You’ll never guess what I found?
Santa’s helpers? They have a lot of eating to do if they’re going to pull that sleigh.
Hope your Christmas preparations are going well. Describe them in six words?
Six word Saturday
England
Jo’s Monday walk : A crisp day at Stockton Riverside
Subtitled, a bevy of swans. Recovering from a back problem, I needed a gentle, level walk. The Riverside, at nearby Stockton-on-Tees, seemed a likely candidate. The sun was bright in the sky but the temperature skimming zero, so strolling really wasn’t an option. Semi-briskly, let’s go!
It’s surprising the variety you can find within a short distance along this river bank. A replica of ‘The Endeavour’, a glut of bridges and an impressive whiteness of swans. Today, rivaled by the whiteness of frost on decaying timbers.
As an extra treat, the Teesside Princess comes chugging towards us from her dock on the quayside. Party time upstream, maybe?
Aren’t they lovely creatures? I don’t know when I ever saw so many, even in a nature reserve, and this is anything but. I did wonder if the local council arranged for them to be fed. We’re now at the back of Stockton High Street and approaching a retail park, so it’s a good time to cross over the Victoria Bridge to the opposite bank of the Tees.
The path continues alongside newish flats, and a spattering of call centres. Not a bad working environment, and there are benches for a lunchtime sandwich. Even in thick tights, you’d think twice today. Look out for the glimmer of ice on the water as we follow the man-made canals.
Passing below the Millenium Bridge, the footpath weaves around the canals in a slightly frustrating manner. Ahead and around the next bend awaits the showstopper bridge, her graceful arcs skimming the blue.
Intriguingly there are goalposts suspended above the water. Evidence of summer excitement! The university buildings back onto this stretch, and the youngsters will row and kayak with enthusiasm. More sedately, I’m content just to admire the slender lines before me.
A grand finale, isn’t she? Crossing over the Infinity Bridge and I gaze skywards, spellbound as ever by her beauty.
The riverside path leads back to our beginning. You can pop through to the High Street if you’re needing sustenance, and you might catch Locomotion no 1 in action. Here’s a little bit of bridge history for those who are interested.
Apologies for taking you back to familiar territory, but I know you love a bright walk and this was such a lovely, albeit nippy, day. I still have some walks to share from earlier in the year and it’s a perpetual dilemma which to choose. Perhaps I’ll have to let a little cloud in next week. Grab that cuppa, won’t you, and we’ll settle in for a read.
Thanks all you lovely people. I so look forward to your company on Mondays. I have some of the most fabulous shares again this week. Feel free to join me anytime. You’ll always be welcome. Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page. Just click on the logo above.
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Lady Lee has been making me envious again. Such a nice place to have family!
If you’re a fan of ‘dressing up’ you’ll like Jackie’s post, with a nice dollop of history :
Jude takes me back to a place where I have fond memories of duck pate sandwiches, Guinness and rain!
While Sherri took me back to the sunshine of my halcyon Lake Garda days :
An Italian Journey : Writing and Healing
A good ramble and a yarn from Tish Farrell always brings a huge smile to my face :
Rambling Yesterday On Wenlock Edge ~ “The Holly and the Power Station”
A smile and a song! Those are Drake’s specialities too :
Or you can have a little birdsong with your stroll, over at Denzil’s place :
Biti can show you lots of Rome’s splendour :
And poor Carol has a dilemma on her hands on the rugged south coast of England :
They’re brilliant, aren’t they? I have a crispy pink and white sunrise dawning outside my window. Soon be time to get walking. Take good care and I’ll see you all next week!
Six word Saturday
Pie and mash and a pier
Relaxing comes in all shapes and sizes. A bath, a book and a glass of wine is one of mine. But I do have a weakness for a magnificent landscape, and any time that someone else is doing the cooking, that’s relaxation for me.
Strolling down the pier at Saltburn-by-the-Sea, how is it possible to have a care in the world? The shoreline is inexplicably festooned in seaweed, and in the shops swathes of tinsel drape the trees. Cocooned in the warm, the simple pleasures of pie and mash will do me just fine.
You want to join in? It’s Six Word Saturday and time to simply Relax.
Jo’s Monday walk : Flamboyant Autumn at Easby Abbey
Today’s walk is the reverse of one I took you on a couple of years ago. Remember the story of the little Drummer Boy? It really hadn’t been my intention to walk to Easby Abbey, but as the sun burst forth over the Autumn foliage I couldn’t imagine a finer place to be. Such a contrast with the creeping mist that enshrouded me last time.
This walk starts from The Station at Richmond, now a fine exhibition space with a rather nice eatery, ‘Seasons’. Have I been neglecting your stomachs lately? I know there has been a dearth of cream scones on here, but maybe you can make up for it later. Incentive to get you walking! From the rear of The Station a trail signed for Easby Abbey leads off into the woods.
