It’s not easy to categorise a post as both “Interior” and “Landscape” but I’m claiming it for this one. Farewell to Gibraltar, it’s been a decent few days and if things work out I will be returning at some point.
Gibraltar is my home for the next few days. I have been here once before, in 1991 — my “Inter-Rail Summer”, aged 21. Then, one could only enter the territory by walking across the airport runway, and this is still the case, as seen here. Presumably one gets a decent amount of notice before they close it, but let’s hope that one’s electric vehicle doesn’t run out of juice halfway across. The huge lump of limestone that is The Rock has always been a landmark, and a fortress, and the peninsula on which it and the city stands is now one of Britain’s last remaining outposts of Empire: an Overseas Territory that is sort of still part of Europe, only not. A gatepost to the Mediterranean beyond.
I was certainly enjoying the sunshine today — a glorious day. Whether the horse was or not, I can only speculate, but it looks contented enough. Taken towards the end of my first County Top walk for over two months: the houses in the background are part of the village of Huthwaite, the highest settlement in Nottinghamshire.
In 1960 the population of Dubai was 40,000. As of today it is more than 3.7 million, and continuing to rise at around 5% a year (all figures from Wikipedia). In order to accommodate them, the city is also growing physically. What you see here is not ‘desert’, it is large amounts of sand that have been poured into the Persian Gulf — land ‘reclaimed’ because the sea is not a form of terrain that can be bought and sold. Go to Google Maps and search for “Dubai Island Villas”; you’ll find it just offshore from the Al Hamriya Port, and you’re looking at a photograph of it, as of 24th February 2025.
Captured, perhaps obviously, a minute or so after take-off from DXB this afternoon. I was sat right over a wing again and only got this because of the plane’s considerable roll to the right for a few moments, so this was the last I saw of anything except clouds for the next seven hours. That’s the end of this trip, then, but it seems reasonably likely I will be back in Dubai at some point over the next 2-3 years. It will be interesting (but perhaps also a little depressing) to see what this view might look like in 2028, say.
We’re still not seeing a great deal of sunshine, and so this one was chosen mainly to demonstrate how the evenings are getting lighter, even down here in the valley. A place I am about to leave for a week: when I get back we should have sun at the front of the house again. Should it deign to shine.
I have absolutely no idea, for certain, whether this will be my last full day on St Helena or not. I have given up speculating, for if I don’t leave tomorrow as currently scheduled, I might succumb to despair. I tried to avoid this emotion today by going on a walk up to High Knoll Fort — appearing for the third time on this visit. This view is taken from inside, looking down through the battlements to the island’s secondary school on Francis Plain. What the code means, I have absolutely no idea either. One Exits Now? That would be good.
The island is generally good-looking, but perhaps I am getting used to the scenes in my usual haunts of Jamestown and Alarm Forest. Over on the other side of the central ridge, though, the less-frequented Sandy Bay area can still take the breath away. Lot and, on the further ridge, his Wife preside over a scene as fair as any you could name.
This was going to be my last evening on St Helena but I post this on Saturday morning already knowing the flight’s been postponed for at least 24 hours. “Bad weather” supposedly but I can’t say it seems that bad to me. So there’ll be one more picture from here, at least.
Was ‘at work’ ridiculously early this morning, at least by my standards. Francis Plain is the location of St Helena’s secondary school: that this view is taken across the nearby football pitch is not a further manifestation of my, perhaps, over-interest in that sport but just because that’s what the view is. On a generally dull day this was one of the few observed shafts of sunlight. Yes, the litter bin to bottom left does irritate, but otherwise, there are worse views to gee one up at 7.40am.
100 days to go until day 5,000. I guess I can keep it going until May 3rd.
I spent the day entirely in my accommodation, marking. Something I could have done at home (whether on a Sunday or otherwise). The options for a photo were of the garden at the flat, or its view, so let’s try the latter. I have a decent view at home, too… but the day was what it was. Anyway this is High Knoll Fort, or one end of it anyway: a significant St Helena landmark, visible from most of one half of the island, which is, of course, why they built it there.
St Helena sits in such a vast expanse of uninterrupted ocean that sea conditions can often have no direct relationship to what the weather is like locally. The atmosphere was calm today, a beautiful day of weather (in fact, all of them have been, since I came here, except for one bout of mild drizzle last Wednesday afternoon). But the sea…. that was a different story.
“Rollers” are the local name for waves driven by storms way to the north, like off Canada, or Florida, and which just roll down the ocean for thousands of miles until hitting this small lump of rock that happens to be in the way. On one day in February 1846 (see this page) the rollers were so intense that they took out half of Jamestown and about thirty moored vessels. They weren’t quite that bad this afternoon but still, it’s noticeable no one was parking their cars on the wharf.
Being 42 