You got me curious, so I looked up 'Standing Stones o' Stenness.'
Attachment 65807
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You got me curious, so I looked up 'Standing Stones o' Stenness.'
Attachment 65807
For those of you interested in seeing what johnboy saw at the Barnhouse Settlement,
Google maps has mapped it very thoroughly. You can wander around it if you click RIGHT HERE.
Johnboy, if I'm participating too much in your tour, just let me know.
You'll most probably find this interesting too then Jack.
This is regarding the village a couple of hundred yards to the north of the stones.
We went and looked at this at the same time.
Orkneyjar - The Barnhouse Neolithic Settlement
It doesn't seem to be as old as Sara Brae; but it's still bloody ancient!
Seems we were typing at the same time there Jack.Quote:
Originally Posted by Henry Rifle
As for 'participating too much'; hell no!
I actually enjoy it when someone elaborates upon something I've rabbited on about, or picks up on mistakes I've made...I'm not infallible.
Keeps me on my toes, and keeps the grey matter turning over!
All good mate.
:) :) :)
Monday 23rd May.
Didn't do much of anything today; don't have much to write about. so will have a rant instead. Mr Spears will affirm that this is a favourite hissy for me to throw, but it's my hissy fit, mine alone; and I'm gonna throw it.
We got abandoned at the hotel today, our choice, The plan is to take the ferry to the island of Hoy; then walk the inland route to the Old Man of Hoy; about a three hour walk.
Thanks, but no thanks on that one.
I've done my apprenticeship with walking.
The Merkister Hotel, where we're staying, is on the shore of Loch Harray, pretty handily situated to both the major towns on Orkney. It boasts in the blurb of a major re-fit in 2016, but that's ten years back and it's fairly obvious that nothing has happened since.
Over the last ten years the CAVE people (Citizens Against Virtually Everything,) have managed to get legislation through Parliaments banning smoking virtually everywhere, ("It's for your own good,' say these self-righteous snivelling sanctimonious do gooders,) especially where people have traditionally gathered to have fun and enjoy themselves.
And hoteliers risk ignoring this part of their clientele at their own peril.
The other night there were ten smokers standing around outside this very pub, with nowhere to sit out of the wind.
They won't be back...I know I won't be...even if this hotel was in NZ.
And chairs in rooms; a double bed implies two people...so why only one chair as we have here? I pinch that to sit at the pooter; leaving She uncomfortably seated on the bed.
Lighting is another hate. I had to give up working on the pooter last night; one dim light in the centre of the room, and two little ones above the bed is all we have. I could see to type on the screen okay; but I couldn't see to read my notes in my notebook.
Bah humbug!
I reckon it should be mandatory for every hotelier/motelier to spend at least one night in every one of their units...and remedy them to the point that they're satisfied with the conditions they expect their guests to accept.
Rant over. I've spent a lovely day sitting lazing in the sun, catching up with the backlog on my pooter, been for a lovely walk along the loch's edge, looked at the birds, the farms, the scenery...and achieved exactly nothing.
Life.. is all good.
Tuesday 25th May.
Two fine days in a row!
Someone must've pulled the cork and let the genie out of the bottle!
The girls took James' car and headed to Kirkwall for a Girls' Shopping day.
James wasn't feeling too crash-hot after yesterday's excursion/exertion so decided to blob for a bit to catch up on e-mails etc.
Charlie also spent time on the pooter; working out accommodation for us upon our return to Scotland, while I swotted up a book I'd bought the other day about Orkney in general.
Truly fascinating...a history that predates Egyptians, Greeks, Aztecs...and they've got the artefacts to prove it.
James surfaced around 10:00, so we headed out to Warkmile (sp) Cove, they took the dog for a walk down on the beach while I stayed in the car swotting my book.
On again to Kirkwall for lunch, where I ordered tomato soup and a sandwich,
It duly arrived, I took one look and said: That doesn't look like tomato soup.
"No, We've run out of tomato; that's onion."
Splutter! Onions, celery, leeks are anathema to me; get that shit out of my sight! (Leeks are the worst...just the smell of them and I'm dry-retching...can't help it.)
"Oh. So what do you want to replace the soup?"
Squid rings.
Which duly arrived...after James and Charlie had finished their meals. They were squid rings, not onion rings, but they'd been cooked in the same vat as onion rings...betcha boots...I could taste it...not good.
And then they had the temerity to try to charge for my soup?!?!
Yeah right!
Okay...backtrack a bit to Tankerness and Rerwick Head, the site of gun emplacements protecting Scapa Flow during WWII.
We wandered around here for more than two hours, raising more questions than we could supply answers.
I must try to find out more about (relatively modern) land-based defensive gunnery architecture.
Then headed back toward Kirkwall. I had noticed a dead tractor farm opposite the airport the other day that had a pretty cool looking Fergy 35X in front of the main building; so when Charlie said "Shall we call in?" I couldn't say 'No.'
