Namibia/Botswana/Zambia 3

Tags

black rhino, black-backed jackal, blacksmith lapwing, elephant, Etosha National Park, Etosha Pan, glossy starling, Halali camp, Hyena, Impala, kudu, laughing dove, Lion, marabou stork, Namibia, red hartebeest, rhino, Rock kestrel, Scops owl, secretary bird, Spotted hyena, Springbok, Striped mongoose, whydah, zebra

Monday, morning, 25th February. Here is a map of Etosha National Park. “>http://a href=”https://www.etoshanationalpark.org”><img src=”https://www.etoshanationalpark.org/media/Etosha-Map2.jpg” alt=”Etosha National Park Map” title=”Etosha National Park Map”/></a>

It’s huge. Etosha Pan itself is 75 miles/120 kilometres long. This is a dried up lake, the salt from which affects the land to its south. We had entered the NP by Anderson Gate, in the middle of the Park, and Halali Camp is a little over a third of the way along the Pan to the northwest of the Gate. The map shows the many waterholes.

After a very early breakfast, we went out for a ‘game’ drive. It was not quite as light as my camera made out to begin with.

Black-backed jackal

Our first lion, a female with a nasty but healing wound. She seems to have the remains of a kill.

Springbok and Striped Mongooses

Secretary bird, the last we were to see

Our first elephant, much further off than it appears from this maximum zoom photo

The Pan in the middle ground

Rock kestrel (?)

And then we heard a lion was on its way. Our leaders positioned the vehicles near the pool it was thought to be heading for.

What a handsome beast!

He roared for his females. It was loud! Nothing like the gentle huffing in the following video taken from a new spot we had moved to

He stopped, examined us …

… and then moved off. We did not see his females.

We continued on our way, and I’m starting to recognise a blacksmith lapwing.

What’s that venturing its head out of a (dried up of course) culvert?…

… A spotted hyena

Another black rhino – or rather two!

When we got back to Halali Camp, it was still relatively early, and we had a couple of hours off. The Camp had no free wifi, but our vehicles did, and I spent some time in one of them (as it was being driven to get fuel and then parked somewhere in the camp) catching up with vital home political news. (For those interested in such things, I learned that THAT vote, due already for the nth time on 27th February, was being put off again for two weeks.)

Before lunch, the group walked five minutes to the waterhole a few had visited the previous evening. En route we saw in the camp grounds, among other things, …

a Cape glossy starling (we were to see many varieties of beautiful starling in the two weeks),

and an African Scops owl, trying to sleep, a bit fed up with the attention. To quote from my bird book, ‘ … its cryptic colouring makes detection difficult. This camouflage is further enhanced by its habit of depressing its fathers to appear long and thin, raising its ear tufts and half-closing its eyes, creating the illusion of a tree stump.’

Once at the waterhole, where we were comfortably seated, we saw plenty of life.

Kudu and Marabou stork

Red-billed teal

Kudu

Laughing dove and whydahs (?)

I think this is the male of a species of Paradise whydah in transition to breeding plumage, but I’m not sure

Impalas practising. Elephant dung gets everywhere.

Marabou stork

Long-tailed Paradise-Whydahs, male and female

The pool was not empty for long

Red hartebeest

And this I how the pool was when we left for our lunch.

It had been quite a morning!

Namibia/Botswana/Zambia 2

Tags

African Paradise Flycatcher, black-backed jackal, Blue crane, Crowned lapwing, Etosha National Park, flap-necked chamaeleon, giraffe, Gnu, Halali camp, Namibia, Pied crow, red hartebeest, red-crested korhaan, rhino, scrub hare, secretary bird, Sociable Weaver, Spotted thick-knee, Springbok, Wildebeest

Sunday 24th February, afternoon. This trip was timed to be the end of the ‘green season’, i.e. after the rains. Everything should have been lush, in fact making ground-living creatures more difficult to see, thus the particular interest of birders in this trip. But as were told right at the outset, the region had now suffered from seven years of drought, and areas that should have been marshy, and even flooded, were not. This was not only having an adverse effect on wildlife, but farmers were losing cattle, and entering into penury. For us however, shrinking waterholes were ideal for observing wildlife, not just birds. So after leaving our lunch spot…

… we visited a couple of waterholes, though many of the following pictures were taken from the roadside on the way to our first lodge within Etosha National Park.

African Paradise flycatcher, a small bird with (in the male) a very long tail.

