Friday, May 20, 2016

2016-05-19 Thursday: leaving Ireland

Headlines

We Pack, Eat, Say Farewell and Fly
It's an Easy Flight to Dubai
It's an Easy Flight to Perth

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Stream of Consciousness

We Pack, Eat, Say Farewell and Fly

Pat makes porridge for breakfast. Interesting... We usually have milk and sugar with our porridge. I know that Scots will have salt. Terry and Pat have jam, no milk. Works for me! Then I keep eating... the last of their bread, as toast. (And the homemade marmalade is nice.)

We are packed, ready to go. There's rain, to make us sorry to leave Ireland :-)

We say our farewells, it's been good. And Pat takes us to the airport.

Pat drives us to the airport. She's flying to London, so is also going to the airport. Terry stays at home, to look after himself for a few days... With less bread than he may have anticipated.

The rain gets heavier. The motorway makes it a straight drive but there's quite a bit of traffic. As we arrive at the airport the rain is just a light shower... By the time we take off for Dubai -- the rain has cleared. Just a bit of rain to let us know that we really were in Ireland!

It's an Easy Flight to Dubai

For the two flights to get home, I've made sure that I'm in an aisle seat. Enough of being stuck in place by a stranger  in the outside seat! We find our seats -- and discover that I had managed find a set of just two seats! (So long ago, I have forgotten.) So Deb has a window and I have an aisle. Brilliant! Especially since the start of this leg has a view -- climbing out of Dublin -- that is worth seeing.

We're sitting quite near the back. Just a few rows forward of the rear toilets. All very convenient :-)

I read a few chapters of my new business book. Solve a couple of puzzles from a newspaper. Start reading The Three Body Problem on my tablet. Start a game on the plane's entertainment system. That locks up so I read some more. Deb listens to music and stories.

Takeoff was delayed but we arrive at Dubai with plenty of time to drink coffee, eat a snack bar, board the next plane.

It's an Easy Flight to Perth

Now we're in the air on our way home to Perth... very early morning Irish time, we've missed a good night's sleep. Early morning Dubai time, we changed planes a couple of hours after midnight. And late morning Perth time... My! How time flies :-)

We've eaten breakfast. We'll have lunch before arrival... And be home this evening.

And "this evening" will be Friday... We left Ireland after lunch on Thursday (the date of this journal entry) and will land in Perth late afternoon Friday.

And if there are no more entries... We're home, relaxing. (Or, more likely, taking it easy at the rogaine that we have entered, on the Saturday.)

It's been a great holiday!

Thank you for reading all about it :-)


====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"Today is your day ! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way."    — Dr. Seuss

Thursday, May 19, 2016

2016-05-18 Wednesday: With Terry and Pat in Wicklow

Headlines

Sleep Well (except for Deb), Sleep Late (except for Deb)
To Kilmacurragh Gardens! (again)
Lunch at Glendalough (and I confirm the pronunciation)
Home, Blog, Dinner...

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Stream of Consciousness

Sleep Well (except for Deb), Sleep Late (except for Deb)

We have a sound night's sleep. And when I say "we", I mean me. Deb has a bit of a restless night. And wakes up before me. Well, I wake up, make sympathetic sounds... then go back to sleep.

Breakfast: Pat makes pancakes, very nice. Terry introduces me to cinnamon sugar with maple syrup. We discuss possible ideas for the day...

To Kilmacurragh Gardens! (again)

We are driven to Kilmacurragh Gardens. It was once someone's house (or mansion!) and gardens. The house is in ruins, the gardens are being restored and rebuilt. It's very beautiful, lots of trees and flowers and green... I admire the general beauty. Deb and Terry and Pat discuss specifics of plant names and growing habits.

Gradually, it becomes familiar... When we pass a very peculiarly shaped tree root -- it looks like a weird animal -- I am convinced: we have been here before. Probably on out last visit to Ireland. My memory has it as less developed but it could be that our last visit was at a less growing time of year.

We stay for coffee. (And to photograph the public toilet building. But maybe I shouldn't mention that.) Terry speaks to some of the waitresses, to let us hear Wicklow accents. As opposed to Dublin or other Irish accents.

A friend of Pat's comes over to say hello. With my ear freshly attuned to accents I notice that the friend's Irish accent is somewhat stronger and harsher than Terry's. And, as Terry speaks with the friend -- his own accent gets stonger and harsher to match. A good example of standard social practice, to match speaking styles.

Lunch at Glendalough (and I confirm the pronunciation)

We have a bit of a driving tour of the Wicklow Mountains. And very pretty they are, too ! We follow the Clara River, then cross it. Past a house and church by the river, across a very narrow stone bridge. Up the hill on the far side -- the road is single lane amongst the woods. There are walks from here, through the woods. Tempting -- if we had a lot more time and a lot more remaining energy :-)

Back across that narrow bridge. In the middle of all these woods and fields and hills and valleys... a pharmaceutical company! It's a large place, though well hidden in the woods. Barely visible except that Terry drove into their front yard.

