Six word Saturday

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What a strange world this is!

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One week you’re in Edinburgh, meeting a blogger from Cornwall, the next, admiring the beauty of Roseberry Topping on the North York Moors, with a blogger all the way from Australia.  When Carol (that’s The Eternal Traveller to you) suggested a stop off on my local patch during her whistle stop tour of England… well, it would have been churlish not to offer the lady a cuppa and a view, wouldn’t it?

Great Ayton seemed the perfect venue for someone interested in Captain Cook, as he spent much of his childhood there.  Carol had already been to Whitby, where he served his seaman’s apprenticeship, but Cook was born locally and lived in a farmhouse in Great Ayton.  It isn’t possible to visit Cook’s Cottage as it was moved to Melbourne in 1934, and reassembled there brick by brick.  Cook received 5 years of paid education in this village and the Captain Cook Schoolroom Museum tells the story of his early life.

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Cook was also known to have loved Roseberry Topping but, as this is a bit of a steep climb, we opted instead to hike up Easby Moor to visit the Monument to him, constructed in 1827.  The views are sweeping, across to the Topping and down on Great Ayton itself.

Of course, I needed sustenance, in the form of a very crumbly scone, but Justin Beaver didn’t seem to mind my table manners too much.

Thanks to Carol and her lovely family for keeping us company.  Wishing them a safe and happy onward journey.

It’s Saturday again and almost sunny.  I hope that wherever you are the weekend is kind to you.  I will be back on Monday for one more walk before I head south for a two week break.  Take care till then!

P.S.  ‘Strictly’ starts again this weekend and I can’t help but remember my good friend Viv, who loved it so.  And please don’t forget your six words!

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Clandestine- Cloak and dagger in Holyrood Palace

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Few places are more redolent of Scottish history than Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh, the principal residence of the kings and queens of Scotland since the 16th century.  On a mist-shrouded day I approach the Royal Arms of Scotland over the gateway.  I know that the cloisters within are as far as my camera can take me, yet somehow I don’t mind.

Audio clasped to my ear, I gaze around me.  Aged tapestries clothe wood-paneled walls, the furniture worn but sumptuous.  Not hard at all to picture Bonnie Prince Charlie in this setting.  The ancient floors creak and give under modern shoes.  In the endless Great Gallery I sink onto a stool to absorb the weight of majestic paintings, commissioned by Charles II.

Through the King’s Ante-Chamber, his Bedchamber and Closet I have crept reverently, but the spell of this house is all bound up in the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots.  Arch rival to Elizabeth I, her life was surrounded by intrigue and plots.  You can almost feel the anguish as you mount the stairs to her chambers at the top of the palace.  Held prisoner here, her embroidery box sits poignantly on a table, with the bible she used for her devotions.  Mary occupied these rooms from 1561 to 1567, and it was here that she witnessed the brutal murder of her secretary, David Rizzio. Married to Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, at Holyrood in 1565, the following year Darnley was among those wielding a knife when Rizzio was stabbed 56 times.  ‘Cloak and dagger, furtive, covert, stealthy, concealed’- all are contained in the definition of Clandestine.

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The life of the Palace began much earlier, in 1128, when an Augustinian abbey was founded at the order of King David I of Scotland. The Holy Rood, or Black Rood, was a relic of the True Cross of Christ which had belonged to David’s mother, Queen Margaret.  The abbey guesthouse was used for royal visits, until construction of a palace began in 1501.  Whereas the palace has grown and endured over time, the Abbey was reduced to a ruin in 1544, when Holyrood was looted and burned.  Full restoration was never undertaken but the ruins are hauntingly beautiful.

I gazed out, through the grills, to the park where a captive Mary once practised her archery.  Today the monarch spends one week a year in residence at Holyrood Palace. How times have changed!  You can view some of the history here.

I have made only a very tenuous link to today’s Thursday’s Special.   As I explained to Paula, Traces of the Past might make a better home.  But I’m the impatient type and can’t wait until 6th October for the next edition.

Have a look at what Paula makes of Clandestine.

 

Jo’s Monday walk : Water of Leith, Edinburgh

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I do find Edinburgh an entrancing city, and one that has so many aspects!  I hopped off the train at Waverley Station into dire Scots weather, determined to make the most of my two days.  Holyrood Palace was on my list, and I reveled in all of its history.  A proposed hike up Arthur’s Seat was doomed by the veil of mist, but I still had another card up my sleeve.  There’s something mysterious sounding about the Water of Leith, and I was all set to unravel the mystery.

