Travels – Mick and Liesel's Antics

East Wallhouses to Chollerton to Steel Rigg

What a cliff-hanger at the end of the last post, eh? I left us standing outside the Robin Hood Inn at East Wallhouses. The rhythm of the week was to be breakfast, walk, shower, dinner, sleep, breakfast, walk, shower, dinner, sleep and so on, leaving no time, nor energy, to write much at the end of the day.

One of the joys we missed out on throughout the trip was collecting rubber stamps. An organised person would have brought a little book or passport along to stamp at various points along the route. Not me. Unusually, I didn’t even have any scraps of paper with me. On the other hand, the compulsion to find a stamp at each point wasn’t there.

Hadrian’s Wall Walk was well signposted, we all looked out for the identifying white acorn, as seen on the stamp box above. Our guide book was ‘Hadrian’s Wall Path’ by Henry Stedman. It’s very detailed in terms of where to go and what to look out for, so I won’t repeat all that information here. But, if you’re tired, I suppose you could easily miss one vital turn, and end up in Scotland or Yorkshire. But I’m pleased to say, that didn’t happen to us. On this occasion.

As I mentioned, on this third day we followed a main road, but we walked on grass and well-worn paths rather than the hard surface. It was interesting to find that the road was actually on top of the wall in places. An excavation revealed the wall, and was left open for us visitors to enjoy.

Trying to explain semaphore to Americans was… challenging. David Bailey here wanted them to replicate the Beatles’ Help album cover picture.

When we say ‘Jyoti is in the bricklayer’s arms’, we don’t mean she’s having a quick pint down at the local. No, we met Gavin, a dry-stone wall builder with 28 years’ experience. Jyoti was very excited to be allowed to lay a stone. So, if this wall collapses soon, you know who to blame. Actually, it was interesting to meet a real craftsman.

Some fields are full of sheep and evidence of sheep, but we did find some untainted meadows too.

We arrived at the George Hotel Inn, Chollerford, ready for a lie down and a shower before dinner.

We were warned that Day 4 was the most strenuous stage, as well as being the second longest at 12 miles. So after breakfast, we all took a deep breath and set off in a westerly direction, marvelling at the weather which was ideal.

On the hill leading to the Temple of Mithras, we came across some very pretty flowers.

I wouldn’t have identified them as orchids, but I’m very grateful to the more botanically aware member of our team.

As well as looking down while walking, avoiding obstacles and holes and manure, and looking around at signs of the Wall and its forts and lookout towers, we were admiring the views, to the north and to the south.

We encountered flies of many species, some copulating, but for some reason, the cavern that is my mouth was particularly attractive to them. A sign, yes, that I was breathing through my mouth due to the increased exertion today.

Brocolitia, the Roman Temple of Mithras, was fascinating, and a good pace to have a bit of a rest. Mithras, rather aptly is an anagram of what was quite a presence in the surrounding fields.

The Temple was built in about 200 AD, about 1823 years before Tammy paid a visit.

We encountered many people every day on the walk. Quite a few were, like us, taking 8 days or so to hike the whole route, while some others were obviously day-trippers. Many nations were represented, UK, USA, Canada, Norway, Germany, not to mention Manchester. Everyone says hello, some stop for a quick chat. And some were carrying ridiculously huge, heavy backpacks. Our bags were carried from venue to venue by a local haulage firm: all we had to do was make sure they were ready by 9 o’clock each morning.

Near Sewingshields Crags, we witnessed a lovely display of sheep herding. Most of the flock moved down the hill, but three stubborn sheep remained lying down, enjoying a late lunch of grass. The shepherd, on his 4-wheel-drive vehicle, didn’t notice them, and none of his dogs seemed to be that interested either. The five of us and many others observed from above, and one of the dogs ran right through the crowd. I think he may have been a trainee, misunderstanding the whistled commands.

We stopped at Housesteads Fort. This is the only part of Hadrian’s Wall that Liesel and I had visited before, once with Liesel’s parents. We arrived at the top end of the fort, and the car park was way off in the distance. No wonder Klaus was complaining on that occasion!

It was indeed a challenging hike today, it certainly had its ups and downs. Literally. But I think the hardest part were the dozens of stiles we had to climb over. Stiles, ladderstiles, some wood, some stone, some with very high climbs, not easy with old, tired lallies towards the end of a long day! We prefer gates, and we encountered mostly kissing gates.

More hills and crags and a lough before we reached Sycamore Gap. Here resides, apparently, the most photographed tree near Hadrian’s Wall, mainly because of its starring role in the film Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves. It’s a mere 20-minute horse ride from the white cliffs of Dover to this tree, according to the film. It’s not a documentary, then.

And a couple of hours later, what a beautiful, welcome sight. Our Steel Rigg digs for the night.

Inside, a signpost confirmed that we were (just) over halfway in our journey:

Today, we’d climbed the equivalent of 56 floors, according to some marvellous technology owned by Teresa, Tammy, Jyoti and Liesel. My pedometer just counts my steps and, for the first time in a few years, I exceeded 43,000 in one day.

Jumping ahead in time, the radio show this week is a celebration of Jenny’s very special birthday. With some very special guest appearances too. You can listen to the show here. Happy birthday, Jenny!

Newburn to East Wallhouses

It will take a while to adapt to these early starts. No lie-ins for a while. Our breakfast girl was very friendly and bonny and we fueled up well before setting off for Day 2.

Tyne Riverside Country Park was very quiet, apart from the birds and the wind rustling through the trees. Yes, we heard the odd loud vehicle, but that didn’t detract from our enjoyment of the countryside and the fresh air.

A lot of the path was along a disused railway line, so very straight for long periods.

Every now and then, we caught a glimpse of a bright yellow field, rapeseed. Glimpse? The yellow flowers just draw your gaze, they’re so bright.

We encountered our first serious hills today too. Nothing too onerous, I just find a rhythm and stick to it, until I have to stop or change my pace. I think we all have our optimum speeds on different terrain, but on the whole, our group of five stuck together very well.

Heddon-on-the-Wall: I wonder why it was so-called? We followed a sign and snuck behind a hedge and saw the first secton of Roman Wall that we knew to be genuine. This was an exciting moment for us!

One thing they’re not short of in the north of England is sheep.

Lots of lambs, and a surprising number of twins, as far as we could see. Sometimes though, the sheep looked a bit other-worldly.

At the risk of repeating myself, the views were spectacular today.

But never mind the views of the landscape, one thing I noticed was that in just two days, Tammy had gone through five different hairstyles. And while we ate dinner later on, a sixth one, a French plait executed by Jyoti, was on display!

It rained very slightly and ponchos and raincoats and backpack covers were deployed. Thankfully, it didn’t last long and we arrived at our final destination for the day, the Robin Hood Inn at East Wallhouses.

Our tired and achy bodies enjoyed a drink and a meal before taking to bed early.

As the week went on, the walking days became longer, and so I neglected this blog. I will catch up properly when we get home.

I know you’ll want to know about this week’s broadcast Wythenshawe Radio show, which I recorded a long time ago now, or so it seems. The theme was,of course, Walking and you can listen right here.

The same guy that served us last night brought our breakfasts this morning. I don’t think he has a home to go to. But he did very kindly take a group photo for us outside the Robin Hood Inn.

Thanks Tammy for the picture!

Most of the walk that day followed a main road, the B6318, so traffic noise was a potential problem. But in the end, it wasn’t such a big deal. The path stayed close to the road, with a wall or something separating us. It was sometimes muddy, sometimes grassy, and on the whole, much more comfortable to walk on for long stretches than the road itself.

To be continued…

Northenden to Newcastle to Newburn

One day to go before our next Big Adventure and I spent a couple of hours prepping the next radio show. I’ll be away from the Home Studio for a while and I’ll only have a small window of opportunity to finish it before the deadline. Apart from that, packing the right amount of stuff was the order of the day.

We’re going for a long walk so of course, this was the perfect opportunity to buy a new pair of trainers. It’s not the done thing to go on a major hike with shoes not yet fully worn in, but the old ones are probably a bit too worn out. But I found a pair in the shop that felt comfortable straightaway. Result!

Later on, Liesel dropped Jyoti and me off at Quarry Bank Mill where we had a very pleasant, relaxed wander around the gardens, down by the river Bollin.

Yes, the rhododendrons were out in force, and combined with the sunshine, our mood was lifted several notches on the happiness scale.

We had a look around the Mill itself too, and all its machinery. We’re so lucky that neither of us have ever had to work in such a hostile environment. But what amazing technological and engineering accomplishments from 200 years ago. Just to turn a few plants into tea towels.