Red-crested Korhaan (id. PM and BL)

Sociable Weaver nest. It’s huge, being the nest, as its name suggests, of many birds.

Pied crow

Common Wildebeest, aka Brindled Gnu

Blue cranes, in front of Springbok

Secretary bird, about the size of a (skinny) turkey – with long legs in breeches

Crowned lapwing

I was thrilled and surprised to see a black rhino (its name has nothing to do with its colour), given that I had only ever seen one before, and that at a great distance.

Spotted thick-knee, right by the side of the road, hoping its camouflage would protect it

Red (Leiwei) hartebeest

Secretary bird

Neil spotted this at the side of the road as we were driving along, and backed up for us to have a closer look. Another creature hoping its camouflage will protect it – a Scrub hare. It didn’t move for the five minutes we were beside it. Reminds me so much of Dürer’s 1502 painting.

A troop of Springbok crossed the road in front of us.

This Flap-neck Chamaeleon is green in the pictures you see in internet searches. But here it is crossing the road, so… It had a strange rocking movement, designed to put predators off. We were worried that it might be crushed on the road, but since vehicles were few and far between, this was unlikely.

Springbok almost as far as the eye can see.

Black-backed jackal

Our first giraffe, the Southern sub-species

After a long and tiring couple of days, we were very pleased to reached the Halali Restcamp, dine, and go to bed. Except that a few of them didn’t immediately, but walked to the nearby waterhole and saw lots of elephants. And apparently missed a leopard drinking there an hour later.

Namibia/Botswana/Zambia 1

Tags

African monarch, black-winged stilt, blacksmith lapwing, dikdik, Egyptian goose, Grey go-away-bird, little grebe, Namibia, Naturetrek, Pale chanting goshawk, purple roller, Safariwise, Verreaux's eagle, violet wood hoopoe, Waterberg Plateau, wood sandpiper

Saturday night and Sunday morning. (23rd/24th February 2019). We’ll gloss over the sheer panic I had felt for two hours on the Friday afternoon when a trespasser on the railway at my local railway station made me miss my long-haul flight to Johannesburg, South Africa, and I saw my two-week safari in three countries melting away before my eyes. I’ll just thank Naturetrek for speedily booking me onto a flight 3 hours later, and for having arranged the timing of the whole journey such that I was still able to take the intended onward flight to Windhoek, Namibia, (formerly South West Africa) at the same time as my prospective 14 companions.

At Windhoek, we were met by Neil, the proprietor of Safariwise, and the other leader/guide, Jakes, both Afrikaans-origin Namibian nationals. They drove us in two vehicles to the Waterberg Plateau, halfway to Etosha, where we would spend the night. From my leaving home to arrival at our lodge there, it had been some 27 hours.

The scenery changed during the four hours

Approaching the Waterberg Plateau. Termite mounds were everywhere throughout the trip.

Pale Chanting Goshawk, a bird we were to see many times in the two weeks. Even I came to recognise it.

Here is a map to explain our itinerary.

From Waterberg we were to go onward to central Etosha for two nights, eastern Etosha for another two, and onward to the north-east border of Namibia to stay for one night in a lodge in Kavangoland, on the Okavango River, with Angola on the other bank. We would then move for three nights to a lodge at the western point of the Caprivi Strip. From there we would make a day visit into Botswana (formerly Bechuanaland), after which we would move on further east within the Caprivi strip for a night in a lodge on the banks of the Zambezi River, and then spend two nights in Botswana itself in Chobe National Park. Our last two nights would be spent just over the border in Zambia (formerly Northern Rhodesia) and we would fly back home, via Johannesburg, from Livingstone, near Victoria Falls.

The following, Sunday, morning, we started as we went on most days – getting up very, very early, with a pre-breakfast walk. This makes sense because it is around dawn and dusk that wildlife is most active. Like us, the creatures do not like to move around in the middle of a hot day. (Daytime maxima during the fortnight varied from 33°C to 38°C, night-time minima from 18° to 22°.) We followed a track near to our accommodation, which was considerably higher than the surrounding plain, but still with the plateau looming over us.

Verreaux’s eagle

The sun was not yet up.

But arrived during our walk

Purple roller

A word on captions. I only started systematically noting the names of the birds I photographed about halfway through the trip, so certainty about the names is not always guaranteed, depending both on whether I was able to check them out after the event, and also on whether I noted them correctly (the latter going for the second half of the trip also). Anyone with better information than I is very welcome to make corrective notes in the comments!