“A silver thread in a ribbon of green”.  How inviting that sounds.  The Water of Leith Walkway extends for 12 and a half miles, the river rising in the Pentland Hills, and flowing out to sea at the Port of Leith.  I intended to walk only part of its length, as my accommodation was close to an access point at Dean Bridge.  Designed by Thomas Telford and built in 1832, the bridge loftily spans a gorge, en route for South Queensferry.  I could see the pathway, winding beneath the bridge, but no obvious way down there, as private gardens border the river.  I had to backtrack, down through Dean Village, only to find that section closed due to subsidence.

Dean Village is the site of Lindsay’s Mill, one of eleven water-powered mills that rumbled through this valley in the 17th century.  The weir held back the flow of water to drive the mills.  Nowadays the area has been converted to smart modern homes but reminders of the past are everywhere, if you look.  Bell’s Brae was a granary, built in 1675.  I left the dog having his splash in the water and climbed back up to the bridge.  When a nice old gentleman pointed me in the direction of Stockbridge, I set off to rejoin the walkway.

I love the feeling of being in the countryside, in the middle of the city, and it wasn’t long before I’d edged away from smart Stockbridge and its stylish waterside homes.  Arboretum Avenue hints strongly at the Botanic Gardens, not too far away.   The path dodges and weaves from one river bank to another, and I’m pleased to spot a reassuring sign.  Still on track!

There are bridges aplenty and I’m rather glad I’d printed off details of the walk, or I’d never be sure when to cross over.  The terraced houses are the Stockbridge Colonies, originally built by a cooperative to provide low cost housing for mill workers. At Canonmills I again leave the river, to cross a busy street and yet another bridge.  My attention is caught by a young man, whose eyes are fixed on the river.  Following his gaze I’m thrilled to see a large heron, unperturbed by the presence of humans.

Flood gates control this stretch of river, a warning that things are not always so tranquil. Ducks peck and glide.  A parkland opens up before me and, around the corner, a lovely surprise.  A fast flowing weir is home to a pair of swans who preen for my delectation.

Ahead lies a quirky section,  where I pass through an industrial estate with a sense of humour.  I know that I’m not too far from Leith, where I hope to relax and enjoy the evening sunshine.  This walk has been full of surprises.

Just one last bridge to go and I’ve reached the Shore of Leith.  A place full of history, it started life as a medieval settlement and merged with the city of Edinburgh in 1920.  The port is still a commercial enterprise but old Leith has a wealth of charm.

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In the quiet of late afternoon I read the displays telling me that Leith was once bustling with activity as tall masted ships unloaded their cargoes. Fish, coal, grain and hides were exported to northern Europe and the Med, in return for wine, fruit, spices and cloth.  As ships grew too large for this shallow river mouth, the harbour was moved north.  New life has been breathed into old bones and the result is a pleasing melange.

Let’s sit a while with Sandy, with his gently smiling face, before we take a closer look at the Royal Navy War Memorial.  The details are on a display board in the square facing the water.  Calm reigns supreme under Sandy’s benign gaze.

So many facts, I can’t begin to reproduce them all, but if you delve into this Wikipedia link I’m sure you’ll find something of interest.  I didn’t have time to walk as far as the Royal Yacht Britannia, the Queen’s former floating home, now docked at Ocean Terminal. Reason to come back one day?

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A fascinating place, I think you’ll agree?  I didn’t intend for this post to be so long, so my apologies if I don’t offer you haggis, neeps and tatties. Just take my word for it- they were delicious.  Kettle on time, at last!

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Thank you so much for your indulgence and your generous support.  Again I have some wonderful walks to share and it’s all thanks to you.  If you’d like to join in at all, details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page, or click on my logo above.  You’ll be very welcome.

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Always charming, often funny and never boring.  It has to be Drake, doesn’t it?

Speedy walk on water

I’ll never be able to produce jaw-dropping photography like Cardinal’s, but I can admire :

A Walk Through Praha- Part 2

I cannot resist sharing Meg.  She finds such pleasure in the small things in life :

Walking Warsaw with a friend

And rather more seriously, some Polish history :

A walking tour of Jewish Warsaw

BiTi’s here again, with some great photos.  Shame I’m no cook!

Ballymaloe Cooking School Gardens

Remember Smidge?  I stepped back into her territory last week so I thought I’d give her a shout :

I heart North Berwick

And for those of you who don’t know, lucky Sue lives on Samos in Greece :

The house with the pink shutters- The Potter, Samos Island

You know that game, ‘Where’s Wally?’  I’m playing ‘Where’s Susan?’ :

Walking Oslo, Norway

Kathrin takes us down Memory Lane to an area of Cologne in Germany :

My weekly ramble

Delighted to welcome Amanda to my walks.  Make sure you don’t miss this one!

