Following the steps of Giants...
Marmite, Coffee, Modern Art, Maggie Thatcher and seemingly, the Giant's Causeway!? I wasn't expecting the UNESCO World Heritage Site to be such a chalk and cheese landscape... but as we explored this famous area it became apparent that first impressions were quite divisive!
"Wow! Look at that!" said excitedly from one family, "is that it?" spoken with an air of disappointment from another.
Nothing in this world is liked universally, I've even met people who don't like the Beatles! Does the Causeway's fame set a precedent too high to meet some people's expectations? Is it possible that some don't see the excitement in the uniqueness of these rare rock formations? Or maybe the crowds of people clambering over every vacant space of the causeway turns some people off?
I found watching the large groups of people exploring this place almost as fascinating as the actual Causeway! Don't be mistaken, for me, the landscape is fascinating and a rather original place to visit.
The new visitor centre is quite spectacular in itself. If going round the centre fails to get you excited about this place nothing will. The architecture, design and exhibits all come together to create a truly remarkable and exciting visitor centre. Having spent some time hogging all the interactive exhibits, we made our way to The Giant's Causeway.
We decided to take the cliff top walk first and take a breather from the herds of people! The walk is stunning and the further you go the quieter it gets; each bay / cove revealing further varieties of rock formations which nesting seabirds take full advantage of. From the clifftops you get glimpses of the old coastal path that in the not too distant past people would have walked along. You also see the epic landslips that have engulfed large sections of it, which is obviously the reason for the path's closure. It's a shame because it looks like it was a quite spectacular walk!
After a while, we turned back, took a deep breath and descended into the tourist pit! You could spend as much time watching people interact with this space as you could spend looking around it, it's like a giant playground for all ages! Having lingered for what seemed an acceptable time, we made our unnecessary excuses to each other and headed off in search of somewhere a bit quieter.
We did however revisit the Giant's Causeway in the early evening where there were considerably less people and the light really brought the Causeway to life! For me, this was and is the best way to see it!
To conclude, this IS one of those 'must see' areas, you just have to be prepared to share it with a fair few other people!
BBQ Season...
This week has started to show promise that the snow may have finally retreated and some warmer weather might just be around the corner! Such times, (much like the sprouting of bluebells and the arrival of swallows,) are typically marked by overzealous Fathers reaching for a pair of shorts and optimistic shops filling their shelves with BBQ kits.
The excitement got to us too though and we headed up to Chevin Forest Park, Otley for a beautiful evening walk. The light was gorgeous and the woodland bursting with bird song. We caught sight of two courting nuthatches which was a particular highlight; but the sunset really stole the show!
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The Birds...
A large predatory shadow glides over us. A wave of excitement washes over me as we look up to see a sky full of red kites and I struggle to keep a 'cool' demeanor or just break into a childish run, as we head up to the bird hides.
Our weekend in the Brecon Beacons (so far), hadn't quite delivered everything I hoped for. An area of famed outstanding beauty, with legendary walks and mind blowing scenery; all of is pretty irrelevant when blanketed in cloud and visibility is reduced to less than ten metres!
As we approached the Red Kite Feeding Centre it seemed our perseverance over the weekend had been rewarded. It appeared we had found the only patch of blue sky in Wales! In fact, as we had arrived early we had time to test this theory out and believe it or not much more than a mile away from the Kite Centre we found ourselves shrouded in the white fluffy stuff again!
Feeding begins at 2pm daily. We found ourselves a spot in the hide and waited an agonising ten minutes for the spectacle to begin! I don't use the word 'spectacle' lightly, what occurred was mesmerising and mind-blowingly awesome! Hundreds of huge raptors gracefully and effortlessly swooping down just metres in front of us. This was a genuinely unique and thrilling experience, and I left with a feeling not too dissimilar to when I swam with wild dolphins in New Zealand! But you don't have to travel to the otherside of the world for this experience, this is in the UK and very accessible; which is just as well because we have unfinished business the Brecon Beacons!
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Perceptions and Perspective at Holy Island and Beadnell
Some landscapes are unquestionably spiritual, something about them just 'lifts' the soul. But there's no formula for them and like many things in life, they're all very subjective!