Grey Go-away-bird. These were common, its name deriving from its call.

Violet wood Hoopoes

I found their movements quite amusing (3 secs)

These sweet little Damara dikdik were all around the rooms – this one was feet away from mine after breakfast – and were quite unafraid of humans.

Fork-tailed drongo eating African monarch butterfly, which we saw it catch while we were waiting to leave

After breakfast we set off for our next destination, Etosha National Park. This is one of the two vehicles we travelled in. Everyone had a window seat, most also having the chance for a better view if they stood when the roof was up.

As we travelled our guides kept their eyes skinned for anything of wildlife interest and stopped for us to look and take photos as appropriate. The rule seemed to be that the longer we were taking to get anywhere, risking our next meal, the more significant the creature had to be for us to stop! I was just amazed at what Neil and Jakes noticed and immediately identified as they drove along.

Even before we left the lodge’s grounds we stopped to look at colourful butterflies, and more particularly a Rüppell’s parrot of which I did not get a good photo

The African monarch butterfly, quite unlike the one seen in N America and Madeira

Monarch butterflies on a plant which is highly poisonous to other creatures, including us, which make the butterfly in turn toxic

We diverted to a sewage works – not for the last time in the fortnight! I was the only traveller not principally and passionately interested in (and knowledgeable about) birds, my interest in wildlife, and the countries visited, being more general. And I was to learn that sewage works are fantastic for birdwatching, as they are made up of a series of ponds which attract waders and other birds.

Wood sandpiper

Egyptian geese, little grebes and (BL) garganeys and black-winged stilts

Blacksmith lapwings and … ?

The beautifully elegant black-winged stilt

Neil and Jakes also removed some illegal traps set to catch birds at the sewage works.

We had lunch at a safari lodge en route. We did not starve in the 14 days!

A London miscellany

Tags

ATP finals, Cenotaph, Fashioned from Nature, Lorenzo Lotto, NAtional Gallery, Nervous States, Regent's Park, SS Mendi, The Guardian, Willaim Davies

After visiting the Fashioned from Nature exhibition, I made my way to Westminster and walked up Whitehall, stopping at the Cenotaph which had been the scene just four days previously of the remembrance service, 100 years to the day after the ending of the First World War.

My father served in the RAF during WW2

I was particularly moved by the text of this African wreath: 

“Be quiet and calm, my countrymen, for what is taking place is exactly what you came to do. You are going to die….. but that is what you came to do…. Brothers, we are drilling the death drill. I, a Xhosa, say you are my brothers.  Swazis, Pondos, Basutos, we die like brothers. We are the sons of Africa. Raise your war cries, brothers, for though they made us leave our assegais in the kraal, our voices are left with or bodies.” Reverend Isaac Wauchope Dyobha – Address to the doomed men of the SANLO, aboard the SS Mendi, sunk on its way to France 21 February 2017.  

In fact she sunk in thick fog, struck by a Royal Mail ship.

Continuing up Whitehall, I was pleased to see that this gathering of Brexit supporters standing opposite the Cabinet Office, where (yet another) crucial Cabinet meeting was about to takes place, was nothing like as numerous as 700,000.

I was aiming for Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery 

where I met Mary for lunch.  Afterwards we went to the Lorenzo Lotto (c1480 – 1556) – no, I hadn’t heard of him – portraits exhibition there.  

I had been pleased that the Fashioned from Nature exhibition had not restricted photography, (it was my failure to ensure there was a memory card in my camera that had) but was reprimanded after I had taken a few at this one, so I shall content myself with sharing just these pictures I took during an introductory video.

This really gave me a desire to visit the north Italian countryside…

In the evening I went to a very interesting talk at the offices of The Guardian, where one of the newspaper’s editors interviewed William Davies, Reader in Political Economy at Goldsmith’s College, University of London. He had just published a book, Nervous States – how feeling took over the world. 

William Davies is on the right

His explanations around the rise of populism and fake news in politics were extremely interesting. 

The next two days were spent at the O2 watching the tennis, so I was not looking for too much activity in the hours remaining on Saturday.  Mary and I went for a gentle walk in Regent’s Park.

Then we joined four of her tennis club friends for a coffee in the club’s café in the Park.

My London visit was completed by watching, with Mary, the first of the ATP tennis semi-finals on television.  Then it was time for me to make my way to Hammersmith for my long-distance bus home.  Somehow I managed to stay awake all the way, catching up on downloaded radio programmes through headphones. That had been quite some four days!

