Category Archives: UK

around home, bikes, GPS, history, MTB, UK

Hurst Castle

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After a week of gorgeous sunsets & sunrises on mild rides to & from work, winter finally decided to make a little bit of an appearance on Saturday with a few degrees of Jack still lurking when I set out for a little bit of ride west to check out Hurst Castle. A few miles down the road Beaulieu was looking pretty nice in the crispness.

I continued on back roads enjoying the peace & quiet, skirting around Lymington & many yachts propped up for the winter around the marina before riding the paths through the Lymington-Key Haven Nature Reserve.  It’s all very marshy and before rocksalt & transport was cheaper, it was a very profitable area for making salt. Now it’s quite the habitat for many species of birds & that curious breed – birdwatchers. I did my best not to hit any of them into the marsh as they stood on the path peering skyward.  After 25 km my goal was tantalisingly close across the water, but there were still a few miles of following the shore around through Key Haven & then along the two mile-long spit which was very shingly to the castle.

Hurst Castle is lying low next to the lighthouse

It was a bit of a slog along the shingle spit, but still a lot faster than walking

The Isle of Wight is only three-quarters of a mile across what is the end of the Solent

This Hurst Castle is rather underwhelming compared to the extravagance of the last Hearst Castle I went to.  The centre part of the castle dates back to Tudor times when Henry VIII built a string of castles stretching around the south-east of England to defend against invasion as he managed to antagonise the Catholic nations. They are all similarly designed – low-slung & circular. Being in such a good position to defend the Solent, the Victorians extended the castle a long way along the shore in both directions. It’s a little odd walking in & seeing just how long & narrow the castle is – definitely not your usual square keep. They put in numerous 38 ton guns, but a shot has never been fired in anger from the castle – that includes during its defensive duties through the two world wars.

At the end of the long spit on a reasonably chilly day, there weren’t a lot of other people around as I clattered around in my bike shoes.  There were plenty of nooks & crannies to explore around the Tudor central section.  I wasn’t exactly overdressed for the weather, so didn’t spend too much time reading the exhibits.  Instead I opted for eating my lunch watching the tide creep in – if I had have brought lashings of ginger beer I could have easily imagined I was about to discover a smuggler’s long forgotten treasure buried on Kirrin Island.

I avoided the circuitous route through the nature reserve on the return journey, but detoured back to Buckler’s Hard after Lymington. I took a few little walking paths trying to find an obelisk, the top of which I spied from some distance.  I tracked it down along Monument Lane, funnily enough, read the long tributes to a past MP & continued down the walking paths.  It was a little weird crossing a private airfield, but I was pleased to discover that the USAF used it for a while around D-Day to fly Thunderbolts on bomber-escort missions.  Find curious little bits of history like that is one of the great things about being following one’s nose in a country such as this.

Back through Beaulieu the sun was setting & as I climbed up to Hill Top I was surprised to pass a roadie struggling up the hill.  After forty miles, I was hardly fresh – this guy caught up to me on the flat, turns out he works in our head office & had ninety miles under his belt to explain my passing him.

Sunday was supposed to be a much shorter ride with Dan & Chris off-road in the Forest.  We looped around a bit & Chris showed us giant sequoias.  For the New Forest, these are big trees.  But after Yosemite & the NorCal coast last year, I was pleased just to be mildly interested.  Somehow we ended up way out west in a quaint village, Burley, with a good pub-stop to refuel on some big potato wedges.  Just as well the Forest is flat – the ride turned out longer than the previous day’s at 45 miles/72 km.  Beautiful day it was too, this place must be a zoo in the summer – there were so many people out on another frigid day.

around home, bikes, GPS, history, MTB, national park, UK, vehicles

Pedal & Steam Power

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Well thrilled at the prospect of a weekend at home & not having to drive hundreds of miles, I planned absolutely not-much. Of course, a couple of rides figured in that not-much – it having been a month since my last adventures off road & that shoulder op getting closer. Saturday’s was not at all ambitious – I headed to the diametrically opposite side of the Forest & followed some of the marked cycle trails (wide double track & some road, with plenty of walkers out). There were scruffy looking ponies in abundance as usual.

Just to prove that not all of the New Forest is beautiful, I think I stumbled on its secret ugly corner. It was bleak – low scrub, a dim day, sand, mud; I wonder why I didn’t see many people out there. But I was out on my bike pushing the cranks around & it was good. With twenty clicks under the wheels, it was a pleasant hour & a bit out stretching the legs.

The local MTB club (New Force) had a fortnightly ride on Sunday, northeast of Winchester. So I dragged myself out of bed & went & joined dozens of others. We split into three groups & ours proceeded on a long anticlockwise circuit along bridleways through rolling farmland. While it was dry overhead, there was plenty of moisture in the ground to deal with – the mud was draining & a good technical challenge, especially on any long descents. In fact a bit of road was sometimes welcome for the respite it provided. I’m not sold on these club rides, I thought mountain-bikers were generally friendly. Perhaps the English are just over people from all over the world – four hours & I hardly got a word out of anyone, I miss riding in North America. That’s beside the time when our group got split in two – who leads rides & doesn’t wait at big intersections?

Did see this good looking flag randomly down some country lane. Actually, I’d much prefer it were a silver fern on black

The day was salvaged by a big plate of cheesy chips (not quite poutine, but good enough), Somerset cider & then stumbling across a steam train near where I’d parked my car. I wandered up & down the platform a bit checking out the hissing engine & beautiful old carriages with the fascination one would expect of a history & engineering fiend. It occurred to me that I had no real reason to get home, so I paid my pounds & was issued with a quaint stiff cardboard ticket for the last return journey of the day. I had no idea where I was going, but that was just part of the fun.

