Category Archives: Art and architecture.

KING LUDWIG WAY 7 – Fussen, just popping into Austria.

Fussen Castle at night.

Had a spare day in Fussen, a delightful but busy Bavarian town. The old medieval part of town is overlooked by the Hohes Schloss castle and has a delightful mixture of colourful Bavarian ‘town houses’. Fussen is known for lute and violin making, and I passed a statue reflecting this. Cafes are busy serving the hordes of tourists who come to town mainly to visit the two nearby castles associated with King Ludwig II. The hotel I stayed in even had a couple of Japanese waitresses, dressed in busty Bavarian costumes, to cater for the influx of Far Eastern tourists.

Time to escape into the hills.

I walked out of town westwards, heading for the Alatsee. The path soon entered the beech forest and switch-backed along a ridge. There were paths everywhere, all well-signed and well-used by the locals for recreation. Further up the valley, I merged onto a busy cycleway leading to the lake. Cycling seems to be very popular in these parts. Ignoring the possibility of coffee at the lakeside gasthof, I continued up the steep jeep track, which brought me to the Salober Alm restaurant in a little alp. People seemed to appear from all directions, heading for the hut, so it soon became quite busy serving meals and drinks. There were great views back to the Schwangau area, the Ludwig castles and the surrounding Alps. Over coffee, I plotted a circular route back using a different valley. This involved plunging into the woods in a southwesterly direction. I found the path which dropped down a very steep slope in a series of tight hairpins, a bit like a walker’s Alpe d’Huez. Halfway down was a ruined tower overlooking the valley; the information board indicated it to be an old castle [13thC] controlling the area. This had been an important communication route through the Alps. A Roman road, Via Claudia Augusta, came this way as did a salt road in the Middle Ages. The notice said Ludwig II and his brother visited this castle as children.

Vilsegg Castle.

It was while reading the notice that I realised I was in Austria; I thought the signs were different. Checking the map, I see that the Salober Alm was already over the border.

Once down in the valley, I skirted the large industrial limestone works and followed tracks that led back to Füssen. On a quiet lane, I heard the characteristic clinking of carabiners and spotted a couple of climbers on the cliff above. A short scramble up revealed a very compact, steep limestone face with numerous bolted lines. The climbers explained it was very technical climbing, and there were certainly no cracks. Unfortunately, they were just having lunch, so I saw no further action.

Steep technical bolted limestone.

My path became the Laendeweg. I think I noticed the border on my way back, a defunct customs shed. Gentle forest tracks lead back above the glacial River Lech to Fussen in time for tea, or rather coffee, in one of the cafes. On my last night in Bavaria, I enjoyed a superb meal in a quiet restaurant away from the main tourist area, accompanied by a dark beer from King Ludwig himself.

Prost !!!

KING LUDWIG WAY 6 – to the castles.

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Trauchgau. – Fussen

Remember King Ludwig. Today I am walking to his famous castles – the family one he partially lived in, Hohenschwangau and the one he fantasized about and brought into existence, Neuschwanstein.

Neuschwanstein in the distance.

But first, I have to find a way out of the Halblech area as I seem to be off route. Incongruously walking through a paper mill, I pick up some local footpath signs heading to St. Peter’s Church, which I see on the map. This involves a bit of hill climbing at first, but rewards me with superb views towards the Fussen area. I even think I can pick out Neuschwanstein on its hill. The extra little climb up to the isolated church was worth it for views to the Allgau Alps and over the countryside and villages that make up Halblech. On through Berghof to eventually find a KLW sign pointing down a lane through the delightful little farming hamlet of Greith…

Peaceful Greith – Maybe shouldn’t have taken this photo!

… and then on to the expansive Forggensee. Cyclists, in all shapes and sizes, on all manner of bikes, started appearing from all directions. I was getting nearer the tourist traps. A stop by the lake ended up with me feeding the ducks most of my lunch.

Shortly, I was at the bottom of the ski lift near the top of Tegelberg, 1720m. Paragliders were performing tricks in the sky. [This was the scene in 2011 when one collided with the lift cable and left a gondola hanging in mid-air, necessitating a dramatic helicopter rescue.] I was tempted to go up, but the low cloud base put me off, and I had places to go. One of the places was the climb up through the Pollat Gorge but when I arrived I was disappointed to find it was closed off due to rockfall, even I didn’t go against the signs and security fencing. So I took the road to Hohenschwangau and arrived at the massive car park, where thousands of day-trippers were milling around. There were queues everywhere, and tickets for the castles had long sold out for today.

It gets worse …..

Nevertheless, I trudged up to the fairytale turreted Neuschwanstein Castle, where you are able to wander around outside without a ticket. This ‘shrine to Wagner‘ was King Ludwig’s passion for most of his adult life and, in fact, wasn’t completed until after his death. Some of the views were spectacular… … and the crowd watching even more so. Far Eastern faces were in the majority, and our gentle sarcasm of Japanese tourists is being replaced by an adverse reaction to the new breed of brash, pushy Chinese tourists. The Marie Bridge above the Pollat Gorge was mayhem, so I found my own way down through the forest to the Neo-Gothic style Hohenschwangau Castle. There was slightly less hysteria here, and you could imagine Ludwig’s wealthy and privileged family living there in the 19th century. I had no ticket for an inside view, will have to find a virtual tour on the internet; however, I enjoyed the grounds with views back up to Neuschwanstein.