Marseille 1

Tags

Calanques, Chateau d'If, Eurostar, Gare de Lyon, Gare du Nord, karst, Le Figaro, limestone, Marseille, Mas, Notre Dame de la Garde, Notre Dame du Mont, Paris, People's Vote, Port-Miou, quarries, St Pancras, Un Mas en Ville

After the excitement of the London March for a People’s Vote the day before, on Sunday 21st October I met up with my cousin Teresa, and her teenage son Harvey, at St Pancras station to take Eurostar to Paris, and from there to travel onwards by train to Marseille, for just three nights. With the exception of problems at the Gare du Nord, (trying to buy metro tickets for the Gare de Lyon from a machine that was only taking coins, and then forcing those tickets through the unco-operative ticket barriers), the journey went entirely to plan, and we emerged on the classic (I’d say ‘iconic’ but the word is so over-used) very long flight of steps at Marseille St-Charles station late afternoon. We decided to walk the kilometre plus to our lodgings, which, in addition to the steps, proved to include lots of ups and downs. With more luggage than the other two, I resolved there and then that I would return by the metro on Wednesday morning!

We knew in advance that our chambre d’hôtes, Un Mas en Ville,  was not in the chic-est part of the city, but it was very near the heart of it.  It was an amazing old building, entirely renovated about ten years ago in the style of a Provencal mas, or farm.  Having settled in our rooms, single ones aligned with each other on the first to third floors, each with its own teensy private bathroom on the landing, we went out to find a meal, and chose the first open restaurant we could find having headed towards the centre of the city. This turned out to be a popular Chinese one, where we enjoyed a good meal. Or rather Teresa and I did, as Harvey was feeling under the weather, and not up to eating much, a state in which he sadly remained, though improving, for the rest of our short stay.

Breakfast the next day was taken in a room semi-open to the small but perfectly formed swimming pool, an addition to the original building.  What fun the designers must have had in creating this, and converting the original building! All the transformational work had been done by local stone masons, though the stone they used came from Normandy, as we learnt in due course. (As the water in the pool was unheated, there was absolutely no question of my trying it, neither did the others.)

We set off on foot for the Vieux Port, via the tourist information office, and over a coffee made plans for the day.

The church of Notre Dame du Mont, which gives its name to the quartier where we lodged

The Prefecture

It being Monday, we could not, as we had hoped, go by boat to the Château d’If, so we booked instead to do the three-hour trip with the same company along the coastline of the Calanques national park. Before this we had time to follow one of the tourist office’s suggested walks.

Hotel de Ville/City Hall

Taken from the Fort Saint-Jean

This lace-clad building was so new that it appeared on neither of the maps we were using.

From it, the Cathedral, and two very modern buildings, each of which was completed within the last few months.  (They featured in this article in the French national newspaper, Le Figaro, two days after our return!)  The right-hand one changes colour depending on whether it is in sunlight or not.

Having crossed the footbridge to the top of the building, we found a café on the next floor down, but didn’t stop.

We continued on down via slopes and steps.  The building appeared to house and be about to house offices and meeting rooms.

With time running out before the boat was due to leave, we didn’t hang around as we returned, past the Cathedral front and the Hotel de Ville to the port, but I did notice this on the side of one of the old buildings near it.  Subject to correction, I think it means that all citizens of a given commune are collectively liable for damage done to people and property of that commune.

The serendipitous discovery of an organic sandwich bar near the port provided our lunch, which we started eating as the boat set off. It was a very enjoyable trip in very pleasant weather.

Ours was the green circuit (no stops).

The lacy building and the Fort Saint-Jean

Close-up of the Château d’If

The basilica of Notre-Dame de la Garde, which we had first seen from the steps of the station, dominates the city.

The limestone is very fossiliferous, as we had seen on paving stones and other buildings in the old town.

This is a close-up, but…

… this is not, and the size of the people gives an idea of the scale of these cliffs.

There were a few little villages along the coastline.  In WWII, according to the commentary, these hills provided hiding places for the resistance.