Engineers make things that ‘work’ and make things ‘work better’. In the past Quarry Bank relied on the engineering brilliance of a few key men. Today, anyone can be an engineer. You just need to be able to think is a certain way. There are six habits that engineers all share:
Engineers work out what problem they want to solve
Engineers look for patterns and what connects things rather than just focusing on the smaller details
Engineers adapt and change, learning from what happens when they try things out
Engineers are creative, whether working on their own or with other people
Engineers imagine what the end result might look like
Engineers tinker. They test, try, improve and experiment!
There is an engineer in all of us.

What an inspiring sign for budding engineers.

In the evening, we all enjoyed a comedy night at Northenden Theatre, just up the road.

Dawn Bailey, Big Lou, Pauline Ayer, Bella Humphries

The MC was ‘Big Lou’ Jones, who I’ve seen before, and the other comedians to look out for in the future were Pauline Ayer, Bella Humphries, Dawn Bailey and Chris Oxenberry. They were all very funny but I only remembered to take pictures of four out of the five. And how nice to see a majority of female performers, yet sad that even now in the 21st century, it’s so unusual, it has to be commented on.

Late to bed, early to rise, makes a man tired. We had to rise early as a taxi was taking us to the coach station in Manchester. There was of course a spate of last-minute packing, and as usual, we were in that limbo between taking too much stuff and leaving something vital behind.

The cab driver was very fast. Well, he slowed down for speed cameras and sometimes stopped for red lights. Liesel felt nauseous and opened the window in case she needed to throw up. But we arrived in one piece, walked from the coach station to the temporary bus stop down the road, via Manchester’s Gay Village, and enjoyed a much more leisurely ride on the National Express to Newcastle.

I slept for a bit, did some puzzles, read my book but didn’t listen to any podcasts, which I’d come prepared to do. Overall, an uneventful coach ride but the highlight was passing by the Angel of the North.

This work of art by Antony Gormley has only been standing there for a quarter of a century but this is the closest we’ve been to it. So far.

In Newcastle, we had a 15-minute walk to our accommodation for the night. The first landmark we saw was St Mary’s Cathedral.

But, carrying heavy bags, we didn’t pay a visit. The second landmark was the iconic Tyne Bridge. Google Maps insisted that we’d arrived at our destination but it was wrong. The Premier Inn was down below. A reminder that Google Maps isn’t very helpful in the third dimension. The other thing that surprised us was the number of gulls all around the bridge. What a racket!

The third landmark was The Sage, Gateshead, over the river. It’s designed to look like three ships approaching in the fog, and I’m sure one day, we’ll go to a concert there.

We couldn’t check in yet, so we left our bags behind the desk, and went for a walk along the river. So many choices of food on offer, and what a great atmosphere.

Jyoti, Liesel and I did visit Newcastle’s other Cathedral, drawn in by the sound of organ music. Later, a boy’s choir started to sing, a wonderful noise and a reminder to me that I’m not really choir material, no matter how polite the other members of Northenden Choir might be to my face

Here are the colourful Maddisons that stand out in scarlet, blue and gold. Medieval St Nicholas’ Church once shone with colour, before the Reformation dictated plain stone and bare walls for churches.

Wealthy coal merchant Lionel Maddison paid for this memorial to his parents, Elizabeth and Henry, in the 1630s, Lionel was an alderman, sheriff and mayor, like his father before him. He was involved in Newcastle’s two wealthiest Companies – the Merchant Adventurers and Hostmen.

Our luck was in as we enjoyed a photography exhibition here in the cathedral too. Peter Marlow has taken pictures of all 42 of England’s cathedrals, and these photos were on display here. So of course, I had to take a picture of Guildford Cathedral while visiting Newcastle Cathedral.

I had a nice chat with someone who volunteers at this Cathedral, who has walked Hadrian’s Wall several times, who comes from Aberdeen but now considers themselves total Anglikised (sic).

The three of us crossed the Millennium Bridge, walked along the river and back over the Swing Bridge. This was of course all good training for the start of our long hike the following day.

At the hotel we met our fellow walkers from the USA, Teresa and her sister Tammy. I’d met Teresa before, in Portland, and she hasn’t changed a bit.

A personal recommendation took us to Träkol, by the By The River Brew Co. Thanks, Ross! We had a very nice meal, the four American ladies each choosing lamb, while I enjoyed a nut roast. The whole place is built inside old shipping containers, but you can’t really tell once you’re inside.

Our hotel room looked out over the Tyne Bridge, but here’s an unusual sight.

Yes, it’s a hotel window that you can actually open. Not too wide, mind, otherwise them pesky gulls might fly in.

The routine for the next few days is that we have breakfast, and we have to have our bags ready by 9.00am. Then some haulage fairies will take those bags to our next stop. We can walk with just the bare necessities for the day.

We could have walked to the start point of the Hadrian’s Wall Walk, or Hadrian’s Way, but we chose to take a taxi instead. It was only about three miles, but it seemed much longer in the cab, knowing we’d be walking back again!

The Roman soldier at Segundum Bath House and Fort, at Wallsend, wished us well on our travels and we set off in a mainly westerly direction. The weather was perfect, and we made good time. Actually, in hindsight, I wonder if we set off a bit too fast to start with, we ended up with various aches and pains.

This first day wasn’t too hilly, but it was a hard surface all the way. We were looking our for the iconic bridges far too early, well, maybe that was just me!

On one path, we saw a couple of discarded supermarket trolleys. As Liesel remarked, if this were Manchester, they would have been in the river by now. In any case, one of our party decided to have an easy ride.

Jyoti, Teresa and Tammy (in the trolley)

On this day, we never deviated far from the river Tyne. And the route itself was well signposted. It was Hadrian’s Walk at this point, because there’s not really a lot of the Wall to see. But from the next day, we would see the occasional section of well-preserved Roman wall.

I can’t remember who first noticed it and yelled ‘Bridge ahoy’, but we soon found ourselves back in Newcastle. It was canny to see wor old bridgey friends again. Picking up the lingo.

Last night, we’d been talking about Costco. So imagine our surprise when we actually saw one today. What a shame it was on the other side of a very wide river with no bridge nor ferry in sight! (Or, what a relief!)

We saw some bits of old wall, but weren’t convinced they were older than Victorian. Still, we can dream.

To bring us back to real life and remind us of more recent history, we passed this memorial in Scotswood.

In memory of the 38 men and boys who tragically lost their lives in the Montagu View Pit Disaster on 30th March 1925, when an inrush of water from a burst seam flooded the mine shaft. The pit was finally closed on 13th November 1959

The pitman, pony and tank depict our past heritage. The house represents the present regeneration of our community. The children are our future.

The official unveiling took place on 9th June 2012 by Councillor Hazel Stephenson and children from Scotswood Village Nursery, Scotswood Village Playgroup and Bridgewater School. The children and local community were involved in the design. The sculpture was made by Xceptional Designs.

In Remembrance of “Men of Steel”.

We stopped for a late lunch at Healthworks Lemington Centre. Jyoti fulfilled her dream, finding a scone with clotted cream. I think we all realised we should have stopped sooner for a break. Various muscles ached but the break helped a lot.

Just a quick (-ish) jaunt to our final destination for the day and we nearly had our first disaster.

Jyoti went down to the river and from where I was standing, it looked like she was in the river. Hence the photo. But then she dropped something, and I assumed it had fallen into the water. Big sighs of relief all round when the phone was picked up from solid ground.

I don’t think I’d heard of the Battle of Newburn Ford before, but we came across a memorial to it with a very good description of the events leading up to it. And it all boils down to religion, of course.

And look, the sky is still blue, a nice way to complete our first day. We stayed at The Keelman’s Lodging, Newburn, after 11 miles and in my case, over 32,000 steps. There’s a micro-brewery here that we didn’t take advantage of, on this occasion.

After confirming that none of us fell foul of the rules, we dined well. Unsure of what dessert to have, Jyoti decided on a bowl of custard.

Yes, an Olympic-size pool of custard. And look at that bloke next to her, concentrating hard on his rhubarb crumble.

The night ended too soon, we could have done with a little more sleep, but we met up early for a hearty breakfast before beginning Day 2 of our hike.

Thanks, Mancs and Diolch, Cymru

I missed the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on account of not being born yet. The Coronation of King Charles III was on TV in the background while I was doing other things, such as writing and looking out of the window and making coffee. I didn’t really go out and buy a hat as previously suggested. But Liesel and Jyoti went out shopping and missed most of the so-called Event of the Year.

King Charles and Queen Camilla on the balcony of Buckingham Palace

Liesel collected her new prescription sunglasses from Didsbury, and while they were in the village, she and Jyoti bought treats for me (and for themselves). So we had scones for breakfast on Sunday morning, with clotted cream and jam and no arguments about which to put on first.

Our walk through Kenworthy Lane Woods on Saturday afternoon was uneventful, no moose nor bear encounters.

