History – When the Cat's Away…

September 24, 2024October 6, 2024

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

Location: Edinburgh and the Orkney Islands, Scotland

Author: Mrs A

Ok, I admit we are a little late posting this, but it has been a very busy summer! We are now on another holiday, this time in France, so I have had a few moments to reflect on our July trip. It will be in 3 parts due to the many photos!

4 July: Off to bonny Scotland

While we officially booked this trip in October last year, the initial seeds for exploring the archipelago of Orkney were sewn back during the Covid lockdown of 2020 when my cousin was working hard to explore our ancestry. She was able to trace on our mother’s side back to Orkney, stumbling on direct links to the King of Norway back in the 1500s. Very exciting! Mark always called me a princess, and now I know I am (or the tip of my little finger is, at least!).

Finally this much anticipated trip was upon us, and we took an EasyJet flight up from Bristol to Edinburgh and checked into our hotel. We had two nights before boarding a short flight over to Orkney Mainland.

Dinner was a fabulous seafood feast at Fishers in the City, somewhere I had eaten at in 2019, but was very keen to bring Mark for our incredible meal of fresh oysters, scallops, squid and other local delicacies.

Dinner didn’t disappoint – even Mr A said it was one of the finest dining experiences he has consumed

5 July: Edinburgh’s underworld

Edinburgh is a bustling and pedestrian-friendly city with a variety of shops, overlooked by the magnificent castle on top of an extinct volcano.

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

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

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

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

6 July: Another day, another flight

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

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

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

7 July: Westray reveals its wonders

It was an early start for a huge Scottish breakfast, before loading our walking and photography gear into the back of a mini bus and meeting our fellow hikers for the week; three single ladies, one single man and another couple. The supermarket was our next stop, to pick up yet more food to make up our picnic for the day. This pattern continued all week.

Next it was off to board our ferry to the Isle of Westray, a 90 minute ride away from Orkney Mainland.

In between the gloomy skies, glimpses of sunshine turning the water into glittering diamonds

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

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

A cuddly looking calf watches on curiously as we walk past

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

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

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

Northern Fulmar – Rarely seen from land except at colonies such as this – the male is beaded with water droplets, fresh from catching fish for his partner

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

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

Razorbills having a chat on the edge of the cliff. If you look carefully into the shadowy crevice, you will spot an Atlantic Puffin listening in!

A Northern Gannet soars along the coastline before diving torpedolike into the ocean for fish.

A male Gannet has just brought food to his partner on the cliffs

Rain jacket and waterproof trousers blocked the wind quite nicely, along with the essential wooly hat!

We were dressed up warm against the cold wind that seemed to be ever present in the Orkneys, the treeless land offering little shelter or resistance, but once mesmerised by the birds, forgot all about the temperatures.

You could sit and watch the interaction between the birds for hours, accompanied by a constant cacophony of calls

And, of course, the Puffins! They showed up in their comical way, like little clowns with their brightly coloured beaks and legs and yellow cheek spots.

And suddenly a Puffin appears on the cliff beside us! He’s in full breeding colours with white face and bright yellow cheek and a white extension to the beak between the black and red colouring.

You know that classic picture of a Puffin with a bunch of fish in its beak? Well, I didn’t capture that one – just this one holding a feather!

It was hard to tear ourselves away, but after consuming our lunches we continued on our walk.

Mr A chatting to our fascinating guide, Alayne, who was a great storyteller with a lot of knowledge about the islands

A short drive in our minibus took us to the ruins of a castle with a chequered history. Noltland Castle was built for Gilbert Balfour, master of Mary Queen of Scots’ household in the late 16th century. Apparently 71 gun holes dot the walls, making it as much of a fortress as a manor house. Apparently he was quite paranoid about being murdered!

Commanding views across the relatively flat landscape

After leaving this castle, we were taken on a short walk to another one – Castle o’Burrian, a squat sea stack with a bustling Atlantic Puffin colony. We sat on the cliff edge watching in wonder at the birds as they made their clumsy, fluttering flight, sitting amongst the sea pinks and grasses, and taking many photos.

Puffin kisses – rubbing beaks to show affection – apparently they mate for life and this is a bonding ritual they undertake after being out at sea

A non-Puffin! Walking along the cliff back to our minibus we get the feeling we are being watched…and indeed we are. Far beneath us is a seal. There are two types found in Orkney; the Grey Seal and the Common/Harbour seal. About 15% of the world’s population of Grey seal lives here, and they are well known for following in the water as people walk along the shore!

Our final destination before our journey back was to a tiny museum which, among many other incredible discoveries, housed Scotland’s earliest representation of a human form, uncovered at an archaeological dig in 2009.

The Westray Wife – found at the Links of Noltland. Made from sandstone

A ferry back to Mainland, and dinner in a local restaurant concluded our day by 10pm, just in time for sunset.