Crikey am I glad we did! The owner, Stevie Ross, gets his main source of income from honouring guarantees on and servicing JCB equipment in the Orkneys...but the man's crazy. He's an idiot. In the nicest possible way. A man after my own heart. One helluva decent bloke with a wicked sense of humour. I could get on well with this fella.
Charlie had to come and virtually prise us apart so as to get back in to town to meet the girls.
(During our conversation Stevie told me that there are only fifteen dairy farms still extant on Mainland Orkney...there's just no money in it anymore.)
But Stevie had given me an important contact name and number in Kirkwall; a fella who can supply brand new 35X body panels. Imagine that...a Kiwi comes to Orkney, (of all places,) meets a fella who knows a fella, who can supply impossible to source obsolete tractor parts manufactured in Belgium, (of all places,) and can ship them to me.
Home | Electrical Suppliers | Kirkwall | Derek Ryrie UK
Of all the improbable scenarios; this one takes the biscuit.
Jane and James were very patient with me while I found Derek Ryrie's place of work and ordered the parts I need...thanks people; much appreciated!
O frabjous day, calloo callay...one very happy Kiwi kid went back to the hotel.
Wednesday 25th May.
Charlie and Christine have a car load with the dog taking up all the space behind the back seat, so we've been travelling with Jane and James. Today's our last day in Orkney, so around 10:00 we departed the hotel, headed for a last look at Kirkwell, for the girls to do a last bit of window shopping. Backfired a bit; I found some cheap Dark Island beer at a 'Closing Down Retirement Sale', so bought their entire stock at less than two quid a bottle...three bottles for five quid.
Headed for Sturmness and the ferry, and saw the first lot so far of paddock grazing dairys, a herd of about 180 mainly fresian with some jersey cross...good looking well conditioned animals too.
Lunch at the Ferry Inn, and a wander around the town, the headed for the ferry, departing Hamnavoe at 5:00. Heading out of the harbour I noted more defensive positions both sides of the entrance, on Mainland Orkney and Graemsay Island. They would've (obviously) been there on our arrival but I hadn't realised then what they were.
Arrived Scrabster 6:15, and headed for the Melvich Hotel at Portskerra 6:15.
Civilisation! (Sort of!) There was room to walk down both sides of the bed, which was itself a proper King-size, not two singles pushed together with a trough where the two mattresses met, the lighting was adequate, (not great...but adequate,) and there was room to get dressed in the shower/toilet area without knocking things off shelves or into the basin.
And the meal was alright too.
All good.
Thursday 26th May.
Departure again about 10:00, Charlie turned off a few miles back up the road from Port Skerra, and headed to Helmsdale across a road reminiscent of our Gentle Annie (Taihape to Napier,) fifty years ago, Single lane pretty well all the way, no fences to the sides, with the occasional fence at right angles to the road , going for miles in each direction and a cattle stop (grid) in the road itself. Even the terrain was of a similar nature; with high ranges towering over the valleys.
Arrived Helmsdale and it was time for morning tea...3/4 of an hour before we got mobile again.
Followed the east coast down for several miles, (a reversal of our trip up to Orkney,) to Inverness.
And went looking for a 'Nessie' (the Loch Ness Monster) tee shirt for bathy's boy Ross. What a bloody Mission! Round and round in circles looking for a park, eventually succeeded, then had to walk up and down bloody hills to get back to the shops!
And then had to search the shops. Found a couple eventually, and bought them for him...Crikey Gary, if Ross doesn't like these bloody shirts I'm gonna rip his arm off and beat him over the head with the wet end!
(Just jokin' mate; just jokin'. Don't scare the poor wee bugger!) But we drove out two hours after entering the place.
Headed out of Inverness looking for a munchy by now; so Charlie stopped at the first place out of town: The Dairy at Daviot. So lunch was at 3:30 today.
Quite a flash place; with a large playground with swings, slides, trampoline, moon-hoppers etc for kids to entertain themselves, while the ground was covered with large machine-masticated chunks of rubber chip.
Left here about 4:30 and headed for the Ailean Chraggan Hotel at Aberfeldy for the night.
Arriving about 6:30.
Lots of wide open empty country out there on that first leg to Helmsdale; bet'cha it's good for sky watching on a clear night.
.
Yep; I'd say you'd be right.Quote:
Originally Posted by Rrumbler
With 'clear night' being the operative words; they're pretty few and far between it seems
And you'd have to get to the top of the hills to do it; and that in itself could turn in to a bit of a mission. The hills and valleys here were formed by glacial action in the last ice age and are therefore pretty (understatement) steep and unstable, with screes of loose metal that would be as unstable as a box of frogs.
But the view from the top would be magnificent when you got there; with an absolute minimum of light pollution.
Friday 27th May.
Departed Aileen Chraggan Hotel around 9:30 and headed for the 'Scottish Antiques and Arts Centre at Doune', a rather large complex between Doune and Collander. Not really my cup of soup, nor Rosie's. On a scale of 1 to 10 antiques would be about 2.5 - 3 for both of us. And Art?...it would hardly make the scale at all.