In typical German efficiency, this famous royal castle had its own street number …To avoid the crowds, I took to the forest trails and within 50m, I never saw another person for the next two hours. By now, the clouds had come down, and there were some spots of rain – the first on this trip. Despite this, I thoroughly enjoyed the roller-coaster walk. Through the magnificent beech woods, over ridges, down to lakes and a fitting end to the day at a three-cross viewpoint, a Calvary, high above Fussen. The two castles could be seen through the gloom in their romantic settings. Then it was down the track passing all the stations of the cross in reverse order, presumably, you receive no redemption for this.

Sorry for such a long post; it could have been even longer as I had walked 28 km in addition to all the sightseeing.

KING LUDWIG WAY 5 – no man’s land.

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Rottenbuch – Trauchgau.

Most long-distance walks have a section just to get from A to B using the least painful way. On some previous routes I’ve cheated and hitched across dreary road sections. Today, with one exception didn’t promise much. Progress at first was slow and hesitant, little lanes going everywhere through traditional farming land. The signs and map didn’t agree, re-routing?, but I came out eventually near Wildsteig with views over Schwaig See with alpine peaks in the background. As you can see the weather is average. Navigated more lanes out of Wildsteig and through a nature reserve to head for Wies with its famous church. I’ve certainly had the paths to myself and mostly the churches too, therefore it came as a shock when a coach park appeared discharging hoards of international humanity to the cafes and souvenir stalls around the church. After all the hype that this was the height of Bavarian Baroque I didn’t appreciate this church as well as others. Maybe the crowds put me off. Shame they have allowed trees to grow so close to the front as they hide the architecture of the doorways which incidentally were being renovated.Met Uli the pilgrim outside for a catch up, he was eagerly waiting to go inside. I went for the popular Bavarian ‘kaffee und kuchen’ in one of the nearby gasthofs.

The afternoon was on a traffic free lane accompanied by the tinkling of the occasional bike bell and the continuous cow bells – the alps were getting closer. My hotel for the night was well situated in the countryside outside Trauchgau in the Halblech area and as a bonus had a pool and sauna which were greatly appreciated after a day in no man’s land.

KING LUDWIG WAY 4 – the Ammer Gorge.

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Hohenpeissenberg – Rottenbuch.

Had such a good breakfast that I seemed to be in a daze for the first hour, fortunately I was on easy to follow tracks. The church up on Hohenpeissenberg ridge wouldn’t go away.The only decision I had to make was when to turn right in the dense forest. Then it was steeply down to the Ammer River at times going through prehistoric vegetation. There was an hunting lodge at the bottom where I sat relaxing in the sun for awhile. I was joined by a hot and sweaty pilgrim, Uli whom I kept meeting yesterday, he had missed that right turn!

Pilgrim’s Rest.

I walked alongside the river till I reached an interesting wooden roofed bridge.

I expected to continue into the base of the gorge, but the path climbed up the side of the gorge. It then traversed high in the trees for a couple of hours,with sparse views to the river below. The path hugged vertiginous slopes often with the aid of ramshackle wooden bridges – certainly not ‘vorsprung durch technik’. At one point a steep slope was negotiated using an old climbing rope as a handrail.

Safely down I found a little beach for a late lunch. Then it was back up to the top of the gorge, out of the trees and into meadows leading to Rottenbuch. You enter through the monastery complex with the prominent church and its separate belltower. I thought that the Baroque interior of the church was probably the most impressive I’ve seen so far. As you entered there was an immediate ‘wow’ factor. The colours were more subtle and the stucco work more detailed than elsewhere. Out of interest I wonder how sinful the 18th century congregations were, there were 5 or 6 confessionals down either side of the church. A really worthwhile visit to end the day. Now off to the simple cafe/hotel for the night and typical Bavarian fare.

KING LUDWIG WAY 3 – The Rococo Road.

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Ðiessen – Wessobrun. – Hohenpeissenberg.

Marienmünster Diessen.

I talked yesterday of a pilgrimage to Andechs, and today realised that I’m on the Munich to Santiago de Compostela route. Along the way are numerous shrines, churches and monasteries. I met a man, complete with staff and shell, who had just started a few days ago – only 2600k to go. I remember when I made the journey by bike from Le Puy in France, there were many Germans on the road.

Anyhow, to the more mundane – how far is it from Ðiessen to Windermere?

I only know this because of the above sign; the towns are apparently twinned. I had been previously surprised as I walked up Ðiessen’s main street to see a red English phone box (complete with modern phone system), a gift from Windermere—a strange start to the day.

Ðiessen is dominated by its parish church, the Marienmünster. This was my first stop today. Typical of this area, it is decorated in the Baroque/Rococo style of the 17th and 18th centuries. The domed clock tower was perfectly proportioned. Internally, white stucco with swirling golden giltwork, potent romanticised paintings, and an elaborate altar. The overpowering ceiling artwork, the ornate pulpit and the organ gallery took my attention. This pattern was to be repeated in every church passed today, and there were quite a few. When I look at my photos, I’m not sure which was which, so I won’t bore you with too many.

