Friday 20th September

We awake and take a gentle stroll along the reservoir. Muscles are all feeling good surprisingly. Tim and Dow have posted some photos of the ‘proper’ mountains they’ve been climbing, they’re half our age so I don’t feel too bad.

Edit addition. We’d only just left our camp spot and we had to stop at barrier arms. The road/bridge lifted up and a canal boat crossed over. So cool, so not normal for us. A bit further on the canal crosses over a bridge over a river! That totally blows my mind. The canal bridge is higher than the road bridge we go over.

Before we cross back into England we stop for coffee (and free wifi) in Abergavenny. Greg asks if I know the song? I confess I don’t until he plays it. Another song to be stuck in my head for days. The word for this is ‘ear worm’ apparently.

We both loving these little towns with individual stops, only the odd chain store. So much nicer to potter along the street.

We then jump on a motorway and put some miles under the wheels. Back to England and first stop a LPG place recommended on a FB group I asked. I’m not optimistic for once but we will see….

Well, I was right not to be optimistic. It turns out to be a shop in a mall so clearly not able to fill our bottles. As to if they could sell us an attachment, I have no idea as all the carparks had 2 metre height barriers. We give up and set the GPS for the SL Shop.

The SL Shop is a misnomer. It’s an entire industrial estate. We get a guided tour around by Oliver. The showrooms first, then out the back to the engine building and the bodywork building and the diagnostic building. There are a LOT of R107’s here! And a lot of Pagoda’s. And a few 190 SL’s.

We leave there and go on to the spot we’ve picked for the night. Bugger they’ve installed barriers at 2.4. We’re 2.47! We debate lifting the hanging signs and driving in anyway. I check back on the app and scroll through some of the comments. One says they were woken by the police looking for ‘doggers’ then later on were woken again by the ‘doggers’. What the heck are doggers? A quick google search tells us it’s people having sex in front of an audience. Oh wow, this trip is educational not just in historical aspects.

We go to the other app I sometimes use and find a place 30 minutes further on. It’s on a hilltop beside a windmill with a pub behind. Much more us, lol. We chat to a previous local, back with his son to take photos, then go to the pub for a drink before cooking dinner in the van with the sun setting dramatically before us.

For the first time today, Greg gets out his camera. It’s been one of those days.

21st September

God damn it! The latch on the bathroom cupboard isn’t particularly strong and often when we’re driving, my toilet bag will push it open and fall into the hand basin. First time it happened my nail polish broke and now the inside of my toilet bag is blue and stiff. Anyhow it happened again yesterday and this morning we realised it’s cracked the bowl of the hand basin. Greg has put duct tape over it for now but we will have to do a better repair soon so we can continue washing ourselves decently. I’m annoyed that one, this cupboard doesn’t have the same push button locks that the other cupboards have and two, that I didn’t change what I was keeping in that cupboard or how it was positioned before now.

We head for Oxford and lots of traffic. I’d set coordinates for a parking area but it was full when we finally get there so we drive on looking for roadside spaces. I’d already assessed most of the parking here is in buildings with height barriers. Find a place but the pay and display machine says 2 hours maximum (& for £7.30!). I ask a parking warden who is hovering by a sports car. He names a road 15 minutes away but when we get there it’s all permit parking only so we then go to another place on my app. It’s good and much cheaper too. Then a 20 minute walk into the centre and we find a pub playing the rugby, All Blacks v Springboks. The second half had just started and the All Blacks are ahead. The pub is full of South African supporters so we keep a low profile. The final score is 23-13. I’m sure there is some dealing going on as the AB’s always end up in a tough pool when the home country seem to have easy games.

We then head to the visitors centre. I would like to do an Alice in Wonderland themed walk but there isn’t one, just a Harry Potter (& Alice) option. We decide we’ll just do the general one which starts at 2pm so first up get some lunch.

Last night we’d been chatting to a guy who told us to go to this particular area where there were pubs on the canal edge so we go there. There is one pub and one restaurant. The restaurant is closed due to a private party. The pub is packed. We eventually get a table and decide what to eat. Greg goes up to order and after queuing for ages is told there is a problem in the kitchen and they’ve had to shut everything down for 20 minutes. Food was already taking over an hour to come out before that.

It’s now 2pm so we give up on doing the walking tour and walk back to the pub we watched the rugby in to eat. Definitely not our day. We wander around Oxford but it’s not really doing anything for us. Compared to Cambridge, this is a very poor second. Cambridge has a lovely intimate centre, great canal side places and plenty of pubs and places to eat. The covered market here is quaint, reminds me of Victoria Markets in Melbourne. I wonder if we’d got here 7 years ago if we would have got a different impression but today I’m comparing it to Cambridge and York and Chester and it’s losing badly.

The traffic is just as bad leaving town. We’ve picked a spot for the night close to Mercedes-Benz Brooklands. The R107 Facebook group Greg belongs to is having a meet there tomorrow morning.

The trees are starting to turn yellow and the sun is setting earlier. It is creeping into Autumn. We’ve been away for 202 days now. 109 still to go and we’re going to be chasing the sun. Spain, Portugal are still recording lovely warm temperatures and Africa will be Southern Hemisphere so definitely summer weather. Before we leave England will will get to enjoy the fall colours. Just hopefully with some warm temperatures too.

22nd September

30 minute drive and we arrive at Mercedes World Brooklands. There is a line of R107’s in the front row. We park the van in the back row and wander over. A really nice bunch of guys. Some have meet each other before, for some it’s their first outing with this group. Greg is greeted with great enthusiasm as he’s been an active online member. Yas Man is also a Liverpool supporter and he’s thrilled to actually meet Greg. They’ve been online chatting for so long, to actually be face to face is neat. we all adjourn to the cafe before the incoming rain sends the open tops owners racing back outside. After they all depart we go back in and look around Mercedes World then have lunch on the third floor overlooking the track with drivers experiences and passenger experiences going on. immediately below us is a drifting circle. Some go for it and spin out, some are over cautious and correct the second they start drifting.

The back story to Brooklands is pretty cool. It was the Worlds first purpose built motor racing circuit as well as Britain’s first airfield, opened in 1907. Banked corners were invented here. WW2 saw the end of it. Mercedes-Benz have salvaged some of it and with their driver experiences are acknowledging the history here.

Eventually we set course back to the Cotswolds. Taking much longer than expected due to a traffic accident several hours before. Driving anywhere in England tests ones patience. You’re either slowing for a roundabout, village, lights or speeding up after them. Or often all three at the same time. We’re in a campground tonight in the very very pretty town of Burford. Liverpool is playing so we walk down the main road to find a pub showing the game and end up in The Bull. We are the only ones there (apparently it’s fully booked by a wedding party but they’re off at the moment doing the actual marrying part).

Over the game we (well mainly me, Greg is trying to watch the game) end up having an intense discussion with the half Welsh, half Kiwi vegan barman about religion and philosophy, hive mentality and magic mushrooms plus politics, economic brainwashing and corporate manipulation. He is playing Dylan and ends up quoting some of the lyrics. Love it.

Are there any new ideas in this world or do we just keep circling around old views.

Well, despite the day feeling just all we’ve done for the last few days was drive motorways and A roads I am happy and we have finished off better than we started.

Oh and learned more about doggers and dogging today. Apparently if you flash your lights, you want to participate. If you don’t you just want to watch. Have told Greg not to flash his lights at any stage in any carparks.

This is three days of words and Greg doesn’t many photos. It’s just been like that for the last few days. So publishing with only one picture. And another campground with free wifi that doesn’t reach much past the office so going to go for a walk now to post this.

Monday 16th September

Of course it is drizzling and cloudy this morning. The Daily Mirror tells us the heatwave is expected to last into October, but the small print tells us that North England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales will also be continuing with the wetter than normal weather they (and us) have been experiencing. Thankfully we are heading south.

Today however, it’s back to Wales. Wales has definitely impressed us so we want to see the rest of it. Firstly we drive through Shropshire, ‘Area Of Natural Beauty’. The official description is serene, hilly expanse and quaint villages. That is spot on. It makes us think of The Famous Five and The Secret Seven books. Winding lanes through hedgerow edged fields, some green, some brown where they’ve harvested. Tree filled gorges and quaint little villages of stone or brick cottages.

We cross a crooked line into Wales. The only difference is the street signs are now in Welsh. We’re heading back to the coast, not far from where we turned inland a few days ago. We go to the world famous Devils Bridge falls. I confess I’d never heard of them before noticing it on google maps as being close to our route. The bridge is more unusual than the falls. There are three bridges built right above each other. The first, supposedly built by the devil has been dated about 11th century. It’s stone and arched. A few metres above that is the second bridge built in 1708, also arched stone but with ironwork details and railing. And immediately above that is a steel girder bridge built in 1901. The walk takes us down one side of a steep gully, there are viewing areas but only of the valley, then down Jacobs ladder, 100 steps to the lowest point below the bottom waterfall. We then cross a green almost half circle bridge and up 500 steps on the other side of the gorge. Views on every step of the water thundering down several drops. It’s a nice break from driving and some good exercise.

We go to an LPG place to try and get our empty bottle filled. He would of if he could of but didn’t have an adapter that fitted. This is continuing to be a hassle. We have about 10 days of gas left so hopefully we find someone somewhere who can help us.

Then we hit a traffic jam due to roadworks that adds 20 minutes to the expect travel time, according to google maps. It’s the only road through the area and the queues stretch for a couple of miles either side of the few feet of bridge railing repair work. We eventually end up parked on a beach on Cardigan Bay at a place called Llanrhystud. I’m not attempting to pronounce that.

17th September

It’s sunny! Blue sky! Only 7 degrees though but it should warm up a bit. Just a bit though. Predicted high of 17.

We head a couple of hours down the coast. We are in Pembrokeshire and it is known for its amazing Coastal walkway. It’s 299kms so we not doing all of it, lol. We pick two sections and plan on doing the shorter one today and the longer one tomorrow. Today’s one starts at Whitesands Beach and goes south, out and around St David’s head. We start out and it’s sheltered from the wind, very pretty, sun shining, warm. It’s along the cliff tops and there are baby seals in the unreachable bays below us, Mothers hovering protectively.

The landscape feels like home, a mix of Whangarai heads and Te Henga walkway. Once we reach St David’s head it is windy but the exercise has warmed us up.

Greg asks me to go and sit on a particular rock on the edge so he can take a photo which I do and then he comes over too. As soon as he stands on the rock, it starts moving. We both scramble off quickly. We think it was just rocking but certainly not going to get back on it. It’s a very long drop down to the sea.

The other side of the headland is a bit wilder and after reaching a second then third point we head inland and climb the bulbous rocky mountain. We are following wild horse trails for a while until we get to a decent path. The horses, I think they are Welsh ponies, seem totally unperturbed by us passing by. It becomes a hand and feet climb to get to the very top but the views are worth it. There is a man up there with a ham radio antenna. He hadn’t been having much success today but he said he regularly connects with stations in Galway and Devon. By the time we get back to our van, we’ve been away for 2 & 1/2 hours and done about 7kms so not too bad.

We’ve done a lots of walks in the UK now and we both have a real issue with one small matter. So many times we see this. A neatly knotted doggie poo bag sitting on the side of the track. If you’re going to go to the trouble of picking up after your dog then at least take it with you. You’d be better not picking it up at all if you’re just going to leave it there wrapped in plastic. At least it will decompose then.

