Stratford upon Avon Christmas Lights

The Christmas lights in Stratford upon Avon look great this year. The local council put a lot of effort (and our money) into it, but they do create a festive scene.

Season's Greetings

"Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny &%$£@! Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse."

Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase), NATIONAL LAMPOONS CHRISTMAS VACATION. One of the best Christmas movies ever.

English Football

The poor performance of the English national football team is widely known - the word "shameful" comes to mind for many supporters. I can't help thinking that these guys could do a better job.

Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) Theatre Renovation

Living in the heart of Stratford upon Avon means that we can't escape the current £100+ million renovation of the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) Theatre. According to the official website documenting the work:

"The RSC’s ambition is to create the best theatre for Shakespeare in the world, a modern take on the courtyard theatres of Shakespeare’s day, with a thrust stage auditorium seating just over 1,030 people. The aim is to transform the relationship between artists and audiences, reducing the distance from the furthest seat to the stage from 29 to 15 metres."

The RSC claim that the theatre adds £57 million a year to the local economy. Judging by the number of foreign visitors that ask me how to get to it while I'm walking Hobbes during the summer months, I would be inclined to agree.

To ensure this income continues throughout almost five years of disruption, a smaller theatre in the town was considerably extended last year. It is called The Courtyard and it is situated about 250 yards from the existing theatre. The Courtyard contains an exact replica of the new "thrusting stage" that will be in the new theatre. We have watched a couple of plays there and it is excellent. The building may look like a rusty shed (the local nickname for the building due to the metal construction), but it's fantastic inside.

The RSC can't just knock down the building and start again because it is "listed", which means it can only be altered/renovated with strict condictions. It is largely disliked because it is rather ugly -- and, personally, I think the plans for the renovation aren't much better. I sympathise with the architects because they were obviously limited by the existing 1932 building and the many influential voices that influenced the design (Prince Charles is actively involved), but the end result is clearly a compromise. As you can see by the photograph above (taken from the website), the building will neither be old or modern, striking or functional. I'm hoping it looks/works better than it does on the plans because it is such an important international institution.

Wuthering Heights

Bravo, Chris, Bravo! An excellent performance of Wuthering Heights last night and you were great in the lead role of Heathcliff.

Lake District

Last weekend I ventured back into the Lake District with Richard and Mike to celebrate 15 years of climbing together. Sadly, mother nature didn't get the invite to our party and she decided to rain on our parade -- a lot.


It was a pretty wild Saturday, so we decided to do a short walk from Elterwater, over the ridge and down into the village of Grasmere, returning along the edge of the lake and over Loughrigg fell. Despite the lashing rain, it was uncharacteristically warm, which made for rather grim and sweaty conditions for stomping up these little hills. However, we were rewarded with quite dramatic winter scenes down the valleys.


Three men never looked so good in Gortex. Yeah, right.


We enjoyed an afternoon of drying off in the local pub, catching up on the various house renovations we all had planned or recently completed and exchanged stories about our fast growing brood of boys. This was in stark contrast to our first post-climb drink 15 years ago when we drank and sang for England, slept in a random field and then dined on a breakfast of pie and chips before summiting numerous 3000+ft peaks. Those days have long gone!

We spent the evening in Windermere, staying at a "world famous" B&B carefully chosen by Richard. We soon deduced that it was "world famous" for being freezing cold and decidedly grotty, made tolerable only by its proximity to the village. Sadly, the village of Windermere is also, in my opinion, the least attractive Lakeland has to offer, with only a couple of very rough pubs and a limited number of places to eat.

We spent a toasty night under every duvet and blanket the B&B had to offer (hard core climbers we are not) and survived the desperately sad life story of the proprietor, which was revealed over breakfast after subtle questioning by Mike.


Sunday was a very different day. Colder but brighter, the weather promised good views and the route guaranteed a hard, rewarding day of walking. We parked at Little Langdale and climbed Wetherlam, a somewhat isolated peak in the Langdale valley that stands 2,500ft high.


We had a day of clear views across to the Langdale Pikes and Pavey Ark, the Fairfield Horshoe, Swirlhow, a glimpse of Bow Fell and, 30 miles in the distance, the Yorkshire peaks should have been visible.


Unusually, trees lined the valleys and there was a sprinkling of tortured specimins around 1,500ft high. I don't know how they survive the high winds and hold onto the mountain in the thin, infertile soil, but they accentuate the rugged, glacial landscape.



The view from the summit of Wetherlam was great.



We chose our own descent, which proved hairy enough to keep our attention focused on the rocks tumbling beneath us into the gorge.



It was a magnificent anniversary of our 15 years in the mountains together. In all, the weekend had small reminders of the many, many glorious adventures we have enjoyed together in the mountains over the years; hard toil that earns spectacular views, dreadful weather that questions our intentions, fresh air and silence that can not be bought, eccentric local folk accentuated as the warm beer flows and, most importantly, the sense that for just a few fleeting moments we are free from our obligations, reliant only on each other and masters of our own journey.

