C2C once more 3

It is day two on our walk. Today, Kat and I are walking from Orton to Kirkby Stephen, whereas A&A are leaving us after breakfast. The sun is shining and it's getting hot. We visit a stone circle. A man on horseback makes us aware of a young raven nearby. There are a lot more prehistoric and more contemporary sites to see today, the Severals Village settlement, the Giants' Graves, the Smardale Gills Viaduct. We also cross the first moors and are stopped by a gang of bossy cattle on the fields  that won't let us through.

In Kirkby Stephen we are staying in a hostel in a converted church. I'm tired of pub food, so we get ingredients for a salad from the small shop across the road. The other hostel guests go to the pub, but we take it easy, read our books and drink tea. Nice.

Wildlife

Longstone (where I live) is a jungle!

I keep running into my local badger when I cycle home at night, and the canal path is full of foxes, and earlier at night, rats.

And this morning, John was about to leave the flat when a magpie hopped down the stairs, past him, followed by our neighbour from upstairs who said that this was the third time this week he had to see a magpie out.

North Berwick to Dunbar

I did another long walk yesterday. The stretch between North Berwick and Dunbar is the final section of the John Muir Way - and the only one I have walked to far. And conveniently, both towns can be reached by train.

John Muir Way

North Berwick is a seaside town 25 miles northeast of Edinburgh. It sits beneath a hill, North Berwick Law, which was formed by a volcanic plug and then shaped by time and Ice Age. North Berwick Law stands out in the otherwise flat area and can easily be spotted from as far as the Pentlands or Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh. In fact, I climbed it once with my friend Colin. It looks quite tall from afar, but we were up and down in an hour and spent the rest of the day on the beach. 

I left North Berwick at 10.30 am and followed the well-signed route south, past North Berwick Law. The route desription on walkhighlands.co.uk (*click*) said that East Linton would make a good stop for lunch. The walking was flat, I saw few people, most of them with dogs. It was quite a long walk to East Linton, maybe 7 miles (10 km), and by the time I got there I was quite hungry.

The pretty town centre had a couple of delis - both closed - but no cafe or tearoom. I passed a co-op supermarket, but I was really after a hot drink and some soup. I started to wonder if the walk description maybe suggested I should have my packed lunch here rather than talking about dining options in East Linton - when I spotted the pub. I had soup and a coffee by an open fire and was more than happy.

I didn't stay long though, as I wanted to get to Dunbar and the final section on the clifftops before it got too dark for walking on clifftops. Leaving East Linton I walked along a river Tyne (but not the Newcastle one), across field, and when the sun started to set I reached the saltmarshes of the Tyne estuary. Pretty cool, I hadn't expected any saltmarshes.

Walking through John Muir Country Park I then saw something odd. It started with the Lamas. Then ostriches. Sheep, goats and donkeys. And then a huge castle-like structure with slides and ladders, and a little monorail. One moment in the wilderness, and in the next I find myself in a safari park.

The sun properly set when I just spotted the red cliffs of Dunbar. I skirted the golf course (you are never far a way from a golf course in Scotland), and the sky turned pink, and the cliffs turned too dark to see. I arrived in Dunbar at 4 pm.

Dunbar's centre was astonishing. The Christmas lights were wild and colourful, but when I looked more closely I saw that they were in fact sponsored by local businesses: "Season's greetings from all at Torness", or just the name of the firm with a tree or a star. Odd, but cheerful. 

My train home was very busy but warm, so that was nice. I even caught the connecting train to my local station. But when I got off there, Network Rail or Scotrail or whoever I can blame had done quite a blunder: The road that crosses the rails next to the station was closed for roadworks. However, the pavement alongside this road is the only way to get from platform 1 to platform 2 - and this was also closed. So, only one half of the train station was accessible from each side. People living north of it can only take the trains towards Edinburgh, or coming from Glasgow. Unfortunately, coming from Edinburgh, I was on the wrong side. So after walking 15 miles already and being only an 8 minute walk away from home in theory (I could almost see my house) I had to walk another 2 miles to cross the rails in a different place.

The route

North Berwick Law

Dangerous Ford! With a footbridge next to it.

River Tyne

Baby lama

The bridge to nowhere

Pink skies

Local businesses outshining each other

Sponsored Christmas decoration

Wombat

Have you googled a wombat lately? I highly recommend it: *click*

Moths

After a long discussion with my flatmate about minimalism, reducing the number of belongings, and spring cleaning I had this sudden urge to order many things from Icebreaker, maybe also because it was on sale and I just love merino wool clothes. But then today we had guests with moth problems at home. Moths love merino wool too!

These guests are now banned from the flat of course, but I am worried. What's a good moth deterrent?

Challenges

It's only early February, and I am already embarking on a number of challenges for 2015.

