Tag Archives: mountain

Visitors’ parking, Bradley’s Camp

Thursday 18th November 2021, 9.20am (day 3,738)

Bradley's Camp view, 18/11/21

After eight days in a row in the house, a morning out — so I could have something stuck up my nose, and then be returned. Somebody, somewhere, thinks there’s a point to all this. (I will add that I had things stuck up my nose both before flying here, and on arrival, and have been in isolation since.)

The island has a verdant interior but the rim is very barren. Out by the airport sits “Bradley’s Camp”, a bunch of prefabs surrounded by barbed wire and personal security that is presumably where the local authorities stick the asylum seekers, people with a 0.0001% chance of having a currently fashionable communicable disease, and other undesirables. But at least it has parking facilities for visitors.

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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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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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Moel Famau summit

Saturday 19th June 2021, 11.40am (day 3,586)

Moel Famau summit, 19/6/21

Top of Flintshire, summit of the Clwydian Hills, Moel Famau appealed enough to the royalists of the early 19th century for them to begin building on it a tower to celebrate the Golden Jubilee of King George III. But this fervour clearly faded, and the construction was never finished. Nowadays it is just a place to rest after hauling oneself up to the 1,814 feet (554m) summit. But it looks good, and the view is magnificent. (For pictures of that, see my other blog.)

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Joe’s 49th Wainwright

Thursday 1st April 2021, 11.40am (day 3,507)

Joe and Pikeawassa, 1/4/21

Those nice people in Authority have promised not to threaten arrest for doing something as subversive as going on a walk, on one’s own, in countryside that doesn’t happen to reside within spitting distance of home. So Joe and I went out on a walk. I bagged my 600th Wainwright and Joe, his 50th. (Full details soon to be posted on my other blog.) Both those milestones came on Wether Hill, but that is a rather unphotogenic lump — Steel Knotts, its predecessor in each sequence, was rather better. It’s appeared before on the blog, too: pictured from a distance on 6/2/17.

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Barf, from Lord’s Seat

Friday 2nd October 2020, 10.55am (day 3,326)

The Lake District mountain that is Barf has a very silly name, but it is a rugged little beast and has a great view. Its summit has featured before, as some eight and a half years ago I was up there with the couple who’d brought their grandson’s Action Man along for the ride. With a weather forecast that is significantly deteriorating, I made the most of a chance to rebag it (and its two neighbours, Lord’s Seat and Whinlatter) today as part of my ongoing second Wainwright round. I’ll work some other day…. OK? Wouldn’t you?

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Loch Skeen

Friday 18th September 2020, 10.30am (day 3,312)

Loch Skeen, 18/9/20

The weather forecast today was such that it made one think — ‘Hmmm, better get out into the open air, before some pencil-pushing parasite with a job to make seem relevant decides I can no longer be trusted to do so.’  So I went out.  To Scotland, in fact: making this only the second non-English shot since the beginning of February.  It was worth the drive. This is Loch Skeen, near Moffat.

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Crossing Allt a’ Mhuillin

Saturday 20th July 2019, 2.20pm (day 2,886)

Crossing Allt a'Mhuillin, 20/7/19

Ben Nevis is a mountain of two sides, for sure. On the south side, a vast but rather dull slope up which hundreds toil daily; the payoff for climbing continuously for three hours being the chance to attain the status of Most Elevated Person in Great Britain, at 4,411 feet (or 1,345 metres). We secured this goal at 11.24am.

But going up that way doesn’t show you the other side, the North Face, with its stupendous crags and (after the tourist path) blissful sollitude. This is the connoisseur’s side of the mountain, the place where you can really look up and feel, yep: this is the culminating point of the whole country, it really doesn’t get any bigger than this.

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The River Nevis

Friday 19th July 2019, 8.05pm (day 2,885)

River Nevis, 19/7/19

The lump in the background is the lower slope of Ben Nevis, highest mountain in Great Britain and something I have decided it is past time I hauled myself up. Thus, it is tomorrow’s target for a walk. Here’s hoping for somewhat better weather than we had this evening — but it is forecast to be… wish me luck.

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On the road north of Dalvik

Sunday 7th July 2019, 3.15pm (day 2,873)

North of Dalvik, 7/7/19

Reykjavik was fun and — after the first 30 hours or so — sunny and quite warm, but what we saw there could, to be honest, have been seen anywhere. Time to get out in the wilds. This morning we flew to Akureyri in the north of Iceland, picked up a car and headed further north still, and on the road between Dalvik and Ólafsfjör∂ur, there came this scene. I tried hard to get all four things in the viewfinder — the sheep, the island of Hrisey to top left, the mountain, the waterfall; although one result is that this almost looks like I’ve taken the halves of two photos and mashed them together. But I still like it. This is what was hoped for…. Now all that is needed is some volcanic activity. But that stereotype can be sought out tomorrow.

I’ll tell you what though — of all the pictures I have taken in July, whether they appeared on this blog or not, this is definitely the coldest. I would say it was about 5ºC at this point and virtually sleeting. The sheep must be used to it, I guess: they look contented enough.

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