Summer comes soonest in the South

Or so once said a promotional poster produced by the Southern Railway in 1936. The vintage print itself depicting a young boy dwarfed on a sunny platform whilst gazing upwards at a gigantic green locomotive of the Southern Region. Far from the metals of the former Southern, and indeed far from the sweltering southern summer months, Imogen and I found ourselves on the UK's southernmost point for the second weekend in December. Keeping up an annual tradition of pre-Christmas excursions, this year we managed to get away for a long weekend in the village of St Ruan, near Cadgwith Cove. Classic Cornish seaside territory.

Gateway to Cornwall; the I.K. Brunel Royal Albert Bridge at Saltash.

We set out from Lancaster in the usual pitch-dark that a December Thursday evening brings on a Pendolino to London. But to brighten up our journey south, I had received a free upgrade for the two of us to First Class from Virgin Trains. What a great treat! We enjoyed fine on board hospitality as we raced south adding to the sense of adventure of setting forth on a great railway journey. We broke the journey overnight in Twickenham with Rowan before continuing towards the West. This gave us the benefit of enjoying the spectacular Great Western mainline to Cornwall entirely in daylight hours on Friday. The journey from Reading brought me onto familiar Great Western turf and of course our outstanding First Great Western HST did not disappoint with a faultless run via rolling Devonshire hills, the South Devon coastal section and the highlight of all, the Royal Albert bridge over the Tamar at Plymouth. For the latter, the HST slows to a crawl for the sharp curves leading onto Brunel's masterpiece. This is where the 1970's HST design comes into it's own, with the slide down windows at the ends of the carriages allowing that true nostalgic railway pastime of observing the goings on without the restraint of a pain of double glazing. Fantastic for photos and views! Long live the HST on the far West route, if we're lucky they could still be with us well into the 2020's.

Lovely Shetland Ponies on the SW Coast Path near Cadgwith Cove. 

Our base for the weekend was the loveliest of converted Cornish Barns. Before Friday nightfall, we just managed a short jaunt to poke our fingers into the biting waters of Cadgwith Cove and explore the interesting rocky promontory known as the Todden, a solid piece of Cornish rock jutting seward several hundred metres effectively cutting Cadgwith into two coves. The Little Barn provided a cosy little retreat upon our return.

Saturday had been forecast as sunny and still all week, a real bonus for our the timing of our trip. We set out under clear blue sky on a remarkably mild sunny morning headed for the SW coast path leading westwards around the Lizard Peninsula from Cadgwith. The Lizard is an area of stark contrasts, a result of unique geology, climatic conditions and vegetation. The Eastward facing coast, is relatively sheltered, sporting dense vegetation and thickets of gorse and sea buckthorn. The locals, make the most of the mild climate, and put on fine displays of sub-tropical ornamental plants in gardens backing onto the clifftop. Our route took us right around the headland of the Southernmost tip of Great Britain passing the lifeboat station at Kilcobben Cove and the scattered assemblage of tourist huts selling all manner of memorabilia. The warmth of the sunshine even permitted the shedding of jumpers at certain points on the walk. Just beyond the Southernmost tip, we stumbled across a worn groove leading down through broken shale to a rickety looking metal ladder. This in turn gave access to a beautiful little rocky cove un-named on the OS map, but at low water forming an extension of Polpeor Cove, accessible from the road leading to the shore from the Southernmost Point. We spent a lovely long lunchtime in almost spring-like sunshine on the cove, prior to clambering back up onto the coast path, and on to Lizard Point proper. At this point, the Lizard coastline turns North West, and the large expanse of Mount Bay opens up towards Penzance and Newlyn in the far distance. This is the rugged, west facing coast of the peninsula, battered by centuries of westerly storms, creating spectacular coastal features in the tough Serpentine rock.

Lizard Point, the most Southerly Point on the British Mainland.

Sunday was much more typical for December weather-wise. Still mild, but the area was battered by a classic westerly storm with super strong winds and heavy showers. We checked out a few beach spots, first on the eastern side of the peninsula at Kennack Sands and then by handy use of the number 37 bus, skipped across to the western side to check out Church, Poldhu, Polurrian and Mullion Coves; all wonderful in their own ways, particularly under the influence of an exciting Atlantic westerly. For Sunday evening, we settled ourselves in at the cosy little Cadgwith Cove Inn, for some fine Cornish fayre, and most importantly, ale.