I started a barbershop quartet last week, and the first rehearsal went surprisingly well, even though none of us had done anything like it before. Mind you, my bass wanted a voice recording of his part instead of the piano recording I had made at home over Christmas, to put words and music together. As I couldn't find any recording software on my computer, for a while I was contemplating to just call him and leave it as a voice message. But then I ran into my friend Ronnie on the bus, and his pal Mike suggested Audacity, which is a free recording and mixing software. So home I went and did a quick and dirty recording of the bass part, one octave higher of course. Singing on my own in front of people was challenge number one. To be fair, doing karaoke the other week had helped to lose some inhibition.

Knoydart Adventure - Part 3

I decide to be sensible and go down the other side of the bealach, cross the river and walk along it until it meets a footpath and the original route. The descent is quite pleasant as there is no bracken here, it is less steep, and I sing Scottish folk songs and "Climb Ev'ry Mountain" from the film "The Sound of Music". I find the river which is disappointingly easy to cross, no boots have to be taken off, and I follow the river until I find the sneaky pony which was mentioned in another walker's report.

Abandoned house

Sneaky pony

Foxgloves

I arrive back at the campsite after a seven hours' walk and find a water tap behind the bothy. Since no one is around I strip some of my clothes off and do some basic cleaning to get rid off sweat, sun screen, and midge repellant in absence of a shower. I put on my glad rags for Tommy, and five minutes later a horde of about 20 teenage boys arrive at the camp site and pitch their tents.

I hurry to get away from too much uncontrolled testosterone and make my way to the village hall. I find Tommy there, selling me a ticket, and my campsite neighbours, a middle aged couple who sailed their friend's boat from Assynt in the north down to Knoydart. She is an author of historic novels about bears and quite an interesting person. He doesn't say much. Ian McEwan hangs around, waiting for his reading to start. He talks about the conception of his new novella which will be published in autumn, and then he reads a bit. There are questions and answers, and then people disperse, and I have some chips in the pub. I go back for the party, where The Scott Wood Band are playing. They play rocky party folk music with bagpipes and fiddle, and are quite fun and quite loud (*click*). There is also a raffle, and the winner gets a bunch of books, a cd, and whisky which she passes around and has everyone take a sip from the bottle. There is some ceilidh dancing, and I find myself dancing in a group with Ian McEwan. Unfortunately, since most people here know the dances, there are no instructions, and I get spat out of the dancing crowd after only a couple of repetitions of the dance routine. Ian McEwan is doing slightly better than me - he is struggling but he knows how to stay in the game.

I go outside to cool down and rest my old ears. I have a chat with Tommy who tells me about how he built the compost toilet on the campsite and that the next time I take a shite I should read the articles, which are tacked to the walls of the toilet stall, and which are about the construction and how compost toilets work. He also tells me a bit about his life, and that he lives in a three bedroom house on Knoydart which he finds a bit excessive, and he also asks me casually whether I have to work on Monday. I might imagine it, but it almost sounds as if he wants me to visit him at home. But I do have to work on Monday. Too bad.

Knoydart Adventure - Part 2

After landing in Inverie, I make my way to the campsite. I know that it is on a beach somewhere east of the jetty, but I'm not sure how far to go. I pass half of the the houses of Inverie, including the pub, the tea house, the post office, and the village hall, where the book festival is happening, greeting people on the street, when after a kilometer or so a Royal Mail car stops beside me. Even though Knoydart doesn't have road access, it does have a few roads and cars, mostly landrovers. The postie introduces himself as Tommy and asks me whether I am staying at the campsite. I guess I look like it. He tells me that he is also the ranger here who is in charge of the campsite, and he gives me directions. He invites me to come along to the book festival and recites the programme. I make a non-committal noise, since I don't really want to spend the money tonight, but I wouldn't mind having a drink or so with Tommy. After passing the other half of Inverie I find a strip of grass by the beach next to a compost toilet and a field with horses - the campsite. I pitch my tent while watching a few kids playing in the sea. Three other tents are scattered around a large area. It is 7 pm and still beautifully sunny, so I go to the pub to have a pint in the sun. The evening is uneventful and I return to my tent for an early night.

Knoydart Adventure - Part 1

It is Friday late morning. In dire need of an adventure, I take a north-west-bound train from Glasgow to where the rails end by the sea, in Mallaig. It is a long journey, but I like train rides, and I like the idea of taking the train until it cannot go any further. I have brought a big book to read which I have already been working on for a couple of weeks.

Funny in German

I just revisited some of my earliest blog posts which were written in German - and man, was I funny! And you guys were funny, too! Check out this short post and the comments: *klick*!

Yorkshire Dales - Hanlith Horse

Sourdough Explosion

It happens. I fed the sourdough and put it back in a closed jam jar in the fridge before it had completely "digested" the flour. The jar didn't burst, but the pressure was high enough to unscrew the lid a little bit and for the dough to squeeze out into the fridge. The actual explosion happened, when I opened the jar, but no one got hurt. Even the sourdough losses were bearable.

It's strangely satisfying to take care of a living being and watch it prosper. And no, I'm not feeling broody.

