A LIST.

I used to have a list of ever-increasingly harder, but modest climbs to do. Lead E2 on my 50th, E3 on my 60th etc etc….Looking back I’ve achieved an awful lot and can’t complain – so I’m not going to.  I’ve pushed my limited physique to enjoy a few good decades of climbing, first traditionally in Britain and many places abroad and more recently sports climbing in the latest hotspots. My well-documented problem with my left big toe and its associated pain have limited my climbing recently – but I still hobble up to Craigy for a short session. I was surprised therefore to find on my pinboard a list of to-dos  – without a single climb. The list had been concocted last year whilst I was recovering from a toe operation and hopeful of some easy rehabilitation and was entirely composed of straightforward walking routes. There must be a link here to my recent post on what motivates me.

As you can see I’ve already ticked off some of the list at the end of last year, most satisfying was the completion of the GR7 through Spain. This route has given me many weeks of superb walking and immersion into Spanish society that I’ll never forget. But onwards I go and now I find myself starting on the GR131, a linear walk recently discovered in the Canary Islands. One has to fit the season to the walk [or vice versa] and now is the optimum walking time out in the Canary Islands.

The other listed walks can wait for suitable times and companions. Maybe I’ll find mine…….

………….watch this space for more list ticking.

USING MY BUS PASS.

Windswept Parlick.

This last week I was thwarted on my planned two day walk because I couldn’t face paying  a pub £60 B&B!  Anyway the weather was not brilliant.

I’ve had some recent conversation with Conrad, he of the long walks, over the miles one drives in relation to actual walking distance. [we used a lot of public transport on our recent Cheshire Ring Walk]  I’ve been guilty in the past of driving long distances to accomplish a relatively small walk. Whilst I was ‘Munroing’ this was often a problem with a mad dash up North in the car at a weekend. I partially overcame this by stringing together hills on long backpacking trips, having travelled there by rail. At the time [1978] I had just read Hamish Brown’s book on his continuous journey and was enthused to do likewise on a smaller scale.

I hate to think of the air miles I’ve covered to reach my backpacking jaunts on the continent, again I’ve mitigated those somewhat more recently by using the eurorail network when possible. Rock climbing trips usually meant a lot of [shared] driving. Looking back I could have used public transport far more. No one is perfect.

I’m lucky to be able to walk from my house into the Bowland area and now use my car as little as possible locally. As Saturday afternoon proved to be fairly bright and dry I  set off to walk through the fields to Chipping. Time was short so I did a linear walk and then caught the bus back. This made for an enjoyable few hours with time for a coffee in The Cobbled Corner Cafe in Chipping whilst waiting for the bus, money into the local economy. Of course the bus pass comes in handy, must use it more often!

Nothing much happened on the walk. A couple of Buzzards were watched for some time. I’ve avoided the cliched photos of frisking lambs and sparkling snowdrops. Instead there is a strange green corrugated shed, a rotting ?Bedford truck and a farmer’s unsightly silage pile.

MOTIVATION.

Last week it was so easy in Sri Lanka to get out walking, exploring, swimming etc.  I always find that going abroad to sunny warm climes helps me through the winter months, but it comes as a bit of a shock back home. For a few years now I’ve used a SAD light box in the darker months but don’t know how effective it is. This last week has been cold and dull and finding the motivation to exercise outdoors is difficult. I don’t do ‘gyms’ and now I’m not climbing much don’t have the regular wall sessions. Mr. Motivator from the 90’s breakfast TV has just come to mind – remember him?

If there is a trip on the horizon I push myself to get semi-fit, I no longer delude myself about keeping in shape. So I have decided to set off on a couple of walking trips in the near future, one short and the other long, to give me some added motivation. This week I fitted in a couple of forest walks on the dry tracks of Longridge Fell but there was little to see. Phoning friends to suggest a walk was fairly fruitless as they all seem to be injured.

