We enjoyed a lovely day, with a walk by the Bridgewater Canal, a fine meal, and an enjoyable session with a pile of pressies next to the tree.....before sinking into oblivion.
Lunch?
Grandma was there as well, but seems to have escaped from the viewfinder...
But today the sun was shining, the rendezvous at Twinnies Bridge was 11.30, and a finish in time to return home for lunch was promised.
A very small van that was dispensing 'real' coffee in the small car park, together with a ritual doling out of chocolate caramel shortbread, provided sustenance before we headed off through the National Trust woodland towards Styal Mill, closed today, but picturesque with the winter sun bathing the old mill's bricks with a soft glow.
A little circuit in Styal Country Park, beyond the mill, was sufficient for today, before returning via the mill car park and the field paths above the woodland.
Dogs gossiped.
Humans gossiped.
"What is going on?" chorused the three stooges.
We were heading deep into the woods, following the cleft wrought by the River Bollin. Who would have thought that jumbo jets were landing just a few metres away from this spot! 
We eventually emerged from the woods to enjoy the easy walk across fields and back to Twinnies Bridge in good time to return home for lunch.
Seasons Greetings from Timperley to all our readers and correspondents.
With our Best Wishes for a Happy and Active 2009
from Sue and Martin
Not because we've been away. We've just been under the weather and busy with a variety of things of absolutely no interest to our readers. During one of our jobs - sorting the vast 'tray' of 1500 emails that has accumulated since our New Zealand trip, many months ago, I've come across a few items that are far more enticing than 'December in Timperley'.
For example, one of our new friends from the TGO Challenge - 'The Eccentric Austrian' ('Eccentric' covers a multitude of characteristics that only readers of our TGO Challenge report will appreciate), Markus, reported as follows on one of his subsequent activities:
"At the end of July we undertook a three day biking trip across some great mountains in the Swiss Engadine. A walker's and biker's paradise. We´ll come across some sections of this superb tour again on our Transalp ride. Please, find some photos of this trip in the attachment."
The Engadine may present Sue and me with a bit of a problem regarding our ongoing 'Italian Border Route' walk. We will reach the area in 2009 or 2010, but the 'ethic' of our route is that it stays mainly in Italy. We may therefore be missing this superb area of Switzerland that we not yet visited. That's despite my having been the proud owner of 'Walks in the Engadine' by Kev Reynolds, since 1991!
Perhaps a circular walk will have to be devised.
Markus and his friends clearly enjoyed their bike ride. The trail shown at the head of this posting looks (if they weren't walking! - do we have an Austrian wimp?) fairly challenging, and the images below give the impression of high level fun. The track pictured above looks to me to be similar to Sentiero Orsi that links the Tuckett and Pedrotti huts in the Brenta Dolomites - the path nicknamed 'The Lower Cycle Track'.
Anyway, this has added a little brightness to a dull Saturday afternoon in Timperley. Thank you Markus - I hope you don't mind me using your pictures, and I look forward to hearing more about the 'Transalp' ride (I've admired again the images you kindly sent, and I may be tempted to reproduce them if you can provide a short report...) 
Here the occupants of a fleet of vehicles that had arrived from places as far flung as Louth and Crosby were milling around exchanging Christmas cards and noshing Nallo Lady's chocolate caramel shortbread.
Graham and Tove - who had just about the shortest journey - were inexplicably missing, so we paused briefly before setting off without them on a dull, overcast day. Thankfully it was dry and calm, so not at all bad for this sociable outing.
Litton Mill has now been renovated and after years of looking derelict it now appears occupied and presentable, despite a large piece of plant still lingering outside.
Beyond here Andrew's gloomy prediction of a flooded path at Cressbrook seemed to come true when we met another group returning along the path, shaking their heads despondently. So we decided not to join the ducks, and headed along the alternative higher path to Cressbrook, where another mill has been converted into apartments. These have a much better outlook than those at Litton. There's a café here, but today it looked shut for the winter. The path was indeed a bit flooded, but it looked quite navigable for those with decent boots.
It's many years since I had seen so much water here, but I suppose it did rain yesterday. Anyway, we were soon up on the old railway line that to Ruskin's dismay* provided a link between Buxton and Bakewell. I recall the days before the tunnels hereabouts were blocked - they were fun to walk through, and perhaps that's why we didn't notice the flooded river in those days!