No matter how careful you are, you (or is it just me?) always end up with sticky fingers after eating anything where jam is involved.

With our energy levels suitably boosted, we took a bus into Manchester. And yes, of course we saw the back end of a bus disappear up the road as soon as we turned the corner, walking towards the bus stop. Yesterday, when Liesel and Jyoti walked to the village, I said I’d catch up and, for the first time ever, a bus arrived at the bus stop just as I got there, so I boarded it, overtook the ladies, travelled as far as the next stop, disembarked and met them.

Liesel and I enjoyed showing Jyoti the sights of Manchester including the Central Library, although it seemed to be closed. So we mooched around the Art Gallery for a while.

You can just see Jyoti’s reflection to the left of the golden monkey, who sits on top of a large urn made by top artist Grayson Perry, and he wasn’t afraid of incorporating images of his own face throughout the design.

In a few galleries, several objects are on display as if they are in storage, still in crates, and grouped together in unorthodox ways, such as by material, by object type, by size, rather than by country of origin or by artist.

Some works of art make us laugh for the wrong reason. For instance, this pot of kitchen utensils is very similar to one we have at home.

Work of art and Liesel’s version at home

One of the coolest items was a dress make up from 43 kg of dress pins.

I tried to count the pins, but someone interrupted and I lost count at about 13,000 and I wasn’t even up to the waist.

By accident, we ended up at Gooey, a cake and cookie shop that Liesel was aware of and which she’s been lusting after for a long time. We bought doughnuts and after enjoying mine, overflowing with raspberry jam, I vowed never to look at a Krispy Kreme donut again. And yes, my fingers were sticky.

We paid a quick visit to the Cathedral where we witnessed a small band rehearsing, including a harp player. I’ve never been that close to a harp but I resisted the temptation to wander over and have a pluck. I don’t think Liesel would have let me, anyway, never mind the harpist.

We walked towards Castlefield Viaduct, passing a few places of interest, such as what’s left of the old Roman Wall. Rather than sit on this historical artefact, Jyoti chose to sit on the sheep. A premonition, maybe.

It was a first visit to the Viaduct for Liesel and Jyoti, and I hadn’t visited since I went with Pauline and Andrew last Summer. It has matured since then, many of the plants are now in full bloom and some of the beds are even overgrown.

As you leave, you’re surprised to see yourself in a reflective surface. You’re supposed to reflect on what you’ve seen, the flowers, the local communities and groups that have contributed to the project, the plight of the world what with climate change and all that, but all I could think of was, I look a bit distorted in that mirror.

A quick pitstop at the Museum of Science and Industry was followed by the slog back to the bus stop. Our pedometers confirmed that we’d far exceeded our 10,000 steps today, so the sit down on the bus back to Northenden was very welcome. We dined out at Chennai Dosa before making our way home.

I had a few little admin jobs to do on the computer before packing for a few days away. We d drove off and on a long section of road, we watched as several thousand vehicles were returning from their long weekend away, it was a bank holiday, and they may have all gone to Wales to escape the Coronation. Yes, Wales, that’s where we went, Snowdonia to be precise. Liesel had booked a National Trust Cottage just up the road from Craflwyn Hall. Why this area? Many years ago, Liesel and I enjoyed a Bicycle Beano cycling holiday there during the course of which I undoubtedly had a whinge about the hills. Especially the ones that go up.

Bwthyn Mai is a cute little cottage: most of the pictures on the walls are William Morris prints from an old exhibition at The Victoria and Albert Museum, the bedrooms are on the top floor, the bathroom on the middle floor, the living room and kitchen down below. Yes, it was built on a hill, a long, long time ago. The doors and floorboards squeak a symphony as you walk around.

And outside, we can watch the sheep as they upturn furniture, take shelter under the picnic table, rub their bums against the fences and gate posts, we can witness the lambs barging into their mums for a quick feed, and generally gambol like sheep do. Jyoti took many, many pictures of sheep. And I took a couple too.

The only downside to this accommodation, to the wider area as we discovered, is that there is no 4G coverage, and our cottage has no WiFi either. Not a problem, I thought, but as time went on, we all realised how dependent we’d become on having access to the internet. Someone had left me a WhatsApp message but I was unable to acknowledge it for a couple of days. We couldn’t quickly check the weather forecast. When faced with a problem or a question, the first thing we think is, I’ll just Google it. Can’t do that. When reading a book on my Kindle, if I want to look up a new word, I just click on it and it tells me via a dictionary or via Wikipedia. Similarly if I want to remind myself about a certain character, just touch the name and it tells me. Not now I’m out in the sticks. What’s the news? Probably the same old depressing nonsense but we shall remain in blissful ignorance.

From my point of view, the worst thing was the possibility of losing my winning streaks on a couple of puzzles that I do every day. This really is a ridiculous first-world problem I know, but this is how tangled our lives have become with the many tentacles of the internet. And I haven’t even mentioned Twitter, Instagram and email yet. Who’s been communicating with me?

On the other hand, what a great opportunity to get away from the modern e-world for a few days. Except, everywhere we go, we’re checking for a 4G or even a 3G signal, and whether shops, cafés, galleries have WiFi.

I asked Liesel whether she fancied a game of chess on this board in the gardens of Craflwyn Hall but she politely declined, which is fair enough: she doesn’t know how to play.

Liesel and Jyoti set off for a walk and I followed a little later. The path was steep, rocky and damp, it had rained a lot overnight.

After lunch, Liesel drove us to Rhyd Ddu from where there is a trail leading to the summit of Yr Wyddfa which is the new (old original) name for Snowdon. It started off as a well made path, no water running down this one, and yes, of course, walking up a mountain, it’s going to be steep. Liesel and Jyoti climbed a lot further than I did because, annoyingly, I had to stop due to my old shortness-of-breath issue. Maybe I should have trained longer and harder up hills, not the flat plains of Northenden. Maybe I should have persevered on an inclined treadmill at the gym. In any case, I had to stop and sit on a rock for a while, soak up some sunshine and convince my body that it can manage.

It was a beautiful day, though, no complaints there. I walked back to the car park, slowly: it took a ridiculous amount of time before my breathing was back to normal.

Rhyd Ddu is a station on the railway line between Caernarfon and Porthmadog. While pottering about, listening to the birds, I heard the whistle from a train in the distance. I also saw a red dragon on the platform.

Eventually, the train that had been tooting arrived at Rhyd Ddu and I took a few pictures of the engine.

At which point, my phone died. No internet and now, no phone, no camera, no more pictures today, then. So I missed getting photos of the second train as it arrived from the opposite direction. Many people disembarked maybe with the intent of hiking some of the way up to the summit of the mountain. No pictures of them either, some dressed like me, in t-shirt and shorts, some with several layers of waterproofs and a full backpack including a tent.

Liesel, Jyoti and I met up and compared notes, especially regarding tired aching calves. After dinner, we turned the TV on and Jyoti and I watched the first semi-final of the Eurovision Song Conest. The whole event is new to Jyoti and semi-finals are a new experience for me. A good nights sleep should have been a dead cert.

The weather didn’t look so good in the morning. Aches and pains determined that we should therefore have a bit of a rest day. Last night, a sheep had a fight with one of the benches outside. The bench lost, and we found it with its legs in the air. One of the sheep was limping and we wondered whether he was the one who beat up the furniture.

We drove to the nearest town, Beddgelert, where we resisted the temptation to have an ice cream. We did buy postcards and stamps and other cards and pottered about a bit. Outside the church, St Mary’s, we saw a well-preserved gravestone for a William Parry and I wondered whether he was a local hero of some description.

Many scenes for the film Inn of the Sixth Happiness, starring Ingrid Bergman, Curt Jurgens and Burt Kwouk were filmed in the area in 1958. I wonder if this explains the presence of this Chinese dragon which is stylistically very different to Welsh dragons.

Bridge over the river Colwyn in Beddgelert

There was a touch of mizzle in the air and at one point Jyoti commented that she couldn’t understand why I didn’t put a coat on. Well, it wasn’t raining that hard and I didn’t feel cold. I said that, equally, I couldn’t understand how she could keep taking her coat off and putting it back on every time the temperature changes by a degree or two!

We’d been through Betws-y-Coed before, on the occasion of our cycling holiday, so we knew it was a (relatively) big, busy place. Liesel came up with the idea of parking outside the town and walking in. And what a great decision that was because we saw a wonderful heron down by the riverside.

We found a place to eat by the railway station and looked forward to using their WiFi to catch up with some totally unimportant stuff. So imagine the heart-wrenching disappointment when we saw this on the wall.

The food was great though, especially the Victoria sponge. On this beautiful day, we should maybe have done a tour of the the local waterfalls, since they are so well signposted.