We drive on to Glendalough. It is familiar... in a funny way: As we drive in I think, maybe this could be vaguely familiar. As we drive away from Glendalough -- and away from the side road which leads to a house where we stayed, several years ago -- it is all much more familiar!

My theory is, going away from Glendalough we would have been starting out, making sure we were on the right road -- aware of where we were going. Coming back -- in the "unfamiliar" direction -- we would have been going home, familiar with that last stretch of road, not absorbing as much of what we were seeing. It's a theory!

We eat lunch in... whatever the place is called... at the main Glendalough carpark. Pat and Terry recommend the corned beef and the haddock and chips. Deb has corned beef, I have the fish & chips. All very nice.

Note to self: Now we also owe T&P a meal... or two... when they make it to Perth :-)

As we leave Glendalough I mention the suburb of Glendalough near our home. And -- having said the name several times today -- I confirm that the correct (or original) pronunciation is "glen-da-lock".

Home, Blog, Dinner...

We drive home. I spend some time writing yesterday's blog. We all four discuss deep and important matters. We eat dinner, sandwiches. Now... I am about up-to-date.

Tomorrow... Pat will take us to the airport. And we will be on our way home.

So far, so good :-)

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"Today is your day ! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way."    — Dr. Seuss

2016-05-17 Tuesday: West Wycombe to Ireland

Headlines

I Reinvent the Same Breakfast and Arrange to Print a Boarding Pass
Follow the Motorway to Birmingham Airport
Ryanair to Dublin: first class, of course :-)
If This is Tuesday -- You Must be Terry

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Stream of Consciousness

I Reinvent the Same Breakfast and Arrange to Print a Boarding Pass

Last night I checked in, online, to our Ryanair flight. Deb was reading the paper. She read out an article about "Hidden costs with Ryanair"... One cost is the £15 charged if you do not bring a printed copy of your boarding pass. Oops! We have a tablet -- but no printer...

This morning I wake up with the answer: I send an email to this hotel, the George and Dragon, with the boarding passes attached. Ask them to print it. I mention this to the breakfast waiter... done ! We now have printed boarding passes.

Yesterday I invented my own breakfast, a combination of items from the menu.  Today I asked for the same, and it was different. Not to worry -- still good :-) Scrambled eggs and bacon and a waffle and I add fresh fruit and yoghurt from the cereal course.

We pack up. Pay up. And leave.

Follow the Motorway to Birmingham Airport

Next stop: the car rental return at Birmingham airport. A lot of the drive is along a motorway... good fun :-) I spend a little time doing a ton, 100mph, along the motorway. No idea what the speed limit is... It's fun, the motorway makes it easy -- but still too fast for comfort.

For the last twenty miles we are looking for fuel. We are meant to return the car with a full tank. There's a service area -- but still 30 minutes from the airport, too far away.

There are no more fuel stops along the way.

Suddenly -- there's the car rental return ! Too late ! Okay, we could have spent half an hour searching a strange city for fuel... Too bad.

We drive into the Hertz car rental return. Follow the arrows painted on the road -- and are told that we turned the wrong way. As we drive back I check: No, we did not go the wrong way. The arrow definitely points to where we went.

The car is returned. All well... Except for the exorbitant extra charge for returning it with a less than full tank. Can't complain, I knew it was coming. But on the Hertz feedback survey, the exorbitant charge -- and lack of directions to the nearest fuel supply -- will get a mention.

Ryanair to Dublin: first class, of course :-)

We arrive at the airport with plenty of time to spare. Time for coffee before we can check-in our bags. And we do have bags...

We also have time to buy a book. I can't resist books :-) And at airports I get attracted to business books... So I buy a book about influencing people.

Payment is self-service. We get to the point of putting our card into the machine -- and find that it already contains someone else's Barclaycard! We give that card to the shop attendant and the rest -- our payment, that is -- is easy.

And we do have bags... Ryanair may be cheap. They also charge extra for each bag. A lot extra. I had added up the cost of tickets plus bags -- and paid for first class tickets... Well, "Biz Plus" I think it's called. The all-up cost is comparable to the total if we paid separately. Plus, there are some extras.

We walk the short path to Priority check-in. Our printed boarding passes are accepted -- but so faint that they need to be reprinted. No charge... It would have been £15 each if we had not had anything at all.

We wander round the airport then go through security to the boarding gates. Again, we walk straight through the Priority queue. Interesting: The priority queue is available to anyone, just buy your ticket from the machine at the security entrance.

There's a long and twisty path through duty free. One man -- clearly in a hurry -- is pointed the right way when the path wants everyone to follow through a few more "retail opportunities". A deliberate maze!

Our gate opens for boarding. We wait for the queue to get shorter, maybe forty people still lining up. I politely wave a group past us, feel free to queue up in front of us, I indicate... then casually wander down the empty priority lane, to instant boarding.

Ryanair encourage carry-on luggage rather than checked-in luggage in the hold. But if the plane is full -- you may be forced to check-in your "carry-on" luggage. (I wonder if you would then be charged the checked-in price?!) No worries for us, our pricier ticket guarantees that our carry-on luggage will stay with us.