We drive on to Newgale and a campground there. I’d picked it partly because it’s beside a pub that could be showing the Liverpool game tonight. Unfortunately not. Over here premier league had just switched to BT but champions league is still on Sky. Got the feel sorry for the pubs and clubs. They sign deals with providers and then it all changes. Never mind, we have great free wifi so ‘maybe’ we can find a stream.

18th September

Once again we end up being really late leaving camp. Somehow we seem to end up chatting away to people and the time slips away. Luckily we’re on holiday and don’t have a timeline to stick too.

We drive to Stackpole quay carpark. Today’s walk is the highlight of the Coastal walkway and is an expected 10km. We park an grab a couple of coffees takeaway and start on the track. We cross a headland with amazing views up and down the coast. The cliffs are red sandstone and white limestone then we come down to the beach of Barafundle.

The sun is shining, pretty much no clouds in the sky, no wind but not too hot. We sit on the sand and eat lunch. Greg goes for a swim. It is really nice to be sitting on the sand, bare feet relaxing, but we drag ourselves back up and continue along the coast walk. It’s amazing cliffs.

We walk out onto one headland and when we’ve gone further on and look back we can see right through the headland to the bay on the other side. We had crossed over 2 arches without even realising. There is a seam going straight down one, I don’t think it will be long before the headland becomes an island or stack. Peering over the edges there are lots of caves, stacks and ‘lattice windows’.

There are no fences on the cliff edges although there are a couple around some sinkholes. There are anchor points for climbers and at one of them there is a couple of ropes disappearing over the edge. At the next headland we can look back and see them. They obviously went down the rope but are free climbing further along. It is really impressive watching these little human dots scale up the undercut cliff, edging their way along rock seams.

We start talking to a couple sitting watching. A glance at my watch and we’ve been 2 hours and only a third of the way on the track. Haha we will need to get a move on, either that or cut out the extra ring route around the lily ponds. But it seems a shame to rush past these amazing cliffs so we continue at the same slow pace until we reach the ponds and then do both, skip the loop and pick up the pace. Our path takes us back on an inland track, alongside one of the lily ponds and over a stone bridge with 8 arches. Apparently otters are seen here but not today. Too many dogs out I suspect.

Back to the van and we drive an hour down the coast to Llansteffan, to a beach carpark below the ruins of a castle. The signs say the castle closes at 4pm but after dinner I suggest we go for a walk up to it anyway. There are no gates at all. It’s has lights illuminating the front walls. The sun is setting, turning the sky deep orange. One star, likely Venus is shining low on the horizon. It’s bigger than I was expecting. We climb a spiral staircase up to a tower roof and look out over the sea and the town. Greg is kicking himself as he didn’t bring his camera.

Today has been a really really good day. Cliffs and castles, two things we don’t get back home.

19th September

We head to the Brecon Beacons. Greg wants to climb a mountain, especially Pen y Fan. He’s done some research but we go to the visitors centre first for some confirmation. Also to get a map. Pen y Fan is the highest mountain in South Wales and the highest in Britain outside of Snowdonia. There are a couple of options to climb it. The easiest takes about 4 hours and is apparently one of the most popular hikes in Britain so on a good day it can be like a motorway. The hardest option called the Horseshoe, at about 6 hours it takes on two other peaks as well. The one we’ve picked, at 5 hours takes on one extra peak. Just getting there is interesting. The lane is so skinny the hedgerows are brushing both sides of the van. Thankfully we don’t meet any traffic going up or going back down because reversing with the wing mirrors buried in the hedges would not be fun. There is no centre rear view mirror and the only limited vision out the back windows.

The Brecon Beacons are made from red sandstone, lifted from the sea floor millions of years ago. The mountain tops are plateau beds of brownstone and the valleys gorged by the last ice age. Its a fantastic landscape.

Our actual hike starts the same as the longer horseshoe trail and is a long steep slog up to a ridge, then a gentle (-ish) climb before another slog, then a hands and feet scramble up the last bit. At 886 metres I feel a great sense of achievement when I reach the top. Ten years ago I struggled to get up Mt Maunganui. The views are amazing, 360 degrees of other mountains and ridges, over farmland of patchwork greens to the coast hidden in haze. There are two army guys up there with a small tent and periodically soldiers arrive carrying full packs and a semi automatic to check in before carrying on. They are struggling which makes me feel better.

From there the Horseshoe turns right but we turn left. We go down down down across a ridge and up up up to Cribyn. Greg comments they don’t believe in zig zags, it straight down and straight up. We pause and look back at Pen y fan. The people on top tiny dots. These mountains look like a tilted table top with a sloping side and a sheer cliff on the other. Our path isn’t doing either of those but rather the ridge line along the cliff edges.

We then carry on down the other side of Cribyn to a mountain pass called Bwich ar y Fan. Then we turn down what had been an old Roman road which skirts the valley side before descending down to the farmland. We’re now two valleys over from where we started and cross over public access ways back to the carpark. We missed a turn off somewhere so end up doing some extra distance along lanes. My phone tells me we’ve walked 13kms. It’s taken us 4 and1/2 hours but probably less than 4 hours was actual walking. I think Greg and I must walk at a reasonable pace as we often end up passing other walkers. The last hour, I didn’t want to stop, feeling that if I did I wouldn’t be able to start again.

We then drive on 30 minutes to a parking area beside a reservoir. End up in a line of 4 campers. Obviously a popular spot despite no cellphone coverage. I suspect my legs might be a bit stiff tomorrow. We’ve walked over 30kms in the last 3 days, so although we’re not up to the mountain climbs Tim & Dow are doing in Europe, I still think we’re doing okay.

Back to England tomorrow and no more hiking for a few days. I’ll post this as soon as I can get some wifi.

After a very lazy morning we head to Liverpool. Neither of the apps I’ve been using had anywhere, to stay and the nearest campgrounds are in Chester. I asked on a camping UK Facebook group without success so resorted to using google maps satellite to pick out a place. Needless to say I was a little apprehensive. The location turns out to be a great spot. The carpark is open 24 hours and has amazing views over the city, the Mersey and the Welsh hills in the distance. It’s about 20 minutes walk into the city centre and 19 minutes walk from Anfield. It’s actually in Everton park, Everton is Liverpool city’s other football club but it is also a suburb so we’re not being disloyal. Our only concern now is that it is likely to be a popular ‘park up’ spot for youths and tonight is Friday night.

We secure our belongings and head into town. Our first stop is Williamson Tunnels. I’d noted this place a couple of years ago and now have no idea where I first heard about it. We walk through a slightly run down suburb to locate it. It appears deserted but a lady pops out and asks ‘do we want to do the 3.20 tour?’ Answer yes and she suggests we watch an information video until the time. We do so and she comes back for us with hard hats and then takes us through the big black padlocked door. A one man or in this case women operation. But as we learn, it is all volunteer based.

Some history; In 1805 James Williamson, a wealthy businessman with an interesting back story bought some land outside Liverpool and started building eccentric houses and created a wealthy enclave. The land dropped off steeply and he wanted the houses to have elaborate back gardens so he built huge archways over the slope to create a level top for the gardens. By the time he’d finished Liverpool was filling up with returning soldiers from the Napoleonic wars so he started employing more needy people and got them to build more archways and tunnels. So rather than a handout they were earning a wage and learning a trade. After his death the area was swallowed up by an expanding city and became a industrial area and slum. The tunnels were used as dumps and largely forgotten. The Joseph Williamson Society was founded in 1989 and by 2002 managed to open a bit up for public viewing. It’s an ongoing process to continue to clean out and explore all these tunnels. No one knows the extent of them all and these days some are under properties that refuse them access.

It is a very interesting tour. Some of the caverns are absolutely huge, some just skinny passages. There are bricked up archways that they don’t know if they went somewhere or were just created to make work. Adding to the discoveries, because they were used as dumps for 200 odd years, there are plates, pots, bottles and other sorts of artefacts as well.

After the tour we walk down the hill to Liverpool’s waterfront and admire the buildings. A bit like Dublin, it has lots of Georgian architecture, some Victorian then nothing until recently. We chat to a couple of Irish guys over here to watch LFC tomorrow then on the way to find a pub we bump into a small group of German, Welsh and locals and join them in the first pub. One of them recommends we head to Matthew Street and enjoy the music. We do and grab dinner opposite the Cavern Club, watching all the tourists taking photos in front of the entrance.

When we get back up to our van, we were right about it being a hang out spot but they don’t seem to stay long, mostly parking and eating takeaways. Hopefully it eases off later as we have an early start tomorrow morning. This afternoon we called into a Boots pharmacy and made an early morning appointment to get Yellow Fever vaccines, needed to go to Africa.

14th September

The cars coming and going didn’t stop till the wee hours unfortunately and the later ones liked to show off their engine power so has a bit of a disruptive night, may move to a different spot tonight. There was a place on one of our apps beside the Mersey about a half hour south of Liverpool Quay.

This morning it’s dog walkers and joggers. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, bit nippy now but should warm up to be a lovely day.

First on the schedule is our Yellow Fever Vaccines. The UK Healthcare is under huge pressure and lots of things have been farmed out to pharmacists, including vaccinations. Boots go through this whole interview/checklist including medical history and full itinerary. It then comes up with recommended/needed vaccinations. Oddly enough it says we don’t need Yellow Fever when our travel information says it is the one compulsory vaccine we have to have. The pharmacist then goes through possible side effects, there is only one and it’s death. Lol. Apparently 1 in a million can die. He does reassure us that there would be signs within 10 days if this is likely. The vaccine is then calculated on our weight and mixed on the spot as it’s isn’t a stable vaccine. It is then administrated at a 45 degree angle under the fat layer not 90 degrees into the muscle like most injections. The whole process took a lot longer than we were expecting but I guess they need to cover themselves. Funnily enough though, the system wouldn’t accept our German phone numbers so the pharmacist just used his own number. We needed a UK address too but as we’d been forewarned on that, we were prepared with Ethan and Emily’s, thanks. I wonder if they will start getting junk mail for travel services. We gave our email addresses and before we’d even left the shop had received 2 emails.

Then we were on to the primary reason for coming to Liverpool, football. Tickets for today’s game sold out months ago but 2 weeks ago we were chatting to a man in a pub and he said if we met him in the Twelfth Man pub before today’s game he might be able to get some tickets. So we go to that pub, walk in, it’s packed and Greg says to me ‘Do you remember what he looks like?’ Hmmm older guy, grey hair, was wearing a white shirt and tie because he was meant to be at a wedding not down the pub watching football. Needless to say we didn’t find him, another guy befriended us and lead us upstairs and down trying to see if there were any available. These are people with season passes and if someone can’t make a particular game they are up for grabs among those in the know. But no luck so we go out on the street and soak up the atmosphere, Greg taking photos then we grab some lunch and go back to the Twelfth Man and watch the game. End up sitting next to a young couple, he’s from Belfast and they moved here to get away from the simmering tensions over there. Liverpool win, of course. We wander the streets again for a while. I’m surprised the atmosphere isn’t buoyant. Greg explains the win was expected but still, everyone is heads down, going on their way.

We’d been told about a bakery that was going to close down a few years ago because the neighbourhood was mostly abandoned and the community rallied together to buy the business and it is now community run, employing and training local school dropouts. It’s done well enough they have now bought the entire street and are creating affordable housing. Love the story and the message so we go there and buy bread and coffee. They had sold out of their award winning pies. Then we go back to the van and drive on to the other spot for the night. Still in Liverpool just.