Liesel confessed to her love of bridges, so we walked to Sappers Suspension Bridge, but it’s not open to the public at the moment. Further along the road, (and who would have guessed that we’d ever be walking along the A5?) we saw Waterloo Bridge, a small edifice compared with its namesake in London, but so called because it was first built in the same year as the Battle of Waterloo, 1815.

Even though this was supposed to be more of a rest day following the exertions of all the climbing yesterday, we still did a lot of walking.

Deciding where to visit on our final whole day in Wales was hard, so much depends on the weather and of course, we can’t look up a weather forecast because we have no internet. In the end, we drove to Beddgelert Forest where we planned to walk to around a lake. Well, we never did find the lake. The trail was marked but somehow all three of us, I think, missed a vital pointer so we ended up well off course. But it doesn’t matter, we enjoyed the walk, the views, the weather, the fresh air, the birdsong and the fact that there were very few other hikers, cyclists and no horseriders at all. The forest itself is very lush, so many different greens from olive to almost dayglow.

Once we realised we were off course, we decided instead to follow the trail into Beddgelert itself. It was a much more pleasant experience than one of our earlier plans which was to walk from the Forest car park to the village along the road, with no footpath. We lost count of the number of streams and rivulets. It’s a very wet forest but today, we were lucky to be out in the sunshine, and the threatening grey clouds never came too close.

We’ve been wondering which peak was in fact Snowdon, Yr Wyddfa, and today a very helpful sign showed us. What a shame the actual summit was shrouded in cloud!

We had lunch at the Prince Llewelyn public house in Beddgelert, grateful for the opportunity to sit down for a while after quite a long walk. Oh, and they weren’t afraid to let us use their WiFi so I caught up on a few things, nothing of any importance of course.

Before setting off for the car, retracing our steps, we had an ice cream. What a joy to be sitting in warm sunshine eating an ice cream.

I heard a dog barking and a man telling it to be quiet. Round the corner, and we saw a flock of sheep in the road.

The man had two dogs that very skilfully herded the sheep through a gate. I thought it was unusual to hear a sheep dog being so vocal, though.

Finding another cute little bridge, I thought it would be rude not to take a picture of it for Liesel. So here she is, with Jyoti, about to walk across it.

By the time we found our car in the car park, we had walked over 20,000 steps, so probably between 8 and 9 miles. Very good training for what we’ll be doing next week. My body behaved much better than yesterday. I found my rhythm and walked up a very long hill and was hardly out of breath when I got to the top, a totally different sensation to the shortness-of-breath episode I’d had yesterday.

Back at our cottage, we had some coffee then supper and in the evening, Jyoti and I enjoyed the second semi-final of the Eurovision Song Contest. I now realise what I’ve been missing for several years!

A good night’s sleep was interrupted by a very early rise and an early departure. One aspect of the cottage that I didn’t mention was the beam in the room.

I must have banged my head on it a thousand times over the course of four days, thus keeping Liesel fully entertained. How I can bang my head, utter ‘ouch’, glance down, forget the beam’s there, stand up and bang my head again so many times is a question that will only be answered by the pathologist who dissects my brain post mortem.

The day back at home was quiet, I worked on a radio show, processed the week’s accumulated mail (one item) and in the evening, we met up with the family for dinner at a pub called The Pointing Dog. Martha was but a small baby when she last met Jyoti but what a fab reunion.

As mentioned a couple of times, this is Eurovision Song Contest week, and the competition is being held in Liverpool, on behalf of Ukraine, last year’s winner, and we’ve had a lot of coverage on TV and radio. So of course, my own show on Wythenshawe Radio has a Eurovision theme, and you can catch up with it here.

Oh and by the way, I didn’t lose my winning streaks on the puzzles that I do every day, just because there was no internet access. It seems that if you don’t or can’t attempt the puzzle one day, that doesn’t count against you. Phew, I am so relieved.

And, as I discovered after we returned home, the Wikipedia entry on the Welsh Red Dragon is a fascinating read. Highly recommended.

I could find no evidence that the William Parry whose gravestone we found was a celebrity in any way. But Parry is a very common name in the Beddgelert area, certainly in the graveyard.

Gozo and home

Having spent the day in and roughly north of Victoria, it was now time to head eastwards. The wind was still blowing so we took a bus to Qala from where we wandered hither and thither, admiring the views.

We did see some wildlife, a few birds, the odd butterfly, but most excitingly, snails.

Many of the restaurants advertise ‘locally produced lamb’, ‘locally produced goat’ and ‘locally produced rabbit’. Along with ‘Argentinian beef’. But on all our walks, we never once saw a sheep, goat or rabbit out in the wild, not even any signs of their presence. We ate our lunch in a place recommended by our b&b host, Xerri il Bukkett. Entertainment was provided by some loud American ladies one of whom clearly knew more about breeding and raising rabbits, for food, not pets, than the local Gozitan population.

Speaking of birds which we were a minute ago, what a surprise to see these chaps out by the road.

We walked and took a bus to the Ġgantija Temples, still looking out for sheep and goats. ‘Ġgantija’ because they were built by a race of giants, according to local legend.

After about 5,500 years, the temples, older than the pyramids in Egypt, aren’t in the best of repair, and some of the stones are missing, having been acquired for re-use in new buildings. This has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1980, but that’s no excuse not to have a coffee shop at the end of the tour, along with the gift shop!

‘The typical habitat on the Ġgantija plateau is the garrigue, a seemingly arid and treeless environment. In reality, this is one of the richest habitats on the Maltese islands with hundreds of flowering plants, including the Giant Fennel, the Wild Thyme, the Mediterranean Heather, the Maltese Spurge and many others.’ I don’t think I’d seen the word ‘garrigue’ before.

The graffiti goes back hundreds of years but we’re now discouraged from such vandalism.

A couple of the walls have been secured by scaffolding until the local experts work out the best way to preserve the temples in the longer term.

The temples need another visit one day, but we were conscious of having to catch a bus. While waiting at the bus stop, we had another wildlife encounter. A cat made friends with us.

The weather hadn’t been as bad as forecast and the following day was even better. So we headed south on this occasion, to Xlendi. The walk, nay, hike, along the coastal path was more challenging than the average stroll around Northenden, that’s for sure, and in a couple of places, we lost the path. Still, no sheep nor goats to worry about.

The cliffs looked challenging to say the least, so I was glad that our hike took us in the opposite direction, along the il-Maxar – ix-Xlendi Heritage Trail. Still hilly and rocky but not vertical.

I saw the Usain Bolt of the lizard world dart across the path in front of us. Then Liesel saw one too, after which we saw a few, lone lizards, taking in the Sun on the rocks. Beautiful green lizards.

One thing we weren’t expecting to see was this little bridge. There’s no river, it just meant we didn’t have to climb all the way down the ravine and back up. I imagine this was constructed by the Romans. Or maybe the Brits.

Our destination was Sanap Cliffs, and we just enjoyed the walk in the sunshine, even as we were concerned that we might be off course, having lost the path, and might be tramping across someone’s crops. Still no sign of a goat or sheep.

‘This area, that forms the south-western part of the village of Munxar, is characterised by the high cliffs known as Sanap Cliffs. Sanap, from Maltese senapa, is the mustard plant that was possibly cultivated in the area. This place lies between Tal-Bardan, on the left, and Ras il-Bajjada in Xlendi, to the right. The surrounding fields are a grazing site for sheep and goats.

Sanap Cliffs offer an unparalleled view of the south coast of the island of Gozo. The highest point in the area is specifically known il-Pinnur, literally as the weathercock. This point is perched to the winds just as a weathercock. The island of Comino is to the left, and the north coast of Malta in front.’

So, sheep and goats do graze in the area, maybe they’re inside during the cold(er) Winter months.

As we approached Sanap Caves, our rocky, stoney, muddy path morphed into a paved walkway, very civilised. We even saw other people, but we didn’t join them at the cliff’s edge. Instead, we completed the loop, and walked back to Xlendi, following the road this time.

From a distance, neither of us could discern whether these crops were potatoes or cannabis, or maybe something else, more exotic.

Obviously, it was much faster walking along the road and we soon found ourselves by the waterside in Xlendi. We found Moby Dick Restaurant, enjoyed lunch, and coffee, and watched the Sun going down over the sea. Again, I took far too many photos of the setting Sun, with and without clouds, trying to capture the waves as they broke just behind the wall protecting Moby Dick and the other shorefront premises from the Mediterranean.

Another slog, well, a two-minute walk to the bus stop, where again we were serenaded by the susurration from a million small birds in the trees.

I think it’s fair to say that we enjoyed our few days on Gozo and that, having seen the weather forecast back home, we didn’t really want to go back. But we did, getting up early to catch a bus back to Mġarr for the ferry back to Malta. Having not seen a lot of wildlife (we can’t really count snails, lizards, cats and millions of small birds), you can only imagine the delight when we came across this old thing in the ferry terminal.

