Ann and Jim meet Paul

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Ann ventures into the Yare, enticed by a dreadful compulsion
Ann ventures into the Yare, enticed by a dreadful compulsion

My cousin Ann and her husband Jim from Liverpool have been with us since Monday. They arrived at about 1pm, roughly ten hours before Dot got back from her successful P4C visit to Essex and Kent. I’ve been feeling pretty mediocre, but no problem in carrying on – not that we’ve done much. They seem very happy to do a minimal amount, but perhaps that’s not surprising , as they’re 75 and 87 respectively. Suits me! I have booked a urology consultation at Cromer in November.

On Tuesday we went round to see Paul, but he was out; so we drove on to Earlham Park, where we had an ice cream after sitting by the river bank. Ann actually paddled in the Yare  for a while, as she can’t resist water, apparently. The situation would have been idyllic had it not been for a number of rather ugly dogs and their owners frolicking in the vicinity.

Later I walked down to the Rivergarden pub at Thorpe for the launch of Trevor Nuthall’s new history of Thorpe St Andrew. He gave a nice talk, and the book turns out to have a lot of information on Thorpe Hall, a former Paston seat – which is what I had hoped. Also present were EDP photographer Denise Bradley, unbelievably a grandmother now, and Nick Williams from St Peter Hungate. Among others.

On Wednesday all four of us walked up to the Castle, hoping to see the Birds exhibition, only to discover that it had just finished. So we looked round generally, had a light lunch and bumped into Caroline and her two brothers. Some drama as a woman collapsed in the cafe. I overheard a member of staff observe that the person dealing with it had two speeds: stop and slow. It did seem to be a long time before she was dealt with.

Dot left early to do some work at home, and I took Ann and Jim round the pretty way over the Julian Bridge – “pretty” being a totally inapt description of the approaches to it, which are still in a disgusting state.

Yesterday we did manage to find Paul in – I had phoned to fix an appointment the day before, but he didn’t respond to our ringing the bell and knocking until I phoned him from outside, and he still claimed not to be able to see us from the bedroom window. However, once he came down we had a good chat for about 45 minutes; so it was worth while.

Earlier we had gone with Dot to Whitlingham, where we had a short walk and then a snack from the cafe. It was very hot again, but once more the setting was spoiled by a huge number of dogs, many of them just as ugly as the ones at Earlham.  Dot walked part of the way home as part of her exercise, and the rest of us continued to Paul’s.

In the evening we went to Oaklands for a carvery, which was a bit of a curate’s egg. Possibly 5pm is not a good time to catch the food right. Coincidentally (or not) I had diarrhoea during the evening, but that could have been a plum that had gone off. I also wrote most of my sermon for Sunday.

Today I went for a blood test, and experienced a world record, in that it was early. That just never happens. Dot then went to give Sam and Jessica Vesey some P4C experience as part of their home schooling: I was due to go to the UEA with Rob, but Karen was unwell; so it was postponed. Instead I took Ann and Jim for a ride on the route they will have to take to reach the A11 tomorrow and then dropped them in the city. They still have not found their way home. Dot is in the city with Anne. I am due to go to Halesworth this evening to read some poetry.

Small giraffe thrown in

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High water at the Linn of Quoich
High water at the Linn of Quoich

The Lavenham excursion turned out to be particularly interesting. It was basically a private view by sculptor Kate Denton, who is a former Eltham College parent and who now lives in a house with huge grounds behind the church at Lavenham. The sculptures, some of which populated the gardens, were actually brilliant and equally actually hugely expensive. I cannot say how much Maryta spent on one she had set her heart on, but there was a small giraffe thrown in. I was impressed by Kate, who remembered my name as she said goodbye. It doesn’t take much…

We followed up this delight with another one, calling in at Nayland to see Maryta’s sister Terry and her husband Keith. They had recently taken delivery of an Aga for roughly the same outlay as Maryta’s sculpture. Where are we going wrong? Anyway, the tea and refreshments were lovely, and so were the hosts.

