efog-blog
Recent outings and activities...
A Welsh Incident - August 2013
“But that was nothing to what things came out from the sea-caves of Criccieth yonder.” (this has to be said with a Welsh accent). What were they?... well EFOG weren't at Criccieth, they were at Bangor, so perhaps we'll never know.
What I knew was that I was trying to breath, sitting on a slippery slab of rock on a Welsh mountainside with my feet in some bog moss, and not much of a view through the rushes. This was the same rock that will forever bear the imprint of my head, arm, ribs and hip because it didn't like the tread of my boot. Anyway, application of arnica by Charlotte seemed to do something of a trick and I walked down off the mountainside to the car.
My intention was to have joined the EFOG group when they arrived at Bangor station on Friday 23rd August. I was booked on the same train, but had instaed travelled to North Wales a few days earlier with a friend. The stay on her farm north of Betws-y-Coed became an enforced one for a few days longer than I'd expected; arnica might only do so much.
Apart from lack of mobility, my other difficulty was mobile phone communications, as there is just one spot in the middle of a horse-field where it is occasionally possible to get a signal for a moment or two. The house phone wasn't much better because the group's mobile phones didn't seem to be functioning very well either for one reason or another... bloody mobile phones coverage.
I needed to arrange to join the group on Sunday to return home with them as originally planned. This was crucial because I thought I'd not manage my luggage alone. However the mice and men syndrome came in to play. I needed to meet with them during the day, but didn't know where they'd be. Although I knew where we were staying I had no means of getting into the university accommodation that we were using; it was a bank holiday Sunday and the reception would likely be closed. Charlotte needed to leave Penmachno to drive to Pembrokeshire, and all of EFOG's mobiles seemed unavailable. She'd be able to drop me off on route either to meet someone from the group who could help me with my bag or of course at the university. I envisaged me sitting on a wall in a deserted University complex with an immovable rucksack for about three hours, waiting for the Group to return from their day.
I had a text message from Lynne with a University telephone number to call just as we were entering Bangor; my relief explains the number of x's I put at the end of my thanks-you text to her, although she may have wondered what they were for. A few phone calls later and Charlotte was able to leave me safely at the security office from where one of the security officers carried my rucksack up to the kitchen of the block in which we were staying. I was in!
The meal that evening was at a pub, followed by a quiz. It seemed a bit of a younger person's quiz to me, and I felt we didn't do very well. After the quiz we were given bingo tickets to play sit-down bingo. Strangely, this involves standing up until - if a number on your ticket is called - you sit down. First time round I was still standing with only three numbers to be called before being able to sit down. On the second go both Lynne and I - and happening to be next each other - were the only ones left standing! The tie-breaker number was called, and you may guess who I was hoping would win. If you can't guess then you don't know me as well as you may have thought. Number 45 came up... and we were both still standing! They decided to give us both a £5 food voucher so we had to go there again the next night.
I hadn't expected there to be a next night because I thought we were going home on the Monday. Thus I found I had a whole day to spend with the group. A number of us made full use of the lovely sunny day by visiting Bodnant Gardens and as I was able to walk around a bit by then, that was good. Tuesday morning gave us the opportunity of a morning walk either slightly energetically to Penrhyn Castle or incredibly leisurely to Bangor Pier, a lovely Victorian structure at Garth. I enjoyed watching jellyfish off the end of the pier with Duncan, Ann, Fred and Christine. Unexpectedly, all the others joined us having finished their walk and a friendly kiosk was opened up for us to get teas and coffees. Where else can you get tea, coffee or cappuccino all for the same price of £1? It's a good place, Bangor Pier.
I really can't do much of a write-up from the Group's point of view, but I know four of them climbed Snowdon on one of the probably warmest days ever at the summit, and my feeling was that - despite a few people enduring injury-pain from elsewhere and elsewhen - it was a most enjoyable trip.
Thanks to Ken for organising, it and thanks to all those that helped me with my rucksack and in other ways. It wasn't an easy break for me ( luckily it doesn't seem to have been a break at all, maybe just a crack), but nevertheless I enjoyed it and I was pleased that I was able eventually to join up with the others.
I can add mobile phone coverage to my litany which otherwise includes cyclists (on the canal towpaths, anyway), cats (in my garden, anyway) and stiles (the curse of mankind, everywhere.) All of these are usually prefixed by the word Bloody, but I don't know that I should use that on our website.
As for slippery slabs - and this has to be said with a Welsh accent, too - "I was coming to that". (look up Robert Graves ... but it has to be said with a Welsh accent.)