We sit in the very front row of seats. Easy in, easy out. And with a comfortable amount of leg room! Apart from that, our seats are standard, our service is standard. (That is, none.)

For the safety demonstration, the hostess stands next to us to demonstrate the seat belt, the floaties, to point to the exits... you know the stuff. I comment to Deb, She is really getting into her role :-) The hostess' expression is locked in neutral. I think she catches my eye as I admire her performance... the hostess almost cracks a smile.

At Dublin airport... We're in a new country... I do have some momentary doubt: Have Ryanair landed us in the wrong country?! This is supposed to be Ireland -- and it is not raining! Out of the plane, a quick walk across the tarmac. A delay... Someone forgot to unlock the door. Tsk.

There's an enormous number of passengers queuing up for "EU" immigration. We smile as we stroll to our very short "non-EU" queue. The EU queue is almost clear as the first person in our queue tries to explain why they really should be allowed to enter the country. There are a couple more delays... then it's our turn.

I claim that we're only here for a couple of days. That we are visiting relatives. The immigration officer does a fine job of acting bored and disinterested. We are through.

Our bags are almost alone on the carousel... Are we last? Or are we the only people with luggage?! Customs barely spare us a glance as walk through the "nothing to declare" lane.

And Pat is waiting for us...

If This is Tuesday -- You Must be Terry

Terry and Pat have just arrived at the airport. Terry is waiting outside with the car. After a false start to the wrong floor, we are outside. Into the car. And away!

To Terry and Pat's place, where we dump our heavy gear. They have given us a nice room upstairs. We resist the urge to fall instantly asleep on the comfortable bed :-)

Downstairs. Swap wild stories of family and places and when we were here last. Terry and I have a rapid repartee challenge... of course no-one wins.

Terry and Pat have some business in Greystones, the nearest town. We go with them and walk around the town. Ending with an icecream. Deb thinks it's good, I think it's an icecream. Different levels of general liking for icecream :-)

Note to self: We owe five euros plus interest when Terry and Pat visit us in Perth. Terry provides five euros so we can treat ourselves to an icecream, or whatever. I'm trying to avoid gathering currency which will end up weighing down our pockets till we get home.

We enjoy a relaxing stroll round Greystones. We visited here, last time we were in Ireland. A lot is familiar, the harbour area is new.

The four of us return to the centre of town for a bit more strolling and shopping. Then it's back to Terry & Pat's place for dinner: a good roast beef dinner. I can tell it's beef... Despite my unrefined palate I can look at the Yorkshire puddings (which are amazingly light and tasty) and say, Yorkshire pudding means that this must be beef :-)

And that was Tuesday.

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"Today is your day ! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way."    — Dr. Seuss

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

2016-05-16 Monday: in the Chilterns

Headlines

I Invent My Own Breakfast
Shopping in High Wycombe
Hellfire Caves
Lunch with the Dashwoods
A Short Way in the Chilterns

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Stream of Consciousness

I Invent My Own Breakfast

Breakfast is all you can eat, fixed price. Neither of us is particularly hungry. Deb has cereal and fruit and yoghurt. I have waffles and berries and bacon and scrambled eggs, all together. Delicious.

Shopping in High Wycombe

We're in the tiny village of West Wycombe. High Wycombe is a town nearby. I'd read up on (High) Wycombe. Read about the gang battle in the street. The shooting on the dance floor. The exercise in anti-terrorism which supposedly turned up potential terrorists in the town and weapons in the woods.

We go to the Eden Shopping Centre, it's quite nice. We miss the carpark on the first try, I just do a U turn at the next roundabout. Then we drive up a spiral ramp -- round and round and round -- to get to the parking above the shopping level.

There are not too many shoppers, perhaps it's still early for the English shopper.

We go into a "man things" shop, full of clever and gimmicky stuff, much of which even Deb appreciates. I like the book called "Bike Porn"... It's full of pictures of push bikes: the gleamy, lightweight, high speed sort that cyclists drool over :-) We go into a bookshop and buy some children's books.

We look into a couple of other shops... then we're off again. The shops are different to the ones we're used to, the items for sale are a mixture of familiar and what on earth is that?! Even the carpark is easy -- now that we have a supply of English coins.

We drive back to West Wycombe. Do a bit of souvenir shopping. And on to Hellfire Caves... Which are amazing!

Hellfire Caves

There was a small cave, perhaps a chalk quarry, on a hillside. In the 1600s, the local lord helped the local peasants -- who were suffering from drought and failed crops -- by paying them to mine chalk. Not just dig it out -- but dig the mine in a pattern which the lord then used for club meetings.

The caves are a long, narrow, winding tunnel which occasionally opens up into large chambers. "Large" being the size of a small room. Except for one "banquet chamber" which would be five to ten metres across (I'm guessing) and three times that in height. The "club" was a group of rich and powerful men who gathered for debauchery... so they say... but no-one ever told stories. They met regularly. The AGM lasted a week...

