Thursday 6 December 2007 - TGOC Issues and ‘Digital Challengers'

Alan Sloman’s blog on 3 December – please do read it – most eloquently describes a process of preparing for a particular outdoors challenge, in this case the annual two week TGO Challenge walk across Scotland.
Through the ‘noise’ of the Message Board, The Digital Challenger “…wonders, if after all their detailed inquiries as to how boggy a path will be, or how rough a certain bealach may be or how heavy their pack should be or how much water they should carry, what sort of socks they should wear and the length of their shoe laces (round or flat?) if they will ever manage to drag their corpses from one side of Scotland to the other if it rains and their plimsolls get soggy...”
Next year will be my second year of doing the Challenge. This year I asked a few questions about food parcels and the ferry across Loch Ness, camp sites, etc, and received some very sympathetic and helpful responses to my naïve queries.
I have not yet planned next year’s route in detail. I want to do that together with Sue, when she has time, so that we can take joint responsibility should it ‘all go wrong’! However, after last year’s experience as a solo walker (the report is here) I have a clear idea of sensible daily mileage and ascent targets, and as it’s only my second challenge we can choose an excellent ‘new’ route without any duplication of last year’s ‘thin blue line’ (that’s reference to the line plotted on the digital map on the computer). We’ve had the first two days planned for ages, as Sue wants to bag the seven Munros of the South Cluanie Ridge.
This brings me to another issue concerning Digital Challengers, especially those from overseas. Mark Alvarez from the USA has actively joined the TGOC ‘fraternity’ and the message board is potentially of particular help to people like Mark who may not have first hand experience of Scottish hillwalking. It quickly became evident to Mark that questions of gear – waterproofs, footwear, tents, etc – are very much open to personal opinions, a wide range of which can be seen in response to a simple question such as “what type of waterproof?” So the ‘Digital Noise’ is fine, but it does sometimes have to be taken with a pinch of salt, especially where the writer is of the ‘Digital Macho’ type with a name like ‘LeonardoX’ or 'Boom Boom’ with no email address and sometimes extreme or controversial ‘angles’ on topics on which their writings show little evidence of expertise.
Here’s a message I sent to Mark concerning one of these peculiar little jokey messages:

One correspondent on the Message Board states:
"Mark, whatever figure you arrive at as elevation gain for your chosen route, the amount of climbing will still be the same.
And when walking, if you encounter a feature known as a Munro, then walk around it, rather than over it. That's what the old drovers did and they were clever fellows."
He or she is joking, obviously, but this could be misleading and whilst I don't pretend to understand the first sentence, I would point out that the 'drovers' had a completely different agenda to that of the modern-day Challenger. If the weather is good, and it often is in May, the high level ridges can be absolutely magnificent. It's pretty easy to work out from the map where high level camps may be feasible (the Message Board can be a help) and personally I would always give myself the option of a high level route, reserving the lower level, and often much boggier, midgier and perhaps tick ridden route for poor weather - the ‘Foul Weather Alternative.”

My advice is that anyone seeking genuine helpful assistance could do worse than contact stalwarts such as ‘Mr Grumpy’, Alan Sloman, Ian C, Derek Emsley, Ian Shiel and Phil Lambert (and there are many more) and treat some of the jolly jesters with the suspicion they deserve!
As regards gear, you could do worse than contact Bob and Rose (pictured above with Loch Ness on this year’s Challenge) of backpackinglight.co.uk for guidance. They are well informed as to what might currently be the best gear for the intended purpose and they can usually supply it at a competitive price. They are always happy to discuss the pros and cons of any particular item.

That’s all the Digital Noise you’ll get from me today!

Wednesday 5 December 2007 - The Ship Inn and The Hanging Stone

A break in the weather gave me the chance to nip out to The Ship Inn at Danebridge for a little circuit to clarify this coming Sunday’s route. There was one short impassable section encountered on our 10 October recce, and I just needed to check the way around this.
So I parked outside The Ship and strolled across the bridge over the River Dane and on up to The Hanging Stone, a prominent landmark in these parts, and a splendid viewpoint to boot.
A crossing of the River Dane at Danebridge was first recorded in 1190, where it was known as Scliderford, meaning a slippery ford. In 1357, Sliderford Bridge was constructed, but was rebuilt in the seventeenth century, using stone. Unfortunately, this was washed away by floods in 1631 and replaced a year later by another, more sturdy, bridge. The present bridge dates from around 1869, and was funded by the two Counties of Cheshire and Staffordshire, with each paying £1,000 for its upkeep; materials being supplied by the Brocklehurst family, of Swythamley Hall, who were major landowners during the eighteenth century.
The Hanging Stone perches on the hillside like a giant fist, a sentinel overlooking Swythamley, on the Staffordshire side of the River Dane. Swythamley Hall stands in a fine park and was originally a mediaeval hunting lodge belonging to the Abbey of Dieulacres near Leek. The hall was granted to the Traffords by Henry VIII in 1540 and became their home and that of their successors, the Brocklehursts. Unfortunately the original house burned down in 1813, so the modern building is a rebuild dating from then. The Brocklehursts had an adventurous history. One of them accompanied Shackleton to the Antarctic. The Hanging Stone bears a plaque to Colonel Brocklehurst, who was killed in Burma in 1942. A game warden in the Sudan, he started a private zoo at Swythamley when he returned to Britain, and during the Second World War the animals were released into the countryside because there was no food for them. The wallabies from the zoo survived and bred around the Roaches until the late 1990s. Sightings of them have surprised many walkers and climbers over the years. The plaque reads:
“Lt. Col. Henry Courtney Brocklehurst. 10th Royal Hussars and Pilot in the Royal Flying Corps, 1916 - 1918. Game Warden of the Sudan. Born at Swythamley, May 27th, 1888. Killed Whilst On Active Service, in Burma, on Commando. June 1942.
Horses he loved and laughter, the sun. Wide spaces and the open air.
The trust of all dumb living things he won, and never knew the luck too good to share.
His were the simple heart and open hand, and honest faults he never strove to hide.
Problems of life he could not understand, but as a man would wish to die he died.
Now, though he will not ride with us again, his merry spirit seems our comrade yet.
Freed from the power of loneliness and pain, forbidding us to mourn or to forget.
Erected by his devoted brother – 1949”

There’s a second, earlier stone plaque at the foot of the stone:
“Beneath This Rock
August 1, 1874 was buried
BURKE
A Noble Mastiff
Black and Tan
Faithful as Woman
Braver than Man
A Gun and a Ramble
His Heart’s Desire
With the Friend of his Life
The Swythamley Squire”

Swythamley has been convincingly identified as the castle of the Green Knight of the classic mediaeval poem "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight" and nearby Lud's Church as the knight's 'Green Chapel'. This probably means that the unknown author was connected with Dieulacres in some way.

I continued on past Back Forest to Roach End, then through modern day ‘access land’ to gain the Roaches ridge. Dropping past the rocks I stopped by the BMC’s Don Whillans Memorial Hut for a flask of tea. There were numerous parties of schoolkids, climbing or lunching in a brisk shower of rain; there were no less than 7 school minibuses in the lay-by.
My route then took me easily past Pheasant’s Clough to Green Lane to complete my recce by finding an easy way around the impassable path.
Continuing by a boggy route past Turner’s Pool, I watched a fisherman land a 9 pounder and then return it to the pond. A short stretch of tarmac past a converted chapel brought me back to The Ship Inn, which is believed to date from the sixteenth century.

There are numerous stories associated with the pub, mainly concerning the name. It is presumed that a relative of Sir John Brocklehurst, who owned nearby Swythamley Hall, Sir Philip Brocklehurst, sailed with the explorer Shackleton on one of his many expeditions to the Antarctic, as an Assistant Geologist, although history states that he may well have been a paying guest. It was often thought that the sign on the Ship Inn related to the famous Endeavour, a 1914 expedition, but it depicts the Nimrod in Antarctic Ice. Others say that the Ship is named after another vessel, known as the Swythamley, which was owned by a close friend of the Squire, and that the pub was named in his honour. These days it is renowned for the fine real ales on sale, and a popular restaurant. I enjoyed a glass of Golden Jackal to conclude this pleasant stroll.