It took us less than an hour and a half to reach the sanctity of the Longstone Restaurant at Monsal Head Hotel by soon after noon. Sue and Phil were waiting, shivering in the cold air, both suffering from ailments that had confined them to bed for the morning. We installed ourselves at the two long tables prepared by the staff. Three people were missing, but their food had been ordered and was being cooked, so Ken (who had turned up 'on spec') was faced with the decision as to which of the three meals he should eat, and the rest of us were anticipating a share of the other two.
Drinks were ordered and crackers were pulled as our leisurely lunch commenced. The door burst open and a red-faced, puffed out, soggy duo entered the fray and claimed their places at the table. Graham and Tove had got lost on their short journey to the departure point. This used to happen a lot when Graham had affairs with a string of Marilyns, but after carousing with 1524 of these ladies to date, he seems to have run out of girls with that name in England and has moved on to bagging Norwegian Toves. Fearful of missing their meals, the soggy pair had waded through the flooded river at Cressbrook, so as I thought - it wasn't really all that bad despite Andrew's woeful prediction.
[This won't stop Andrew, still grumpy from nearly witnessing recent horrific events at the City of Manchester Stadium, asserting that he was right and I was wrong!]
The food and service was excellent and we enjoyed the best part of 2½ hours in the warmth of the restaurant. Some water pistols discovered in the crackers provided entertainment for the more intellectually challenged within this diverse group. It had been a good turnout of 19 for the traditional Christmasy get together.
Anyway, by the time we left at around 2.30, with Sue and Phil adjourning to their sick bed and Graham and Tove now in tow, the light was already beginning to fade. But not enough to prevent a group photo by the weir in Monsal Dale (see above).
Ambling back to Tideswell via Brushfield was fairly intuitive, and the closest we got to viewing a map today was the minute screen on Paul's flashy GPS enabled mobile phone. (I'm only jealous!)
Even that was not needed though, and despite a pause for tea, etc in High Dale, we managed to get back to the cars (except Graham and Tove - they are still looking for theirs as far as we know) before 5 pm, without the need for torches, which only a couple of us had with us anyway....
So ended an excellent and most sociable little excursion. Thank you everyone for coming, thank you for paying for your food, etc so efficiently, apologies for any minor errors in the above account (feel free to comment), and we hope to see you all again soon, after all your various Christmas trips to Kilimanjaro, Ayres Rock, Liverpool Bay, Bonsall, and a few more mundane destinations....
Here's a short slideshow - just 15 images from this overcast day. Thank you to Jenny for providing most of them.
Shown below is an overview of the route - about 14 km with 700 metres ascent, and strolled on this day in less than 4 hours at a very amiable pace.
As last year, there was a nip in the air and the icy paths were frosted over, with a sprinkling of last week's unmelted snow to add to the mix. Perhaps we missed an opportunity to test our crampons, but we managed to slither our way up and down the hill without any real difficulties.
You can see from the summit photo that we were well wrapped up. As we lingered here a headlamp bobbed below us. We weren't the only people up here tonight (as is quite often the case) - a lone and uncommunicative man was making his way up in a world of his own. Whilst we were ambling along taking in the wide views under a bright moon (torches were completely superfluous), this chap was content to rush along in the comfort of his own bright pool of light, the red stub of a fag dangling by his side. We let him pass, dazzled briefly by his unnecessary floodlight, before resuming our admiration of the view to Macclesfield, and Manchester beyond that.
It really doesn't seem like 12 months since we last enjoyed this outing!
This Via Ferrata has the longest ferrata bridge in the Dolomites.
The route starts at Rifugio Lorenzi at around 2900 metres after a long lift from Rio Gere.
Join us in the area in 2009!
Today Sue and I managed to escape from our sick beds (well, Sue has 'flu, I just have a bit of a cold) to join Julia after her annual trip to the Backpackers Club's Christmas celebrations based at Biggin, where they rent the village hall every year at about this time.
The winter sun was warm in the clear still air, but the path of the old railway remained frosty, firm and deserted.
After a while (and a judicious CCS/flapjack/tea break in the sun) we descended steeply to join the infant River Dove at Fishpond Bank in Wolfscote Dale. Thick hoar frost in this deep cleft hadn't yet been touched by the sun's rays.
