A Carpet Of Crocuses

Arrangements were made, the car duly packed and off we set. Off to Yorkshire for a week to stay with a friend and to walk some dales and moors.

Our first excursion was to Lime Kiln quarry where we saw this huge hole in the ground, not as large as some in the world, but big enough to impress! 

My wife and I bought ourselves some serious looking gumboots. They are rated to be comfortable to 20C below freezing and are the first pair that I, with my wonky feet, have been able to wear for any length of time. So having acquired ourselves the Rolls-Royce of Wellingtons, we needed to put them through their paces and there is nothing like the Yorkshire moors for this. We decided to do a 2.5 hour walk culminating with a visit to the ruins of Bolton Abbey and began with an easy stroll over some fields to the woods.

What neither we, nor the people who had rated the walk "an easy two and a half hour walk" in the guide book, took into account was the lengthy period of rain that had preceded our little rambling. We soon left the woods behind and crossed some pastures with the ubiquitous north Yorkshire flocks of sheep and dry-stone walls, which hold an intense fascination for me. The walls, not the sheep! Them, I leave to my dear wife to spin and knit into all sorts of wonderful things.

Here is the lord of the manner surveying all he owns..... Please take note of the new cap, bought specially for this photo-shoot! And the gumboots...

However, at the top of the hill, things became a tad less easy, as the footpath which was barely discernible at times crossed what I recognised as an area of distinct wetland. We did attempt to follow the track. Honestly, we did. However, even with our gumboots it soon became apparent that this would not work, so we eased around the field close to the walls, trying to step from tussock to tussock, but at times sinking deep into the mire.

And on and on. And on. One field of mucky mire led to the next, followed by another and another. The views we were presented with, however were astounding, as we reached the high point between two separate Dales and had views the length and breadth up and down both. This shot below is from halfway back down into Wharfedale.

Eventually we found ourselves off the moor and back at the Wharfe river, which has a very civilised walking track laid out so we managed to pick up our pace a bit, encouraged by the fact that our car was in a parking area that was locked at 4:30 p.m.! Yet we still saw some delightful things along the way, including some Mandarin ducks.

It was with great relief that Bolton Abbey ruins hove into view. This is just one of many ruins of previously magnificent abbeys that were destroyed on the orders of King Henry VIII in the Dissolution. 

The ghosts of the great abbeys dot the countryside throughout England but seem to be much more common here in North Yorkshire. Maybe it had something to do with the air? Possibly also the area was (is) good for the raising of sheep and during that time, wool was worth it's weight in gold, if not more and English wool was in the greatest demand.

Anyway an easy 2.5 hour walk took us only 4.5 hours and trust me, I slept like a baby that night!

As we were in Harrogate, which has some terrific displays of crocuses, we took a walk into the town and refreshed ourselves with a coffee and I was captivated by the threefold reflection of the Union flag in the car directly in front of our table.

But Harrogate in the springtime is dominated by crocuses in massed displays.

The beauty of each bloom can only really be seen close up.

The town has a long wide area called The Stray and it has these mass plantings along all of it's edges.

And in some areas, different colours dominated.

Just because I am a Harry Potter fan, I wanted to go to and see the Ribblehead Viaduct and although it was rainy and misty, that lent a bit of dramatic atmosphere to the scene.

Another day saw us taking a stroll along footpaths in Nidderdale. This time we cleverly chose a walk that didn't go through so much wetland and we had a much more enjoyable walk, only getting semi-lost on one occassion. Even that was lovely as we saw some delightful little scenes like this river, glinting in the sunlight while we walked through the woods

This was a happy girl (we hadn't yet discovered we needed to turn back!) enjoying being out and about in this wonderful area.

Nearing the end of the walk we passed a number of pastures delimited with the usual stone walls (have I mentioned that I love them?). This old oak tree had grown up in the middle of one of them. 

On our last day we took a walk in the gardens of another old Abbey, this time it was Fountains Abbey, which was a splendid visit, with its water, manicured lawns and ruins. 

It is a really imposing old building and must have been awe-inspiring in its day.