Church Cove of St Gunwalloe under the influence of a fine December westerly surf.

Monday was our return travel day. First thing, we did manage a quick jaunt down into Cadgwith and around to the Devils Frying-pan. However it was soon time join the number 37 bus once again for the trip inland to Redruth. Our connection to the train at Redruth gave us enough time to check out the small North Cornish mining town and visit the station buffet for a hot chocolate. At 13:31, our royal blue class 43 growled in to Redruth ahead of the long-haul up the Great Western to Paddington. We were riding all the way in to the big smoke, so settled into table seats on the 'coast side' of the train to make the most of the scenery. Given the time of year, it was dark soon after Exeter which gave me the opportunity to settle into my Bradshaws Railway Handbook and read all the descriptions of Great Western towns from a Victorian-era perspective. The final leg of our journey was the usual belt north from Euston aboard the Pendolino. No first class upgrade this time but enjoyable, as ever!

As I drifted to sleep back in our little northern terrace on Monday night, it was with a small smile as brought about from such a majestic excursion deep in the southwest always brings. Cornwall haste-ye back!

Winter on the English Watershed

December has finally brought in more seasonal temperatures to the Northcountry. The working week provided declining temperatures, the first serious frost in Lancaster and squally showers of hail. This all made for some exciting trips out and about on campus; the chicken drinkers froze up for the first time this winter (a rare occurrence last winter) and Paul and I experienced an impressive deluge of hail whilst trolley-ing a large pallet box from Lonsdale to the Barn.

The Usha Gap Campsite, Muker-in-Swaledale

The weekend of course presented an opportunity to get out on the Hills to see if the arrival of winter would at last bring in the long-awaited first snows. Imogen and I have frequented the small village of Muker in Swaledale a number of times and consider the Swale one of the most exemplar of Yorkshire Dales. The limestone scenery is spectacular, the villages are formed of perfect Yorkshire stone houses and sheep, of varying breeds but particularly the Swaledale of course, are certainly still in healthy number. We headed out across the Dales from Lancaster on Saturday afternoon under a dark and looming sky. The road from Lancaster via Ingleton, Ribblehead, Hawes and the Buttertubs Pass takes an almost direct northeasterly trajectory before it lands oneself in upper Swaledale. Whilst this area is popular among tourists in summer, the winter months offer solitude and a true Yorkshire welcome in the small villages dotted along the valley floor. We had opted for the fresh option in terms of overnight accommodation, pitching up at the Usha Gap campsite. After popping the tent up during a relatively period of driving drizzle, we soon headed off in full waterproofs across the fields leading toward Muker village itself. The Farmers Arms in Muker is a fine little pub with a cosy welcome and a fabulous selection of Yorkshire ales and good pub meals. We settled in for the evening, making the most of the warmth and dryness.

Muker village with the wonderful Swaledale Woollens Shop and Farmers Arms

Our overnight camping experience provided a fine re-introductory to winter camping. The last time I'd been in a tent was in Annecy during mid-August so the flapping of the flysheet in the gales, coupled with numerous mixed showers of hail and heavy rain made for quite a contrast. We had gone for luxury camping this time though, with pillows and a fleece blanket atop our therm-a-rests; the perks of camping from the car! Speaking of which, the latter provided a good deal of shelter for cooking up Sunday morning's porridge and obligatory tea.

Sunday morning brought a brief interlude of clearer skies and sunshine. We headed back into Muker as I had set my hopes on a long-awaited purchase of a fine woollen jumper from the Swaledale Woollens shop in Muker. The visit to the lovely little shop failed to disappoint; it's really well worth a visit if you're passing by. After a good bit of trying on the various options, I settled for a patterned grey pullover made from wool described as being from 'Welsh Hill Sheep'. The smell of the jumper certainly lives up to the description.