Walking out of Ðiessen brings you into pretty countryside, meadows with the German Alps in the background. Being Sunday more people were out on the well-signed trails. Haven’t met any Brits yet. Ahead I could also see the prealp of Hohenpeissenberg, 988m, which I would climb much later in the day. A long winding route through a forest kept me in the shade, but horseflies plagued me, lots of itchy lumps tonight. The next stop was the Abbey complex at Wessobrunn, which was surprisingly quiet after yesterday’s experience: The complex featured an interesting church, a free-standing bell tower and the monastery buildings. I ignored the busy inn nearby, hoping to have a break at the next one further on, but it was closed on arrival—bird in the hand, moral. Little-used paths dropped into a gorge and over a rotting bridge, the KLW was signed elsewhere, but I stuck with my guidebook. Written in 1987 by the Speakmans, it remains surprisingly accurate; nothing much has changed in these parts.

Classic alpine farmland followed on the undulating landscape, the farmhouse cum barns are surprisingly large but all well kept. Little-used lanes threaded through the countryside and took me to the small hamlet of St. Leonhard I’m Forst, where there was, of course, a delightful Baroque church to visit.—

I was glad to be out of the next stretch of pine forest, only to be confronted by the steep climb up Hohenpeissenberg, 988m. The last steep meadow led to the pilgrim church, meteorology observatory, Gasthof, and, of course, crowds of people. There were views back to Andechs above the Ammersee. On the southern side, I sat for a while and admired the view across the valley to the Alps, including Germany’s highest peak, the Zugspitze at 2962m.

A quick visit to the interior of the church to view the paintings… … and then I was seated on the balcony of Bayerischer Rigi enjoying a drink, meal and that fabulous view. 300m down the other side in no time to my lodgings on an industrial estate next to the station. Turned out to be 1st class.

KING LUDWIG WAY 2 – a day of Pilgrimage.

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Starnberg to Herrsching / Ðiessen.

Andechs Abbey.

It started well, a filling, early breakfast and I was confidently walking through the streets of Starnberg. But something wasn’t right as I wasn’t leaving the Lake, after 500m I turned about and retraced to the centre. There it was – the street I should have taken completely closed and dug up, no wonder I missed it. Feeling cross with myself having wasted 20mins I stode round the obstruction and on into a small gorge of conglomerate limestone. Walking by a lively stream I quickly left the dog walkers behind. I realised I was walking through a military zone by all the signs. There is something about the German word Verboten that makes you sit up and obey, I must have watched too many 2nd rate war films. Safely out of the war zone I was soon in green meadows and following gravel paths towards the Maisinger See. Another sign had to be obeyed – out came my poles. A welcoming gasthof on the shore providing a coffee break entertained by the village tots (some as young as five) diving in. Farmland, with distant alpine peaks on the horizon, led to the small village of Aschering with its pretty church. As well as following the KLW signs I was on a signed Pilgrimage route heading for the monastery at Andechs, holy ‘relics’ were found here and a Benedictine Abbey established in 1455. Soon it became a popular place of Pilgrimage in Bavaria. The original Gothic church was destoyed by fire and the 18th century replacement was an orgy of the Baroque style of local artists. And so it is today. Coming out of the trees I thought it was in sight but this first church turned out to be part of a prison complex, certainly no Pilgrimage to there.

Once the real Andechs Abbey was in sight I was on a ‘holy way’ and passing the holy shrines. These contained beautiful relief depictions of the stations of the cross – you know the story.

The lane led up into the Abbey and it was here I realised there was another Pilgrimage taking place. The noise level built up and you realised that over 50% of the Abbey grounds was occupied by a drinking and eating parlour, and the party was in full swing! It was a steady flow of frothing tankards and piles of food. The Abbey is famous for its wheat beer brewed here for centuries. The church interior is hard to describe, think gilt. Some of the original treasures were saved. Today the opulence of it all was softened by a girls choir singing simple arpeggio hymns – quite moving for a hardened soul like mine. My Pilgrimage was completed by a glass of the famous dark beer, I opted for the smaller 500ml rather than the litres most were quaffing.

Made quick progress down through another delightful, wooded gorge to the busy town of Herrsching for the boat across the Ammersee. The lake was a mad flurry of hundreds of sail and kite boarders all enjoying the very windy conditions. I was impressed that the ferry didn’t plough into any of them as we crossed. Ðiessen came as a peaceful relief and my lakeside lodgings were perfect.

WEST CRAVEN WAY – Barnoldswick Thornton East Marton.

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The friendly people at The Fountain Inn produced a perfect breakfast for a walking day and I was away about 9. Rather a grey start to the day. In the market square the stallholders were setting out their goods, mainly cheap clothing I’m afraid, but there was a fruit and veg stall from where I bought a couple of bananas. Soon I was onto the canal towpath, Leeds-Liverpool, and passing The Anchor Inn. This is an old turnpike inn which later became a canal-side attraction. In its basement cellar is an amazing and unexpected stalactite display.

Anchor Inn cellar.

There were a few boats moored up but no canal traffic. After a short stretch I took to the fields towards Kelbrook Moor and was soon climbing alongside the delightful Lancashire Ghyll with the mighty Pendle Hill and the diminutive Blacko Tower in the background.