Liverpool has been an interesting city to visit. It looks so downtrodden in places, rubbish on the streets, boarded up buildings, weed covered lots but there are cranes all across the horizon, new construction sites everywhere. And the people are all so friendly. There are homeless bundled up on the streets but so many times I see people giving them food or coffee.

15th September

I was awoken about 4.30 by a car pulling in beside us. Door opening and closing. The boom boom boom of the bass. A few minutes later another car pulls up, more car doors and I hear a very clear, calm ‘Hello’. And an electronic noise. More talking, inaudible to me. Curiosity got to me, that ‘Hello’ wasn’t a young mans greeting style and that electronic noise was sort of familiar. I partially open the back blind, my side of the bed. There are people walking around and torch light. The light shines briefly on the second car which is at an angle partly on the road. The letters P.O. can be seen before a person is hands on the roof and being patted down. The electronic noice was that 3 tone police radio sound. He is then sat in the back seat of the police car and I can hear more car doors. I open the blind at the end of the bed a bit and watch as the police get 3 other young men out of the car and then do an inspection by torch light of the car, under the seats, in all,the cubbyholes, everything out of the glovebox. In the boot he pulls out a long steel pole like a golf club shaft and asked a guy what’s it for? I don’t hear the muttered response but the officer is obviously okay with it as he puts it back and carries on. Eventually he lets the 3 get back in the car and takes all their names and addresses saying something about a warning. Then he fetches the guy from the police car and they all leave. Likely all oblivious to their audience, me.

Next time I get up it is a more respectful time. As Greg had paid his respects to Bill Shankey, past Liverpool manager he felt it would be good to do so for Bob Paisley. His grave is in St Peters Church in Woolton so we go there. It’s Sunday and the morning service is about to start. We walk in the gates and a lady asks if we’re looking for Eleanor Rigby’s grave. I reply no, Bob Paisley’s. She didn’t know that one but another lady did and took us over to it. After that we did go and check out Eleanor Rigby’s grave too. Google tells us Sir Paul McCarthy says it’s just coincidence that there is a grave of that name in the graveyard of John Lennon’s childhood church, where they first met and used to hang around at. But maybe it just tucked itself away in his subconscious.

From there we set sail for Ironbridge. It was on my list 7 years ago but got dropped off because of a second football game. It is very very picturesque, a steep treed gorge with quaint stone buildings and a delicate iron bridge. It’s is tourist focused, but to survive it needs to be and it isn’t gimmicky. There are plenty of pubs and cafes, ice cream parlours and microbreweries. We walk over the bridge and around and under then up the river on one side, returning through the town then recross the bridge and go down river on the other side then back and under that side. The bridge itself is pretty impressive, it doesn’t look like it should hold the weight it does.

Going back up some stairs to the bridge again, I end up sitting on a wall chatting to an older gentleman in a smart waistcoat. He tells me tales of growing up here, going over to the iron furnaces at the end of the day and collecting the hot embers to take home to Mother, free fuel. Paying the half penny toll to cross the bridge to school, wagging school and hiding in the wild rhubarb. He tells me of one time when his mother sent him up to the coal truck with a halfpenny to buy a piece of coal, the truck driver gave him a huge piece he could hardly lift. They were laughing as he struggled off with it. He said he had to rest on every step I had just climbed but he got it home. Last laugh to him I think. He trained as an electrician and was offered a job in New Zealand but his father died unexpectedly and he couldn’t leave. He asked if I liked his waistcoat, said he’s recently started wearing them, thinks they look very smart. He then tells me he goes into restaurants and pulls out a notebook and pen, starts writing his shopping list then gets the best table and great service and food, they think he’s a restaurant reviewer. Haha, last laugh with him again. I am totally totally loving these contacts and hearing these personal stories. Greg arrives and we chat about all the trees and how pretty the gorge is, very different to when he was growing up here.

We say our goodbyes and drive on. I had found a place to stay at an English Heritage Castle ruins. Google and the gps concur on the route to travel for once, but as the road becomes a narrow narrow lane with grass growing in the middle, we do doubt it a bit. Then there is a sign ‘ford’ and we descend down a steep section and see the ford. The water isn’t high but it is a drop down then a steep climb up the other side. Greg says I don’t think we can make that! I had been mentally noting turn around spots and there hadn’t been anything for a couple of miles. Reversing would not be fun. After discussion I get out and have to watch the clearance as Greg drives across. The drop down isn’t as bad as it looks and once his down he guns it to get up the other side. Thank god, my heart can stop pounding now. 600 metres on and we get onto a slightly bigger road.

Not much further on and we arrive at the castle ruins. There is an old man walking 2 elderly dogs, he’s lived here for 53 years and walks his dogs here every day. All three of them have to stop every 2 metres and rest. Haha, he’s a Liverpool fan so football is the conversation. The castle ruins consist of the remaining outer walls with towers in each corner. it’s orangey coloured sandstone with lovely curved windows. Built after King Edward 1 returned from his crusade, it was a time of peace so the fortifications are are for show not reality. Greg and I do some fun ‘ghostly’ type photos. Well, Greg tells me what to do and I do it while he does all the technical stuff.

Sun is setting so we stop for dinner but there is also a graveyard here so after dinner, it’s a change of clothes and setting. The red wine with dinner helps me get into the mood, doesn’t help the running around in the dark in a cemetery though. Will just have to wait and see how the photos turn out.

Tuesday 10th September

Before I start on today, yesterday on the ferry I started chatting to a lady with a dog in a van parked beside us. First thing, she apologised for Brexit and she’s not the first English person to do so. It is so top-of-mind over here that it always comes up in conversation. In Scotland it was mostly with a degree of anger and the likelihood that Brexit will lead to Scotland separating from Britain. In the Republic of Ireland there is the hope that Brexit will lead to a reconnection with Northern Ireland. In England, so far we’ve only met one woman who was all for it and couldn’t wait. She felt England was paying too much money for needy countries. When I asked about Scotland and Wales who were receiving lots of money from the EU, she was like ‘well they can just do without’. But most English we’ve met shake their heads in despair. A lot say they’ll move to New Zealand if it goes ahead.

Anyhow back to today. We have three days to explore the north of Wales before we head to Liverpool for the weekend. So obviously the ‘big’ thing around here is the Snowdonia National Park. We investigate climbing Snowdon but although there are several tracks going up they all have a ‘hard’ section, with lots of warnings, not for beginners. They have expected times of 6 to 8 hours as well. We decide it might be a bit much for us and to add to that there is a train that goes to the top so you can hike 4 to 5 hours to the summit and your moment of achievement is alongside a coach load of tourists dressed for selfies. So we find another mountain to climb, Crimpiau. It is graded moderate with an expected time of 3 to 4 hours. As a bonus it’s a circuit.

We download the map and directions and drive into Snowdonia. We take a roundabout route to Capel Curig, so as to see more of the land. The carpark where the track starts from is tucked away behind a hiking shop and we can stay overnight there. It’s beside a cascading stream with oak trees all around. Make some sandwiches and load the packs then set off.

The valley is very green, tall trees all covered in moss, rocks underfoot. We climb up over scraggy pastureland, the sheep watching us pass. Stone walls with stiles lead from one field to the next. Sometimes the path is gravel, sometimes rocks, sometimes just short grass but always water was flowing down it. We make our way up a valley between high craggy mountains and then just past a big rock turn off and clamber up a low pass, then a higher pass then along the ridge to the highest point. Amazing 360 degree views. The mountain, Snowdon, is at the other end of a valley we look down over. The road we drove in on wending its way through the bottom alongside lake Mymbyr or Llynnau Mymbyr to give it its proper name. We sit on the side of the top boulder and have lunch. We feel like we’re miles away from everywhere.

We carry on along the ridge and down a steep steep track, climb a stile and stop. The track disappears. It’s just a very wet reedy area with rocky outcrops all around. After some debate and exploring some sheep paths we backtrack back up up up the steep track. At the top we get our bearings and check the map. The directions seem wrong but there had clearly been a fire at some stage which could explain that. We decide we were on the right track and we would just have to wade through the wet area. So back down the steep steep track. Yes, we eventually find a reasonably well formed track again and keep on going completing the circuit. Just a little bit of extra exercise for the day. On our way down there were jet fighters screaming through the valleys. Firstly Greg had the wrong lens on , then next time he had the lens cap on. They’re too fast to photograph without being totally prepared.

11th September

It rained overnight and is still raining this morning. It is meant to clear though.

We head south to do another hike Greg has found. Wales, Snowdonia is really cool. Winding lanes, nearly two cars wide with low moss covered stone walls on either side. Gnarled trees, often meeting overhead, water from last nights rain pouring off the mountains, valleys of shadow and light. Cute stone cottages beside lakes, beside streams, nestled into hillsides. Converted churches, converted lodges, unconverted barns. A converted gatehouse with a car parked behind the great iron portcullis, a carport/entrance with an ornate clock tower. We drive down one side of an estuary and there is a steam train going up the other side. Reaching the coast and it’s white sand beaches with good surf rolling in.

We round a bend and there is a grand castle in front. A quick google check and it’s Harlech Castle. Greg is instantly ‘We had to sign Men of Harlech at school.” It’s a Heritage site so we detour up an incredibly steep street to the carpark. First stop is a bakery opposite, where we learn that the road we drove up isn’t the steepest in town and the road just past the castle has just stolen the title of the worlds steepest street from Dunedin’s Baldwin Street. They all declare they’re going to take the World Cup off us this year too. Yeah right!

Anyhow the castle is a great castle. It’s in ruins but there is enough left to climb high up one tower and admire the extensive view also walk all around the castle walls, top and bottom. It’s a castle castle, 4 towers in 4 corners, thick walls in between, spiral staircase leading up in different directions and a great gate house on the forth landward side.

After exploring all we could we then checked out the steepest street, Ffordd Pen Llech. It’s 37.45 degrees. Differing from the previous record holder, it curves and can’t be driven up, only down. Some bits seem exceptionally steep, other bits not so much and it’s not the overall ‘wow’ you get from Baldwin street in good old Dunners.

We stop for lunch beside another great inlet and interestingly enough look down on it when halfway around our afternoon hike.

The hike Greg has chosen is called the Precipice Walk. It’s not an overly steep track but it circles the precipitous sides of a mountain. You can, and we did, climb to the top with 360 degree views. There is also a side path saying copper mines. We went down down down a steep path and reached a gravel road. No idea where to from there so we turned around and climbed all the way back up. Haha, nothing like a bit of unintentional extra exercise.

We get back to the van and it’s getting quite late so contemplate staying there for the night but the carpark is a 10 degree slope and even our ramps wouldn’t stop the glasses from slide straight off the table so we move on, checking out a few possible spots before parking up beside a rugby club facing onto Bala Lake.

Today has turned out a lot better than we imagined. I can’t believe we just stumbled on the street that took our world record. I remember seeing we’d lost it but not taken any note of who to. And it is fantastic that we can just change our plans on the fly, just live in the moment. Well mostly, there is no way Greg would skip being in Liverpool on Saturday.

Hahaha. Sitting here in the dimming light, just finished dinner and Greg is writing a letter to his 97 year old father. He was trying to do them monthly but he’s got a bit behind. Lol he’s asking me about places we went to in Belgium. That was June! It’s now September. I glance out the window and there is this amazing moon rising over the pine trees. Of course I have to comment. Letter pushed aside, camera out, lens changed, photos taken. Hmmm, probably why the letters are getting behind.