I know, I know, it looks like a donkey to us too, but the model really is titled Four Beautiful Women.

Waiting for the ferry to arrive gave plenty of opportunity to get some steps in by wandering around, of course. The boat trip itself was uneventful, as was the bus that took us across Malta, from Cirkewwa Ferry Terminal to the airport.

Malta International Airport. We checked in very quickly. A dozen or so desks, all staffed, which meant there wasn’t a ridiculously long queue. We got through security very quickly too. Lots of time to spare before our flight, so all we could do really was wander around, or sit in the Hard Rock Café for some lunch.

It was quite poignant sitting by Jeff Beck’s shirt, as he only passed away a few days earlier.

The flight was uneventful and finally, we dropped through several thousand feet of clouds to see the lights of Manchester.

Manchester Airport and yes, we were soon brought back to grinding reality. After a 3½-hour flight, it really shouldn’t take 1½ hours to get through immigration. Why was there such a delay? Because, again, only half the passport reading machines were plugged in and working. Mine wasn’t the only head shaking in disbelief.

And then we were driven home by the grumpiest taxi driver in the country. He took the longest possible route home and made a big deal out of finding his card reader because, of course, we didn’t have any British money on us. Welcome home, Mick and Liesel!

In happier news, the latest radio show was about Laughter Therapy, and it includes a chat I had with Sara about laughter and about Blue Monday. Listen here, right now, and have a laugh!

Walks, wind and hills

As well as being extremely narrow, some of the streets in Victoria, Gozo are incredibly steep.

Nevertheless we persisted, we walked all the way up to The Citadel from where we could look down on quite a lot of the island.

There are signs of activity on the hillock dating back to 2,500 BC, the start of the Bronze Age. There are marble artefacts from the Roman era too, so a lot of history here.

I’ll let the local experts tell us more:

The Cittadella, also known as the Castello, is the main historic fortress of Gozo, built at a strategic vantage point just in the centre of the island.

Archaeological evidence shows that the site has possibly been inhabited since Late Neolithic times and certainly fortified during the Bronze Age Period. In Roman times, Gozo was elevated to a privileged municipality, and the fortified city was transformed into a complex acropolis serving as the centre of both the administrative and military activity as well as the religious life of the inhabitants of Gaulos.

During the Middle Ages, the acropolis was converted into a fortified castle which served as a refuge for the inhabitants during corsairs’ attacks. By the 16th Century, most of the castle’s defensive walls became obsolete, and a major reconstruction of the southern side was undertaken between 1599 and 1622. The delineation of the northern medieval walls was largely retained and integrated into the revamped military architecture, transforming the old modest Castello into an imposing gunpowder fortress.

Today the Cittadella houses various notable buildings and historic places, including the Cathedral of the Assumption, which was built between 1697 and 1711 on the site of the former medieval church.

There were a few other visitors but a lot of the people we saw arriving by foot or by car were lawyers attending the court. We thought about watching whatever trial was taking place, but in the end, staying outside in the sunshine seemed a higher priority. Although the wind was still quite strong, and cold in places.

One thing we noticed was how much greener Gozo is than Malta. It might dry out in the extreme heat of Summer of course, but right now, we can see the benefits of the limited Winter precipitation.

It was interesting to see a really skilled artist at work. Emmanuel’s paintings have an almost photographic quality to them, and he was working from a photo on his phone here. How lucky to be here on the one day of his free exhibition.

From a distance, I thought this was an electric car being charged. A bit anti-social having the charging cable across the narrow pavement, definitely a trip hazard. But no. It’s a petrol pump, installed outside somebody’s house.

We wandered around fairly aimlessly for a while, but then Liesel remembered the remains of some aqueducts, so we walked along the road in that direction. Old Roman aqueducts, I gussed. Nope: built by the Brits in the early 19th century.

The supply of water in Malta is of course limited. According to one of our hosts:

Malta only receives around 550 mm of rainfall a year, the greater part of which falls over a period of a few months from October to February, with the rest of the year being dry to very dry.

Malta has no rivers or lakes; 68% of Malta’s water comes from groundwater which is being exploited at a rate of almost 50% over and above sustainable extraction levels. The balance comes from seawater desalination, which consumes 7% of all the electricity used in the country, all of which comes from the burning of fossil fuels in power stations.

One thing we both noticed is there are very few solar panels here. I’m sure there will be more solar energy in the future, but for now, it seems to be a missed opportunity. Similarly, we’ve seen no wind turbines and no evidence of off-shore energy production using tides or waves.

We walked in the general direction of Wied il-Għasri, commenting on the cactuses growing everywhere, remarking on how hilly the place is, and what a shame there’s not a decent pavement on most of the roads. We turned round and saw the Citadel. Is that the same Citadel, I asked Liesel?

The walls are all dry stone, not a drop of cement. But very strong although not necessarily strong enough to withstand impact from a badly driven vehicle.

As we walked on by, I pointed out that we had now been to Infinity… and beyond.

As we walked on by, I reminded Liesel that we had been to Infinity, and beyond.

The names of houses are varied. Half of them are English, half Maltese and half Latin. But there was one that we were amused to see:

As we walked on by, I remarked that we’d been to Infinity… and beyond.

We saw a sign advertising Gozo lizards for sale. Knock on the door or call this number. Well, I would have thought these dry-stone walls would have plenty of lizards living in the nooks and crannies, especially on the sunny side. Liesel on the other hand thought they were just rocks with lizards painted on them. It’s still a mystery.

Late in the afternoon, hundreds of birds chirp and chirrup in cacophonous unison, flitting about from branch to branch in the trees. We thought they looked like house sparrows, but I don’t know if they make that kind of racket. On the other hand, having seen pictures of Sardinian warblers, we now think they’re responsible for the noise pollution.

This is the oldest Basilica on Gozo but there was no opportunity to look around inside.

Gozo is quite hilly, I may have mentioned that. So it was interesting to see that some of the crops are grown on terraces. I thought that was just an Asian method of farming.

In the distance we spotted a lighthouse, but we felt it was too far to walk to on this occasion. We were conscious of the Sun setting at about 5 o’clock so it was with some relief that, at last, we reached the Gorge at Wied il-Għasri. People do go swimming here, but not today, as far as we could see.

We decided not to walk all the way down quite a steep path to the water’s edge. Just as well, because the trek to the nearest bus stop took us up the longest, steepest road in the whole world. Or so it seemed to these old legs. In fact, it was so long and steep, we saw the Sun set several times. It would disappear, we’d walk up the hill and watch it sink below the horizon again. And again.

Up and up we climbed, and when we reached the bus stop, we hugged it. The bus service on Malta is terrific but sometimes, you’re unlucky with the timing and have to wait for quite a while, in the cold, strong wind. But this did give me an opportunity to wander off a couple of times, and I did witness one more colourful sunset.

After nearly an hour, the bus arrived and we hugged the driver. It was a quick ride back to Victoria and a quick walk back to our b&b where we slowly thawed out and, after the longest walk of our entire trip, we enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

Let’s go to Gozo

This really is the height of luxury. Nothing to do but walk around in the sunshine. We meandered along the promenade in the opposite direction today, away from Valetta, heading towards St Julian’s, which is where we stayed the last time we visited Malta. There was a noticeable difference in temperature between walking in the Sun and being in the shade. But it was glorious, so much more pleasant than the rain in Manchester, for which we see there’s now a yellow warning.

We’d both decided not to being swimwear with us on this occasion, but that may have been a mistake. When I saw this guy playing with his water jet-powered rocket booster system in the harbour, I thought, I’d like to have a go at that. Liesel wasn’t so keen, though.

We noticed a few shoals of fish in the water too, it was that clear, contrary to our expectations. And when we found the local Marina regulations, we could see why. I suspect most if not all local sailors follow the rules. I don’t have a boat, so I didn’t really have to commit the rules to memory, but there you go.

Under MARPOL legislation, it is illegal to discharge oily residues into the sea. All automatic bilge pumps must be switched off unless the engine (s) is equipped with a separate oil tray. A bilge water pump-out facility is available at this marina. Violators are subject to sanctions.

Enzyme-based products must be used to clean bilges, not detergents. Oil absorbent pads should be kept onboard for emergencies.

Marina regulations prohibit the discharge of sewage or grey water (effluent from shower, laundry and wash basins) into the basin. Full shore facilities (toilet/shower units, marine pump-outs and live-abourd pump-outs) are available at this marina. Violators are subject to sanctions.

It is strictly prohibited to dump any solid wastes into the marina (Food waste, paper, rags, glass, crockery, metal, ropes, packing material and any plastic articles). Violators are subject to sanctions.