As photo briefs come and go, some you remember, some you try to forget and some stay etched in your memory, clear as day. One particular brief which will always stay with me was a portrait for an article on a couple who's son had died of a heroin overdose. They were a lovely couple who turned a potentially tricky job, into a rewarding and encouraging experience. One of the things I picked up on during the photo shoot was how important the time they had spent on Holy Island was and how they had an undoubtedly spiritual connection to that landscape and environment. This is something I found myself reflecting on when I visited Holy Island, also known as Lindisfarne.
I have to admit I didn't find a divine connection to Lindisfarne. I found the landscape intriguing, the history captivating and the bountiful wildlife enchanting. Yet I found myself walking the perimeters almost emotionless, which actually surprised me. Maybe it was the disappointment of a cancelled boat trip to the Farne Islands or a nagging concern about the tides and getting cut off from the mainland. Whatever it was, I was missing something that many before me, profess and evangalise about when visiting Holy Island.
This shouldn't be misinterpreted. Walking around Lindisfarne was awesome and I would recommend it to anyone. I just didn't find it as inspiring as I thought I would. Maybe it was the curse of expectation. This kind of scenario often occurs when I watch films: I have high expectations and am disappointed, low expectations and I thoroughly enjoy it! Maybe there's a lesson in there somewhere?
After successfully evading the incoming that tide that mercilessly cuts Lindisfarne off from the mainland twice a day, we headed to our B&B in Beadnell. As we were shown to our room I felt a twinge of jealousy as I observed a hallway full of photos capturing close up encounters with Puffins on the Farne Islands. Encounters that I seemed destined (at that time), never to experience! Ignoring their taunts, we decided to go out and explore the Beadnell coastline.
The stretch of beach we found seemed fairly standard. Nothing surprising or of outstanding interest. Yet the cluster of rock pools pulled me in to investigate. Before I knew it I had spent over an hour moving from pool to pool, barely looking up, mesmerised by these unique micro universes. On one of the occasions I did look up, I noticed a Kestrel hunting not more than ten metres away! This arguably unremarkable beach had actually become a magical and unforgettable experience. I lingered and explored until the tide forced me to abandon my newly discovered worlds.
I pondered (while tucking into a steak and ale pie in a local pub), on how an underwhelming stretch of coast (at a glance) had upstaged a location revered and celebrated by hundreds of thousands. It's a lesson most are taught from an early age, but maybe one that takes a lifetime to learn; I scolded myself and renewed a promise to try and experience every landscape with reserved judgement and without any preconceptions!
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Moon Walking in the Lakes...
Highlights: Views from above lake Grasmere, historic tracks, coffin stone and handmade gingerbread!
Nature spotted: Heron and a young red squirrel!
As I'm on a roll with writing topical posts, (something I always aim for but rarely achieve!) I thought I would mark this Valentines day with a walk from mine and CB's honeymoon. However, the romance doesn't stop there. This wasn't just any walk, this was a walk from the big cheese of the Romantics himself, this was a William Wordsworth walk!
My consistent references to 'lonely clouds' not only demonstrated my limited exposure to the works of this legendary poet but also highlighted my new wife's (there isn't an old one) exceptional patience when it come to the walking photographer!
It's hard to find a walk in the Lakes that isn't beautiful with gorgeous views and stunning scenery. This walk is no different. Maybe the difference with this walk is the sense of past, following the same rough tracks that others have walked for hundreds of years!
The walk starts and finishes in Grasmere, which made it into my top 5 list of most expensive places to park! The route is just under 6 miles and takes you round the lake (Grasmere), Rydal Water and on into Rydal. Rydal is where you can find Wordsworth's home, Rydal Mount, which offers a good opportunity to take a break and gulp down a cuppa!
The trail then heads back to Grasmere via the 'coffin route'. Before Ambleside had a church, coffins would be walked along this path all the way to St Oslwald's Church in Grasmere. Just before you reach Grasmere, there is a large flat stone known as the 'coffin stone' where pallbearers would rest the coffin and catch there breath before continuing on into the village.
At the end of the coffin route you pass Dove Cottage, which was Wordsworth's family home. Criminally (to some), we opted to remain ignorant in the ways of Wordsworth as we favoured some ginger bread and a pint. We vowed to read more Wordsworth as we tucked into some of Sarah Nelson's gingerbread and supped on our Windermere Pale by Hawkshead brewery!