The next farm’s warning signs were all too accurate…

The Pendle Way was followed for a short distance, this is a 45mile route I walked over 2 days a few years ago only to find on my completion a note on my car from a ‘countryside warden’ worrying about my whereabouts. He had been on the point of calling out the mountain rescue. It is always a dilemma when you leave your car for a backpacking trip, putting a note on the windscreen advertising your absence has never seemed sensible. I am circumspect now where I park.

The next couple of miles were through rich pastures and not well signed, I was glad of my leaflet’s directions. The way took me towards Lothersdale, a whole new world of rough moorland fields. This was the perfect territory for Lapwings/Peewits displaying their wavering flight and plaintive call. Trying to photograph one in flight was almost impossible.

To the west Earby town lay below and Weets Hill dwarfed Barnoldswick at its foot.

Weets Hill, Barnoldswick and Earby.

Dodgson Lane followed a clough down the hill and into the farmyard of an isolated and abandoned property. This was in an idyllic situation but with no suitable track to it has so far escaped the developer’s eye. The area here is steeped in old farming traditions, the stone walls a testament to their labours and everywhere reminders of the past.

The pretty village of Thornton was a contrast to the moors. Here I joined The Pennine Way [walked 50 years ago as a teenager with a heavy pack and tent] I was now back into the lush farmland and met a farmer, the only person encountered today, checking his fences. We chatted of old times, his older than mine, shared acquaintances and places. These people are a pleasure to spend time with and full of local knowledge and worldly wisdom. A short stretch back on the Leeds – Liverpool canal and I was back in East Marton. I had time to look around St. Peters Church, with a Norman tower, which I had never visited. Apparently in the churchyard there are memorials to some of the navvies who built the canal – but I couldn’t spot any. The next disappointment was that The Cross Keys pub in the village was closed for refurbishment. At least there were no notes on my car windscreen.

I’ve enjoyed this varied walking route and stayed dry for the trip, although the sun was shy and those cold winds persist. I am surprised that no one else seems to be out on the long-distance trails.

WEST CRAVEN WAY – East Marton Bracewell Barnoldswick.

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Pendle, Longridge Fell and Bowland from Weets Hill.

The West Craven Way is described as “a dramatic walk through some of Lancashire and North Yorkshire’s most beautiful countryside” by Pendle Borough who produce a leaflet and internet download of the route. 24 miles in two halves, I decided to start at East Marton anti clockwise on the western half, spend the night in Barnoldswick [just off route] and complete the eastern section the following day.A rainy morning delayed my start from E. Marton but with an improving forecast I was soon wandering up the lane to the impressive 17th century Ingthorpe Grange. Met a man using the metal coat hanger water diviner trick trying to discover the blocked drains causing flooding to the track. Hope he was successful. The rolling countryside hereabouts apparently is mainly composed of drumlins, deposited by the last ice age, overlying the limestone – very picturesque in the sunshine. The lanes here have an antiquity about them… Passed by Marton Scar, a limestone outcrop, alas too low for any climbing. I do wonder about the environmental impact of some of the modern farming practices, all too common in the area, is this really necessary… Tracks wound through fields full of sheep and lambs to enter the old hamlet of Horton, now mainly gentrified farms and barns. Crossing the busy A59 was not easy. A lazy stream, Stock Beck… …was followed into another small hamlet, Bracewell, where the second person I met was in the garden of the old post office. He was proud of his village and pointed out the plaque on the wall stating it was originally built in 1867 for the village school master. with funds from the sale of an organ and collections in church.Opposite was the church with its Norman tower and I sheltered from the wind in its porch for a snack. A little further on I passed through what appeared to be a motor cycle scramble circuit, agricultural diversification, god knows what the noise and disturbance will be like on a race day.Narrow lanes and fields took me towards Weets Hill where I joined The Pennine Bridleway up to an isolated house on the shoulder from where I couldn’t resist the climb to the top at 397m. Here I met my third person of the day, an elderly fell runner enjoying the sunny weather. One gets a 360 degree view from here [Pendle, Longridge Fell, Bowland, Three Peaks, Barden Moor, Kelbrook Moors and Boulsworth Hill.] all a little hazy today and as the wind was ferocious I didn’t hang about.

Weets Hill with Ingleborough in the hazy distance.

Along the ridge was a house with giant heads, why? I found some lovely little paths down from the hill and into the former mill town of Barnoldswick. The terraced houses harp back to that period but now there is Rolls Royce, Silent Night, smaller industries and a remaining textile mill. Barlick, as the locals know it, was once in Yorkshire but was transferred to Lancashire in 1972. As one wanders in this area you are never sure of which county you are in.

I would like to give a big thanks to Fountain Inn, my accommodation for the night, lovely people – great ales – good supper – comfy room – spot on breakfast. http://fountaininnbarnoldswick.com/

ANGLES WAY – 5. Bungay to Harleston.