Participants: Ann, Christine, Duncan, Fred, Fozie, Ian G., Jill V., Jinan, Julie, Ken, Lee, Lynne, me. From Friday 23rd to Tuesday 27th August 2013
And this is what I came back to - my proposed cup of tea is beyond the book-fall...
Paul Ferris 29th August 2013
From Pudding Mill Lane to Brick Lane - 8th June 2013
Jinan suggested that I lead a walk in East London, to finish at a Syrian restaurant she'd discovered in Brick Lane. I think she assumed that – my origins being in East London – I'd know this area intimately. Well I don't – apart from teen-age trips to Tubby Isaacs and Blooms around Whitechapel – and a stint as a postman which incorporated delivering to dwellings in Middlesex Street (or Petticoat Lane, as it is known). My knowledge is more of an area south of the Bow Road; the Roman and its surrounds is almost as alien territory to me as is Rome.
Anyway, a few weeks ago Jinan and I had reconnoitred a route I'd devised by looking at a map, starting from a fairly-convenient-to-all Pudding Mill Lane DLR station, and found our way to the said restaurant, so our next step was to offer it to the group.
This proved a slightly more complex operation than most of my walks are, where I either know them or wing them, and both ways usually work out OK in the end, albeit half the time I'm changing my mind part way through anyway. That's not a way that would be recommended to lead a walk, but it works for me and indeed this east London walk proved that my usual way is by far the better way.
So – after quite a bit of correspondence between Jinan and I relating to times and numbers – I arrived at Pudding Mill Lane Station some 25 minutes early and awaited the arrival of others. As the time went on, and no-one had arrived, I began to wonder if I'd got the right day. At about 5 minutes to our allotted departure time I got a call from Jinan saying that just about everybody who said they'd be coming were already enjoying coffee in the View Tube and only Amina was still to turn up.
Amina duly arrived by 10.30, together with an unexpected Ken and Jill, and we walked up to the Greenway to meet the others. The others consisted of a few more people than I'd expected; all of the plans thus far had catered for a known number and a couple of possibles, and thrown into the mix now was a few more with still possibilities to come.
Anyway, twelve of us began the walk by my talking about what could be viewed from near the View Tube. There was the View Tube itself, of course, but I left that out because most of the group had had plenty of time to find out all about it anyway.
The Greenway itself is an important aspect, and it's an interesting fact that we were actually standing over an immense volume of north London's sewage, being transported beneath our feet for conversion at the Beckton Sewage Treatment Works a few miles away. The Northern Outfall Sewer Bank (now re-named The Greenway so as not to offend) was designed by Joseph Bazalgette so that it not only transported the sewage but could act as a promenade and a viewpoint for the deprived people of east London. It performs both those functions today – magnificently – although some of the people of east London are now far from deprived.
Looking west, the Bryant & Mays Match Factory can be seen – originally the production point for a famous brand of match but now dwelling places and studios for less-than-deprived people. The female workers at the factory took part in the famous “Match Girls' Strike” when in 1889 about 1400 women and girls protested against the horrible and dangerous working conditions, and were a major influence in changes to women’s rights.
It was nice and sunny as we follow the Greenway northwards towards Wick Lane, crossing the Lea Navigation at Old Ford Locks and past Percy Dalton's Peanut Factory. Here there are some remnants of the old industrial buildings and factories which were so common in the area before the Olympic site was created. At the end of the Greenway Wick Lane passes under the A12 and a road bridge crosses the Hertford Union Canal with the “Top of the Morning” pub to the right. A plaque on the pub commemorates the first person to be murdered on a train.
We went into Victoria Park, with a short introduction as to how the park was created to provide a valuable “lung” for the people living in a vastly overcrowded area, and headed towards the children's play area, which Julie expressed an interest in visiting. However it was only Jinan that actually rode the giant slide – though I've a feeling that if there hadn't been so many children around at least a few more of us would have done so.
We exited Vicky Park at Gun Maker's Bridge, named after the nearby Gunmakers Arms and Gunmakers Wharf where at one time the London Small Arms Factory was situated. The factory used the Regents Canal to transport components for the Short Magazine Lee-Enfield rifle, which was used during the 1914-1918 war, to Enfield for assembly.
