our cabin for the overnight sailing.

A fine sunset to see us off

Sunday 12 May – Roscoff to Morlaix, Brittany (39 km)

Author: Mr A

And we’re on tour! We left Plymouth last night and took the overnight ferry to Roscoff in Brittany, to kick off 11 days cycle touring around this fabulous part of France.

Initially we are following the route Owen and I did last September, but then continuing on further south down the Nantes – Brest canal and then over to the regions capital, Remmes.

Well it got off to a good start, with a smooth crossing, although with a 4.30 alarm this morning to get us docked by 5, it felt like a long day already.

And. we have touchdown in France (after 3 hours of very broken sleep!)
A glorious sunrise to welcome us to France as we ride straight from the ferry onto the cycle trail
Quiet country lanes escort us around the coast
A sea mist soon rolls in, obscuring the sun
Boats along the coast look like they are almost flying, as sea and sky combine

We had a very easy ride around the coast though, stopping to snag the last baguette in a little village shop for a picnic brunch with a view across the Morlaix estuary, and quickly followed by a cheeky nap on a bench.

We cycled in past this rather grand marina on the Morlaix River

We were soon in Morlaix itself, a town Owen and I had really liked. It doesn’t feel over touristed in this part of Brittany, and everyone is very welcoming.

The town of Morlaix is dominated by a huge granite railway viaduct, built in just 2 years (1861-63) by 2,000 workers.
We found a path that led us across the viaduct, giving a fabulous unique view of the town
Half timbered houses from the 16th Century line many of Morlaix’s streets

The sun made a showing, so it was a no rush lunch with a delicious big salad. Everything always tastes just so fresh here. Two sales, one ice cream, a beer and lite bottle of water all for less than 40 Euros.

Our home for the night, a gorgeous old manor house in its own private grounds, and very grand rooms with a fab brekky. All for the princely sum of 125 Euros! Great value here.

We slept really well!

Monday 13 May – Morlaix to Rostrenen (82 km)

Author: Mrs A

Rain greeted us as soon as we awoke, and did not stop all day. This was to be our longest day of riding, also the hilliest with a few rail trails alongside the canal towpaths. I will not lie, it was tough, and I really felt my 50% closed airway on the half a kilometre of climbing!

We left Morlaix, sourcing ourselves a fresh baguette on the way out, the kindly baker cutting it in half so we could stow it away in a waterproof pannier. It was not long before we were on traffic-free pathways. The stress of vehicles in poor visibility removed, we were free to concentrate on avoiding potholes and keeping upright in the somewhat slippery conditions.

Mr A enjoying a downhill segment of an old railway
Sheltering under a bridge for a drink break – still smiling!

We were in as much waterproof protection as possible, right down to our socks, but it was no match to the heavy precipitation which endured throughout the day. Fortunately it was not cold, and we still managed to smile through the damp and have a superb ride through the countryside.

Our typical view as we cycled the towpaths, very few people out in this weather, but anyone we did see always calling out “Bonjour” with a wry smile

Our destination for the night was a canalside house near the village Rostrenen. Thankfully our host was well aware that on a Monday night there was no food to be purchased, so had offered to cook for us.

We arrived late afternoon, finding an ex-pat Brit running the B&B, who is also a cycling fanatic. He was very forgiving of our dripping state, helped us hose off our muddy bags and bikes, and set up drying racks for our jackets and trousers. We had really fallen on our feet.

Postcards in the reception area give some suggestion as to what we might have seen on a blue-sky day

Dinner was served after we had showered and changed into dry clothes, our room strewn with all our wet stuff, attempting to dry them over radiators and towel rails. We shared a bottle of wine with our host, as he shared tales of how he and his wife had ended up in France.

After a long day, we turned in for the night, I just about glimpsed a tinge of pink in the clouds as I drew the curtains…the sun was setting and had even shown its face for the occasion. Hopefully the next day would be a little drier.

Tuesday 14th May – Rostrenen to Pontivy (60 km)

Author: Mrs A

Sunshine!

The day started off with 15 minutes of sunshine…followed by 30 minutes of rain…which pretty much set off the trend for the day. After yesterday’s soaking however, we were happy to accept any amount of dry time!

We had not long left our accommodation before we stumbled across our first challenge – a tree down across the path. We consulted with a couple of local walkers, who said it must have fallen overnight, and with the help of Google, I plotted a short diversion via quiet lanes. Problem quickly solved.

The sunny spells gradually got a bit longer, and at times during the day we even left off our waterproofs – only having to stop a short while later to put them back on!

Our ride continued along the Nantes-Brest canal, weaving its way past locks and old lock-keeper cottages. Wagtails seemed to guide us along our path, flitting in and out of the trees, landing on the floor just ahead of us, only to repeat the process again. You could not help but absorb their joy.

Brightly coloured Foxgloves offer a break from the multitude of greens

We were not far from our destination for the day, Pontivy, when I spotted something interesting on the other side of the water – an otter! It also spotted us and dove under the water, only to pop up right in front of us, then disappear into the riverbank before I could grab the camera. I will never forget seeing that beady eye and twitching whiskers as it gave a final kick and disappeared into the undergrowth.

An otter lives here!

Pontivy is a small town, like Morlaix, full of half-timbered buildings, but unlike Morlaix, only a few places to eat and drink. And eating and drinking was on our minds once we had arrived at our hotel, as we were meeting our friends from Wales, Lauris and Ed. They were on holiday in France, and had diverted their journey to come and meet us for an evening.

We stored our bikes in the hotel’s secure garage, and after a quick freshen up joined our friends for drinks and nibbles before a superb dinner in a restaurant just down the road. I had booked it online, using Google translate to explain my dairy-free dietary requirements (a strange concept in butter-filled northern France!), and their chef was well prepared to make me a delicious meal without milk. Amazing. A fun night out.

Wednesday 15 May: Pontivy to Josselin (54 km)

Author: Mrs A

We had breakfast with our friends, before packing up for our day’s ride. We started off a little dusty after our late night, but soon blew the cobwebs away as we got back into the rhythm of riding.

The freedom of having everything with you and simply following a cycle trail means your mind has a moment to drift and absorb everything around you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, knowing you are safe from traffic, and instead free to smell, hear, observe and absorb life along the canal.

About mid-day we passed the point where Mr A and Owen had turned left. We were now on new territory for both of us.

A Grey Heron takes flight as we ride past
Mr A and Owen took the rigol d’Hivern (Hilvern channel – built to funnel water into the Nantes-Brest Canal) towards Saint-Brieuc at this point

The weather had improved to the point where the sunny periods were longer than the rain, but we kept those waterproofs handy, as when the clouds decided to leak, it was pretty heavy!

Before long we began seeing a few more cyclists and dog walkers along the path, always a sure sign we are approaching a settlement, and lo and behold, we had arrived at Josselin.

Josselin Castle, quite a magnificent sight as we arrive into town

We’d not eaten lunch, and arriving at 2:30pm had low expectations on finding any food. All the cafes in town, even the one kebab shop, were closed, so we rode out to the supermarket and picked up a few bits and pieces for a picnic.

