Category Archives: family

Glasgow & Highlands Walking

The seven hour drive north from London to Glasgow Sunday evening was uneventful; but, considering it was mostly motorway, strangely beautiful in the evening light. Arriving just before one o’clock Monday morning, there was not much else to do apart from briefly say hi to Fi and then sleep.

The purple patch of weather of the weekend in London continued with us and after a late brunch (it’s easy to justify a full Scottish breakfast when it’s noon & it really is breakfast and lunch) Fi took us on a very nice walking tour of Glasgow. Through the university, large sun-soaked parks and down to the side of the Clyde I was impressed and after the little I’ve heard about Glasgow, pleasantly surprised to be so.

On the walk back to Fi’s (recently acquired & nice) flat it was decided by consensus that it was definitely above the threshold temperature for gelato – starting a week of high ice cream consumption. Now that I think of it, that started a fortnight of regular ice cream eating. Adele & I weren’t really sure what Fi had planned for the week, so had packed the car for many eventualities. As the forecast was best earlier in the week, we soon had a chalet booked near Fort William (I tried not to miss having a bike too much) and drove north into the highlands planning a bit of walking the next day. The town itself proved quite a frustrating one in which to find a decent place to eat in the shoulder season; the huge chicken skewers were definitely memorable, but (in an unrelated way) that night started a strange week-long run of extremely broken sleep & I still don’t know why.

Tips Fi had gleaned from others suggested we should take a less trodden and defined route around the back of Ben Nevis and along a shoulder to avoid the easy route up. Some unplanned reconnaissance (we missed the turn for the trailhead) showed a lot of snow still up that way, so I was beginning to have doubts. Even with the detour we were walking shortly after eight o’clock on a beautiful morning with good views up and down the glen and of the surrounding hills. It certainly is a big wide path up to the top of the UK’s highest peak, but there are enough big rocks and steps mixed with switchbacks and, in such weather, good views that it is definitely not boring climbing – I quite enjoyed it, but then I usually much prefer hiking up over hiking down , when I just think of bikes.

It flattened out a lot briefly before we reached the junction in our path. Still undecided about which route, we walked north to check out the more difficult one. Getting under the north face we could see that there was a substantial amounts of snow and wind up further along the route; with none of us really knowing the route or having more suitable equipment, common sense prevailed and we headed back to the main trail. At the junction we met the frontrunners of a large group of Edinburgh bus-drivers out on a charity walk before we started hauling in those walkers we’d already passed earlier on.

We steadily, actually it was pretty quick – Fi sets quite a pace – continued to climb – enjoying the switchbacks that took us away from a strong headwind. For the last few hundred metres of ascent it was a choice of hard packed snow or getting well off route and clambering over the rocks – I found the rocks an easier route for climbing. Unfortunately it clouded over pretty well as we neared the summit and the wind was fierce – we were quite glad we took this route up for our little outing. There were occasional breaks in the cloud to give views around. The most memorable part of the top of the UK was when one of the vanguard of bus-drivers (there were three about the same pace as us) pulled out a full bottle of Scotch, still in its box, and numerous shot glasses and offered us a wee dram. I’m not much of a whisky drinker, but it was pretty good – & possibly Adele’s first, which in the inclement conditions led to surprised comments of the warming qualities of such drinks.

Walking and running down on the snow was much quicker and quite good fun. We sat out of the wind and enjoyed a long lunch while we watched the rest of the (un-fitter) bus-drivers struggle on up – along with a large collection of people in all sorts of strange and, bordering on, unsuitable attire. Just as well the views were good as the trip down was the usual tedium of walking in zig-zags to try and stop my knees hurting for days afterwards – two walking poles between three doesn’t go so well, but my knees seemed to hold up better than expected.

It turned out to be only just over a six-hour outing – that’s including our half-hour detour and half-hour leisurely lunch; so plenty of time for more ice cream in the sun as we gave up on the Information Centre and headed back to the chalet for WiFi to research the next day’s outing. I say that, but after planning the rest of the three week holiday for Adele, I was more than happy to sit in the back seat – literally & figuratively. Pre-dinner drinks on the balcony overlooking Loch Linnhe were followed by a meal that is best remembered for the waitress continually apologising for the meltdown the chef was apparently having – “lucky we didn’t say anything about the dirty knife”.

Wednesday wasn’t quite as sunny in the morning, but that worked well to head to Glenfinnan to see the easily recognised viaduct.  Quite a spectacular setting and we timed it well to see the train from Fort William steam across – if that was the Hogwarts Express, we missed getting on it, so went back to do more muggle oriented activities.

The sound and smell of a steam train is very good indeed

Looking out over Loch Shiel near the Glenfinnan monument

That afternoon we went on a couple of pleasant strolls through various woods & forests that the girls had found somehow. The first was most noteworthy for my legs being destroyed by the notorious Scottish midges (after two weeks the bites have finally almost completely faded) during lunch, rickety bridges over a pond & half the intended trail being closed due to logging. The second walk was through quite pleasant woods with randomly spaced carvings made out of dead tree-stumps, a pond with ducklings, more bluebells (we’d seen many previously) and the picturesque River Spean. More ice creams.

