Category Archives: UK

city, family, history, UK

Bristol Stroll

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It was a surprisingly easy two hour drive up to Bristol last night. I’m staying with third cousins here for two nights as tomorrow I’m meeting up with friends and finally heading out for a ski this winter.

With a proper chilly start to the day, I was well chufffed to see a brilliant blue sky.  After a lazy morning including sleeping in, entertaining the kids, drinking tea and eating copious amounts of coffee cake, behind us – we headed out for me to be shown around Bristol.

Driving past the Downs (strangely on the top of the hill) I heard of the city’s profiting from the slave trade, which is reflected in such placenames as White Lady Road & Black Boy Hill. Down to underneath the famous Clifton Suspension Bridge we were following the Avon up to the old docks.

I was intrigued that there was such a thing as a free parking lot so close to town. But there was and soon the kids were in the buggy and the manic dog was running in circles as we wandered into the centre of town taking our time to feed ducks that weren’t skating on the ice. As I got sidetracked by old cranes and trains on the dockside and there were plenty of people also out enjoying the sunshine, it was a little while before we finally sat down for lunch.

The sun was sinking as we emerged for the return trip, which was quite chilly as we strolled at a Dotty (two year old) pace back to the car, curiously bumping into Ollie’s brother and his family heading the other direction. Now we are back at home and I’m sat in front of a roaring fire with tea and more cake watching The Princess Bride, all is well.

(Annoyingly, my shoulder operation has been pushed back a month.)



around home, bikes, MTB, UK

Last rides

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For my last weekend of riding for many months, winter finally decided to turn up – just a little bit. Saturday dawned beautiful & clear – Ady & I headed out for a similar loop of the Forest to the previous week’s. With an extra layer on in deference to the -5ºC, it was great to have the Forest dry for a change. With a slightly slower pace than last time, the best part of the riding (apart from being out on such a great morning) was riding across all the frozen puddles & either locking up the wheels to slide across or suddenly breaking through the ice.

Sunday’s news was of course dominated by the UK coming to a grinding halt in places with a few inches of snow. Pleasingly, it just rained a bit down this way & I set off up the M3 with Dan towards Winchester – meeting at Chris’s house in Otterbourne. As soon as we got off the motorway the snow starting showing up on the side of the road. We set off through a few inches using a variety of bridleways & side-streets to go around Winchester anti-clockwise through some rather posh patches. A few centimetres of snow is great fun as there is still mostly traction, but a just enough sliding around for the front wheel to make things interesting. Eventually we were off the roads & cutting through the countryside avoiding puddles & trying to keep our feet warm. It was noticeably warmer, but damper than Saturday’s ride.

There were some big wide tracks that provided plenty of amusement snaking around many puddles. Unfortunately by this stage, our feet were starting to get wet from the constant spray. In the end, our three different methods for keeping warm feet all failed well & truly – at the first decent food stop, there was much walking around on the road to try & warm our feet.

Through more fields, down bridleways & the occasional piece of singletrack we carried on. After a particularly wet, muddy & slow field crossing, during which we were delighted not to have the large-horned steers impale us, we hit the South Downs Way and headed back towards Winchester. It wasn’t long after that we stood around cursing our cold feet as Dan extracted a large thorn from his tyre & patched a tube. That was about the time I took this photo – apologies for lack of nice photos, stopping to satisfy my shutter-finger wasn’t a large priority.

Strangely, as the snow was mostly melting by now, we hit the deepest drift of the day in the middle of an open field. More fun sliding around, it was a pity that the spring that holds my brake pads apart somehow got bent in part & then started rubbing annoyingly on the rotor. There was no way I was changing that with so little distance to go until home – it took long enough to remove the calliper from the frame & cable-tie it to my seat. The 50 km were up with a lot less resistance for me (you never realise just how much your brakes are rubbing when you gradually get used to it). Back at Chris’s it was time to painfully remove socks, warm up & hose bikes, shoes, clothes & backpacks of much splatter.

So there you have, my last ride report for quite some time (“and there was much rejoicing”).

around home, history, UK

Salisbury Sunday

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Having learnt my lesson by being exhausted going out for a ride in the forest on Saturday morning with a workmate who whizzed round the trails using the big ring, while I spun my only chainring furiously – Sunday was set aside for a day off the bike & going for a little drive to do something touristy while I still had both arms.  It was a cool, gloomy day – but one of the advantages of surviving a long Canadian winter is that anything above freezing point is warm – for my trip half an hour north to Salisbury.

