Wednesday 5 August 2015

Making the most of the Northern Summer

We've had a good couple of (moderately summer-like) excursions for the last two weekends in July, even with the below-average temperatures and generally westerly flow having been in control of our weather since the very short lived heat-blip at the very start at the month.

Helvellyn Summit Cairn.
Last weekend, a large group of my University friends were gathered in the North Lakes, based around the campsite at Burns Farm near Threlkeld. I joined them for a walk on Helvellyn on the Saturday; it turned out to be a good day out in the sunshine. After ascending from the East via Helvellyn Gill, we dropped down Swirral Edge and back up Striding Edge before undertaking the long romp northwards over the rounded hills generally known as the 'Dodd's'. Imogen joined us later in the evening as we all gathered for a meal at the Horse and Farrier in Threlkeld.

How many people can fit in a grouse butt?!
This weekend just gone, we had a gathering of another set of University friends over in the picturesque valley of Swaledale, North Yorkshire. Swaledale is one of my favourite of the Yorkshire Dales; one of the remotest and it has a very rural Yorkshire feel to it. It is a particularly cosy valley to visit in winter, with  proper pubs in every village. A particular highlight is the Swaledale Woollens shop in Muker, where many a fine knitted product can be found. This time, we were staying at the Low Row bunk barn near Reeth. The lighting is operated by a £1 coin meter so we decided that given it was high summer we would economise, and spent Friday evening mostly under atmospheric darkness. On Saturday, we headed out over Reeth Moor to the North of the valley, a rather barren Grouse Moor with a number of long closed lead mines scattered around here and there. More picturesque and interesting however was the valley of Gunnerside Gill, along which we returned to Gunnerside and the River Swale, the National Park of course is best known for its Dales rather than its hills after all. There are a number of interesting 19th century lead mine workings in the upper reaches of Gunnerside Gill, including the Sir Francis Mine and the interesting stone and iron ruins of the Blakethwaite Smelt Mill. The valley displays perfect limestone overlain by grit topography that typifies the Dales. As the Gill opens out into the main valley of the Swale, the footpath leads through lovely deciduous woodland and meadow, where a few orchids were in flower.
Before heading back to the bunkhouse, we called in at the King's Head pub in Gunnerside for some fine refreshment courtesy of the Black Sheep brewery, Masham. They do know how to mak'em good over there.
Gunnerside Gill, displaying extensive surface evidence of former lead mining activities.

Monday 3 August 2015

Speed to the West

This July, Imogen and I spent a long weekend in the South Devon AONB, experiencing a proper bit of sun, sea and sand. After a generally cooler than average Spring and Summer so far 'up north' in 2015, we were looking forward to something decidedly more 'tropical' down in the West Country. 

On Friday evening, we pulled into a warm Totnes on a CrossCountry Voayger and had just a short wander through the Tudor market town to a lovely little 'airbnb' on the banks of the River Dart. The accommodation was a Romahome camper, parked up in the leafy back garden of the hosts' terraced house. It was a very cosy and peaceful night, followed by a lazy breakfast on deckchairs in the sunshine by the Dart. 

The 'Romahome' camper in a lovely garden next to the River Dart in Totnes.
The Dart is still just about tidal at Totnes, but not by much. The proximity to the sea was exemplified by the presence of several yachts and boat trips down to the coastal town of Dartmouth. The town itself is worth a good look around. The buildings are finely kept and historic and there are interesting staircases, bridges and a semi-ruined castle. Totnes is also well known as being the founding location of the 'Transition' (pro-sustainability) movement and the first Transition Town. It even has its own currency, the Tones pound, with the aim of keeping money in the local economy. Definitely a place to come back to, but on this trip there was just time to grab a Devonshire pasty and a quick look around before the bus for the Coast. 

The village of Slapton is barely 12 miles from Totnes, but due to the Devon hills and country lanes (and layout of the towns), the bus journey took around 2 hours, with some spare time in the town of Kingsbridge. The latter is another functional country town, sitting at the head of the Kingsbridge Estuary.

We were staying the night with our friend Graeme who works at the FSC Slapton Centre (Field Studies Council). After pitching the tent in the garden of his staff house, we headed for the vast shingle expanse of Slapton Sands. It was true British beach weather by the time we got to the beach; overcast and a brisk, cool wind. Thankfully, I had lugged my wetsuit with me on this trip so the surprisingly cool water did not make too much of an impact. For Imogen and Graeme however it was a question of a brief dip will do. On Saturday evening Graeme took us to one of the country pubs in Slapton village. 


