Category Archives: Landscape

The bigger picture

Tuesday 16th November 2021, 1.15pm (day 3,736)

Hillside Villa view, 16/11/21

OK, it’s time to do the main panorama from my place of incarceration. The movie director in my head would still prefer to wait for the lighting to be just so, but to be honest, breaks in the cloud have been rare this last week — indeed, as I type this on Wednesday morning, it’s raining heavily and none of this can be seen at all.

To the left, Ladder Hill, depicted in close up a few days ago. Below it, tucked in its valley, Jamestown, the capital and one of the few places on the island where one can actually land a boat. To the right, Rupert’s Valley, more industrial (i think those are fuel pipelines visible) — between them, Munden’s Hill. All to be more intimately explored at a later date. In the direction shown, the next land is, I calculate, the Ivory Coast, or perhaps Ghana, at least 1,800 miles away.

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Ladder Hill, from afar

Saturday 13th November 2021, 12.30pm (day 3,733)

Ladder Hill, 13/11/21

Sunshine has actually been at a premium thus far, and I’ve been waiting to give you more of the panorama from my place of incarceration until the light gets better. But a burst of it after lunch did today illuminate the distant Ladder Hill. So named as it is the top of Jacob’s Ladder, visible heading down to the right — an infamous 700-step climb up from Jamestown below. People run up this for fun, so I’ve been told. Rest assured that once I get out of here, I shall not be joining them.

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The mast, in autumn

Wednesday 3rd November 2021, 12 noon (day 3,723)

Mobile mast, autumn, 3/11/21

Hebden Bridge in autumn plumage. A nice place to be. Cold at the moment, though, but the trees look good.

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A burned bit of Iceland (not the UK!)

Sunday 10th October 2021, 2.40pm (day 3,699)

Iceland view, 10/10/21

Yes folks, after 615 consecutive days on the island of Great Britain, I have finally left it. It was February 2nd 2020, in Bucharest, that this blog last featured anywhere outside England, Scotland or Wales. You know the reasons why. And yes, I appreciate travel can be seen as a privilege, and I’m grateful that I’ve finally broken the run, for all that the last 20 months have, at least at times, seen plenty of interesting sights.

This is not my final destination: instead this was taken on my first descent, into Keflavik airport, where I and the family were last seen waiting out the 12-hour flight delay that EasyJet (never, ever again) subjected us to in July 2019. I changed planes here and moved on. You can tell it’s Iceland, though — only that island has random burned bits like this, huge lumps of volcanic cinder that just seem here to be a normal part of the landscape.

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Great Door, revisited

Wednesday 6th October 2021, 10.15am (day 3,695)

Great Door, revisited, 6/10/21

A long time ago, in the first few days of this blog on day 8, I was halfway up the southern butt end of the mountain of Yewbarrow, in Wasdale in the Lake District, in quite foul weather, wondering what the hell I was doing there. The view I posted there, of the dramatic rocky gash of Great Door, gives an indication of the conditions I faced.

Today, ten years, one month and four days later, I returned. The weather was much nicer. But the climb up to this point is still an absolute arse. For its height I would say Yewbarrow is the toughest of all the fells in the Lake District — but as it’s now done twice, I never, ever, have to haul myself up it again. And that’s a very good thing. (See my Wainwrights blog for more.)

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The City of London

Friday 24th September 2021, 5.15pm (day 3,683)

City of London, 24/9/21

Down (or is it up) to London, just for the day. My hotel room had a fine view of the city, and I took several photos of it as the sun went down. This one was fairly early in the sequence but going monochrome seemed to please Clare, who chose this one as her favourite.

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Scene on the way home

Monday 13th September 2021, 9.55am (day 3,672)

Near Biggar, 13/9/21

Spent most of the day until 2.30pm behind the wheel, and the rest sat at home recovering from the first part of the day. But this scene did cause me to pause on the way home, on the A702 just north of Biggar, in southern Scotland. I’m not sure I’ve quite captured the sunbeam effect, but I did my best.

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Calderdale Way, leg 5

Sunday 5th September 2021, 10.55am (day 3,664)

Calderdale Way, 5/9/21

That path snaking up this hillside on the south edge of Halifax is part of the Calderdale Way, round which Clare and I (and Joe, today) continue to perambulate, when we can. July 11th was the last time we managed some but the weather on this Sunday was too good to ignore: one of those days which proves that on average, if you want really good and reliable weather in this country, come in September.

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View from Faulds Brow summit

Friday 27th August 2021, 1.40pm (day 3,655)

A Wainwright walk: the last of my summer holiday. (See my other blog for the technicalities.) A struggle with pre-holiday-weekend traffic that I should have anticipated, and a long journey for what was a couple of hours of light exercise. But the views from the summit of Faulds Brow were very fine. Here, the direction is north-west, the city in the background, Carlisle.

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A field of battle

Sunday 22nd August 2021, 12.20pm (day 3,650)

Battle of Hastings field, 22/8/21

It’s just a field, home these days to a number of sheep (two of whom were a source of great interest to the visitor at the bottom of the pic). But on October 14th 1066, around 7,000 men were slaughtered here in one day at the Battle of Hastings, and the victor, Duke William of Normandy, instituted a regime that, basically, continues to rule the island of Great Britain into the present time. (One wonders how different human history might have been if the two antagonists, neither of whom had a particularly direct claim to the throne of England, had just cut cards for the privileged, or agreed to do six months a year each.)

It is understandable that the tourists would want to come and see the place — as we did on this pleasant, bright Sunday. But I guess the import of what happened on this spot 956 years ago, the scale of the death and mayhem, will never be fully apparent. These days we walk round and take our pictures and listen to the soothing tones of the ‘audio guide’ and then go and have lunch in the nearby pub. Battle is worth a visit though, whether you are English or not.

Note also — it’s day 3,650. But thanks to three leap years having interspersed themselves over the last decade, I am not quite at the point where I have completed 10 years of this blog. I assume I will make it to Wednesday, though.

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