Tuesday 4 December 2007 - A New Camera

At last. Sue has chosen her long-awaited birthday present. Here it is, and it looks fantastic. But the images will be huge, so careful editing will be needed (or another external hard drive!).
Good news as well for a local business, Equipment Express in Altrincham. This small retail business, established in 1989, now competes with internet prices (and achieves most of its sales over the internet), and given the ‘extras’ and a three year warranty I couldn’t find a better deal anywhere.
The free case appears to be the weak link, it’s awkward to use; but luckily we have a spare, if rather aged, Camera Care Systems case that should provide all the protection that is needed.

Monday 3 December 2007 - Highlights of the Year – Part 2 – The Canadian Ski Marathon (CSM) – Saturday 10 February 2007

This, my fourth CSM, was a great day.
We were up at 6 am in our hotel in Montebello. After breakfast in the room shared by 5 of us we got the bus to the start and the four of us in the ‘Scrabbled Skiers’ team set off at around 8 am together with 100's of others in good weather with occasional snow flurries. The skiing was fairly easy. Michael shot off ahead, Helen dropped back, and Sue crashed. Ken, as a ‘Coureur des Bois’ had an earlier start.
Due to poor snow conditions in the east, this year’s route had been changed. It now comprised 4 sections each day, Sunday’s route being a straightforward reversal of Saturday’s. It was just 70 km each day instead of the usual 80 km.
I had never even dreamt of completing all the sections in a day, due to early cut off times and my inability to ski at any speed. But Sue and I stayed together and whilst she had quite a few falls over the two days, including one incident with a bush from which it took ages to untangle her, I discreetly removed my skies to deal with the trickier icy sections. (This is Not Cheating!) Towards the end of the third section I was baulked by a number of folk spreadeagled down a steep hill. Sue had dodged them but I’d stopped to allow them to tidy themselves away before flying down this exciting hill in what I thought would be my last action of the day.
But at the checkpoint Sue was shouting ‘they haven’t closed it’, so without a second thought I went straight through, being the last person before the 2.30 ‘cut-off’. Whilst Sue ended her day with refreshments at the checkpoint, I was now ‘last man’ having missed the refreshments, at the start of the 17 km section.
Time for some adrenaline to kick in!
I soon started to pass groups who had started between one and two hours earlier than us and had clearly rushed through the checkpoint before taking a break, so I was encouraged by all the overtaking. And then I spotted Linda, usually one of our team but this year attempting the whole course as a ‘Coureur des Bois’. I knew that she was taking the event very seriously and that her training had been completed before ours had even started. She wasn’t at all impressed to hear my cheery ‘hello’ – I was not someone she had expected to see at this point! Anyway, with the aid of a couple of drinks stations and a few chocolate covered raisins, I managed to maintain a good speed to the finish, in the tracks of Ken and Michael, who had been much quicker over the 70 km course that had taken me about 8½ hours.
The hot bath followed by a delicious a la carte meal at La Lanterne Restaurant concluded a brilliant day.
The following day Sue and I enjoyed a leisurely 56 km, knowing that we couldn’t possibly ski fast enough to manage the 2.30 pm cut off due to the configuration of the course and today’s short final section.
Even speedy Michael failed to make the cut today, but Ken, with his early C de B start, did succeed in completing the whole course and got the medal he’s been trying for over the past few years. His moment of fame came later at The Banquet, when he went ‘on stage’ together with all the others who had succeeded in this not inconsiderable Challenge.
[For those who do the TGOC, the CSM Banquet is a Canadian version of the Thursday night dinner, buffet style, but otherwise the same trusty format, with a French Canadian clone of Uncle Roger.]
Later we discovered that Linda was sufficiently traumatised to have stayed in bed on Sunday, having retired from this event ‘for ever’.

But Sue and I had got Silver and Gold individual awards, and our Scrabbled Skiers team actually received the Bronze Medal in the mixed touring team category. Wow!

Sue and I are sorry not to be able to take part in 2008; this event has produced some memorable days, not least my first attempt in 2004, recorded in all its gory detail here.

Sunday 2 December 2007 - Il-Quccija - A Maltese Celebration

The Quccija celebrates a baby’s 1st birthday. At the Quccija guests consisting of relations and close friends are invited by the parents to their home. When the guests are assembled the child is brought in and if it is a boy he is traditionally presented with a tray containing corn, sweet meat, coins, an inkstand, a candle, a rosary, a book, a sword and other toys. If the child is a girl, needles, silk ribbons and an egg take the place of the sword and the inkstand. Nowadays other items are included on the tray such as a stethoscope, a computer, a calculator and such like.
The choice the baby makes on this occasion is believed, according to Maltese tradition, to give an idea of his future disposition and the profession which the child will follow. For example, if the child chooses corn it is a sign of a liberal character. If the inkstand is picked out it points towards an inclination for trade or the bar. If the choice falls on coins, commerce or industry is indicated. The choice of an egg means that the girl will have a house full of furniture and children.
It was a pleasure to see Will and Caroline, and their 1 year old, Drew, who we had not met before. They have moved into the Surrey countryside so it was our first visit to their new home in Hindhead, where they have taken on the derelict ground floor of a substantial old property and have spent the last year making it habitable. After having no garden in London they now have extensive grounds, and though today’s weather wasn’t conducive to exploration, Sue and I did spy a grassy tennis court that will entice us back to this lovely spot.
The afternoon’s ‘formal business’ found Drew, encouraged by his elder brother and sister, choosing most of the toys on the tray – the modern boy must keep his options open, perchance – but he did keep returning to the coins, for what it’s worth.

Saturday 1 December 2007 - Center Parcs

The Dishy Pharmacist and I headed across the Peak District to Sherwood Forest on a beautiful morning, the sun doing its best to burn its image onto our retinas as we sped eastwards.
On arrival we dashed off to villa 713 after our usual wrestling match with the giant, but full, car park. Then our feet hardly touched the ground on the way to the squash court, followed by archery, flexiball, badminton, and short tennis, before most of us adjourned to the swimming pool for a break before dinner. Somewhere in the middle of all this, Peg served a sumptuous lunch back at the villa.
We left Stuart to find a stranger to partner him in the Badminton Tournament; he did well, returning later with a winner’s certificate. We heard a lot about this unexpected triumph.
The lamb was delicious, and the bread and butter pudding was obviously appreciated as it vanished in a trice.
The traditional slide show followed, though this year it was in digital form, with pictures from the Dolomites and the Vanoise to entice the others into visiting those fabulous locations. Here’s the Dolomites vista that has graced the foot of this blog during November (prize for spotting the exact location still awaits a home!).

Just waiting for the bill now, Robert!

Friday 30 November 2007 - Chocolate Bread and Butter Pudding

Tomorrow is our annual pilgrimage to Center Parcs at Sherwood Forest, where our group of nine will do sporty things all day and then enjoy a meal and a slide show in the chalet. This is one event we don’t get involved in organising – it’s all down to Rob and Lyn – well done and long may your travails continue, R&L!
They even organise the food, and I have volunteered a dessert to follow lamb and apricot hotpot, so I spent an hour this morning preparing this pudding, which needs no further attention until the oven tomorrow night. It’s easy and delicious. Here’s how, for 9 people, but it can just as easily be made for any number of folk. (Excellent for two, actually.)