Never mind...just 'cos we're interested in the old stuff as is up in the Orkneys doesn't mean we're interested in old stuff from 1910. Them's the breaks.
Morning tea here; but not for me...just a cuppa will do thanks.
Then on to Workhouse Kitchen Station at Stirling, arriving about 2:15 for lunch. Okay, I'm a bit peckish now; I'll have a bowl of soup (carrot and orange; surprisingly tasty,) and a couple of slices of toast.
While the others were eating I wandered about and bought myself a few beers from the 'Fallen Brewing Co.' called 'First Class Rendezvous Porter'.
Finally arrived at Charlie and Christine's at Ruh at around 4:15.
Repacked cars, transferring all of our gear into Jane and James' car, and set out for their place at Killbride, arriving about 6:00.
They've been gradually renovating their house over the last few years and have done a magnificent job; hardly recognisable as the Head Groom's quarters they started with.
Well done indeed.
Saturday 28th May.
James is looking at building a retaining wall alongside a couple of banks he excavated during renovations. I wouldn't be so presumptuous as to tell him what to do; but I could (and did,) relate our experiences with building retaining walls, and what traps there were for the unwary.
He's okay for backfill; he'd thought ahead and stockpiled all the fill he'd excavated, the man's no fool...he knew he'd need it again.
He also mentioned that he's got a lot of used bricks that are going to require a lot of work cleaning to remove old mortar.
"Ummm...no. They're not a lot of work; there's an easy way. Put your bricks in a plastic 60 litre fish-bin, fill with water, and pour in a half a cup or less of nitric acid. It's relatively cheap, and readily available from hydroponic gardening supply stores. Leave for three or four days, remove the bricks, and the mortar will just about fall off. Replace them with another load of bricks, and replenish the acid when it stops working.
Easy as. Just be careful not to splash even the diluted acid, and wear gloves; this stuff itches like an armpit full of fleas if you get it on your skin."
It's still not a fast job; but it's a helluva lot faster and easier than chipping away with a hammer and chisel.
He also told me that due to regulations he must build a ramp for wheelchair-bound people to gain access to the house before the alterations will be signed off.
And we thought our regulations were petty and preposterous...sheesh!
I took a walk over there ranch, at tops it would be about three acres total; but there's a lot of potential here to transform it into something really outstanding...and they're well on their way to doing just that.
There's been a lot of thought gone into this place already.
She cooked her famous corn and cheese chowder for lunch, (it went down well,) and got nearly three weeks worth of washing done.
A day off touring; just played catchup.
All good.
Ruh where Charlie and Christine live is that an abbreviation for town or village as I can't find it on goggle earth Johnboy ? I have managed to find most places you have mentioned and am really enjoying your story telling etc.
Ruh is an area within a suburb.
Just as Ava or Randwick are areas (perhaps 'villages' would be a better term,) in Petone, which is a suburb of Lower Hutt, which is, in turn, lumped in to the greater Wellington area; so Ruh is an area in the suburb of Helensborough, which is part of the greater Glasgow area.
Just a dot on the map.
Sunday 29th May.
Bank Holiday Weekend.
Scotland is closed...the entire UK is closed.
Went and sussed out timetables etcetera for a ferry trip to Arran to-morrow.
Today is Jane's birthday, and Friday was their neighbour Ian's, both of them turning fifty.
So a celebratory party was in order.
These Scotties don't muck around with beer at their parties; it's straight in to the Scotch Whiskey. I was the only beer drinker there...and I reckon I was the most sober out of the lot of them too...even Granny downed a few bucket sized glasses of Pims.
A great evening's entertainment.
Monday 30th May.
Decided there wasn't much point in heading across the water to Arran; everything (apart from the tourist traps,) would be closed for Bank Holiday. So spent most of the morning on the pooter working out (with a lot of input from both Jane and James) our next step into the Lakes District and how to best organise our run to Maison Goose.
Okay: rental car is organised and paid for, (that had to be done through their agency at Glasgow Airport, the only agency that was open,) railway tickets from York to Kings Cross (returning the car at York Railway Stn.,) are booked and paid for, (through the interweb; never spoke to a human,) arriving Tuesday 7th June around 2:00 pm, then tube to St Pancras, change to Green District Line to Paddington, getting off at Southfields.
With a taxi from there to Goose's place.
And our first night's accommodation at Travelodge Carlisle M6 (CA 40 NT) is booked and paid for too.
So that part is pretty well organised...until some bastard throws a spanner in the works. (I've found it pays to always look on the bright side.)
I also got on to https://uk.yahoo.com/ and found some of the major attractions in the area that had appeal for us...there's an awful lot out there (and this is just in the immediate Lakes District,) to see!
So hopefully we're pretty well organised for the next few days.
Late arvo we decided to take a bit of a break, and a last look around the area; so we all headed in to Ardrossen for a drink and an ice-cream down by the port.
"What's your darkest beer?"
He tried to give me a cider...yeah right!