It's a man-made cave. With fake stalagmites. A river (Styx ! ) which I think is a natural underground stream, diverted to suit. An amazing experience just to be in there. (The first paying visitors, in the 1950s, paid a shilling for entry and a candle... That would have been scary.) The history -- of the digging and of the restoration -- are a combination of eccentricitry and brilliance.

We enjoy the caves!

I also enjoy browsing some books for sale. One is a series of walks in the Chilterns, each walk passing at least one tea house :-) Another is called Hubbub, it's about the noise and filth and disease etc -- the down side -- of English life in the 1800s.

Lunch with the Dashwoods

We drive out of the village and stop at the first pub that we find, The Dashwood Arms. Share a fish finger baguette. The fingers seem to be freshly cooked! All very nice... including the very pretty (though chubby) waitress showing a sample of very deep cleavage.

A Short Way in the Chilterns

From the Dashwood we turn south -- on a random drive through country roads.

We're in the Chilterns, another officially declared "area of natural beauty". Rolling chalk hills, farms, fields, villages... Over lunch we read The Chilterns, a newsletter of the related conservation group. One article argued that the area had no specific theme, nothing recognisably unique. Just peace and beauty...

Deb suggests that they need a "Way"...  Then we find a map of the Chilterns Way, 134 miles of a loop walk track. Next visit... :-)

We drive through this beautiful, peaceful countryside. Past villages, each with a pub. I think, we could do a pub crawl here... It seems to my memory that that pub crawl concept is the traditional young gentleman's country outing, from "old" English books. The Chilterns newsletter suggested that walking along roads was the done thing... until the 1970s when the roads became too busy... which was a big incentive for development of all the public footpaths through fields.

We reach Henley-on-Thames, park by the river, photograph what looks like a good stretch of river for a regatta, drive on.

A pleasant drive home. Relax. I sleep a bit.

Dinner at home, at the George and Dragon.

Tomorrow, a relatively early start... We're off to Birmingham airport. To return the car then to catch a plane to Dublin. On on on !  Tomorrow :-)

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965
   

Monday, May 16, 2016

2016-05-16 Sunday: Making our Way to West Wycombe

Headlines

Breakfast in the Sun Room
Taxi and Train: Eastbourne to Winchester (again)
We Sample a Motorway Service Area
George and Dragon: our third miss is a lucky one

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Stream of Consciousness

Breakfast in the Sun Room

I'm not sure that I could ever get used to the English idea that is is good to deliberately sit in the sun. Especially not for eating a meal. Our table for breakfast is by the window. All available tables have some sun shining on them. Half way through breakfast -- and I'm dripping sweat. We draw some attention when I close the curtains...

Today, a lighter breakfast than usual: for my hot course I try omelette. It arrives -- too hot to eat! It's a fluffy omelette, no milk, French(?) style, very light. Very nice, too. With just the right amount of cheese.

We pack our cases -- I can put the heavy raincoats in a case rather than carry them in my backpack! I bring the cases downstairs. Ask for a taxi.

Taxi and Train: Eastbourne to Winchester (again)

The taxi is soon here. While we are walking downstairs, the driver and the b&b host have loaded our cases. We're off!

The taxi driver claims to have 50 relatives in Eastern Australia and will be visiting later this year. His first trip to Australia. His main concern is the 24 hour flight! Fair enough, too... I advise him to get an aisle seat.

From Google I had identified two possible ways to get from Eastbourne to Winchester: two trains, changing at Clapham Junction, or a bus / train / train combination keeping nearer the south coast. I ignored the bus option. We are at the station with plenty of time for the one-change option.

The ticket seller looks at that option, it came up first on her screen. Very expensive, she says. A few minutes searching and she comes up with a three-train option, taking about the same total time -- for just a bit over half the price. Sounds good to me... Are you both here? she asks. And we have just four minutes to get on our first train. Easy :-)

Eastbourne to Brighton: A few stations which seem to be suburbs of Eastbourne, connected by nonstop housing. Bigger gaps, fields and farms, stations for smaller villages. Views of the Downs, to the south... We recognise two communications towers that we walked past. Then it's Brighton... Rows and rows of terrace houses. Going on for miles. Not a very inspiring sight.

Brighton to Fratton: A comfortable 25 minutes to change trains. It's a big and busy station. A four-carriage train is waiting at our platform. Everyone suddenly moves further down the platform... Our train pulls up behind the parked train. It's an hour and a half to Fratton, past lots of small village stations. We're on the Portsmouth line, Fratton is a few stops earlier.

Fratton to Winchester:  A 25 minute wait, we have coffee. The next train will have a lunch trolley. Deb had made the mistake of waiting to use toilets at the station, on the grounds that they would be better, somehow, than toilets on the train. Wrong move! Toilets at the station are closed, "Due to vandalism".