Chocolate Bread and Butter Pudding

Ingredients
14 slices of 5mm thick good quality white bread, one day old, from a large loaf
225 gm dark chocolate with 75% cocoa solids, chopped
600 ml whipping cream
6 tablespoons dark rum
165 gm caster sugar
120 gm butter
¼ tsp cinnamon
5 small eggs

To Serve
Well chilled double cream

Equipment
Ovenproof dish, lightly buttered, approx 15x30 cm base x 5 cm deep (smaller for reduced quantities)

Method
Remove the crusts (whizz them into breadcrumbs for future use) to give roughly 10 cm squares. Cut each one into 4 triangles.
Place the chocolate, whipping cream, rum, sugar, butter and cinnamon in a bowl set over a pan of barely simmering water. Don’t let the bowl touch the water (or allow granny to suck the eggs)! Wait for all the ingredients to melt and for the sugar to dissolve. Then remove the bowl from the heat and give it a good stir to amalgamate the ingredients.
In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs and then pour the chocolate mixture over them and whisk again very thoroughly.
Spoon a 1 cm layer of the mixture into the base of the dish and arrange half the bread triangles over the chocolate in overlapping rows. Then pour half the remaining mixture over the bread as evenly as possible and arrange the rest of the triangles over that, finishing off with the rest of the chocolate. Press the bread down gently so that it gets covered evenly with the liquid.
(At this stage it looks like the above picture.)
Cover with clingfilm and allow to stand at room temperature for two hours. Transfer to refrigerator for a minimum of 24 (but preferably 48) hours before cooking.
Preheat oven to 180C. Remove the clingfilm and bake on a high shelf for 30-35 minutes. The top will be crunchy and the inside soft and squidgy. Leave to stand for 10 min before serving with chilled double cream.
Delicious.
[Adapted from the recipe in Delia Smith’s Winter Collection]

Thurday 29 November 2007 - Blogging Spam

After nearly two months of blogging, I had my first incidence of spam on the blog overnight. Someone called Crescenet from Brazil. Now I don’t speak or read Brazilian, so I can’t be sure, but money seemed to be mentioned – perhaps they are selling drugs. Anyway, it ended with a polite request in very good English to add them to my ‘blogroll’. Ha!
The shame is, I may have to employ the moderator facility, so comments (few though they are) won’t appear immediately.
Today’s picture is the genuine article – a ‘postcard’ from Timperley Bridge, taken on my way to work.

Wednesday 28 November 2007 - Highlights of the Year – Part 1 – The Rum Cuillin Ridge

As today is a bit grey, and my bowels are still recovering from Jordan, it’s a day indoors, and I’m short of inspiration.
But Jon Metcalf has emailed me with a request for photos for this weekend’s XXL Club Annual Dinner at the Fife Arms in Braemar. Sadly I can’t make the dinner, but I can recall with clarity a highlight of the year, on 5 May – Jon’s 1000th Marilyn – Ainshval on the Isle of Rum. This was a baggerfest. Even Alan Dawson, author of The Relative Hills of Britain – a book you will pick up again and again - was there. Jon took a low level route whilst 6 of us fumbled our way along the misty ridge and steep ground of the Rum Cuillin. This was not ‘a walk in the park’, but between us we had enough experience of Scottish weather and navigation to see us through to our rendezvous with Jon at 2.45. He was a bit cool, as we were 45 minutes late due to the necessary care that the conditions had required. Here he is, enjoying the moment with a couple of mates (he’s holding them) - and very relieved to see us too. The summit is just up to the right.

Our haste to descend from the final summit left some of the party floundering in the mist, so it was by three different routes that we converged on Dibidil Bothy, where several young ladies were relieved to learn that we weren’t planning to stay. Most of us got back to Kinloch Castle at 7.45, after an 11 hour day. Jon walks more slowly, so we had to delay dinner until his arrival, at 9.15, after an adventure with a river (it was raining hard). A very long day for him, but I think he did get one of the better rooms in the ‘bunkhouse’, like this one I shared with the Dishy Pharmacist for just £14 pppn!

Tuesday 27 November 2007 - Innov8 Roclites in Sand

As reported last week, our desert walk on 19 November was in ‘boots’. Having served me so well in Madeira, I had taken the now broken in Roclites. That was a mistake. The mesh on the Roclites looks solid enough, doesn’t it? I knew it wasn’t at all water resistant. I soon discovered it is not at all sand resistant, either. So the shoes quickly filled with sand and the tight spot on the right heel was immediately a problem. A precautionary plaster following the previous night’s short walk didn’t really help, and I finished up losing about 1 sq inch of skin from the heel.
I’m actually happy with the shoes and can use Sealskinz socks to keep the water out, but they are definitely not suitable for walking in the desert. I used trekking sandals for the rest of the trip, with no problem at all, despite the guide’s scepticism.

15 March 2011 - Postscript:
My initial optimism about these shoes was finally dashed when during 2008 the linings inside the heel split, leaving me with blisters every time I used them.  They had done less than 300 km, mostly in Madeira and New Zealand, before they were abandoned in a far corner of our kitchen.  Very disappointing, really, especially after all the effort taken to ensure that they were the right shoes for me.  They weren't.  Should anyone wish to take them on, I'll be happy to donate them - they are in reasonable condition apart from the heels - UK size 8½.

Jordan Slideshow - 'Happy Holidays'

I have uploaded about 120 snaps to a Photobox album, with invitations to those on the Jordan trip, insofar as I have their details, and a handful of others who I know may be interested. If you have not received an invitation, and you would like to view these photos, please let me know and I'll add you to the list.

....Happy Holidays

Martin

Monday 26 November 2007 - A Surprise from San Jose

One of the items of mail discovered on our return from Jordan was a package from one Thomas Rivell, of San Hose. Enclosed was the Sierra Club’s 2008 Engagement Calendar, with weekly photographs of the highest quality of flora and fauna and fabulous North American landscapes. It is in a similar format to the John Muir Trust Calendar edited by John Cleare that we usually pick up at the Kendal Mountain Festival. But having missed the KMF this year, the Sierra Club calendar is a fine alternative and a lovely present. Thank you, Thomas, who very appropriately wishes us ‘Happy Holidays’. And may you also enjoy many more Happy Holidays, Thomas.
I’ll write about my ‘Travails with Thomas’ on another occasion.

Sunday 25 November 2007 - Orion Marches

The trip to Jordan has inspired me to get hold of TE Lawrence’s ‘Pillars of Wisdom’. Spending time in this part of the world that has been so troubled by wars and unrest (sadly not unlike many parts of the world I suppose) reminded me of another book in my possession, ‘Orion Marches’ a collection of poems by Michael Roberts. Many of the poems, published in 1939, have deeply emotive wartime themes, such as ‘Victory’ and ‘Defeat’. Roberts was a highly skilled wordsmith, his essay ‘The Poetry and Humour of Mountaineering’ being a supremely rich piece of writing. He was clearly an Alpine enthusiast and a skilled climber as well as a deep thinker. Many of his poems have a mountaineering theme. I can’t say I’m a fan of Alpine starts, but this poem is so evocative that the Dishy Pharmacist and I chose an extract from it for the Reading at our wedding. Picture yourself at a mountain hut high in the Alps on a summer’s day:

The Green Lake

Eloquent are the hills: their power speaks
In ice, rock and falling stone;
The voices of croziered fern, wood-sorrel, gentian, edelweiss,
Lead upward to the summit or the high col.

The mountain lake mirrors the hills, and the white clouds
Move in a blue depth, the hut stands empty:
No one appears all day, nothing disturbs
The symphony of ice and yellow rock and the blue shadow.

And at dusk the familiar sequence: the light
Lingering on the peak; and near the horizon
Apricot-coloured skies, then purple; and the first stars;
An hour of bustle in the hut, and then silence.

Only at two in the morning men stir in the bunks,
Look out of the windows, put on their boots,
Exchange a word with the guardian, curse the cold,
And move with a force beyond their own to the high peaks.

Be still for once. Do not sing,
Let the blood beat its symphony unanswered;
Remain here by the lake for a whole day
With the sky clear and the rocks asking to be climbed.

There is music in movement, in the song, the dance,
The swing of the accordion in the crowded hut,
The swing of the axe in the icefall; but be still.
Listen. There is another voice that speaks.