I needed something to get me out at the weekend and I scanned my memory for a local walk – interesting, dry underfoot and somewhere I hadn’t visited for years. I came up with idea of the private road up from Dunsop Bridge to the remote Brennand and Whitendale Farms.

So after lunch I parked up in Dunsop Bridge, almost the centre of the British Isles and home to a lot of well fed ducks. Most of this area is owned and managed by The Duchy of Lancaster – there was no sign of the Queen today. The walk up the tarmacked road by the River Dunsop was popular with families and dogs. Most going no further than the salmon leap where the Brennand and Whitendale rivers join. Despite this being a classic northern river valley I only caught sight of one Dipper.

At that junction I was passed by a lady jogger who explained she was heading home to one of the farms. Must be a lonely existence up here. Carrying on up the Brennand I had the only section on wet paths round the back of the appropriately named Middle Knoll. The drop down to Whitendale Farm was much steeper than I remembered and I regretted not having my sticks – having lost the bottom section of one on my recent Cheshire Ring Walk, memo to buy another.

The 3 miles back down the road passed quickly as the temperature dropped. This is a surprisingly remote walk in the Bowland Fells despite the tarmac and made for a great afternoon’s diversion. Highly recommended and so accessible.

Just have to book that flight to the sun and my motivation will be on course.

Middle Knoll.

Middle Knoll.

Dipper River.

Dipper River.

Deepest Bowland.

Deepest Bowland.

What is the history about this?

What is the history behind  this?

10 ‘TOP’ THINGS I SAW IN SRI LANKA.

I’ve just returned from a two week walking/sightseeing tour of Sri Lanka, with a small friendly Exodus group. Organisation was first class and the busy itinerary perfect. I would urge anybody to pay a visit to this magic island.

Wifi was poor out there so I’m posting a general impression of the highlights now, in no particular order.

1. THE PEOPLE.

The Sinhalese are mainly Buddhists, with a minority of Christians and Muslims. There are sizeable populations of Tamils in the NE and on the tea plantations. All I can say is that they are all very friendly and smiling towards us tourists! There did not appear to be the overcrowding and poverty prevalent in India and Pakistan. The lack of hassle was very welcome.

Our crew.

Our crew.

Local wedding.

Local wedding.

2. THE LANDSCAPE.

As this was substantially a walking holiday we explored some quite remote hilly areas of the country and enjoyed an insight into farming life that has not changed for centuries. The Knuckles Mountain Range was particularly impressive and untouched, we needed local guides to find our way through the jungle. Horton Plains and Worlds End were also a highlight despite the usual damp mountain weather. The walking around Ella was spectacular on a smaller scale. There were some lovely waterfalls in the hills.

3. BUDDHAS….

Everywhere there were Buddha statues and shrines for the people to make their offerings and pray as part of their daily life. We learnt about the different poses of Buddha and the steps to Nirvana. During our stay there was a full moon which is auspicious to the Buddhists and hence a holiday and crowds at popular sights.

4. ….TEMPLES.

Any Buddhist country has a plethora of Temples, on this trip we achieved the right balance of sightseeing and didn’t become ‘templed out’.  Dambulla, Adam’s Peak, Temple of the Tooth and Kataragama were the highlights. Most temples were shared with other religions giving a cosmopolitan experience.

Dambulla.

Dambulla.

Adam's Peak.

Adam’s Peak.

Kataragama.

Kataragama.

Don’t forget to remove your shoes before entering any temple.

5. SIGIRIYA.

Sri Lanka has had a colourful and tortuous history and many ancient capital cities have crumbled to be replaced by the next. The dramatic short lived Sigiriya was one of them, unbelievably constructed in the 5th century on a 200m rock tower and needing a head for heights to scale today. Halfway up in a cave are some well preserved frescoes of beautiful damsels.

A salutary warning!

The summit fort.

 6. TOWNS.

We only visited a few towns Kandy, Nuwara Eliya, Ella and Galle.  Nuwara Eliya was the strangest with ‘Tudor’ houses, old colonial clubs, a golf course and a race course!