8th July – Scara Brae and Stromness

Our start was a little later this morning, as we didn’t need to catch any ferries, our day entirely on Mainland.

Can you spot Twatt? Apparently the sign has been stolen so many times they no longer use one!

The day dawned bright and sunny, and although the wind remained, it felt quite a bit warmer and so one or two less layers were donned.

We started off with a drive across to the north-west of the island, where we did a spectacular coast walk to another major bird colony.

Our walk’s start point affords us a great view of Old Man Hoy, a sea stack off the coast of the island of Hoy

A huge Northern Gannet colony on the cliffs – the noise is incredible!

There are many wild rabbits on this part of the island, including several black ones we spotted. There are no major raptors around to catch them, since the last Golden Eagle failed to rear chicks and died out in 1982.

The huge seabird colony at Marwick Head – turn up your sound for the full effect! Up on top of the headland is the Kitchener Memorial, built to commemorate the HMS Hampshire which hit a mine in Marwick Bay in 1916. It sunk in just 15 minutes, resulting in more than 700 lives lost.

Black-legged Kittiwakes perch alongside Razorbills on precarious and often uncomfortable looking ledges, raising their young

Finishing our walk we headed down to Sand Geo, a beach by some old fisherman’s huts for our lunch. Out of the wind it was almost warm! The huts themselves date to the 1800s and were designed as shelters for the local fisherman, house boats and equipment.

A non highland cow using a bull as a pillow

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

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

The site sits on the edge of a white sand bay

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

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

The houses had curved walls, not corners as seen on the right hand side, and no windows. The ‘dresser’ front and centre of the room was thought to display precious things, the beds surrounding the fire in the centre of the home

The house from which the village was first discovered is called Skaill House, and in it I was able to find a huge family tree on a wall which mentioned people on my family tree. By this stage I have lost trace of what relative Bishop Honeyman was, but we certainly have Honeyman genes in us somewhere!

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

The family tree, which somehow leads to me on the Honeyman side

Our route took us on another short walk, this time to another magnificent sea stack along the coast, with some fauna and flora unique to Orkney along the way.

Yesnaby Castle sea stack – we watched the three kayakers explore the caves in the cliff

I wonder how long until this completely collapses?

When you get close to the ground you see it is rich in tiny plants and flowers, all adapted to existing in these harsh conditions – the purple flowers are wild thyme, the yellow are Tormentil

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

This bee didn’t look well, but was alive. It is an endangered Moss Carder Bumblebee, and only found in the far northwest of the Scottish mainland, Orkney and some of the Hebridean islands.

We jumped back into the bus for our final destination for the day, the small town of Stromness, where more people from my family tree lived, and then sailed from to Canada to become founding members of the European settlers there.

It was just spine tingling seeing the well from which the ships would have filled up their water for the journey, and finding the oldest house in Stromness, which would have been modern in my ancestors time, and perhaps somewhere they would have visited.

The entrance to the oldest remaining house in Stromness – built in 1716 and known as the Miller’s House

It’s easy to delve down rabbit holes on the interweb and a quick read about the time my ancestors would have lived there reveals a town with no sewerage, little fresh water, and no indoor sanitisation. Not a hard place to leave, once would assume, when invited to settle a new land with the promise of fine farmland and adventures across the oceans.

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

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

May 26, 2024May 30, 2024

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!

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.

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.

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

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.

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…

December 11, 2022

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.

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.

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!

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.

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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.

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)

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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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September 6, 2022September 6, 2022

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

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.

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.

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

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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March 5, 2022

16 February-4 March: Three (yes, THREE!) named storms and settling in to our ’new’ life

Author: Mrs A

Location: Kingston St Mary, Somerset and Brighton, East Sussex, UK

The UK has been naming its’ severe weather events since 2015, having taken the idea from the USA. The season commences in September, with the first major event beginning with the letter A, and then continues throughout the year (names never start with letters Q, U, X, Y or Z), to date never going beyond the letter K before resetting in September.

Since our last post, 12 days ago, the UK has encountered Dudley (17/2 just Scotland and the North of England), Eunice (18/2) and Franklin (21/2)! Despite the dramatic news headlines you may have heard, we fortunately escaped unscathed.

Storm Eunice apporaching – source MET Office

The afternoon before the arrival of Eunice, I left Mr A in Somerset and took the train from Taunton up to London and across down to Brighton to catch up with my sister and her family there. It’s been about 18 months since we last saw one another in person, and the children are growing up so quickly.

A stormy afternoon painting – artworks from artists aged 8 to 48!

It was a lovely relaxing weekend, with walks with the dog, and just enjoying one anothers’ company – the usual pressure of trying to maximise every second eased by our migration. I even bumped into an old friend from Uni on one of our morning walks, she was coincidentally doing a run in the same area.