Footnote: The battered state of this book, when I acquired it, bore evidence of its 60 year vintage. However, until then it had never been read! A sharp kitchen knife was required to separate the pages and render them readable. I hope others will appreciate them in the future…

Saturday 24 November 2007 - Run From The Sun

We said goodbye to Julie, who flies back to Canada tomorrow, before embarking on an uneventful journey to Heathrow on Royal Jordanian Airways’ newly refurbished Airbus A321. More goodbyes, a long wait in the cold for a bus to return six of us to Purple Parking, then an easy drive home.
And now to write up the trip. Perhaps a bit more quickly than usual due to the discipline required to keep the blog up to date, but I still expect to take a couple of weeks to catch up. So this is the last Postcard from Jordan, taken near Petra, courtesy of Sue and Phil, featuring L to R: Vicky, Sue, Phil, Martin, Sue (front), Julia and Martin.

For anyone interested, the cost of this trip for the two of us was:
£
Explore fees 1,780
Local Payment 125
Parking 52
Fuel from Manchester 40
Camel Ride 40
Turkish Bath 28
Meals and Drinks 80
Tips 55
Sundries and presents 40
TOTAL £2,240

This compares with £400 for my recent week in Madeira.

Friday 23 November 2007 - A Roman Outpost, and a Floating Experience

For a change, I didn’t sleep well, perhaps due to the noise outside and the scratchy sheets, and some stomach pain that a Cipro tablet sorted out.
We were up at 7 am for the hotel breakfast – not much for me. Sue is a bit chirpier today, so that’s good.
Mahmoud had us setting off as usual at 8 am, in a different ‘Rum Tourism’ bus today with a friendly driver (not to say that the one who went to sleep wasn’t friendly!). A 1½ hour drive from Madaba saw us at Jerash (or is it Jarash?), a few miles north of Amman. This is apparently the largest Roman site outside Italy. The brochure advertises ‘Take a Walk Through History’, and what a walk that was. Entering through the massive arch built for Hadrian to commemorate his visit to this edge of his Empire in 129 AD, we strolled past the Hippodrome. Men dressed as Romans were readying themselves for a chariot racing re-enactment around this 245 x 52 metre arena that could seat some 15,000 spectators. Only after this are the City Walls reached at the South Gate. Soon a 90 x 80 metre oval plaza leads to the colonnaded street (shown above) that runs NNE for some 800 metres. This was the main shopping street, with broad pavements, shops, and an underground sewage system.
Half way along this street on the left are stairs leading up to a Byzantine church, now known as the Cathedral, above which lies the Church of Saint Theodore, built around 496 AD. Here there are huge pillars that rock when pushed! We tried it – scary! Higher up are the remains of more churches, and another once magnificent mosaic floor comprising seasonal images and flora and fauna.
A path took us above the site, with good views over modern Jerash, to the South Theatre.
The 3000 seat auditorium has been soundly reconstructed and is still in use. The remarkable acoustics allow a speaker at the centre of the orchestra floor to be heard by the whole auditorium without raising his voice. We enjoyed magnificent views over the whole site from the top row of seats, whilst being deafened by the incongruous sound of some badly tuned local bagpipes attempting ‘Scotland the Brave’ and other tourist favourites.
We could have lingered here all day (once the bagpipes stopped), but “Yallah” – ‘Come on’ urged Mahmoud, coaxing us back into the bus. Not even Phil and Sue’s bid for freedom lasted long, as they were finally tracked down and brought to heel (those who know Phil will realise how difficult that can be, especially when distracted by the large lizards that were sunbathing nearby!).
Then we went to the Dead Sea for a swim (no photos I’m afraid – the camera was left in the bus). It was a tad salty. 30% salt actually. Normal seawater is about 4% salt. Trying to swim breaststroke was a little awkward as your legs wouldn’t stay in the water. I got salt in my eyes trying this – not very pleasant. Much to the amusement of those on the shore, Sue organised some synchronised swimming which ended with both arms and both legs raised high in the air – a position that was not really very stable! You could relax here with a newspaper, as if sitting in a salty liquid deckchair.
The sea was quite warm, though Sue W didn’t find it so; she stood forlornly half in-half out until finally giving up.
On returning to the shower room it was difficult to remove all the salt – some of our eyes and other bits will be stinging for days! We adjourned ‘poolside’, where loud disco music and gyrating locals rather spoilt the ambience for everyone else. We had to move away just to be able to speak with each other. It is about 400 metres below normal ‘sea level’ here, probably the lowest that most of us have ever been. The city of Jericho can be seen not far away.
The holiday was now drawing to its conclusion, and we finally got the ‘shopping experience’ some may have been yearning for. And so, on the way back to Amman, we pulled up alongside many more tourist coaches to an emporium of mainly tacky goods. (Perhaps I’m biased; I’m just not interested in combining shopping with travelling.) The bath salts from the Dead Sea did attract custom from some – on the grounds they would be ‘original’ presents, but on return home Sue noticed that these were cheaper in Boots!
After taking advantage of the full-size bath sported by our room in the Toledo Hotel, we assembled for anaesthetic in the hotel bar in an effort to dull our senses in anticipation of the white-knuckle taxi ride across Amman to the Windmill Restaurant (actually Tawaheen Al-Hawa Restaurant – but it had a windmill outside). More beer? Wine? No chance, this was Mahmoud’s choice of restaurant, another fixed price (D15 this time) meal that actually makes sorting out the bill much easier. There were some locals as well as quite a number of tourist groups at this place, and I have to say, the food was excellent. Numerous salads to start, and some kebab style bits of meat, including delicious small sausages. Then a mixed grill comprising various different meats, all washed down with a delicious minted lemon drink.
A collection had been made and Phil presented Mahmoud with his guide’s tip, as is traditional on this sort of tour – around £150 – not bad for his week’s efforts. We had already provided $450 between us for the other helpers’ tips, so I think we put an acceptable sum into the Jordanian economy in tips alone.
Soon we were heading back across Amman in another fleet of the battered yellow white-knuckle death traps known locally as taxis, flying past millionaires’ houses with ostentatious gold door furniture, towards the Toledo, pausing only to ask the way before further flaying of the suspension on the ubiquitous and very necessary speed bumps.
The antidote…more beer, whilst we said final goodbyes to Mahmoud, who is heading back to Petra either tonight or on a very early bus tomorrow.

Thursday 22 November 2007 - Castles and Mosaics

On Tuesday we met Marguerite van Geldermalsen, a New Zealander of Dutch parentage, who married a Bedouin following an unlikely holiday romance in 1978. She brought up her children in the family cave in Petra. Only a handful of people still live in the caves, and Marguerite has recently written about her experiences. Now widowed, she has moved with the times, and even has her own web site! Her book promises to be a good read.
It was another cool morning, but everyone must have had more than enough sleep as we were up from this last night’s camping before 7 am. Luckily for Sue, it was to be a sightseeing day, with loos never far away. A bus picked us up from camp for the 3 hour journey along the ‘beautifully scenic’ King’s Highway to Karak. Unfortunately low cloud obscured the views, so we resorted to the faster ‘Desert Highway’. On the way the driver of the old Toyota bus fell asleep. Luckily he was ‘under observation’, and a yell went up from a number of people who had been watching his sagging eyelids through the rear view mirror. And so we made it to Karak, where a Crusader castle built in the C12th, as its Wikipedia entry explains…”extends over the southern part of the plateau. It is a notable example of Crusader architecture, a mixture of European, Byzantine, and Arab designs. Its walls are strengthened with rectangular projecting towers, long stone vaulted galleries are lighted only by narrow slits, and it contains a deep moat from the west which completely isolates the site.”
The castle is famous for withstanding sieges, but was finally captured by Saladin in 1189. Its fortifications were largely destroyed much later, around 1840, but recently there has been much restoration work, and a new museum opened in 2004.
Mahmoud, the archaeologist, guided us around the castle in cool, wet weather. It was an excellent structure, with 3 storeys and wide tunnels; a shame that we didn’t have time for a full exploration.


After adjourning to the pleasantly heated museum, it was soon time to re-board the bus and fight our way around the narrow, double parked, hilly streets of Karak. This is a fertile area, with lots of grocery shops, and, as can be seen from the coach window, a selection of goats – still with heads and long ears, with their organs hanging next to them!