For much of the walk along the towpath of the Hertford Union Canal we were accompanied by a swimming and diving cormorant, who moved on into the Regents Canal at much the same time as we reached the junction of thee two canals. The Hertford Union is only 1.5Km long and had been constructed in 1830 to provide a short cut – alleviating the long route via the Thames – to the Lea Navigation. It was only a short walk southwards along the Regents Canal before we left it to gain Roman Road, which was where Julie left us to continue along the Regents Canal. Although I'd offered a quick tea-break at Victoria Park's cafeteria only 10 minutes earlier, there was quite a bit of muttering at this point about finding a pub – which I was somewhat loathe to do considering that we'd planned a visit to the Museum of Childhood where we could get refreshments anyway, and still had some way to go and things to see on route. The museum – after all – does have a somewhat earlier closing time than the pubs!
The group became further depleted as some elected to go to a pub anyway, so I continued the planned walk looking for Meath Gardens. Unfortunately – in the discussions about the pub – I'd missed the turning and so only reached the gardens at the further end – missing possibly finding a reputed London Plane tree with a plaque commemorating an Aboriginal cricketer called King Cole. His real name Bripumyarrumin, and he died on 24th June 1868 in London, where his team - the Australian Aboriginals – had played that year. They were the first Australian cricket team to play in England. The large gateway entrance to the gardens at that end has the inscription VPC 1895 – the only remaining indications that these gardens were once Victoria Park Cemetery.
We were now walking parallel to Roman Road past a variety of mostly post-war maisonettes and flats, although Morpeth Street School still has vestiges of its Victorian origins attached to some ultra-modern buildings. At Digby Street, glancing towards Roman Road we could see see a former fire station of 1888 which was converted to a Buddhist Centre in 1978.
Shortly we reached Bethnal Green Gardens – sometimes known locally as Barmy Park - passing a library which was built as the male wing of a lunatic asylum in 1896 and adapted as a library in 1922. Just before leaving the gardens by the NW corner is the Stairway to Heaven, a new memorial to the 173 people killed on 3 March 1943 when Bethnal Green tube station was in use as an air-raid shelter. Following a salvo of anti-aircraft rockets someone tripped on the stairs causing many others to fall. It was the worst civilian disaster of WWII. The memorial is very moving, with plaques inset relating people's experiences of the tragedy.
As we were right by the tube station, Peter and Maz decided to leave us there. Just across the road from the memorial is the Georgian church of St. John on Bethnal Green, a grade 1 Listed Building designed by Sir John Soane and built between 1826 and 1828. It is a fine building, but I hadn't planned a visit as the museum was so close. However, people were going in and a notice on the railings caught our attention. I was intrigued that it was written in English and Gaelic – Bangladeshi being more likely around here – and was an invitation to visit an exhibition called 'Tha tim, am fiadh, an Coille Hallaig'. Obviously, that translates to 'Time, the Deer, is in the Wood of Hallaig' – so we went in. Having been invited to have a look around the church itself – worthwhile in its own respect; it is a fine building – we went up into the belfry where there was a lovely exhibition “investigating the properties of forest memories through text, archive and a wood collection”. I'd like to have spent more time there, but the Museum of Childhood was calling, and those five of us still remaining were looking for refreshments!
We had our refreshments in the museum's cafeteria, which was grossly over-priced, but museum-entry is free and the profits presumably go to the running of the museum. The building is a fine one in its own right, and I enjoyed a solitary wander around nostalgia-ising until the get-out bell sounded at closing time.
We had made contact with Jinan, Ian and Paul G., who were spending their time in a nearby pub, so we extricated them from there to continue the last part of the walk to Brick Lane, so now there were eight.
Bethnal Green Road is – to my mind – a busy and not pleasant thoroughfare – but we were able to look at at what had once been Bethnal Green Chapel and subsequently became the United Reform Church, a building of Kentish ragstone that was built 1843-57 to cater for the increasing number of Christian but not Church of England immigrants to the area. Lying just off the main road, Weavers Fields is a larg-ish open space – well used on such a fine afternoon – Proposed as part of the 1943 Abercrombie Plan to rectify the over-crowding and lack of open space of the surrounding population, and eventually coming to fruition since the 1960's by the clearance of 19th century weavers cottages. This was yet another example during our walk where thoughts had been given towards the health and welfare of a very deprived area of London. The name Weavers Fields is a reminder that much of the population at one time would have been Huguenot and Irish weavers spreading eastwards from Spitalfields.