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Heavy overnight rain was easing off as we set off and soon we were in a gale-force wind on the plateau of the disused Flixton wartime airfield. The American Air Force used this as a bombing base and were in support of the Normandy landings. Bits of runway appeared below the now agricultural use – extensive fields of wheat and rape.
It was hard going in the strong wind and we were glad to reach the relative shelter of country lanes in the Waveney valley. Ahead of us were some working sand/gravel pits which are quite common in the area, the numerous fishing lakes bear witness to this. In an adjoining field, archaeologists were sifting through the sand, they find continuous signs of occupation from the Iron Age, through Roman times to the medieval. The painstaking work is being carried out before the quarry may expand, didn’t look very inviting in this morning’s weather. As we walked into Homersfield I was attracted to a wooden totem pole carved by Mark Goldsworthy, a local artist, depicting a man in a fishing boat and the words “I dreamed of a beautiful woman who carried me away”. This is a reference to Roman Times when the river Waveney was called Alveron which means ‘beautiful woman’. The striking sculpture stands on what was once the river bed.

Further into the village, we passed the ‘picturesque’ Barnfield cottages built-in 1925 for elderly estate workers.

On past the houses around the village green we happened upon the pub for a pint where we were the only customers. The place has been gentrified with an expensive restaurant possibly to the detriment of the locals drinking, one can see why rural premises are in decline.

More interesting walking on paths in riverside fields and woods followed, the wind didn’t abate. The wild garlic reminded me of a recipe I want to try when I get home. ‘poached egg on a bed of steamed garlic leaves with buttered new potatoes’

The River Waveney was crossed at Mendham where there was a more friendly pub. A final rise crested in the head-on gale to approach the new developments on the outskirts of Harleston. This turned out to be a pleasant old market town to spend the evening in, our 450 years old coaching inn, The Swan, creaked at every step.

BEACON FELL – WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES.

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Had an old mate up from Surrey staying with me last week. For a quick fix of fresh Northern air I took him walking up at Beacon Fell in the afternoon almost as soon as he had arrived. We did the usual circuit of tracks, visiting most of the onsite sculptures and the summit trig point for restricted views. There was something strange though – we never saw another person. Now that for Beacon Fell is very spooky, there is always, no matter the weather, somebody often with a dog using the paths. OK the cafe had been closed half an hour and it was a dull day but that wouldn’t normally matter. Not a single car in the car park or on the orbital road. I have never seen the place so deserted. Spooky indeed.

A few days later I repeated the exercise with family and grandchildren on a sunny Sunday afternoon. What a contrast, there were people and dogs everywhere. The car parks were packed and a queue was forming at the cafe for ice cream and teas. It was good to see so many people getting some exercise but there was an atmosphere of Blackpool about the place.

Everyone to their own choice, but I know why I prefer the quieter times.

Another surprise was the change in the crocodile carving since I last visited, people have started to hammer in coins and I didn’t feel this was overly detrimental. The sculptor may disagree.

Then [2014]

and now.

PS, I was wrong. Hammering coins into wooden sculptures eventually leads to premature rotting of the wood, and is now discouraged.

NOT ANOTHER ECLIPSE PHOTOGRAPH!

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The forecast for this morning was poor, with cloud probably obscuring the partial eclipse. Slept in till 9.30 when I woke up with a start, leapt out of bed and pulled the curtains open to reveal the clouds just parting as the moon crept onto the sun. All disappeared just as quickly. Following my daily resuscitating strong coffee peeped out again to see the moon scuttling past the sun. Quite pleased with the morning so far.

Of course, I hadn’t bothered with any special sun blocking measures as it was so misty in the first place and I was only taking quick photos as the clouds opened. But it made me think of the measures you should take for viewing eclipses, pinhole cameras or very dark glasses or….

… this chap was safe from the sun but missed the eclipse. He was the photographic subject of Tony Ray-Jones in 1968. This links me in to an afternoon this week I spent at the Walker Gallery enjoying Ray- Jones was prolific in the late 60’s but died young from leukaemia. He produced a historical document of the English psyche and eccentricity from those times. Martin Parr was influenced by the photography of Ray-Jones though he never met him. Parr has gone through Ray-Jones negatives and selected a series of prints for this exhibition. In addition, there is a room of Parr’s own prints from a decade later mainly exploring the quirky environs of Hebden Bridge, Yorkshire and its people.

You could watch ——– https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xV817fJgd28

and also

And also https://vimeo.com/116251335

Just to keep you interested see also the insights of this favourite blogger of mine —- https://gerryco23.wordpress.com/2015/03/12/only-in-england-photos-by-tony-ray-jones-and-martin-parr-at-the-walker/

Get yourself to the Walker to view this fine exhibition and start to explore their other gems………

ON LANCASHIRE MOORS – “WHEEREVER AW ROAM”

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The quotation above is from Lancashire dialect poet Edwin Waugh [1817 – 1890] he knew these hills well. before the wind-farms.

I had turned up at the Owd Betts inn, next to Ashworth Moor reservoir above Edenfield, on a bright and frosty morning to meet ‘the plastic bag man‘ and ‘the teacher‘. They are locals and had planned a walk for my enjoyment.

Lovely crunchy ice on the paths straight from the car park, the temperature barely rose above freezing all day despite the sun shining continuously. First up was a quite steep ascent of nipple like Knowl Moor, a first for me. Winter Hill to the west was floating on a cloud.