Hanging Around in Helsinki – Part  II

That’s it for another week!  Perhaps now is a good time to tell you that I have one more walk for you next week and then I’ll be taking a 2 week break in the Algarve.  Poor me!  If you’d like to join me next week get those walks in soon.  Have a happy one!

Six word Saturday

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Didn’t we have a lovely time….

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…the day we went to Edinburgh.

Sing along!

I’ve tried to give you a feel for our day together but it can’t show the laughter and the smiles.  We saw the castle, from afar, wandered a bit, found the National Museum of Scotland, and even had time for a trip to the Botanic Gardens.  Jude is quite a private person and refused to sit on that bench for a photo, but we agreed it was a splendid bench.  I pinched a discreet shot and I hope she’ll forgive me.

We found the roof terrace of Harvey Nicholls for a celebratory cocktail (thanks, Debs!), moseyed around the corner to an Apothecary Garden that Jude will tell you all about, and ended with a meal in the mezzanine restaurant of the Guildford Arms.  Then somebody blew the whistle and we had to scurry along the platform of Waverley Station.  Last swift hugs, and it was over!

Jude is still there, enjoying the sunshine, but I expect you’ll hear more when she returns from the Borders next weekend.  I’ve still got the swollen hoof so no zumba today, but I did enjoy the reminiscing.  Don’t suppose you’ll be surprised that it’s an Edinburgh walk next Monday.  Have a great weekend and I’ll see you then.  Six words?

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Before and after

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I love this shot.  It was a balmy day earlier this month, on the beach at Seaton Carew.  Who’s in charge- man or dog?  I’m not entirely sure that I wanted to convert it to black and white.  But then, I usually feel like that about photos.  What do you think?

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I don’t usually do the Black and White Sunday challenge, but Paula made this one so easy, even I could join in.   Backwards, of course.

I’m posting this just before I disappear off to Edinburgh for a day or two, so apologies if I’m slow with responses.  I’ll be back on Saturday.

Jo’s Monday walk : Rosedale, sheep and heather

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The North York Moors are all about the sheep!  They have a very important role to play in managing these moors.  In late summer, plum and purple swathes of heather swaddle the moorland.  Cocooned in this bounty, red grouse nest, feeding their young on juicy shoots of heather.  For centuries sheep grazing has been the traditional way of keeping the heather short and encouraging new growth. Without the heather, highly invasive bracken would take over, destroying the habitat.

I love the wildness of the Moors and can’t get enough of them in their rose-hued mantle. The weather up there has a mind of its own, and I was a little disappointed to leave sunshine at home and descend into Rosedale in gloom.  Nothing for it but to hope that the rain kept off.

The calves were feeling frisky, the field of sweetcorn swayed in the breeze, and at the camp site someone had the kettle ready.  As luck would have it, the wind eventually swept away the clouds, but you can never be quite sure.

The walk starts beside Sycamore Farm, just before the village of Rosedale Abbey.  A track leads downhill and over a stream.  Crossing a field, Blakey Ridge looms ahead.  Don’t worry!  I don’t expect you to climb to the heights.  Instead, turn right to follow a lane through the tiny hamlet of Thorgill.

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Suddenly the sun peeps out, and what could be more tempting than this flight of steps?  My husband shakes his head.  The sign says Farndale, and that means up and over the top.  I can’t resist just a quick look at the tumble of cottages.  And a plum tree, alone in a field.

Over the top?  Maybe another day.  For now it’s gently upwards through Rosedale’s peaceful valley.  And look how blue the sky has become!

Looking over the drystone wall, I spotted some Rosebay Willowherb.  A fancy name for a wildflower.  You probably don’t remember but there was a big clump of it in my last walk. Badfish asked me jokingly if you could smoke it.  His latest post reveals a much more serious side. Don’t miss it!

Such a rural landscape and yet there are still traces of an industrial past.  If you look into the distance you can see the dramatic remains of the East Mines, and the colour of the water in the River Seven might give you a clue what was mined there.

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Rosedale East Mines opened in 1865.  Visible today are the remains of the calcining kilns, where ironstone was roasted to eliminate impurities and reduce its weight.  The iron ore was taken by rail from Rosedale over the moorland to Ingleby, where it was lowered down the northern edge of the moors by tramway on the 1-in-5 gradient Ingleby Incline.  It would have been anything but peaceful as up to 15 wagons at a time were steam hauled around the top of the valley.