Wales has totally impressed us. It has elements of Scotland, England and Ireland all in a compact package. Also loving the lack of ‘hands out for money’ we’ve seen in parts of Ireland and England. There is free parking most places and plenty of places to pull off the road and admire the scenery. We’re not passing hundreds of signs saying Stone circle £5, Castle ruins €5 etc etc etc. To be honest though, we’ve only seen a small part so far.

12th September

Hahaha, it’s raining again. The weather app tells us it’s Tropical Rainstorm Gabrielle. Really! A tropical rainstorm. It’s cold and windy too. We decide to skip the planned morning hike around the lake and blob for a while. I seem to comment a lot about rain and wind and cold, not a lot about sun and warmth. We do get nice weather periods sometimes. It’s just they are interspaced with the wet patches.

We drive up to,another lake, this on with a long dam, assume it’s a water reservoir. We go for a walk, mainly for the fresh air and exercise. One side of me gets drenched walking out, the other walking back. But it’s only water, unfortunately the view wasn’t up to much due to the low cloud.

Next stop a supermarket. Greg has a conversation over the Oat Milk with a local gentleman, which leads to a recommendation to see Pontecysllte Aqueduct. As we leave the supermarket the sun is peeking through so we set the GPS and head a bit south to check it out.

It is an impressive aquaduct. Once again it is a Thomas Telford creation. He really was an amazing engineer. The aquaduct was opened in 1805 and is still going strong now. Canal boats putter across and it has a walking path on one side. It’s seriously high! 38 metres and the wind in the middle is full on. Thank god it’s blowing towards the fence else it would blow me into the water. There is a looming black rain cloud but it stays away.

Then it’s into a campground, set ourselves up for the next 4 nights freewheeling. The campground is just over the Welsh border, we’re back in England. There are still a few black clouds passing overhead so I splurge and pay for the dyer as well as the washing machine. Well for one of the loads anyway. Greg’s getting the bikes back in running order, we haven’t used them since Cambridge and the tyres are flat.

Friday 6th September

It was another wild, windy night. In the morning we explore where we’re parked. Muckross Head is a small peninsula with interesting undercut cliffs. They are used for free climbing with over 50 marked routes. Looks pretty freaky to me.

Our days in Ireland are coming to an end so we put pedal to the metal and head to Northern Ireland. Back to pounds and miles. We also roll over 20,000kms in the van and the tread of the front tyres are showing it.

We head for the Giants Causeway. Very popular with the tourists, so lots of people there. They have presented it well though, even if it is a bit pricy. You can do a guided walk or pick up an audio guide and walk yourself. There are buses (for an extra cost) for those unable or unwilling to walk. Obviously we walk and I do take an audio guide. It tells the story of the giants who legend says made the causeway and the scientific explanations as well.

Briefly the legend tells of an Irish and a Scottish giants trading insults. The Scottish ones says ‘why don’t you come over here and say that’ sort of thing so Finn, the Irish giant throws stone spears in the water and makes the causeway then goes over to the Scottish giants house but once he sees how big the Scottish giant is he runs back home and asks his wife to hide him. She dresses him as a baby. The Scottish giant comes over and knocks on the door. The wife says her husband had just popped out but come in and wait. The Scottish giant then seeing the size of the ‘baby’ assumes the father (Finn) must be huge so runs back to Scotland, breaking up the causeway as he goes. Apparently there is somewhere in Scotland where you can see the other end.

Scientifically, it is volcanic lava layers that cooled slowly in regular columns that have then been exposed over the centuries.

We walk the lower track to the causeway, joining lots of other people clambering over the formations. We then leave most of them behind and carry on around the cliff base to the point where the track disappears under a landslide. We backtrack a bit and climb 162 stairs up the shepherds path to the clifftop and back along the cliff to to the visitors centre. Once again the wild Atlantic wind comes into its own. It’s seriously hard to stand upright.

Overall we’re both slightly underwhelmed. Although the actual formations are really fascinating, they’re smaller than I expected in size and area.

I hadn’t expected to be associating Ireland with cliffs before coming here but that is what I will be leaving with. The best ones, Slieve League, are at this stage still free entry. Cliffs of Moher and the Giants Causeway you could see for free if you didn’t need parking. Just skip the visitors centres. The Cliffs of Kerry are completely on private land but only cost €2 per person. And Muckross is free and completely unpromoted.

We’re not going to stay the night here with the wind again so move on to Ballycastle and park seaside behind a golf course. An island offshore reducing the wind a bit. Tomorrow we’ll be back on the East side so away from this wild Atlantic weather.

7th September

We’re planning on spending the day exploring Belfast, one of the terrible ‘B’s’ no one went to when we were younger (Baghdad, Bosnia, Beirut being the others). So we hit the road early. Halfway there got a Viber phone call from my niece, Makayla. It was her birthday today and the present we’d posted two weeks ago in Dublin had arrived in time. I think it’s amazing to be chatting half a world away. Hope they do too.

I’d found a good place to park in Belfast, absolutely central with easy access for a larger vehicle and reasonable prices, £5 for 12 hours, not that we’re planning on staying that long. We decide we should do a walking tour first this time to get our bearings so had just enough time to grab a coffee before the 11am start time. It was a 2 hour tour and was okay, a bit light on detail and lacking some of the passion we’ve experienced with other guides. Although I did gain a better understanding of the provinces and county system. Belfast is very Victorian architecturally. The growth in the city was stunted from that period up until about 20 years ago. Politics!

After the tour we backtracked to The Crown, an amazing pub built by a strong loyalist. He persuaded Italian craftsmen building Churches to build his pub after hours. So it has elaborate tiles, stained glass, carved woodwork and stone pillars like a church. There are even pew like snugs inside. A side story is his wife was Catholic and not a loyalist so she agreed with his plans as long as she had final say on the placement of the crown emblem. It is on the ground at the front door so everyone walks over it.

After lunch Greg really wanted to see the Peace Wall so we headed to West Belfast. We were both expecting something like the Berlin Wall. Well, it is a Political Wall, used to divide people and has graffiti art on it but that’s where the similarities end. This is an active wall. It is three times higher than the Berlin Wall was. There are huge gates over the roads that are closed every night! Fairly regularly there are huge fires lit at this wall that burn down houses close by. The messages written on the wall , mostly by tourists are really positive but in reality this wall is keeping a tenuous peace. It is brutal and confronting. The wall is one thing but there are high steel fences on the other side of the road, the houses have barbed wire on their gutters.

Our route back to the van takes us along Shankill Road and there is a parade going on. At least 20 flute bands, all with banners, all playing the same tune. The street lined with hundreds of people drinking and celebrating. Union Jacks everywhere. Greg asked a guy what the parade was for. He replied it’s an annual black parade in honour of his cousin, Brian Robinson, killed by the SAS on this day in 1989 while on the back of a motorcycle.

Google later tells us he was on the back of the bike armed with a gun riding around a Nationalist area. Seeing a Catholic civilian walking down the road he opened fire, hitting him 11 times and killing him. An undercover British Army unit linked to the SAS gave chase, catching and shooting him. For this he gets this full on celebration, road closures, hours long parade…… I’m stunned, reeling from the passionate hatred these people have against other people. And there is the whole complicated issue of the British army sent in to defend the Catholics against the loyalists…

I felt uncomfortable there and now, knowing more I feel sad. West Belfast is still being torn by religion, loyalties and beliefs and both Christian religions at that. Or is that just the match/spark? Like Hitler attracted fanatical twisted people and religious beliefs also draw in those attracted to extremes? Is this just a small pocket of people, literally fenced off from reality. Hopefully that’s the truth. We’ve been traveling around Ireland for two weeks and this was the only place that we encountered this negativity. I do really hope it is only one small pocket of Belfast and that the greater harmony and openness of the land of Ireland wins out over all.

We end up in a campground in Greencastle. It’s very sterile but the campground I had picked was full. Pity as it looked much nicer. And cheaper.

8th September

Campground morning routine. Clean the van, empty tanks, fill tanks…

We walk down to the beach but it’s nothing much. Set the GPS for Dublin, here we come again. Back to kilometres and Euros.

Need to visit a supermarket on the way, last nights dinner was scraping the bottom of the pantry. It had been on the list to do yesterday on the way to the campground but watching the parade meant it was well after 5pm before we left Belfast with over an hours drive to the campground. Maybe why the first place was full.

Driving into Dublin and the traffic is crazy. Then realise it’s the woman’s Hurling final. Oh god! Hope we get parking!

Phew, plenty of spaces to park. It’s the first time we’ve gone back to a place we’ve stayed before. We chose to stay on the adjacent street for variety. Actually tomorrow night we will also be staying the same place in Holyhead. Our ferry lands at 6pm so it doesn’t make sense to go anywhere else.

Our last night in Ireland. We walk into the centre and visit Trinity College, start off intelligently. We were aware that the woman’s Hurling final is starting at 4.30 and wanted to watch in a pub so skip the Book of Kells and head into Temple Bar, peering in windows to see who had TV’s showing the game.

An awesome tiled pub we’d admired last time did, so we went in. OMG! Unbelievable atmosphere, yes the game was on the TV’s but there was live music, probably meant to be playing traditional Irish music, as advertised in the window but there was a stag party with the groom to be in a horse costume, his party all dressed as jockeys and a hens party, dressed to go on a jungle safari. Apparently Emily (bride to be) is going on a honeymoon to Australia….. ??? Yep jungle..Australia… they were Welsh and none of them had been anywhere even close. Anyhow the musicians are playing popular music and taking requests. We end up partying and joking, dancing and having fun. The bride-to-be’s 78 year old grandmother is such a hoot! I did keep an eye on the Hurling and, sorry Kilkenny, Galway won.

We decide we need to eat so leave the pub and wander (stagger) along the road a bit. Pick a place on the fact there is a table available on the street. The table beside us is a couple of women from Chicago. We start talking and don’t stop. Luckily they had only just sat down too so our drinks and meals arrived at the same time. We finish up at the same time and after hugs go our separate ways.

Standing up again, the alcohol is felt and I want to dance, hahaha. We only walk a few metres and there is a couple of buskers playing some cool music. The jockeys arrive and we end up partying and dancing in the street. I’m aware there are people with cellphones out but who cares.

We came back to Dublin with a list of things to see. Instead we just spend hours partying and socialising. And have no regrets.

Much, much later when we’re walking home, Greg comments we don’t act or feel like we’re in our mid 50’s and I confess I’d had a similar thought when a ‘jockey’ had started spinning me around rock’n’roll style. I’d fleetingly thought I’m old enough to be your mother but neither of us care in that moment of enjoyment. Age is just a number. although we’re home in bed by midnight and they’re probably still going. But that’s wisdom.

On that, sort of side issue, I thought we should name our van Homer. Firstly because it’s home. Secondly because we’re on an odyssey. Thirdly because every time I have to write the registration number which starts DAH, I always thing of Homer Simpson saying Doh! Greg’s somewhat dry response was, we’ve driving around for 6 months without a name for the van, why start now?

9th September

It’s raining again this morning so we have a sleep in. It’s weird that I’m standing naked in our bathroom while someone is parking their cars behind us to go to work. It may be home but it is just a van and there isn’t much between us.

I’m so so so happy that our final moments in Ireland have been great. Belfast was confronting but Belfast isn’t Ireland and I can happily leave with positive experiences of this beautiful green land. Rain, wind, rainbows and cliffs but overall amazing people.

So this afternoon it’s on the ferry and back to Wales, a boring transitional day.

