Brock Barrow is only about 750 feet above sea level (228m for all you metric system users) but it has a good view, including of Coniston Water below. Nice cairn too. It becomes my 303rd Wainwright on my second round: 27 to go. Tell you what though, it was damn windy and cold up there, even if it doesn’t look it. I just about got my 202nd Wainwright walk in before a storm arrived at lunchtime.
After not finding much of interest in Southampton, I headed for the next city to the east, Portsmouth — a more agreeable spot. At least, to look at from across its Harbour, one of the greatest natural harbours in the world, and the explanation for why this has always been a naval base. The Spinnaker Tower, seen here, is 560 feet tall. I passed this point on my latest County Top walk, so feel free to look at that other blog for more photos and so on.
After five interior shots I had to get outside, the day being of the pleasant sort that might not recur too often before winter really hits. No trains, however — blame the government — so I had to conduct my wanderings somewhere nearer to home. Between Walsden and Bacup there lies a chunk of moorland that was previously unexplored, so I duly explored it. This shot is taken from very close to the Yorkshire/Lancashire border, but still just on the Yorkshire side.
The title of this post is not ironic: despite appearances, this place really is called Skiddaw Forest. I don’t know if other parts of the world use the word or its equivalent to describe places that are as vastly treeless as this is, but we English do pride ourselves on our sense of wry humour, do we not. (For more pictures of this and nearby places, see my Lake District walking blog.)
Flat land is at a premium in the valley, so round here, the recreation grounds are built high up: as with the Astleys, a set of one cricket and three football pitches above Sowerby Bridge. There are worse things to do on a Sunday morning.
Darrach Hill lies a short (but not easy) way north of the town of Kilsyth, in central Scotland. Ot becomes the fifty-ninth County Top that I have surmounted — and if you’re interested in that parallel project please do follow my other blog. The summit of this hill is only 1,171 feet/357m above sea level — sounds easy, right? Don’t you believe it. The crap that one has to negotiate to reach the summit fully justifies my use of the anatomical reference in the title of this post.
It’s not really the aurora of course. But the sunset tonight was doing a reasonable impression of it. The nights draw in….
August ends with a glorious evening. I certainy haven’t been among those who have complained about the weather this summer: bring it on, I say. In the distance, the northern bits of the town of Bury. Why there? It was just where the feet took me.
Despite being in the centre of the Netherlands, Wageningen does officially have a beach, and this cyclist was on her way there; it’s on one of the arms of the Rhine. I paid it a brief visit, but just to check it out — I do stilll have some work to do.
The last day in Ireland. Four days in the North, four photos with people in them, all taken in Derry — then four days in the Republic, four photos taken in different places and not a person to be seen (unless we count yesterday’s Madonna). Our drive back to Derry airport was partly done through the utterly empty landscapes of the Glenveeagh National Park. Lough Barra is in the middle of nowhere, but does have this slipway on it: maybe there is good fishing to be done there.
Being 42 