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There's Snow Time Like Snow Time... Part 2
"As promised" - Is something I typically hear when someone is delivering something that is, in fact, a little later than they had initially promised! I believe that in There's Snow Time Like Snow Time Part 1 I promised to deliver this Snowy Ilkley post later in the week... Timing it with Walking Wednesday or rather #walkwednesday, proves that sometimes 'As Promised' does indeed mean just that!
So, here are some of the photographs I managed to get when out on Ilkley moor by Cow and Calf rocks...
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There's Snow Time Like Snow Time... Prt 1
Well I thought I'd try and get a topical post out for a change as I'm continually playing catchup with the Walking Photographer blog. But in what seems like the blinking of an eye, the majority of the snow has melted and strong winds carrying yet more rain are apparently imminent. Yet again I find myself a step or two lagging!
Anyway here are some photographic offerings from the recent snowfall that transformed Burley Moor, like much of the UK, into a winter wonderland!
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I also took a walk out by Cow and Calf where I took a number of snowy photographs. I will publish these photos later this week. To keep up with the latest Walking Photographer news, photographs and posts be sure to follow on twitter and like the new Facebook page
Birthday Hangovers, Walking in Historic Hackfall
Now, I already know Mrs B (CB and I were Wed in Dec 2012!) is pretty awesome... But back in autumn, for my birthday, she set a new awesomeness record! A surprise weekend in the stunning Yorkshire Dales village of Masham and a tour of the Black Sheep Brewery served as an awesome reminder that I was a very lucky husband to be indeed!
After a brilliant day and night eating and drinking Masham's finest, I was in need of some fresh air and open space. Luckily, the remedy lay just round the corner!
Hackfall is just down the road from Masham, Thorpe road, to be precise, just outside of Grewelthorpe. It's rather gentle walking, which was perfect for someone of my rather 'cloudy' disposition. The woods and surrounding area are a joy to walk through and full of little hidden surprises. This maze of wonders is largely thanks to John Aislabie who bought and landscaped the grounds in the 1700s.
Hackfall has everything, every turn and corner reveals something new and exciting, waterfalls, ruins, viewpoints, and a working fountain that is going on three hundred years old! You can not escape the sense of history in this place. After investigating a rather unusual and old looking tree a passing dog walker stopped and chatted for a minute. "Beautiful tree isn't it..." she said and continued to explain how she had found a 18th century coin embedded in the bark years ago. Tales like this only add to the magic and intrigue of the place. It wasn't just me in my foggy state that was bewitched: many artists including Turner have painted here and writers too, Wordsworth himself reflected on the beauty of the surrounding area. If you don't enjoy walking Hack Fall you might as well lock yourself away and see out the rest of your days playing FIFA and eating Nandos!
After we had almost too casually walked the grounds, taken in the the views and explored the ruins, we headed into Grewelthorpe. At the Crown Inn's beer garden we were greeted by some friendly Morris dancers who were just finishing their liquid rewards. A pint of Marstons' EPA in the sunshine and the metaphorical clouds lifted as we reflected on a delightfully original day's walking!
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The Dark Earth and the Light Sky, (Play about Walking Poet)
Something that regularly frustrates me is the fact I will never have time to get through all the books, articles, web links, plays and films that I've noted down at various times on whatever media has come to hand. Even if I had one comprehensive list stored in one memorable location, the list would always grow a hundred times faster than it would ever decrease.
Take one of my current reads for example: 'The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot', Robert Macfarlane. I'm half way through and there is already an impossible number of authors to look into, poets to read, artists to explore and places to visit!
One of the more significant references in this book is the poet Edward Thomas. I'd just made a note to find out more about him when I heard an interview on the radio with Sir Richard Eyre. He was talking about a play based on Edward Thomas that he (Sir Richard Eyre) was directing . Yet another scribble on another notepad was made, along with a determined promise to actually follow up this scribbled notelet and not to let it simply vanish in the ether like so many others before!