It was brutally hard work in the mines.  It has been described as a ‘regular slaughter place’ where ‘both men and horses are getting killed and lamed every day’.  Despite this the mines continued in operation until the General Strike of 1926.

These days the silence is only broken by birdsong, cows lowing and the occasional growl of a tractor.  The farm with an idyllic view had a runaway mother hen as I passed by.  She clucked anxiously back and forth, trying to chivvy her offspring back through the fence.  I watched at a discreet distance till I was sure all were safe, before heading past the former miner’s cottages and back to my start point.

The village of Rosedale Abbey is barely a mile down the road.  It was named for a Cistercian Priory, founded in 1158, of which only a fragment remains today.  The main attraction is the village green, and a choice of two cafes or a pub.  I can highly recommend Graze on the Green.  One of the best scones I’ve ever eaten. (and you know I’ve had my share!)

Nutrition accomplished, it’s time to go and seek out some of that glorious heather.  The road back across the moors dips and twirls, offering up breathtaking views as you crest Blakey Ridge.   ‘Pull in, pull in!’ I admonished the partner, careless of what might be behind us on the narrow road.

Some of you know what happens next.  The edges of the moors road have a little ditch where the rain drains off.  Out I leapt and straight into a ditch, with a sickening jar to my ankle.  Why do these things happen to me?  Careless, that’s why!  It was some minutes before I could take the desired photos, but here they are.  The sheep never even blinked.

I’m still a bit of a hop-along but I’m getting there.  So glad you could join me.  The Rosedale Abbey website offers a wealth of helpful details, and I even noted a ‘Tea Shop walk’.  Sound promising?

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Huge thanks to everybody for offering up your walks to share, and for ambling along on mine.  I love your company.  If you’d like to join me, details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page.  Just click on the logo.  Settle in now for a good read!

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Inspiration must surely be Drake’s middle name :

Whence inspiration arises

Food, fun and frolics in Canada, with Jackie :

Let’s Go to The EX!

If you’re still hungry, head on over to Violet’s place :

Ribfest

Nothing I like more than a touch of Capability Brown!  And fuzzy sheep!  Thanks, Elaine :

Charlecote Park

A lovely old house and a sculpture trail sounds good to me.  BiTi will show you round :

Ballymaloe House- Part 1 

A Yorkshireman in NZ has found a place that looks like home.  Please go and say hi?

Pineapple Track, Dunedin

My favourite early riser takes us for a twirl by the Wisła.  Thanks, Meg.  You’re always a joy to accompany :

Vignettes from a morning walk, 8

Random, but comprehensive!  That’s Prague through Cardinal’s lens :

A Walk Through Praha

From Italy next I’d like to introduce Discovermarche, with a fun walk :

Li Vurgacci : among waterfalls and rock monsters 

And if you’ve always wondered about the German capital, take a trip with Kathrin :

Berlin, I love you!

That’s it for another week.  I’m hoping to post on Thursday but I might be a bit slow with my comments.  I’ll be in Edinburgh, waiting to meet up with the delectable Jude.  Take care till then!

 

 

 

Six word Saturday

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One more shout for Capability Brown

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I don’t suppose too many of you have heard of Temple Newsam.  This Tudor-Jacobean house, on the eastern edge of Leeds, was the birth place of Lord Henry Darnley, the notorious husband of Mary Queen of Scots.  The 1500 acre country park has grounds beautifully landscaped by Capability Brown. Currently managed by Leeds City Council and open to the public, it’s a fine breath of fresh air in the city.

A wedding was taking place whilst I was there, but the grounds were free to roam.  There’s a Home Farm and playground for the youngsters, and a lake with perfect ‘Pooh sticks’ bridge.  A rhododendron walk and extensive walled garden suits us mature folks.

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I was greatly smitten with the conservatory.  Long and thin, it’s a maze inside, full of enticing plants, including the National Collection of Coleus.

I’m dedicating my gallery of leaves to Verena.  Though it’s not quite what she intended, the Autumn challenge, Festival of Leaves, has begun again and you might just want to join in.  Pop over and say ‘hi’.

The above gallery is for Jude, who’s gallivanting around the country and not here to defend herself.  Tee hee!  I love it!

And who can resist bougainvillea?  The stables and courtyard have been converted to tea rooms, of course, and there’s a restaurant in the walled garden.  What more do you need?

To mark the 300 years anniversary of Capability Brown, an exhibition explores the landscape of Temple Newsam through time.  This link includes a rather fine video.  And then it’s time to find six words for Cate.

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