At 5pm we were able to check into our accommodation for the evening, set in one of Josselin’s largest houses, with a covered deck out the back where we could charge up the bike batteries and keep them dry.

Thursday 16 May – Day off riding in Josselin

Back in January when we were planning this trip, we had done a bit of reading about our destinations, and felt Josselin might be a good place to stop for two nights. Carrying limited clothes means we had to do some washing, so this was the spot to do it.

Our hostess loaned us drying rack which we left undercover while we explored the small town and found ourselves some lunch. Brittany is well known for its buckwheat crêpes, both sweet and savoury, so we found ourselves a local cafe with lunch specials, and settled down. The crêpes are usually made with butter, but I asked politely and the chef used oil for mine instead. It was very delicious and light, served with cooked tomatoes, anchovies and salad.

Excuse the untidy hair – here was lunch!

After lunch I approached another restaurant in town to see whether we could book a table for that evening. There were two 5-star restaurants in Josselin, and we had eaten at the other one the previous evening. I gave notice of my dairy-intolerance and was shocked when the chef exclaimed “Non!”. They would rather not have either of us to dinner than be flexible with the menu. So no booking there. Instead, we made a reservation at the same spot as last night, La Table d’O – previous winners of the Best Restaurant in Brittany, and well deserved too.

There was more exploring to be done. First of all, I climbed the church tower to get a magnificent view of the town and surroundings.

The church is right in the centre of the village, and the last place to see the sun at sunset – as seen from our bedroom window
And looking back at our accommodation from the top of the church tower
And an aerial view of our next destination for the day, Josselin Castle
Top: Proof of life – after the exhausting climb up the narrow spiral staircase – Left: looking up into the spire Right: Looking down at the town hall

I met Mr A back down on the cobbled streets and we made our way towards the picturesque Josselin Castle. I tried to purchase a tour in English, but apparently the translator was not working that day, so instead we did a short self tour, using the information boards in English.

Parts of Josselin Castle date back to 1008, but most of the current castle is from the late 1300s As soon as you walk in there is a rather spooky museum of dolls and puppets, which we whizzed through and out into the magnificent gardens.

The English Garden – full of roses and Foxgloves of every colour
The door to nowhere – this tower was once a part of defensive walls, now long gone
Sitting alongside the River Oust, the provides is a commanding view, its fairytale towers majestically dominating the local scenery

The castle is still being lived in by one of the original family members – a thousand years of occupancy. Those floors are of course inaccessible to tourists. We tried to learn what the occupant does for a living, but other than being a senator, we learned little.

Our visit to Josselin concluded with a superb dinner at La Table d’O, with delicious food and a magnificent view of the castle as the sun set.

I even got a dairy-free dessert! Mr A had a cheese platter, and they kindly took a photo of us both with the castle view

Tomorrow we were off again. I know we were both excited to get away again, some freshly clean clothes, rested legs and recharged bikes. What adventures, sights, sounds and smells would lay ahead of us? We would soon discover…

May 2023 – History, good food and wine and friends

Location: Rome and Loro Piceno, Italy, the Cotswolds, UK

Author: Mrs A

Just a 50 minute drive from home is Bristol Airport, and it was here we found ourselves in mid May, dropping our car off at the ‘Park and Fly’ section to board a flight to Italy. Oh so civilised, and very easy access. Within five hours, we had unpacked at our hotel, showered and changed and were sipping a refreshing Aperol at a street-side bar, people watching on the streets of Rome, Italy.

Cool temperatures and rain were there to welcome us in Rome

Here we spent a wonderful history-filled, chilled out 3 days (stepping out the 36 km/23 miles required to burn off all the pasta and pizza!), exploring the many sights within easy walking distance from our hotel.

We ambled out of our hotel on our first morning and literally stumbled across the Spanish Steps (designed by a Frenchman, but named for the Spanish Embassy which was in the square when they were built). Built in the 1720’s, they lead from the Square of Spain to the Egyptian obelisk and monastery at the top.
Fine views across Rome from the top

Our first day, I had booked us a tour of the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill and the incredibly grand Colosseum. Our tour guide was fabulous – Rome born and bred and fluent in English, she knew the history inside out, and presented it in an exciting and vibrant way, as though it was her first visit too. She had our small group enthralled with her stories and extensive knowledge of the venue.

The sense of magnificent history was almost overwhelming

The Forum, which was, in Roman times, the commercial centre of the city, where markets were held, banking, trials, celebrations and political announcements made was a breathtaking area, with tall pillars and evidence of cobbled streets and squares. For nearly a thousand years, many of the structures remained buried under layers of silt from the frequently flooding River Tiber, and excavation commenced very slowly in 1803. In 1932, Mussolini decided to celebrate 10 years of the Fascist Party’s power by building a road through the area, which encouraged excavation to speed up substantially, though it seems the cataloging of findings was equally rushed. Nevertheless, this piece of propaganda means the fabulous ruins are available for us to see today.

Palatine Hill was where the royal palace was situated, and over the centuries many dignitaries have made their home on the location, with views nowadays stretching over the ruins.

Up on Palatine Hill overlooking the Forum

The Colosseum was our final stop, made famous by films such as Russel Crowe’s Gladiator (can you believe that is 23 years old now?!). From the poses for photos around the venue, it seems many of the visitors had recently watched this movie as homework! Our guide corrected the many inaccuracies in the film, including the Roman Emperor’s ‘thumbs up’ to indicate the gladiator can live vs the thumbs down meaning death. Apparently gladiators were all seen as prize sportspeople and death was not really an option.

Incredible being inside this incredible structure. It is the largest amphitheatre ever built, and is still the largest standing amphitheatre in the world, despite its age – finished in 80AD

The tour was so interesting, helping us bring parallels from Rome to so much in the UK, recognising much of the language we speak originates from the Latin spoken by our ancestors, as well as many of the roads we travel on following routes originally forged by Roman troops.

Our second day we did a tour on foot, crossing the River Tiber (now seriously protected from flooding with huge walls either side of it) and exploring around St Peter’s Square and the area around The Vatican. I debated going in as the queue was quite short, but Mr A was adamant he did not want to give Catholic priests any money and has little interest in the art and architecture within there. So we continued on our exploration without it.

St Peter’s Square looking towards the Vatican and the River Tiber on our tour across the river
Castel Sant’Angelo sits alongside the river – it was originally built as a mausoleum for the Roman Emperor, Hadrian, of Hadrian’s Wall, a Roman fortification in the north of England
The Trevi Fountain – built of travertine (volcanic stone found around hot springs) and one of Rome’s oldest water sources. People toss coins over their shoulder into the water for luck – this yields about 3,000 Euro a day, which is collected by a charity and goes to help feed Rome’s poor

It was a fun city to visit, the food delicious and the people friendly, but soon it was time to leave Rome and head back to the airport to hire a car to drive across Italy to the eastern side, and our friends in La Marche. Sydney friends, Clive and Aisha, had been joined by UK friends, Mel and Barny, at a Bruce Springsteen concert in Ferrara, northern Italy, braving ankle deep mud to hear him sing. They report it was well worth it, though the two hour journey back to their car took the shine off somewhat.