"No; darkest beer," speaking slowly so that he could understand proper English properly pronounced and enunciated.
He indicated a tap beer.
"Okay; I'll have a half pint."
It was bloody horrible...an IPA, too sweet and too light.
But I drank it.
One whiskey, (with water,) two diet Cokes, one half-pint IPA beer, and four ice-cream sundaes cost me nearly fifty quid. Around NZ$100...and I wasn't going to waste that!
All in all not a bad day.
Tuesday 31st May.
Our last day at Kilbride with Jane and James. We're going to miss these two buggers; they're both great company.
Jane had to work, so we went with James to Ayr to pick up the rental car we'd organised yesterday...and found we'd been upgraded to a 2014 Vauxhall Zafira Courier CDTI people mover. But...it has no GPS; and I'm not going anywhere without one of those puppies.
The car wasn't quite ready, so in the interim we shot around to an electrics store and bought ourselves a Tom-tom.
Back to the rental car people, (Enterprise,) plugged the GPS in, James said he'd lead us through the first few roundabouts to ensure we at least started in the right direction; then he'd leave us to it.
Thanks mate! Your blood's worth bottling!
Got to the first roundabout, indicated a right turn...and the bloody windscreen wipers started flapping at full steam across the screen in front of me!
I'm trying to turn them off on one side, indicators on on the other side, steer the car, keep aware of other traffic and the lane I'm in...
Crikey!
The only other vehicle I've met with indicators left, wipers right, was a Russian Lada!
But we made it around safely.
James pulled off, we carried on, (thanks for that mate!) heading for Eastriggs.
Stopped for a munchy around 1:00 at a wee place called Carsphairn, where the local store, take-away, and Post Office was temporarily working out of the local village hall.
But they still managed to rustle up a great feed for both of us at a very reasonable price.
(My auto spell-check is having a field day with these Scottish names!)
On again, getting closer to Eastriggs, and we both spotted a wee cemetery on the right.
"That's it!"
U turn, parked up...and yes; it was.
We started at the back, where the older graves are, and worked our way forward, She on one side, me on the other. As it turned out we should've done it the other way round and started at the front; because they were fifth row in from the front on the right, on the left of that row, and at the very far end.
Rosie's Grand-parents.
Eventually left, and headed for Travelodge at Carlisle on the M6 CA40NT.
We did find it...but with not much help from Tom-tom.
Booked in...and who knows what to-morrow may bring?
It's all good.
June 1st? still got your calendar set to NZ?
Oops!
Mea culpa!
You are exactly right.
At the bottom r/h side of my screen the date reads 1/06/2016.
I've got to consciously remember it's a day ahead.
Tonight?
Brain fart...remedied now.
Thanks jerry!
:o :o
Wednesday 1st June.
Left Travelodge heading for a Rum Museum at Whitehaven. Lucy. the gps, played silly games for a while by refusing to recognise anywhere we plugged in; instead just showing the position of the car at the moment. We finished up pulling off the road entirely and going through the rigmarole right from square one about three time before the message finally sank in.
I noticed that the local farmers are busy harvesting their spring surplus growth as silage, whereas the cockies in the Orkneys are only now shifting their cows outside. These fella's season must be six to ten weeks ahead of Orkney.
Got to Whitehaven eventually...and then spent about half an hour driving around and around the place looking for somewhere to park...every time I saw one the car two or three in front of me pulled into it.
Bugger this for a game of soldiers; we'll wipe this one off the list and head for the Beatrix Potter Centre.
Lucy was behaving now; so off we went. About five miles along the road and we saw a sign saying 'Museum of Mining', thought: "That sounds interesting", so swung off the road to investigate, and almost immediately passed a hotel boasting a Coffee Shop. That sounds even more interesting as it's about time for tucker, so did a U turn and headed back.
Came over the top of a slight rise, there was one helluva BANG, the car did a wobble...we'd had a blow-out.
Thankfully it was a quiet rural road and at about 25-30 mph.
These are 'drive-flat' tyres (I know; 'cos I'd queried the lack of a spare when we picked the car up,) so limped back to the hotel car park...about 100 yards.
The nice lady at the hotel rang the car hire people, they told her to ring AA Breakdown, which she did, and they said they'd have a man there in about half an hour.
Yeah right!
Hour and a half more like.
But on the bright side we'd had a very good lunch by then...bacon, chicken, and cheese in a toasted roll...bloody gorgeous.
The AA man eventually showed; they have various discs with various stud patterns drilled through them,; but all have protruding studs to suit their (AA's) spare tyre.
But...such was the offset on their rim it jammed into the disc-pad mounts...didn't fit.
So he tried it on a rear tyre...nah...same thing.
So nothing for it but to mount the car on a dolly and tow it back to civilisation.
Which was Kendal; over an hour's drive away...where it was all fixed (at no cost to us,) and we were back on the road by 4:30...in a strange town we knew nothing about...looking for reasonably priced accommodation for two for the night...during rush hour.
Sheesh!
