Photographs from Scotland (5)

Time for some more photographs from Scotland, and here are five from Stirling Castle, "the gateway to the Highlands", which we visited on Friday 8 October, on the way from Rioslin to Crianlarich. As is obvious from the photographs, it was a bit damp; we also had very low cloud for the entire journey, which meant that we didn't see all that much of the scenery. (But the round trip from Crianlarich to Oban via Glen Coe the following day was, as I've previously posted, gloriously sunny and clear.)

The castle gets its tag from the fact that, until the early modern period, the land around it was marshy and prone to flooding; it thus controlled the route up from lowlands into the Highlands, and was fought over repeatedly by the English and the Scots during the Scottish Wars of Independence in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Following its capture by Robert the Bruce after the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314, it was largely levelled to guard against the future possibility of being held against him; most of what one can now see, therefore, dates from the fifteenth century onwards.

These photographs show, in order, a general view of the Castle, on its rock, from the south; a view of the Forework from without (this initially had four half-round towers and now rises to only a third of its original height, having been damaged in the Cromwellian siege of 1651); the casemates and the bowling green the former built as bomb-proof barracks for government troops following the Jacobite uprisings of the early eighteenth century and the latter probably laid out for James IV in the late fifteenth century); the Great Hall (which has recently been restored, externally and internally, to how it may have appeared when completed in 1503); and the Royal Palace, built by James V to house himself and his queen, Mary of Guise, in 1538 (this is currently under restoration, and thus not presently open to the public).

More photographs of Stirling Castle tomorrow....

Sunshine sans voice

Got back from Bonnie Scotland, and almost immediately succumbed to what seemed a mild enough chesty-coughy thing. End of that first week back was Grand Planting Day for Maysie Memorial Garden. Back home sat down with a nice cup of tea, and promptly lost my voice. Completely. Amusing enough for the first couple of days, since it didn't actually hurt, but by the weekend the novelty was wearing off. By the weekend, I could rasp out the odd word here and there -- very oddly, admittedly. So Saturday JN and I sortied out to Wood Green High Rd to pick up the Crocheting Adventures with Hyperbolic Planes book I'd ordered from the guys at Big Green Bookshop, and managed to achieve all the other useful items on our little list -- including miniature bat stickers for the Addams Family mansion that I have sitting by to make (1/24th scale, from Woodcraft 'fantasy villa' kit).

Sunday, glorious sunshine, so we yomped down to Walthamstow Reservoirs for our own local Autumnwatch experience -- lots of great crested grebes, several little grebes, shovellers, cormorants, herons, swans, lots of tufties, lots of angling chaps, and I caught three fleeting kingfisher glimses. Then up the Lea canal to the cafe at Stonbridge Lock for a cuppa. Then onward to the next bridge, back via the two new bridges that link to Wild Marsh East and Chingford, and home past East Marsh allotments to watch Time Team, Roy Strong on landscape art (managed to not actually mention nature -- though he did note it as a form of response to ecological catastrophe) -- and David Attenborough.

Today glorious sunshine again, so after an early lunch I pottered out to cut back a few untidy bits of garden. Found one of our rose bushes has buds about to open on almost every branch, so postponed its pruning. Nonetheless made three vases of flowers: hot pink nerine lilies and fuchsia in a tall brass vase; autumn roses in a gothic purple vase, and a small fountain of fuschia in purple glass. Down to the allotment with the rest of the prunings for the big compost heap. Nasturtiums all frosted to death, so into the compost with them. Bumper crop of big fat raspberries -- one of the best we've had all year. Also picked mass of rocket leaves, plus a self-sown lettuce starting to bolt, sorrel, alexanders and parsley. Just packing up when there was a shout from down the gate. New chap making his first visit to his plot, with a couple of tiddlers at foot, had his key break off in the gate padlock, which meant none of us could get out. The two others of us there helped him climb out over the fence and passed out the kids. Luckily he lives just around the corner and within a few minutes was back with a pair of pliers, pulled out the broken-off bit of key, and we were free.