The maximum speed inside the marina of any marine craft is limited to 3 Knots. Violators are subject to sanctions.

Apart from mooring lines and service cables, it is prohibited to leave or store items on the marina quay. All such items will be removed at the owner’s expense

After reaching St Julian’s, we deviated from the promenade, and found ourselves not so much walking as scrambling or scrabbling along the lunar landscape of the beach. Plenty of trip hazards for my two left feet, but I survived without mishap.

We found civilisation again close to The Westin Hotel Dragonara. I’m sure it’s a fantastic, comfortable place to stay, but we’re very happy in our little b&b.

We sat by a proper, sandy beach for a while, watching the people, me with a coffee and Liesel with an ice cream. That guy’s brave, we thought, not just for swimming in the sea, but for leaving his bag unattended, having just been flashing his mobile phone.

The sand at St George’s Bay is quite coarse, but still easier to walk on than the rocks earlier. I saw one jellyfish in the water.

As we walked back through the town, past a shopping arcade, I remarked that we’d been here before. Nope. I was by myself last time, Liesel was having a rest, a long, luxurious bubble bath or something.

The building site was a bit ugly. Aren’t they all? But this one is A new destination to elevate Malta’s urban landscape. Cutting edge entertainment for all. A carefully created shopping experience for everyone. A heightened culinary affair. Well I for one can’t wait to see what’s so different about all these new shops and restaurants. All brand new and shiny. How ironic then that, as we walked around the corner, we noticed a really, really old bus.

Always try and remember to look up.

One thing we’ve noticed all over the place is the proliferation of hire scooters. Most users are on the pavements, moving at a reasonable speed amongst us pedestrians. But some braver souls are on the roads travelling at over 20mph, easily keeping up with the general traffic flow. I thought about trying one out, but, well, it’s the thought that counts.

Of course, if this were Manchester, these scooters would all be in the water by now.

The recycling bins are pretty nifty too. We saw one guy with huge bin-bags full of cans and plastic bottles. We wondered why he didn’t just leave those bags by the recycling bins. But then we realised, those bins actually pay you for the recycled items.

It’s always good to try and work out what an item of scuplture represents, especially when the adjoining plaque only has a description in a different language, in this case, Maltese.

I think it was first made in 1986 and subsequently repaired in 2017 then located in front of Ċensu Apap’s house in Sliema. The Ministry of Transport had something to do with it. My Maltese is very limited, even with Google Translate looking over my shoulder.

On our previous visit to Malta, we visited a coffee shop at Tigné Point a couple of times. So we had to make the pilgrimage there again this time. Iced coffee and hot coffee were enjoyed, not to mention a second breakfast.

We soaked up as much Sun as we could while walking around the tip of the peninsula. One thing we didn’t anticipate seeing was a man taking his cat for a walk. Well, taking his cat out for some fresh air, at least.

I made the mistake of buying another coffee as we got close to home. Mistake? Yes. Because when we got to Lidl, the assistant wouldn’t let me take it in, which meant that Liesel had to get the shopping alone. I hung around outside, enjoying my coffee and the sound of the bells of the Parish Church of Stella Maris, just around the corner. A crowd of people were gathered outside, but I couldn’t see whether it was a wedding or some other celebration.

We’re now used to being disappointed by the weather at home when we lift the blinds each morning. And that feeling of, well, ‘dread’ is probably too strong a word, but that feeling is still there, even after being here in the Mediterranean for a few days. But so far here, we’ve never been greeted by anything other than dazzling blue skies and signs of bright sunshine. So it was no hardship to leave our house and walk to the bus stop.

I’m just glad we weren’t standing by the bus stop over the road when that balcony came a-tumbling down.

Since Covid, Manchester buses have had the windows fixed so they can’t be closed. Not that that stops people from closing them. The idea is that fresh air will reduce the spread of Covid. Here in Malta, the bus company has done the opposite. ‘Keep Windows Closed. This bus is equipped with Bioactive AC filters for improved air filtration. Please keep windows closed for maximum efficiency.’ Yes, of course some of the windows had been forced open. The first bus we caught today had a temperature of 28°. The second, a baltic 22°, brrr!

We were entertained by the American couple behind, about the same age as us, learning to use public transport, probably for the first time in their lives.

Him: Did you press Stop, dear?
Her: Yes, I have ascertained how to stop the bus by pressing the button. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?

It was just a pity they hadn’t ascertained how to board the bus, through the correct door, not through the exit to avoid paying the fare.

We disembarked at Sanglea, and couldn’t help but notice this example of extreme yarn-bombing.

That was a labour of love, I wonder how long it took? Just along the road as we made our way to the tip of the peninsula, Liesel posed for a photo, sporting her exclusive shopping bag. I think that’s St Philip’s Church at the top of the road.

This is obviously an old part of Malta, one of the houses had the date 1702 inscribed.

Walls have ears. That’s the saying, and this watch tower really does have ears. And eyes.

Looking over the water towards Fort St Angelo, it would be easy to deduce that the whole island is really just one big fortress. The entrance to the Grand Harbour is fortified too.

We hadn’t really agreed a plan, but found ourselves walking around the bay, past the American University of Malta, around to visit the Fort itself. A relatively cold wind blew for a few minutes but it didn’t last long, and once we were in the sunshine again, we soon warmed up.

Quite a few of these little boats were in the water, or up on the quayside, but we didn’t go for a ride in one. They’re very colourful though. Luzzu? Ferrila? Where’s my Maltese correspondent when I need him?

On another occasion, we’ll visit the War and the Maritime Museums, but today, we were just soaking up the Sun. Outside the Maritime Museum is the first steam engine to arrive on Malta.

We’re not totally averse to visiting places and we spent a very pleasant hour or so at Fort St Angelo, although we could have spent much longer there. Most of our visit was still outdoors, up and down many steps and slopes. Which led us to wonder whether my Dad had been to Malta during the second world war when he was in the Royal Navy? We know he was in the Mediterranean, possibly in Crete… but that’s it, that’s all we know.

There is a lot of history at this fort, going back to before the original fort was built in medieval times. It was, of course, damaged during the war.

As well as being used for defensive purposes, it has been used as a prison, a Royal Naval hospital and as a court over the years. Not to mention the chapel and, now, for us visitors, it provides a great view of the harbour.

Cannon’s eye view of the entrance to Grand Harbour

There is a café, but after all the effort of climbing stairs to find it, it was found to be closed. Nightmare.

Liesel and I decided not to climb the mast on this occasion. ‘Reaching 80 feet in height, this wooden ship-mast was installed around 1910. The Royal Naval White Ensign and the flag of the chief naval afficer responsable for Fort St Angelo, normally Flag Officer Malta, were flown daily following the Fort’s transformation into a Royal Naval shore establishment in 1906, Special signs were hoisted for the manoeuvering of naval ships in harbour and weather forecasting. Another naval ship-mast was located across the Grand Harbour on Lascaris Bastion in Valletta but was removed in the 1970s.’

We left just before closing time and carried on walking along the bay. We stopped for a beverage, both choosing a delightful, thick, tasty, hot chocolate on this occasion.

I’d like to say I hired a one-man octocopter so that I could take a picture of the fort from above, but, here’s a secret: it’s just a photo of a photo.

We walked up a hill to the bus stop and returned to Sliema. Around the corner from our b&b, we came across these stars. My guess is that they were to mark David Bowie’s birthday.

He is the original Starman after all. And who can forget his appearance at the Malta International Song Festival in July 1969 when, amongst other songs, he performed When I live my Dream, probably his best love song, with an orchestral backing? In the festival, he came second to a Spanish singer called Cristina: I wonder what happened to her?!

Later on, we dined at the top Maltese restaurant Wagamama where we were entertained by Lady Gaga. Wagagaga.

It’s hard work being on holiday so we took a day off. Reading, writing and ‘rithmetic were the order of the day for me, although Liesel did do some actual work on her laptop. We also packed to prepare for our departure.

On our previous visit to Malta, we’d missed out Gozo so we decided we’d pay a visit this time. The plan was to catch the fast ferry from Valletta. However, our plans were scuttled. Unlike the ferry, thank goodness.

Schedule Update: 10th January 2023 & 11th January 2023

Kindly be advised that due to the inclement weather conditions the Gozo Fast Ferry trips will be suspended for today Tuesday 10th January & tomorrow Wednesday 11th January.

Keep a look out on our socials or website for the latest updates.

Our plan B was to take a bus to Ċirkewwa and catch the normal, slow ferry. We could understand why the fast ferry service had been cancelled, the wind was really strong, the sea was being whipped up, such a contrast to the calm seas we’ve enjoyed for the last few days.

Here is the rough sea as seen through the dirty, rain-besplattered window of a moving bus. We waited for about half an hour at the ferry terminal where I paced up and down and round and round. There are signs everywhere telling us to wear masks, but nobody bothered. There’s even a vending machine selling them.