The weather was cold and wet on our arrival at Mel and Barny’s Italian house in the village of Loro Piceno, and we all wrapped up warm in fleece jackets and rain coats, the views across the valley shrouded in low cloud, quite different from what we experienced when we visited last time, in June 2019.

Low cloud drifts through the valley
Through rain and shine we had a great time!
Looking across the valley just after sunset from the pool

We made the most of it though, with Mel and Barny doing us proud with incredible restaurants booked for lunch and dinners, with a combination of hillside villages and a visit to the coast too. The weather improved as the week progressed.

Mel and Barny’s house and holiday cottage (front right) with the Sibilini Mountains making a dramatic backdrop
A little bit of macro photography around Mel and Barny’s property
A day out to the coast and another fine lunch
A table with a view and a lot of delicious food

Mr A and I took a day trip to Assisi with Clive and Aisha, before dropping them to the airport for their flight to the next destination on their extensive holiday.

Another delicious lunch in Assisi
Exploring the castle and magnificent views (and cats) from the top of the town

On our last day in Loro Piceno, Mel and Barny took us to Sarnano, a stunning hilltop town. Mel and I left the boys sipping coffee and people watching, while we went off on a hike in the foothills of the Simbolini mountains, exploring a number of waterfalls. The heavy rainfall had made the usually peaceful babbling creek into a roaring torrent, and the waterfalls simply breathtaking. You would not have wanted to slip in!

Sarnano, where we commenced our hike
Loving being out amongst nature

Mel and Barny had once again given us an incredible time, showcasing the best of their region’s restaurants, views and walks, and giving us another taster of life in this stunning part of Italy. We are so grateful for their kindness and generosity.

We flew back home to a happy Tassie, having been well cared for by our Australian housesitters, Sam and Steve. We had just enough time to quickly wash our clothes, do a little gardening and repack bags to head off again to the Cotswolds to spend a few days in an AirBnB with friends in a village there!

On our way to meet them, we called in to visit a National Trust Roman Villa in Chedworth near Cirencester. Archaeologists were on site, literally peeling back the soil and grass to reveal near perfect mosaic tile floors, and we listened in on an interview for an upcoming TV programme which revealed the extent of what they were discovering.

We met up with Mark’s old school friends, Stuart and John, and Karen and Catriona, their other halves, in an AirBnB in the village of Bledington. For one day only, Andrew, the other member of the schoolboy foursome, drove up to join in the fun and frivolity.

We had left hot sunshine in Somerset, so were somewhat unprepared for the chilly north wind and heavy cloud that greeted us. The summer dresses didn’t get much of an airing, and we even lit the log fire in the evenings! We did some great walks, and the village pub was welcomed for the odd drink or two.

Yes, even another surprise celebration of my 50th! Buttercups were the order of the day in the meadows we walked across.
Sunshine finally, on our last afternoon

It was a fun three nights away, and we all hugged our farewells with promises to catch up again soon. Mark and I drove back to Somerset, and by 1pm were welcoming our next guests into our home.

Phil and Libby are friends from Australia who we originally met while travelling in our caravan. We were very excited to host them at home and give them a brief taster of our area, and took them up onto the Quantock Hills for a morning walk, with lunch at picturesque café, The Rocking Horse, and dinner at our local pub. We squeezed a lot into their two nights, before dropping them off at the station to continue their travels in London.

We had two nights just us, before the next visitors from down under arrived, my dad, Richard and his wife, Sue, over in the UK for a few weeks from New Zealand, celebrating dad’s 80th. We started off by experimenting with the rotisserie feature on our new BBQ – it all went well and nobody got food poisoning – hurrah!

My brother, Alex, had also come down to Somerset to spend some time with dad, and had booked a cottage on a nearby farm to stay with his two dogs. Alex loves walking, so we left dad and Sue having a lie in and took Alex, Scout and Raffles on one of our favourite circuit walks in the Blackdown Hills.

The fields look quite special at this time of year
A beautiful summer’s day – the sunshine has well and truly arrived!

Dad and Sue joined us for lunch and a drink at our local pub, before a short walk along the River Tone.

We were very fortunate to be invited to climb the tower of St Giles’ Church, at the invitation of one of Bradford on Tone’s octogenarian residents, Dave Richards. The church dates from the 13th century, with a narrow spiral staircase taking us up the bell tower. We stopped briefly a the bellringer’s room, where the ancient church clock’s cogs and wheels click and turn before chiming each quarter hour and hour between 7am and 10pm.

At the top of the tower we were rewarded with incredible views across the village and surrounding countryside, as well as a unique view of our home.

As always, it was great fun to have them around, and time went too quickly – before we knew it they were heading off to their next visit in north London.

We had a few days to regroup, before our next trip where I am writing from today – in Milan, Italy. I have been invited here to the European Laryngology Society Conference to present the airway stenosis patient experience. My presentation is today, and the next update will come from Mr A. I bet you can’t wait!

14-20 November: A week in Seville: it wasn’t all about the oranges!

Author: Mr A

Location: Seville, Spain

“Go to Seville!”, someone suggested when we were wondering where to head for a week’s break. Embarrassingly all I could conjure up in my mind was ….oranges. Yes there is around 45,000 trees laden with a rather sour variety from this tree that line the pavements of the city. But wow..so much more!

In the heat of summer (35 degrees and up!) these beautiful trees provide welcome shade for the diners seated at the seemingly endless rows of cafes. In this gloriously cool autumnal weather, the pavements were still buzzing. After a few pleasant lunches spent beneath these trees, my imagination fuelled by a decent vino rosso or two, I wondered what the oranges on the trees would make of the contrast in culture when they finally completed their journey as a jar of marmalade and made it onto an English breakfast table?

Cobbled streets lined with orange trees leading to the cathedral

In a nutshell, or an orange peel, this was the biggest joy for me of the week, to be transported into such a different world, where mealtimes were an occasion for so much clearly passionate conversation, punctuated by peals of laughter, uninhibited by the presence of strangers at surrounding tables. It was impossible not to smile at the sheer pleasure and “all in” enjoyment being taken in sharing a meal with friends and family, and be in turn uplifted ourselves.

Well…we had to eat, didn’t we?

Of course it wasn’t all sitting around eating and drinking, well “all” is a relative concept isn’t it? There was a lot of that, but we did clock up just under 80 kilometres (50 miles) of walking in the week. I doubt that would have put us in calorie credit though, but at least most of my trousers still do up! There was definitely plenty to wander round and see.

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On the first day it was the Palace, one of the three UNESCO sites in the city. For us to see this Moorish (no pun there) architecture, was a real eye and camera lens opener.

The other UNESCO site was the Cathedral that Catherine took a tour of, and luckily she had a brilliant guide who was able to bring alive the stories behind this incredible facade.