The famous cathedral (tallest spire in the country) dominates the still-nicely-sized city & it wasn’t long before I spotted that curious English sight of someone standing in a river in the middle of the city trying to coerce tiny fish on to a hook.

It was a lot sunnier when I came here with Mum forty odd months ago. But the cathedral is no less impressive

I had hoped to fill in the some of the day at a museum or two before a quick wander around the cathedral.  Inexplicably, the main museum was closed so I was wandering around the cloister & over all sorts of gravestones well before I expected.

This stone is a lot newer than most & is only of any significance in that it was unveiled just as I was taking my first breaths half a world away in New Zealand – not sure how I spotted that.

I was pleased to discover that there was a tour you could take that was basically climbing a few stairs (332) up to the top of the tower/base of the spire.  I was even more pleased to find that there was a single spot left on it – I couldn’t leave that empty, so promptly took it.  I still had plenty of time to wander around the nave & appreciate the oldest working mechanical clock in the world, the general incredibleness of the masonry in a building over seven hundred years old & the best surviving copy of the Magna Carta (in the Chapter House) – the new font is very neat too, but I didn’t get a good picture.

After the opening spiel from our good humoured, but very proper, guide we set off up the first of five progressively narrower spiral staircases.  In the picture three above we climbed up the left front corner halfway, then walked across the end of the nave to the right corner before another flight of stairs.

We were then up in the roof space of the nave.  It was neat to see the crude, but solid, structural pieces holding up this huge building.  The top side of the nave ceiling wasn’t nearly as attractive to the eye; we could see some of the two acres worth of lead sheeting through the oak-work that still forms the roof after all this time.  We walked towards the centre of the cathedral, ducking out to a tiny balcony to check out the view of the Close & look towards Old Sarum (where Salisbury originally was on top of a hill, before they decided they were sick of no easily accessible water supply) over modern (it’s a relative term) Salisbury.

Inside the tower there was the bell ringing mechanism – even if the bells were further above.  The bells used to be rung manually & when the mechanism went in they decided it was too big & cumbersome to get up to the bells, so just ran some ropes up.  The framework below had to be put in by Christopher Wren to stop the after-thought tower (it went up in the 1300s) slowly heading towards collapse.

Up even more rickety spiral staircases we managed to get pretty close to all the bells – thankfully not quite at the right time.  It was pretty noisy on the floors immediately below & then above when they did ring out on the quarter-hours.

Finally we were at the top of the tower looking up in to the huge spire.  The scaffolding that was left after construction was almost as impressive – nothing like the scaffolding I’ve seen around the many plants I’ve worked in.

There was just enough room for the thirteen of us out on the balcony so we could look up along the face of the spire & out over the city.

You can just see the top of the tallest spire in England – 123 metres

Looking down along the roof under which we walked

Another interesting unplanned & unexpected outing – the Tower Tour is well worth the extra few quid if you have the time.

around home, history, UK, vehicles

Bond cars & some more rides

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With Saturday morning gone spent looking for ski clothes in Southampton (I found a jacket – at least I’ll be a little easier to spot now on the slopes), I was keen to get out for a little ride before it got dark. As the new Bond car exhibition has opened properly just down the road at Beaulieu, I struggled against a huge headwind through the forest to get there for a free look. It’s quite the impressive collection of about fifty various Bond vehicles (cars, motorbikes, boats) from most of the series (not much from Dr No) – with the more recent movies being better represented obviously. The best of the lot were the two from Goldfinger – Goldfinger’s Rolls Royce & the quintessential Bond car, a DB5. The Aston Martin from Living Daylights was a particular favourite of mine – the cello case would be one of the stranger ones.

Sunday’s MTB club ride was miles better than the previous one I went on. I joined a group just because I heard the word “hills” mentioned. As it was in the New Forest, it was all bridleways & byways – but some of them quite old & also muddy to slow quite a few of our group down. I think Dean, our leader, was used to a faster group – but I was pleased to have a crazy singlespeeder to keep up with. The hills weren’t much to speak of, but at least they were there & I could stretch my legs out a bit on them. We were slowed by a couple of punctures, but still managed to find time for a pub stop after the ride.