Photographs from Scotland (4)

Here's a view to the northeast taken from Edinburgh Castle's Argyle Battery on Tuesday 5 October 2010 -- West Princes Street Gardens occupy the foreground, with Princes Street to the left. The two classical temple-like buildings in the middle distance, to the right of centre, are the Royal Scottish Academy and the National Gallery of Scotland; immediately behind them is the Scott Monument (at 200 feet high, the largest monument to any writer), and to the right of that is the glazed roof of Waverley Station (named after one of Scott's novels). (The tunnels running under the National Gallery are clearly visible.) Sprawling out to the left of the picture, beyond Princes Street, is the 18th century New Town -- although the frontages of the buildings along Princes Street itself have been heavily interfered with, the streets behind it retain much of their original, and rather attractive, appearance.

Photographs from Scotland (3)

Our route from Crianlarich to Oban via the Pass of Glen Coe (see previous postings) took us across Rannoch Moor, which Judith reckons to be the most remote place in Britain (presumably by virtue of being the furthest from any human settlement -- although since it also has its own railway station, one's default assumption is that it can't be that remote). At one point on the road, as it curved up towards Loch Ba, we encountered a layby, and pulled over to take some photographs. And there in the layby was a white camper-van with, just setting up outside it, a bagpiper in "traditional" highland dress (bonnet, kilt, sash, sporran, white hosetops, tongueless brogues and all). A piper? On a layby in Rannoch Moor? Just for us?



Well, no, of course not. Mere minutes after we'd pulled up to take photographs, the first of what would presumably be a stream of tourist coaches pulled up to allow their passengers to get out and take photographs too. Tourist coaches offering by nature a more packaged "experience", they perhaps appreciated it more. For my part, I didn't throw any spare change into the piper's plastic pot (having had enough of bagpipers in "traditional" highland dress by that point), but did take a photograph of him. Then we got back in the car and pressed on to Glen Coe (and a walk in the woods).

Feeble whisper

Are others finding that the on-trend respiratory virus this season gives you a week or so of sore throat and cough, then takes away your voice -- but without (so far at least) all that messy, headachey, sneezey snot-factory head cold business?

Luckily my voice lasted through half of yesterday -- would have been hard to run the Maysie Garden Planting Day without being able to talk to people. But by the time came home from his Friends of Bruce Castle AGM, and informed me he'd just been elected to the illustrious responsibility of Chair, I found myself barely able to squeak out my congratulations and commiserations...

Luckily losing my voice doesn't involve actual pain, just a mild discomfort which is far outweighed by the amusement value of the current faint squeaks that emerge. But I feel slightly cheated that this time it skipped the husky-sexy Lauren Bacall growl stage.

Community garden planting went well...

Maysie Garden -- Grand Planting Party

Glorious weather, lots of people turned out to join in the digging over and planting, we had photographers from the 'Great Book of Tottenham' project and a BBC News crew -- and by 3pm the garden was planted up and we'd even cleared up afterwards. Next session: Friday 22/10 afternoon, starting 2pm -- checking all is in order, possibly popping in some more low-growing decorative ground-cover plants. And if you see this in time, look out for us on BBC TV news this evening Mon 18/10.

In advance, I'd hovered between worrying we had too many plants lined up, and worrying that we wouldn't have enough. This session was to fill the middle of the garden with plants donated from local gardens, underplanted with crocuses and daffodils. The west side is (mostly) the warm 'gold' side -- yellows, oranges, reds, hot colours. The east is (mostly) the 'silver' side -- pinks, blues, purples. The middle bed is certainly stuffed pretty full -- with the soil still quite warm, which should help roots settle in before the winter cold. Around the garden edge and the centre-north bed needed to be mostly left clear for roses, lavender and a magnolia which will be sent when the cold has stopped growth -- but we put crocuses and muscari, dotted the surface with purple bugle, forget-me-nots, creeping jenny etc just so it didn't look too bare in the meantime.


