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!

Saturday 10 November 2007 - A Grand Day Out

After the usual leisurely start (this is a holiday), we drove up to Ribeiro Frio. It wasn’t too cold so we dropped Dave (Billy No Mates) off so that he could walk down the classic Levada do Furado. It was busy, but he enjoyed chatting to himself without anyone to answer back, and even met a few like-minded souls before continuing on to the Pig Farm at Quatro Estrada.
Meanwhile Alan, Christine and I wound our way north in search of a ‘levada’ that Alan was seeking out. It was in fact a steep cobbled path/roadway, and the reason we didn’t find it is a tribute to Alan’s navigational skills.
So after a coffee en route and a walk round Porto Da Cruz, where a lone swimmer headed off slowly but purposefully across the bay, we enjoyed steak sandwiches at the Engine House. The town was then subjected to the ‘Invasion of the Smart Cars’ – at least 40 of them honked their way past on a test drive, presumably for marketing purposes, but amusingly tracked by a conspicuous Mercedes breakdown van. Do Mercedes own Smart? And does every Smart need a breakdown van?
We managed to extricate ourselves for a trip to Calhau, near Sao Jorge, where the coastal path was a little vertiginous for Chris. So we adjourned up to Portela and enjoyed a coffee before a short walk along the ‘E7’ path, which was much more to Chris’s liking and has fine views across to Porto Da Cruz and Eagle Rock.
A call from Billy No Mates interrupted proceedings so we ambled back and picked him up from outside the (very smelly) Pig Farm, all by now anticipating the excitement of a Saturday night in Canico.

Friday 9 November 2007 - Last of the Summer Wine Go Levada Walking

There they are – Foggy, Compo and Clegg, alias Keith, Dave and Alan, all in step, having fun on the Levada do Norte.
Today we were joined by Keith, whose right leg sometimes goes numb on walks due to the artery having been removed to his heart area. And it’s people like Keith, who does have a head for heights, who can really appreciate the levadas, with their minimal ascents and descents. So it was not until the final 50 metre ascent to Cabo Girau that Keith had a problem – he had completely run out of power due to his diabetes, and Compo bravely nursed him to the relative safety of a 580 metre sheer drop to the sea.
Leaving Foggy and Clegg to their expressos at the tourist trap, Compo and Junior (me – junior! a rare event indeed) set off back to regain the levada at the tunnel that leads through the mountain to a new view and a further 2-3 hour walk to Boa Morte, where we found a taxi to reunite us with the Black Bumble Bee (a Mitsubishi Colt) that is our transport for the week.
And so to another fine meal in the Marie Celeste, pictured below.

A feature of levada walking in November is not so much the scenery, which is good but sometimes a bit samey, but the lovely flowers encountered beside the narrow pathways, such as the Agapanthus shown below.

And we can’t possibly overlook the fact that it is a balmy 21-24C here, just right for t-shirts and shorts, light until 6.30pm and generally sunny, so it’s always a most pleasant change from England in November…
And Clegg’s message for the day: ‘There’s no Substitute for a Good Leader, and We Haven’t Got One!’ Hmmm, Clegg (Alan) was wearing trainers today.

Thursday 8 November 2007 - A Day of Four Halves

1. Levada do Canico
Dave and I drove up to Camacha for a third time to enjoy the levada walk down to Assumada which we have both appreciated several times before. The steep 300 metre decent down ancient cobbled pathways is rewarded by a fine walk high above the valley, with seaward views, beside a channel of busy water. More lovely flowers and the delicate leaves of Mimosa trees featured strongly on this delightful two hour stroll.

2. A Technical Hitch
We lunched on sunny steps near the end of the levada before descending to Assumada’s church, our rendezvous point with Alan, who had been texted with the request to meet at 1.10. Also this morning Kate had been texting from the UK: ‘Are you free next Tuesday?’ Answer ‘Yes’. So when a response ‘Can you wait for a bit’ arrived, I assumed it was from Alan. There was a Long Delay, and I finally called Alan. He was waiting for us and the call had been redirected from his UK mobile. I was unaware that he had a Madeira mobile on which he was waiting for our call. The ‘wait’ message had actually been from Kate and had (on closer scrutiny) read ‘Can you wait for bt’ (I am house sitting for a phone line connection saga that is now into its third month!).
It was nearly 3pm by the time a somewhat baffled Alan arrived, armed with a selection of new numbers for input to my phone!