Surprisingly, we did move in and out of the sun as we progressed up the dale, with people around now, but incredibly few considering it was an immaculate day in one of the most popular parts of the Peak District!
A kingfisher flew purposefully past, its back gleaming brightly, and a couple of herons sunned themselves lazily whilst a platoon of mallards floated gregariously, trying to avoid a bevy of dogs that were intent on a swim.
Hounds howled in the distance (on the near line of hills to the right) as we enjoyed lunch on a sunny bank with a fine view west towards Hulme End.
Passing through the pretty village of Hartington, we managed to dodge the hostelries (though the slide show does portray these and much more) and walk past this magnificent manor house, dating from 1611, where a bed for the night still costs only £15.
For a fuller photographic record of today's amble - just over 30 images - click here.
Here's a rough outline of our route - 16 km (10 miles) with about 600 metres of ascent. It took us around 4½ hours including stops.
Memories of summer (an aside)
Aktoman's blog is a source of frequent amusement. I have an affinity for Duncan (Aktoman) as I probably copied his idea of naming his blogging identity after a tent. I therefore feel obliged to share with you this offering from Duncan, should you not already have seen it.
A 22 km (14 mile) circuit from Llangurig in mid-Wales
Today's stroll was triggered by an 'I need to go for a walk' message from John last week. So we rendezvoused in Llangurig, roughly half way between Timperley (Manchester) and Whitland (Pembroke), on a frosty morning, for a circuit over rolling hills and through planted forests on this 'blank on the map' for both of us.
A track sporting a dusting of snow (above) rose from Llangurig, past a sheep farm with objectionably smelly feed, up Pant-gwyn Hill.
We paused to admire a stand of Scots Pine, where the reflected sun and the ground cover had thawed any snow that had stuck hereabouts.
The path faded as we rose to a small summit at 512 metres, before plunging into forest along a marked path that drew us south west to emerge after a while above an expansive view towards the mid-Wales coast.
I acknowledge that such projects may be necessary to supply water to the cities, but why they should be accompanied by draconian restrictions on harmless activities like (responsible) camping?
Turning immediately away from the road, we headed over Craig Lluest. Only a short step on the map, but steeply up to a zone of deep tussocks...
Beyond the tussocks a frozen flooded track led back into the forest, much of which had been felled since our maps had been surveyed. Silent windmills under the clear blue sky seemed to have been planted in place of the felled trees.
By early afternoon the low sun was already casting long shadows.
Beyond Nanty we met this friendly donkey with a very thick fluffy coat. He took quite a shine to John and bawled in distress when we escaped from his field.
Our route took us past farms strewn with unkempt agricultural debris, and beside the infant River Wye that the local farmers have despoiled with their rubbish. A new walking route, the Wye Valley Walk, was apparent here. Luckily, the marsh over which it passes was well frozen today, but normally it could be a very wet experience. Interestingly, the route cunningly avoids the public footpaths through farmyards and keeps its distance from habitation where possible.
It was calm, and the river views, away from the debris, were fine.
We'd been moving slowly. John was not at his most lively, being stricken with grief following his wife Alison's death last month after a long illness. So instead of a final hour in poor light on the south side of the Wye on the Wye Valley Walk, we opted for a half hour stroll back to Llangurig beside the A44, which was mercifully free of traffic.
There's a fuller photographic record of this walk, viewable as a slideshow of 26 images - here.
Here's an outline of the 22 km route, which involves 700 metres of ascent and took us just under 7 hours, including breaks of well over an hour.
Today I used the Hi-Tec Altitude Ultra boots given to me by Darren on Saturday. First time worn outdoors, with trainers in my day sac in anticipation of 'rubbing' problems (new boots often irritate tendons in my ankles).
Were they comfy? Well, I noticed that they were still on my feet at 8 pm after a 3½ hour drive home (thanks in part to some idiots failing in their game of dodgems on the M56 motorway).
So, yes they were comfy. Very comfy.
Returning to my entry on 21 November following the June Tabor concert, I hope you enjoyed the video - 'The Band Played Waltzing Matilda'.
Another of my favourites from her Anthology album is 'The King of Rome', a true story about a racing pigeon that for some reason never fails to bring a tear to my eye. I've not found a version by June on u-tube, but here's a version by Dave Sudbury that I hope some of you may enjoy.