It got a bit fraught. (Understatement.)
But we found one...the County Hotel Kendal.
Sixty-five quid a night including brekky...but no wifi.
Ah well; beggars can't be choosers...we took it.
Saw a lot of countryside but no 'sights' and yet the whole day was filled.
I'd prefer to carry a spare tyre myself; and save myself from this sort of hassle/aggravation/irritation...I'd have been back on the road inside twenty minutes tops...
Bah humbug!
Johnboy, sorry to hear of your issues. A friend I work with bought a new Chrysler mini van for his wife and he never thought to check for the spare tire at the purchase time. He found out before she went on a trip that she didn't have one. He wasn't thrilled at all. It seems the auto manufacturers will do what ever to cut costs these days. Anyway, your trip sounds very nice! I've been following on google too. I'm not sure we'll get to any of the places you're going. Stay safe and have fun!
Johnboy, I like Ryan am sorry to hear of the problems and he is correct, most of us will never get there but we have enjoyed the ride with you, I am already wondering where "we" will go next with you?? Heck until a month ago I would have thought something called black pudding was inedible!
Thanks for the kind words folks; and glad that you enjoy my scribbles.
Thursday 2nd June.
Dithered about a bit this morning before getting mobile, the dashboard was telling me that tyre pressure was low, and I've got my Irish up enough that I'm not going to check them, Enterprise (who have a yard just across the street,) can do it.
So I made them.
There's also a wee furniture store on the corner just across the road; and they have the perfect present in their window for a mate that has a birthday coming up shortly. So I had to wait for them to open too...and that wasn't until just after 9:30.
Crikey...a basic law of trade...if the punters can't get in they can't buy...if they can't buy you don't sell = no income.
Eventually sorted, tyres pumped, purchase made, and on the road heading for Beatrix Potter Gallery this time, not Centre, at Hawkshead.
Shortage of parking here too, finished up parking in an area 'Reserved for Local Disc Holders Only. All Others Clamped.'
I'll take my chances.
Spent a delightful hour or more revisiting my childhood through the Gallery via Peter Rabbit, Jemimah Puddleduck et al, returned to the car, worked out our next call, and... hello...here's some clown in a uniform bearing down on us.
"Good morning Officer, am I pleased to see you! Could you please tell us the route to Conistan?"
So he spent the next five minutes explaining in fine detail the same route we had already plugged in to Lucy...then sent us on our way with a smile and a wave and no ticket...you just got conned bro.
The route we'd chosen took us over the fells (moors,) to Coniston, initially through narrow single car-width lanes enclosed on both sides with six foot tall stane dykes with the occasional passing bay...slow 2nd and 3rd gear driving. Once out on the fells proper the road was no wider; but you could at least see opposing traffic approaching.
Very scenic.
Arrived Coniston, and lunched at Headwater Hotel, which was the base for both Malcolm and Donald Campbells' water speed efforts in Bluebird.
Next stop was the local museum which paid homage to both Campbells, had the remains of the (crashed boat. It was this crash that killed Donald Campbell.) Bluebird on display, but also had displays of Arthur Ransome's works.
Very interesting...they even had the original dinghy 'Amazon' on display, which had featured in many of Ransome's books.
Spent a happy couple of hours here.
So on toward Whitehaven.
And the clutch started slipping.
Badly.
Bugger.
And I'd lost half the length of travel on the clutch pedal, it was smoking and had that clutch-pedal-slipping smell.
Limped to our destination for the evening, Moresby Hall, booked in, by then it was 5:30, so no use ringing Enterprise, the car hire people, so rang AA...again.
They'll have a man here by 6:30.
Yeah right!
He arrived 7:30.
Got in the car, started it, put it in 6th gear, let the clutch out slowly...and it stalled.
Did the same again...and again...and again...and it stalled every time...not a hint of slippage.
I was standing there with my mouth so wide open it could've held a fortnight's rain.
"How on earth did you achieve that?"
He explained that it's quite a common fault with this particular model of Vauxhall, the clutch pedal mechanism doesn't return fully, leaving the clutch not fully engaged; hence the slippage. He'd just put his toe under the pedal and lifted it to the full length of its stroke.
Problem solved.
I've felt like a big damn-fool at other times in my life, but never a bigger one than right now.
You live and learn.
Friday 3rd June.
The proprietor of the pub we're staying in gave us the gen on where to find a parking place in Whitehaven, so this morning we went and sussed it out.
All good, so parked up for two free hours and went to find the Rum Museum @ 27 Lowther St in Whitehaven.
Spent pretty well all our free allocated parking time in there!
A very interesting museum that's very informative without becoming too academic or pretentious; but covering all aspects of rum's history involving the slave trade in the Caribbean, and American, Scottish, and English involvement over the last 300 years.
Pirates and Spaniards were in the mix as well; it was obviously very lucrative for those involved...especially the Jeffersons, who owned this particular distillery and Bond Store.