Grand Hotel, Nuwara Eliya.

Grand Hotel, Nuwara Eliya.

We had time to explore the local markets and cafes, opportunities to sample the traffic from the dubious safety of a Tuk Tuk.

Kandy Market.

7. CUISINE.

Srio Lankan food is distinctive from Indian in the abundant use of coconut for its oil, milk and flesh, ‘The Tree of Life’.  Most places served a version of rice and curry, [aubergine beetroot beans and dhal] with accompanying hot coconut sambol. Hoppers and banana leaves were extras and we had a cooking class to learn how.

Rice and curry.

Rice and curry.

In the towns with a significant Tamil population roti, samosas and wada were available for a change.

Tamil cafe.

Tamil cafe.

I thought the fish was disappointing for an island. Everything was very cheap – 2 or 3 quid for a meal.

£2.50

£2.50

The local Lion Lager was OK and the arrack liqueur potent.

8. FLORA AND FAUNA.

I was constantly surprised at the variety of vegetation and wildlife we encountered whilst walking – from rain forest, plains to mangrove swamps. With the expertise of our local guides all manner of spice plants were recognised – nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, cardamoms, peppers. The different palms were explained, coconuts for milk, flesh or toddy. Magnificent trees on the forest walks and beautiful flowers everywhere. Wildlife was everywhere, we visited a game park but saw more on our walks in the forest and around lakes. Animals ranged from centipedes to elephants and I saw more exotic birds than I’ve seen before.

9. TIME FOR TEA.

The British brought tea to Ceylon at the end of the 19th century and it still is a major industry. Large areas of highland jungle were cleared for planting and Tamil labourers brought in. Their ancestors are still the major workforce today in the tidy tea estates dominating the hill country. The estates have a colonial feel and much of the British machinery used for processing is aged. The teas are graded according to the leaf size and give a minefield of abbreviations – OP, BOP, BOPF and Dust. Tea is served everywhere.

10. THE BEACH.

So not all was good………..The leaches were ‘bloody’ numerous but not as dangerous a the ‘electric’ showers………only 11 hours flight back …

CHESHIRE RING WALK – Northern Section, day 3

Manchester City Centre  –  Marple.

In the mist an almost ghostly early journey on the Tram brought us back to Piccadilly. We disappeared underground where we had popped out last night, a few drunks were still staggering about from their all night session. In the depths water was rushing around us in numerous leats and escaping from leaky locks – audibly very similar to a caving trip in the Yorkshire Dales. Things improved when we left the Rochdale Canal and doglegged into the Ashton. New canalside developments seemed habitable, warehouse conversions or twee town houses with all the usual little balconies. This is Manchester – how often do you sit and sip your cocktails in the evening?

The freezing mist persisted. I was disappointed not to see much of the Etihad Stadium or the Velodrome and attached BMX course where one of my Grandsons would be trying to break something on his bike or himself.

This is a part of Manchester I don’t know and we passed quickly through the suburbs past a series of locks towards Dukinfield. There were no boats using this stretch and because of the mist we didn’t see very much. The Portland Basin at Dukinfield where we branched onto the Peak Forest canal looked popular, there was a cafe and museum, but as they were on the opposite bank and we were on a tight schedule we pressed on. More people started appearing, mainly dog walkers, as we contoured high above the wooded Tame valley. Our lunch stop sat on a stone wall coincided with the start of a snow storm! Old walled bridle ways linked up with unseen 19th century industrial sites below. A quick visit to a road above in ??Hyde [the home of Harold] produced an Aldi and The Cheshire Ring pub. After bypassing a tunnel we were now walking above the attractive Goyt Valley and more people [and their dogs] were taking their Sunday exercise. The Marple Goyt Aqueduct was the next attraction, a hundred foot high, with an exposed canalside. Probably best seen from below.Thinking we were dropping into Marple we were surprised to find a series of 9 locks taking us up to the road near the station. Our train wasn’t due for an hour so we hopped on a bus to Stockport and another to Altrincham and another to Timperley, didn’t cost us a penny!