We're on this third train for nearly an hour. There is no lunch trolley! The train is going to London, Waterloo... lunch may come after Winchester. At one stop we gain five more carriages, there are now ten in total. At the stop before Winchester passengers are told that they can only alight from the first four carriages, due to a short platform. A few people move briskly up the train.

And now -- we are back in Winchester. I check the GPS. Just over 1.1km to our car, left at the first b&b of our walk. We take a taxi. I say, to Giffard House, but can't remember the street name. Luckily the taxi driver knows Giffard House... We are soon there. Into our rental car. And... driving again...

We Sample a Motorway Service Area

As usual, Deb navigates. I loaded all accommodation into the GPS, Deb reads out the driving directions from the GPS. Even with a cold, Deb makes a good speaking-gps. And I can ask her to repeat if necessary.

We drive along the start of our walk. Then a familiar road that we followed to Rick Stein's. And soon, we are clear of Winchester. A few A roads, a few miles of Motorway, it's time for lunch.

Should we take a random road and find a random pub? No! We decide to eat lunch at a Motorway Service area! And it turns out to be a rather nice, clean, quite new, mini shopping area. We have a light lunch at Costas. Watch the interesting people pass by... A completely different demographic to the Downs villages. A wider mix with a more average average. And broader ethnic range. Also, completely different to home. (Including, that we have an even broader range of ethnic types. This service area is still relatively far from any major cities.)

Back on the Motorway. Past a short, slow spot, a three car accident. Off the motorway, avoid High Wycombe -- and arrive at West Wycombe.

George and Dragon: our third miss is a lucky one

We drive through the centre of the village, see the pub sign -- and can't see where to turn off. Out of the village, make a U turn, try again. We drive through the centre of the village, see the pub sign, turn off -- and various signs say, No Entry to the George & Dragon, and, Do Not Park Here.

Out of that driveway, back a bit -- and we turn into the only remaining possibility. It's a narrow opening -- through the building, the building goes over it. There are people sitting on the other side, eating and drinking -- but there are also cars, further away. We turn in, very carefully. Creep in, very carefully. Must have had a few centimetres clearance, not much more. The drinkers applaud! We breathe a sigh of relief... We're in the carpark.

Remember the "No entry" driveway? That's the easy and popular way in...

We go into the bar and ask where we go for our accommodation. The barman says, back outside and across the entrance archway. We go across. There is a private door, locked, and toilets. After some discussion, we try the barman again... Oh, accommodation! he says, I though you wanted the toilets!

Now we check in.

Our room is number one. At the end of a long, narrow, short passage. I duck every time I walk through. Our door is lower than me. (I'm not tall.) The room is -- generous :-) A four poster bed with a metre or two around it, on three sides. A large bathroom. Ceiling and walls have the Tudor-style white plaster supported by black wooden beams. The floor is somewhat wonky. An excellent room!

The only down side is that we are immediately above the kitchens. We can smell the roast of the day. (Later: Dinner is over. Our window is open to clear the air. No more smell.)

The George & Dragon is old, very old. (1600s?) And, as the sign out the front says, "Lovingly restored." Our room is large, old, clean and comfortable. The bar downstairs is neat and cosy. The outside looks very very old. All very nice :-) All very expensive.

We eat in. Deb has steak, I have chicken Cordon Bleu. Meals that would have been fancy twenty years ago... and are still excellent meals.

After dinner we walk up and down the village main street. What little there is of it :-)  Lots of old and interesting buildings. Lots of through traffic. We check the signs pointing to a couple of nearby tourist traps that we will check out tomorrow.

Hours later, the sun is still up. We are relaxing. Recovering. Feeling very comfortable.

====
Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
====

"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965
   

Sunday, May 15, 2016

2016-05-14 Saturday: walking Alfriston to Eastbourne

Headlines

A Short Cut -- and it Works !
An Unexpected White Horse
Lots of ups and Downs
We See the Sea -- and Keep on Walking
Eastbourne! The Pier! The End! (of the walk!)

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Stream of Consciousness

A Short Cut -- and it Works !

Remember yesterday, when we met a couple with a pram and children, battling nettles? (Did I even mention it?) Anyway, they are at breakfast. Makes me think that noisy children make for good memories but may be hard work at the time! Deb is able to watch another family with a baby. She enjoys that :-)

Deb and I both have waffles and bacon and maple syrup for breakfast. I add scrambled eggs. Delicious! Plus the usual cereal and fruit and yoghurt and toast and marmalade...

Our b&b is a large house... mansion... sitting at the top of a curving drive. It was built in the 1890s and has been rental accommodation for 30 or 40 years. An impressive building surrounded by a huge area of garden and grounds. Our room has an almost private area out the back, to sit and watch the sun set. (We hung some clothes out to air...) From the breakfast room we see a little bird and a grey squirrel. All very nice.

We set out by walking away from Alfriston. Where we left the Way was in Alfriston. Not to worry: we are following a short cut. I had noticed that one of the recommended pubs was the other side of the Way. So we go towards that pub to start our walk. And cut off a kilometre of so of the Way.