It was about two hours to Madaba, on the way to which we crossed Wadi Jubim, a 600 metre deep valley with a new reservoir at the bottom. We stopped at a viewpoint where the usual 1 Dinar stalls were abundant, this time selling bits of local rock, and it was strange to see a river (to the left of this picture) in the arid landscape. [The sellers of baubles were never obtrusive and were easy to deter – reluctantly, as these people were so friendly.]

Madaba is famous for its mosaics, and we headed straight for the mosaic map found in the Greek Orthodox Church of St George, built in 1884 over the remains of a Byzantine Church. The map focuses on Jerusalem with its colonnaded main street, and has 157 captions written in Greek. It dates to around 560 AD and originally measured some 16 x 6 metres and comprised over 2 million bits of rock. The Dead Sea is shown, as well as fish escaping its salty waters by swimming up the river Jordan. We strolled back to the bus down damp streets, occasionally pausing for those enticed by shops, which this trip has (thankfully) rarely encountered.
Next, a short drive to Mount Nebo, where Moses reputedly died. There is a memorial church housing more exceptional mosaics, and the view past the Brazen Serpent monument over the Rift Valley to Jerusalem and Jericho, with the River Jordan and the Dead Sea, was lovely in the sunset light. Mahmoud admitted he had never seen it so clear – the rain had literally washed away the haze.
Our final stop of the day was at a mosaic workshop, where we were shown how the pieces of rock are glued face down onto pieces of cloth on which patterns have been drawn. The borders are created first, then the inside of the figures and finally the ‘filling’ and edges. Then the fabric is turned upside down and set in a bed of grout, after which the fabric is removed and the glue washed off to reveal the pristine shiny rock surfaces below.
The workshop visit was designed to lure us into the adjoining shop, and whilst some of the garden furniture with mosaic tables was very nice, it was extremely expensive (up to £6,000), so nobody committed themselves.
We then adjourned to the Mariam Hotel, where the bath was pleasant but very short, and the D7 set meal brought a few complaints from those who wanted to go a la carte. It was Mahmoud’s first night with us for a while, as he had spent the last two nights with his family in Petra, and he didn’t show any interest in Sandra, Sally and Katie’s requests. In the end Sally got her pasta and chips! And Sally and Katie prevailed upon some Aussies to order them burgers. Nothing was particularly appetising, and the veg was cold. Sue (fasting) didn’t miss much.

Wednesday 21 November 2007 - The Petra Experience

Back to the 7 am reveille, breakfast of pitta bread, jam, cheese, eggs, halva, spices with olive oil, mixed veg, and very sweet tea or coffee, then away by 8 am along a surprisingly entertaining path which at times resembled the Lower Cycle Track (aka Sentiero Osvaldo Orsi) in the Brenta Dolomites above Molveno.
Views stretched out west towards Wadi Araba and the Dead Sea, with the Mediterranean beyond that. But it was cloudy, so we couldn’t actually really see as far as Israel. Goats adorned the hillsides with their Bedouin minders. Some of our party found the path a bit hard, but the rock was firm and Mahmoud helped where necessary. On one of the ledges some enterprising folk, no doubt primed by Mahmoud, had set up a mobile ‘café’ where tea was supplied for 1 Dinar (70 pence).
After about three hours we emerged at Ad-Deir, the Monastery (pictured above), another massive edifice carved into the rock. We clambered inside to explore the 8 metre cube (not much to see there) before heading into the hustle and bustle of modern day Petra – a tourist trap par excellence. It’s supposedly 900 steps down to the main street, but we didn’t count; we were too busy dodging donkeys hauling overweight tourists up the hill, or rushing down to collect more.
Once down, we were allowed a few hours of ‘free time’. Some of us gravitated for lunch on the steps of the only freestanding building in Petra to have survived over 2000 years of earthquakes and floods, the massive Qasr al-Bint temple. Then we visited the recently restored church, where papyrus scrolls from ancient times have been found. It is covered by a tent structure supported by six columns, to protect an ancient mosaic. On Sue’s previous visit 10 years ago this church had hardly been discovered.
By the time we reached the Royal Tombs, which form the eastern boundary of the site, it was a very hot afternoon. We admired the wonderful, if seriously eroded, facades, before embarking on the first of many dashes to the loo for Sue during the course of the next two days.
We saw doves, rose finches, mourning wheatears, winter wrens, etc.
The time flew past, and after a visit to see artefacts in the new museum we reconvened at 2.30 for the stroll back up to camp by a different route to the top, then via an ancient wine press and a reservoir that we had passed on the way down. We were accompanied by the 10 year old son of Mahmoud’s brother-in-law. Allah stuck it out all the way to camp, where his persistence bore fruit and he did a good trade in postcards. Even this 10 year old was happy to accept payment in £, $ or €, as well as Dinars, as was our general experience in Jordan.
Very little beer was consumed tonight due to a bout of loose bowels, but after chicken and rice with the usual accompaniments we did manage to consume all the sweets on offer, and over half of us managed to sustain our battle against the smoke until well after 8 pm, a big improvement on last night!
You could spend many days exploring Petra, so our visit was definitely in the ‘taster’ category - nevertheless very worthwhile; it’s a fascinating place.

Tuesday 20 November 2007 - A Camel Ride

Knowing it was a 5 am start (so much for the ‘routine’ I explained yesterday!), we were awake at 4.45! Only as we were getting dressed did it get light. After we’d quickly breakfasted and packed our bags, the camels arrived at camp. 13 out of the 15 of us then had a couple of hours of fun riding around the mountain we were camped next to, about 5 km back to the road. David and Barbara walked beside us but were pretty knackered by the end as the camels’ stride pattern was longer than theirs! The camels came in various sizes and a couple were white. Some of my preconceptions were found to be wrong. None of them spat at us and their breath was no worse than most other animals I’ve come across. They were in fact rather furry and cute! The padded saddles were comfy and had wooden posts to hang onto and hang your rucksack on; the posts were particularly needed when the camel got up or sat down. The morning was cloudy, with a cool wind.
We joined another private bus after reaching the road. This took us to Petra in about 2 hours. A stop to buy fresh (unwashed) dates may in retrospect have been a mistake, but they were recommended by Mahmoud and were indeed delicious.
Next, a Turkish Bath, opened specially for our group, to most effectively remove the accumulation of dirt from Wadi Rum! Phil, Martin and I went in one way, and seven of the women went the other way. We had one masseur and they had three, but first we steamed, initially quite pleasantly, but as the room hotted up we could hardly see beyond the ends of our arms. It was a relief to gain the respite of a cool marble bench before exfoliation with a rough mitt of the type used to clean the average bath. The masseurs proudly showed us all the grime and dead skin they were removing. I’d never before experienced this, but it was really quite pleasant, as was the subsequent soaping, massage front and back, and massaging hair wash.
After a final showering down it was time to be wrapped in towels and re-hydrate with sweet tea in an ante room.
And so to Petra, a dusty place. Mahmoud got us tickets, as always, using the $120 “local currency” we had each given him at the start of the trip. Then just beyond the entrance we enjoyed a picnic lunch before proceeding down the Siq – the narrow gorge that leads to the ancient city built into the rock some 2200 years ago by the Nabataeans. I won’t bore you with the full history here, but as usual Wikipedia has an informative summary.
We continued down the Siq, with the remains of ancient water conduits on either side, and under an impressive collapsed arch. There were carvings of camels being led up and down the Siq, in the rocks of the gorge. Finally, after 1200 metres, we arrived at the stunning highlight of Petra, the Treasury – a 1st Century BC tomb some 43 metres high, carved into the rock.