Thank you to everyone who helped -- Audrey grew violas, wallflowers and primroses, Oscar stored the bulbs, brought chairs, tools and an impressive fencepost-digger spade, Paul vigorously de-turfed; his and Dorothy's hose watered it all in at the end; Lynda gave alliums, amelanchier, much advice, a hamamelis, a magnificant ice-plant (sedum sempervivum) and more plants; Sue L brought acanthus, bergenia and japanese anemones; Sue P gave many plants and loaned tools and gloves; Kazuko baked a delicious banana cake; Ben, Alice and Scarlet planted up the scarlet and orange bed; Jon and Christine, Maysie's nephew and his wife came down from Herts bringing some Hayhow family plants; Anne, Sarah, Gloria and others popped in for an hour or so to pitch in. Gavin at Grace Baptist Chapel loaned tables. Mahomed and parks staff from the Council dropped by -- the latter bringing slabs for the pathways and bags of compost and manure. Breannan and Thomas from the Bernie Grant Centre's 'Great Book of Tottenham' project took photos.

And a BBC news crew, following up the 'eight churches in one road' story about Lawrence Rd -- front page of Tottenham Journal last week -- saw us all as ideal local colour for getting some residents' comments on the story.

Photographs from Scotland (2)

On Saturday 9 October, we drove a circular route from Crianlarich through the Pass of Glen Coe (see previous photograph) to the coast at Ballachulish, down the coast to Oban, and back via Lochawe and Glen Lochy. (I give this information so that those of you who are inclined can look it all up on a map.) While in Oban -- where the sun shone, and we had a wonderful sea food lunch in Ee-Usk on the harbour -- we took a short boat trip out to see the seals on a small island offshore. Here's a photograph of them basking in the sun.



P.S. Our waitress in Ee-Usk was Latvian. Our waitress at the Crianlarich Hotel the night before was Hungarian. One almost begins to wonder whether there are any Scots still in Scotland....

Photographs from Scotland (1)

Here's a photograph of the Pass of Glen Coe, taken mid-morning on Saturday 9 October. It was a wee bit windy; but the blue skies! The (almost) shirt-sleeve temperatures! Very unseasonal, for the Scottish Highlands, but you wouldn't have heard us complaining -- oh no....

Happy Birthday Rosie!

Hope you had a good day!

Adventures in plumbing...

Grand planting up day for my 'Maysie Memorial Garden' on Sunday -- so busy list of things to do today. Sitting on loo working out which to tackle first -- go down allotment to dig up plants for the community garden? No, better wait until the washing machine had finished doing the sheets and hang them out to dry before I set off, so could draw planting plan while waiting.... When I noticed steam coming up around the hand-basin next to me:whaaa? Before brain had got much further than 'really shouldn't be doing that -- what's going on?' water started dripping down around the hand basin, then a full-scale little waterfall, sopping carpet. Aaargh! Emergency! emergency!

By the time I'd managed to clear the stopcock cover in the greenhouse, found a screwdriver to unscrew it, another to lift it off, and turned off the water, there was a fine lake on the kitchen floor downstairs, water dripping through the kitchen light fitting, and sopping carpet upstairs. Phoned plumber: £140 all-in, with you within 2 hours -- seemed reasonable so I went for it, with 12 month plumbing insurance cover thrown in. Next hour or so was mopping up the kitchen lake -- always have a floor mop, even if you routinely never bother mopping; putting newspapers down on bathroom carpet to soak up the sop; borrowing more newspapers from neighbour to soak up the sop.

Plumber arrived: flexible woven-silver connecting hose to the hot tap had burst, routine replacement job for him. Just last year (or so), our previous bathroom flood, had been caused by similar flexible connecting hose to toilet giving way. So I got him to replace the cold tap flexible connector before it too got around to giving way, like I just know it would have done before long...