(Makes me wonder if the were tied up with Thomas Jefferson, who's plantation at Monticello we visited last year...) A fascinating experience...thoroughly enjoyed it, Although I didn't really enjoy the free tasting at the end of the tour,,,too spicy for my palate. But I drank it...and Rosie's as well...I ain't gonna waste it!
Next stop was the Haig Colliery Mining Museum. This pit was sunk in 1914. and closed March 1986. During this period it had three major disasters, one fella told me that around 1100 lives were lost in total. So it would've been an interesting place to visit.
But it has closed.
But it's a beautiful sunshiney day; so we went for a walk along the cliff tops instead.
We could see a land-mass out there, but lacking local knowledge didn't know whether it's Ireland or the Isle of Man.
Ravenglass Railway. Don't go. Totally tourist oriented. Get 'em in and gut 'em. The museum part of it could've been interesting; but I'll never know. It was closed...at the height of their tourist season. We didn't stay long.
Back at the hotel and wandered up the hill and across the road to view the church and its surrounding cemetery.
St. Margarets Church Moresby.
Built I'm told in the mid 1800s it's obviously in regular use, but it's looking decidedly tired and dilapidated, the stained glass leadlight windows are in real danger of collapsing, and even something as simple as a lick of paint on the beautiful wooden doors wouldn't go amiss.
Wandered around the cemetery too...it's unkempt, unloved, and uncared for. A flock of sheep wouldn't go amiss here either to keep the grass down.
So many of the tombstones read: 'Killed in Such-and-such Mining Disaster. aged 41, Killed in So-and-so Mining Disaster, aged 25', and so on and so on...tragic.
So many young lives wasted wantonly by the mine owners; and all for the almighty pound note.
I'm a firm believer in Trade Unions, (provided they're uncorrupted, and don't start to think the tail can wag the dog,) the unions have done great things for the working classes over the years.
I digress.
The oldest (semi) legible tombstone we found here was dated September 17 1663.
And that's a long while ago.
All good.
A great day out in the sun.
[QUOTE=johnboy;557938]Friday 3rd June.
I'm a firm believer in Trade Unions, (provided they're uncorrupted, and don't start to think the tail can wag the dog,) the unions have done great things for the working classes over the years./QUOTE]
Excellent commentary on a very delicate subject, at least in this neck of the woods.
Seems many of the worker safty laws that count were written with some workers blood for ink
That car sounds like a pile JB! Hopefully it makes it through your trip. Hopefully enterprise doesn't find out you're a hot rodder! They'll blaim you for the additional wear and tear! :LOL:
I'd say you've just defined the dilemma! Show me a trade union that's not corrupted, and that doesn't believe that they can "wag the dog"' Back in the day of the sweatshops the trade unions provided a necessary function, but since then....... As Ken said, a commentary on a sensitive subject, and it may well be an entirely different story in NZ compared to the USA.Quote:
Originally Posted by johnboy
Well said. I've been on both sides of the fence; as an employer and an employee. And I can state categorically that if I have a good man in my employ I'll bend over backward to retain him.Quote:
Originally Posted by rspears
But if he wants to play silly games I'll wallop him so hard with silly games he won't know whether it's Saturday or raining.
I think I've mentioned on here before that a previous employee once described me as: 'The hardest bastard I've ever worked for; but also the fairest and best boss I've ever had.'
So things have to be reciprocal...it can't be all give on the bosses part...the employee has to deliver as well
We've had our share of short-sighted union officials...in the '70s - '80s Ken Mair was directly (or indirectly,) responsible for the closure of four freezing works...Longburn, Patea, Southland, and Waitara.Quote:
Originally Posted by rspears
50% of the population are of below average intelligence; and they make up the bulk of those working in semi-skilled jobs in freezing works. So they couldn't see that it was Mair that lost them their jobs, he didn't close the freezing works; it was the bosses that shut them down wasn't it?
Not Mair.
Literally thousands of jobs lost; and entire towns virtually destroyed.
And let's not get on to Roger Douglas...
Yep...we've had them too.
But that's not to say that all union officials are bad news. There are many doing a fantastic job for the people they represent.
Saturday 4th June.
Wandered down for breakfast about 7:15, only to be told that breakfast won't be available until around 8:00. We're paying 100 quid a night here for bed and breakfast, that's about NZ $200; so I'm not leaving here breakfast-less!
So we waited 'til 8:00 and got our brekkies.
First stop was Keswick where we stopped at the Derwent Pencil Museum in the grounds of the Cumberland Pencil Co., Manufacturing Pencils Since 1832.
On the door of the museum was written: 'Closed for Refurbishment.'
Sigh.
Okay, carry on, and a few miles down the road was a sign pointing to 'Greystoke!'
Well dang me!
I didn't know that the place actually existed!
Those of you out there that (like me,) spent their childhood with their nose stuck in a book will know that 'Lord Greystoke' was the real name/title of Edgar Rice-Burroughs' famous fictional character Tarzan.
(A piece of totally useless information of interest to me alone.)