In its heyday on a main trade route, the city ‘housed’ some 30,000 people, but later changes in trade routes, and devastating earthquakes, led to its gradual decline. The site was unknown to Europeans after the Middle Ages before being discovered by a Swiss traveller in 1812. Beyond the Treasury are a 4000 seat amphitheatre and a recently excavated colonnaded street. Over hundreds of years nearly all the city’s free standing buildings have been destroyed, and flash floods have resulted in the whole area being covered in deep rubble. Archaeologist Mahmoud believes 90% of the remains of the city remain uncovered.
After this brief introduction to Petra we enjoyed a two hour walk, in the company of pigeons and crows, up a side valley to our new camp. The route passed through a narrow defile with the remains of a high wall. This would have been a pedestrian entrance to the city, camel trains entering and exiting via the Siq.
It was good to relax in our spot sheltered from the cool wind after our long and packed day.
We have a long Bedouin tent as a bedroom, and a second tent split half into the kitchen and half into our dining area. The dining area has mats around the edge with mattresses on top, and a fire in the middle – where a huge juniper log burns smokily in a metal drum buried in the sand. This makes our eyes water somewhat, even after creating a ‘window’ using giant needles. Dinner was soup, then rice and very tender lamb, veg, etc, and the usual ‘Greek-style’ sweets with nuts and honey, to conclude.
Sue headed for bed at 7.15 due to the smoke, whilst four of us stuck it out until 8 pm. For some, blankets were welcome tonight.

Monday 19 November 2007 - Blistering Sand at Wadi Rum

The routine for the rest of the week:
Get up at 7 am, breakfast, leave at 8 am, day’s activities, evening meal at 6.30 – 7 pm.
This is TE Lawrence country. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom are nearby but sadly are not on our itinerary. I know very little about Lawrence (no more than is in the above link), but I do associate this area with Tony Howard and Di Taylor, whose many articles in Adventure Travel and other magazines I have enjoyed reading over the years. Interestingly, under their ‘n.o.m.a.d.s.’ (New Opportunities for Mountaineering Adventure and Desert Sports) banner, Tony and Di have produced the flier that Mahmoud handed to us last night. Here’s the map of the area. We are camped just north east of the Alameh Inscriptions at point 7.
We left for our desert walk at 8.15, having been told by Mahmood to wear boots. For me, this was not good, but I’ll report on that ‘gear’ issue next week.
The ancient inscriptions were admired, then we headed across the wide expanse of sand to a narrow canyon to the east of a high summit, Um Ishrin (we are at about 1000 metres, the summits are around 1700 metres). Then back across the wider canyon, past the camp at the northern tip of Anfashieh, before lunch in the shade to the east of that mountain. It was basically a plod through squidgy sand, guided by Mahmoud who strolled ahead like the Pied Piper of Hamlyn. He is bored after a season of doing the same trip. We have been allowed to wear ‘t-shirts and t-trousers’ today (one has to be careful about such things in these parts) and given 30C+ temperatures that’s a good thing.
There are lots of sea onion plants, small lizards, blackbirds (Tristram’s Grackle), Desert Larks, Rose Finches, the black and white Mourning Wheatear, African Rock Martins, Kestrels and Buzzards. I’ve since discovered that Mahmoud didn’t really know about the birds, many of which he referred to as ‘Flycatchers’. Whilst that may be what they do, it is inaccurate nomenclature. I’m really impressed by this account by Duncan Dine, who spotted 147 species of birds on his trip to Jordan in October 2005!
We also came across a selection of beetles, including the curiously long-legged Blaps Beetle. There are apparently several types of scorpion, long-legged gerbils, etc, rarely seen during the day. For those of us who later required nocturnal wanderings, the noises from the desert indicated much activity out there in the moonlight.
From the lunch spot it was a two hour plod north, back past the Inscriptions to reach camp at about 3 pm, giving us our first proper relaxation time of the trip, before dinner under the overhang – pitta bread, tomatoes, cucumber, vegetables, houmous, meat and rice – the fare that became usual for the trip. All this is eaten with a spoon, there being no other cutlery. Sue and I bragged about our ‘folding sporks’, recently acquired for forthcoming backpacking trips.
We walked for about 5 hours today, covering around 10 km.
Sunset wasn’t quite as good as last night’s; the moon was up, and Sue and I enjoyed another deep sleep despite the desert noises (a fox was seen in camp).
This is not a remote place. We are on the edge of the Wadi Rum area, and jeep tracks criss-cross the desert where we have been walking. There are locals out with camels (and accompanying tourists) and more tourists pass nearby in the back of open jeeps on their brief tours before they return to the Fleshpots of Rum Village, for belly dancing and boozing.
We also get beer, at £2 a can.

Sunday 18 November 2007 - The Desert Highway to Wadi Rum

Here’s a map of where we are going on this trip:

We rose to a clear blue sky at 8am and breakfasted with the group in the hotel restaurant, where we met Julie. She is the 15th member of the group and has been working as an anaesthetist in Amman hospitals for a charity for a couple of weeks before coming on this tour. I never cease to be amazed by the generosity of people who donate their valuable free time to charitable activities such as this. Julie is one of two non-British members of the group and hails from Halifax, Nova Scotia.
The rest of the group comprises a mix of Brits, and a Belgian called Barbara, who seems as English as most of us and is married to David.
So we are:
Phreerunner Martin and Sue the Dishy Pharmacist.
Accountant Phil and Sue who works for the YHA.
Building project manager Martin and planner Vicky (or Victoria, as the Explore rep calls her!)
Traveller Julia (the last of the 7 of us who knew each other were going – the 8th (‘Notchy’ Andrew) having had to drop out due to a family bereavement.
Lucinda, who works in the famous RHS Glasshouses at Wisley, and who just happens to know Julia from a previous trip.
Banking accountant David and Barbara from a language recruitment agency.
Terry – a retired nurse, Sally – another accountant, Katie – who renovates houses, and Sandra who is heavily into Law Enforcement but has aspirations to run a ‘beyond youth’ hostel.
And finally, Julie the Canadian doctor.
[If any of the above read this and wish me to edit it, just let me know.]
It’s a happy band of travellers that board our private bus for the 4 hour journey all the way down to Wadi Rum, the furthest south we venture on this trip. Our guide for the week, Mahmoud, has now joined us. He is from an indigenous Bedouin family from Petra, and was born in a cave there. With 9 brothers and 5 sisters, he has just ‘moved house’ and last night had a party in Petra for 150 people. So he’s pretty shattered. He has an archaeology degree and promises to be very informative. His commentary on Jordan, its life and times and towns, starts as we motor through Amman in heavy traffic, passing the Blue Mosque, Parliament Buildings, and the site of a huge new shopping complex. Many new buildings are going up or have been completed. The population of this safe haven in the Middle East is rapidly increasing due to huge numbers of incoming Palestinian and Iraqi refugees, and this brings obvious challenges that the government is keen to address effectively (says Mahmoud).
Amman has been called ‘Casa Blanca’ because of the white buildings of local limestone.
Once out of the city, the land either side of the road is desert. We are on the ‘Desert Highway’ that runs nearly 500 km down to Aqaba by the Red Sea. Alongside us is a section of the 1300 km narrow gauge Hejaz railway line from Damascus in Syria to Medina in Saudi Arabia. This was built between 1900 and 1908 and was intended to lead a further 400 km to Mecca. It was damaged by TE Lawrence’s guerrilla forces during WW1 (The Arab Revolt) and never re-opened beyond the Jordan-Saudi border after the subsequent break-up of the Ottoman Empire. Attempts to re-open the line in the 1960s were foiled by the Six Day War in 1967. Today certain sections of the line are open, including the section beside us from phosphate mines near Ma'an to the Gulf of Aqaba, known now as the "Aqaba Railway."
A phosphate mine bellows white smoke into the blue sky.

After a while we stop for mint tea and try to learn more names of the rest of the group. Canaries squawk in cages.
Then we continue along the highway, which shimmers far into the distance. Trucks plough up and down between Amman and Aqaba. Numerous speed bumps keep our pace down through settlements. We enjoy ice creams at another 10 minute break, then head off on the last leg, descending from around 1700 metres back down to around 1000 metres, with fine views of the mountains of Wadi Rum ahead.
Now the desert areas are sand, not scrub. Entrance tickets for Wadi Rum, a carefully controlled area, are collected from the Visitor Centre, but we don’t leave the bus.
There are two languages in use here – it’s a bit like being in Wales! – Arabic and English. Many, if not most, signs are in both scripts, and virtually all the Jordanians we met (albeit not a very representative cross section) could communicate in English, and seemed happy to do so – they were friendly and welcoming.
10 minutes later we left the bus, transferred our bags to a 4WD and changed into boots for a stroll to nearby rocks in the desert, for lunch. On the way we crossed this branch line, built in the 1980s to serve local mining requirements.