I snuck this photo of Teresa

and she got her revenge

For geologists – evidence of karst formation, I believe

Just turn left…

…for turn round point – Port-Miou

The old quarries, which provided stone for most of the monumental buildings in Marseille

In the evening, Harvey, again not feeling like a proper meal, stayed behind at our lodgings, snacking on provisions we had bought at a health food store near the tourist office. Teresa and I this time turned in the opposite direction from that we had chosen the night before to find something to eat.  We ended up in a Japanese restaurant in the Place Notre Dame du Mont, which had particularly advertised its vegan dishes.  Having ordered the soup and a main dish, when the soup arrived we saw that it was a meal in itself, and were able to cancel the rest of the order.  The huge bowl of soup was delicious and filling!

 

 

Killerton

Tags

Acland, Broadclyst, Ellen Terry, Exeter, Henry Singleton, House of Commons, Killerton, M, National Portrait Gallery, National Trust, New Zealand, Octavia Hill, Saudi Arabia, Suffragettes, Suffragists, Women's Marseillaise

Killerton, Broadclyst, Devon.   With nothing in my diary for the day, and having noted long ago that I wanted to catch an exhibition there before it closed, I took myself on Friday to this National Trust property a few miles north-east of Exeter.  It is one of the county’s largest estates.  The house was originally intended to be temporary, but the grandiose mansion planned was never built. The late 1780s Georgian property was extended twice, early in the nineteenth century and again a hundred years or so later.  I came across this description of the estate at one point.

It was donated to the National Trust in 1944.  After the obligatory coffee on arrival, I left the elegant Georgian stable block, which now houses café, shop and plant sales, and took a backward glance at it.

At the end of the drive lay the house itself, presently housing three exhibitions relating to the long campaigns for votes for women. A stark reminder of how the campaign could divide members of the same family, aunt and niece in this case, each living on the estate, greeted visitors. The first exhibition was a collaboration between the NT and the National Portrait Gallery, London.

Octavia Hill.  Octavia Hill! Against! Social reformer! She who had so much to do with the founding of the National Trust!

Ellen Terry – pro women’s suffrage

I had not previously realised just how strongly some women felt that they should not get the vote, and I felt uneasy all the time I was in this small exhibition, very conscious how another political debate today, on which I feel so strongly, is dividing households and friends. (My cats are totally apathetic on the matter, so my household is tranquil.)

The other two exhibitions, fashion related to the suffragette/suffragist movement, and more about the two Acland women, left me less emotionally troubled. I could not have been a suffragette, but am equally sure that I would have been out there marching with the non-violent suffragist movement.

The music room

I was very tempted to sing this out loud, but I didn’t quite dare.  I’m pretty sure though that onlookers and volunteers would have been delighted!

A set of playing cards laid out on the console table, with pro and anti themes

A House of Commons with not a woman in sight …

The drawing room

The Pastor’s Fireside, by Henry Singleton, the 19th Baronet Acland reading to his family

The library, somewhat spoiled in my view by all the panels of quotations

The dining room

The movement had a long history

None looked like achieving anything, until the World War I when women proved their worth in ‘men’s’ jobs. I actually got a little angry inside as I looked at the changing pictures , some of which are in the slideshow below, showing just what work they had done.

 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Why did they have to do ‘men’s’ jobs to prove they were sufficiently responsible to vote?

This map showed that New Zealand was the first country to give women the vote (1893), and Saudi Arabia (2015) has been the latest

A delightful respite in one of the bedrooms from all that politics

On emerging from the house, I went looking for a snack in the Dairy Café. But it was closed, so I went back to the entrance café, not wishing to take a meal in the main restaurant in the house. After having my soup, I went off in search of the old 1950s Post Office, but reading the notice saved me the tramp over there, though the path looked enticing.

I’m glad the fence was strong!

This was Friday

So I went back to the house and started exploring the gardens, which, as this slideshow proves, still had plenty of colour, this early October day.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

From there I went further into the grounds.  I came across a granite cross, which I have since learned was erected in 1873 in memory of the 10th Baronet who did so much to develop the estate, by 40 of his friends. But for me the main interest was that it was swarming with harlequin (i.e.  non-native) ladybirds, scurrying about, never still and occasionally flying off and returning. 

Harlequins come in many colours

Were they enjoying the warmth that the granite had absorbed during the morning?  Were they preparing to swarm together to find a place to hibernate?  My researches have not got me very far… But some of them came far with me.  It was a good fifteen minutes and several hundred metres away before the last one emerged from my hair.

I was keen to leave Killerton in time to avoid Friday evening traffic, but still had time for a gentle stroll in a small part of the parkland, where I met scarcely a soul. 