Pulled off for a late lunch at a Subway at some out-of-the-way fuel station. Decided to tour this area a bit to see what's here; so started on a mini Tiki Tour...and came across a shop called 'Simply Dutch' in the wee village of Leeming Bar. (North Yorkshire.)
'We buy and sell everything' it said across the front; so that's got to be worth a look.
And it was.
'We buy junk and sell antiques', said another sign inside. And that was true. An amazing collection/selection of damned near anything you'd care to name.
Very very interesting indeed.
Around the corner was a wee pub, the White Rose, so we decided to enquire if they had a room to spare for the night. They did; so we took it, and then wandered around the village itself.
There's a railway station immediately behind the pub, a branch line that has been closed by British Rail; so a bunch of rail enthusiasts have taken it over, along with assorted rolling stock including locos (steam and diesel.) and assorted carriages.
Had quite an interesting talk to a fella there, who told us to do a tour of the next village along while we're here...Bedale. (sp. It may have two 'e's.)
This village epitomised the image I had in my head of what a rural English village was like; the shopkeepers were amiable personable people, and the locals stopped and chatted in the street.
"Hello Mrs Jones; 'ow's your Bert's lumbago?"
Loved it.
Back to the White Rose; and it turns out that the chef there, Gordon, is a Kiwi from Auckland! Hates it here, and badly wants to return to Godsown country. But he and his wife has split; and this is where his kids are.
Another good day.
(A piece of totally useless information of interest to me alone.)
Ummmm . . . nope. I was a Tarzan fan from the time I could read. Movie serials, TV programs, comic books, etc.
Back to the White Rose; and it turns out that the chef there, Gordon, is a Kiwi from Auckland! Hates it here, and badly wants to return to Godsown country. But he and his wife has split; and this is where his kids are.
Exactly the same reason my brother is still living over there in Middlesborough although his son has finished university and started an excellent job as a Design/Mechanical Engineer with Caterpillar UK at there assembly plant between Middlesborough and Newcastle.
Sunday 5th June.
Departed the White Rose a bit after 8:00, brekky this morning started a bit after 7:00; so everything happened a wee bit earlier than has been happening.
The proprietor's father was there to help out, and after breakfast came out as we were packing the car.
He told us that a 'must-do' was the village/town of Thirsk if I had ever read any of James Herriot's books; because this is where they were based; on Thirsk and the surrounding areas. I don't know whether I've read them all (All creatures Great and Small was the first as far as I know,) but I've certainly read a lot of his work and enjoyed them.
So that was our first stop, took us about three hors to 'do' the place, about two of those hours were spent in the museum The World of James Herriot.
A great way to pass a cold overcast morning.
All good.
And so into York itself, an absolute nightmare of a place to drive with winding narrow streets and route indicators so grubby and overshadowed by advertising hoardings that by the time you see then it's too late to react.
Thank god we came a day earlier on Sunday rather than Monday...the traffic will be worse to-morrow.
We spent the rest of the day wandering around the very inner city. I'm told it was originally built by the Vikings; which ain't so long ago when you compare it to Orkney!
We didn't find either of the two hotels we were told to look for; instead we're booked in to the Royal York Hotel which is right next to the station. I can see the trains as I sit here at the window, which, thank God, is double glazed!
And we found where to return the car on Tuesday.
So that's all good too.
Monday 6th June.
Wandered along to the railway station first, spoke to the man at Enterprise car rentals, (their office was closed yesterday,) then sussed out where the return car park is at the station.
So that's all good.
Then walked to the National Railway Museum about a quarter of an hour's walk away, although it took us a bit longer than that; we stopped in a wee park that had been a mass burial ground for cholera victims some time in the early 1800s as I remember - forgot to write it down.
Across the road to another wee park immediately outside our hotel, and there in the middle of a flower bed was a stone about seven inches across and carefully hand-painted with the legend: David Warren 9/9/13.
Don't know what that's about; but it must mean something to someone.
Then wandered up to the museum, arriving about 10:30. First thing I noticed was a wee 'road-train' thing I'd seen touring the roads of the city yesterday, and had noted that it tracked true even five cars back...so I asked the driver if the back axles of the trailers were contra-steered and would he mind if I had a look at them.
"Yes and no," was his reply; so I crawled underneath one. Yep, he's right; they're contra-steered alright...a very simple arrangement but obviously very effective.
Okay, in to the museum, it's free to enter, (I like that,) but a small donation would be appreciated. So I gave them six quid; is that small enough?
There's just so much to see here that words couldn't possibly do it justice. Best advice would be to visit:
nrm.org.uk
(Hope the link works.)
We left there about 3:45, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
She dipped out about 1:30, spent the rest of the time there sitting in a shady spot in a sort of coffee garden place...and I only opted out when my bad knee and back started to complain.
Highly recommended.
Active Link - National Railway Museum Neat place!
Thank for the correct link Roger; that place is truly fascinating...loved it!
Tuesday 7th June.