The following day (Saturday) we set off for Caddington for a late celebration of Oliver’s 12th birthday. Dot had baked a cake because she knew she was going. We had a lovely day, playing games (including one Amy had invented, and continued inventing as we played it). She is very clever at this kind of thing, and the game proved very playable and fun. We helped provide the food for lunch, and in the evening David cooked an excellent spaghetti bolognaise.  On the way home I detected that Dot was about to go to sleep while driving and took over at Thetford.

On Sunday after Communion, at which I sang my new song, Dot and I invigilated at the old church, which was open for Heritage Weekend. If I were to say we had few visitors during our hour, that would be pretty much spot on. However, we did have the guy who was supposed to have been invigilating the previous hour but got it wrong. Other than that, four, but Norwich Heart had admittedly forgotten to include it in their list of Norwich churches that were open – much to Stuart’s disgust.

Afterwards we went out to Norwich and visited the cemetery and a house that has just come on to the market and caught Dot’s eye. Quite nice, actually. Jessie was unfortunately out, but we left her a present from Scotland (Ecclefechan cakes). In the evening Dot left for Barbara’s, where she stayed the night, before they both headed south this morning for Rayleigh and then Canterbury for two P4C sessions. At least, I presume they did. I haven’t heard anything.

Meanwhile I have done some shopping and am awaiting the arrival of my cousin Ann and her husband Jim, who are presumably on the road from Surrey, where they spent the weekend.

Oliver hits a dozen

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When I dropped in at St Peter Hungate yesterday – it was open as part of the annual Heritage celebrations – someone asked if it was a special day, since people seemed to be celebrating. I quickly pointed out that it was my grandson’s birthday, than which you can hardly get more special. Oliver is 12, and a student of Sir Henry Floyd Grammar School at Aylesbury. We spoke to him on Facetime this evening. He seems to be having a good time. Will make further checks tomorrow.

Hungate had an exhibition about the first world war which was small enough to be both accessible and moving.  It also had trustee Carol Hardman, who turned out to be a friend of Rob Knee’s and a bit of an enthusiast. So that was good.

I had dropped in after dropping out of Elizabeth McDonald’s Paston lecture at the Maid’s Head, mainly because I couldn’t hear it and partly because I’d heard it before. I dropped back in at the end and chatted to her. The hotel had not served her well by putting her in a room that was too small for the impressive turnout and not providing her with a microphone. The audience drifted into the vestibule and showed commendable persistence in sticking with it.

In a slightly less popular event, we held our monthly cake and compline with the Archers, Vicky and Judy at Number 22. We also invited Vicky Lenton, but that was a mistake. Those e-mail addresses can get you into an awful lot of trouble. I could have invited someone I hardly know who actually turned up, for instance. As it was the usual suspects ate some cake that Dot had baked and pronounced it very good.

Going back in time, last Sunday saw us at St Augustine’s, with me leading the service and Dot doing the intercessions. Seemed a long time since we’d been there. As usual the congregation doubled the moment the clock struck 11. In the evening Dot and I went to the Seagull to hear James Knox Whittet and others. I read four poems, and Dot got into conversation with Anne KW, telling her about Oxnead. As a result I invited them, but they were unable to come. However James wants to be involved with Chronicle, so that’s all good.

On Monday we had the usual poor turnout at the DCC meeting, with only Nicholas, Howard, Ian, Dot and I attending. I gave a financial report: a crucial issue s was left unresolved because of the small turnout, but there you go. Nicholas’ departure date is still up in the air, and the strain may be telling.

For some reason I can’t remember I had agreed to play chess on Tuesday, taking part in what is termed a 100-board match, but what is really ten ten-board rapid matches, in which a combined force of Norwich Dons and Broadland swamped a Norfolk and Norwich team at Langley Prep School, winning 61½-38½. I contributed a measly four points to our total, playing by far my best game in the first round against a strong junior and then gradually deteriorating in an interesting variety of ways. I am not really built for rapid chess, but at least they don’t grade it.