The quiet serenity of the Cathedral’s inner courtyard
Magnificent opulence, artwork and history – ranging from Roman times to present day
A series of 35 ramps guide visitors to the top of this tower, which Catherine climbed. This was so donkeys could be ridden to the top to allow guards to watch for invasion on the river.

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But enough of that, lets get back to the food! Markets, to me, always also tell so many stories about the people and how they live. We visited the ones in the centre of the city, and were swept along in the frenzied buying and selling of the produce. Just ogling the sheer variety, with its proximity to Africa, and its history of being a city where fresh ingredients have always been so important to its culture.

Mercardo di Triana – a huge, colourful fresh food market in the flamenco area of Seville…not the place to visit when you are hungry!

We also took a boat trip down the river, and got a less than satisfying guide, so my imagination fired up again to think of all the world shaping journeys that others had taken starting on this same stretch of water. Columbus, Magelllen, the conquistadors heading off to the Americas, the Romans, even allegedly the Vikings. Oh what tales those riverbanks could tell. Seville is still an important port, but the only boat traffic we saw was a couple of sightseeing boats like ours. Rivers no longer play the central role they once did, and Seville lapsed from its position as the hub of Spain’s commerce with the old and “new” worlds.

The Torre del Oro is the “Tower of Gold” in Seville.

Along the river were built places like this 36-meter-high tower used in the 12th century as a storage place for gold brought back from the South American colonies (hence its name).

It was even briefly warm enough for bare arms!
Quite breezy on board the boat
So our trip on the Guadalquivir River gave us a very rudimentary recorded sight seeing tour in four languages!

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As a city, it is now the capital of Andalusia, and home to 700,000 people, a nice size for a city, but almost every single one of whom seem to head to the old town on a Saturday to shop, eat tapas, and drink some of their fabulous local wines. Brilliant atmosphere!

So it’s back to the eating and drinking as we settle down for a long lunch, kicked off with my new favourite aperitif…a vermouth.

A little home bar inspiration

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We did also manage to fit in one evening a wine tasting, you will be surprised to hear 🙂

We profess to barely even skimming the surface of what Andalusia has to offer wine wise, but what we sampled we absolutely loved, that intense summer sun bringing out so many flavours.

A local wine tasting at Lama La Uva

For Catherine, a smooth rjoca or occasionally a chilled alberino with seafood. I really enjoyed the drier sherries as well. More to explore there I think!

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The city does still boast a rather unusual claim to fame though, apparently the largest wooden structure in the world. We had to have a look. Nice views. nice film of the city, tick. So now lets back to the tapas and wine…only kidding.

Setas de Sevilla (“Mushrooms of Seville”)

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I have just been reminded by some photos that we did have a look round a medieval home, but then we went for tapas and wine, so I can’t tell you very much more than that!

This courtyard appeared in the movie, Lawrence of Arabia
Casa di Pilatos (Palace for the governors of Andalusia)

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Another day brought more blue skies and pleasant walking temperatures in the low 20’s, so we took ourselves off to explore the Plaza de España in the Parque de María Luisa (Maria Luisa Park) – originally built in the 1920s as a symbol of peace with its former South American colonies. It was mostly closed for filming when we visited – flipping inconsiderate these movie types. In the past this has been a site for Star Wars (Episode II – Attack of the Clones for the geeks out there!). It was pretty picturesque with its tiled walls, moat and magnificent arches.

Plaza de España
Plaza de España
The devil is in the detail – even the pigeons are pretty!
Avenues of tall trees surrounded by scorched earth would be havens of shade in the summertime, when temperatures above 40 degrees centigrade are not unheard of
A new lens in Mrs A’s collection gets a workout – macroscopic gets her up close and personal to plants and insects
Enjoying some peace and tranquility in the Maria Louisa Park

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Catherine visited the Museum of Contemporary Art, housed in a 15th century monastery. The buildings were as fascinating as the artwork.

Meanwhile, I went to a local’s bar and drank some beer, and ate tapas, and quizzed the barman why everyone who lives in Seville seems to be so happy. He thought it was the tapas and wine. I’m inclined to agree.

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On our final night we booked a flamenco show at Casa de la Guitarra (House of the Guitar).

We loved watching the dancing and listening to the guitarist, but I think flamenco singing is a bit of an acquired taste. All good learning and a taste of the folk-songs of Spain.

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So I think that conveys the spirit of the week right? It was great to once again be back in Europe, delving into the history, watching the people, feeling the vibe.

The spirit and colour of Seville
A mash of historical eras and architecture

We remain so glad we made this move. Europe on a our doorstep, and so many parts of the UK to see as well. Our own back door is still full of places we haven’t had a chance to see yet. Long trips in our motorhome are off the agenda for the moment – we are enjoying spending time in our home with Tassie, and feeling it’s quite enough to have a week away here and there. How times change!

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6-31 August: The Aussies descend on Bradford-on-Tone!

Author: Mrs A

Location: Bradford on Tone, Somerset and London, UK

When Mr A last wrote he was struggling through a bout of Covid-19, isolated in his own wing of the house, while room service (me) delivered meals on a tray. Finally on day 9 he tested negative and was free to return to the shared spaces of the house, with a great deal of relief. I had managed to avoid catching it, thanks to his strict isolation.

Soon after he was released, I had my second immunotherapy infusion in London, and on a hot Tuesday morning headed up to Hampstead. The Royal Free Hospital has a charitable arm which provides free accomodation in a brand new building for long-distance patients, conveniently located beside the hospital, and walking distance to shops, cafes and the London Underground. After checking in, I decided I wanted an afternoon in the great outdoors, given I had so much indoor time ahead (hooked up to a drip), and took off to explore Hampstead Heath.

The Heath is a bit of a hidden gem in London. First written mention of it dates back to the year 986 when Ethelred the Unready allocated some of the land to one of his servants. Nowadays, at 790 acres, it is one of the largest green (or mostly yellow at the moment) spaces in London.

There are about 30 ponds on the Heath, three of which are available to swim in (one mixed genders, one female only, one male only), which were absolutely packed on this 30 degree day. Looking at the murky brown waters, I decided not to partake! My mum grew up in this area, and told me of people swimming here in the 1950s and 60s – I cannot imagine they have been well cleaned since this time, but I could be wrong!

A cool haven on a hot day – the Heath, Kenwood House and an unmistakable Henry Moore scuplture

The woodlands provided nature’s air conditioning, perfect for walking, and I completed a 9km circuit, calling in at the stunning English Heritage Kenwood House for a look around the artwork and unique interior architecture (visit for the library alone, it is incredible!). The park is packed full of birdlife, and I saw Green and Spotted Woodpeckers, Wrens, Robins, Magpies, Grey Herons and huge flocks of Rose-ringed Parakeets munching on sycamore tree seeds. The ancient woodland is the UK’s smallest site of special scientific interest (SSSI) and is home to some rare and endangered plants and wildlife.