Along White Road, turn left at a bridleway. Through the river flood plains, across the river. Left then right -- and there is a marker for the South Downs Way. It's a stone marker, the first I've seen.

An Unexpected White Horse

From finding the Way near the river... we climb up a short but steep hill. Through fields and past cottages. Into a more open -- larger -- field. The track is almost level. We look over a hedge and see... a chalk horse!

On the hillside across a valley -- a white horse. Well drawn, too. Trotting across the slope. It may be quite new. It is not mentioned in the guide book. The best sort of chalk figure -- the unexpected one! And we have plenty of time to admire it, as we walk a few hundred metres beside that hedge.

Bang! Sounds like a shot! But it is a gas-powered bird scarer. It must include a motion detector: it seems to only fire when birds land. We see crows fly away in fright.

Lots of ups and Downs

Down into a valley. Up the other side, with steps. Through a forest, very nice. Down past farms and cottages. Up a lot of very steep stairs, still through forest. A named forest, I just can't remember the name.

Over a stone wall... Instead of a stile or a gate, the wall gets lower, low enough to step over. We're in a steep -- downhill -- open paddock. With a view of the Cuckmere Meander...

It's the last length of a river (the Cuckmere!) before it reaches the sea. Over thousands of years it's worn a very wide valley. Then taken to wriggling from side to side -- meandering -- across that valley. Of course someone dug a straight trench to stop the meander from being a swamp... There are moves to try and remove the straight trench. I read all about it... then we go down the hill.

At the bottom of the hill is a busy road. With buses to and from Eastbourne and Brighton, bringing people to the Cuckmere Meander. There's a large carpark with lots of parked cars. There's a farm / information centre / accommodation... and teahouse. We stop for coffee and flapjack. (Here, it's a sort of Anzac. A slab of oats plus butter plus syrup. Cooked.)

I like the hand printed note on a jar at the counter: People hate change, leave yours here and we'll take care of it. I still don't tip. It's just not right to tip... I say.

We See the Sea -- and Keep on Walking

At the end of the Meander is the sea. There are tracks leading towards the sea and over the hills. There are hundreds of people walking along the tracks!

This is obviously a good spot for casual hikers!

We follow hundreds of people. Some peel off towards the sea -- and a pebble beach at the mouth of the river. We follow the Way up the hill. Still with crowds of people.

I take a photo for a group of young Chinese(?) tourists. It looks as though a busload arrived this morning. There are lots of foreign speakers walking by. Plenty of English, too. Plenty of people!

We're now walking along the Seven Sisters. Which is a series of long hills, running across our path. So we follow the coastline -- at the top of the chalk cliffs, the sea edge of the Downs -- going up and down seven short, sharp hills. Tiring!

The temperature is also a bit lower than yesterday. The sun is shining but there is always a bit of a cold wind. Or, as Deb says, a bitterly cold wind.

There's a cafe -- but so many cars and people that we just walk on... after buying an icecream from a van. Lunch is muesli bars and such that we have accumulated in my backpack. Then more hours of walking along the edge of the Downs. With views inland and out to sea. With a very sudden drop between us and the sea!

Not that steep drops make me nervous... Hah! There's one spot where there are perhaps eight small crosses at the edge of the cliff. Hmmm. We keep clear of the edges.

Today is completely different to every other day of our walk. It's along a broad grassy area rather than tracks. There is the sea. And there are hundreds of other people.

Eastbourne! The Pier! The End! (of the walk!)

And now -- suddenly -- we see Eastbourne! It's still four kilometres away. We can see lots of buildings, one ugly tower block -- and the Eastbourne Pier.

There's still more than an hour of walking. Quite a lot of it along a track, halfway down the hill, away from most other people. Until... finally... we go down a final hill -- and have reached Eastbourne :-)

This is the official end of the Way ! Though our itinerary points us to the pier as the end... Doesn't matter, we want to go to the pier. Well, I want to, Deb is willing but also wants to sit down!

First, we find our b&b. Lighten our load. Walk the final walk... and reach the pier!

We have finished the South Downs Walk! One hundred miles, 160km, on foot. Seven days walking. Woohoo !!

We celebrate with a "Sussex tea" at the Victoria Cafe on the pier. It's a pretty poor tea, really. Well, the tea is good but the scone is average and the jam is bad. But the cafe is comfortably warm -- must be the first warm cafe that we've found in England! Poor food but a very satisfying celebration :-)

The pier is now owned by a sheikh. A "fake sheikh", according to the b&b owners. Whatever that means! He's not all bad though. He's called the pier... wait for it... Sheikh's Pier... rofl

We walk back a slightly different way, wondering where we stayed when we were last in Eastbourne. You'd think we'd remember, it was only forty years ago. (Back at the b&b I check google maps. And think I can identify where we stayed, within 50m or so. Deb agrees with me. So there!)

We also check out a place for dinner. The b&b gave us a "passport" with discounts at various places. And, presumably, kickbacks for the b&b. I said, On the walk I decided that I really want fish and chips! So they pointed us to a non-discout f&c shop. We go in, smell the deep frying fat and say, Table for two at seven o'clock please.