Tuesday 3rd September

We put some mileage under the wheels today. Exited County Kerry, crossed over County Limerick and entered County Clare. Not a lot of stops on the way either. One sleepy village for coffee and a fishing marina for lunch. The weather is grey, the cloud low. We’re heading for the Cliffs of Moher so fingers crossed it clears up and gives us a beautiful sunset.

The clouds get lower and thicker. We enter the carpark unable to see beyond a few metres. We wait in the van for a while as the weather app says it will clear. It doesn’t so we rug up and go over to the visitors centre, then we go for a walk along the cliffs. The wind is howling and it’s strong enough to make me lose my balance. I don’t walk too close to the edge, not that I can even see the edge. After an hour or so we concede and go back to the van. We’re planning to stay in the carpark overnight. The app says you have to leave by 9.30am but a worker we chat to says, no one checks and to stay longer, maybe we’ll get a better view in the morning.

Just after I put dinner on the table, I glance outside and boom! The clouds lift, a sliver of blue sky over the cliffs. We drop everything, well not the wine, I finish my glass then hurry back up the path. There are the cliffs, the spectacular views… The wind is still blowing. It’s wild and rugged. The birds are swooping and soaring. When did I stop dreaming I could fly?

I feel sorry for all the people on the coach tours that came through earlier. We get to see both aspects.

Haha, we’d parked beside another camper, on the leeside and when we get back they’ve move to the leeside of us.

4th September

Not a great nights sleep, the wind off the Atlantic punched its weight against the van. You could hear it coming in great gusts. Sometimes it would miss or just skim the side, other times it was a direct blow.

Moving on, we spent the day in Galway. Admired the raging river, walked the cobblestoned streets and visited some noted landmarks.

Unusual landmarks to be sure. First one was Browne Doorway. This is an architectural doorway that was removed from its house in 1905 and placed in the town square. No idea what happened to the rest of the house. It is now enclosed by Perspex walls so can’t really be photographed.

Next was Lynch memorial. Again it is a small piece of a house, this time a wall and an upstairs window. Apparently the town’s mayor in 1493 hung his son from this window for murdering a romantic rival. This is thought to be the origin of the expression ‘to lynch’

After viewing these two part buildings we then went and looked at the remaining part of the Spanish Arch. As with the other 2 landmarks, no idea what happened to the rest of it. From there we went to the museum, it’s right next door. Pretty well done, it leads you through Galways history from the ground floor up to the third. The top floor has photos by windows so you can look at what is now there compared to back in time.

Then there is information about the underwater Ireland, Ireland’s marine area is 10 times its land mass. We learn about the different marine animals found here and the underwater exploration going on. So far a pretty chilled day which is good since we’re both pretty tired from last nights weather interruptions.

We eventually head north again. Despite yesterday’s cliff experience we are planning on visiting another 2 cliff areas so tonight will be spent partway to the first one. I’ve found a spot by the ruins of a mansion and across from a lake. Hopefully it is okay.

Driving across the Ireland countryside, there are so many church ruins. I guess it’s a testament to the historic Catholic/Protestant power struggles.

We arrived at the chosen site and had a great walk around the ruined Moore Hall mansion. It’s just amazing. A driveway between towering trees leading up to an imposing 3 story (+ attics and basement) stone house with pillared entrance. Peering through the barred doorway the grand entrance had curved walls and arched doorways, grand rooms on either side. The facade is partly covered with ivy, the trunks curving up the corners. It is a Special Area of Conservation as it is home to the Lesser Horseshoe Bat and any potential access point is well barricaded against human entry. Exploring further, several metres behind the house there is a long tunnel crossing from one wall to the other and halfway through it is an arched gateway into a secret walled garden butting up against the back side of the house. It has/had roomed areas with curved windows, now all overgrown. Further back on the land is another huge walled garden? area with at least 3 small cottages built into the walls.

Despite it being an interesting place we backtracked to a spot we’d passed right on the lake to stay the night. Some locals approved our choice saying the carpark at the mansion sometimes gets young louts and that where we are now is totally peaceful and we should have a good night. It’s a little chilly but I cook and we eat dinner with the door wide open. First time in Ireland.

It’s a clear night so Greg resists an early night to do some more astral photography.

5th September

The locals we’d been talking to said we should see plenty of wildlife, including foxes. The most I saw was a single shag and 3 swans. It’s always so quiet in the morning. It’s surprising both of us how unique New Zealand’s birdsong and dawn chorus is.

Avoiding motorways we wind our way northwards. It feels a lot like home. Is it really? Or have we just become acclimatised to the rural views here?

We find ourselves back on the Wild Atlantic Way, a tourism trail along the lines of Scotland’s NC500 or America’s Route 66. This trail is 2590kms though, so we’ve hopped on and off it along our travels.

The cliffs we are heading for are on the mountain of Sliabh Liag or Slieve League. They are 3 times higher than Moher but not as sheer. They are the highest cliffs in Ireland and are situated at the end of a peninsula. We arrive at the carpark, actually 2 thankfully, one with a height barrier and one without and a gate. If you are unable to walk far or just lazy you can open the gate and drive the 1.5km to the lookout. You miss out on the wild, wind swept walk through the craggy land.

At one point I thought it had started to rain but when we were walking back later we saw that there was a small stream dropping over the cliff. The wind was so strong that the water wasn’t falling down, rather it was going straight up and then back towards land and over the track. It was then running back down into the steam and off the cliff again, a continuous circle.

We reach the lookout at the same time as a small bus load of elderly tourists. So we skip the lookout for now and start up the steep rugged pathway along the cliffs for a bit then up the mountain to a craggy bluff.

The land here is now very like Scotland, peaty and heather. I learned yesterday that the northwest of Ireland and the southeast millions of years ago were completely separate and they crashed together, a bit like Scotland crashed into England and Wales. So I guess that explains the difference in terrain.

As we climb, the wind comes from different angles depending on the rocky crags. When we get up the top, it is just full on! I put both my feet together and lean into the wind, incidentally also the edge of the bluff. It’s scary how far forward I get. I’m laughing but I really have to concentrate because the gusts drop unexpectedly and I could fall flat on my face. It is totally exhilarating!

A 5 hour hike will take you to a stunning cove apparently but we descend back to the now deserted lookout. The views from higher were better lol. A potent reminder why we’re traveling now, not after we retire.

I’d picked a spot for the night at a nice sheltered beach, back along the main peninsula and on another smaller peninsula. Yeah, not really us so, we move on about 200 metres to the headland. We’re now looking back at the Slieve League mountain across an inlet with grey, white capped waves crashing against the land. Signs warning ‘Danger! No swimming, No surfing’. It’s windy but not that bad. The tourists on those buses are now probably in some pretty hotel, eating a buffet dinner, looking at paintings of the coast. We are here on that coast, those ‘paintings’ our views. Red wine and a yummy risotto. Rather be here and much cheaper too. Justification for traveling now rather than at retirement. And, if we’d done this in our 20’s we wouldn’t have had the same appreciation.

Thursday 29th August

But of a ho-hum day. The weather is ho-hum as in overcast and our moods are ho-hum too. We motivate ourselves to leave camp and set course for Kilkenny. Nothing spectacular about the drive, it’s countryside with hay baled and in the process of being stored. Quite a few tractors with massive trailers moving it around.

We stop for coffee and a walk around in the village of Enniscorthy. It’s dominated by a Norman Castle in very good condition and 2 churches. There is some information boards about the 1798 Rebellion which was centred in this region. The British quelled that rebellion but it was the State of Union in 1800 that finally finished the rebellion. Ireland really has had a troubled relationship with Britain.

We eventually get to Kilkenny after crawling in traffic for the last half an hour. The first carpark I had earmarked was full and although we hung around for a bit nothing was moving so we went to another one, not quite as quiet due to a nearby roundabout. Luckily a couple came walking over to their car just as we’d sussed this one was also full. A nice bonus was they gave us their pay and display ticket, valid until 7pm. It’s free from then until 8am tomorrow. So a very belated lunch again and then we finally get to explore Kilkenny.

It’s a town with cute medieval buildings, a castle and a couple of cathedrals. Cobblestoned lanes and museums. Quite a few Spanish tourists, surprisingly. On the whole nothing particularly unique but then when we walked up towards the castle again there were 7 young guys with brass instruments and 1 on a small drum kit busking. They were playing modernish music, Amy Whitehouse, White Stripes, Shaggy. It was really cool. We decided to go to a pub and have a Kilkenny in Kilkenny. There are 6 pubs in a row so it’s lucky dip. I said go the red one it looks popular. Greg goes for the local Kilkenny of course so I decide I better have a whiskey. Top shelf.

Now the reason this pub is popular is because some time ago the brewery in Kilkenny, Smithwick, ran into trouble and was bought out by Guinness and all the staff were laid off. Smithwick had a tradition of providing free beer for its workers. Guinness have kept that tradition, in a fashion. The workers nominated a pub, this one, which then gets 2 free kegs a week and all the old workers get free drinks from 3 to 5pm every Thursday. Hahaha. We ended up having wonderful conversations and laughter with a few of them. It was after 5 when we arrived so they were paying for their drinks by then and a couple were in a happy state. The Irish have such a great affinity with Kiwis. So many times now they feel like they have such a bond with us, it’s just great.

So we finished the day better than we started. The best time about Ireland is the people.

Kilkenny is festooned with yellow and black banners, bunting, flags and shirts. Their Hurling teams, men’s and women’s both made the finals. The men’s was last weekend and they lost so it’s all up to the girls. Their final is the weekend after next. This weekend the big match is the final of the Gaelic Football, Dublin versus Kerry. Dublin are looking to win for an unprecedented 5th time. We will likely be watching in a pub in Kerry so will be rooting for the underdog.

30th August

No sleep in this morning as we have to exit the carpark by 8am.

We drive to the Rock of Cashel, a rather spectacular ruin on a hilltop visible for miles around. It is unique for being both a royal and ecclesiastical site. It was the seat of the King’s of Munster up until 1101, when the then King gave it to the church. This had the dual advantage of forwarding himself in the church hierarchy and deprived his arch enemies of gaining what had historically been their ancestral seat.

The royal buildings had all been wooden as Ireland was intensely forested. The church, of course, build stone buildings and these are what we see today. It’s not a large hilltop so all 5 buildings are close and/or connected to each other. The oldest are from the 1100’s a round tower in limestone, same as the hill and a chapel in sandstone. The chapel is climate controlled with limited entry. Abutting onto that is the roofless walls of a larger Gothic Cathedral, built in the 1200’s. In the 1300’s they removed part of the nave and built a square tower with lots of defences and a fortress wall.

For a place of worship there are exceptionally good battlements. The Gothic Cathedral has passageways in the walls that cross up and over the central vaulted arches and link to the fortified tower. They had to be as they were regularly being attached from the French, the Spanish, the English, the Scottish and anyone else wanting to get their hands on the church gold and wealth. It all came crumbling down with Cromwell who had cannons.

Bonus for us is that this is a Heritage Ireland site and we get free general entry and free Chapel guided tour. Despite the fact it is raining (again) and windy it is a interesting site. Ironically the weather is why it was eventually abandoned by the church and the monks all moved to a new place at the bottom of the hill. Snow waist high and only being allowed to wear a robe and sandals are not a great mix. We learned about how they used cow intestines to cover the windows since glass was not available here. That worked ok in summer but with winter winds up to 170km up here they wouldn’t have worked for long. The views look out to the Atlantic Ocean so it’s very easy to imagine the hardships endured here. It is apparently summer now but my fingers are going numb.