On Wednesday Chronicle had a dress rehearsal for Oxnead, and I reluctantly donned a long waistcoat and one or two other things. Painful. It emerged that Caroline is likely to be leaving to live in Cumbria – at least for a while – so the long-term future of the group hangs in the balance. On the plus side, James Knox Whittet may join us. But we need a woman. (Notice the restraint involved in my lack of comment there?)

Afterwards I went to see the doctor and as usual failed to communicate what exactly was wrong with me. Still, I am having numerous blood tests (or one blood test for numerous things) and may be referred to a urologist. I’m not sure that’s what’s required, but I can offer no alternative. My daily intake of Lansaprozole has been doubled, and I’m not sure about that either. On the plus side, my blood pressure is going in the right direction.

I am just back from an unsuccessful foray to the Guildhall to hear a talk on Norwich murderers. The organisers went one better than yesterday: this time it was full to capacity a quarter of an hour before it started. Planning a few additional murders, I went instead to Pull’s Ferry and saw the Watergate Room, which I thought was not normally open, but which is in fact open every weekend during summer. Interesting fact: the ferry closed in 1943; it was there because Bishop Bridge was originally open only to people visiting the Cathedral and its environs.

Meanwhile Dot has abandoned her cake-making to meet Sue Eagle in the city. Later we head for Lavenham with the Hendersons.

Journey into the past

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P1130050
A view from Killington Lake services on the way back from Scotland

The visit to Coventry went smoothly in reasonably warm and dry weather. I took the MX5 and quite enjoyed the experience, using the direct route and putting up with the road works on the A14. I arrived at the Premier Inn on Kenpas Highway at around 7pm and filled up at the BP station opposite. After a cup of tea, I decided to walk up the hill (further than I thought) and down Beanfield Avenue to where I used to live, more than 60 years ago.

Not much has changed except at the very bottom of the road, where some housing has been built and a fence blocks access to a school sports field, which used to be two green meadows ideal for playing in. You can still see the wood in the distance, and to my surprise I discovered that the rail track at the bottom of our garden is not only still there but functioning.

Returning to the hotel, I bought a sandwich, crisps and small bottle of wine from the petrol station M&S and ate it while watching England play rather badly against Norway. The room was quite small and a bit dark, but comfortable, and the receptionist was very friendly. Breakfast next morning came with East European efficiency and was at least a full English, if not brilliantly cooked. The tea was excellent, though.

I drove to Minster Lodge and arrived early for the meeting, though not before Elaine (his carer). Shortly afterwards we were joined by Matt, from Coventry Council’s financial department, and we spoke for about an hour, after which he said that it seemed clear to him that Andrew should get full funding under something called Section 117. But of course he has to refer to his manager, and so on. However, they have undertaken to pay for the past year – no strings – which is good.

Afterwards Andrew and I went out, and he showed me a really nice walk across the bridge and through some nice streets to Memorial Park, where we had coffee/tea and a scone and chocolate bun (both Andrew). We strolled back slowly, and at Helen’s suggestion I checked to see if he needed new trousers, deciding that he did. So when I got home I sent a cheque.

The journey back also went well after a brief stop at Morrisons to use the toilets and buy a sandwich, which I ate in a lay-by on the A14. I was home well before 4pm.

Yesterday Maryta rang as we were getting up to ask if she could pop in at 11am after delivering her friend Barbara to the station. We had drinks and quite a long chat before she left to meet Paul for lunch. He’s teaching on three days a week at Norwich School (not all day). In the course of our chat, we were invited to lunch at the Hendersons tonight, following the Coomes’ cancellation of their visit because of David’s badly bloodshot eye.

In the afternoon Dot and I went into the city to get my glasses fixed and to buy a few things for Oliver, who started senior school this week and who is 12 next week. We also went to the Forum to see a short film made by the Norfolk Wildlife Trust about the tidal surge at the end of last year. Some remarkable pictures, but apparently the coast, including the wildlife, has made a remarkable recovery. Which just goes to prove my theory that nature is much better at conservation than we are, and also knows when to make changes.