The moorhens and mallards seemed to have the conditions pretty well sussed, but weren't their feet cold?
Winter has most certainly arrived - the weekend's icy weather seems to have persuaded the remaining leaves to drop from our deciduous trees.
Afterthought: 
I thought I was imagining it, but Louise really does seem to have a rather shapely stained glass window at her bow!
The Dishy Pharmacist (aka Nallo Lady) and I headed up the A1 from Cambridge, via an overnight sojourn in Mansfield, to reach Sherwood Forest on a typically cold morning. On arrival we stumbled along, heavily laden with projection equipment, to villa 758 after our usual wrestling match with the giant, but full, car park.
Having arrived earlier than usual, we enjoyed a second breakfast before heading off on a day of activity - to the squash court, followed by badminton, table tennis, snooker, spinning (cycling) for some, and rallying for Stuart and Chris, before most of us adjourned to the swimming pool for a break before dinner. Somewhere in the middle of all this, Peg and Lyn served a sumptuous lunch back at the villa. 
It was cold. Below freezing point. We were somewhat bemused by Rob's decision to book an outdoor tennis court at 5.30, but it had been paid for, so, after a bit of difficulty with the faintish overhead lights, five of us enjoyed an hour of trying to impersonate Andy Murray. It was surprisingly good fun. We only had three balls, so the rotating ball boy roll gave as much exercise as the actual playing of the game. Here we are - Sue is wearing a down jacket, gloves and hat, but despite other ailments as well, she still managed to outplay the rest of us!
The traditional slide show followed, with our 'Italian Border Route' images being presented for the second time this weekend, followed by our 'New Zealand' show.
This lot have stamina, having in the past got through Stuart's epic showing of the 1300 images from his historic World Tour.
Well done everyone, we really enjoyed our day with you all.
There was even an interlude for some self-timed photos before we headed off:
This splendid lunch in Cambridge was kindly organised by Darren and Alan. It proved to be a very sociable and enjoyable few hours.
Here we are in Don Pasquale's after the excitement of the raffle draw, in which nearly everyone was a winner, supping our last dregs of coffee and trying not to choke on surreptitious mouthfuls of Nallo Lady's specially manufactured CCS.
From the bottom left:
Darren's sylph-like figure has just crept into shot;
you can't miss George;
Keith (how sad!) is an avid reader of the authors before you;
Baz is (almost) still waiting for his main course following a 'kitchen glitch;
Nallo Lady is no doubt providing professional advice to
Phil, who after the recent removal of certain body parts is wondering whether he should have brought spare nappies;
Alan is ecstatic about his new work project;
Mick and Gayle are relieved that Mick's new work project only lasts six months,
and Martin is trying hard to escape the headlights of the camera and return to his newly won cookery book.
Interestingly, nine of the bloggers present have applied to take part in next year's TGO Challenge. Only George has failed to get in at this stage. He has a long wait to see whether, with a reserve position of 100+, he will be allowed to take part at (very) short notice.
After a brief alcohol free pause, we adjourned to the Eagle, where Darren contemplated some secrets of stove design whilst languishing under a plaque commemorating the achievements of Francis Crick and James Watson at the spot where Crick interrupted the patrons' lunchtime on 28 February 1953 to announce that they had "discovered the secret of life" after they had come up with their proposal for the structure of DNA.
The Eagle retains its so-called RAF bar with graffiti of World War II airmen scrawled in various places around the place.
Sue and I found time to enjoy some nearby galleries (very nice they were, too), though fog obscured the views and precluded any meaningful snapping.
Somehow three cars managed to stay in convoy to get back to Alan's house for an impromptu showing of our 'Italian Border Route' slide show to a few 'hard core' members of this select band. We hope everyone enjoyed it, despite a couple of drooping eyelids.
Thank you for your kind comments, Darren.
Thank you also for the Hi-Tec boots that I came away with - very fortuitous that the size 10s intended for Alan were actually US size 10. Alan is of course English, in whose language these boots are size 9. My size! They fitted me, if not very comfortably. But since getting home I've worn them around the house, using proper socks, and they are very comfy, so I'm looking forward to testing them and will report back in full for Hi-Tec's benefit, or not!