From there we drive to Tipperary, because it isn’t 🎶a long way to Tipperary🎶. It’s a quaint wee place, festooned with blue and yellow. I’m guessing the opposition.

We then traverse country roads to Blarney. Can’t go to Ireland without going there. Apparently on the top ten bucket list places worldwide. It’s not a Heritage Ireland site so I buy tickets online to save €4. Still pricy though. The gardens are beautiful and there are interesting sculptures along our stroll to the castle. We pass signs reading 90 minute wait from here, 60 minute wait from here and without any queue at all climb to the top of the castle to the location of the famed Blarney Stone.

A Brief ‘History’ of the Stone;

It is said it was Jacob’s pillow, bought to Ireland by the prophet Jeremiah. Here it became the Lia Fail or Fatal Stone used as an oracular throne of Irish kings- a kind of Harry Potter sorting hat for kings. Legend says it was then removed to mainland Scotland, where it served as the prophetic power of royal succession, the stone of destiny. When Cormac MacCarthy, king of Munster, sent four thousand men to support Robert the Bruce in his defeat of the English at Bannockburn in 1314, the stone was split and half sent to Blarney. Some years later a witch saved from drowning revealed it’s power to the MacCarthys saying ‘There is a stone there, that whoever kisses, oh! He never misses, to grow eloquent.’

So you climb up narrow winding stairs and arrive at the top of the castle. The roof is long gone so you can look over the walls at the lovely gardens or down the inside to the family room below. You circle around the walls and arrive at the stone. To kiss it you lie on your back and arch back down a gap with the ground way below you. There are 2 steel rails to hold onto. It’s a reasonable way down. Imagine lying on your bed and kissing the skirting board a foot away. Actually then imagine selling it as a tourist venture for lots of money……..

We then have a wander around the Poison Garden. Some of the plants are under metal cages, like the marijuana and the poison ivy, most have information signs. Some are surprising, like Rosemary, apparently the leaves and the oil contained in them cause cramps.

We also had a clamber through the underground passages. Reputedly there was an escape passage here to caves in the grounds and when Cromwell finally took the castle they had all escaped with their gold and valuables.

We picked a spot for the night beside a ruined abbey and the river Lee. A lady and her children turn up just as we’re looking around. She chats with us and offers for us to stay at her place, even coming back to offer showers at her place. She thinks what we are going is wonderful and makes suggestions on places to see and go. I am really enjoying the people and the welcome we are getting.

31st August

Can I say we slept like the dead since we were awoken by gravediggers? Well, not really, we were already awake when they arrived. Real old school, two old guys with shovels. It’s a crowded little cemetery, no chance of getting anything mechanical in there. They dig a bit, rest and talk, dig a bit more. Their breath steaming in the chill morning air.

We move on to Killarney, a very slick tourist town and start the Ring of Kerry. A driving route around the headland with various spots to stop. The buses go anti clockwise so we went clockwise. This means the sea will be on our left and easier for the pull offs, I hope. We go to the tourist centre in Killarney to get a driving map and end up with a stylised drawing. That was all they had. Oh well, google helps and it is signposted.

First stop is Torc Falls. A short walk through sun dappled trees, the emerald green moss glowing on the tree trunks and rocks. The ferns along the river edge glistening with raindrops. The fall is a cascade type with plenty of water tumbling down. It did rain heavily overnight and there are regular showers passing over today.

Next few stops are lookouts over Loch Lein, Muckross Lake and the smaller lakes of Killarney. We then wind up and through Molls Gap and down the other side to Kenmare. We don’t stop at the working sheep farm. We do stop and look at Kenmare Stone Circle, a druids circle dating from 1400bc and have lunch there before carrying on along the coast road.

The landscape is a bit like Scotland as in rocky crags, heather, bracken, pastoral fields but slightly different. The rocks are smooth, the hills softer and it’s less accessible. The stopping points are ‘tourist places’ or signposted ‘viewing areas’. There is nowhere to park and go for a random hike or stroll along a beach. There are however spectacular cliffs which we can view from the designated viewing areas and the wind is sending white capped waves crashing against the bases of them.

We struggle to find a spot for the night and are now in the third place we’ve visited or tried to get too. It’s between a flash restaurant and a ‘world renowned’ golf resort. There is a ‘no overnight parking’ sign by a side area but none where we are. It’s quite open and I feel we need to be discreet so not feeling totally comfortable, which could make for a disturbed night. Haha, Greg with his tele-lens spots another spot just across the bay. A bit of google map sleuthing and we’re off. Feel so much better. This is more us, end of a no exit road, only farmland around us, the road ends on the beach and it’s sheltered from the wind too.

Rainbow! Greg is jumping up, changing lens and off. I then think of the tales of Ireland; leprechauns and pots of gold at the end of the rainbow. I guess I should have been surprised at the rainy and sunny and rainy and sunny and rainy weather. After all that is rainbow weather. The setting sun is catching the tops of the mountains across the bay and turning them golden. Is that the fabled gold, the beautiful land of this country.

I’ve created a vegan version of an Irish stew, good hearty food on a crisp evening. Washed down with a very mediocre Pinot Noir from Chile. Count my blessings though, life is good.

1st September – OMG First day of Autumn, where has the year gone?

Kerry is a dark sky area and at 4am there are no clouds. Despite all the lights from Waterville across the bay we can see thousands of stars and the wavy band of the Milky Way. There are shooting stars too and the slow flashing lights from planes. Greg wraps up warmly and takes some astral photos. I just stick my head through the skylight above the bed.

Later on when the sun rises, Greg braves the cold again to go for a swim. The sun is shining but it’s only 11 degrees. We prepared with the shower head out the bathroom window so he can warm up quickly afterwards. Murphy’s law comes into play again and the gas bottle runs out so the water is only warm not hot.

Before we move on we take a walk to the headland. Standing Stones, they are everywhere over here. There is also an abandoned hotel. Once again we are not seeing the regular tourist sites. It’s Modernist, built in 1972 and closed down in the ’90’s. It’s on the market for €150000 including 113 acres and approved plans for a new 120 room hotel.

We detour off the Ring of Kerry to do the Ring of Skellig. First stop Blue Flag beach, not as nice as where we stayed but it does have castle ruins. The castle was built to stop pirates from anchoring in the bay. In the distance are the ruins of an Abbey but we don’t bother checking it out. The weather is packing up again.

We stop high on a headland to look out at the Skellig Rocks, 8 miles offshore. The larger one has the remains of a monastery occupied from the 7th century. The monks lived in round ‘beehive’ shaped buildings and was where Rey finds Luke in The Last Jedi.

We carry on to the cliffs of Kerry. Sheer rock drops into the most intense turquoise water. A deep dark colour that then lightens to white as it crashes against the cliffs. We can see the rain squalls coming. The drench us before passing over and we watch them recede inland.

We have coffee at Portmagee, a fishing village with a smuggling history, then cross a long low bridge to the island of Valentia. We drive the loop road and have lunch overlooking the Strait. We don’t go look at the lighthouse or fossilised footprints of a Tetrapod because the road is unsuitable for campers.

We get back on the Ring of Kerry route and head to Kells to a pub with parking to watch the Gaelic Football Final. We pull up outside and both go ‘No’. It doesn’t look like a football watching sort of place so back to the app and I find another option. And as we’re driving down towards the pub in Cromane and end up in a stream of cars, I think we’ve probably picked a good place. Thankfully we got a park directly outside then walk in to a room full of green and gold. Not our favourite sporting colours but we are rooting for Kerry. They are definitely the underdogs taking on Dublin, a much bigger club with more money behind it. This is still an amateur sport. The winning team get a paid holiday away together out of it. That’s all. I chat to the guy beside me to get a brief understanding of the rules. It had elements of Rugby, Soccer, Aussie Rules, Basketball and is a very fast paced game.

It’s starts off fairly even with the lead changing hand then Dublin get ahead. Just before half time though, one of their players is red carded. So the second half will be 15 men to 14. This leads to another tight half with the lead switching regularly. 70 minutes and Kerry are ahead by 1 point but they add 7 minutes extra time. Dublin manage to get the vital point right on the 77th minute. Now this is odd, it doesn’t go to extra time. There will be a full rematch in 2 weeks time. If that game is a draw, it will go to extra time but if it’s still a draw after extra time, there will be another rematch. Kerry are happy to have not been beaten by the champions but gutted to have lost that critical point in injury time.

The pub then brings out platters of food, chips, sausages rolls and other finger food. I end up holding a platter so share with a group nearby and have a good chat. They have all been to New Zealand and loved it. Favourite place in the world after Ireland. Eventually we move on just down the road to a park by the beach. The rain has stopped but it is still cloudy and windy. I’m coming to expect that as normal here.

2nd September

And we carry on exploring around the Irish Coast. First stop is Inch beach, opposite where we stayed last night. It’s a sand bank with dunes and a long beach. We grab a coffee and watch as a rain squall sweeps over, then go for a walk along the beach. We go beyond everyone else’s footprints but don’t reach the tip before turning back. The cafe a small dot against the hillside.

The narrow lanes are edged in red with flowering fuchsia. It seems grow wild everywhere here and is interspaced with orange flowers, a crocosmia. Adds colour to drab days.

We pass through Dingle, another pretty little Irish town with colourfully painted buildings, hanging baskets of flowers and shops selling summer essentials, raincoats, scarves, beanies…. The road winds around the cliffs, offering dramatic views of the sea and islands. We lunch at Slea Head, looking out over the brooding waters, seabirds riding the wind, rain squalls obscuring and revealing the distant islands.

Actually the Dingle peninsular is making up for the ho-hum Ring of Kerry. This place is spectacular, wild and mostly untouched. There are small dry stone walled huts nestled in the hills, mostly abandoned but telling the tale of a hard existence lived here.

Next stop is Dunmore Head, the westernmost point of Europe. Naturally we hike out to the tip and then down to the beach, where Greg goes for an impromptu swim. A lady on the beach comes over to tell me how impressed she is.

Somehow it’s taken us all day to drive a two hour loop. We need to get a move on now to get to the campground. Hmmm, the driver just has to stop anytime something appeals to his photographic eye.

Damn it. We’d planned a circuit route which crossed the Conor Pass and partway up the road there are signs warning against vehicles over 1.8 wide. U turn and it’s back the way we came to go over the range via a gentle pass. Longer drive and more k’s but whatever. When we arrive at the campground and are checking in, Greg asks her about the Conor Pass. She says we would have had no problem, she regularly goes over in her van our size and she’s says trucks used to use it too but they’ve been banned now. Over cautious county authorities, playing it safe.

Well, we are halfway through our time in Ireland and only a third around it. We will have to get our skates on, maybe even drive on a motorway. Gasp, horror!

Time is creeping away, one week left in Ireland, one month left in the UK, one season left in the Northern Hemisphere, 4 months and we’ll be home to New Zealand. Oh god! Need to change my thinking….126 more days of fun and exploring. That’s better.

Monday 26th August – Happy Birthday Mum.

It’s an early morning for us and by 7.30 we’re checking in to board the ferry to Dublin. Three stories of parking deck, we end up on the top open deck. With lackadaisical efficiency everything is processed and we headed out to sea. This is the third time we changed countries by car ferry now and it’s totally lacks the excitement that flying to a new country has.