The view from Parliament Hill is well worth a visit – spot St. Paul’s Cathedral, The Shard and many other landmarks

The following morning I was off for my infusion of unicorn juice. This is my second infusion of Rituximab, the aim of which is to suppress my immune system and stop it from attacking my airway unnecessarily! Already, despite having an op in June, at this point my airway was already on the decline.

The unicorn juice enters my bloodstream…hopefully working its magic

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The day after I returned from London, my sister, Helen, brother in law Stu and nephew and niece drove over from Brighton and spent a busy and very warm four days with us.

The temperatures were more like what we would have expected to find in Australia, and our local river was again a lovely cool haven for a bit more packrafting with the kids.

Living near a small river has its advantages
Elliot did well with his paddling

We held a bit of a housewarming party too, with our friends from Honiton coming over for a BBQ one evening. We ended up congregating under the cool shade of the oak tree to sip wine, listen to music and share stories of our misspent youths!

The moon was huge and the werewolves out in force 🙂

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The first of our Australian visitors arrived, with John and Eveliene stopping by for lunch en route from Plymouth to Oxfordshire, the months falling away as we slipped back into old conversations and jokes easily.

Cups of tea under the cool shade of the oak tree with friends Eveliene and John

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The next visitors were also from Australia, Karen and Chris, who stayed for three nights. They arrived on our 20th wedding anniversary, so joined us and our new friends and neighbours, Jim and Lucy, for a celebratory dinner at a local Italian, and a glass or two of bubbles.

Cheers!
Even Princess Tassie got into the celebratory action!

A tour of a nearby brewery was in order the following day, somewhat of a hair-of-the dog, and Exmoor Ales obliged us with tastes straight from the barrel. They were rewarded with a few purchases.

Some tasty tipples tried on our tour

No flying visit to Somerset is complete without a walk in the Quantock Hills before lunch at our local cider barn, Sheppy’s, and of course that was scheduled in for their final day with us (they also have a fine wine list, for the non cider drinkers!).

Starting our short walk at Crowcombe Gate – there are magnificent views almost immediately
This is the perfect time of year to see the Quantocks – the heather is blooming and hopefully the temperatures are not too crazy
The joy of the outdoors!
Fine views all the way down to Minehead on the coast

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Not one to waste time, I squeezed in another operation on my airway on the day Karen and Chris left – hoping this is the last one this year – I have lost enough brain cells to general anaesthetics in 2022! Final pre-op photo for this year…(fingers crossed!), this one conducted at our local hospital in Taunton, just 12 minutes drive from home.

All went as planned and I could immediately feel the benefit of an open airway. If my peak flow chart were your share portfolio, you’d be a happy bunny today!

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Readers who have been following us for a while will know that Mr A is rather partial to a solo cycling adventure, and he has been feeling he should plan a trip. So he set off on a training ride for two nights, loading up his electric bike with tent, sleeping bag, stove and a few supplies. The good thing about bike-packing (as it is called) in the UK, is that there is not hundreds of kilometres between water and food supplies, making the load a little lighter. The battery on the bike also helps a bit too! He had a great few days, saw some stunning countryside and was able to refine his packing list for next time.

And he’s off…and that’s just down our driveway!

Mark had not long left our driveway, and my sister and niece arrived from Brighton to join me for a few days.

An afternoon walk for a paddle in the river followed by a rendezvous with our friendly local Shetland Ponies and concluding with a cool drink with neighbours Lucy, Jim and their lovely dog, Maisie

I took Helen and Isabel to the small fishing town of Watchet, just a half hour drive from home. Following Jim’s tip to use bacon as bait, had a successful hour of crabbing in the rock pools. All crabs were released unharmed and enjoyed their morsels of bacon!

Fish and chips followed by ice creams – perfect seaside visit
Lucy and Jim join us for drinks, nibbles and games of Uno!

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After saying farewell to Helen and Isabel, Mark and I realised we had a few days off from visitors, so decided to take ourselves off on a hike. I plotted a 9km route using Kamoot (our favourite mostly free app for plotting hikes via public footpaths and bridleways) and off we went. Despite being a long-weekend, we didn’t see anyone else on the paths.

The hikes up revealed fabulous countryside views
Grand avenues of mossy trees guide us on through the Brendon Hills, part of Exmoor National Park
Our walk takes us way down into the valley, where we join the River Tone, which (further down river) passes through our village
Appreciating the joy of breathing easily

It was lovely to get out in the fresh air amongst nature for a few hours, to fully test the new (again!) airway, and make the most of where we live.

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We continue to feel more and more settled in Somerset, and metaphorically pinch ourselves on a daily basis when we admire the views from our windows or stroll through the village on our way to pilates at the village hall.

Creating memories with our friends and families, and having our Australian and UK lives mingle, all helps us to feel more at home here in Bradford-on-Tone. We are starting to make small changes to our home, putting our mark on it, and are enjoying fresh produce from the garden – a rhubarb and apple crumble last week, thanks to produce tended by the previous owners, and almost every day we are consuming salad leaves and peppery radish, sown by Mark’s youngest daughter, Hayley when she came to stay.

I am getting to know some locals as well, having met another lady with the same airway disease as me while I was in London, finding we live just 20 minutes drive apart. Last week another patient called in to meet us for lunch on her way home from holidaying in Cornwall – another time we really appreciate our proximity to the UK’s major transport networks!

Lunch with two iSGS sisters, Lisa and Jean – always good to talk to people who understand what life is like with a constantly closing airway!

While the past few months have delivered some health challenges, I am fortunate to have access to the best care, and a responsive medical team who are on my side. When I read almost daily about the waiting lists for medical treatment, I know that not everyone has this, and I am incredibly grateful. Mr A is now under the care of a world renowned eye surgeon in London for his glaucoma and pigment dispersion syndrome (PDS). We have had to organise this privately, the cost well worth avoiding the dangerously long wait to see an National Health Service doctor, which could be potentially damaging to his eyesight.

We’re learning how to navigate the systems, and though I am certain there will be more hurdles ahead, we have good friends and contacts who are helping us to overcome them.

One of the reasons we migrated to the UK was to spend more time travelling and exploring Europe…now we have been here seven months, we are starting to think about where and when we might get away…plans are afoot…watch this space!

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13-18 October: Walking in the footsteps of my parents

Author: Mr A

Location: Houghton & Swavesey, Cambridgeshire, Kettering, Northamptonshire and finally Milton Keynes, Buckinghamshire, UK

It‘s been a brilliant couple of weeks of catching up with family and friends. Purely by chance we ended up staying at a fabulous National Trust campsite in the area my mother grew up in, and Catherine and I ended up retracing the last day out that I had with my parents (map of our route).

Great campsite at Houghton Mill. a National trust property
My mums home growing up – the riverside town of Godmanchester
The River Great Ouse
I remember her telling me she used to swim in this river as a teenager
We even found the same pub we went to that day
A gnome outside the hotel
Cheers! Remembering Clem and Jill 💕
The Old Bridge at Godmanchester

From there we visited one of Catherine’s cousins I hadn’t met before, Elizabeth (plus her husband, Jason and son Michael) living in the small village of Swavesey just down the road. What a talented, lovely bunch her family are and I feel all the richer for spending time getting to know them. Another unintended benefit of not being able to travel to Europe!

