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.

 

Madeira Revisited 4

Tags

Baia d'Abra, Bonita da Madeira, cochineal, Funchal, Madeira, Ponta da Garajau, Sâo Lourenço

Madeira Revisited 4. A very different landscape on Friday. We were at the far eastern tail of the island, on the Sâo Lourenço peninsula, dry and arid and very windy. The usual pattern: a there and back walk, botanists behind, better walkers in front, me taking pictures of flowers and views, and many walkers of many nationalities. Lots of up and down, but not as much as the day before.

Looking south. The smudges in the sea are a fish farm.

More layers of volcanic ejecta

The sea to the north

Unfortunately I was beaten after an hour or so. By the wind.  Not having had full sensation in my feet for a couple of years now, passing over a high and very exposed spot, unbalanced by camera and binoculars round my neck, and wearing a wide brimmed sunhat, I was actually terrified that I would be blown over by a gusts of the (pleasantly warm) wind onto the hard stony ground.  Very reluctantly I had to turn back and reach a more sheltered spot, where I sat for a while. 

Maximum zoom on the fish farm and a small boat tending it

After a bit, I moved further towards the car park, and found an almost suitable boulder on which to sit. For a long while.  I confess that I did get a little bored, but amused myself taking more photos. And a video.

 

I was on a mini peninsula at the side of a bay, the Baia d’Abra.  The other side of the bay was a long way off, and it was impossible to make individual people out.  But I suspected that some people sitting down way across above the multi-coloured cliff were a few of my companions, so I took a photo on maximum zoom, and enlarged it as much as I could in my camera. (I really was quite bored by now! There was nowhere to lie down and have a snooze, nor was it warm enough.) I could indeed identify people from our party.  I assumed they were sitting to have their lunch (which I took to as a cue to have my own) but I learned later they had been birdwatching and had seen, among other things, canary and rock sparrow. Oh well, I had watched grasshoppers … and a rather elegant wooden tourist boat, the Bonita da Madeira, following the coastline of the bay. Together once more, we went back along the south coast towards Funchal, and stopped at Ponta da Garajau, for liquid refreshment and what was intended to be a further walk down a cliff path to find a particular plant. However, the authorities had roped it off as too dangerous.  This did not stop our leader venturing just a few metres into it to collect this insect from a cactus. He then passed it to  a volunteer who agreed to crush it in her palm. This was the cochineal insect, much prized as a very expensive trading item centuries ago, and which set me off singing to myself an extract from a madrigal by Thomas Weelkes (1575-1623), Thule, the period of cosmography. This includes the line, ‘The Andalusian merchant, that returns laden with cochineal and China dishes,…’.

Another delicious meal in a downtown Funchal restaurant, and the obligatory exercise afterwards (taxis were available for those who wished) ended the day.

Madeira Revisited 3

Tags

Funchal, Madeira, Pico d'Arieiro, Pico Rivo, Porto da Cruz

Madeira Revisited 3.  We were above the clouds again on the Thursday, quite near to where we had been the previous day, but after a much longer drive because of a road closure.  We were driven to a pretty high spot, and thereafter would walk, theoretically to the top of Pico Ruivo (1862 metres/1608 feet) which was not much higher, except that there was a great deal of up and down, (a very great deal of up and down), on the way. I left the keen botanists behind, and better walkers than I went ahead of me.  I just took my time, and, as the previous day, amused myself taking photos of plants and views.

Near the beginning of the walk, looking south

Looking north-west

Looking north, over to the radar station on Pico d’Arieiro where we had been the previous day. So near yet so far. It was walkable along a rather hazardous footpath, and we saw people on it.

Looking back after a short while to the car park

The weather was ideal for walking, not too hot, with a little breeze. Much, but not all, of the path was paved, like this.

Could a path be more inviting…?

lined with buttercuppy plants,

… and dandeliony plants?

We had been told that the last part, to the top of the Pico, was just 400 steps. The white splodge at the upper right of this picture is a refuge at the bottom of those last 400 steps. After quite a lot of walking I had admitted to myself that there was no way I was going to inflict that last stage on myself, and indeed that I would probably turn round well before it.  In fact I did make it to the refuge, but once there was not in the least enticed by the thought of being able to see a very rare plant (viola paradoxa, a yellow violet, an oxymoron to me!) at the top, or by the encouragement of my companions to attempt it. 