Back home. Shower and change. My hiking shirt may be binned rather than washed. It has a large tear across the back. Where the backpack rubs, where the tear is hidden by the backpack.

Deb showers first. Then I start. Deb has to come in, to explain the taps... There are instructions on the wall, which I can't read without my reading glasses. Even with my glasses -- the instructions make no sense. They seem to refer to a different tap system.

In the shower there are two containers of -- possibly -- shower gel. I can't read the labels. I use one which does create soapy foam. Does everyone else wear their reading glasses into the shower?! There will definitely be a rude post to the my3Rs blog...

Later, at the Holiday Inn Fish & Chip Shop...

Two cod (battered, deep fried) and chips. Excellently cooked ! With garden salad for Deb and mushy peas for me. More locally ethnic food :-) Banana split, shared, for dessert. Excellent, though could have done with more chocolate syrup.

We walk home. Feeling full, possibly from the fat overload. And well fed. A good meal -- nothing fancy, nothing Master Chef -- just a good meal, well cooked. And half the price of most of our holiday meals.

Sure, I couldn't stand fish & chips every night. But I've also grown sick and tired of good "fancy" food! I was really longing for something simple. Mmmmm... fish and chips :-)

Back home for coffee. With a bit of chocolate which the b&b has left -- with a feedback form :-)

Ahhhhh... relaxing.

With a train trip tomorrow, back to our rental car in Winchester. I know the time of our preferred train. Just need to get there on time to find where and how to buy tickets...

But that's for tomorrow.

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Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
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"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965
   

Saturday, May 14, 2016

2016-05-13 Friday: walking Kingston to Alfriston

Headlines

Breakfast with Marilyn: then taxi to ... Juggs Road
Good Views and Lamb Fix: but pollution to the north
Southease: village, church, bridge, railway and more!
The Masts We Could See from the Very Start
Skeet Shooters and Model Gliders
Out to Dinner with Another Babe

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Stream of Consciousness

Breakfast with Marilyn: then taxi to ... Juggs Road

It's been a hot and sweaty night. Deb and I took turns coughing and snorting. Lots of fun :-)

Breakfast... and we are not alone. We join Marilyn. She's an expatriate Englishwoman from the Dominican Republic. She spent a few months in Australia, years ago, with ... a male friend. She once refers to, My (pause for thought) second husband... She's very polite. For example, Would you be so kind as to pass the... whatever? Pleasant company, pleasant breakfast.

Our hostess is Alison. Friendly, cheerful. We get the impression that she's still getting the feel of this b&b business. Her husband grows orchids. We're told there are hundreds of orchids in the back yard.

Good Views and Lamb Fix: but pollution to the north

Alison calls for our taxi. We are driven back to Kingston. This driver asks, would we like to be dropped closer to the track? Yes please! we answer :-) So he drops us where Juggs Road stops being a steep rough road. We avoid the long and winding trek through the village.

It's a steep climb... of course! But there are views and lambs. Deb gets her lamb fix for the day :-) Onthe way up the hill we have couple of short but interesting conversations -- and my interpretations:

As we are adjusting packs, preparing to start walking, a man and dog pass by. You need a pack which will carry itself, he says. Later, he and his dog pass us, going home again. He looks straight ahead, makes no comment. My interpretation: An English gentleman needs a reason to open a conversation. Putting on an awkward backpack is good. Just passing? No excuse to impose...

Near the top of the hill there is a woman and dog. She throws a ball -- into the long grass ! -- and the dog finds it and fetches it. Actually brings the ball back to be thrown again. Enjoying the game :-) I guess, Springer Spaniel. Deb says, too small for a Springer. We're both right. We all meet at a gate and I ask about the dog. It's a Springer Spaniel -- but very small for the breed.

We exchange a few more words with the dog owner. Amongst other things she says that she lives in Kingston. And I'm sure she then mutters, Next thing, I'll be telling you my address... My interpretation: Either she's a single woman living alone, or there's a high rate of targetted crime, or I misheard :-) Probably just as well that I didn't reply, Well the hill walking certainly keeps you in good shape.

And after that, there's a lot of walking across the top of the Downs. Less other hikers, as we get out of easy reach of the village. And good views!

The weather has cleared and we can see for miles. And very pretty it is, too :-) With no hedges to block the views. Just wire fences and large paddocks.

The distance is still misty. And the mist to the north is distinctly brown. Pollution. Yuk.

Southease: village, church, bridge, railway and more!

We follow the top of the Downs for a long way. Then go downhill towards Southease. It's a village so small that the road to the village is a no through road.

Interesting: the chuch has a round tower! I can only remember square towers on other village churches.

Through the village. Across a "Weak bridge" over the River Ouse. I suppose that a brave motorist could try it... The river is a deep and regular channel with muddy banks. Perhaps it's been dredged? the bridge may be weak but it has been braced -- on either side -- by pontoon-like extensions. Well, pontoon-like in that there are solid, vertical wooden structures connected horizontally to the bridge, out to either side like pontoons on a canoe.

