As 1970 drew to a close the year ahead really did seem filled with promise. Alex was expecting another baby, although I was still very vague about where it was coming from. She had also moved into a terraced house in Weston. As Mother didn’t drive and Dad’s Hillman car had been sold, being so much nearer made it far easier to visit her. Although there were limited buses this was exactly what we did on Boxing Day. For some reason Pappy didn’t come with us but he and Alex never did see eye to eye. Continue reading Memories of the early 70’s – change, fear and injustice
Of course we couldn’t stay in the warm pub forever. We lingered as long as we could, sipping our coffee slowly and letting the warmth seep back into our cold bones. When we could put it off no longer we bundled ourselves up in our warm coats and hats and stepped back into the frozen world outside. After the warmth of the fire it seemed colder than ever. Continue reading Snowmen and spring flowers
“I’m not walking up Woodmill Lane,” CJ said, once I’d presented him with all the options.
He had a point, even without snow it’s a steep and seemingly unending climb to the Castle at Midanbury and an even steeper descent on the other side. Despite the cold, he didn’t want to turn back yet either though so we crossed the road and kept going along the river. Continue reading Frozen bridges, frozen feet
Today I was supposed to be tailwalking the Eastleigh 10k. With the bitter cold and unending rain of the last few days it wasn’t a prospect I was relishing. Tailwalking is usually a slow business and the current weather demands a fast pace to keep warm. As it was, the weather decided to intervene. A few flakes of snow began to fall as we left parkrun yesterday morning. While we were enjoying our post parkrun coffee in the Bellemoor a message came through to say the race was cancelled. It was something of a relief. By the time we left the pub it was snowing in earnest and, by this morning, it was clear cancelling the race had been a smart move. Continue reading When winter and spring collide
Instead of melting away as we’d expected, the snow kept on falling. All day and all night it fell. By morning the decking and garden were covered in a thick layer of white and it was still snowing sporadically. My mission for the day was to take a parcel to the post office and maybe take a walk down to the river. With my yaktrax on and so many clothes I could barely move my arms, I set off. Continue reading More snow and a fruitless trip to the village
In the battle between parks and walls the walls won. The snow seemed to be getting harder so staying close to nice warm shops and cafes seemed the sensible thing to do. The precinct was almost deserted. All the really sensible people were probably in WestQuay enjoying the warm and dry. We walked past and headed straight for Bargate. There was less snow than I’d hoped but the medieval gateway stood on an island of white with flurries of fat flakes fluttering all around it. Continue reading A snowy walk of the walls
Just when it felt like spring was yawning, stretching and preparing to throw off the winter covers, the weatherman said a big snow storm was blowing in from Russia. I frantically searched the house for my yaktrax and thought about where I could go walking in it. Ok, maybe I have issues, but we don’t get snow very often here on the south coast. My inner cyclic said it would probably come to nothing. The Met Office are fond of making snow mountains out of a few flakes. Continue reading The beast from the east
Walking a mountain trail, even an easy one like the Panorama Trail, it is wise not to underestimate the weather. When the snow began to fall we left the breathtaking views and headed back along the trail, unsure if this was just a snow shower or something more worrying. The cloud we’d seen earlier looked to have a whole load of snow to dump and being underneath it when it did didn’t seem the best of plans. Not on the edge of a mountain anyway. Continue reading From the sky to the sea
Our brief stop at Porteau Cove had showed me beauty beyond my wildest dreams. Now we all agreed it was time for lunch. Jen and Kevin knew just the place, The Howe Sound Brewing Company in Squamish, a one time hop Farm turned micro brewery. The rustic atmosphere ticked all the right boxes and the food was perfect. According to Commando, so was the beer, although it took him a while to choose. Replete and happy we found our way back onto Highway 99 and headed from the sea to the sky. Pretty soon we were looking up at the Sea to Sky Gondola and, behind the low wooden building, the tumbling water of Shannon Falls, the third highest waterfall in British Columbia. I had the feeling my dreams were going to get a lot wilder before the day was out.
Our time in Iceland was coming to a close. We hadn’t got back from our aurora watching adventure until the early hours of the morning and it was tempting to sleep in and have a late breakfast. The lure of one more run and walk in the snow was stronger though. Bleary eyed we stepped out of the hotel into the icy air. In any other country this would have been the crack of dawn. In Iceland though daybreak was still four hours or so away. Continue reading The last Icelandic saga