Cocoa racing around the hillside and an inpromptu catch up with a friend

Helen and I had a lunch out in the Brighton North Laine area

Cocoa and Helen took me on a walk around Preston Park, Manor and the nearby church

The time flew by, and before long it was time to farewell Helen, Stu and the children and train it up to London to meet Mark.

Several weeks ago Mark had read an article which talked about an upcoming exhibition at the British Museum in London; ‘Stonehenge’. Mark travelled up from Taunton on a train that had been speed-limited to 50mph (because of the potential for post-storm branches on the line) and taken twice the time it should have done, and I met him in central London.

It was a wet Sunday evening and we headed into Chinatown for duck pancakes and then a basement cocktail bar for a drink.

Glistening London – could be a painting in the making

We find an underground cocktail bar and discover where all the people are hiding

On Monday morning, we walked from our hotel up to the British Museum and the exhibition. We had pre-purchased our timed tickets online, but on arrival saw a long queue snaking along the road. Mark spoke to one of the security guards who recommended heading instead to the entrance at the rear of the building. We strolled around and walked in with no queue at all – good tip for future visits!

It was an excellent exhibition which made use of multimedia, sounds, lights, and videos to bring the artefacts on display to life. One of the key messages we took from ’Stonehenge’ was just how migration has always been a part of the British and continental European heritage – DNA investigations into bones of people buried beside Stonehenge show that some were born in Spain in the Pyrenees, while others were born in the UK but spent time in Spain and other countries. Many of the techniques used in the creation of jewellery, weapons and stonemasonry were developed and shared many hundreds of miles away, showing how people were likely travelling more than most of us in the past two years!

Axe heads, carvings in stone and the little known Seahenge, uncovered on a beach in Norfolk

Incredible jewellery and centre part of the Sweet Track from the Somerset Levels (dated to 3807 BCE)

We are looking forward to exploring some of the regions brought to life in this exhibition in the coming years.

Back in Somerset, our life has been focused on trying to find a house to buy…or as time progresses without anything suitable, looking at the very uninspiring rental market. As the weeks tick by with little to go and see, we are starting to feel the pressure of finding a longer term home. Our holiday rental is all well and good, but there is a definite deadline, after which we will need an alternative place to live.

We have managed to take some time out from scouring the property listings to do some local walks and a spot of bird photography too.

A handsome Great-Tit perches artfully on a bramble

A Long-tailed tit flies down for some food left out on a log

A tiny little Tree-Creeper scurries up a vertical trunk, hunting for insects

A Jackdaw enjoying some late afternoon sunshine

Despite having the typical wintry weather (including some sleet and light snow) we also have had some spectacular sunshine. We did a great 12km walk last weekend from our front door, following ancient footpaths across fields and quiet lanes.

Mr A makes a hiking friend at the start of our walk

We climb up and enjoy fabulous views from our picnic spot in a field

We finished up our walk at our local pub, The Swan, which was just finishing up a busy Sunday lunch. The Landlord is an ex Royal Marine and several of his old colleagues live nearby, and one also employed as the pub’s chef. It’s a great atmosphere there, where everyone welcomes you like family, and Mark and I certainly feel like we have made friends already.

This week we actually made an offer on a gorgeous property, but suspect we will be severely outbid on this occasion. It’s been the first house to really tick all our boxes – plenty of space for visitors, good energy efficiency, walking distance to a great village and pub and yet within an easy drive to Taunton train station for trips up to London. We’ll hear for sure next week after they have shown another 20 or so interested parties around.

Mid week we paid a visit to the Somerset Levels and an RSPB wetlands site – Greylake. Despite a chilly wind blowing across the water, there were plenty of people camped out in the bird hides with their spotting scopes, binoculars and telephoto lenses. We fit right in, other than the fact we don’t know what birds we are looking at! We spent an entranced hour watching Little Grebes, White Swans, Egrets and vast flocks of Wigeons (ducks) all in their fabulous breeding colours. Just magnificent. Of course, the usual woodland birds were there as well, with a lovely little European Robin posing for a photo on some brambles.

And we have takeoff! For some reason the Wigeon decide to launch themselves off in their thousands

How on earth do they find a space to fly in?

One Wigeon is tired of all the flying around and dozes on the water’s edge

An European Robin hops over to see us off

We’re finding it is increasingly important to step away from our property searching to enjoy some pure and simple nature, reminding us why we love this area. This coming weekend we have another reminder coming up – 28 members of our family will be joining us to help celebrate my birthday…and it’s not even a big one! We’ll share all the news from that in our next post 🙂

Category: History

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

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

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

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

16 February-4 March: Three (yes, THREE!) named storms and settling in to our ’new’ life

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