Greame bites into a home-baked calzone, perfect fodder for the coast path! The beaches of Bee Sands and Slapton Sands stretch out into the distance.
Sunday was an altogether better day, and a nice surprise too as it had been forecasting heavy rain all day earlier in the week! This was perfectly timed for our 20 km + jaunt around the South Devon Coast towards Salcombe. The sun was shining in true West Country form and we marched off along the dead straight of the shingle bank that separates the freshwater of Slapton Ley (the largest body of freshwater in the SW) from the salty English Channel. Apparently, the shingle bar is expected to be breached by the sea at some point in the next 50 years, and as you approach Torcross at the far Southern end of the Ley, it's easy to see how with the village being perched on a very narrow stretch of 'land'. The powerlessness of man vs. the sea is evident further along the coast with the Lost Village near Hallsands, where the remains of an old fishing village are just about evident on the wave-cut platform. This part of the world has suffered quite a battering from powerful winter storms in recent years, with the prime example being the breach of the Dawlish Sea wall, closing the Great Western mainline for a couple of months during Feb-March 2014. 

Our coastal walk took us right around Start Point, with its rocky finger like ridge, pointing out Eastwards into the Channel, and onto Prawle Point, with its National Coastwatch Institution lookout station. The Coastwatch stations are an excellent feature of British coast path walking, being a network of 50 former coastguard stations now owned by the charity and staffed entirely by volunteers. There are usually interesting displays about the marine vessels operating in the area, notable shipwrecks and local marine wildlife and bird sightings. 
The section of the SW Coast Path passes many interesting coves and beaches only accessible on foot. We made our way down the steep path into Gammon Cove, tucked in beneath the towering cliffs of Gammon Head. It was fairly busy on the beach, but most of the other visitors had come by yacht or motorboat, which they had moored in the bay. We had a lovely swim in the clear waters, just as well as there were a few jellyfish floating around. 


The wave-cut platform and classic raised beach environment is displayed on the section of coast just east of Prawle Point. 
Gammon Cove and the rugged promontory of Gammon Head.
Imogen and I were booked into a small camping and yurting site called Higher Nature, near East Portlemouth on the Sunday night, an ecological campground set in a lovely peaceful meadow with waist-high flowering grasses. Graeme had carried his bivi-bag around with him and planned to bivi on the coast path prior to walking back to Slapton early on Monday. The Higher Nature site has a cooking cabin for preparing meals, so we made use of that before joining Graeme again for a trip to the pub in East Prawle. It was a good 45 minute walk along the typical hedgerow lined Devonshire lanes to the Pigs Nose at East Prawle, but well worth it. The pub had a very typical West Country feel to it, with several beers and ciders available from the cask. For our return walk to the campsite, the mist had come in, making for an atmospheric wander in the darkness. Graeme set off eastwards to the coast path to find an appropriate bivi spot.

The mist was still in on Monday morning, although by the time we were on the coast path again, bound toward the Salcombe Ria (deep flooded estuaries that typify this section of coast), it had lifted slightly and we caught glimpses of Bolt Head forming the next section west of the yachting town where our journey came to end. The beaches on the east side of the estuary are lovely and sandy and would no doubt be lovely for swimming on a sunny day (but also likely busy in high Summer). We caught the little launch across to Salcombe from the East Portlemouth ferry landing and launched ourselves into the bursting streets of one of the South Wests most 'executive' holiday towns, the size and grandeur of a super yacht moored in the centre of the Ria gave a good indication of the wealth of many of the visitors. The high level of second home ownership and infriltation of high-end clothing shops probably makes for a fairly non-vibrant local economy out of season. We grabbed ourselves some chips for lunch but passed on ice cream until back at Kingsbridge where we once again changed buses for Totnes. It was great to be supporting the local buses given all the cuts to local authority funding, but a shame to be strongly in the minority as 'full fare' paying passengers. The lack of funding has resulted in fares themselves being set at cost-prohibitive rates for families with cars etc. This is something that has to change in areas like the SW, which just become clogged with cars in the high Summer. This was demonstrated perfectly as we queued on the approach to Totnes station for around 10 mins in crawling traffic. 
A misty last day on the coast path leading into the Salcombe Ria.
It was raining and quite cool whilst we awaited departure at Totnes, I was still in my swimming shorts and was feeling quite chilly so paced up and down on the platform to warm up. The journey back north to Birmigham was a treat aboard one of just 5 CrossCountry HST's (Inter-City 125's), the finest way to travel to and from the West. The train was fairly quiet through Devon and Somerset and the HST made for an excellent viewpoint of the Dawlish Coastal section and fine Devonshire countryside between Exeter and Tiverton with its large windows and spacious carriages. It was a case of from the veteran class to the youth with the change at the nearly revamped Birmingham New Street onto a sleek 11-car Pendolino for the journey back to Lancaster. 

Sunday 1 February 2015

In search of the Alpine Winter

This January, I hit the Alps for the first time in winter, or at least during the season thereof with a little winter weather thrown in for a bit of good measure. The purpose of the trip was to undertake the IML (International Mountain Leader) winter training course with Plas-Y-Brenin. The venue for the course was the wonderful Auberge Nordique, Le Grand-Bornand in the Massif des Aravis area of the Haute-Savoie. This is a wonderful part of the Alps with very easy access by train from the UK, which is of course, my mode of choice for excursions to the near continent and beyond.