We arrived home just in time to have our hair cut, following which we ate half the chicken we had bought for the Coomes’ visit.

This morning Dot has gone to the chemist to get some pills she had forgotten to re-order, and I am back in front of my computer, slowly catching up as usual.

Here and (mainly) there

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Dot and Sue celebrate their conquest of the Cairnwell
Dot and Sue celebrate their conquest of the Cairnwell

The meal at Glen Lui last Friday was excellent, and a good way to end our holiday. The walk there and back was in quite steady rain, though. At the meal Dot spoke to a man from Yorkshire who was cycling in the hills, and we had a good conversation.

We left just before the 11am deadline on Saturday  and had a straightforward journey to Killington Lake, stopping briefly at Stirling services and at the Farm Shop at Tebay, as well as for lunch at Abington (steak and ale pie). Killington Lake had been given a bit of a makeover since last year, but unfortunately they had replaced the restaurant with a McDonald’s; so, like Lockerbie, no decent breakfast. Rather sad, and the room was a bit shabby too. It’s beginning to look as if Day’s Inn are going down a very American-style road, which means we shall have to go back to Premier Inn.

I drove the first part of the journey to Keynsham on Sunday, with no real problems until a much-heralded jam near Birmingham, where Dot spotted (and our satnav confirmed) a detour that looked very reasonable, involving part of the M54. It turned out very well, and we reached services on the M5 with no further problems. Big police presence here for no apparent reason. We had a lunch of sandwiches and continued south on the M5, Dot driving.

The first few miles from here were blighted by a 40mph speed limit (with cameras) that went on and on for no apparent reason. There were obviously roadworks in progress, but no-one was doing anything, and just about everyone was overtaking us. If the cameras were not in use, why didn’t they say so? This sort of thing makes me very angry.

We relied totally on the satnav to reach Dot’s accommodation in Keynsham, just south of Bristol, and the only time we went wrong (briefly) was when we ignored it. The room was in a rather basic pub: Barbara was already there. It wouldn’t have been my choice: the shower room looked awful. Still, it turned out OK apart from that.

I continued on my own (Dot was doing a P4C nearby the next morning, and she and Barbara were then travelling to Essex to do another one on the Tuesday). The satnav triumphed again, leading me on to the M4 near Chippenham, and the motorway turned out to be less fraught than I had anticipated. I stopped once for petrol and there was one minor hold-up near Reading, but this time I ignored – rightly – the suggested detour. Generally traffic was very heavy, but the only hold-up was in accessing the M25. Once on it, traffic moved well, and I reached Caddington in good time – just before Oliver, in fact. David had been retrieving the children from Vicky somewhere on the road to Aylesbury.

Had a lovely time with them, including an Indian takeaway, and then a good night’s sleep. They had to leave early the next morning for a familiarisation visit to Aylesbury (Oliver starts his new school today), and I set off for Norwich in wet and unappealing weather, which continued pretty much all the way, though it wasn’t quite so bad in Norfolk.

Felt pretty tired, but did a lot of unpacking and sorting out in the customary fashion. Then went to the chess club for a game with my old adversary Chris Tuffin in the club knockout tournament. I didn’t hold out a lot of hope, but did some preparation, looking at a couple of games he’d played in a line he favoured. He played the same line again, and I was able to play the first dozen moves or so without thinking much, following the ideas of his previous stronger opponent, who beat him in quite a short game. As anticipated, Chris deviated before the move where he’d made the big mistake before, and we got into a pretty level position, but at the time control he allowed a Queen exchange that gave me some advantage. I won a pawn and was able to convert the subsequent rook ending, helped by my advantage in time.

Still felt tired the next day, but caught up with a lot of admin stuff and did some washing. Dot rang to say both her sessions had gone well, and we arranged to meet at the Scole Inn at 3.20pm. This went according to plan, and we tried to drop off a shirt Roger had left at Ballater, but they were out. So we proceeded home and after a while took Joy’s birthday presents round, spending a pleasant hour or so there. Sadly we discovered that Lucy is still quite ill: her mother is with her much of the time.