Dead Man Walking

A colleague recently forwarded the details of a fascinating, but somewhat macabre, long distance walk in the North East of England. Called the "Lyke Wake Walk", it is a complete crossing of the North Yorkshire moors along the main east-west watershed, a distance of approximately 40 miles. Those that complete the walk in the alloted time receive the title of Dirger (as in the person who walks behind a coffin) or witch. For those so inclined to complete the walk more than once, the "dirger" will be bestowed with the title of Master of Misery or Doctor of Dolefulness.

I think this is a strong contender for a long summer weekend!

Meindl - forgiven, but not forgotten

During my summer walk from Stratford upon Avon to London, my trusty Meindl boots literally fell apart. They were among the best Meindl manufacture, so I was shocked that they only lasted 50+ days of walking in 5 years. Sadly, Meindl couldn't replace the boots "on route", so it was down to my friend from the US to save the day by lending me his own boots for the remainder of the walk.

When I returned home after the walk, I mailed the boots to Meindl in Germany for "assessment". I didn't hold out much hope. But, much to my surprise, four weeks later my boots returned -- completely repaired and with a new lease of life! Meindl had completely replaced the Vibram soles, cushioning and, most importantly, the heavy duty lining that molds the sole to the Goretex/leather upper of the boot. The repair had been completed with incredible craftsmanship (see my previous note on why I only buy German equipment where possible). I slipped the boots back on (new inners had also been supplied) and I felt the familiar hug of my trusty climbing boots -- but with the reinvigorated support of new soles. The repair had been completed for free.

So, it's fair to say that I'm really impressed with Meindl's response. As a company, they have reinforced my belief that they are among the finest makers of 3/4 season boots for mountains. They are much better, in my opinion that Zamberland or Scarpa (with the exception of expedition boots, of course). As I prepare to wax my boots again for an upcoming climb in the Lake District, I can honestly say that I forgive Meindl for letting me down. But forget? No.

Shocker!

Am I the only person in England who is shocked (and financially hurt) by the cost of petrol/diesel? It cost more than £70 (almost $150) to fill up my car this week -- I was so amazed, I couldn't help taking a photo. The chap behind me actually said "shocker isn't it!"

Paris, France

I always cringe when our good friends in America refer to "Paris, France", as though the person they are talking to will get confused with some other capital city called Paris. So it was much to my surprise when, upon searching the city on google, it threw back no less than 10 other cities in the US called Paris located in states such as Texas, Idaho, Kentucky and Illinois. So, please forgive me my previous transgression.

I was researching the city online because I visited briefly on Friday. Unfortunately, the French obsession with striking meant that I literally landed, battled my way to the office, presented for a couple of hours and battled my way back to the airport among 3 million Parisians who were trying to get home without the aid of the public transport system. And I missed breakfast and lunch.... typical Englishman abroad.



Like many other short-haul business travelers, I only saw the inside of the airport, taxi and office, but I would like to visit the city to look around. Who doesn't want to see the Eiffel Tower one day?

Time well spent in the gym

Cannes, France

One of the more glamorous places I visit each year due to my work is Cannes, France. In seven years I have never found the time to explore the town due to our busy schedule, but the daily walk along the croisette between our hotel and the Palais de Congress (where the Cannes film festival is held) is rather beautiful. The days are very long, but if I take the "glass half full" view, it means that I get to take some early morning shots of the bay.

Boo!

In an attempt to keep B's American heritage alive, we held a pumpkin carving party during Halloween.

The dads immediately did what dads do -- turned it into a competition -- and the kids did what kids do best at organized events -- played with something entirely different. I guess dogs also do what dogs do best too; Hobbes correctly identified the pumpkin for the edible foodstuff that is actually was. But fun was had by all and the end result looked sufficiently creepy on the doorstep.

September & October

In answer to the e-mails, no I haven't forgotten about this blog; the increasing demands of the real world have kept me away from the vitual one recently. And, to be honest, the lack of a digital camera has really hurt -- I hate not being able to shoot and post! A new one is on the Christmas list. Until then, I have to point the Leica in the general direction of the scene I want to photograph and hope I get it in the frame (the viewfinder is broken, so I can't see what I'm photographing).

In the past month or so, I have been working in Florida, Stamford Connecticut and New York, with frequent trips into London. It makes for long weeks, nevermind long days. K did manage to drag us out to the "Back to Backs" museum in Birmingham, which I would thoroughly recommend to anyone visiting the city. We also saw the Alvin Ailey Amercian contemporary dance theatre in Birmingham, which was (mainly) superb.

We also spent a day at VanFest, which was truly amazing! I have a closet love of classic VW campers; a love that is not shared by K, but one that is shared by thousands of other enthusiasts who gathered at Europe's largest festival for these cute bug-like things in deepest Gloucestershire. Some of these vans are incredible, such as those in the show 'n shine section. The "cooking in a camper" event was particularly funny. The price of these vans reflect the amount of work that has gone into restoring these '50's treasures; a prime example will cost around £35,000 ($70K!).