The voyage lasted about 25 minutes and the passage was indeed windy and rough. A couple of passengers turned a bit green but I think most of us felt ok. I went out on deck for a short while and the best thing is, my hat didn’t blow off.

Our b&b on Gozo is a bus ride away, in Victoria, below the famous citadel which we’ll explore another day. Claude met us, showed us around, and suggested some good places to walk on the island. He confirmed the public transport service is good, you can get pretty much anywhere in about 20 minutes by bus.

We went for a short walk to the town square where we had a late lunch. Or early dinner, if you prefer. And we got some shopping.

There’s space on this façade for two clocks, but rather than a sundial and a conventional clock, there is Alpha and Omega, for Jesus Christ, the beginning and end of our lives. The right hand clock gives a rough idea of the time of day, if you have no other means of telling the time.

Back at the b&b, we relaxed and considered thinking about planning what we might do and where we might go during the next few days, taking into account the conflicting weather forecasts.

And we’re off…

Setting up the new printer was fairly straighforward. Apart from when the message appeared: We’re sorry, something went wrong. Nothing had gone wrong, the printer works perfectly. Liesel and I can now print directly from our laptops and phones. And that concludes this week’s tech news.

We didn’t stay up to watch the New Year’s fireworks from London, but we did enjoy some very loud bangs from the local displays in Northenden. Not so loud that they drowned out the noise of torrential rain battering the windows. Yes, we were quite glad we hadn’t made the effort to go out somewhere to watch a display.

I think it rained continuously for over 48 hours in the end, during which time, sadly, we took very limited exercise. One day, I took some rubbish out and checked for mail. But not to worry, we were soon off to sunnier climes where we hoped to walk for miles and miles.

Getting up at 3.30am is a rare occurrence for us, but it happens sometimes. The taxi took us to the airport, we checked in, we breezed through security having bribed them a fiver to fast-track. It would have been faster if my trays hadn’t been pulled aside. Not because there was anything suspicious, but because their machines hadn’t scanned properly.

The flight was uneventful, apart from some minor turbulence as we flew over the Alps.

I read my book, I did some puzzles and I even forked out for a cup of coffee. Liesel read for a while and also did some crocheting. When we landed, it was cloudy but warm. And as we descended the stairs from the Boeing 737-800, the Sun came out and said, welcome to Malta, Mick and Liesel.

We were in Malta three years ago, returning to the UK just in time for the first Covid lockdown. Masks seem to be optional now, although we kept ours on all the way from Manchester Airport to getting off the bus just round the corner from our b&b in Sliema.

We knew the public transport system here was good, so we bought our bus tickets at the airport. The first bus took us into Floriana, the little independent town just outside Valletta. We ignored the Christmas market stalls as we walked towards the bus stop for a second bus. Except for the stall selling pastizzi. We yielded to temptation. Liesel chose the cheese filling while I opted for the peas. Delicious. But suddenly, 20,000 volts went through one of my teeth. I had tooth-ache for the rest of the day. I’m still not sure if the puff pastry was to blame, or I just bit down in an unorthodox manner, but boy was I miserable after this. I don’t want to have to see a dentist in a foreign country. I took painkillers and tried to play down the discomfort, but I’m sure Liesel will tell a different story. Ouch.

Our host met us at the b&b, showed us around and made us welcome. It’s a nice apartment, and we only have to climb 26 stairs to get there, not as many as in Yorkshire a couple of weeks ago.

In fact, the whole neighbourhood is picturesque, and so far at least, not a lot of noise. We made ourselves comfortable before embarking on the first of many long walks.

The streets are quite narrow so we were walking in the shade whichever side we chose to walk on. I told Liesel that as soon as we reached a sunny stretch, I would hold my arms out like a demented cormorant. It felt so good.

It’s only a 5 minute stroll to the sea and we walked along the promenade, breathing the sea air in deeply.

I was quite moved to see this memorial plaque, particularly as I had recently listened to a podcast serial, Who Killed Daphne? There’s some horrible corruption in Malta amongst the natural, and man-made, beauty.

On our first full day here, we walked to Valletta. It was warm and yet many people were still dressed in their thick Winter coats. As if they look at the calendar rather than the thermometer before deciding what to wear.

My God, it’s full of books. That’s what David Bowman would have said if he were looking into this old telephone box rather than a massive monolith orbiting Jupiter.

Some of the graffiti is quite profound. This caught my eye because it might, in some way, be related to my radio show next week. You’ll just have to tune in and see.

Look how blue the sky, how calm the water, and what a beautiful ship. There were hundreds of boats, of all sizes in the harbour, and in all states of repair.

We followed the path along the waterside, and eventually we saw Valletta way over there. That was our target for the day. And see that gap, I asked Liesel? Yes? That’s the Caribbean, I said. Don’t be so silly, she replied. And, as luck would have it, a hundred yards further on, we saw this vessel:

The Black Pearl, straight out of Pirates of the Caribbean. This might not be Captain Jack Sparrow’s actual ship, I wouldn’t want to mislead you.

Yes, it’s very sad to see that capital punishment still exists in Malta. If you’re convicted of a nautical crime, they still make you take a long walk off a short plank.

This Catholic church isn’t really leaning over, that’s just side effect of a panoramic picture taken in haste on a busy road. It was almost glowing in the sunshine. Various church bells were ringing as we made our way to the Maltese capital, and we realised they were probably to mark the funeral of Pope Benedict taking place over the water in The Vatican.

Liesel sprayed her initials on this rubbish bin and couldn’t walk away fast enough. On the other hand, a bit later on, as we were walking across an area of grassland, a man in front kept turning around and looking at us. So we slowed down. And we stopped to ‘admire the view’. I think he’s got the hots for you, Liesel, I suggested. Make sure your phone’s not on display, said Liesel. We managed to lose him, or maybe he lost interest in us, and we found ourselves back in the Floriana Christmas market. No pastizzi today, thank you very much, and, since you ask, my teeth felt much better today. No painkillers required.

We entered Valletta and found somewhere decent, Kantina, to have a very welcome, late lunch. Welcome because we were hungry but also, it was nice to sit down for a while.

This train came along the road as we dined, but we were quite happy to stay put, with a coffee before continuing our perambulation.

Liesel went into a shop and while I loiterd outside, I found this celebration of Pope John Paul II’s first visit to Malta in 1990. It seems he was especially fond of Maltese people, right up until his death.

I’d forgotten that Valletta is quite hilly. So as we walked up and down, eventually heading back to the bus station, you can imagine how seeing this took ones breath away:

We didn’t walk up this street, but one parallel to it, closer to the sea. The Sun was low in the sky, and Fort Ricasoli was really looking for attention over there.

In a couple of places, we could see where the Sun would set, so we tried to get to a good vantage point. So did very many other people and try as we might, it was very hard not to ruin other people’s photo opps. But our patience paid off, and I think this is a pretty cool picture.

We wandered down to the bus stop and of course we missed a bus by 10 seconds. Back at the b&b, we ate and turned on the TV, something we rarely do when away from home, and watched a jolly good escapist movie, Glass Onion.

Unfortunately, I think we consumed too much caffeine so sleep was quite elusive. So much so, I managed to finish my first book of the year, in the middle of the night.

Also, my dreams that night, when I did eventually fall asleep, were ridiculous. For instance, if in real life, I’d asked my Mum to check that I’d left my mobile phone at home, she wouldn’t have a clue. And if I’d said I needed it to book an Uber, well. It was a different world thirty years ago.

Before we left home, I pre-recorded two radio shows, the first of which is now available. It’s on the subject of Weights and Measures. First on Wythenshawe Radio and now, here on Mixcloud.

As hinted at earlier, next week’s show is in the can and might have something to do with Laughter Therapy. Wythenshawe Radio, Friday 2pm, 97.2 FM, online, TuneIn app, smart speaker.

Much more Malta coming soon, stayed tuned!

Another year bites the dust

We stayed at Fountains Abbey for a week altogether and for some of that time, we had the whole place, the whole estate, to ourselves. To the point that when, on Boxing Day, we encountered millions upon millions of other visitors, we felt our land was being invaded. Such an outrage.

Fountains Abbey is bigger than I’d anticipted. Other than the roof being missing, it’s been well looked after.

And here we are, equally well preserved, in front of the abbey. We spent a lot of time walking up and down its corridors and aisles. It was very special not seeing other people, just pigeons, crows and pheasants.

We have no idea where the building materials came from, but the different colour sandstones look much more vivid in real life than in this picture.

It was quiet and peaceful, just the sounds of the birds. And quite atmospheric too with the medieval mist rising from the grass.