On the outward trip, I overnighted at Rowan's student house in Twickenham, always handy to have a relative in the London area ;-) (thanks Rowan). This set me up for the 07:01 Eurostar. Various options present themselves for the 4 km transfer between the Gare du Nord and the Gare de Lyon. On this occasion I decided to opt for the number 65 bus as I had well over 2 hours between Eurostar and TGV. I much prefer the bus to the RER, not least because on my most recent summer excursion, I had my mobile phone pickpocketed at Gare du Nord RER station! It was a rather solemn day to be crossing Paris as the tragic Charlie Hebdo attacks had recently taken place and it was also the day of the arrest of one of the protagonists in Northern France. As a result, the streets were very empty and there was a strong media presence at the Place de la République. The 65 bus deposits you conveniently onto the Boulevard Diderot, with a view of the magnificent façade of the Gare de Lyon. It was rather damp in Paris and typically I was in need of finding a toilet so I wandered to a nearby café for a mid-morning drink and snack. Very close to the Gare de Lyon is the Coulée Verte or Promenade Plantée, a disused elevated railway that has been converted into a 'green corridor' walkway. The route offers great views of the Parisian architecture above street level and comes under the directive of the 'Jardins et Parcs' department of the Marie de Paris. I had a wander along the walkway, admiring the Parisian upper storeys with my drag along case in tow prior to boarding the TGV for Annecy.

Limestone pavement above le Chinaillon (Le Grand-Bornand 1300 m).
For my first night in Le Grand-Bornand, I was staying at the Gîte d'étape la Chèvrerie on the hillside to the North of the village centre. Luckily, as common in most French ski resorts a free 'navette' or shuttle bus took me most of the way there, although there was still a good deal of uphill on road to be done to reach the Gîte, I turned down a lift from a passer by who ended up being the son of the owner of the Gîte - slightly awkward but I much prefer to be fully self sufficient as a non-driver who could never return the favour.

On Saturday, I was moving up-valley to the Auberge Nordique, the base for the rest of the week. I had a look around Le Grand Bornand village centre in the morning, followed by catching the ski-bus up to the end of the Vallée du Bouchet. I met up with Phil, my room mate for the rest of the week at the auberge for lunch and was then keen to get out into the sunshine. There had not been any snowfall of any significance since around the 20th December, so the South facing slopes were all rather bare. As a result, my walk up through zig-zag paths at head of the Bouchet valley was largely on mud and gravel! At around 1500 m, I joined a forest track, and finally got the snow shoes on and plodded on up to the Col des Annes via the Col de Borneronde. The snow was mostly firm with a shallow breakable crust in places.

On Sunday morning, a series of relatively light snow showers passed through in the morning. In the afternoon, I caught the ski-bus via Le Grand Bornand to le Chinaillon (G-B 1300 m). This is largely a sprawling mass of ski apartments, giving direct access to the skiing on the North side of Mont Lachat. From the village centre, I took a 'sentier de découverte' (nature trail) on a short circuit up and along the top of the limestone scarp that overhangs to the north of the village.

Vallée du Bouchet & Chaine-des-Aravis from near les Confins.
The course itself, started on Monday morning in the auberge, with 12 candidates joined by Simon Hale from Plas-Y-Brenin and John Jones from Glenmore Lodge. We had a range of informative outings on the snowshoes, covering topics ranging from avalanche awareness and transceiver-shovel-probe use to the softer elements of the winter Alpine environment; flora, fauna and perhaps more appropriately for the time of year, the tracks, trails and signs of the latter. Overnight Tuesday to Wednesday, there was some fresh precipitation; just about snow above 1000 m. As a result of the fresh snowfall at altitude, we headed around to La Clusaz in order to catch the télécabine up to the Plateau de Beauregard (1600 m). We stepped off the gondola in the latter end of the snow showers, so had an hour or two wandering around with our goggles on and hoods up! The fresh fall had put down several centimetres of powder, so the snowshoeing on the plateau was really quite genuine.
By Friday, we all felt fairly wised up on our winter knowledge, and spent the morning undertaking a final group avalanche rescue scenario, with a multiple-victim burial search near the Chapelle de la Duche.

Snowshoeing in the Col des Annes area, Pointe Percée and Massif-des-Aravis in the distance.
Typically, by the evening of Friday, heavy snow had come in and by early Saturday morning there was around 30 cm of fresh stuff piled up on every level surface and signpost outside the Auberge. Aside from there being a bit of sleet and slush down in the City of Annecy, I was soon out of the snow and speeding North on board the TGV to Paris. Unfortunately, I arrived at Gare-du-Nord to find all Eurostar services to London cancelled due to a fire on board a shuttle train in the tunnel. All turned out well though as Eurostar covered an extra night of Parisian accommodation and I found a good little bistro for some food in the northern quarters of the city.

The Auberge-Nordique and Vallée du Bouchet after a top-up of snow.