Immediately we were in a forest of mammoth wind turbines which seem to cover these hillsides and in today’s sunshine the glinting blades were hypnotic. So much so that we descended from the summit on the wrong path and had to veer south, the first of many turnings. Then suddenly we were on the lip of a previously hidden deep valley, Naden Dean with its reservoirs and opposite Rooley Moor our destination for later. More zigzagging took us down. Crossing the middle dam was exciting as the path was sheet ice, I wonder how the teacher’s backside is today.

We climbed back up the other side and met up with the old track leading up the moor to the numerous quarries on high. Views opened up of the Manchester conurbation, tower blocks in Rochdale and the slightly more rural valley towards Bacup. I vaguely remember coming up here on a backpacking trip through Lancashire years ago and walking up stone sets and stone runners worn by the quarry carts or sledges. Not to be disappointed we were soon following this ancient route and contemplating the rigours of the workforce in those days.

Christmas Cake and coffee were very welcome sat on a massive quarry block in the afternoon sunshine. Onwards into the extensive hill top quarries where mountain bikers were in evidence. There has been a lot of recent work up here to provide high standard technical riding.

We were now above our next panorama – the Rossendale Valley in the foreground, Pendle Hill middle distance and a backdrop of the Bowland hills. The moors here are like islands within the industrial waste lands, their wildness now unfortunately diminished by those turbines.

Heading back south we passed by Waugh’s Well an 1866 memorial to the aforementioned Edwin Waugh who spent time at nearby Fo Edge Farm [ demolished by NWWA in the 1970s] His poems and songs in the local Lancashire dialect earned him the title of “the Lancashire Burns”

You should listen to the Oldham Tinkers rendition on ==

Once over the last hill Knowl Moor reappeared and guided us back to the pub.

We were able to use the new tracks winding between the turbines. Stood below them we felt very small and fearful for their stability.

Therefore it came as quite a surprise to read this today — http://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/550220/Giant-wind-turbine-mysteriously-collapses-in-light-winds

Thanks A and P for a top class short day’s winter walk. Much enjoyed.

BOWLAND LANDMARKS ART.

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Further to my previous posts on the Landmark art installations on Longridge Fell and Beacon Fell I decided today to visit the other two sites – Langden Intake and Gisburn Forest.

http://www.forestofbowland.com/bowlandrevealed

It was rather a dull day and I was quite happy inside my car driving out to Dunsop Bridge and onto Langden Intake carpark, no ice cream van today.

Didn’t have to go more than 10 yards into the trees from the car to view Phillipe Handford’s Out Take. This consisted of boards hung between trees with perspex inserts forming a curvy pattern. You can walk into the installation and view it from different angles and with different backgrounds. Behind are the rolling Bowland Hills. I spent time here and began to appreciate the natural setting and the curves within the boards. Are they a reflection of the Bowland hill outlines or of the Langden Brook’s sinuous journey?

I drove on to the Gisburn Forest hub carpark [pay and display!] and walked up the hill to Salina Somalya’s Celeste. This was a sculpture on the edge of a stone wall with a view through the forest to Stocks Reservoir, on a good day. The multitude of cyclists on the fell ignored it or were unaware of its existence. I found this metal and stone much harder to appreciate, couldn’t see any symbolism and felt it intrusive. Maybe if I had the views it would take on a different aspect. So thumbs down to Celeste.

I’ve enjoyed visiting the other three and hope they can achieve some permanence in the Bowland scene. Catch them while you can.

BEAUTY – IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER.

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One of my posts in November introduced the Landmark art now installed in Bowland to celebrate 50years of it being An Area Of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

http://bowlandclimber.com/2014/11/15/a-new-kid-on-the-block/

That dealt with the sculpture on Jeffrey Hill and I mentioned three others. Today I went in search of the one on Beacon Fell. The day was mixed with wind and showers but I felt I needed the exercise so I contrived a walk in the Beacon Fell area. Having parked up I took to the field paths to the north of the fell, not realising how much rain we had last night and how badly drained they were. Was glad to eventually climb the hill into the forest close to the Information Centre, a few brave souls were sat at the outside tables supping tea in the hail showers.

From near here I picked up the trail marked with inscribed stones leading to the installation – Beauty by Geraldine Pilgrim. The information panel explained…In the trees was a fragile looking glass box which on closer inspection revealed internal mirrors reflecting the forest. I wanted to look through it but had to be content with mirror images of myself as well as the trees. The piece seemed to work better from a distance [as in the first photo above] when the beauty of the forest was somewhat encapsulated in the cube, in the eye of the beholder.

Onwards over the fell and I came across a sculpture I had missed previously – the living deer.I hope that has completed my Beacon Fell sculpture collection.

Through the wintry showers Parlick looked imperious to the north….…. whilst far to the south the Preston skyline looked futuristic.All very beautiful in the eye of the beholder.

CATS, FOOTBALL and the EGYPTIANS.