Listen to the podcast!

I was recently interviewed on the popular "Doing Stuff Outdoors" podcast. You can listen to it by clicking here.

DAY NINE: Kew Bridge to the Globe Theater

I couldn't wait to get going on the last day, even though this meant that I would finish earlier. It was 7am when I left Kew Bridge; the early morning sun took the chill off the night.


There was no one around, but the river was already quite busy with rowers. I suppose they have to be up early to take advantage of the river before it becomes a busy navigation through the city. There were also a couple of folks with metal detectors looking very pleased with whatever they had found under the mud that morning.



The entire 16 mile stretch to the finish was along the Thames Path, another long distance path. I didn't have a map for this section -- a mistake in hindsight, because the path actually weaved in and out of tiny London streets where access was denied on the river frontage. It took a considerable amount of time to work out how to get around obstacles, and I had to cross the river more than once to keep heading east.


I was also surprised by how many rural many stretches of the Thames Path there were, despite being in London. It's amazing what you find when you get out of the car!


I stopped for breakfast at Fulham Football Club. Their stadium is on the banks of the river. Luckily, there wasn't a match on today, otherwise it would have been a challenge dodging the crowds.


Many of the houses along the river have permanent flood defenses. I understand that flooding occurs quite frequently along this stretch, so the houses have waterproof gates and sealed glass frontages to keep the river water out. I guess it's only going to get worse, and we could all probably learn a thing or two from how these savvy home owners have kept the elements at bay. Of course, the best home in a flood -- a house boat!


There were also some good wall scribbles.



The vast majority of the banks are developed into fancy housing, but some industrial landmarks still remain, like the Battersea Power Station. This is also to be redeveloped soon.


If the first 14 miles of this section was notable because of how quiet the parks and path was, the last three miles was exceptional because of how busy it was. I walked past the London Eye, South Bank center, houses of parliament and the Museum of Modern Art. This entire area is awash with tourists. Again, it was strange -- but nice -- to be in such a crowded environment again.




As I approached the finish, I got a great surprise; dressed in "well done" T-shirts, I got a big pat on the back from Kate, B and my extended family. It was really great!


On the way home, I really couldn't believe that the months of training, planning and the days of walking had come to an end so quickly. It had been an incredible adventure. I had enjoyed every single minute of it. We had raised a bag of cash for a worthwhile charity in the process. It felt great.


Now, about the next walk......

TOTAL MILES WALKED: 158.69
TOTAL KM WALKED: 255.39
TOTAL STEPS: 290,431
TOTAL CALORIES: 13,746
TOTAL HOURS WALKED: 48.75hrs

DAY EIGHT: Iver to Kew Bridge

The start of this walk was horrible, the worst mile of the whole walk. Leaving Iver, it followed a series of small, heavily littered streets down to a scrap yard. A smelly little lane terminated at the base of a footbridge that crossed the iconic M25 motorway. I felt particularly sad because Kate had chosen to complete this stage of the walk with me -- what she saw in that first half hour was quite the opposite of the incredible beauty I had experienced for the previous 110 miles.



Over the noisy motorway, we entered into "Greater London". We passed a big sewage works, old empty factories and picked our way down to the Grand Union Canal. We would follow this road made of water (as they called it in the 1800's) right down to the Thames.



The canal was wider than the Oxford Union canal. I expect this was because of the heavy shipping that once traversed it. We also got an unexpected treat in terms of wildlife along the canal. We saw huge fish (can anyone tell me what it is?), heron's catching fish and, to our complete amazement, a terapin! I suppose someone decided that it had grown too big for their tank at home and set him free -- he was certainly doing well in relatively clean water of the canal.


If the wildlife was a pleasant surprise, so was the fruit! We picked a couple of pounds of delicious blackberries along the side of canal. Kate had turned my walk into a rather civilized affair, despite the industrial surroundings. There was more time to spend doing other things because I spent less time with my head in a map -- signs were-a-plenty now.


One of the more unusual sights along the way was the intersection of nearly all modes of ground transport in one place. As you can (almost) see here, you can see a railway on the ground level, an aqueduct for the canal and a road bridge spans the whole thing!


A lot of people live on boats along the canals network. Some of the barges are very pretty indeed. And some folks have obviously decided to live a different kind of life -- wonder if that tent is warm in the winter!


After a delicious packed lunch sitting on the canal lock gates, we headed further south east. It got a little confusing around the "Thames Link" canal/river, but we finally reached the Thames around mid-afternoon. The old docks had been turned into very plush residential apartments in this area and I got my first view of the city skyline.



After a couple of pints of shandy in a great pub on the river bank near Kew Bridge, I said goodbye to Kate at Kew railway station. I caught the tube to Chelsea, where my gracious friend Tom had arranged for me to stay the night. It was a very odd sensation being among so many people again, especially in such a busy, loud, crowded city like London. Quite the culture shock!


I couldn't quite believe that I had walked to London. The rest of the walk would be along the Thames to the Globe Theater.