A glimpse of the Victorian chapel

Lovely spot for a romantic picnic

Autumn rolls on

This post has been very long, but here is a slideshow for any reader with stamina for 12 more pictures with details.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The Mid-Somerset Show, 2018

Tags

dog show, dry stone walling, Mid-Somerset Show, Somerset Rural Life Museum, wicker

It would not normally have occurred to me to visit the Mid-Somerset Show, but as a volunteer at the Somerset Rural Life Museum, I had been invited to help on their stand for a couple of hours.  So I arrived some 50 minutes early to take ‘a quick mooch around’ beforehand.  Ha! Quick? – it was vast!

As I arrived, there seemed to be an awful lot of dogs around.  I soon understood why.I moved on after a few minutes. The Somerset willow/wicker industry is still thriving, (and indeed we display a wicker coffin in the museum).  There was dry stone walling, and timbercraft. I particularly liked the bench which could be moved around like a wheelbarrow. (A wheelbench? Or a benchbarrow?)

I had seen that there was to be a cider pressing at 10.30, so I made my way to the marquee where it was to take place.  I saw no pressing, perhaps because judging was still taking place, but was delighted to discover the Rural Life Museum’s stall nearby, as I could now stop worrying that I would never find it.

There were things to entertain children, and  dozens, if not hundreds, of stalls selling things to consume, to wear, and to play with, and offering services, commercial, voluntary and public, (no photos of any of these).  There were horses, and ponies, sheep, young (and older) shepherds dispensing advice, sheep judgings, sheep products, small goats (and large), alpacas, pigs, and a judge getting down to things.  Cattle big and small,

This animal was so huge, I thought it to be a bull, but another photo has shown me that it is a cow

I had wandered about the huge showground so much that I was a little concerned that I’d never find the cider and Somerset heritage marquee again. I was just about on time. One of the children’s activities we offered was stick weaving, which I had never heard of. Custom was slow to begin with, but it picked up, and it was useful that there were two of us to chat with both children and grown-ups.  A few had visited the Museum before it  closed in 2014 for refurbishment, and some had already visited after it had reopened last year.  Some children had already visited in the last few months with their schools, and were keen, and primary school teachers took an interest, as did grandparents.

I had intended to leave the showground when my two-hour stint was up, but I was conscious that there was a lot more to see, and also I hoped to find a leather belt to buy from a craft stall (which I did in due course).  As I emerged from the heritage tent it was very sunny and warm – not forecast – and teeming with people.  I saw more horses, bees and bee products, bantams,

It’s true there was something of a breeze, but I suspect this beastie had its feathers permanently ruffled.

golden goose eggs (?) and other kinds, and Egg Sheeran.  Just when I thought there couldn’t be any more kinds of animals (and was pleased not to have seen cats in cages) I came across a few rabbits. Human exhibits changed every hour. This is the Barnacle Buoys, who often sing in support of the RNLI. (Apologies for the words clipped at the beginning and end.  The latter is ‘ago’, and is sung one tone up followed by one tone down – for those concerned.)

The essence of a country show is its produce and homecraft competitions.

Upcycled denim competition

Fewer people made it to the far end of the marquee

More child’s play. Well away from the main dog classes was a ring where some kind of obedience test was happening.  I didn’t stay long enough to understand what it was all about, but this apparently obedient dog is here being persuaded by the ring master – in vain and for the third time – to retrieve a ball and take it back to its owner.  

Its owner is in the blue shorts

Beginning to get hungry, and not keen on any of the fast food on offer, I made my way back to the car park at 2 pm.

The dog classes were continuing.

Some dogs were more co-operative …

… than others.

All had been amazingly well-behaved.

I was so pleased that the SRLM had appealed to its volunteers for help, and intend to go again another year.

12th time lucky!

Tags

Adventure Balloons, Balloon flight, Berkshire College of Agriculture, Burchetts Green, Henley, River Thames, Sonning Common

12th time lucky! Two years ago, Barbara was given a voucher for a balloon flight for her birthday. She suggested that her daughter, that is my cousin Teresa, and I join her, and as I had been longing to go up in a balloon all my adult life, I was thrilled to agree, as was Teresa. So for two years we have been making reservations on flights, and 11 times these flights have been cancelled, either for bad weather conditions, or, once, because they had not enough passengers booked for the flight.