Current state of play: kitchen floor may still have puddles under washing machine and fridge, but its too dark to check them out today. Can't turn kitchen light on or it blows the house lights circuit -- so we will go out for supper this evening. Apart from lack of light to cook by, I just feel a mite too shattered to cook. Bathroom carpet taken up, airing over a couple of chairs until the bed-sheets on our clothes-horses are dry.

Didn't get down to allotment -- but did manage time to dig up forget-me-nots, lung-wort, bearded irises, golden creeping jenny, purple bugle, foxgloves from the back garden to help populate my new community garden at the end of our street.

A Week in Bonnie Scotland

We returned from a week of (mostly) glorious autumn weather in Scotland late yesterday evening, and the Truepeople will be on their way back to Australia via Singapore in a few hours' time. I'll post some pictures of iconic scenery and castles later, once I've organised the 500+ images on my camera chip into folders on my hard drive, but in the meantime here's a slightly blurry photograph of the seven of us (minus me) at dinner on our last night in Collegehill House at Roslin, outside Edinburgh. Mitchell is (as usual) clowning about instead of sitting soberly like the rest of us. (Children, eh?)

Pumpkins

We nipped out to the allotment this afternoon, between the rain, and harvested our pumpkin crop -- eight of them, of various sizes. A photograph appears above. Note the "handle" left on them, to guard against the possibility of rot getting into the stem, and thus into the pumpkins themselves.

It's our best crop for many years. We look forward to enjoying them over the winter....

Catching Up on Long-Outstanding Things

At the start of every year for the past mumble-mumble years, I tell myself that really, finally, no-shit-Sherlock, I am going to Catch Up On Things -- albumise those stacks of photographs, eliminate that reading backlog, complete the various DIY jobs that have been hanging around for, er. Pretty much as you might imagine, though, this never happens -- indeed, the last time I told anyone other than myself that I was going to Catch Up On Things, the person concerned (old bud Maureen) fell about laughing.

Well, now it's me who's laughing, because in a concentrated burst of activity during August and September (before and after our trip to Paris), I have -- a mere seventeen years after the actual trip -- albumised the photographs from our fortnight's tour of Ireland in August 1993. It was a daunting stack: the product of three cameras (mine, the Wugster's, Maureen's), which was perhaps why I'd sidelined it for so long, but once I started looking through it to eliminate the duplicates, the duds and the plain unuseable, it quickly became much more manageable. It was also evident how some of the colour values had faded with time, depending on the paper used -- those photographs printed on Agfa papers had held up well, but those printed using Konica seemed to have become rather darker and in almost all of the photographs taken on the walk through the woods from the Lower to the Upper Lake at Glendalough, printed on Konica paper, the greens had turned to black and the pictures therefore had to be binned. (Bummer.) Judging the colours in other batches of photographs wasn't helped by the fact that for much of the fortnight we were there the weather was overcast and grey -- for which the human eye compensates but pre-digital cameras couldn't -- and there were only three days which could have been described as at all sunny. (In some cases -- Croagh Patrick was one -- I replaced the pictures I took with actual postcard views, on the grounds that one could see more detail in the latter than provided by the grey-on-grey 35mm print.) Anyway, I now have two thick photo albums of the Ireland trip, including the impedimenta with which the pictures may be contextualised (maps, tickets, invoices, leaflets, instructive captions, etc.), and attach below the two photographs I have e-mailed Maureen as proof of my industry.

Of course, this leaves one or two other photographic records still to be albumised -- Andalucia, Madrid and Catalonia from 1998, 1999 and 2004; Pompeii and Herculaneum from 2001; Provence and the Loire Valley from last year; and oh, look, Australia's Red Centre and the Barrier Reef from 2006. (Not to mention, hem hum, Purbeck and Hadrian's Wall.) Quite a lot, in other words. But last weekend I went through to Wood Green for an afternoon's shopping with the Wugster and bought up W H Smith's and Boots's entire stock of expanding photo albums and photo leaf refills, and as soon as we get back from the trip to Edinburgh with the Truepeople in the first week of October I'll be getting stuck in once again.