There is free on ship wifi which we naturally take advantage of. Unfortunately I notice mid journey we had been dropping off wifi periodically and using marine roaming. Ouch! Kaching! Note to self, from now on if I’m on wifi, turn off mobile data.

Eventually the misty land on the horizon gets closer and closer and we arrive in Ireland. We drive off in a mixed queue of trucks from the bottom deck and cars etc from the others. A guy in a high-vis vest reading immigration waves his hand and asks what nationality? We reply New Zealand and he says, just pull out of the line and I’ll stamp your passports. Very relaxed and that’s it. Another stamp and another country. Back to Euros for a while too.

I’d read back home about a historical lighthouse called Poolbeg in the middle of Dublin harbour you can walk out to. Built in the 1700’s the seawall was 3.5 miles but now with reclamation it’s 2.5km from a little carpark called Shelly Banks so I had planned we would go there first, have a walk and set plans for the rest of the day. Also if the carpark was any good we could stay the night there too. We get within 2kms of the carpark and there is a height barrier of 1.6 metres. Bugger, but as we stopped there in front of it, a cop van goes past and a guard comes out and opens the barrier for him. I go talk to the guard. He says No, campers can’t go through, but we can park and walk. (Later on in the pub we learn they had/have a problem with ‘travellers’ ie gypsies) so we reverse back and find a place to park in a side lane. Google tells me we are 32 minutes walk from the original carpark. We decide to have lunch first then. As we are locking the van to start the walk after lunch I ask a guy sitting in a parked car if we can access the walkway at the end of the lane. Initially he’s ‘just drive down to the carpark ‘ but when I explain about the height, he’s says not to leave our van here. Apparently it’s a dodgy area. There is a scrap metallers just over the way and there are always people trawling around looking for easy pickings. Bloody hell! Ireland!

We drive off and find another spot to park. Actually this one is pretty good. It’s in a residential area, there are a couple of other campers and I’m quite happy to also stay the night here. Its by a canal and looking one way through the windscreen we can see Lansdowne Road Stadium. Immediately in front is the old gasworks converted to apartments (though apparently the walls are like cardboard, if your neighbour sneezes you know). Downside It’s now a 46 minute walk from Shelly Bank carpark.

Anyhow, now we are just determined to do this walk. By the time we get to the lighthouse my phone tells me we’ve walked 6kms. Not quite the easy walk I was planning but it is pretty spectacular. It’s a long way out into the bay and three ships pass by.

It’s a busy port. The third ship is freight and it’s just the truck trailers. This is unusual to see for us. Shipped freight from New Zealand is always in containers or crossing the cook strait, which is a similar distance, the trucks stay with their trailers. We then hike all the way back to our van. A very good, and unexpected, workout for the day.

We’re in Ireland so, of course, we just have to go to a pub. Check out the authenticity of Irish pubs in other countries.

Oh my good, the closest one to us is shut. The sign is out but the lights are off and the door is locked. We go to another one. A guy sitting at the bar, Irish but raised all over the world due to diplomatic parents, says this is in the top 5 Dublin pubs in his opinion hence him being here on a flying visit from work in South Africa. It is a good pub, we sit at the bar chatting with the barman and obviously the guy next to us. Their food menu is pizzas ordered in from somewhere nearby and they have a drinks and food combo deal. Not particularly Irish but maybe it is totally Irish. I’m sure no country only eats and drinks traditionally. Anyhow we get the deal and enjoy our meal. Not quite as good as the pizzas in Italy but definitely better than the Dominos coming out of the shop across the road.

We have a conversation about whether we should go south or north first. I think their answer amounted to a yes. Greg thinks we should go south, the weather is looking better. But first we need to explore Dublin.

27th August

We walk into Dublin centre. First point of business, after coffee of course, is post off a birthday present to my niece, Makayla. Her birthday is next month but as I discovered with her brother, snail mail is really snail speed. I mentally picture a snail clinging to the wings of a plane before sliding off the back edge and landing on the wing of the plane behind, then sliding off that wing onto the plane behind that and so on. We google a post office and end up in this amazing old school, Grand Central Post Office. The building is over 100 years old and inside it’s dark,wood paneling with lead light windowed counters. Later on we find out it was the base for the 1916 rebellion and was bombed extensively by the British navy. That rebellion lead to independence in 1925.

We decide we should do a walking tour and the next one starts at 2pm so we have a leisurely lunch, pie and a pint, walk around a bit then go to the meeting point. The tour was 3 hours long and one of the best we’ve done, in my opinion. My brain is overflowing now with historical information about Dublin and Ireland. Peter explains the history of the language and its future, Gaelic originated in Russia! He read signs so we could hear how it is pronounced. Also talks through the Northern Ireland situation historically and where it sits now and his opinion of what will happen in the future with Brexit. Also the history of religion and the radical changes Ireland has gone through in the last few decades, from totally conservative Catholic to the core to having a Prime Minister in a same sex relationship.

The name Dublin came from the Viking settlement here around Poddle river which opened into a lake they could moor their long boats. The lake started being called ‘Black Pool’, in Gaelic that is ‘Dubh Linn’ and anglicised is Dublin.

He briefly explained about the relationship with Ireland and Britain, thought I confess I’m still don’t fully understand it. And to be fair it’s probably way too intricate for a tour guide and tourist conversation.

Peter also talked about Irish identity, how in a time period when other European country populations doubled Ireland’s halved because of the potato famine and mass emmigration. But now people who associate themselves as Irish are worldwide. Ireland is acknowledging that and basically if you have an Irish grandparent you can get Irish citizenship. There is also talk of opening voting for the president worldwide. My brain is imploding at this stage and I don’t grasp the details. But I totally love the message that a country border does not define a country.

This is all on top of the history and stories about the buildings and areas he takes us to around Dublin.

28th August

We’re down to just half a tank of gas, out of the two bottles so we find a lpg place. Of course it’s not simple. We have German exchangeable bottles and they are not meant to be refilled. The adapter I bought in Germany so we could refill them is male thread not female so won’t work. Thankfully he has an adapter and agrees to partially fill the bottle that is completely empty. This should get us through the uk but to cover us we’ll probably go back there before our ferry back to Wales and do the same with the second bottle which will likely be empty by then. Going to have to factor in a visit to Belgium once we get back to Europe. France and Spain have completely different bottles but Belgium use the German ones. So if we ensure we have two full bottles it should see us through.

From there we go to Forty Foot. This is a promontory on Dublin Bay where you can swim all year round regardless of tides. There are mass swims on Christmas Day, New Year’s Day and St Stephens day. It’s not warm today and there is a cold wind but there is a surprising number of people swimming. Older ladies floating and chatting and men diving of the rocks, all just in normal swimwear. Greg decides he has to go in too, and in both sides of the headland. He is freezing and shivering just after short swims. Total hats off to the locals.

We then head south, leaving Dublin behind. We drive through very wealthy suburbs all with sea views and expensive cars in the drives and head down the coast. Not that you can see it beyond the gated communities and private resorts. We have lunch at Brittas Bay, manage to find a free carpark and go for a walk along the beach. It reminds us of home, could easily be on the Coromandel.

Back on the road and onward. Campgrounds here are really expensive but I’ve found one that’s ‘only’ €25. We need to empty and refill the appropriate tanks, do some laundry and getting wifi is a bonus. We’re managing 4 days off grid which is pretty good though by this morning all our devices were flat and the power packs too since we didn’t drive anywhere yesterday. We can only charge off the solar panel when it’s in full sun and we’re there to monitor it.

…………

It’s coming up to six months of traveling and when I think back on what we’ve experienced, the places that come first to mind are not the pretty or the spectacular. It is the harrowing Sarajevo, the haunting Sudetenland, the brutal Dachau. It’s the heartbreak and despair that bleed into the land which touches the back of your neck as you visit. There are lot of tourist sites built on pain, Waterloo, Culloden, Pompeii. All the ruined castles, forts and abbeys reflect a violent past. A primal need to better oneself at the cost of others. When is mankind going to evolve beyond that? Do tourists visiting reflect on the ‘glory’ of the win or the cost of it?

Interestingly when Greg reflects on the same question, he comes up with totally different places. For him it’s the wild, remote landscape, the light and textures of the countryside, the clarity and vividness which appeals to the photographer in him.

Friday 23rd August

It’s not raining but there is an a amazing dark cloud looming above. Looking out over the Dales it creates a hard line, below which is green farmland lit by sunshine. Promising!

We go for a last walk on the Dales, this time to some caves up behind our camp spot. We’re walking across farmland. Sheep-chewed grass, it’s muddy by the stone walls. We clamber over styes and over more fields. This is foreign to us kiwis where private land is private. Here the walking paths predate the land ownership and so remain a public right. The caves aren’t much, Jubilee Caves are small holes in a crag. Victoria Cave is bigger and has barriers stopping people entering too far. A notice explains they wish to protect the natural structures. But as far as caves go, I’ve seen much much much better. Anyhow this walk isn’t so much about the destination but the journey. And the exercise.

We set course for Beeston Castle, by Chester. Then we hit the traffic. It’s Friday before a bank holiday weekend and to add to that there is a big music festival on our route. Not that we knew about any of that. But as our expected 2 & a half hour journey stretched out, we flagged going to the castle this afternoon and instead made for a campground nearby. We’ll do the castle and Chester tomorrow. It took us 5 hours just to get here.

On a positive note, summer has arrived. At 6pm the weather app is saying 24 degrees, the van gauge is saying 27. Yesterday at this time it was 8 degrees and we were wearing winter clothes, now we’re stripped down to shorts and tees. Long may it last.

24th August

A ten minute drive and we are in Chester. Roman walls, a pretty rose red colour, wrap their way around a mix of Tudor and Victorian buildings. We meander though the lanes, Greg getting a haircut and buying a replacement lens cap. We sit at a street side table, drinking coffee and listening to the buskers. Then rouse ourselves to hike the city walls, it’s a 2 mile circuit and parts of it are better than others. There is an amazing old clock mid arch on the Eastgate bridge which is in the centre of the town. Presumably when the walls were first built in 70AD, all buildings were contained. Now the bridge is surrounded by an area called the Rows. Tudor buildings with two tiers of shops. The upper level accessed by periodic staircases.

We then head south to Beeston Castle. Well, the ruins of Beeston Castle. It’s pretty impressive approaching it. A crumbling pile of rock and stone atop a crag. It’s been occupied since the Bronze Age. Remnants of a wooden round house and early bronze tools have been found on the site. The castle itself dates from the Iron Age, at which time they carved out a deep moat on the sloping land side to make it impenetrable. It looks more impressive from the outside but from the inside it’s all about the location and the views. On a clear day like today you can see from the North Wales mountains to the Pennines. There is a well, apparently the deepest in Britain at over 100 metres. Legend says it’s the hiding place of Richard II’s treasure. I expect it’s a lot shallower now with everyone dropping stones and coins down to gauge the depth.

Greg is keen to be in a pub showing the Liverpool game at 5.30. I fortuitously have downloaded an app called MatchPint which shows you what pubs around you are showing your choice of game. So our first night in Wales is spent in a pub called The Boot Inn in a small place called Northop before we find a pull off on a country lane to sleep. I had been thinking we’d get to Snowdonia but, oh well, there is always tomorrow or next month.

25th August

🎶🎶 Didn’t we have a lovely time, the day we went to Bangor…..🎶🎵. Well it was interesting, I think maybe time has moved on from the ’70’s.