Took the car down to the Enterprise car park about 8:15, their man pulled in a matter of seconds behind us, returning another car, so he checked ours out while he was there. I asked if it would be okay for us to leave our gear in his office for a couple of hours...yep, no problem...so we did, and then proceeded to wander around exploring the immediate environs. The bicycle park intrigued me; I reckon there must be somewhere around 2,000 bikes there, all chained to pipe stanchions...some of them have obviously been abandoned for some considerable time. judging by their flat tyres.
Why don't they photograph the place at midnight once a month for six months and then remove the ones that are still there?
Went to the Virgin Rail stand and verified that our train would leave from platform 6 at 12:03, chucked a bit of cheek at the young fella (Chris,) who was manning the stand at got it thrown straight back at me; a great sense of humour that man...he certainly made me laugh.
Half an hour later he came running down the platform "Oy! Your train's about ready to go!"
Nah mate; that's the 10:03. ours is the 12:03.
"Oops! Bugger! I got it wrong!"
Yep, you did; but it was good of you to think of us and come looking...much appreciated.
An hour later we went to retrieve our bags...and the man from Enterprise was not at his office...it was locked...with our bags inside. He returned, we grabbed our bags, and headed for the lifts we'd sussed out earlier...now labelled: 'Out of Order'.
Bugger!
We now had to haul four heavy bugs up the steps of the bridge and down the steps on the other side...another ten minute delay.
Then find the appropriate carriage, get our bags on and stacked away, and find our seats...and there's someone in them...our seats; shove off.
They did.
Just as well;, after the delays and exertion I was in no mood to argue.
At our first stop our conductor came on the intercom to tell us there would be a long delay due to a large fire beside the track near Redford, and Emergency Services have stopped all services passing.
Finally arrived London nearly an hour and a half late.
Thanks to instructions both Jane and Ben (Goose,) we were able to suss out the Underground system relatively easily; but how to pay for your ticket?
Thanks to an explanation from a porter who showed us how to use our credit cards at the barriers we were able to suss that out too.
And by asking various people we got to where we wanted to be: Southfields, on the District line.
And there was Goose waiting for us on the other side of the road.
Boy am I glad to see you!
Just a five minute walk to chez Carter, and 'Hi!' to Liz and wee George, (crikey but he's grown!) and an evening playing catchup with good friends...and (quite) a few adult beverages.
What else could you want or need.
All good.
Actually; we're about over this tourist caper...we've been a lot of places, seen a lot of things, met with some bloody fine and interesting people...but I'm going to be glad to blob for a couple of days, and home is starting to sound pretty damned fine to me...
That always drives me nuts when people are setting in your seats. Every time it seems these folks are hoping no one will show up and claim the seats they desire.............
Wednesday 8th and Thursday 9th June.
Didn't do much of anything these last couple of days, but have wandered around the shopping precinct in the village of Southfields yesterday, and I took a walk around the block Goose and Liz live in...about four miles at a rough guess.
Goose had told me of a strange habit the poms have; when the sun comes out after a week or two of relatively cloudy weather, they take their clothes off and sit in the sun. He's right. I saw it yesterday. As I walked through the park I could see a couple of young women lying in the middle in bikinis, and a fella sitting on a bench at the edge wearing just shorts and a singlet.
And that sun was very HOT!
And he was very WHITE!
They're all three going to be very sunburnt today.
(Although I couldn't see the women clearly enough to note if they already had a tan or not.)
Goose had mentioned too that several houses in the area had been bombed by the Germans during WWII, and had subsequently been rebuilt. Once I knew that; I could pick which ones they were, and by pacing out the length of the 'new' (circa 1950,) 'blocks' could guesstimate how many homes had been destroyed.
In one 'block' a total of fourteen homes had been destroyed - and there were two more blocks of a similar size in the immediate neighbourhood.
Today, Thursday, we took the Underground (except it's not underground out here,) out to Wimbledon, the next-but-one stop on the line. I'm not a great fan of cities; they're heartless soulless places full of hustle and bustle, with everybody either running around like chooks with their heads cut off or they're trying to syphon money out of your pockets.
But we wandered around for four or five hours and came back to Goose's place.
What is this life,
if full of care;
we have no time
to stop.
And stare.
You can't stop and stare in a city; you'd get run over. By either a pedestrian, a pram, a car, or a coach.
Something I have noted in the UK is that they're well in to renewable energy, with literally acre upon acre of large solar panel 'farms'. As well, there would be many thousands of wind turbines dotted all over the place. Even Orkney had its fair share of them.
And we're headed for home to-morrow. Not looking forward to the flight; but I am looking forward to my own chair in my own house, with an ashtray and a beer on my own table beside me.
But it has been fun. We've both had a ball.
Bloody gorgeous.
Bummer dude! I vote you stay on holiday another couple weeks.........the ramblings are too entertaining not to have with breakfast each day. Be safe.........
I hope your trip home is not too uncomfortable; like some cute little girl in some movie was known to say: "there's no place like home"; and the older you get, no matter how much you enjoy wandering, the more that phrase seems to be cogent.
.