From there we went and had a nose around the small village of Old Weston, where my research into family trees on Ancestry.com had told me my great, great grandfather had lived. It’s a spooky feeling looking at some of the same buildings they would have passed in their daily lives.

The Church of St Swithin in Old Weston where my ‘Turner’ ancestors almost certainly attended

Then on to the “ancestral seat” of my family, the small town of Raunds. I found my grandmother‘s grave, the one I had never met as she died before I was born, and where my mother’s ashes were scattered.

The salubriously named road where so many of my relatives lived – Rotton actually is from the word for Royal in old English
More mentions of ancestors at the nearby church
One of my ancestors memorialised after he died in the First World War
”You are my sunshine”

A somewhat emotionally wearing day, but was capped off my a visit to my old friends in Kettering in Northamptonshire, and my home town growing up. We had our usual night out of superb curry and beer, and the only photos from the evening I am not allowing Catherine to post! Yup…I fell asleep in a chair in their lounge clutching a glass of red…again!

From there it was on to the city of Milton Keynes, and a weekend I had been so looking forward to with my daughters and grandkids. It sure didn’t disappoint. Dinners and lunches out and in their lovely homes, visits to animal farms and walks in the wood. Reconnecting with a family I‘ve seen so little of over the years – blissful.

A fab night out with daughters Zoe and Hayley
Well I had to keep daughter number two company with a desert!

One of the delights for me has been watching Catherine helping Hayley experiment with her cooking, and a chicken vindaloo at her fab pad was proof of both of their talents.

The newest edition to Halyey’s family – the very cuddly Belle

Milton Keynes has certainly matured since my time living there in the 80’s.

The Grand Union Canal in mirror-like perfection
What an avenue of autumnal delight, a few minutes walk from the city centre
A seagull soars over the barges
Perfect colour palette

We are Wagamama fans – but two days on the trot? Why not.

Then it was a trip out to the Green Dragon Eco Farm with Zoe and her son Jacob, a bird show and animal feeding all part of this great day out.

I thought they were coming over!
Lynx used to be native to the UK but have been extinct here since the 1300s
Just love a bird show – now now…..this one’s a buzzard….
A gorgeous barn owl
Jacob is such a lovely lad – quick to smile and a pleasure to be with
A moment captured to treasure with Zoe and Jacob

Then Sunday was a walk in the woods with Hayley and her two boys, Luke and James. Much fun was had chasing each other around.

Some were keener than other top be captured by Catherines lens. -or was it my aftershave?
Intrepid explorers off for a stomp

I couldn’t have hoped for a better time – I can just wish, and plan, for more times like this.

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?

9-13 August: Exploring North Devon

Author: Mr A

Location: Tavistock, Okehampton and Dartmoor, Devon,

Having time to learn has been one of the great joys of retirement. We have found ourselves, in our three years on the road, improving our understanding of the world around us. Its history, geology, flora, fauna, macro and micro cultures. What a privledge, and we don’t want to waste that opportunity. Take this week for example. we took another walk from our campsite, and came across an old arsenic works from the early 20th century. That led to a bit of reading up about mining more generally in this area, and all of a sudden this whole new chapter in my learning journey opens up.

The good thing about living on top of a hill, is that there are lots of great views and always a downhill start to hikes…the return is another story….

So we had seen the signs around Tavistock designating it a World Heritage site, but hadn’t really understood why. Its all about the mines.

I have also wondered how this little island I once called home got to be so important for a while on the world stage (Noah Harare in “Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind” was the most readable explanation I’ve read on that) and the role mining played in Britain’s rise to fame I hadn’t really appreciated.

The archaeological record shows a history of taking ores from stream beds and turning them into something useful since the mid Bronze Age, around 4,000 years ago. In this area, it was mainly tin and copper, thanks to its abundance given a specific geology where mineralisation had occurred. I was definitely asleep in my history and chemistry lessons, as I hadn’t remembered that by adding small amounts of tin to copper – hey presto— you have bronze, an even harder metal. Although the first evidence of this process has been uncovered in Turkey over 5,000 years ago, first evidence so far in UK was a 1,000 years later. It has been postulated even as a reason the Romans invaded to get their hands on Cornish and Devon tin. By the 12th century there was over 60 tons of tin ore recorded as being mined out of Dartmoor and the surrounding area.

This mining activity has so shaped the landscape and made an unique contribution of the area we are exploring that in 2006 it was awarded World Heritage status, as the Cornwall and West Devon Mining Landscape. The 18th and 19th century saw deep mines (over 1500 feet at Morwhellan) for tin and two thirds of the world’s copper, as well as half the world‘s arsenic production. Mining machinery built in this area was sold around the world and become one of the drivers of the Industrial Revolution. Another piece in the puzzle of understanding this country’s history put in place.

So it is a with different eye that we can walk around this landscape, admire its rural beauty, and now appreciate its role on the world stage.

Pretty muddy pathways in parts after the heavy rain
Nice and shady on many of the Tamar Trails
Took a picnic and enjoyed this view from a bench
Arsenic Mine

Just imagining the children, some as young as 9, their graves in the local churchyard, climbing down into these mines, sent shivers down our spines, even on this baking hot day. I think of my grandchildren at that age now, and how their world is so different.

A mine with a view – it was hot up here and reminded us of Australia…many of the miners from here emigrated to mine in Australia once these dried up – transferring their experience to gold mining
Relishing the cool shade once more as we start to hike back to camp

One unintended benefit for us of this historical landscape is the abundance of old railways that the far sighted Devon Council has converted to rail trails. I had read about one called the Granite Way that started around 15 kilometres from our campsite. So off we rode, the excitement of the wheels rolling somewhere new never dulls.

More than a kilometre of climbing – in spite of the motors we felt the effort of this ride

We cycled through some pretty hilly terrain, with liberal use of the pedal assistance provided by our bikes. Would we have chosen to ride to the start without battery support? I doubt it. It added over 30 km to the trip, with another 36km return for the rail trail to come. But knowing we could “flatten the hills” a bit we rode it (Strava link).

We are so glad we did. The ride took us through an unfolding landscape dotted with churches with commanding views, Norman castles, and some very enticing looking pubs.

The Church of St Michel de Rupe built in the 1200s sits on top of Brent Tor
Lydford Castle was a prison and courthouse built in 1195. It sits beside a field with the remains of a Norman ringwork castle
Cells and great views visible from the castle

But we pressed on to the welcome more level tarmac of the Granite Way. I had seen pictures from various blogs of the highlights of this route, which is part of the much longer “Coast to Coast” route through Devon (Plymouth to Ilfracombe) , but was still taken aback when we rounded a corner and this restored viaduct came into view.