Leaving Bangor instead of ‘cuddling with Jack and opening a bottle of cider’ we crossed the lovely old Menai Suspension Bridge, slowly as it’s not very wide. It was built in 1826 by Thomas Telford, who also created the Caledonian Canal. We crossed over the Menai Strait to the Isle of Anglesey. A bit more info on the bridge. Telford was tasked with reducing travel time to Ireland after it became part of the UK. This bridge and other small improvements he made reduced travelling time from London to Holyhead by 36 hours, from 64 hours to 27! It also reduced the death rate significantly.

We plotted a course around the north coast to take in the sights. We stop for lunch atop rugged cliffs overlooking the Irish Sea. There is heather, bracken and blackberry. White seagulls ride the thermals and a white yacht upon the blue sea just beyond land.

Driving through Amlwch, Greg spots some old cars. A Car Show! Naturally we have to stop and have a wander around. It’s a unusual mixture of makes and models. An unrestored Reliant Robin next to a fully restored VW Combie. An interesting Ford Escort Station wagon pop top 3 berth camper.

We cross over the Cymyran Strait to Holy Island and go to Trearddur Beach. I swear half of Wales is here. It looks like a Wasjig puzzle. Every inch is covered with brightly coloured wind shelters, sandcastles, kites, people sunbathing, picnicking, bbq’ing, eating ice creams or playing games. The water is full of boats of every size, kayaks, paddleboards, parents wading, toddlers paddling, kids splashing and others swimming.

Next to us a father is trying to remove his underpants from under his togs while his children giggle helplessly. He hops on one foot before declaring his underpants were ripping. He concedes defeat and goes for the full strip under a towel instead.

Greg goes for a swim, his first in Wales. He is trying to swim in every country. Well, those with coasts anyway.

We’ve been seeing a few cows in the last few days and I’m finding it quite odd. They are generally all sitting down, some even lying flat on their sides. It is rare to actually see one standing. In New Zealand they are normally all standing with the very odd one sitting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one lying down. Is this because they winter indoors? That maybe they are less active?

Our site for the night is picked for its location rather than its lookout. We have to check in before 7.30 tomorrow morning to the ferry terminal so don’t want to be driving far. That being said it is a pretty view across anchored yachts to a breakwater and harbour beyond.

For our evening walk we head off for the breakwater. On the way we pass an interesting looking abandoned building. Some of it looks really old, a fortress or castle, some of it newer, a pretend castle. No idea what the story is. We ask some youths, who say they think it used to be a hotel. At one point you can get through the wall via a corner tower. It’s so overgrown, neck high goose, blackberry and nettle. Oh my god! Stinging nettle! It is everywhere. And it hides, you don’t know it’s there until it’s got you. And then, sometimes it goes away in a couple of hours, sometimes it tingles and stings for ages. Sometimes it eventually becomes blisters. You never know. For anyone who hasn’t encountered stingy nettle, I would describe the stinging as like the Tens machine they use in phyio.

Monday 19th August

We’re in the Lake District. We spent a night here 7 years ago and said we must come in summer. Haha, it didn’t rain then and it is now. The weather is meant to improve but until it does we’re both feeling frustrated and a bit aimless. We spend the morning looking around Keswick. A pretty little centre. Lots of outdoor shops all having sales of their summer stock. We carry on to lake Bassenthwaite and have lunch at a viewpoint.

We need to decide when we’re going to Ireland and book the ferry. This means actually setting out a loose plan for the next 8 weeks. And will need to take into account Liverpool’s football schedule as Greg would like to go to a game. Plus there is a planned R107 meetup (our older Mercedes) to factor in.

Our camp for the night is a small campground at the northern tip of Lake Bassenthwaite. Found out that Bassenthwaite is technically the only lake in the Lake District. The others are all tarns, meres or waters. Last night when I was joking with the barman about the weather he’d said ‘just between you and me, there are no lakes in the Lake District they’re all just big puddles’ I thought he was joking but maybe not.

We have a long Viber phone call with Tim and Dow in Italy. They’ve been having a heatwave and too hot to do anything, total opposite to us. It’s weird to be so close yet so far away. They’ll be heading to the UK after their 90 days the same time we’re heading back to France. Ships passing in the night, we probably won’t see each other. 😞. It’s sad but when we all get home it’s going to be fantastic to share and compare our differing experiences.

20th August

Another wet morning but it is meant to clear. I know, famous last words haha but I’m feeling optimistic. We have made some plans and have booked the ferry to and from Ireland. Got some direction and the weather BETTER BLOODY WELL GET IN LINE OR IT WILL HAVE ME TO DEAL WITH!

Well it did clear and we did a hike Greg had found online to a waterfall. From there because the weather was okay we carried on up a steep steep track to the hilltop called Bakestall. The views were awesome. You could see the coast and Scotland on the horizon, the lakes and farmland a patchwork in the near distance and all around us mauve purple hillsides. The wind is howling, sending cloud shadows racing over the ground. There are sheep, grey and black shapes moving in the heather. There is so much water, even the steep parts are sodden underfoot. Not muddy though as the grasses seem to grow directly on the slate rocks.

We’re having a very late lunch back at our van when a red squirrel bounds passed. Greg is oh! and grabs his camera. For the next 30 minutes he’s creeping around trying to spot it again or maybe another one. No luck unfortunately and eventually he concedes defeat.

We carry on heading south, past Lake Bassenthwaite and Thirlmere to a spot in the trees overlooking Grassmere. We pull in between a young couple in a station wagon and a large German camper. Time for a pre dinner drink. The setting sun is catching the oak leaves in random spots creating a contrast with the darker unlit branches. It’s very calm, just the caw of an unseen crow.

21st August.

After breakfast we go for a walk through the woods we’re camped in , Lady Woods. It takes us down to the main A road and we cross over to Penny Rock Woods. We end up by a river which we follow upstream to White Moss Woods. Eventually we end up back on the A road and we walk back to and up the road we’re parked on. It’s all Oak trees and moss. Very serene, very quiet. The only red squirrels we see though are painted on a sign.

Back at the van, we drive south through Amberside. This seems to be the upmarket tourist spot in the Lake District. Lots of people, lots of cars. We don’t stop but do admire the dry stone buildings.

We’re heading to Coniston and a walk recommended to us yesterday by an older couple. It’s around a valley with old copper mining remains.

We start on a sealed lane, then gravel, then a narrow track. It climbs the right hand side passing remnants of stone buildings, climbing up the valley before crossing over by the site of a huge waterwheel and curves around two side valleys before coming back down the other side of the original valley.

Sometimes the path is easy to see, other times you are scrambling over rock. Occasionally there are ‘art’ pieces, chains or horse yokes painted with copper paint that let you know you are on the right track.

There is a piece of slate with the words;

Thundering water

turns the vast

creaking

waterwheel

that drains damp mines

and heaves wagons

for

copper ore

from deep underground

shafts and tunnels

This place is raw, no pretty heather here. It’s drab olive green bracken and grey brown rock. Piles and piles of mining scrag, dark mine holes, steep crags. Unlike yesterday the weather doesn’t improve, instead steel grey clouds creep over the mountain tops, wisps insidiously winding down the crevices. It rains. Heavy, wet, cold. We have nowhere to shelter so continue clambering around a rocky outcrop. Thankfully it doesn’t last long and the stiff wind drys us, even if it doesn’t warm us.

Yesterday I twinged my left I.T. band and as we start going back down the valley it starts communicating to me. I discover if I walk on tippy toes it’s not too bad. Feel silly when we come across a family and I’m tottering along in imaginary high heels.

We pause for a celebratory drink in The Sun before returning to the van. Very, very late lunch before we set course for the Yorkshire Dales.

We get an email from the van rental company telling us we’ve incurred a €545. Low Emission Zone toll from Greater London! Bloody Hell, where were the signs? Where was the warning? That’s a frigging expensive lesson! Tell you what, we are definitely not going anywhere near London now on this holiday. I know where it was from and it’s a tunnel we went through because the bridge was closed for maintenance. Rip off diversion. I’m pissed off and a bit upset. But I tell myself, am I going to let it ruin my holiday, my day, my mood. No! Easier said than done but I’ll do my best.

We’re now parked up on top the Yorkshire Dales. Not sure what the difference is between moors and dales, they seem very similar to me. The only thing I note is it’s not heather and bracken, rather grasses.

22 August

The wind howled and the rain bucketed down all night. When we’re motivated enough to move we drive down from the hilltop to the village of Hawes. To get there we had to drive along a flooded lane. The river Ure was lapping at the roadside stone wall and coming over the top in the low places. We wouldn’t have attempted to drive through except we’d seen two cars do it. In the middle of Hawes there is a arched bridge going over the river Gayne. Normally it’s a cascade of little falls curving between stone houses and flowering gardens. Today it a thundering torrent. The news is warning about the expected heatwave this weekend, water your pets, check for hidden obstacles before diving into any water. Really! I am hopeful.

We carry on driving over the Dales. Every dip is a river, every mountain is shrouded. The sheep watch forlornly was we pass, they’re wool bedraggled. The Riddlehead viaduct looms out of the mist.

We stop for lunch by a tarn. Even the ducks are sheltering. The rain lifts after lunch and we go for a walk. There is a circuit around the Tarn, through a fen and a moss then back over farmland. It’s a fairly gentle 7km which brings our hiking for the last 3 days to 28km. Not bad considering the weather. The tarn is rough, the wind raising white caps on the surface. The fen and moss are crossed by boardwalks. Made from plastic decking it’s non slippery and hard wearing. There are regular signboards telling you what you can see, animal life and plants. Of the animals we startled a wren and saw a couple of wild Exmoor ponies, one with a tracker but nothing else. It might have stopped raining but it is still very bleak and the wildlife is probably sheltering somewhere warm. Plenty of animals on the farmland though, sheep, cows and horses. All responding differently to us passing through.

This fen is one of the last remaining sites of its kind in Britain and has many rare species, not that I’d recognise any of them. The moss is a dome shaped raised bog with layers of peat going down over 15 metres and is over 10,000 years old. It is also a carbon soak which is critical in this day and age. It apparently has some very unusual plants like insectivorous sundew. Wow! I confess I didn’t see it but I wouldn’t have recognised it if I did. Though if I’d seen a plant eat an insect I probably would have taken a second look.

We get back to the van and although we could stay the night here ( with a couple of other vans) we backtrack to a spot we passed on the way up before we lost cellphone coverage which we think has an amazing view over the valley, if the clouds lift anytime soon. It also backs into a rock cliff so sheltered from the wind. Funnily enough, one of the other vans turns up here as we’re cooking dinner. Must have had the same thoughts.

The weather might be miserable but this is still an awesome adventure. A couple of days ago (by the Dash waterfall) we were chatting to some people and they commented ‘Not many New Zealanders come here’ And that’s the whole point of our travels…. that was in the Lake District which is a ‘tourist destination’ but we were seeing different aspects of the area. And now, second night on the Yorkshire Dales, it’s wild and remote. It feels old. Even the trees are gnarly, the roads are narrow and pot holed, the farmland harsh. Nothing has changed much here for decades. This is Britain. This is the reason the people from these lands are hardy and adaptable. New Zealanders are known for their ‘number 8 wire’ mentality but the roots of that is here, in this rock and soil.

After dinner conversation leads to,the question ‘Which gives you more pleasure, eating chocolate or drinking coffee?’ My answer was drinking coffee because it is generally in a social situation. But if the pleasure is in the occasion, then have I sidestepped the question? What gives you more pleasure, eating chocolate or drinking coffee?