A guide at the refuge to some of the plants in the area. I can’t see my buttercuppy or dandeliony plants there – probably too common – but the viola paradoxa is there).

On the way back

I ate my lunch at this halt, pleased to find that it was not totally occupied by others already. Given that doing the walk were many people of many nationalities – German, then French, then Portuguese in my estimation far outnumbering British people – I was pleased to have a bench to myself.

The cloud cleared to the north of the island …

but not to the north, which is not how it’s meant to be!

We moved on in the early afternoon to Porto da Cruz, on the north coast, where I had been on my previous visit to Madeira, so I didn’t take many photos.  While there we were able to visit a sugar cane processing factory, new to me,to have a wander around the coastline, and to admire the geology.  I hadn’t really twigged before that volcanic rock could be sedimentary, but of course these lines are formed by layer upon layer of volcanic ash and other spewings.

A cool drink (I took the drink based on local sugar cane rum, poncha,) in the shade at a local café made a nice end to our outing, and another good evening meal at a Funchal restaurant, followed by a vertical hike back to our hotel, rounded off the day nicely.

Madeira Revisited 2

Tags

Balcoes, Echium candicans, Fringilla coelebs maderensis, Funchal, levada, Madeira, Madeiran chaffich, maderensis, Pico d'Arieiro, Pride of Madeira, Ribeiro Frio

Madeira Revisited 2.  Wednesday 6th June. On my previous visit we had covered a lot of ground, and it was inevitable that this time I would repeat some places.  But this was no problem, as the nature and extent of the visits were very different. On this and four of the following five days (the fifth was free) our focus was nature, and since there seemed sadly not to be many butterflies or a great variety of birds, it was plants and their flowers which were the main interest, so it was a good thing that our principal guide, Martin, was a superb botanist. That said, I had not a hope of retaining the English names – where there were such – let alone the Latin ones which  tripped off his tongue, so I just enjoyed myself taking hundreds – literally – of photos, from which to choose a few for here, of the plants and the views. (Many of the species had ‘maderensis’, Madeiran, in their names.)Each morning the minibuses picked us up at 9 a.m. for the day’s touring. I had indeed been to our first stop, the Pico do Arieiro, pretty well due north of Funchal, halfway between north and south coasts. As it is 1818 metres, nearly 6000 feet, high, the third highest peak on the island, I was pleased the buses took us all the way there, and also that, as before, while we had driven through cloud, we were well above it by now, and indeed this time it cleared while we were there. Previously, we had hung around the top by the radar station and the café/shop centre, admiring the wonderful views.  This time we walked among them along a ridge for an hour or so, learning about the plants.

Echium candicans, ‘Pride of Madeira’.

All the rock is of volcanic origin of course

Our next stop, nearby, was also familiar, Ribeiro Frio, but this time, whereas it had been cold and misty before, the sun was out for most of the time, but not too hot, ideal for walking.

This fungus, Martin explained, is pretty rare because it will only grow on this particular tree, which is endemic to Madeira.

Indeed, on the previous occasion I had noticed that there were ‘levada’ walks from that place, known for its trout farms, and I was pleased to have the opportunity this time to follow them up. We did two, one before our picnic lunch and one after. The first took us to a viewpoint at Balcóes.  I took all these following photos within ten minutes of each other and from the same spot!

Looking down

Looking across

Looking back

Looking up

Looking down and leaning sideways

After lunch, a little way from Balcóes,I struck out on my own, as did most people, leaving the very keen botanists with Martin, along a broad levada walk, again from Ribeiro Frio.  Levadas are watercourses built from the 15th to the 20th centuries to transfer water from the much wetter north of the island to the dry south. They now also provide walking paths, some narrow, crumbling and dangerous, some very broad, with only imperceptible inclines.

Marsh orchid

A soft drink at the end at a café back in Ribeiro Frio was well-deserved, and provided us with entertainment from Madeiran chaffinches like this one (which has ‘maderensis’ in its Latin name). After a rest at out hotel, we walked down to town for a meal in one of the dozens of restaurants in the Rua de Santa Maria, where you take your liberty in your hands if you haven’t already a booking (we had) or at least a target firmly in mind!