This morning, at last, it happened!  It was perfect weather.  Arriving at 5.30 at a field belonging to the Berkshire College of Agriculture, in Burchetts Green, the sun was rising over the horizon, and there was a little mist around which burnt off over the next couple of hours.  After a short briefing with us all actually in the balloon basket, we all clambered out and watched the balloon being inflated. This didn’t take long and we all climbed in again. 

To begin with, just hot (I presume) air is blown into the balloon. (Later edit: I now understand that the balloon is filled with cold air to begin with.)

Then the burner comes into action

Take-off was imperceptible and we were up and away before we knew it.

“It’s actually happening!”

Before long we were at our maximum height of 900 feet plus.  It didn’t feel like it – though how would I know?

We saw animals.

Mostly I didn’t use zoom on my camera, to retain the impression of height, but this is an exception. I loved the early morning shadows of both animals and trees.

 

At last some wild animals – running deer, tiny specks here.

We saw expensive properties (this was the Henley area).

I really was not leaning out of the basket to take this.

Presumably a dressage arena

 

 

We saw fields with patterns.

We three were facing the sun.  I think we got the best of the deal.

 

 

 

Why was this field so exquisitely green, when all around had been affected so badly by the lengthy drought?

Perhaps this aircraft is the clue.

 

A golf course

The greenkeeper?

And of course we saw views. 

 

The Thames with Henley in the distance

 

 

After some 50 minutes it was time to start descending.

I didn’t turn round to look at the views behind me much, for obvious reasons.

 

 

 

We have landed, in a field at Sonning Common.

The ‘plughole’ at the top is opened to let out some air

Once the balloon had deflated sufficiently we were allowed to get out.

83-year-old yoga-loving Barbara didn’t really need help,

but she seemed delighted to accept it.

Teresa and I used the same method as each other.

We were invited/encouraged/cajoled to help push all the remaining air out of the balloon, then to roll it up and put it back in the basket. 

Barbara helped squeeze the air out…

… by rolling in the hay with her young man.

The balloon was tied into sections

All helped lift it towards and then into the basket

It was some time before a minibus arrived to pick us up. The interval was very pleasantly spent sipping champagne and chatting with fellow passengers. It had been worth the two-year wait!  Thanks Geoff for kicking off the whole adventure!  And Adventure Balloons, we’re sorry for all the evil things we said about you every time you cancelled – we really do understand that you couldn’t take the risk.  And you served up perfect weather today.

 

Madeira Revisited 7

Tags

Cabo Girao, Echium candicans, Fnchal, levada, Madeira, Madeiran chaffinch, Pride of Madeira, Rabacal, Residencial Pina, Risco

Madeira Revisited 7. Last full day. By the way, my memory was playing me up.  It wasn’t on Day 5 but today that we went to Cabo Girâo, at 580metres/1900 feet the highest cliff in ‘Europe’. Here’s the view eastwards, towards Funchal, from the glass platform.  From there, we continued along the coast to the west, and then turned inland to another upland, very different from what we had seen, a plateau heathland, once more above the clouds.  They were building a huge reservoir where we made a brief stop (in the middle of the left-hand brown area on the map), but we were there to see more of this magnificent native plant, called Pride of Madeira, echium candicans.  I’d liked it so much the first time I saw it, on the first day, that I’d bought a t-shirt.  The flowerheads really are this big. The label says it was made in Madeira.

Next we descended in our minibuses to a place called Rabaçal, (on the left-hand edge of the brown bit on the map), within the clouds. Indeed it was difficult to tell whether we were in mist or whether it was actually raining.  Fortunately, the longest part of our subsequent walk was downwards on a long, quite narrow, very quiet, wind-y road, and out of the clouds.

Good to see this natural stream, after all those levadas

We were all spread out, and, uncertain as to whether we should continue on the road or take this steep path, Christine, Richard, David and I stood here for a long while nattering. It turned out we could have taken either.

When the tarmac came to an end, we continued on a further steep path downwards, but this fortunately became a flat levada walk shortly afterwards.

Madeiran chaffinches were everywhere, and very friendly. I have resisted posting photos of them every day.  This one, like many, had a deformity on its feet.

At the end – a place called Risco – there was a long, but narrow, waterfall, to which I found it difficult to do justice in photos. 

 

 

 

The walk was a there and back one again.

There was no doubt a fantastic view behind the cloud…

It was with great pleasure that most of us, when we got back to the tarmac road, took a little bus provided by the local authority (at 3 euros each) to get back to our own minibuses.  All this took much longer than anticipated, and it was rather late when we had our lunch in what was no doubt a beautiful spot on the heath, picnic tables and all, but sadly we were once more in the chill and damp of cloudland.