We headed east under the setting sun across more green pastoral land, with plenty of cuttings to climb up a couple of hundred metres. The Mid Hampshire Railway, also known as the Watercress Line due to its predominant market-gardening commodity in the nineteenth century, has been restored since the ’70s & now runs the ten miles between Alresford (where I embarked) & Alton (which I’d never heard of) on many days of the year. They have a surprisingly large fleet of steam & some diesel engines & all sorts of old rolling stock stashed on various sidings along the line. With all the staff in period dress & the engine chugging in to the fast approaching evening, billowing smoke swirling down to cover the carriage windows it was all good fun – not to mention the first time I’ve been pulled by a proper steam engine in I-don’t-know-how-long.

It was easy to see all the signal control wires running alongside the rails

A pleasant end to the day – even if I was a little tired from the mud-riding & got told off by the guard for almost falling asleep on his train.

food, friends, London, UK

Catch up

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It was yet another trip up to London last, New Year’s, weekend. This time to drop Mum off at Heathrow for her return to NZ & see if I could find something to do for my completely unplanned New Year’s. For some reason, Levi & Marki didn’t make it to Krakow to see in the New Year. Actually that reason was it was too difficult to get from where ever they were skiing near Salzburg to Poland. But that worked out in my favour as they had a little gathering at theirs, so I braved the trains into the city. As always with Marki & Levi’s hospitality, I was extremely well fed & it was a good evening – even if I didn’t understand any of the multitude of eastern-European languages (but then no-one but Levi & I understood the Te Puke stories). We wandered up to the building’s roof to get a view of many of the various fireworks displays dotted around London as we opened champagne that kept multiplying.

Some sort of Czech food that was very tasty

Levi & Marki – on the remote chance any TP people are interested

Sunday I made the trek back home to Sidcup & generally sifted around seeing if a) Mum would fit all her things in her suitcase & b) how late we would be leaving for the airport. She did, & it was only 45 minutes – which I was quite impressed with. But we had plenty of time up our sleeves for a trying wet drive around the M25 before a tearful goodbye as Mum flew back to the other side of the world. As it turns out, it was well timed as a couple of days after Mum arrived home I got the sad news that my much-loved Grandma passed away after a prolonged slide into dementia. For me, I had about three years of being far removed to deal with the fact that I wouldn’t be seeing Grandma again. Still, as I said during all those earthquakes, it’s times like these that make one feel the furtherest from home.

On a note that will cut closer to the bone, I have a date for my shoulder op – February 21. It will be so nice to get it much more stable – although I’m sure it will come with a lot of sacrifices. Driving, riding & generally being armless come to mind.

city, family, friends, London, UK

London trips

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For the first time in my life, I’ve finally been able to start biking to work. But a five kilometre round trip is not all that much & is especially helped by it being a lot flatter than it seems in the car – which is quite the reverse of what I was expecting. So it may be closing in on the longest day of the year, but if it’s not raining & I get up early enough to get organised, a ride to work (even if it just one or two degrees above freezing – thanks Canada for not making me avoid the “cold”) is a nice little start to the day.

Last weekend was a trip up to London for Levi & Marki’s Christmas party. Always good catching up with them & there was plenty of food too. Also pretty fun catching up with a buddy from high school who I hadn’t seen about twelve years – I thought I’d got away from Canadians telling me to watch Trailerpark Boys, but it turns out Jeff is a bit of a fan too. There was no playing football on the deck with an offcut from the woodwork shop, but then the deck at the apartment is a little small & had more important duties as the beer fridge. Somehow I managed to walk out (just managed to walk onto the last train too, thus avoiding my first ever night-bus) with a huge ham – apparently I was the most worthy cause as Levi & Marki weren’t going to get the chance to eat it with travelling on the cards.

Around Sidcup on the weekend was pretty relaxing, on the way to visit Ray & Jill on Saturday morning Trish & I paid a visit to Rudolph’s buddies & their spindly looking antlers.  I’m sure they would still do a bit of damage.

Even after a big sleep in, Sunday was looking pretty grey so Trish & I decided to head out to another little Kentish village – Westerham – to check out Quebec House. After a nice lunch in one of those great English pubs that look like they’re doing a commendable impression of a drunk trying to stand up, we strolled through the village to check out the house. It was the birthplace of General Wolfe – who was apparently the first English military figure to be a popular hero. The name of the house comes from the name of the victorious battle that won him his fame & took his life. All very Nelsonesque – except Wolfe pre-dated him. I’d learnt a little about the battle that saw the British defeat the French in the war for control of Quebec City & Canada when I was at Buckler’s Hard a couple of weeks ago – some of the ships built there sailed to Quebec before the battle. Always interested to get a bit more Canadian history, the museum above the coachhouse had great displays & was very informative. The house was pretty dark inside, but had some interesting period pieces – muskets are pretty heavy it turns out.

I was back in London three days later for yet another appointment about my bung shoulder. So I’ll get keyhole surgery sometime next year – I asked for after-February so I can go skiing at least once this winter. As it’s been three months to get this far, I’m hoping that’s a safe request. I’ll be out of action for a while (six weeks in a sling) with no driving & definitely not biking – but it’ll be nice to get it fixed up & hopefully avoid the agony of the last dislocation repeating. So 2012 doesn’t look like it’ll be so active – but perhaps I’ll finally get around to seeing some more of Europe, which I think was the whole idea of leaving NZ two & a half years ago. Oops.