 

Toulouse and Tarn 8

Tags

Fronton, plane tree, Tarn, Villemur-sur-Tarn

Wednesday, Final scenic drive. It was with very mixed feelings that I woke this morning. Was I actually keen to get home?  My flight back to Bristol was late afternoon, and the car had to be returned by 2.30. The weather promised to be rather better, and I could hope not to have to use the broken umbrella, even to see a little blue sky. It would only have taken me under an hour to get back from Lisle-sur-Tarn to Toulouse airport on main roads, so planned out a route via country roads and villages.  Not as spectacular as I had seen on Monday, as the geology was less dramatic, but pleasant – and it would have been even more pleasant had I in fact seen any blue sky. At least there was no rain. Taking the quiet roads enabled me to see and stop at more wildflower-studded meadows,  and pretty – if forlorn – houses. This part of France maintains many of the plane trees lining roads, originally designed to shade those walking or driving carts along them.  (Other places blame them for car accidents and have ripped them out.) I had never before seen oaks serving the same purpose.  Coffee time, and I stopped at a town called Villemur-sur-Tarn.  No problem in parking here, though I didn’t go right into the centre, but stopped along an embankment of the Tarn.  When I saw this as I walked into the centre, I did wonder if I should have left my phone number in the windscreen! It was reassuring shortly afterwards to find out that the last time that the flooding had come so high was in 1766. The more modern notice must have been for the underground car park I had passed.

Further along the embankment, a very full information panel told me that there had been hydroelectricity here as well, from 1896, and that the factory opposite had made cereal foodstuffs until quite recently. But what’s happened to the celebrated French pavement café?  I could find absolutely nowhere, inside or outside, to have a drink! Even the Café de l’Hôtel de Ville was empty, not just of people but of furniture! Fortunately I had water in the car.

I still had quite a way to go, but didn’t take many more photographs. 

An orchid I think, but I can’t identify it.

Quite near to the airport I went through another town well-known for its region’s wines, Fronton, and saw an enormous co-operative, but couldn’t stop to record it, just this token one of vines.  (A bit irksome to read in that link that the area is known for its dry heat.)I hadn’t seen many poppies, which like disturbed ground, at all, so was very pleased, when driving around a town with a huge gravel works, to see these on a recently constructed bank. From now on I was concentrating on getting to the car hire depot on time, and on finding fuel to be able to return the car with a full tank.  At the airport it was with great satisfaction that I abandoned my poor, spoke-broken umbrella to a bin!

‘Did you have a good holiday?’ I have been asked since.  Hmm. Well, it wasn’t exactly what I’d planned, the highlights being cultural rather than rural, and I did feel deprived. It was pleasing to find that not only the lovely views (obviously) but also the lovely fields of wildflowers (not such a certainty) were still there. It would have been great to enjoy them in the ‘normal’ spring weather for that part of the world at this time of year.  Did I enjoy my holiday?  Yes, overall I did – but I was very glad to have included Toulouse in my plans! And that I now have an organised nature trip to Madeira to look forward to…

PS.  I did buy 100 grams of chocolates from that chocolate shop next to my hotel in Toulouse, and they only make very small ones.  So, at one a day, and back now a fortnight, I am looking forward to having the very last one with coffee after my meal this evening.

Toulouse and Tarn 6

Tags

Aveyron, Bruniquel, Cordes, Gaillac, Ingres, Montauban, Montricoux, Puycelsi, St-Antonin-Noble-Val

Monday, Hilltop Villages. Today’s weather was forecast to be worse than ever, and indeed so it turned out to be.  At no time did the temperature rise above 9°C/48°F, and with the wind chill factor added, I was absolutely frozen at times, and wished I had gloves with me.  A complete relook at plans was necessary, and I decided to drive to the fairly large town of  Montauban, about an hour away, as there was a substantial Ingres museum there to occupy me.  I had gone about halfway when I realised it was Monday, so thought I’d better check that it would be open, as so much in France is closed on the first working day of the week. It took me a while to obtain a signal, but in due course I was so glad that I had checked.  The museum was indeed closed, but not (only) because it was Monday. It was undergoing substantial renovation! At this I really could think of no alternative but to set off on the trip round the hilltop villages and countryside that I had imagined would in fact, in decent weather, occupy me for the two full days I had in the area.