Checking out the views
Not too busy on this Wednesday afternoon
Looking out over Dartmoor

It was great seeing so many smiles from other cyclists as well, clearly enjoying the day. Even a couple of lycra clad road warriors smiled, unheard of in Australia! It is so relaxing to be away from the threat of cars, and just to be able to take in the view without constantly checking mirrors and worrying if you will be come one of the many accident statistics where bike meets car. Cyclist rarely comes off better! Touch wood, so far, we have experienced really respectful road sharing behaviour from car drivers. The only near accident was when we were pedestrians and a road cyclist came hammering around a blind bend in a village and nearly took Catherine out!

As we reached the end of the trail in the small town of Okehampton, we spotted a family from our campsite who has just ridden the trail with their three boys, one of whom was only five! Brilliant. A long pub lunch while our batteries charged back up, and we rode back, catching them up and riding the return rail trail leg with them. It was so inspiring to hear their story. The two highest mountain peaks in England and Wales have bagged by these little guys, when one was only four!

Doom Bar Amber Ale, brewed in north Cornwall is rather a tasty drop
Despite being a rail trail there is a gentle slope here…and not all these bikes have gears! Kudos to 5 year old Duke managing the 35 km return route on his little bike

They don’t posses tablets, and haven’t asked for them. Life in their home town of Newquay seems busy enough with swimming, surfing, riding and hiking. There are many different ways to parent, and I’m sure not an expert, but seeing these young guys’ confidence and interest in the world around them as we shared a bottle of wine with mum and dad, I filed that observation away.

3-8 August: Moving on from Dorset

Author: Mrs A

Location: Tavistock and Plymouth, Devon, UK

Leaving our campsite in Dorset, it was just a hop skip and a jump into Devon, the adjoining county. Our next destination was a campground near Tavistock in Devon, just north of Plymouth.

We first became aware of The Old Rectory, Camping and Caravan Park when we were desperately looking for a place to live, just before Easter. The nephew of Declan (the campground owner), knows someone we know, as he contacted us via Facebook and suggested we park up here. As it turned out we were able to find and rent Honeysuckle Cottage in West Bagborough instead, and the rest is history.

Still, we had taken note of this location, surrounded by interesting hikes and cycleways, and nestled a short way from the tors and moors of Dartmoor, and had decided to book in for two weeks. What a great decision!

The weather has been variable since we arrived, with temperatures similar to winter in Australia (daytimes at 16-18 degrees) with a good dose of rain and drizzle ranging to a hot and humid late 20s the past couple of days.

Our first impression of Tavistock was of a grand, good looking town, with its central square centred around its Pannier Markets. These were purpose built in the 1850s by the 7th Duke of Bedford using money made from the local copper and asbestos mining operations. The river was re-routed to allow for this building and the square (Bedford Square). There are still markets held here every Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

The Tavistock Town Hall on Bedford Square

The sunshine of our first day was not set to last, so on Tuesday morning we decided we would cycle into town and have a good look around. Our campsite, The Old Rectory is just out of town, but we managed to ride in with only a short distance travelled on roads.

Diverting down a narrow farm track, we soon arrived at the Tavistock Canal. This picturesque area is now primarily a footpath (bikes tolerated with care), but has an interesting history dating back to 1817. It links to the River Tamar and Morwellham Quay, and was used to transport goods for shipping. These days it’s home primarily to waterfowl, but the excellent craft involved in building this watercourse is still holding strong.

Mr A riding along the Tamworth Canal
On this moist morning the dark trunks of the beech trees stand out like sculptures
The path takes you beneath the Shillamill Viaduct – opened in 1890 to carry trains across the valley..

We had a good explore around town on our bikes, the rain holding off enough for us to enjoy a picnic of Cornish Pasties (a vegan one for me – one of the benefits of this latest food trend is dairy-free goodies!) and a hot chocolate.

Wednesday dawned grey, but the rain continued to hold off, so we donned our walking boots and decided to hike to see the aforementioned Morwellham Quay (Strava link). Our campground is located in the hamlet of Gulworthy, on the edge of a huge network of mountain biking and hiking tracks known as the Tamar Trails. The trail network is open for all to use, with maps around detailing which are for walkers only versus shared with bikes.

Mark heading off along a track which was once a railway carrying copper to the port

This whole area is part of the Cornish and West Devon Mining Landscape World Heritage Site – protected along with the likes of the Taj Mahal and the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. The Tamar Valley was home to numerous successful copper mines in the 19th and 20th centuries.

You can see the line of raw copper in this stone near one of the old mines
Restored old mining buildings

We made it down to Morwellham Quay, the site of what used to be a busy bustling port – shipping copper to Swansea to be smelted, and receiving other goods such as coal from Wales. Today it’s a museum, with carefully restored mining artefacts and (when there is no Covid), theatre and exhibits depicting life for the mine workers and their families.

Mark had read that the pub, The Ship Inn, had just reopened its doors to the public, and spotting empty benches and an open door, checked to see whether they were serving yet. It was 11.30am, but yes indeed, two half pints of a locally brewed beer were soon drawn and we enjoyed those sitting outside on the cobbled streets.

A half pint of the very tasty Morwell Quay Ale enjoyed

It was very quiet on this afternoon, just a few people camping in the nearby field, and none of the usual attractions open. We explored what we could around the quay, all very interesting and somewhat hard to imagine with the river not looking deep enough to cater to much more than small pleasure boats, much less the huge ships required to transport goods.

Exploring more restored mining memorabilia
On this sleepy afternoon it is hard to imagine the busy port this once was
The rain kicked in on our return walk, but I still managed to pick some fresh blackberries to go with my dairy-free ice cream!

The following day was wet and drizzly, our location high up on the edge of Dartmoor meaning we were surrounded by cloud and fog. We caught a bus into Tavistock to have a look around the Pannier Markets and shops. It’s such a shame the experience has been tainted by this virus. Masks have to be adorned, the market stalls have been halved to allow for social distancing, and people are somewhat on edge. I think the whole experience of not being able to see peoples’ faces has tainted perceptions. A visage hidden behind a mask can look threatening and unfriendly and sadly that is how we were treated in a few of the stores. We didn’t spend long in town, stopping only for lunch in a cafe and returning to Truffy earlier than anticipated.

Friday morning we woke early for us (before 7am!) as fine weather was promised and we had an exciting day planned.

Our view up on the hill at sunrise, looking down at the misty valley below

We cycled to the next village of Gunnislake and caught the train from there into Plymouth.

Gunnislake is the end of the line

Face coverings are required on trains, and I didn’t much fancy wearing a hot mask for the best part of an hour. I experimented with my scarf, which worked quite nicely.

Still covered, but much airier than a tight fitting mask

Neither of us can remember ever visiting Plymouth before and were both impressed on arrival. It was a short cycle from the train station down to the front, adorned with magnificent hotels with incredible views.