Thanks Conrad.  I’m keen to complete the circle now but that will have to wait till I arrive back from hotter climes.

CHESHIRE RING WALK – Northern Section, day 2.

Lymm  –  Manchester City centre.     

‘Overhead, the light is fading. Below, in the murky water, bubbles rise and burst amid a sludge littered with debris from nights gone by: takeaway boxes, empty beer cans, condom wrappers, needles. The walkway is dotted with tunnels, low-hanging and cobwebbed, where shadows lurk beyond the reach of street lights and the air is heavy with the stench of decay.’            Sarah Rainey  writing in the  Daily Telegraph.  16 Jan 2015.

Her article rather melodramatically discussed the possibility of a serial killer,  nicknamed  “The Pusher”,  stalking these Manchester canals. 61 bodies in 6 years is the tally, some have met a violent end but others were probably inebriated.

As we rejoined the Bridgewater canal at Lymm on a sunny and frosty day these thoughts never crossed our minds. An interesting and varied morning lay ahead on this well used section of canal.

Things changed in the afternoon as we entered Stretford, the graffiti and litter increased and we felt alone. The tow-path was completely barred [even for us] near Old Trafford Stadium necessitating an unpleasant road diversion only to find ourselves in no man’s land on the wrong side of the canal in a dingy area. Perhaps the anxiety contributed to Conrad taking a nose dive into the concrete, he was lucky to come up with only scalp bruising and twisted glasses. We made our escape to the gentrified Castlefield area all the time marvelling at the complexity of the canals, their basins and the engineering skills that had created them. We were now on the Rochdale Canal. Areas with bright busy canalside cafes gave way to echoing subterranean passages with shadowy figures, I found myself humming the Harry Lime theme. Eventually we emerged into the busy Canal Street and Piccadilly Station to catch the Metro tram to Altrincham, a first for us which left us impressed with the transport system.

               We survived to tell the tale.

CHESHIRE RING WALK – Northern section, day 1.

Acton Bridge – Lymm.

The Cheshire Ring is a 97mile circular canal route linking six canals.  Trent and Mersey; Bridgewater; Rochdale; Ashton; Peak Forest and Macclesfield with a total of 92 locks. Somebody had the bright idea of using the tow-paths as a walking route, skirting the Pennines, passing through the Cheshire countryside, vast industrial areas and the city centre of Manchester.

Conrad had already walked half last year but we teamed up for the Northern Stretch over three icy days this January, using my son’s house in Altrincham as a hub.

See Conrad’s version at   http://conradwalks.blogspot.co.uk/

We were dropped by the Acton Swing Bridge which is actually on the navigable River Weaver, at this point close to the Trent and Mersey Canal where we joined the ring.

Walking briskly to combat the cold we made good progress along the tow-path through rural Cheshire until confronted by an unexpected blockage.

Undeterred we proceeded with only a little squeezing past barriers. The canal had been drained in one section for repairs.

The spoil of some past crime had been recovered ……

The weather took a turn for the worse with cold rain and the path more muddy, reaching for my poles I discovered the lower section of one had dropped out at some stage but there was no point in returning to search. Sad after 20 or more years of faithful use.

A tunnel without a tow-path was climbed over, a kingfisher was spotted, we ducked under the M56, a seat found for lunch, Fiddler’s Ferry power station belched its steam.On the edge of Warrington we found an antiquated chandlers shop open and serving hot drinks from a machine. The owners were a font of canal tales and warned us to be wary tomorrow of  local youths causing problems where the canal winds through the city.  From there it became more Cheshire-like to finish in the sandstone town of Lymm.

A full day and what with all the slipping about in the mud I felt tired enough to ponder two more days of the same. A bus meandered through the countryside back to Altrincham.

BLOWN AWAY.