3. Sao Lourenco Peninsula
After collecting the other car from Camacha (now a very familiar journey on which Alan still contrived to manage a u-turn) we went down to the peninsula. This walk contrasts hugely with levada walking and our late arrival gave us the benefit of the low late afternoon sun, shining through hazy cloud onto the volcanic rock. The guide books claim this to be a difficult walk, but Health, Safety and Ecological considerations have resulted in the installation of walkways and fences that eliminate any danger. That’s fine, the views are excellent, and the adrenaline junkies are free to venture elsewhere. We had a lovely two hour walk, turning back shortly before the Casa do Sardinho.
Quite a few people were enjoying this area, whilst we had met none on the earlier levada walk. And no ‘greeting fopas’ today – yesterday we met a couple who greeted us in a broad Scottish accent….’Are you Dutch?’ asked Dave, then later we met an English couple – Dave studied their accents for some time before risking ‘I take it you are from Birmingham?’. The answer was predictable I suppose – ‘County Durham actually’.

4. Dinner in the Executive Suite
Tonight we enjoyed steak and trimmings with Alan and Christine in their finely decked apartment. A lovely evening, at the end of which Alan brought out a selection of Madeiran memorabilia that he has been collecting. Fascinating stuff, but included in the old newspaper extracts is a really interesting piece on the anniversary of the Battle of Culloden, from a time when that battle was ‘within living memory’. More of that on a quiet day sometime.
And to finish, especially as this is supposed to be an outdoorsy sort of blog, a message from Alan, who at the age of 65 is bravely embarking on ‘an enhanced enthusiasm for walking’. He has a fine new pair of Brasher Boots which he finds supremely comfy, so his message is ‘Never Underestimate the Value of a Good Pair of Boots’. And so say all of us!

Wednesday 7 November 2007 - Another Victim

Topwalks Extreme Trips proudly announces that it has another victim to add to the growing list. Readers from the UK should bear in mind that we are now somewhat to the South of your Fair Isle; and here it is H.O.T. hot. Today Dave was expecting one levada route. We drove up to Camacha and set off on the continuation of Levada dos Tornos. Four and a half hours in the Rother guide we are using, that yesterday gave a very conservative timing. But today we endured the Sun and Heat for 5 hours to reach our destination. Dave is pictured there, but it is still 10 km back to Camacha, so plan B (unknown to Dave) kicks in and we complete a two day loop by walking along the Levada da Serra back to Camacha, rather than cheating by using a taxi or bus. On this path the stresses of the day were ameliorated by the chance meeting of a jolly English couple and a long discussion concerning tyres for earth-moving equipment.
Here’s Dave, feeling friskier on Tornos.

And, somewhat fazed by his exertions, Dave still managed to find time to place a deposit on this magnificent structure.

So, Pat, this is your first view of your fourth home – doesn’t it have fantastic potential? Dave’s stamina today, despite his role as a Victim, has surely placed him high on the shortlist for Superhero status! Especially as whilst I’m touring around Canico looking for a Wi-Fi hotspot, he is cooking my tea!