There's a railway line, and the Southease station. If a vehicle needs to cross the railway line, the driver phones a controller, who will remotely raise the boom gates.

Then we cross the wooden -- new and quite fancy -- footbridge over a busy A road. After which... we climb a very long and very steep hillside. Past many cows and calves and a few ewes and lambs. Up, again, to the top of the Downs. There's a lot of uphill. Then a lot more level (with good views all the way).

The Masts We Could See from the Very Start

We reach a pair of communication masts. We could see them at the start of today's walk... it has taken us till lunch-time to get here. The walk so far, has been a very broad curve. We're now about half way to Alfriston.

And yes, we are sure that we are about half way. We checked -- and double-checked -- today's distance. In the guide book, not on the tour company's itinerary.

Skeet Shooters and Model Gliders

Of interest after lunch:

It's mostly a long, almost straight walk, across the top. So no severe ups nor downs. There are views to the north, to what Deb tells me are the Weald and the Northern Downs.

There's the constant, distant sound of gunfire. It stops. A bit later, four cars drive past us, next to the walk track: Range Rover, Porsche Cayenne, Range Rover, Landrover. Each with a driver and a gentleman in a tweed suit. Followed -- at a respectful distance -- by a simpler model Landrover towing a trailer loaded with skeet shooting gear.

Would all this somehow relate to an earlier sign, "Stine Estate. No metal detecting" ?? Perhaps people would go metal detecting for ... some by-product of skeet shooting?! Oh, and do I mean skeet shooting or clay pigeon shooting, or are they the same? So much I need to know!

Over lunch we had seen gliders. Now we see them closer -- and they are model gliders.Three metre wingspan. Half a dozen flying and a couple more being prepared. Amazing! Deb asks, Would I like to fly one? No, I think. Or perhaps a couple of times (till I crashed beyond repair :-) but not as a regular hobby. Give me a real light plane that I can sit in, with an engine :-)

We watch one being launched. Hold above head, run forward ten or so steps, throw ! And there is one -- just one -- that is into aerobatics. We watch it loop (wow!) then roll. It wiggle-waggles its wings. Dives at speed... Then we are out of sight.

Out to Dinner with Another Babe

After that... More views, more fine weather, more walking. Very pleasant. Downhill but not too steep, into Alfriston. Through the village -- and another kilometre to our b&b. And it's very nice... We just wish it were closer to the village... or, at least, closer to an inn. Oh well.

Deb is really, really tired. As usual, she just keeps on walking. But she is now tired enough that she actually mentions that she is tired. So we wish that we could eat closer than the village. But... :-(

The way to the village follows a road. The footpath is overgrown, with nettles along the edges. In shorts, I am very careful. We pass a young couple with two children, one in a stroller. The father goes first, bashing down as many nettles as he can. Poor fellow is in shorts.

Going to dinner, we are both wearing long pants and long sleeves. Deb still manages to get a minor nettle sting on one hand :-(

We go to the nearest food place... but they don't serve till 6:30, half an hour from now. We can't wait that long! So we have to walk to the village.

Sure, it's "only" a kilometre. But... sigh.

Now we have the difficulty of eating in a village: choice! We look at one pub. It seems good. It's the most expensive in town. We go across the road to a "smugglers" inn. It looks okay -- but there are no spare tables! Back to the first...

The George Inn... pricey but looks good. And they have a table for us. (It's Friday night. A busy night.)

Interesting: There are a few people, very few, looking dressed up. One couple, the woman is dressed up, just a bit, the man is in shorts and casual shoes. They are drinking -- and playing cards. At the bar is a group of people wearing casual clothes. And some torn jeans, just back from outdoor work, sort of clothes. With dogs, of course :-) Talking about finding a new track to walk along, leading to old trees which have been dated at however many years old they are. (Probably hundreds of years.) A thoroughly eclectic (?) mix of people, in the fanciest inn / restaurant in town.

Our food arrives. Salmon, lamb. And it looks like real meals! A bit of fancy stacking, some fancy vegetable preparation. But the first impression is, This is dinner ! Too many of our previous meals have made me think, Okay, very Master Chef. But is there a real meal in there? Today's meals, we can see the main ingredient. We can see that there are enough vegies and enough potato to fill the stomach. Each one is clearly an identifiable meal :-)

Dessert: we share a peanut paste and white chocolate cheesecake. Deeelicious!

Oh, and the waitress is a bit of a babe. But I don't mention this to Deb until we are on the way home. And, if necessary, I can make a quick escape :-)

Deb decides to go to sleep early. Good idea, she was asleep anyway. We've agreed times at which Deb is allowed to wake me up in the morning.

I'm almost up-to-date with this journal ! A final proof-read... and that's the end of another fine day on the Downs.

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Dr Nick Lethbridge / Agamedes Consulting
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"I feel that my enemy is anyone who would, given the power to do so, restrict individual liberty." … Chuck Pratt, 1965