Cheshire Street runs towards Brick Lane parallel with the Liverpool Street railway line, and just off this is Wood Close, at the corner of which is "The Watch House" - a former watchman's house of 1754. This was to enable the watchman to guard against the “resurrection men” - body-snatchers who provided corpses for dissection at local hospitals. The watch house was extended in 1826 to house a fire engine. We lost Ian and Paul again at this point – there are many pubs in the vicinity – but had a quick look at St. Matthew's Church which was one of 50 churches planned in the 18th century to counter the non-conformism!
We were nearly at Brick Lane, and half an hour or so early for our allotted table-booking of 7pm, so we strolled (or manoeuvred) along Brick Lane before going into the “Damascu Bite “ restaurant. Ian and Paul joined us, as did Christine who had been unable to come on the walk, and the Syrian meal made a very pleasant finish to a somewhat confused (for me, at least) but enjoyable walk.
Paul Ferris, 9th June 2013
Carry on Camping - EFOG-style
We don’t often have write-ups about our Thursday night activities but a recent one was such good fun I think it deserves a special mention.
Ian’s “Mystery Night” ‘Carry On Camping’ proved to be a series of activities which had us all taking part in different ways. We exercised our brains with camping-food anagrams and working out mysterious links between clues. We found out which of us were ‘well-prepared’ for any camping activity – from stripping off our shoelaces and socks to providing plasters or maps. We demonstrated camp entertainment skills, identified bugs in bags and practised orienteering blind friends around obstacles to find the loo - above a cacophony of voices. The evening finished with a de-camping packing frenzy. Preparing for Rodings, perhaps?Lots of laughs and craziness – a typical EFOG night. It must have taken you hours to prepare, Ian. Many thanks to you and your lovely helpers – Louise and Madeleine. I for one am still buzzing!
Pam, 27th May 2013
To Berwick and Beyond - 10th-13th May
EFOG's trip to Berwick-upon-Tweed, organised by Ken and participated in by ten others, began – for me – with a long walk.
This wasn't the walk from my house to Manor Park Station – which simply seems longer if I have more luggage or am pressed to catch a train – but the walk from the Circle Line platform at Kings Cross/St Pancras underground station to Kings Cross main line station. You used to go up stairs to the booking hall, up another flight of stairs to the street, then into the station. Now you are directed down many miles of wide pedestrian tunnels and up escalators until you are deposited in what I found to be an unknown area of the station that never existed when I used to collect train numbers.
Fred was there already, recovering from the walk, and we were joined by Ken and the others bit by bit until boarding the train. Some were evidently suffering from the route march, but I suspected that we might recover for the weekend.
It's a fairly enjoyable train-ride on the East Coast Railway Line, and Berwick-upon-Tweed appeared to us after a few hours - viewed first from the magnificent Tweed railway viaduct.
That first evening we did an exploratory walk across the town and around part of the town walls – delighting in the extra hours of daylight afforded by being that much further north at this time of year. It was late, so the town was quiet, and we wandered into a churchyard with what seemed to me – though I said nought – to be a very odd church. It was only as we exited the gate that I saw that the church was very special, having been built in in the Cromwellian period of British History. Very few churches were built in this period; one other that I know of – rather surprisingly – is in Poplar High Street!
Possibly irritating people by going on about St. Cuthbert's Duck, I at least glimpsed one as we crossed the causeway, and a few others from the isle itself. We visited the ruins of the priory, and then made our way to the castle, passing some boats that had been converted into sheds. I've been to Iona, and Holy Island always feels to me like the second in the trinity of which St. Peter's at Bradwell is the third. Look up the history, if you are unfamiliar. Separating from the others – because sometimes a place like this needs feeling – I made my way to the smaller isel of Hobthrush, otherwise called St. Cuthbert's Island – which for a while was itself accessible by a way of many mussels because of the low tide.
Back in Berwick we paid a return visit to the Cromwellian Parish Church, and this time were able to go inside. Being Cromwellian, it is mostly plain, although the Victorians had added stained-glass windows. However, the very simplicity appealed to me. I was asked by the church-warden whether we'd be attending the service on the morrow, but I politely replied that I was the wrong person to ask (!) He was a lovely chap, and delighted in showing us round – including upstairs – and revealing an absolute wonder, the original simple-but-solid table-altar, hidden beneath a simple covering, to one side of the lectern.
The following day was our last, and prior to leaving we did a last walk around part of the town walls. The wind was powerful, and part way I received an expected 'phone call from my friend Jenny who had travelled up to Northumberland by car with her husband the previous day. I had to take a hurried leaving from the Group, to get back to the hostel where they were waiting to collect me for the beyond part of my trip – heading for the far north-west of Scotland. If you're interested read on –
Beyond Berwick
Berwick is not quite in Scotland, although it has been and its football team is. It's weird really, being on the wrong side of the Tweed and that.