Tuesday 6 November 2007 - Return to the Levadas of Madeira

After a bit of a shock for Dave involving some ‘Chocolate Covered Cornflakes’ – an interesting start to the day – we grabbed Alan from two floors below us and headed up to Camacha. I disappeared for a while into the Café Relogio and the basket factory. The others discovered this only when vetting today’s photos for a suitable blog image! Today’s route took us up to the Levada da Serra, which contours at around 770 metres in a westerly direction through ‘Paradise Valley’ and on for several miles to its abrupt end above Funchal. Here we dropped down a road to about 600 metres, to pick up the Levada dos Tornos for the walk back to Camacha, stopping for lunch en route. Alan, unused to these excursions, had left his lunch at home. What was in his rucksack then?
We continued on to a bar that we failed to walk past. Here some fresh tuna accompanied the now familiar Coral beer. Both the tuna and the beer made Alan much happier. Here it is traditional to leave tips in bars, but there is also a practice of them providing customers with little extras such as nuts or olives or ‘lupin seeds’ – a sort of butterbean, or in this case - fresh tuna. Seems fair enough, but apparently the Brits still rarely leave tips.
Six hours on the trail had made for a good day out, after which we returned via one of the many supermarkets to collect essential supplies (mainly more beer).
The Marie Celeste was then swept out and tidied up, as best we could, whilst we had baths one at a time (one plug for two baths, no shower curtains) before A & C joined us for a pleasant evening with spag bol cooked in a pan with a breakable (it broke) handle, under Hugo’s expertly assembled light fittings (30w bulbs), on his folding (collapsing) chairs.
And then we chose today’s photo – of Dave entering the long tunnel on the Levada dos Tornos. Alan and I walked round because A had no torch, and as Anne and I had discovered on our last visit, the path in this tunnel gets very narrow, so a torch is really quite important.

Monday 5 November 2007 - Mission Accomplished

Well, as you can see from today’s photograph of 'sunshine over Canical', yesterday’s resolution has been achieved by this smug correspondent.
But sadly the wireless connection here is too intermittent to facilitate a timely brag, so I’ll have to seek out a ‘hotter’ spot tomorrow.
Dave and I met Alan and Christine as planned and we all enjoyed a smooth transit to our ‘place in the sun’, where the two of us have the pleasure of occupying Hugo’s huge apartment, which is within earshot of A & C’s second home. It’s a bit like the Marie Celeste here, apart from a resident pigeon, but we are making it more homely and we have fine Atlantic views towards the distant ‘Deserted Isles’.
After an excellent meal – I risked an experiment with ‘Chef’s Octopus’, the others enjoyed pork or Black Scabbard, we adjourned to A & C’s balcony to enjoy a few beers on this balmy evening.
We are nicely stocked up with provisions and looking forward to some exercise tomorrow.

Sunday 4 November 2007 - Fog over Cheshire

Well, yesterday’s weather forecast said today would be sunnier. So we postponed our planned walk to today, when the Yellow Orb would shine brightly. And it probably did, above 500 ft. But where we were it was foggy. Anyway, off we went to Marbury Country Park, where the fog was even thicker. And we walked the 12 km route shown in yesterday’s entry. The autumn colours were wonderful, so far as we could see them through the fog. Even the Anderton Boat Lift was shrouded in mist and appeared inactive. But the ducks, gulls, crows, lapwings, grebes, robins, blackbirds, etc were all chirping away quite happily, free of the stresses of parenthood and still blessed with a plentiful supply of food.


A resolution: I will find somewhere sunnier tomorrow….

Saturday 3 November 2007 - Miscellany

The Villain
Whilst I have to admit to being one of those people who can find Jim Perrin’s TGO magazine contributions a little hard going, the two books of his that I have read, ‘Menlove’ and ‘The Villain’ were a delight. ‘The Villain – The Life of Don Whillans’ has to be a mountaineering classic of the highest order. Anyone with the vaguest of interest in the climbing scene in the north of England and beyond from the 1940s to the late C20 should enjoy and appreciate this book. It is not just about Whillans, but as one of the leading climbers of his era Whillans provides Jim Perrin with the vehicle to describe the climbing scene of which he was himself a member, in fascinating detail. A classic, I think. Unlike Clint Willis’s effort referred to in my 30 October entry, which in my opinion is merely ‘A Good Read’.

TGO Challenge 2008
It has been reported that there are 409 applicants for the 300 places. Sue and I remain optimistic. ‘We have a plan’, as they say.