Ticking them off one by one -- Hever Castle

Last Sunday we went to Hever Castle in Kent for the day.

There's not much of the castle, as a castle, left -- the only original part is the medieval gatehouse and parts of its two flanking towers -- and it was reconstructed in the late fifteenth century as a country manor by Geoffrey Bullen, the grandfather of Anne Boleyn....a name which points to the reason for the castle's notability. Much of what one sees there today (apart from the exterior work) is the product of the restoration undertaken before the First World War by the wealthy American William Waldorf Astor, indulging his love of things European and medieval to create a neo-period family residence. (On the other hand, if you had the money you'd probably indulge that sort of fancy, too.) He also laid out the present grounds, transforming empty meadows into a series of gardens and a boating lake with a loggia and a fountain modelled on the Trevi Fountain in Rome.

We bought a guidebook, we visited the castle, we strolled through the gardens and (to finish) walked around the lake. We also made a short visit to St Peter's Church in Hever village, where Thomas Boleyn is buried, before catching the train back to London. Here are some photographs: of Thomas Boleyn's tomb chest in St Peter's Church (you will note that the carvings are in very poor repair, and that brick has been used to support part of the chest); a general view of the castle itself from the southwest, showing the medieval gatehouse and the exterior walls of the late medieval manor behind it; part of the Tudor gardens; a view of part of the rose garden, with the Wugster at far right, in the distance, about to thrust her proboscis into a flower (note also the yellowness of the grass, thanks to the summer drought -- something which is almost unheard of in these parts, doncha know); and a view of the loggia from across the lake.

Crystal Palace Dinosaurs

Yesterday afternoon we ticked off another in our list of places to visit: the Victorian replica dinosaurs at Crystal Palace in south London.

We had first tried to visit these sometime in the late 1990s, but found them off-limits because they were "awaiting restoration" -- i.e., had fallen into disrepair, but the money to conserve them and prevent further deterioration had not been forthcoming. It seemed that they were fated to moulder away entirely, but then the otherwise supine Bromley council -- the same Bromley council that had destroyed Ken Livingstone's cheap tube fares policy in the 1980s, and thus a favourite of Margaret Thatcher's -- woke up, realised what a tourist-attracting heritage item it had on its hands, and put together a funding bid. The dinosaurs were duly restored, re-opened to public access in 2003, and in 2007 were given Grade I listed status: the highest level of national listing.

As models of extinct creatures, they are in many respects very inaccurate -- the ichthyosaurus, for example, is depicted as able to come onto land to lay eggs, whereas it was wholly aquatic and gave birth to live young; the iguanadon and the megalosaur look more like dogs than lizards; the dicynodon has a shell like a turtle, whereas it is now thought to have looked more like a hippopotamus -- but they have been restored as they appeared to their Victorian builders not just because of their historical value but because of the insight they provide into the history of palaeontology itself: what the people of the time thought about the past, based on their understanding on the fossils then available.

Wikipedia's article on the Crystal Palace dinosaurs gives more information about them and their history, so I won't repeat that here. (Mind you, there doesn't seem to be much information about them anywhere else online.) In the meantime, here are some photographs, of -- in order -- the megalosaurus; a pair of iguanadons; two labyrinthodons (with people in the background for scale); the ichthyosaurus; and the megatherium. The tree the megatherium is hugging is original to the construction of the models; it is now dead, but because it continued growing after they were installed it eventually broke off the creature's left arm; if you examine the picture closely, you can see that the replacement arm is of a different colour.

(P.S. Nerdy travel note: we got to Crystal Palace by the recently re-opened and extended East London line -- so recently re-opened, in fact, that it's only just posted its first quarter's punctuality statistics. The line has also been rebranded, as part of the new London Overground network, grouping together a number of "orphan" routes which help fill the gaps between other services. We thoroughly approve.)