Our drive north continued with a bit of Nessie spotting as we went up the west edge of Loch Ness to Drumnadrochit. We didn’t see Nessie, but it was still quite light and we obviously hadn’t had enough to drink. The local ale at the brew pub was pretty good – Adele even enjoyed her first real ale. The pint was substantially better than the greeting one must assume is only given to locals at the bar – “are you going to order or just sit there making the place ugly?”. Other peculiarities included novelty-onesie clad horse-riders wandering through the bar (horses left in the middle of the car park).

Adele by this stage in this trip had developed a fascination for castles, so that got a bit of a fix Thursday morning as we visited the nearby Urquhart Castle on the shores of Loch Ness. With an interesting role in the Scottish Wars of Independence, it was a good visit – although most of the signs posted gave the impression that they had no idea what different parts of the castle were used for.

Time to head back to Glasgow, we drove the short distance north to Inverness (sights seen included the castle from a distance and a fascinating multi-story car park, before we had lunch sheltering from the rain overlooking Beauly Firth) and then south on the notorious A9. It would have been rude to not break the journey up for Fi (I was still pleased to not be driving) with an ice cream – so a local dairy (in the British, not NZ, sense of the word) was found.

When I discovered Doune Castle was not much of a detour from the fastest route, I just had to go & see where so much of the Grail was filmed.

No large mammals or assorted poultry were thrown over the walls at us, which was most useful

It was almost closing time, so we had a brief wander around to satisfy my curiosity before we continued on towards Fi’s parents’ house for dinner. Looking back that was a rather surreal evening: Cally, the dog, had an injured paw & spent most of the night trying to chew off the dressing to the concern of all; people repeatedly seemed to lock themselves in the bathroom, or not; an endless parade of soft-toys; constant talk of power pylons; the story of two lost fishermen who thought it prudent to wave a red ball at a passing boat to indicate something was wrong; and somehow Jude knew that I’d been instructed to raise my BMI – she seemed determined that I should put on five pounds in the space of two hours, I have not eaten so much in a long time & that’s saying something. I ramble – it was a wonderful evening and a fitting end to a fantastic week in Scotland. I’m a little miffed that I’ve not managed to spend more time in such a beautiful part of the world. Not quite sure I’ll be able to rectify that now, but it would be nice to.

Whirlwind London sights

Arriving back from Paris, I only had two days to show Adele as much as possible of one of my favourite cities before the next week away. Pleasingly late-spring obliged with a stunning weekend of sun and heat – the city was teaming. Back at base (cousin Trish had the privilege/misfortune of that), first priority was wandering around the corner to feed Adele a proper British take on an Indian meal.

It didn’t disappoint

I’m not sure how going to watch the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace came up as the first thing to do Saturday morning, but it did. While I’ve seen the equivalent at Windsor Castle, somehow I’d missed this one. It turns out that it was excellent, which would explain the large crowds, with the two groups of guards changing over, a band for each and some sort of ceremonial cavalry unit.

From there we wandered down to Westminster, checking out the abbey and the Houses of Parliament. There also seemed to be a couple of organised bike events occurring – cue a lot of traffic backed up and much difficulty crossing streets. But I didn’t mind, because – bikes! The best of these was the Tweed Run which unexpectedly (to us) rode past as we were on Westminster Bridge. I’d not heard of this, but the basic idea was to get an old bike (plenty of drop handlebars, white-walled tyres and the odd penny-farthing), dress up in tweed or some similar old-fashioned style and ride around central London in the sun having a lot of fun. It looked just that.

Continuing up Whitehall we reached Trafalgar Square and then Leicester Square to take in Covent Garden, Chinatown and Seven Dials (where all the streets were closed for some big street festival). I think Adele was enjoying it – she kept following at least. Mostly following my nose we got to Lincoln Inn Fields and the Royal College of Surgeons. Having visited some years before, I was pretty sure Adele was going to enjoy their Hunterian Museum. It’s full of all sorts of anatomical specimens (both human and all sorts of other animals) that would no longer be collected & displayed today – most of what’s left of the collection (there was extensive damage in the Blitz) is from about two hundred years ago. I quite like the collection of surgical instruments – not because they’re gruesome (they are), but because my grandfather trained in their making during the war.

Adele wanted to ride at the front and top of a London bus, so that helped us on our way to St Paul’s and a stroll over the Thames on the Millennium Bridge. We then met my school friend Levi for a quick drink – what better on a hot English day than Adele’s (& possibly my) first Pimm’s. As Levi & Marki have just returned from a extensive road trip of the SW USA, I enjoyed hearing stories and comparing experiences. Eventually back on the train home suitably tired, we arrived home to find Trish had out done herself cooking dinner – I’m always partial to good food, but it’s even better when one has had an active day.

Apparently, if you’re going to pay to enter one tourist attraction in London – the Tower of London is as good as any. So that was the plan for Sunday; it’s a while since I’ve been but I didn’t mind returning as it is a good day out. We spent a good four hours there and even then it required some persuasion on my behalf to finally leave – as I contemplated the four-hundred mile/seven hour drive to Glasgow that night.  Adele surprised me with her historical interest – but I can remember when you come from little & young New Zealand, such things are fascinating.