A sparkling Friday morning
Beautiful scenes from Hoe Park
Hoe Park and hotels with commanding views

We explored around the Barbican area, a buzzing harbourside suburb

Perfect reflections in the marina – an approaching thunder storm making for dramatic colours
The cobbled streets and cafes of Plymouth’s Barbican area
Looking out towards Clovelly Bay – a ferry goes across to here

We had an explore around the foreshore, enjoying the authenticity of the port buildings and fish markets, not simply providing sights for tourists. When the storm hit, we ducked into a pub to find lunch.

Sated, we set off on our way back to Tavistock. We rode along National Cycle Route 27, following a section known as Drake‘s Trail, named after Sir Frances Drake, the famous Elizabethan seafarer. The track is a 33km (21 mile) route which winds through riverside fauna, forest and through part of Dartmoor National Park.

Mark cycling along the River Plym estuary, home to many birds
The half way marker
More threatening skies as we ride across the edge of Dartmoor

It was a great day out, and we left Plymouth keen to visit again. It is such an interesting city – with islands, forts, and a lot of history to explore. It’s on our list for a longer trip in the future.

A hot day dawned on Saturday so we had a chilled out day. Next month I have been invited to present at an online conference (for the Patient Centred Outcomes Research Institute – PCORI) about conducting research via the rare disease support group I run, so worked on my biography and presentation, while we caught up with the washing before the next rain arrives.

5-10 May: Our seventh week in Somerset

Author: Mrs A

Location: West Bagborough, Somerset, UK

Can the world really take this opportunity for a once in a generation change for the better? Will more people begin to travel by electric car or instead work from home, and those with shorter distances to work jump on a bike (or e-bike) or walk instead? Can this cleaner air and quieter environment we’re enjoying be more permanent?

It seems the UK hopes so. Breathing in air pollution, particularly from diesel engines (nitrogen dioxides) and micro particles (PM2.5 – from brake pads being applied and wear and tear of tyres), is responsible for contributing to an estimated 9,500 deaths per year. The worst affected areas are unsurprisingly around London and the south-east of England, and the cleanest in the north of Scotland.

UK ambient air quality: NO2 and PM2.5 annual mean concentration
Source: Defra, 2019. Background mapping for local authorities.

Since the lockdown began, some areas of the UK have already seen a 70% increase in cycle journeys. Mark and I have certainly been enjoying our 5km (3mile) each way ride to our local shops. And we have mentioned time and time again over our period here how much we are enjoying this clean air.

Selfishly, as people who enjoy being more in touch with the world the way cycling allows, we wholeheartedly support this approach. We would also relish the clean air that comes with more electric vehicles and bikes on the road.

The announcement of a £2 billion package to encourage cycling and walking – including pop up bike lanes, cycle and bus only streets, requirements for councils to create safer streets is also welcomed. If only we saw something like this in Sydney. Our friends there already have mentioned noticing an increase in air pollution, and the lockdown there is not yet fully lifted. I for one have often been deterred from cycling in Sydney because of the lack of safety on the roads. It’s so encouraging seeing the humble bike being one of the answers to getting the country moving again here.

Electric vehicles should help with reducing pollution too. The top two cars sold in the UK last month were both electric, with plans for increased numbers of charging points to support this in the future. I know that Mark and I would definitely go electric with our next vehicle, with Mr A already getting excited about the Tesla Model Y SUV. In contrast, the two best sellers in Australia were big Toyota gas guzzlers, with distance often blamed for the slow adoption of electric.

Less traffic means less noise of course, which for us, is one of the most stressful elements of city life. I read an article the other day which revealed the impact of city noise on birdsong with our feathered friends in city locations found to be singing at higher pitch to be heard over traffic (when compared to their country cousins). They also have been heard to sing faster and shorter songs.

A blue tit chasing lunch on one of our walks around the lanes

With the lockdown still firmly in place, we have continued with our regular walks around the neighbourhood, traffic slightly increasing as people choose to travel further afield for walks, but still not too bad.

We’re still enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of the country as the season progresses, waking up in the morning to birdsong and the little cries of lambs.

This season‘s lambs becoming brave and cheeky as they get older. This pair lives about 50 metres from our cottage at the moment.
The new crops are just starting to pop up through the rich soil
Some of the many gates and entrance ways we pass through on our walks
Dead Nettle – the tips of these plants (just the leaves) can be boiled up and apparently taste a bit like spinach. The plants have evolved to look like Stinging Nettles to evade predators.
The most perfect lawn ever, at the back of the Old Rectory in West Bagborough. We admire this every time we pass.
Red Campion (silène dioica) will be around for a few months, adding a welcome splash of colour to the hedgerows
I’ve seen these oak apples on oak trees most of my life, and only now realise they are the result of a gall wasp laying eggs into a developing bud. The larvae live safely inside here before hatching out when the ‘apple’ becomes dry and hard.
Délicate pink cow parsley makes a change from the usual white. These flower until late June so we have a couple of months to enjoy these wildflowers.
Vetch – or ‘Poor man’s peas’ – these were among the first crops farmed by neolithic people

We did a fabulous e-bike ride in the last week as well, not long in distance (only 30km/18.6 miles) but very steep – and yes, before you say it, you do have to work hard even with a motor on your bike! (Strava link here)

Looping north through a couple of villages, we climbed up over the Quantock Hills, closer to the coast than we have ever been. Here, the heather and grass covered tops are fairly free from trees, but with the usual Exmoor Ponies and horse trekkers about.

Apparently I got an award on Strava (the app I am using to track hikes and rides) for being the 4th fastest e-bike rider up the Crowcombe Hill segment – if only I knew, I would not have stopped halfway up to take my coat off! Must try it again, and faster!
A sandwich and cup of tea at the top

The trees reemerged beside the road as we reaped the reward of a wonderful long downhill towards the village of Over Stowey.

An emerald tunnel

Down in the foothills, I was keen to visit the location of an old motte (raised earthwork with a stone keep on top) and bailey (a courtyard in a ditch, protected by a wooden wall) castle, built in the 12th century by Alfred of Spain (actually a French noble from Normandy, not a Spanish one).

Nether Stowey Castle was next lived in by the lord of the Manor of Stowey, who then abandoned it in the mid 1400s. Much of the stone from the original buildings was used to build what is now a grand manor house in the village, Stowey Court, the lord’s new home.

Not much remains of the castle other than a grass covered mound and ditch, but you can see the wonderful views they would have enjoyed.

Looking across the countryside from where the wooden stake wall would have been
Can see the mound (to the left) and the ditch where the courtyard would have been.

Friday 8 May was VE (Victory in Europe) day, when Germany’s forces surrendered unconditionally to the allied forces, marking the end of World War II. This time last year we were in Reims in France, watching a rather sombre ceremony in the pouring rain.

This year was different all together. No marches, or ceremonies of remembrance, but still the bunting decorated the village and there were some socially distanced celebrations.

Pretty bunting down the street
You can’t be unhappy with bunting this pretty

As we enter our eighth week here, the lockdown looks to continue for some weeks (or months?) more. The good news for us is that there are now slightly lifted restrictions which will allow us to drive to get out and about for our outdoor exercise. It looks like we might be able to see a little more of the immediate region while we are here after all.