It was the weekend before Christmas, CB and I were back in London to have Christmas at my folks. It was the best opportunity we had, and we decided to catch the matinee performance of The Dark Earth and the Light Sky at the Almeida Theatre in Angel. I admit that a play about Edward Thomas, a poet who loved to walk but suffered from severe depression, had a troubled marriage and died in the trenches of World War One isn't the most 'Christmassy' thing we could've done, but we made up for it with a festive pint of Rosey Nosey (Batemans brewery) in a pub full of Christmas jumper wearers afterwards!
While it isn't the most light-hearted of plays, it's not as heavy as you might expect either. There's plenty of humour and I was totally fascinated and gripped by all the characters and their stories throughout. It's a really strong, emotive and intriguing performance from the small cast and I came away with a new list of authors and poets!
Put simply, it's a 9 out of 10 for me and an absolute must see for anyone into the countryside and walking!
A Walk from a New Home for New Boxers
Nearly a year ago, we were supping our pints and sharing a packet of roast beef Monster Munch in the Red Lion following an awesome Burley in Wharfedale walk. I couldn’t have imagined that by November 2012 we’d actually be making our home there! Well, actually, I probably did imagine that; we tend to envisage ourselves living in every place we walk through. Nevertheless, to find ourselves living in the location of one of our first Yorkshire walks following our move from London is both a little surprising and really cool!
On the second weekend in our new place, CB was away on her Hen weekend and the two weeks of numerous trips to hardware stores, assembling flat pack furniture, moving all our stuff room to room, day by day in accordance with the work being carried out, was starting to take it’s toll! I was desperate to be outdoors!
Despite my overwhelming urge (which I had been repressing for two weeks) to head straight out onto the moor, I had one obstacle. We still had no kitchen or washing machine and as of Monday (this was Sunday) I was going to be out of clean undies.
The obvious solution was to head into Leeds, where there was more chance of finding an open launderette, but my heart sat heavy at the thought of this. So I decided to take the less economical path, walk to Ilkley via Rombald’s moor, buy some new boxers and visit the launderette on Monday! Decision made, soul appeased, I headed out at a quickened pace up the road and towards the moor.
It was Remembrance Sunday and I had the idea that I would observe the customary 2 minutes silence from one of the peaks on the moor that overlook Burley in Wharfedale. This rather sentimental notion failed to materialise as I hadn’t realised that the walk leading to the moor (despite nearly jogging in excitement), was in fact longer than I had remembered. I compromised for two minutes of quiet thoughtfulness, on foot. Thinking of Grandparents and other inspirational people I’ve met and then into wider pools of thought, of people far and near who still experience extreme violence on a daily basis, which turns to prayer, that I will never become desensitized or neglectful to such thoughts and that I will have courage and wisdom to act on them when needed.
I wasn’t too disappointed at not reaching a viewpoint for the customary show of silence, I contemplate best on foot with a camera in my hand. I documented my two minutes of silence, automatically shooting from the hip; no composing, no construction, just a continuous finger on the shutter as I walked in thought.
11:00 - 11:02 11/11/2012, Rich Bunce
I continued to walk the moor, aimlessly meandering towards Ilkley, generally moving and turning away from any sign of human activity. Embracing the solitude with the moor and selfishly attempting to keep the moments for myself. As I approached Ilkley the paths and tracks got busier and I conceded it was time to head into town and purchase those boxers!
At this point I had thought I might grab a pint, a sandwich and 45 minutes of Premier League football but the light was glorious and the air so fresh that I decided to press on. I walked on towards the River Wharfe.
It's hard describe the walk along the River Wharfe to Burley in Wharfedale. It's not the sort of walk you jump out of bed for, but there were certainly moments of interest that made it worthwhile. The walk is a little broken in places meaning there are stretches of walking along the A65. One particular point of interest was the Ben Rhydding Gravel Pits Nature Reserve which, despite the continuous noise of cars, is paradoxically peaceful and worth exploring.
After the Nature Reserve I crossed the A65 and made my way back to Burley in Wharfedale via several country tracks, crisscrossing the various areas marked "Private Land". As I did this I stumbled upon a beautiful Red Kite and true to form, before I could lift my camera, it had flown over some trees. Though unrecorded, it was a great moment that I enjoyed reflecting on as I supped on a pint of Landlord (Timothy Taylor Brewery) in The Red Lion, almost a year after my previous pint there!
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