The tour given by the Yeoman Warders was as good as I remember

Paris week

After two aborted attempts to find a time for Adele (my sister) to visit me in the UK from NZ for three weeks, May 2014 was finally chosen as being suitable for our respective work commitments. With Mum also visiting, a long wet winter with no travel for me and the work shutdown & impending redundancy, there was eager anticipation on my part for this May just past.

With a day catching up over various meals with extended family north of London and Adele battling jet-lag while trying to remain sociable over, the three of us were off to Paris for four nights – as I was adamant it was a European city Adele must see (it’s taken twenty-seven years to get her back to Europe, so who knows when it may happen again). We stayed an easy walk north of the Arc de Triomphe in a pleasant apartment; with reasonable spring weather (I only remember one decent bit of rain – when we were on top of Notre Dame) we walked around a lot looking at things and generally marveling at the beauty of the city. I was fine with this as I’d had a very hectic week doing what I wanted in the city almost five years ago. I think we all had a good time, with many croissants and other baked goods consumed – it was just as well we walked a lot.

Family selfie cleverly obscuring the scaffolding on the other half of the Arc de Triomphe

Notre Dame

Musee d’Orsay – still my favourite of the Paris galleries

The view is not bad from the top of the Eiffel Tower

Back at Notre Dame, not just for the family picture

Earlier in the week, we had met Adele’s friends Gavin & Amy (ex Christchurch, but now living in Sheffield – although Gavin seems to spend most of his time in Central African Republic) for dinner. On the Thursday Adele went off on a day trip to Fontainebleau with them, which included some rock-climbing. Mum & I being not that interested in such things went off to Versailles, only to find that the staff at the Palace had gone on strike at short notice. So we returned to Paris and spent the afternoon at Sacre Coeur – wine, cheese & biscuits before lounging/napping in the hot sun in front of the basilica.

Somehow for the last night of the week I was back to my usual dining-while-travelling situation of eating alone – but as it turned out, that was fine as Trip Advisor came up trumps with a small local restaurant and an absolutely exquisite meal. A fun week showing off Paris, riding the metro, walking a lot and possibly eating even more was over – Eurostar back to London Friday afternoon.

A long weekend return to Barcelona

The first May long weekend made a good time to join Mum as she visited Spanish friends (from her time at university in New Zealand) in Barcelona.  On my previous visit about eighteen months ago, I’d done all that was at the top of my list of things to do in what is a fantastic city.  Consequently, I had no real agenda of places to see – so that made it rather relaxed.  We were warmly welcomed by Araceli and her family in their large flat (actually two combined into one) all weekend and, importantly, well fed with Catalan food.

When not eating or just hanging out at the flat, Mum & I did a fair bit of walking around just exploring places. Noticeably better weather than spring at home was conducive to this. We enjoyed poking down small alleyways and streets in El Gótic (the old gothic area) and investigating interesting looking stores.

The cathedral

From Montjuïc (where a lot of the Olympics was held)

Walking around Poble Espanyol

Plaça d’Espanya

Just a dog keeping an eye on the world walking past

After a shorter day walking around on Sunday, I still had energy to burn. I’d spied a few mountain bikes in the flat; kindly Jordi lent me one so I could go for a ride in the evening sun. An urban jump bike was a little different – but with the tyres fully inflated & the fork rock hard for commuting, it was fine. I had my eye set on reaching the tower & church perched up on the ridge running behind the city. With a steep climb up the city streets, I was soon at the end of the tram route and the beginning of a funicular railway. Here I found a dirt road heading up that soon turned into singletrack – bonus. This connected onto a big wide running & cycle path that follows the hills around for miles. There were plenty of people out running & riding – I’ve decided Barcelona mountain-bikers are particularly unfriendly as I couldn’t coax a smile out of any of the many I saw.

Eventually, I decided this route wasn’t getting me closer to my targets – so switch-backed onto the road and continued upward past increasingly large houses and great views off both sides of the ridge. I found a great steep rocky route off the road up to the transmission tower (Torre de Collserola) – but after grunting up that, I was turned around by double chainlink fences & many CCTV cameras. I did make it to the top by a more conventional route & after a quick look around, headed down for dinner. It sure was a lot quicker going down through the 300-odd metres of elevation change – I managed to find even more rocky singletrack on the way back down. A great little unplanned excursion all up.

Torre de Collserola

Sagrat Cor at Tibidabo

I was convinced that Mum must see Sagrada Familia – I wanted to go back & see how much more of the Unfinished Church had been finished since my last visit. Alas, by the time we got there the line had grown too much & did not want to stand in that for hours. Still, I was pleased to see the building again and confirm that it still warrants Dad’s continued enthusiasm for it forty or so years after he saw it.

We managed a pleasant boat-ride around the harbour and an hour at the maritime museum before more fascinating walking of the older parts of the city – not to mention more shopping for food. As it had been over six months since my last vacation abroad (not really the point of being over here, but needs must) it was fantastic to get away with Mum for the weekend. Now there’s only a short week at work to get through before I make up for that six months.