Jenny, Garry and myself crossed the border shortly, with myself having the comfort of no thoughts of needing to drive and the back seat to (perhaps unfortunately?) myself and my luggage.
We sighted Bass Rock as we travelled the A1 towards Edinburgh and the Forth Road Bridge – the rock white even from that distance with thousands of Gannets. After Pitlochry we stopped at the Pass of Killecrankie - which I'd visited with EFOG a few years ago - had a snack and visited the visitor centre, enjoying the views of the feeding Siskins and nesting Coal Tits, and enduring the incessant rendering of “Bonnie Dundee”. We omitted to do a bungee jump, as we needed to press on.
We soon got used to all of this of course, and the view from the living room/lounge window was wonderful, looking out over Badachro Bay and through to Gairloch Bay. Otters came into the bay frequently, and we were able to see them by getting up early and going down to the harbour.
Our whale-watching trip was on a four-hour trip to the Shiant Isles, which I've always wanted to see. These three small islands and some rocks are 30 miles out from Gairloch, beyond the north tip of Skye and about 5 miles from Lewis. They are mystical Islands, and my outlook should strictly prohibit visiting them by means of a twin-diesel powered RHIB. However, I've some elements of pragmatism built into my psyche, so a power-run across a somewhat choppy Minch was well worthwhile, including even having to turn back first time because of the swell.
The coast in the vicinity of Gairloch - and indeed for much of the North-West Highlands - is magnificent, with great and small cliffs, machair, white sand beaches and wonderful mountains - Quinag, Stac Pollaidh. Suilven, An Teallach (which is also a good beer), and of course a number of Bens, Beinns or Cul Beags and Mors.
I still didn't manage to climb Stac Pollaidh or anything else of note - and we didn't even get up to Balnakiel Bay, a place to which I've a longing to return, but we left Badchro on the Saturday and journeyed south to Whitehaven in Cumbria for a few days, then rented a pine log cabin near Grange-over-Sands for a few more days before returning home.
Hence: Berwick and Beyond.
Paul Ferris, 29th May 2013
Epping Evening Walk - 25th May 2013
Peter's now-annual evening walk from Epping Station took place this year on Sunday 25th May.
The morning had continued somewhat cold – as so much of May seems to have been – but by the afternoon had warmed up enough that some of us were happy to walk with jackets removed.
Twelve of us left Epping Station at a little after 6pm – those who arrived earlier being treated (if treat it was to some) to the nostalgic sight of a Green Line RT bus, collecting passengers from the train and conveying them to Ongar.
There were – it should be said – also two dogs with us on the walk: Maz and Peter's faithful and familiar Katie and – familiar to me, at least – my friend's dog Alfie. Whereas the humans were happy to talk to each other – and some to the dogs too – the two canines ignored each other totally.
The walk took a now familiar route which takes in a variety of West Essex countryside, from rolling grassed field edged with hedges and trees, through ancient pollarded hornbeam woods, past farm buildings and down green lanes. The latter – some of which constitute parts of the Essex Way – were perhaps the most uncomfortable to travel, as sections were well-muddied, rutted and brambled. Such conditions also give rise to mosquitoes, so I at least found myself with some bites later that evening. However the open areas – which were most plentiful – gave us sometimes long views out towards Havering Country Park with its redwood trees sky-lining, and Bedfords Park with its gleaming white water tower. At one point, whilst a buzzard circled over a nearby wood, the downs of north Kent could be seen on the far horizon.
Maz left with Katie after a few miles as Katie was feeling the pressure; she's getting old. Alfie however just walked on, dismissing with disgust offered water. He usually tends to view water other than at home (or at the sea!) as rubbish.
Reaching the Forest Gate pub at Ivy Chimneys – where Maz and Katie joined us again – we met Ian, who'd driven there, and we settled down at the tables outside with various drinks and foodstuffs. It was now nearing 9pm, and the clear sky was aiding the evening chill, and discarded coats were put on. After the warmth of the walk, the chill actually led to some of us feeling distinctly cold, so offers by Maz and Ian of lifts back to Epping station for those who wanted were gladly accepted. A few walked back, adding an extra mile to the 5 mile walk.
I too had an extra mile added to the walk, as I had to return Alfie to his home in Debden. It is possible that I was more tired than he was.
Thanks top Peter for organising and leading the walk.
Paul Ferris, 26 May 2013