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One of my most memorable trips abroad in the last ten years was a three week wander around Egypt, I visited Cairo, Luxor and Aswan using local transport. Some chance now. I was thoroughly captivated by the culture, the people and the food. I was able to visit most of the major sights at my leisure and uncluttered by any mass tourism. Amidst all the ruins, graves pyramids and museums I was particularly impressed by many of the beautiful sculptures. The modern museum in Luxor stood out for their display. I became immersed in the world of past gods and their significances. Cats were revered 4 – 5 thousand years ago and given god like status. I came home with several reproduction stone and pottery feline figures. My cat, aged ten, had recently died from feline leukaemia and I therefore on my return took up the offer of a couple of delightful kittens from a local farm. The female I named Bastet [Egyptian cat goddess] and the male Seth [Egyptian animal god] good and bad, noble and dark, ying and yang. They have been constant companions and live up to their names.

Bastet and Seth.

This week I visited the Atkinson Arts Centre in Southport once again, this time to view the recently opened Egyptian Gallery. Seth and Bastet were well represented, much to my delight.

Bastet figure.

This exhibition has a colourful background. A Mrs Anne Goodison from Liverpool collected Egyptian artefacts on her travels at the end of the 19th century, before the tomb of Tutankhamen was even discovered, and displayed them in her home. One can now wonder and debate about the ‘ethics’ of this style of Victorian collecting. She was the wife of George Goodison a well respected local civil engineer who had installed a sewerage system to the Everton area of Liverpool. When the Everton Football stadium was built in 1892 his name was immortalised in sport.

Anne died in 1906 and George having no interest in her collection sold it on for £400 pounds!! and it ended up in Bootle Museum. This gallery closed in 1974 and the collection of over a 1000 artefacts has been in storage ever since. With lottery funding and some obvious passionate effort they are now to be viewed in a permanent gallery at the Atkinson. Brilliant.

The exhibition is in a small intimate area and highlights some beautiful pieces. OK so you get the mummy but the main objects to relish are the small pieces – jewellery, beads, ceramics, shabtis [servant figures for the next life] rare ‘paddle dolls’ [fertility symbols] sandals etc.

There is a colourful and informative video presentation of two young children talking, in Lancashire accents!, about their life in the time of the Pharaohs in an attempt at reality. One a boy hoping to be a scribe, a very important person, and the other a humble peasant girl.

The exhibition is fascinating and enthralling partly because of its small scale and everyday objects but yet it displays the magnificent art work the Egyptians had achieved up to 5000 years ago. This has to be an important addition to Egyptology study in this country. Its origins make me wonder how much more may be hidden in long forgotten or neglected private collections.

I highly recommend a visit to The Atkinson if you are in the area to view this collection. Remember ‘small is beautiful’.

Seth on a Gold ring.

A NEW KID ON THE BLOCK.

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On one of my walks up Longridge Fell this week I came across a new sculpture installation on Jeffrey Hill just below the car park at Cardwell House. [SD639403]

This stunning carving is part of a cluster sculptured by Halima Cassell entitled Sun Catcher. The central piece is carved from a mighty 150 year old oak. Its strong lines catching the light in different ways and forming a focal point to the natural Bowland Fell backdrop.

The smaller pieces have a fern like appearance in wood and stone.

Having been away I missed the publicity for the launching of this sculpture and it was a pleasant surprise discovery, I feel it fits well into the situation which is a popular beauty spot without being over-intrusive.

Reading the information board it turns out that there are four Landmark art installations to commemorate 50 years of The Forest Of Bowland being recognised as An Area Of Outstanding Natural Beauty. The others are at Beacon Fell, Langden Intake and Gisburn Forest. See http://www.forestofbowland.com/bowlandrevealed and look at latest updates, from where you can download a leaflet covering all four.

I am not sure how permanent these installations are meant to be so I had better get around to seeing the rest. It has just struck me that if they were to become permanent it would be interesting to create a walking route linking them, Maybe I should speak to the powers that be.

BARCELONA – no words necessary.

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LE CHEMIN DE STEVENSON. Day 7.

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Wifi has been a big problem in these parts, so I’m catching up at home.

Le Bleymard — Le Pont de Montvert.

At last some morning sunshine and clear skies! The route out was steep all the way up to the small ski station of Lozere where we stopped for coffee. Once out of the ski runs we picked up the wonderful line of standing stones leading up to Mt. Lozere. These granite stones occurred every 50m or so and were individually beautiful pieces, some being re-erected as the GR70 gained in popularity. A wonderful feeling of past navigations.

To reach the summit of Mt. Lozere, 1699m, they are left to follow a well defined track westwards. At the moment there seems to have been a lot of art work installed on the route, further research will be necessary to found out why and by whom. There is a mole like track of new soil leading you on, there are several ‘washing lines’ on the horizon, there is a multitude of cleverly balanced small cairns and at one point a bath installation!!

The summit today gave 360degree views. The French ‘trig’ point was rather disappointing compared to ours in the UK.We lunched by a boulder enjoying the sunshine and southern views over distant ranges towards the Med. Stevenson wrote of ‘a sea of blue hills to the south’

Rougher tracks took us into the valley of Finiels and onto ancient tracks between boulder cleared fields. The whole valley was filled with boulders and one can only imagine the labour needed to farm this landscape.

Eventually Le Pont de Montvert came into sight, a cluster of houses around the confluence of two rivers – the Rieumalet and the larger Tarn. This is a popular tourist destination with a busy street alongside the Tarn and an old arched bridge connecting the two areas of the town. Our hotel was on the southern bank, Hotel les Cevennes, and was the one Stevenson stayed in.