My trusty walking companions took time out to pose for me. Thanks for the hospitality and great company, Lynda!

The old storage area of the abbey is called the Cellarium and is highly photogenic, with its columns and stone roof.

Those old wals are not solid stone, having only a facade of worked stone. 

The inside is filled with concrete (invented by the Romans, if you didn't know).

Fountains Abbey itself is situated near the city of Ripon and such was the power of the clergy that they were able to do things such as having an area cleared to make it possible to view Ripon Cathedral from the church of St Mary's, on the hill in the gardens of Fountains Abbey.

We really are blessed to live in a country that has such beauty and history almost underfoot with every step we take!

Yarn, hills and lakes

First of all, to set the scene. For those of you who don't know, the Lake District is an area in the north west of England, just below Scotland. Now that we all know where this little story is set, we can begin.

A long, long time ago, this part of the world was cold, frigid in fact. Covered in ice, glaciers flowing to the seas. Grinding away at the earth beneath with their massive weight, creating long narrow valleys which have filled with water once these cold slinky monsters melted. These are now the lakes and tarns of this area. Here endeth the lesson.

So, some vacation was due and as there was a yarn show in the area, SWIMBO decided (with a little input from me) that we should visit the Lake District. OK, so that's not the entire truth of how we decided to go there, but it works for me. 

We drove up on a Friday morning, up the highways and had the usual nightmarish experiences going past Birmingham and Manchester, but eventually arrived at the self-catering cottage just outside of Kendal. It was a building with walls about 3 or 4 feet thick, converted from old farm outbuildings into a pair of cottages.  A pleasant night's sleep found us back on the road, heading back Southwards to Skipton where the Yarndale show was being held. There was quite a traffic jam getting into the show, which ought to have warned us as to what we should have expected. A quick cup of coffee and a sandwich and then we entered the show, which was held in the Skipton Agricultural auction market. The entrance was a riot of colour, with all the bunting having been crocheted.

The colours inside the show just continued to be quite amazing too.

There were a few of the providers of the raw materials on show too. This was one of several in a pen, just quietly chewing the cud.

As always with these shows there were plenty of stuff on show/for sale and some of them were a little more photogenic than others. I liked the "booties in a box".

The show was pretty good, as these things go, but incredibly crowded and very soon we began to feel like this: 

The following day we headed off west into the Yorkshire Dales to the Masham show. Here they had an Aussie doing travelling sheep shearing exhibition.  How unusual! It was entertaining.

In the streets we were regaled by what turned out to be a blend of belly dancing and Morris dancing, among others.  

We felt we needed to get to see the area around where we were staying and found some delightful scenes. I even got this one, with an interested local.

Then we began our real Lake District experience, by driving through the valleys and around lakes. What a setting this is to live in!

We almost accidentally found this dam, actually Blea Tarn, to walk around. Great big hills all around, trees lower down and a nice civilised path to walk along. This helps when one is having troubles with hips etc. It allows you to get out and enjoy it all, without the hassle of trying to negotiate more difficult up and down terrain, so was very appealing.

The path (visible to the right, below) took us around the tarn and as we went through a gate in a fence we heard the distinctive twang of Seffrican accents. We had a little chat to fellow travellers, then having done the civilised path trick quite succesfully, decided we could clamber up to the top of the hill above. This is the view back to the tarn.

The rocks were all covered with different lichens and mosses. This one has barely any rock face on show, but is covered with different coloured lichens.

From the top of the hill, the view to the other side was amazing. A long valley (Lang Dale) stretched to the right and on the left was hemmed in by some enormous hills before curling off to the side. 

This is another shot, closer in, looking down into Lang Dale from the hill above.

To someone who enjoys wood craft, there are some lovely little touches on display. This is the side panel of a bench that has been carved to indicate that the wildlife depend on plants, butterflies, fungi and the roots below to obtain water and nourishment.

In Wensleydale (famous for it's cheeses), flows the river Ure. 

This river takes a number of plunges in a series of 3 falls in a one-mile stretch. Known as Aysgarth Falls (as they are at the village of that name) they are quite beautiful. This is the Middle Falls.