In the evening we finished watching a serial on television and went to bed quite early. This afternoon I head for Coventry for a meeting about Andrew’s finances.

Walking between the rain

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Crathie Kirk from the circular path yesterday
Crathie Kirk from the circular path yesterday

Mainly rainy weather for our final day in Ballater, but we managed a couple of walks – the first this morning down a path we had noticed leading off Golf Road and signposted to Old Line Road. As it turned out, this led on to the golf course, and we failed to find the continuation of it, eventually emerging through someone’s garden on to the riverside path. Further research from that end revealed another unknown path leading back on to the golf course but not including so much of it. And avoiding people’s gardens.

Following this discovery we returned to the main road, called at a holiday cottage for two and were shown round it (not bad), then found Larks Gallery open at last and bought two small items. We continued to the chemist, where I left Dot and returned home feeling very hot (too many clothes on). She meanwhile called in at the Deeside Inn, recently reopened under new management, and was quietly impressed. Maybe next time…

We drove down the South Deeside road to my favourite riverside spot with a view down the river to Morven. The river was quite high again, and it started raining, so we went back to the cottage for lunch, then drove to the Crathie-Gairnshiel road, where we took advantage of a small break in the clouds to walk a half mile or so down the hill track. We had intended to reach some ruins in the valley, but the sky was very ominous, so we turned back. But we probably could have made it – just.

After a bit of reading we returned home by the back road and are now in the process of packing – a slightly difficult process because Dot has two P4C events to take in before reaching home, and so she needs smart clothes to be available. We are also stopping tomorrow night at Killington Lake.  Before that however we have booked a final meal at the Glen Lui, scheduled for 7pm.

First time over the bridge

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P1130014There was still a black cloud hanging in the sky over towards Aboyne as we headed for Riverside Cottage – me for a repeat of the brownie with ice cream, Dot for mushroom soup followed by flapjack and ice cream. Obtained flyer to leave in the cottage here, then headed for Crathie, where we did a shortish walk out past the cemetery, over the suspension bridge (a first for us) and then back on the South Deeside road by the golf course.

It was warm. We headed up the Crathie-Gairnshiel road, intending to take a short walk down the hill track, but almost as soon as we stopped, another car pulled up beside us and a family of four headed out in the same direction. Not what I had in mind, and there were more threatening clouds building over Lochnagar, so we moved up the road a bit and read. Soon it started raining, and got heavy, with a fierce wind. I could see through the binoculars  the family down in the valley getting a soaking, and was glad I was not them.

Eventually they got back and we left for home, Dot driving (as she had been all day). Back in the house we had a meal of cheese, bread and fruit with a few little extras, and watched Life of Pi on blue-ray. A mysterious film, beautifully made. Then we went out for a walk in the town to lift our mileage to four a day this week in Dot’s case – almost four in mine. While she made for home I bought tea from the co-op.

Well warmer off the top

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Sheep in charge of a footbridge near the Well of Lecht
Sheep in charge of a footbridge near the Well of Lecht

The weather got gradually chillier during yesterday: still sunny enough, but with a sharp wind. So when we parked on the Lecht, after a lunch stop at the Log Cabin, we found it too cool to walk up along the ridge as planned and opted instead for a stroll down to the Well of Lecht in the valley. Pleasant enough, though alarming for the sheep. Rediscovered, having forgotten a number of times, that they mined iron and manganese there. Also found evidence of flooding of the river there recently, with grass knocked flat and tussocks uprooted. It’s quite a small stream really; evidence of really severe rain in the area is everywhere.

We parked up top and read for  a bit, but people kept stopping next to us (it was a nice spot), and eventually we drove home. In the evening we went to La Mangiatoia again.

This morning the promised rain arrived, together with the promised rise in temperature. Clouds are black as I write, but the sun has just popped through. Hooded crows are feeding on leftover bread in the garden.