 

Our final stop of the day was in what was formally designated ‘cloud forest’ (warmer here because more sheltered), where we were able to see how plants just absorbed water from the atmosphere, and indeed were growing on each other.  Back at the hotel, it was time to pack, then go down one last time to a restaurant near the seafront, and climb back again.

The following morning, it was time to say good bye to the hotel (the Residencial Pina) and its friendly staff.

My room right in the middle, over the breakfast room. That’s a dragon tree.

That had come into harbour overnight

We gather at the main building/bar awaiting our lifts to the airport

When I visited Madeira in November 2016 on a regular tourist holiday, which I did much enjoy, I had sensed that there must be wilder areas, where it was possible to look around without the view being interrupted by rooves and cables.  This holiday proved to me that this was true, and showed me just how beautiful deeper Madeira is.  There are still some things I would like to explore there…

 

Madeira Revisited 5

Tags

Cabo Girao, Châo da Ribeira, Encumeada, Fireworks, Funchal, Indian red admiral, laurel forest, laurisilva, levada, Madeira, Madeiran saxifrage, roseate tern, Sao Vicente, speckled wood

Madeira Revisited 5. I don’t know what the weather was like on the southern coast of the island on the Saturday, but for some of our varied experiences elsewhere on the Saturday it was cold and/or damp, though things did get better from time to time. There were several elements to this long day.  We were first taken to Cabo Girâo, the highest sea cliff in ‘Europe’. (Being Portuguese, Madeira counts as Europe, though geologically it is part of the African plate.) I had been here before, and ‘thrilled’ once more to standing on a glass platform with nothing below that.

Photo taken on previous visit

Then we moved on to Encumeada in the middle of the island (1007 metres/3303 feet), where the chill was really felt, especially as some of us had decided that we did not need to carry or wear as much weather protection as previously.  We had been warned, so had only ourselves to blame!  Anyway, we had a mile-long walk along a levada, the borders of which were not entirely by natural vegetation but included some attractive planting.  At the end of our walk was a tunnel, through which the levada continued, and along which we had been intended to walk, but I was glad that that thought had been abandoned – it would have meant uncomfortable bending over for 800 metres.  I did venture a very little way into it, and if this photo is viewed on a big enough screen, the light at the end of the tunnel can just be seen.

(Photo artificially over-exposed. It was really much darker than this.)

 

For some reason this cockerel was hanging around.

Back the mile to our minibuses, and we moved on to Sâo Vicente on the north coast.  My memory of this place in November 2016 was of a meal taken in a revolving restaurant.  This time our stop was for coffee, and then for a very short exploration of the local geology.  I nipped off at one point to buy some cherries from a stall, and when I rejoined the group they were all staring at the beach.  I could see a tern or to. And I liked these contrasting grey textures.  Only on looking more closely did I see that some of the stones were in fact terns, roseate terns I was informed. From here we were taken just a very short distance westwards, and deposited to walk along the old coastal road (closed to traffic) for about a mile.

I really would not have cared to have driven along that old road!

I really enjoyed this walk.  It was easy walking (as had the levada been), the sun was now out, and the plants growing on the vertical cliff wall were spectacular.  Two of us were ahead of the others, so we were the first to venture in to this tunnel, which we could see was dripping wet for the first and last several metres.  It was fun, once emerged from it, to see the others noticing the ‘hazard’ and then venturing in. 

Indian/Macaronesian Red Admiral

Speckled wood

From here we were taken via Seixal to Châo da Ribeira, where there were picnic benches. The sun had gone in again, and it was again a little chilly.  We were joined by 5 feral cats and a kitten, all very wary, but won over by gifts of ham and cheese.   From here we went for a short walk in the laurisilva, laurel forest, of which Madeira has the one of the few surviving remnants in ‘Europe’.  It once flourished around the Mediterranean, but the Ice Ages did for it nearly everywhere there. Our botanist leader was very excited at being in this rich and rare spot.  Lunch had been late, and we were running later.  We made just one more stop on the way back to the hotel, to see the rare Madeiran saxifrage.  Here it is: and here are some of us looking at it.  Another lovely dinner in a Funchal restaurant, another fitness session back up to the hotel. Then watching a fireworks display taking place back down in the harbour, an event which the town of Funchal lays on every Saturday evening in June.