We drove some spectacular roads in the Lake District. Lots of single track, twisty-turny-windy roads on some rather steep inclines at time. This is near the top of the Wrynose Pass, looking down the Duddon river valley. 

England's highest point, Scafell Pike, can be seen in the distance. In the foreground is one of those strange beasts, a budding photographer, in it's blue phase.

From the village of Ambleside (which boasts the best sticky toffee apple cake ever), a short walk takes you out to yet another gully and river. Exceedingly pretty and a lovely walk.

With delightful little pools along the way.

Leading up to Stock Ghyll waterfalls. It was a delightful and very pleasant walk, with a wonderful reward at the end. 

Again we found ourselves at the top of a pass. This is Kirkstone Pass. As you look, the valley disappears into a series of twists and turns with the hills along the sides all the way. Superb!

Coniston Water, as with a lot of the lakes, has a number of little islands (isles?) and this one took my fancy. 

We ate lunch in Coniston, then walked along the edge of the lake, at times in amongst the trees - pine, beech, oak.

There are steamboats still powering up and down as ferries or pleasure boats.

I have come across a number of photographs taken of jetties in Coniston Water, so when I found one that I had access to, I could not resist and tried my hand at it too.  

A wonderful break, a delightful introduction to the delights offered by the Lake District and we will most certainly be heading back there at some point. There are more passes to drive, more hills to climb.....

A little stroll from Osmington Mills

We had a choice of where to walk. One was inland, near Cerne Abbas, including the Cerne Giant in all his magnificence, or along the South West Coast path, with sea views, dramatic cliffs and hills.   We chose the latter, being creatures who enjoy the sea. So we headed off to Osmington Mills, supposedly the haunt of smugglers in day gone by (isn't every slightly out-of-the-way place on the coast?). From there we strode bravely in an easterly direction through the Smugglers Inn pub grounds and out onto the Coast Path to be met by something described in the little book we had used to decide upon which walk to do, as a gentle hill, but actually looked like a monster of a hill! A good way to start a walk, with a gentle hill to get the pulse going. Once at the top the going was easy, rolling along towards Ringstead Bay.  The walk was done on the UK holiday named so poetically as Summer Bank Holiday. Those with an inquisitive streak can look here to see why public holidays in the UK are called Bank Holidays. The swallows are obviously beginning to prepare themselves for their long migration down to Southern Africa and are resting up.

From Ringstead Bay we continued East, up a rather bigger and steeper hill than before, for which my aerobic system will forever be grateful! I have to admit I took a few long breathes at the top while wondering why I was doing this. However the views back towards where we had started and beyond to Weymouth were stunning, to say the least.

There were any number of people out on the water, enjoying themselves, while we slogged away at the top of the hill. A good few kayakers were out and about too. It certainly looked like a wonderful way to spend an afternoon to me.

This hilltop remained quite flat for a mile or so, until it began to form itself into a series of up and down bumps along the coast, creating a dramatic vista. Just peeking out of the top of the chalk cliff in the top of the photo below is Durdle Door, a very picturesque and scenic place along this coast.

It was about here that we turned around, as we needed to get back before the light went. Whatever happened to my scouting "always be prepared" tricks? Out in the late afternoon without a torch? Tut tut! 

Back at Ringstead bay, the sun was getting very low and looking back where we had come from, the chalk cliffs were now glowing orange in the light. There is an old 2nd Word War lookout point on the top of the hill, barely visible towards the end of the flat bit. There are a number of these scattered all along the coast, to prevent those pesky Huns from sneaking in without being seen!

We may not get quite the dramatic sunsets that I have experienced in the African evenings, but the ones we do get are not half bad, either! All afternoon there had been a cloud depositing a little rain over towards Weymouth, but it provided us with some glorious views on our way back. 

As it sunk below the clouds, we had one more opportunity to stop and take in the beauty laid out before us. We spent some time here, taking pictures until a battery died....

Just had to throw this one in too. To me it looked like there was a great big fire in the cloud. I suppose, give or take 93 million miles or so, I was right!

Well that was it. 4 hours or so of sheer delight. I am already planning to go back and do some more walking there.