Four-mile circle

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A pause by Loch Muick
A pause by Loch Muick

The Eagles left at 10.30 on Monday, and we took it easy for a while, buying a newspaper and writing postcards in the cafe on the corner. It was sunny and warm; so we decided to drive down to the loch. At first we intended to walk up the Capel Mounth path, but instead we did the four-mile circle (or more accurately rectangle) at the head of the loch. It was quite windy but not unpleasant, and it came as a shock to turn on the television in the evening, after our fish and chips, to discover that the cricket had been rained off in Bristol. Bristol had better sort itself out before we get there on Sunday.

Plenty of people about, and the machines were in the process of being replaced, so parking at the loch was free. On the minus side, there were tick warnings all over the place.

Yesterday we were slow to get started. No surprise there. It was warm again; eventually, and for no good reason, we had an early lunch at the Station restaurant (mushroom omelette and chips; croque monsieur), having bought a pie for supper. Oh well. Work on the bus station – converting it into a new co-op –  is proceeding remarkably quickly: today a massive lorry crane was in place, visible from miles away. By the evening it had departed.

In the afternoon we went to the Muir of Dinnet, stopping en route to look inside the old AA box, which has been converted into a mini-museum. We then walked to the Burn o’Vat, disturbing a photographer who was taking pains to get a picture of the waterfall from outside the cave entrance. Although the water level must have fallen a lot since last week, it was still the highest we had seen it. We told the photographer this, and he was dismissive. A Yorkshireman, I believe.

After looking round the new, improved visitor centre we walked down to Parkin’s Moss, a bog boardwalk that’s strangely seductive. Very quiet in the Muir, and after a while hot too; we were tired when we got back to the car park. So we called in at Crannach in its latest incarnation, which is Riverside Cottage – open for only a couple of weeks and run by a Glaswegian and his wife. Had a long talk about football and his hopes for Celtic, who sadly lost in the Champions’ League last night.

The food and tea were excellent. I had a warm brownie with raspberry ice cream, and Dot had a flapjack, after which we were replete in a big way. It was an incredible early evening; so we drove up to the Crathie-Gairnshiel road and parked to read in the sun. We both went for a short walk independently, and I ventured into the Invercauld Estate down the hill track. Had an amazing experience of silence: stood for a long time and just listened to the occasional bee or distant lamb.

Came home as the sun dipped behind a distant hill, then watched Celtic disintegrate and ate a small steak pie.

This morning it was sunny and warm again, and we decided to climb Craigendarroch, which we did in under 45 minutes as usual. Rang David on the top.

 

Drama at Linn of Quoich

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Dot and Roger in serious discussion on the bridge
Dot and Roger in serious discussion on the bridge

The Eagles have just left for Skye, generously providing us with the perfect opening sentence. Our sky is blue, and the temperature almost warm. Had a really good week with Sue and Roger, who are very much on our wavelength.

Yesterday was dry and a little warmer than it has been. We travelled to the Linn of Quoich in the Eagle car, which seems to have got over its tyre problem. Quite dramatic changes at Quoich Water, where the river has changed course and brought down trees and undergrowth. At one point we saw grass rolled up like a carpet beyond where the water normally reaches. A large tree was lodged under the bridge, and there was a notice warning that the upper footbridge had been washed away and some paths were no longer usable. Needless to say, the water was considerably higher than we had seen it before, but the level had clearly dropped from its peak ten days or so ago.

We spent some time there, but there were midges in the air, and we eventually retreated to Braemar, where we lunched in the Fife Arms.  I then thought it might be fun to go up the Cairnwell chairlift, and so it proved, Sue being particularly enthralled. Despite her asthma she managed to walk with us to the summit (3045 feet). It was a clear day; so the views were excellent.

We took the old road back into Braemar, then drove straight home, taking it easy for a while before our farewell meal at what was the Green Inn but is now an Indian fine dining restaurant. Very odd experience: the food was excellent, but the staff seemed quite hesitant and never got round to offering us dessert. Dot and I had sambuca, which was particularly hot and a peculiar blue colour. They seemed surprised we would want it.