We arrived to find a key and a rather confusing note as to the whereabouts of our room across the street from the hotel. We, along with a couple of women with a donkey whom we met, tried several private doors in the narrow streets before entering an old house with well presented bedrooms. Unfortunately our bathroom was flooded with an inch of water, so bailing out was our first duty. The bohemian hotel staff, when summoned, didn’t seem too worried and fortunately there was no further problems. Dinner was superb.

We have been blessed with perfect conditions, after our recent rain, for crossing Mount Lozere

This whole area was the scene in the 18th century of persecution of the Protestant population by the Catholic church and many bloody conflicts occurred.

PASSPORT TO LIVERPOOL.

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The lady on the Passport Office ‘helpline’ threw me into a panic when she said you need 3 months spare on your passport to fly abroad. I seem to remember this rule from years ago! My passport runs out in October and I will be in France most of September, so I hurriedly booked an appointment at the Liverpool office for a one-day application. Yesterday a quick round from the PO with form to a photo booth in Azda to my neighbour for countersigning. All a trifle stressful to ensure accuracy. A subsequent phone call to the French Embassy, they speak French!, informed me more accurately that for the EU you can travel up to the final day on your passport. Still I had an appointment for today so let’s get it done with. On an early Sunday morning, the drive past the port to the Passport Office was easy. Last time the office was in the old India Building but has now been transferred to a shiny block in a sea of tall glass buildings. All was very efficient, I had filled in the form correctly, Phew! Just pay the fee and come back at 1PM for your treasured new passport.

Set off to walk up to the ‘cultural centre’ of the city, passing some varied buildings and street sculptures.

The last time we were in Liverpool [see post — http://bowlandclimber.com/2013/11/16/a-busy-weekend-a-long-post-of-short-walks-art-and-restaurants/%5D we had ended up with a quick visit to the Walker Gallery to view some early Hockney paintings. I promised myself a return to sample the rest of their extensive collection, one of Europe’s finest, today was that day.

The Walker Gallery

First a coffee in the ground floor café to unwind and then from Medieval to Modern, Holbein to Hockney, in 15 galleries. Along the way Rembrandt, Gainsborough, Turner, Millais, Monet, Cezanne, Matisse, Freud, Lowry and up to date with the John Moore’s 2014 Prize paintings.

John Moore’s Prizes.

In amongst all this was a delightful small exhibition of Edward Wadsworth ‘dazzle ship’ prints. This technique was used in the WW1 to confuse our ships to the enemy. Some colourful arty videos of Mexico enabled me to sit down for a while.

Mexican videos.

Staggered out and down into the commercialism of Liverpool 1 which seemed to be populated with the dregs of last night’s hen and stag parties, not a pretty sight.

Liverpool 1

Walked back past the iconic Liver building to collect my prize. So off to France clutching it next week. Au revoir.

IRWELL VALLEY TRAIL. 2. INTO MANCHESTER.

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Left Ramsbottom on what promised to be a warm sunny day, no shops were open yet. Soon picked up better waymarking which persisted all day – different local authorities. Leaving the river for fields I found the path weaving between Rose Bay Willow Herb and Himalayan Balsam, the latter had not reached the popping stage which will be dramatic here.

A lovely long stretch of cobbled path took me to an old cotton mill at Brooksbottoms, no doubt this is the way the workers tramped to and from their employment. Then I walked close to the East Lancs railway and passed through Summerseat station….….before dropping down to the river and a climb into fields with views back to the prominent Peel Tower above Ramsbottom.

The walking maintained a high standard alongside the Irwell through Burrs Country Park.Actually found some sculptures in the old mill area of the park.

STONE CYCLE

PICNIC TABLE

The stones came from an old bridge in Bury and the picnic table could be a ‘trap’ for tourists. Slipped out of Bury on Cycleway 6, an abandoned railway, past the Elton sailing reservoir and then along the overgrown and defunct Manchester, Bolton and Bury Canal. All this was unexpected rural walking. Got chatting to an elderly man taking his daily walk home along the canal, his wife thinks he catches the bus, he was 92 after all.The canal took me right through Radcliffe where a butty bar provided tea. Further on field paths took me to rejoin the cycle way track which led for a couple of miles through remote feeling woods. This was the site of Outwood Colliery which closed in 1931 after a fire.

Further stone statues were in evidence –

After crossing the busy M62 motorway I entered Prestwich Forest Park, under the 13 Arch Old Railway Bridge, with well signed and used cycle and walking routes. I was walking alongside the Irwell but views were restricted by the abundant vegetation, another wild area where Giant Hogweed has established itself.After all this rural walking it was a shock to walk down the first busy road of the day. I did a rather pointless large loop with the Irwell, this is probably bypassed my most. It was only when I was alongside the Irwell in Salford that I started whistling Ewan MacColl’s Dirty Old Town. The 551ft Hilton Tower acted like a beacon to guide me through streets to near where the Irwell empties into the Manchester Ship Canal. I had walked 18miles today, an exploration of Salford docks can wait till another occasion.

Trinity Bridge over the Irwell linking Salford and Manchester.