We enjoyed pitta bread with tuna, tomatos, veg, cheese, etc in the shade before heading on to camp, which was an hour’s walk away.
After all the travelling it was great to stretch out, though at a gentle pace due to the heat (32C in the sun, 23C in the shade). The camp is a Bedouin tent, set up exclusively for Explore trips, in which the whole group is to sleep. Meals will be taken on these mattresses under an overhanging rock.
There’s far more space than in an Alpine hut.
A somewhat incongruous brick built toilet with a sink lingers nearby.
After a serving of tea (sugared during production, so we’ll have to get used to that and the lack of milk) some of us climb a huge sand dune next to the camp, then clamber onto abutting rocks for magnificent views over the desert and the rest of the group below.

Sunset at 4.40 was followed by a lovely red sky, by when we had run gleefully down the dune – like scree running but softer and safer and sandier. Then it was back to camp for welcome beers and a relaxing evening eating (meats and rice cooked in an oven dug into the sand, with various salads), chatting and playing daft games around a roaring fire.

Saturday 17 November 2007 (part 2) - Fifteen Hours ‘On the Road’

The Dishy Pharmacist and I usually avoid organised ‘tours’, preferring the unpredictable excitement of organising our own. But when Phil and Sue told us they had booked onto Explore’s ‘Spice Trails of Petra’ tour we were enticed by the itinerary (this link may soon expire) and booked onto it ourselves, together with a few other friends.
For us the journey started in Manchester at 8.30 and was long but largely uneventful:
- “You’ll get sandburn” said the man from Purple Parking.
- Sue and Phil running around the check-in at Heathrow (surprisingly otherwise deserted) having checked in but failed to acquire boarding passes.
- The Heathrow Shopping Experience. Actually a few of us got reading material for the trip – in Phil and Martin’s cases, the same book.
- The 5 hour journey with a rather grumpy Royal Jordanian crew suddenly lengthens by 2 hours as we put our watches forward.
- The Explore rep in Amman smoothly sorts out visas as 14 out of 15 clients gather after the flight (the 15th will join us tomorrow).
- A 45 minute bus ride past fast food joints such as ‘Biggly Wiggly’, as well as more familiar names leads to the Toledo Hotel, where we arrive at 1.15 am and take to our beds.
The photo is a view from room 505.

Saturday 17 November 2007 - Blog Goes on Holiday

Here’s the last Postcard from Sunny Timperley for a week, as sadly my blogging equipment is too bulky to take with me to next week’s exciting destination. So during the following week I’ll slowly catch up with things, and I hope the wait will be worthwhile. So reader (sorry, readers – both of you!), please bear with me until Sunday 25 November, when I should be back at my desk, duly refreshed.
In the meantime you could perhaps visit the time warp that is Ali and Lay’s mountaineering blog. As I write this they appear to be stuck in time on 24 June at the Cabane des Dix near Arolla whilst their vast readership waits in suspense for the next thrilling instalment.
I can also recommend Pam and Paul’s ‘Pacific Rambler’ blog. They started it just before I started this postcard, basically for the same purpose – keeping in touch with home whilst away on a long trip – and they are doing extremely well at reporting back from ‘The Pacific’.
And the list (‘blogroll’ I think is the geek term) to the right of this entry is worth dipping into – Weird Darren always has something to say, and most of the others are pretty active. Have fun!

We have a Prize Winner for the competition announced on 1 November! Paul Filby has correctly guessed that the header picture is a view up Loch Broom, taken from Ullapool. It was actually taken from outside Tigh na Mara during one of our several recent holidays in that excellent cottage, and Paul wasn’t even there, so well done, your bonus prize will reach you in due course. The prizes for guessing the locations of the two footer pictures used to date have not yet been awarded, though I’m pretty sure Paul has visited one of these places, he hasn’t worked it out yet, so be quick!

Friday 16 November 2007 - Altimeter vs Global Positioning System

Recent debate concerning the relative usefulness of these two bits of kit has stimulated two-penneth from me, for what it’s worth.
The Suunto Altimax weighs in at 50 gm and the spare battery is negligible in weight. I have had mine for nearly 4 years and the first battery lasted for 3 years. It’s an excellent watch and a not so effective alarm clock due to the quietness of the alarm. It gives a good indication of altitude but must be reset at frequent intervals. If you don’t do this you can go up a 2000 to 3000 ft mountain and the altimeter will record you as being up to 100 metres above the summit by the time you reach it. So you must compensate for pressure changes by frequently resetting the height at known positions, or be able to carry out complicated calculations in your head given the known change in pressure – information also given by this watch. The thermometer is useful so long as you don’t wear the watch on your wrist (I find it comfortably fits on a belt loop).
The watch gives rates of ascent and descent, and you can set it to provide all sorts of complicated logging of cumulative ascent and descent data. Apart from being tedious to set up the logging (my mind just refuses to memorise the process) the resulting data is unreliable due to the logging taking place at set intervals, and the tendency when stopped for the watch to flip between its 5 metre graduations, thereby increasing both the cumulative ascent and descent totals whilst the wearer rests. Psychologically fantastic perhaps, but factually inaccurate.
Finally, the pressure readings on the watch can be utilised to predict weather, but this is tricky if they are changing anyway due to ascent/descent. It is always worthwhile looking at this reading in the morning before setting off, as falling pressure may indicate the desirability of a lower level route or other precautions.

The Garmin GPS unit weighs in at 200 gm, and two spare AA batteries weigh as much as the Suunto watch.
It’s a wonderful piece of kit if you can work out how to use it. But the batteries only last a few hours, so even on a day walk you need spare batteries if you keep the device turned on all the time.
It has loads of functions, but the small screen can be hard to read.
Unlike the Vector, it has a compass, but it doesn’t have an alarm clock. I’m not going to reiterate its treasure trove of features here, but it does come with a 72 page manual.
So I think the GPS is fine to use and have on all day if that is all one is doing, or where spare batteries or nightly recharges are possible.
Personally I have not yet mastered that constant use of the GPS – I still prefer the comfort of a map and compass, which I can generally rely upon for a precise position. However, the GPS does these days live in my rucksack, with spare batteries, for use in any emergency and for the settling of any positional debate. Even with my sometimes wayward navigation, it rarely comes out.

So whilst the Suunto Altimax is a constant companion on the hill, and is a fantastic aid to contouring over difficult ground, the Garmin GPS is normally just a hidden security blanket. I did take the latter on the TGO Challenge this year, where I was walking alone for days at a time in a remote area, and it was useful for recording the precise positions of my wild camps. I’m glad I only had to use it for that, and I didn’t encounter any of the Military Jamming referred to here.