The first village was Puycelsi, and I drove up and up and up and up the wind-y road until I reached the main square, where I was delighted to find an open café.  There was no-one of course sitting on the extensive terrace, but there were two pairs of apparent tourists inside.

View from the terrace of the café

I spun out my coffee as long as I could, then ventured outside to explore.  Magnificent views on two sides.  Being so high up though, this corner took the full force of the wind.  I did my best to take photos and this video, my camera in one hand and my umbrella in the other.

 

At this point the wind broke two spokes of my brolly. I continued walking round the village, somewhat more sheltered from the wind, and the rain ceased for a while. My hands were still bitterly cold. 

Note a couple of dots at the end of the alley

These are they. Puss doesn’t look too pleased at the weather either.

I drove on

…taking a backward look at Puycelsi…

to Bruniquel of which I had very pretty memories from 1990. By now it was nearly lunchtime, so I looked out for either something to buy or somewhere to eat.  Everything shut – it was Monday, as I explained to some Canadian (?) tourists who approached me to ask firstly if I spoke English and then if I had seen an open restaurant.  I walked up to one of the two castles.  Given the age of each, I was not sure whether this was the old one or the new one, but I took a few more photos up there. 

The Aveyron

I remembered this view – in brilliant sunshine

As I recall I didn’t actually have my umbrella up at all in this village, and the wind was a little quieter.

 

The next stop was Montricoux, where I was happy to find a bar, serving meals, and open.  I only wanted a soup and a coffee. They were happy to serve this to me, but the computerised till was stumped in due course.  The soup was just the first course of their set menu, and there was no icon to press for that alone.  So the proprietor decided to charge me as if I had had a portion of chips (frites/French fries)!    I wandered round the town for a while, until it started raining again. 

I liked this – deliberate or otherwise – green roof

I then drove on to St-Antonin-Noble-Val, a fascinating place, via the beautiful Aveyron valley and its gorges. When I eventually found parking, I saw from my satnav that the interesting old town was pedestrianised, and a five- to ten-minute walk away.  I didn’t get out of my car. A further long drive followed, and I was delighted that the satnav took me off the main roads and by some fields of wildflowers, and between rain showers.  Sadly, I don’t think these photos do justice their prettiness.As I was gasping by now for a drink, I just parked in the centre of Cordes, and went to the nearest salon de thé for a lemon tea. As I am trying Toulouse weight (sorry) I resisted, as I did throughout the trip, all the wonderful pastries on offer.  I also resisted wandering round the town, (although I remembered it was very pretty), because of the rain. In 1990 we had seen on a poster the name of its local choir: Cordes Vocale.

The final part of my circular drive, back to my lodgings, took me through mile after mile after mile of vineyards on rolling hills (Gaillac is the local wine).  I was very frustrated that I could not stop to take any photos of these, but I was on main roads in the rush hour.  There was just too much traffic for me to stop, and any laybys were in the wrong place for photos.

The day finished with another lovely meal prepared by my host, who by now had learned not to pile the new potatoes from his garden too high. I was in bed by 8.30, so cold was I (despite the additional heating provided) until 8.30 the following morning.

Toulouse and Tarn 5

Tags

Agout river, Albigensian crusade, bastide, flea market, GIroussens, Hndred Years War, Languedoc, Lavaur, Lisle-sur-Tarn, Toulouse

Driving from Toulouse to Lisle-sur-Tarn. Driving an unfamiliar car is always a bit nerve-wracking for me, so when a rainstorm started while I was on the shuttle bus to collect the hire car, I was a little worried.  Fortunately the rain stopped, leaving the gift of a cold wind in its stead, just as I reached the airport, and I found the car hire place with not too much difficulty.  A Fiat Panda was mine for the next three days.

I had plenty of time before I needed to be at my chambre d’hôtes/B and B, so I went the long way round, to places just picked off the map as having some tourist interest.  When I got to Lavaur, I found that some of the stallholders at a flea market were starting to pack up, but there was still plenty to see, and with permission I took a few photos, before wandering around the town for a short while.  Its church was unprepossessing from outside. I stepped inside to find almost complete darkness, and total silence.  I felt cushioned by the silence. No traffic noise, no resonance, not a rustle, no sacred muzak, no electric hum. Absolute, total silence. Lovely – a tiny bit spooky even.