Bad Karma

I keep killing rats when I cycle home along the canal at night. They get scared and jump into the water. Or can they swim?

Glen Affric Walk

I set out to walk through Glen Affric, the finest of all Scotland's glens, and while the walk was truly fine it was also truly wet. So finally, you get the whole picture about Scotland: sometimes it does rain here!

Click here for the map.

Five Magpies Are Sitting in front of my Window

One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.

When I had a dog

I once had a dog. I found him at a beach on Skye where he jumped around in the water barking at seagulls and then at his own echo coming off the cliffs. He was reasonably well-behaved, quite upbeat and self-sufficient. He drank water from the streams and ate grass. He liked watching me eat, too, from up close. He followed me along the beach, up the cliffs and across the heather. When I climbed over gates he found holes in the fence. Such a smart dog. I called him Go Away but he wouldn't listen.

Walking on Freycinet Peninsular

Once the Australian walking bug had bitten me I wasn't to be stopped anymore and headed off to my next hike just a few days after the last. I took the bus to the Freycinet national park and walked a circuit with two nights camping. The pictures of the first two days turned out to be a bit misty due to smoke from bushfires in the area.

Australia is big, Tasmania is small. After one hour of walking I ran into The Boys, two gentlemen I had met on the Overland Track. Apart from them I didn't see many people, especially once I left the day use area. I ended up at Cooks Beach where there was only one other person, who I had a nice chat with and who shared some of his candy-snakes with me. Later, another couple joined us at the campsite, but it was still lonely enough.

The next day I refilled all my water containers because I wouldn't have water for the next 30 hours. Unfortunately, there was a mountain to cross, and I'd rather haven't had to carry the three extra kilos. But to cross it I had to. On top of the mountain I was panting like a hippo and met one of those annoying trail runners who disrespectfully run your multi-day walk in just one day and thus make it look EASY. But he was actually pretty nice. It took me 7 hours to reach the next campsite which was located at picturesque Wineglass Bay. At the campsite, there were a few anglers, but I found a lonely spot behind the foredune. I was joined by wallabies, all kinds of birds, and two possums who made a lot of noise at night when they played with my pots which I had left outside. Also, I found a biggish spider in my tent which I didn't dare to catch and throw out because I didn't know whether or not it could kill me. The idea to kill it first didn't cross my mind at the time because it was too big not to be considered a sentient being. Someone told me later that these spiders aren't able to kill people but their bites cause big ugly ulcers, so good call to leave it alone.

The last day the sky had cleared up and I could take the standard pictures of Tasmania's East Coast signature view, the Wineglass Bay from Wineglass Bay Lookout. There, I ran into a group of guys I had shared a dorm with in Hobart.

Freycinet peninsular. I walked from the car park via Hazards Beach to Cooks Beach, from there via Mt. Graham to Wineglass Bay and back to the car park.

Blue wren

Right before Hazards Beach.

Hazards Beach.

Sunset at Cooks Beach.

Cooks Beach.

View from Cooks Beach campsite.

Oyster catchers.

It took me 7 hours because of that stupid mountain.

View from the top of Mt. Graham.

Don't I own this boulder?

Wallaby with joey.

 

Wineglass Bay with the Hazards in the background.

Wineglass Bay seen from the lookout.

Overland Track log #4 - Pictures!!

It took me about an hour to reduce the number of pictures to maybe 10%, so that you'll only get to see the prettiest and most important ones to get an impression.

The trail was well marked. Even for people with orientation skills lesser than mine it must be impossible to get lost.

Some romantic boat hut.

Lots of water up here, and it's drinkable. Barn Bluff to the left, another mountain I did not climb.

My first hut. Note the sleeping platforms. Even though the huts are modern and very well maintained they are still very plain.

Forgot the names of these. I think it was Pretty Pink Flowers.

Lake Will. It was chilly, but I felt icky enough to take a dip here and rinse my sweaty clothes.

Even the lichens here are beautiful.

Tannine-stained water.

The only one of my hundred pictures of a wallaby (small kangaroo) with joey (kangaroo-baby) which was in focus. The joey was too lazy to leave mommy's bag and would just eat out of it instead.

I believe this was the second hut. Maybe Pelion Gap Hut. It was freezing at night here, maybe 3 or 4 C.

The day with hail and cold winds on an exposed part of the trail.

One of many waterfalls.

Waratah.

Knee-deep mud. Fun times!

One picture with people in it! These are some of my walking buddies socializing in the hut at night. Most of them retreated to their tents for sleeping though.

Another romantic hut which surely has a name.

Another pretty waterfall.

Me sitting on top of a waterfall, feet in the water, having a great view.

View from Windy Ridge Hut.

Buttongrass and duckboards.

Shaky suspension bridge.

More duckboarded bog.

Lake St. Clair.

Me doing a rain dance. I think.

Echo Point Hut. Tiny, rat- and possum-infested, and best place ever, if only for the view.

View from Echo Point Hut.

Last bit of walk, through enchanted forest.

My muddy shoes.