Thursday 15 November 2007 - Happy Days

Whilst it was as delightful as ever in Timperley today, I thought I would take a break from the local Autumn scenes (they will no doubt be kept in reserve for dull winter days to come) and recall one of many Happy Days from this summer.
The picture is one of my favourites, despite tonight being rejected from the shortlist for our 2008 calendar. If any of my readers doesn’t recognise the fabulous outline of the Tre Cime mountains a few miles north of Cortina d’Ampezzo in northern Italy…you have a treat in store. As they are iconic in stature these three peaks arguably provide better views for non-climbers like us than they do for the brave souls who actually try to get to their summits.
And so it was on 16 July 2007 that the five of us parked up at the end of the toll road by Rifugio Auronzo and headed off to Forcella Lavaredo for what has become a traditional self-timed snap. As usual, the sun beat down and we headed on for drinks and ‘apfelstrudel’ at Rif 3 Cime, with more fabulous views. After taking lunch at a small col just beyond the refuge, Julia left to walk around the neat little mountain named Torre Toblino whilst the rest of us donned our Via Ferrata kits for a more sporting traverse of the 2617 metre summit.
I recall, on my last ascent of the VF delle Scalette route, being hassled by aggressive Germans. But the etiquette this year has been impeccable as we have encountered mainly Brits (very courteous) and Italians (prone to coach parties but not deliberately rude or incompetent). And so it was that the Italian party ahead moved aside to let us pass, and it was a delightful, traffic free ascent to the compact summit. I had the place to myself for 30 minutes before the others (they have a more purist technique that if I employed would result in unnecessary injury) arrived, and then we regrouped to descend via the easier Sentiero del Curato Militare Hosp route, leaving the Italians to enjoy the lovely weather on the summit.
Soon we were reunited with Julia outside the chapel next to Rif 3 Cime. There was a sad note on a scrap of paper next to some dried flowers lamenting the death, yesterday, of Silvano, a young man in his 20s.
We continued our stroll around the iconic mountain that continues to exact its toll on human life, despite no longer being a war zone, following the Alta Via 4 route back to Rif Auronzo, past a herd of cows desperately sipping water from the only small stream to be seen.
Compared with the difficulties and the ecstasy and agony of success and failure on Tre Cime, our day had been easy and relaxing, the only stress arising when the car failed due to having had its lights left on all day. And with power needed to release the electric handbrake, it was fortunate that we quickly located a friendly local with jump leads who happily took a break from supping schnapps!
And so it was that we got back to Cortina before the shops shut, and enjoyed a fabulous al fresco meal back at camp, with the usual cold beers and lovely evening light.
A day to remember – and the photos could fill an album.

Wednesday 14 November 2007 - Worsley Woods

I wisely brought forward today’s evening walk by six hours, so instead of enjoying my own company in the dark, I had a lovely 12 km stroll on a sunny autumn afternoon.
The £3.20 Metro journey to Eccles gets me there in 40 minutes from Timperley, so this really is a fairly local walk. A full description of the route is here, the footnotes from which are reproduced in the Notes below.
The walk starts along urban roads before entering the quiet sunny woodland of the well-named Broadoak Park, where the old railway (see Note 1) heads over the long embankment pictured above, and then through cuttings towards the gathering roar of traffic on the M62. On this occasion the chirpy blackbirds and robins were making a good effort at drowning the unseemly noise, with mallard, goldfinches and other residents helping to maintain the woodland atmosphere.
Then, beyond the tunnel under the motorway, the junction at Roe Green (see Note 2) brings the railway section to an end, in favour of a woodland route past antique cottages, eventually leading to the canal basin at Worsley where the area around the Packet House (see Note 3) would have been a hive of activity 200 years ago. It is still active as a leisure facility, and a pleasure to walk through.
An open section of canal leads back to the urbanity of Monton and Eccles, and a squashed tram journey back home.
The paths were quiet today, but dog walkers, joggers and fishermen were all about, enjoying the peace of the countryside within Greater Manchester. Those who wanted more crowded company were no doubt crammed onto nearby golf courses! (See my 1 October entry.)

Note 1: The former London and North West Railway Company Ltd was officially opened on 1 September 1864, and helped to provide a link between Eccles Junction on the Manchester/Liverpool line and Tyldesley Junction on the main west coast line. The former Monton Green station was opened in 1887 to cater for commuters to Manchester and Liverpool. Traffic included everything from coal, to David Brown tractors from their Leigh factory, to holiday specials to Blackpool.
The line was finally close to all traffic on 5 May 1967 by British Rail.
Since the 1980s the line has been progressively reclaimed and now forms an integral part of the Salford Loopline network of ‘Strategic Recreation Routes’.
Wildlife abounds on the loopline, where the steep sides of the embankment were originally planted with sycamore and beech, since when oak, ash, rowan and birch have joined the party. Dog Rose, Blackthorn, and the Common Blue Butterfly are residents here. Keep your eyes open for kestrels, woodpeckers, yellowhammers and foxes, as well.

Note 2: Roe Green junction is where the Eccles to Wigan (1864) line met the Worsley to Bolton (1870) line. On 28 March 1874 the local paper reported gleefully that…"the long looked for new line between Bolton and Manchester on the London and North Western system will be opened for traffic and will meet a great public requirement by the supply of additional means of railway with the busy cottonopolis.”
[Given my squashed journey home, the modern day analogy is the ‘great public requirement’ for more tram units during busy times, and no doubt an extra lane on the M62 that would further decimate the woods.]

Note 3: The Packet House was built in the late 18th century as separate dwellings, a mock Tudor frontage being added later. From the stone steps in front of the Packet House travellers were collected by the Duke of Bridgewater’s packet boats for journeys to Manchester, Warrington and Runcorn. The golden age of the canal ended with the advent of the railways on the disused lines of which this walk starts. So whilst the canal would have been a hive of activity 200 years ago, whilst today it is more of a recreational zone, it still works and is full of water, whereas the railway lines are long gone…

There are some more photos here.

Tuesday 13 November 2007 - Autumn Gold

Back in Timperley there were strong golden scenes on a morning that started dull and drizzly, so there wasn’t a camera in sight to record the striking scene that the low sun later brought to the party. By the time I got out again this afternoon the best I could manage is this patchwork of leaf litter.

Monday 12 November 2007 - Another Hot Day

Here’s a view of a typical hillside near Madeira’s more populated southern coastline.
Dave and I said our goodbyes today to the Marie Celeste (our commodious accommodation) and to Alan and Christine in the apartment below. Then it was back up to Camacha for a final couple of hours of strolling on the Levada da Serra, before lunching in Camacha’s sunny square next to the monument that declares that the first game of football ever played in Portugal was completed here in 1875. And Madeira still produces footballers – Man Utd’s Ronaldo originates from a (once) poor nearby family.
At around noon we witnessed a flock of pigeons wheeling in circles just like those starlings that Bill Oddie brings out of his video library whenever he can. A surprising and spectacular sight, they eventually split into smaller groups but continued their graceful activity. Maybe they were ‘on manoeuvres’ practicing escapes from the ever present mewing buzzards.
The temperature today was 24C, our hottest day of the week. It has been unseasonably hot and dry even for Madeira at this time of year. A lovely day.
So it was a bit of a shock to get back to a chilly 5C and a cool drizzle in Manchester – I’m sure my readers will appreciate the distress involved! But to be fair, Thomsonfly did their best to stay away by aborting the first attempt to land, Sue was there to meet us, and we have, as Dave exclaimed when he entered our house: “Carpets!”

Sunday 11 November 2007 - The Roof of Madeira, and a TGO Challenge update

Here we are on the highest point in Madeira, Pico Ruivo – 1862 metres, in the company of a woman with nits. In fact we were third up ‘the hill’ today, but still had to succumb to the Bavarian music of some earlier arrivals. Whilst Dave slapped his thighs I went to sleep in the sun. After several November weeks spent on this island the last two days are the first that I can recall when the summits have been entirely free of cloud. A bonus from last night’s visit to a wi-fi hot spot was the BBC weather forecast showing a bright sun over Madeira today. Whilst that didn’t really transpire, it inspired this day out, on which the weather was very good – warm and clear – if blighted by high cloud that made the wonderful views appear rather ‘flat’ on film. [Coastal visibility was apparently very low due to haze, so we were lucky.]
We met about 70 people on the way ‘down’, many of them being guided. The 7 km path from the car park at 1800 metres is more or less entirely paved and for much of its length is also protected by a well maintained wire fence. Nevertheless, freedom from vertigo is a prerequisite for this walk, and the return trip involves ups and downs of over 1000 metres. So it was with some relief that we found the car park café open on our return from the 6 hour walk to Ruivo and back.

That refreshed us for a quick return from 12C at Pico do Ariero to 25C at Monte, where we enjoyed the good path to Curral dos Romeiros, returning via a vertiginous section of the Levada dos Tornos. Then it was back to the Marie Celeste for a quick bath before joining Alan, Chris, Keith and Iris for an excellent meal in Canico, followed by a trip to a pub. Something of a contrast to last night’s excitement with The Lavender Hill Mob.

TGO Challenge News
We are in, so my secret pre-booking of certain accommodation (which we would have used anyway) is a triumph and we are set to start from Glen Shiel after a comfortable night in a bed. Great News!