In these photos, the camera lightens the view I saw, though I have photoshopped the first to indicate how my eyes first perceived the interior. The only other thing of interest I noticed in the small town was this Halle aux Grains. Whereas the concert hall in Toulouse had been hexagonal, this one had twelve sides. (OK, it was dodecagonal.)  I moved on to the next village highlighted on my map, Giroussens. A great viewpoint, with an interesting field shaped by the bend in the River Agout, but it was beginning to blow hard now, presaging rain, I feared.  I walked a little way on to the church, (many in the area have a semi-fortified look, recalling the bastides built in the times when village life was not as tranquil as it is now, what with the Albigensian Crusade and the Hundred Years War). And then I went briefly down a little road just to have a quick look at the chateau, now a porcelain centre.   Not a soul around anywhere!It was good to get back to the car, and make for my final destination, Lisle-sur-Tarn, the arcaded town square of which I had a brief and very sunny memory from 1990.

When I found my lodging, it was slightly outside the town, a former hotel of some 12 rooms, now having chambre d’hôte status, with only four rooms in use.  (My host told me in due course that it had been going to cost him far too much to bring it up to approved hotel norms.) I turned out to be the only guest for the entire stay.  No respectable French person was going to take an impulsive break in such weather! David, the host, who ran the place on his own, was an excellent trained cook, who used much produce from his own garden.  I appreciated all this greatly as I took my evening meals there for the three nights,  He was very garrulous (which tested my French quite hard, as his rapid musings were expressed in a delightful, but sometimes difficult to understand, Midi accent!)  But he was kind and attentive. It wasn’t his fault that the weather was worse, for the time of year he, or, he said, his father could ever remember.

This area, Languedoc, was the reason for my trip, based on my 1990 souvenirs of wonderful sunshine and fields full of wild flowers.  I had been intending just to relax and wander around in the countryside, with few plans other than taking the occasional coffee on hilltop village café terrace. Clearly, given that the weather was now forecast to be much worse than it had been before I set off two days previously, I was going to have to rethink how I was going to spend my time.

USA 2018 (16), Aerial magnificence!

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Bristol Airport, California, Colorado, Grand Canyon, Ivanpah, KLM, Los Angeles, Mojave Desert, Rockies, Schifhol Airport, USA, Utah, Wyoming, Yellowstone

USA 2018 (16), Aerial magnificence!  The Los Angeles/Amsterdam flight was of course an hour late taking off on Sunday, 25th February. This time the reason given was ‘an incident in the hold on the previous flight’. Is that all you’re going to tell us?! Oh well, I’d a few hours to pass at Schiphol, before my 9th and final flight of the trip(= chance for luggage to be mislaid), to Bristol, so no worry, (though others were not as able to be as laid back about it, with much tighter connections to make). I had been allocated the window seat at the right hand side of the plane, so I took a few photos on my tablet – camera not easily accessible – as we rose above the LA coastline.Then I turned to my book. That is, until I remembered that there was a good chance we might be flying over the Mojave Desert.  We were, though only over the southern part, I later discovered. What on earth are these incredibly bright lights, apparently within saucers? Alien invaders? When I got home I was able to discover that they had been part of the controversial and biggest solar energy scheme in the world, the Ivanpah Solar Power Facility, on the California/Utah border. Wow! (The ‘saucers’ had been an optical illusion – the constructions were flat in reality.)

The scenery grew more and more spectacular. I started to wonder whether we might be going over Yellowstone in due course.  The answer was no – the flight map showed we would be going too far south, over Utah and Colorado rather than over north-west Wyoming.  I was riveted to the window.  Was it possible that this was the Grand Canyon?  If not, it’s amazing viewing even so. (A check with my atlas once I was home confirmed that indeed this had been the Grand Canyon, and the Rockies in Colorado.) We were cruising at between 33,000 and 39,000 feet.

There was no way I was going to avert my eyes from the window now. The flight attendant had to disturb me from my reverie to serve me the first meal.  I was glued to the window until we flew into the eastern dusk, with the sun setting behind us.What an amazing end to an amazing fortnight!

And here endeth the 16-part account of a most amazing trip to the United States, one I’ll never forget.  I’ve had enormous pleasure in writing it up, and selecting from the literally thousands of photos I took. Some kind people I know have read every post. To you and everyone who has dipped in, thank you so much for coming along with me on the journey!