Last Night
Graham has some fancy new software that converts a digital ‘slide show’ into a multi-media extravaganza. (I'm jealous!) On a recent trip to Stok Kangri and numerous sights of northern India, he took some 2000 images, of which he has converted some 800 into a 4 part presentation. We enjoyed this in the wake of a meal so sumptuous that I have to admit to having a gentle snooze during some parts of the show. Thanks G & T for a great evening, and sorry I fell asleep. We especially enjoyed the video clips, and the accompanying music, of Graham’s attempts at cross country skiing in Norway!

OS Maps
I have Anquet 1:50000 maps for the UK and as a matter of course use them in ‘screen dumps’ on our personal website. For example, here is tomorrow’s route:

Alan Sloman has raised some issues about this type of use of images and the possibility of upsetting the Ordnance Survey. I view the issue with slight concern, but surely the OS wouldn’t be bothered about a few poxy images on a personal website or blog? Or would it?

Friday 2 November 2007 - A Postcard from Timperley

I have been to work today, and have an exciting evening ahead. So this is a genuine ‘Postcard’, of this morning's view from the towpath of the Bridgewater Canal near Timperley Metro Station:

Having a nice time, chatting to the fishermen (just behind me), in the warm autumn sunshine. Wish you were here…

Thursday 1 November 2007 - Bye Bye Bus

It is the end of a minor era. Today I had my last drive in the car that we have enjoyed using for trips over the past three years. It has been to Italy twice and to Scotland and other parts of the UK many times. It even transported WD to Stirling on his fateful trip last May (sorry about the reminder, Darren!) But circumstances change. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing; it just seemed pointless to have this vehicle sitting on our driveway ‘spewing tenners out of its sun roof’ (as Andrew so eloquently puts it), when we are away on trips and the asset could be earning money in a bank. Or, more likely, be used to fund some nice trips!
So I took it part way to Newmarket where I hope it enjoys its new life with Mark and his family.

Postcard from Timperley – the experiment continues.
Well, it’s an indulgence really, but I’m enjoying this experiment and will continue with it for another month. Statcounter tells me I’ve had 400 visitors. Sue says she made three of those visits, and she approves of the project. However, today she forcibly rejected my proposal to change the header photo on a monthly basis. And as other friends have also expressed a liking for that image, I think I’ll let it be for now. However, no one really notices the footer, so I’ve replaced that. The old one is shown here:

There’s a small prize each month for the first person who identifies where each footer picture was taken, and a bonus for identification of the header. Best of luck. And I hope you all have an enjoyable November, if that is possible…

Wednesday 31 October 2007 - A Dental Problem, and a Via Ferrata

I have a sweet tooth. I have always had a sweet tooth. This has led to most of my teeth having been filled, and those fillings become old and disintegrate.
That happened to one of them this week, so as usual I called the dental practice at 9 o clock. As usual, the phone was answered quickly, and the receptionist asked if I could come straight away before realising it would take me 15 minutes to get there. So we settled for a couple of hours later and my tooth was repaired in the usual efficient manner. Thank you dentist Sue and the efficient team at Stretford Road Dental Practice. Nuff said.

And so to Via Ferrata Ettore Bovero.
I was able to brighten this grey November day by sorting through some photos from earlier in the year. On July 17 we spent a fine day on this Via Ferrata, which leads directly to the summit of Col Rosa, a fairly small but pointy hill just west of Cortina. The above photo was taken this year, but it seems a shame not to reprint Nick’s eloquent report of his effort (and it was an effort) in getting up this route back in 2001:

Ettore’s ‘e’ grade – travelling the Via Ettore Bovero on Saturday 21st July 2001
It wasn’t how I’d planned to spend my last day in the Dolomites. I stalked around silently with my own thoughts as I thought of the challenges ahead. I’d rather fancied a stroll around the plateau of Monte Piana, and the thought of an ‘e’ grade via ferrata with its vertiginous drops was perhaps more than I could stand. But as I lay in my tent thinking of the day ahead, I visualised how I would feel on the top having completed the ‘walk’ and decided it was better to try this than walk off on my own.
The day dawned bright and clear – the kind of weather we’d prayed for all week, but I couldn’t eat much breakfast at the thought of the rigours ahead. Linda had already told us that everyone feels nervous before a new climb – and the threshold at which you feel it gradually changes. Mine was about to be increased.
Parking at Camping Olympia (alt. 1300m) was the easy part – not much negotiation was required to be allowed to park all day in front of the No Parking signs. We set off through the shady woods, my pack all the heavier with the rope that I had insisted we take – ‘just in case’.
I knew it was a big climb up to the Passo Posporpora. After all, we’d descended from there into Cortina only a couple of days earlier, but the easy gradient and the multitude of zigzags made it a steady plod. Not quite enjoyable, but bearable – even with six days of walking in our stiffening legs. Pausing at one point in the shade for a sip of water, I wondered whether my dented litre Sigg bottle would really be enough for such a hot day as this.
We paused at the col (alt. 1730m) to look for the mouse we’d seen earlier, but despite (or perhaps because of) copious poking about with Martin’s stick our little brown friend failed to surface. Now began the real climb up to the start of the via ferrata at around 1900m. This path was much rougher than the gentle amble up to the col – and even the lower stretches were not for the faint-hearted, being somewhat exposed. I asked 'why the pause' at a particularly dodgy section – ‘to look at the beautiful view’ was the reply. It was, but I wasn’t in the mood. A little higher we scrambled on to a rather wider ledge. I felt confident enough to take out my camera for a few wide-angle shots way up the valley of the Rio Travenanzes towards Tofana and Falzarego.
Onwards and upwards, the waymarks now taking on more of a climbing feel, with red arrows pointing around corners and upwards. There were a few awkward moments – luckily for me Linda just in front was able to point out some easy handholds that made the route finding easier. Martin, a little further behind, paused for a rest at this point. (Actually, he stopped because he was stuck! – Ed)
It was a relief to finally reach the bottom of the route. The wires snaked up the white rock into the brilliant blue sky. We climbed into our harnesses. Linda proffered some nuts which I had difficulty swallowing. But it looked do-able which was good – I had pictured in my mind some vertical blank wall.
Rupert led from the front, followed by me and then Martin. I pulled up the first part, hearing words to take small steps but ignoring them in my anxiety to get up. Much of the route up was completed in a daze. I looked out at the view with incredulity – not believing I was there. The worst part was always unclipping at the end of a wire while walking over ‘easy’ ground. I rushed for the next wire to make me ‘safe’. Rupert offered quiet words of encouragement. I wished I dared take out my camera to record the moment. Rupert took shots downwards where I dared not look. Then came a moment I couldn’t believe.
Just up ahead the wire disappeared horizontally around a corner. But where to put my feet? Rupert suggested I go ahead so he could take my picture – but even this opportunity failed to encourage me. Instead we had to execute a rather tricky manoeuvre on a very tight ledge. I was shown the controls on the camera, but all I could do was hold on tightly to the wire. I dared to let go with one hand as Rupert swung out onto the wire. One-handed picture with much camera shake, while Martin waited just below with his nose pressed to the rock. Moving around the corner was easier than expected, so we were soon on some easier ground below the summit rocks. There was a call for lunch but Martin, I suspect like me, wanted to be on the top. There were then several sets of ‘stempels’ – big iron staples drilled into the rocks, before I finally saw the small wooden summit cross ahead to my right.
‘YESSSS!!!’
It was just as I visualised. We relaxed on the summit at 2166m, enjoying our lunch and taking in the wide-ranging views as the sun baked us. Many summit photos.
Then off down the long walk back. The conversation was light-hearted – and we laughed as one of our fellow ‘mountaineers’ skipped past with a video camera slung over his shoulder as his only equipment! Much more in the way of war remains on the way down. Chris made a fine model poking his head out of a tunnel window 50 feet above us. And Sue made a fine sunshade with my hat so I could record the moment.
The rest of the journey down was uneventful, save for a rather ungainly scramble down a tree trunk, and some sarcastic comments from some Germans who looked rather disdainfully at our rope.
Ice creams were only noteworthy by their obvious absence at the entrance to Camping Olympia, so instead we returned to Cortina for a welcome beer.
The day finished in style with a communal meal of highlights and leftovers from the week: seafood pasta, sausages – expertly cooked by Chris and Rupert – with a very large salad, a lovely Barolo wine, and yoghurt with strawberry jam to round things off. And no rain.
In the middle of all this, Linda helped a small German child go to the toilet.
Nick Gray - 23rd July 2001