We walked along the path by the River Skell enjoying the peace and tranquility. Pheasants were everywhere, many more males than females for some reason. We even saw bits of pheasant here and there, presumably the body parts that the sparrow hawks couldn’t digest. We saw a couple of red kites showing off their soaring and gliding skills in the sunshine.

Odd buildings attracted our attention as we walked to the gate leading to the main car park. We didn’t go through because it wasn’t obvious how to get back. Plus, there were ordinary people on the other side, and we didn’t need to mix with them.

The Serpentine Tunnel was dark and damp and, as the name suggests, sinuous, so you never knew how much further there was to walk. The view from higher up was well worth the effort of the climb. Even if I was a bit puffed out.

Back at Fountains Hall, there’s a very moving war memorial

It’s probably the wrong time of year to see bees, but we found a home for them.

Joe Cornish has been taking photographs of the Abbey and the grounds for a few years now, since before the pandemic, and there was a display of his work inside the Mill. Apart from anything else, this was a reminder that I really should break out my real camera again rather than relying on the faithful phone for all my photographic needs.

We never came across the tree with this gnarly old man striding in its roots. But I’m sure we’ll be back one day, there are several more acres in the grounds to explore.

The bad news is, Liesel wouldn’t let me scratch my name next to this 200-year old graffiti.

Oh no, more bad news. Inside the Hall, we found this Christmas tree with lots of presents underneath, but Liesel wouldn’t let me open any of them.

Christmas day was unusual. We spent the day snacking on crackers, cheese, chocolate, cheese and crackers, fruit, bread, crisps, snacks, so that when it was time for the more conventional, official Christmas meal, we both felt full and well, we couldn’t be bothered. So we had our nut loaf and all the trimmings the following day: maybe we’ve started a new tradition. But really, those snacks just shouldn’t be so tasty, filling and more-ish.

Having spent a week on our own, just the two of us, Darby and Joan, it was nice to venture out and meet people. Not just any old people, but an old school-friend. And not even a school-friend of mine. Yvonne was my sister, Pauline’s buddy from school, all those decades ago. Yvonne and Ian met us in Sawley, for a pub lunch. It was nice to catch up, even though we’d only met in August, with Pauline and Andrew.

Our week in Yorkshire came to an end and we had to check out really early. On the way home, we diverted to Mother Shipton’s Cave but as always, we’d planned well: it was closed. But we did catch a glimpse of Knaresborough Viaduct, even if we didn’t take time to explore. We’ll be back, I’m sure.

It’s always an anti-climax of course going home after a short break. Nothing much to report here. Oh, except my old PC has decided to no longer cooperate. It won’t turn on. Yes, it was plugged in. I even changed the fuse in the plug. I hoovered up 3 cwt of dust from inside the case, wondering if maybe the thing wouldn’t turn on because the fans were stuck. No. I suspect it needs a new power supply unit. Which is annoying, because there are only a few things I need to transfer to my (now not so) new laptop. But the main thing I use the old PC for is to print. We have a very old printer that is not compatible with Windows 11. I spent far too long trying to find a way to get my laptop to connect with the old printer. In the end, I ordered a new printer.

I enjoyed watching the New Year’s fireworks from Sydney, a display probably visible from space.

Of course, we weren’t there in person on this occasion and I couldn’t see Helen and Jenny in the crowd. Mind you, I only have a small TV screen, it was dark there and as it turns out, they were round at a friend’s place anyway.

The radio show this week was entitled Happy New Year! I prepared it before we went away, that was a hectic couple of days! You can catch the show here. If I were to say that my Christmas show was repeated on Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2 not once, not twice but four times in the end, is that a humble-brag? Should I take that as a vote of confidence?

I didn’t realise that the link to the radio show doesn’t always appear in the emails alerting you to another exciting episode of these Antics, so apologies for that. And a jolly Happy New Year to you.

Meri Kirihimete

Our walk to Didsbury was uneventful, Unless you count the ducks shouting at us from the river.

I don’t think they wanted us to walk over the bridge for some reason. Maybe they just wanted some privacy, thinking Spring was on its way. After all, it was 21 degrees warmer today than it was on the coldest day last week: 14° versus -7°.

After walking back to Northenden, Liesel went straight home while I continued along the river. I had two plans in mind. First, a hot chocolate at Quirky Misfits, which was very nice.

And second, a visit to the barber. Yes, my barnet was bit untidy and needed sorting out. It does look better, I admit, but boy, does my neck feel cold now! Still, Liesel approved and that’s all that matters really: she has to look at it, I don’t.

Our regular Wednesday walk was uneventful unless you count having to sit outside Boxx2Boxx with our coffees afterwards. As always before going away for a few days, there were 101 things to do at home at the last minute.

But I didn’t start packing until a couple of hours before we left home. Liesel drove us to Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire, where we’d rented a cottage for a week.

The drive was OK, it rained a bit and we didn’t need to worry about glare from the Sun. Our only stop was in Colne, for coffee, and to pass some time as we couldn’t check in until 4pm.

It’s a hilly place, is Colne, we could have had a good workout here. We drove past a tree that was still laden with apples. Very bright apples, I thought they were Christmas baubles at first. In one field, a big sheep and a small pony seemed to be great buddies. And they were about the same size.

We saw many pheasants along the way. They’re not the brightest of birds are they? Standing in the middle of the road playing chicken. At least the crows noshing on a squished bunny have the sense to get out of the way when a car approaches.

We got the keys from the lockbox, parked up, and made several journeys between the car and our accommodation. Time for some stats. It’s supposed to be a holiday, but we’re on the second floor, which means climbing 40 stairs, 40!, compared with only 32 at home. Plus, we brought 16, yes, 16!, bags of stuff with us. No, we’re not staying for six months, just a week. Most of it’s food that we won’t be taking back. I brought my laptop too, and that’s a first. I can do all my usual laptoppy things. Liesel brought her laptop too, so she can do some work. I think my laptoppy things might be more fun.

It was nice to be settled and I made some coffee. Instant, of course. A few minutes later, I took a swig and it tasted… different. Have you adulterated my coffee, I asked Liesel? A grin spread across her face like milk expands when spilt on the kitchen floor. She confessed to adding Baileys to my coffee. No, I didn’t complain.

There seems to be an unwritten competition between us to finish reading The Ink Black Heart. The only reason for our haste is that the book will be deleted from our Kindles in less than two weeks time. Why an electronic copy of a book has to be removed at all is a mystery. Surely the library can ‘lend’ out a hundred copies if it wants?

Bread, cheese, crisps and chutney was our Christmas eve eve eve supper of choice. Highly recommended.

It’s a great cottage, nice and warm, but the trek from my side of the bed to the lavatory is quite long. I should take my pedometer with me, it too needs a good work-out. Needless to say, I had to pay many visits overnight. You’ll probably be blaming the Baileys.

We’re actually staying in what you might call the North Wing of Fountains Hall. It’s creaky to say the least, but it’s very comfortable inside. Most of the electrics are modern, but there is at least one power point remaining from the 1920s, the plug has round pins.

On Friday, much of the estate is closed to the public because that’s when the locals are allowed to go shooting, in an agreement between the former landowners and the National Trust. I was torn between watching the shooters and maybe having a go, and staying well away from them and not being shot. We played safe, and drove over to Brimham Rocks for a quick walk. Last time we were there was in Summer, with the children. Not so warm today, and it started to drizzle too. Or mizzle as I believe the locals call it, something between mist and drizzle.

We climbed to the top of the hill, where there’s a trig point. I was tempted to ask Liesel to sit on it for a photo, but I think I know how terse the response would have been.

As the guide said in the video we watched (really just an excuse to get inside, out of the wet for a few minutes), the folks who built the very first visitors’ centre knew exactly what visitors to the countryside want: a view, a loo and a brew.

Back home, we read, drank coffee (plus Baileys), snacked, listened to the radio and relaxed. We have a nice view from our second floor pad, but a bit of sunshine would be nice. Like what they have down under. Yes, Jenny, Liam, Martha and William have arrived in Australia and will be spending Christmas with Helen. In Summer. No, not at all envious!

Martha and William released from the baggage at the airport

Santa, Martha, Helen, William, Jenny and Liam in the Sun

For the second of my two Christmas radio shows on Wythenshawe Radio this year, I ‘shuffled’ the Christmas tunes on my PC. I cheated a bit, of course, to avoid duplicates and there were a couple of songs I wanted to play, regardless. Plus, the usual, regular features: a David Bowie song and something from my Mum and Dad’s record collection.

Thank you for following our antics in 2022. Let us wish you a very Merry Christmas, Happy holidays, Feliz Navidad, God Jul, Mele Kalikimaka, Joyeux Noël, Fröhliche Weihnachten, Meri Kirimihete and a Blithe Yule, whoever and wherever you are 🎄🎅🏽🎁