               A post about nothing but the need to get out, exercise and enjoy one’s locality.We are just on the edge of the severe gales this weekend but nonetheless it’s hardly fit to be out. Previously I would have headed to the warmth of the climbing wall, but being wary of the associated big toe pain I ventured outdoors for my afternoon exercise. For some perverse reason I chose an exposed Longridge Fell circuit, mainly for the dry road walking. I only had my phone with me for pictures. The little reservoir at the top of the village resembled the mid Atlantic.

The wind blew me up the fell road in no time and I couldn’t resist a diversion to visit the trig point. The Vale of Chipping below was flooded in many areas, sunlight came and went as the clouds blew rapidly through.

Despite being back on the road progress was slow against the 30-40 mph gale coming straight at me, would not have liked to be any higher. A passing motorist even stopped to enquire whether I needed Help.  A forest area next to the road has been cleared of trees since I was last up here and was almost unrecognisable, the previously hidden ‘Sweden’ quarry, a large hole, was now laid bare on the hillside. There used to be some bouldering here but the rock reverted to vegetation through lack of traffic, maybe things could change.

The golf course was deserted, with the flags straining on the greens. This must be one of the most exposed golf courses in the country, running along the fell top.

In fact I saw only one other person, he was running around the road circuit. He is well know for running in his bare feet and true to form despite the cold and wet was not wearing shoes today!!!  I have hidden his identity / insanity on the photo.

Felt a touch of insanity myself as I battled against the wind and cold towards home, a welcome bath and the last of the mince pies. Probably do something similar tomorrow.

ON LANCASHIRE MOORS – “WHEEREVER AW ROAM”

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.

SAM_6776

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.

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.

A HAPPY BOWLAND NEW YEAR.

Since arriving back from La Gomera Christmas has come and gone, I’ve reacclimatised to the weather, caught up with family and friends, been walking and [indoor]climbing and now 2015 is upon us. So Happy New Year and here are a few random photos in the Bowland locality from this last week of mixed weather.

Langden Brook.

Pikefield Plantation, Slaidburn.

Hazelhurst Fell across Bleasdale.

Gliding past Parlick.

My boys under Fairsnape.

Fairsnape and Parlick.

Parapenting out of the mist.

Parapenting out of the mist.

Ascending Saddle Fell.

Ascending Saddle Fell.

Light into Chipping Vale.

Light into Chipping Vale.

Not me!

Not me!

Parlick in evening sun.

Parlick in evening sun.

What hope for Longridge in 2015?

What hope for Longridge in 2015?

 

LA GOMERA – Los Roques, up and over again.

Our last day’s walking and we were blessed with clear and sunny weather. A lift up to Pastrana saved us 5k of road walking and we were straight into another barranco with all the usual  variety, getting blasé now. This was no ordinary valley however as at its head nearly a 1000m above us was the Roque de Agando.

A became a little lost in the abandoned hamlet of Benchijigua. we found a well signed track not on the map heading straight up, It still took us nearly 3 hours of sweating to to pop out onto a road level with the gigantic rock. There are obvious routes up this monolith but apparently there is no official climbing on the island. Views back down the barranco to the sea and now views northwards across forested ridges to more rocks and Tenerife. A good spot for lunch. There was an iron sculpture featuring the names of people who lost their lives in a large fire in 1984.

A path sloped off dramatically down a ridge below the Roques Zarcita and Ojila. Again this path has recently been resigned and upgraded recognising the importance of walking tourism to the island. Down and down through trees and heathers crossing many small steams to arrive in the next valley with La Laja now a steep climb back up on village tracks. This village clings to the hillside like somewhere from Nepal, the track winds through the houses, many having recently been restored. Productive garden plots hang everywhere in the ravine. Several cross ravine wires support swinging baskets for ease of transfer of produce to the road, a sign of recent past agricultural activity. Once up onto the road it was a relaxing walk down the valley passing reservoirs in stunning scenery to Chejelipes. Houses we passed all seemed to have German or Dutch owners. There was time for a refreshing Dorada beer in the basic Atajo bar whilst waiting for our lift down to San Sebastion. What a good 8 hour’s tramp today.