Tuesday 30 October 2007 - The Bonington Boys

The gear shop I mentioned yesterday as having latterly been occupied by Nevisport was, as I said, once a fine retail outlet. It must be about 30 years since Nick Estcourt opened it, in the days when despite Bonington having moved to the Lake District, this area was a focal point of the British Mountaineering Scene.
The demise of the shop turned my mind to a book I recently read, written by an American, Clint Willis, and entitled “The Boys of Everest”. It relates the exploits of a small band of Mountaineers over the period from 1958 to 1985, covering many Himalayan and other successes achieved by a group of climbers of which Chris Bonington became the natural leader. Sadly, the mountaineering accomplishments of these ‘Bonington Boys’ were often tempered by the cost in lives of achieving them. And so it was with perhaps Bonington’s closest of friends, Nick Estcourt, who was swept away by an avalanche on K2 in 1978, shortly after opening his climbing shop. Nick’s wife ran the shop for many years after his death, but it wasn’t until Nevisport got their hands on it that it slipped into the decline that proved terminal a few weeks ago.
Willis crams quite a lot into his 500 page book, many of the climbs and expeditions distilled into this tome being the subject of several books in their own right. I enjoyed it despite being uncomfortable with the style and with Willis’s conjecture as to the last thoughts of the numerous ‘late’ members of the cast.

Monday 29 October 2007 - “It’s Been Emotional”

Firstly, I forgot yesterday to thank the good people of Alderley Edge, particularly the residents of Marlborough Avenue, for their generosity in leaving a fine selection of both eating and cooking apples, Ripe For Scrumping from their green and pleasant land. We will enjoy them this week, as we did after our previous visit three weeks ago.

We had two local gear shops, three if you include the Rohan clothing emporium.
One of these, Millets, has become my first port of call for the routine odds and ends of outdoors gear that occasionally require replacement or replenishment. I have come to accept from the helpful staff that whilst they would love to be able to stock the state of the art gear that the wealthy residents of North Cheshire may be able to afford, that privilege goes to their sister store, Blacks, in Manchester.
So having routinely established that what I really want is (for reasons the staff regret) not stocked by Millets, I revert around the corner to what used to be a fine retail outlet. Sadly, this outlet has in recent years been trading under the Nevisport banner. Now I know Nevisport has an excellent store in Fort William. But I have always struggled in their Altrincham branch, where the staff have seemed keener to keep their heads down on admin tasks than on trying to sell anything from their dingy and poorly stocked surroundings.
For example, they are nominally our local Rab stockist, but in practice they have refused to supply any Rab item without payment in advance - not much use when you want to try something for fit. (But possibly a credit to Rab’s credit control department.)
I concluded long ago that unless it had a hidden value, this outlet was a pointless acquisition for Nevisport and would help to bring them down. So it was no surprise when today I passed the shop to find it boarded up with a simple note in the window: “Thanks to all our customers. It’s been emotional.” It seems Nevisport has gone bust and that the best bits have been sold to someone called Trespass. See Cameron’s TGO blog for more information. Naturally, our local store has been permanently closed. I’m not too dismayed at missing the final sell off of stock, as I’m pretty sure they didn’t have anything I needed!
It’s nice of the staff to thank their customers, and I wish them well for the future despite my own experiences of their apparent lackadaisical attitude.
I just hope that the Millets store survives and that someone in the Blacks hierarchy spots the opportunity to improve its range of stock and take advantage of being the only outdoors store in town.