After our Muker visit, we headed West up the valley through Thwaite and on to Keld, the highest village in Swaledale. Upon arrival in Keld, a heavy sky broke into a blizzard of wet snow. We had a quick wander around the cobbled village before heading up onto the moors that divide North Yorkshire from Cumbria. The snow shower had left a fresh dusting of whiteness and the air cleared upon our arrival at the pass, giving spectacular views. From the high-point on the Swaledale-Kirkby Stephen road, we headed out on a little jaunt on foot on the moorland lying to the North, forming the watershed between the Swale and Eden. The first highpoint and fine viewpoint was Nateby Common, an outcrop of limestone jutting out above the Eden valley. The highest point at Tailbridge Hill provides marvellous panoramic views of Wild Boar Fell, The Howgills, Eastern Lake District and the North Pennines. Not far to the East of Nateby Common and across the boundary between limestone and gritstone lies the slightly higher moorland of Nine Standards Rigg (682 m). This is a fine vantage point in the northern Yorkshire Dales, lying on the route of the 'Wainwright's Coast to Coast' walk and it is characterised by the Nine Rigg's or stone cairns, standing proud above the featureless moorland in a line toward the northern end of the summit plateau. Luckily for us, the weather remained dry and clear for the duration of our little circuit and we made the most of the fine views in all directions before heading off down the steep scarp slope along the road into Kirkby Stephen and beyond.

The start of our outing on Nateby Common and Nine Standards Rigg from the Swaledale - Kirkby Stephen Road.

The Nine Rigg's atop Nine Standards Rigg, North Yorkshire.

November in the Howgills

It’s been an incredibly mild autumn so far up here in the NW of England. November has snuck in with a little bit of what is hopefully on its way with its first week giving us our first hint of winter temperatures. Within the space of a week, daytime temperatures on the Lancashire coastal plain have gone from up to around 18ºC, down to less than 8ºC.

Ascending the broad, gradual slopes of the Northern Howgills. The upper Lune Valley, Shap Moor (L) & Great Asby Scar (R) in the distance.

Last Sunday, Imogen and I headed out for a fine romp around in the Howgill Fells. It’s an area that I’m mostly familiar with, excepting a big segment to the North and West of ‘The Calf’ which is most commonly viewed from the West Coast Mainline and M6 and gives travellers heading upwards from the south their first glimpses of the ‘mountainous north’. The hills rise gradually and smoothly from the lofty heights of Shap Moor to the NW in long, winding, broad ridges like the backbones of gigantic beached whales from long ago. We accessed our walk from the small village of Gaisgill, located only a few minutes East along the A685 from the M6 junction at Tebay. From this vantage point, the Howgill Fells seem miles away to the south, however the southerly ascent is so gradual that progress upwards and long-wards is remarkably rapid. To the north, an area of limestone country (Great Asby Scar) soon comes into view, adding to the scenic splendour of the walking. The River Lune, running parallel to the A685 Tebay - Kirkby Stephen road at this point marks the dividing line between the limestone area and the impoverished gritstone topography of the Howgills. The first point of any note on our ascent was Rispa Pike, at the lofty height of 470 m. Although having ascended a mere couple of hundred metres over around 5 km from Gaisgill, Rispa Pike provided a good panoramic view and a fine little stone wall shelter provided a good spot for a tea break.

Broad, sweeping grassy slopes characterise the hills of the Northern Howgills

The brisk westerly wind soon put us back into our stride, as we continued in a southeasterly direction over Uldale Head. From here, the proud south facing, steeper slopes that characterise these fells from the Lune Gorge drop away though cascades, grass and heather towards wall-lined fields and the fine landmark of Lowgill viaduct (disused) far below. The trough-like feature of Blackethwaite Bottom above the falls of Black Force provided enough shelter for a brief lunch before we hit the higher ground leading over Bleagill Head and Bush Howe to The Calf (676 m). The latter, being the highest fell of the Howgills group, sits on a crossroads of broad ridges leading for many kilometres in each and every direction. The myriad of ridges, spurs and valleys would provide an ideal area for navigational challenge, perhaps matching the Cairngorms for its feeling of remoteness. No navigational fun for us though, even though the cloud base seemed within touching distance as we turned to face north and head back to the Lune. Our route back to Gaisgill followed the long sweeping ridge to the East of ‘Langdale’ over Hazelgill Knott and on to Langdale Knott where we finally found some shelter from the breeze on the tame northern slopes leading into the pastures of the upper Lune valley.

All in all, a grand day out and a good introduction to the much welcome cooler temperatures of November!

Heading North. Following the winding valley of Langdale, the ridge leads over West Fell (R) and Langdale Knott (L) before dropping gradually to Gaisgill in the Upper Lune Valley.