It was good to be back in the capital which I thought was an endearing port and would make a good base for a holiday with its buses to the rest of the island. We visited the ferry office to change our ferry booking to a more sensible time for the morning. There was a good little cafe opposite the hotel for our final catch of the day – fried PULPO.

But never mind the fish I particularly enjoyed the simple ‘papas arrugadas’ [wrinkled salt potatoes] served most nights with red and green mojo sauces.

Back to the cold in England tomorrow.

LA GOMERA – El Drago, the dragon tree.

The bus time tables for La Gomera are idiosyncratic – they give the route and the time of leaving San Sebastion but no intermediate times, one has to guess. We were stood at the bus stop for half an hour waiting for the bus to Alajero, it eventually arrived and whisked us for 2euro to the village nearest the oldest Dragon tree on the island. There are thousands of small dragon trees all over La Gomera but we were looking for the largest and oldest. Nobody else got off the bus. Using our poor map I think we took the long way in to the tree. Steeply down into a junction of barrancos and then a long scramble up a dry ravine. As this became a deep impassable canyon……we climbed out with the lone tree in sight across ancient terracing. The tree is protected by a rather incongruous metal fence.  We scrambled up to a viewing platform above and realised there was a constructed path coming in  from the road, which of course we followed out. The tree itself was certainly impressive with a very wide gnarled trunk and arching divided branches, about 10m high. The red sap of these plants [the dragon’s blood] was previously used in varnishes and lacquers, it was also thought to have medicinal properties hence the rarity of older trees. Our bloodlust satisfied we walked back to Alajero noticing on route a yellow flowering succulent, we had not seen many flowers so must come in Spring when apparently they are profuse.We eventually caught a bus back to the coast and enjoyed a coffee on the sea front.

The evening meal in Bar Playa was enlivened by a group of local musicians and singers initially entertaining us outside and then in the cramped little bar. Rousing local songs were clapped to, the owner was whisked away dancing  and more wine was consumed by all. The drummer balanced his excited little boy on the drum itself.  A lovely spontaneous happening. Wish I had my camera, these are from the phone.

Catch of the day  –  fried BURRO.

LA GOMERA – on the beach.

We were due for a rest day especially after yesterday. A lie in and a lazy morning was followed after lunch by a stroll across the headland to the recommended Playa del Medio. We passed the island’s only golf course and lots of banana plantations. The black beach was in a well sheltered bay, it turned out to be a nudist area, mainly Germans who like that sort of thing, ah well.

The sun was out so the water temperature of about 19degrees seemed pleasant for swimming and you air dried quickly, in the nude of course.

We had a bit more daylight to explore the main water front at Playa de Santiago. Lots of bars and apartments, a safe beach and a small marina. All from a different age – think art deco / hippie. A great place to sit outside a bar with a coffee and watch the world go by. This is the sunny and warm bit of the Island and you can see why Northern Europeans head here for Xmas.

In the evening we found a rather more upmarket [for us] restaurant frequented by sailing types. The posh catch of the day was BACALAO in pasta parcels.

LA GOMERA – over the top.

                           Looking back up Barranco de Guarimiar at the end of the day.

A long day of two halves.

It was still raining in the morning as we left Chipude up lanes towards the ‘Parque Natural’ in the centre of the island, Improved trails circled up to the top of Alto de Garajonay, 1487m.so all we had to do was walk heads down in the wind, there was nothing to see. A fire had destroyed a lot of vegetation in 2012 but already greenery was shooting up.We didn’t linger on the summit. Down hill we were still going round in circles to reach the head of a valley heading south to the coast. Now we walked out of the clouds into sunshine and better views.An awful lot of height was lost steeply to arrive in Imada next to the little bar where we ate lunch and had a coffee.Lanes out of the village took us into the Barranco de Guarimiar, we saw the only waste tipping we had encountered on our walks, someones front room! From then on the scenery was spectacular as we wound down the deep winding barranco on an old mule path which at times traversed steep cliff faces. I’m always amazed at the ingenuity of the early path makers, I am sure they would have laughed at the unnecessary ‘safety’ fencing of today.

I can see the sea.The vegetation changed as we  lost height towards the sea and arrived at scattered homesteads. It was a long and hot descent and the last couple of miles on road into Playa de Santiago had my feet feeling sore. It was with relief that we reached our lodgings in the higher part of town. SAM_6428Of course after baths and rests it was dark when we walked down to the attractive sea front to search for a cafe. A friendly family bar was found for catch of the day – CHERNE.

LA GOMERA – into the rain forest.

…well it was raining.

The day started off well, despite the rain, as we climbed out of a wonderful barranca through prickly pears, cacti and palms. We met a man who had been out harvesting prickly pears with some wooden tongs, I curse myself for not engaging him in more conversation and photo opportunities. At the top we crossed the main road through the island and proceeded into  ‘laurisilva’  forest which is supported in the subtropics by the presence of moisture from rain clouds. These are a common occurrence in the central mountains of La Gomera. The growth of mosses and lichens in the trees is encouraged by the mist. The forests were magical but there were no views today and the cafe halfway was closed!  We traversed small cultivated barrancas including an area full of tall palms ……and popped out at the hamlet of El Cercado. It felt a bit like Morecambe on a wet day. We gladly dried out in Bar Maria, served rather glumly by ?Maria. But the watercress soup was delicious as was the tortilla, despite the fact she tried to fiddle us with the bill. Soon we were across another barranca

to the highest island village of Chipude and the famous Bar Sonia, our bed for the night. The hostale was rather smart with good rooms, although our shower flooded the bathroom. Sonia and her mum were on hand in the bar and produced a great supper.

Catch of the day, probably from the freezer, was TUNA in a piquant sauce.

It rained all night.

LA GOMERA – high above the sea.

Blue sky was welcomed this morning for a high level circular walk on the northern coast.

Vallehermosa.

Vallehermosa.

As often happens the path to the cemetery took us out of town and through ‘allotments’ mainly growing potatoes, marrows.and unidentified fruits.

Papaya tree.

Papaya tree.

Then, in a wide hot valley, through palms, cacti, prickly pears, small drago trees, junipers and aloes. Scrambling up a river bed amongst canes. Zigzagging steeply in laurel forest to finally emerge onto a heather covered ridge. A veritable botanic journey.

Scattered Juniper.

Scattered Juniper.

Canes.

Canes.

Aloe and wild hillside.

Aloe and wild hillside.

We were now high above the coast at 800m with a little hamlet, Arguamul, 300m below us. What an isolated place.

Arguamul below.

Arguamul below.

Just along was a small hermitage/shrine where we ate lunch, admired the views and fed the bunch of stay cats.

Ermita Santa Clara and cats.

Ermita Santa Clara and cats.

With it being clear we could see as far as La Palma another volcanic island in the Canaries group. We strode out along the headland past another chapel and then the small hamlet of Chijere. Hereabouts the bare rock takes on many shades. From the final viewpoint at the end we had views of the coast and Tenerife and inland to Vallehermosa and the Roque Cano.

Roque Cano and Vallehermosa.

Roque Cano and Vallehermosa.

There was a steep knee-jarring descent down a ridge towards the coast. Once on the road we walked down to the little beach but the sea was too rough for a swim. We found little lanes past farmsteads under Roque Cano leading back to Vallehermosa.

Roque Cano from our balcony.

Roque Cano from our balcony.

We never seem to get back early so before you knew it we were heading out for supper. At least on La Gomera the restaurants kept sensible hours and you could eat relatively early.

Catch of the day  –  AMBERJACK. –  another tasty Atlantic fish.

LA GOMERA – a cliff, a view and a tooth.

Coming down for breakfast at 8 nobody was about in our hotel, but a bag of bread was hanging on the door. There was a small kitchen, with some supplies, attached to the rooms so we wondered whether it was a do it yourself job. We made a cup of coffee and pondered over the bread, at 8.30 we would use it. Thankfully the owner turned up at 8.29 and we had a good breakfast, he didn’t know how close he came to loosing his bread.

Our taxi driver dropped us off at the base of a high cliff and we queried the location. He just pointed upwards and drove off. Sure enough there was a small path to the rocks and then a wonderfully constructed zigzagging way directly up the cliff face for over 200m  – not for vertigo sufferers. The land at the top must have been important centuries ago or was the path used for escape from marauders?

A newly signed and improved track continued less steeply up to the Mirador del Abrante. This is a recently opened glass building overhanging the cliff with views  to Agulo 600m below and across to Tenerife. Again not for vertigo sufferers. The Fred Olsen company have financed it probably with an eye to their cruise ship customers.

From here we walked through a strange landscape of red dunes, unfortunately now in mist. Arriving at a road leading to a visitor centre we left a series of surreal red footprints from our muddy boots. A little cafe appeared in time for coffee.Onwards through woods and into yet another valley and lunch next to a pond with hungry ducks surrounding us. Onwards again along a ridge in intermittent mist until we saw the Roque Cano [the canine tooth] and dropped onto tracks traversing towards it.As we dropped towards the tooth it kept disappearing which was a shame as it was a big lump of rock.  Couldn’t wait for it to reappear so we dropped into Vallehermoso and through a park with interesting sculptures. Our hotel was comfortable and close to a good cafe for supper – catch of the day was CUTTLEFISH.

LA GOMERA – into the subtropics.

Above Hermigua we set off up a long valley under the shadow of a volcanic tower. There was water and tropical greenery everywhere, There is something about palm trees which sets the scene, cockerels crowing and tethered goats bleating added to it.. We were excited with the day and hardly noticed the steep climbing ahead. Quickly height was gained into the forest on the wonderful winding mule track heading towards a possibly impregnable wall of mountainside. Turns took us alongside a high narrow waterfall and onto a brief plateau.  Suddenly we had arrived at El Cedro and the Bar La Vista with great views back down to the NE coast. A longer break than we had planned saw us eating watercress soup with gofio [ground maize flour] from wooden bowls.sam_6049-e1419285273311Onwards we climbed into a brief laurel forest and up to a ridge walk flanked by tree heathers. To our left was a massive valley with abandoned terracing on the steep hillsides. Ahead were views to the coast way below. This is great walking with Tenerife and Mount Teide ahead! A little white hermitage is reached as we dropped down the ridge.  Lanes and steps take us down steeply towards Hermigua and eventually our quirky hotel. The evening’s meal was taken in a cafe further down the valley. Catch of the day  –  DORADO.

LA GOMERA … first footing.

We have arrived in San Sebastion, the capital of La Gomera. It seems a pleasant, almost colonial town. A tower from the 16th century remains from when the Spanish vanquished the native African population.tmp_SAM_5943-584480606

As a leisurely introduction we decided on a fairly short walk along the coastal headlands to the west, the nature of the walking on this Island was soon revealed as we switch-backed above the coast. The recently improved mule path was rough black Basalt, lined by cacti and small Dragon trees, which had just finished flowering.Crossing a few barrancos we descended to the deserted beach at Guancha. The little beach hut was unoccupied and we ignored the the trail to the shore as the waves were too high for swimming. Instead we extended the walk inland up to a col overlooking the next bay backed by a fertile valley and a few houses whose only access is by boat. The surrounding landscape exhibited some classic volcanic features, notably vents and dykes.The return involved more climbing than we had anticipated, we should have realised. There was a grandstand view of the ferries manoeuvering  into the port with Mt. Teide in the background. A swim from the town’s black beach completed the afternoon, water temperature about 19 degrees. This brief introduction had us excited about our future excursions.

Catch of the dayBONITO  – in a mother/daughter restaurant.