The gurgle of water accompanies your footsteps, as you are walking above the fast flowing River Swale. Glimpses of it flaunt themselves through gaps in the trees, along with the wider view to the countryside beyond. Soon you come to a bridge. This morning it is rhymed with frost so tread a little carefully. Recent rain has ensured the boisterous nature of the water.
Once over the bridge the trail bends to the left and you are following the river more closely. My heart always goes pitter pat at the sight and sound of rushing water. Autumn finery weaves it’s own spell.
Bathed in sunlight, you can make out a grand looking residence through the trees, and soon you are in sight of the Abbey. The gatehouse stands silently, beyond a field where grazing horses sport their winter garb. The woolly sheep don’t seem to feel the same need.
Pastoral England at it’s finest, isn’t it? Let’s slip through the metal gate into the churchyard. The hamlet of Easby dates back to the Domesday survey of 1086, and the parish church of St. Agatha predates the Abbey. It also provides a wonderful vantage point over the Abbey ruins.
Easby Abbey was founded in about 1152, by Roald, a constable of Richmond in North Yorkshire. It was established as a Premonstratension monastery, whose origin came from Premontre in France. Most monks follow the 6th century Rule of St. Benedict, renouncing the world for a life of contemplation. The Easby monks followed the older rule of St. Augustine, meaning they served the community by preaching, teaching and charitable work, and could become parish priests. They lived communally but did not take monastic vows. They were ordained as canons (or priests), with the authority to celebrate mass and administer sacraments.
From the earliest times, sheep farming seems to have been a mainstay of Abbey life. Roald’s descendants continued to hold the constableship of Richmond and its lands throughout the 12th and 13th centuries. They were variously known as de Burton or de Richmond. By the 14th century the estates had been sold to the Scrope family, knights based at Bolton in neighbouring Wensleydale. The Scropes made Easby their burial place and the chancel of the Abbey church was lengthened. Prosperity seems to have continued until the suppression of the monasteries in 1536. Richmond defended its monks, but in retribution Henry VIII wrote that “St. Agatha and such other places as have made resistance… shall without pity or circumstance… be tied up (hanged) without further delay”. Destruction followed, but the remaining ruins are hauntingly beautiful.
Turning up the lane, another grandiloquent property looks down on you. I imagine much doffing of caps went on at St. Agatha’s House.
The field drops down towards the river again, and this time I find I can get really close. Leaf strewn steps lead down almost to the water’s edge and I am awash in Autumn’s tumultuous hues. Knotty tree roots protrude and I have to mind my step, but it’s like being in an enchanted forest.
Always before I have taken the higher route. My reward, a glimpse of a modern day Hansel and Gretel cottage, nestled in the woods.
The path meets the higher route at the Drummer Boy stone, and soon you can see distant Richmond Castle through the trees. Water trickles and drips down the mossy stone. It feels almost primeval.
Back at The Station, pause for refreshments, or carry on, as I do. I can never resist the lure of the falls, and there’s a bonus. Look who I found!
The tumult of the falls is breathtaking. As I walk back towards The Station, another little guy is watching me from the safety of a branch.
I hope you enjoyed sharing these last moments of Autumn. English Heritage provide a comprehensive history of the Abbey on their website, plus details of how to get there. I’d rather like to share this walk with Jude too. Her November theme for the Garden Challenge is Trees, and I think I’ve managed to find one or two. Let’s put the kettle on and settle in for a read now, shall we?
Huge thanks to all of you for the support I receive on here. Yet again I have a wonderful selection of walks to share. Please visit as many as you can. And if you happen to have a walk you’d like to share, well, what are you waiting for? Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page, or you can click on the logo above.
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I have so many Gaudi favourites! How about you? Lady Lee showcases this one beautifully :
Woolly’s strolling from the shopping centre this week :
Jo’s-Monday-Walk- Barwon Heads
Jude tries her hand at landscapes in Constable country, and makes a lovely job of it :
Walking in an artist’s footsteps
Kingston, Jamaica it’s not, but Stephanie makes her current home look very appealing :
A Walk through Downtown Kingston, WA
Jackie, meanwhile, is on the trail of more history in Virginia :
October 2016- Williamsburg, VA
While Liesbet explores California, with a very cute canine friend :
Yvette is never shy about sharing her views, but she shares a lot of love too :
Our Lady of Victory Basilica Lackawanna, NY
Another of those dreams I haven’t yet made come true. Thanks, BiTi!
Much more intimate, but no less delightful, Drake’s childhood home :
Stamina or coffee! Which do I need to walk in Badfish’s footsteps? Don’t miss it!
One long road to Bratislava : Part II
I’m considering myself invited to the south coast so I can do this walk with Gilly. Any offers?
And finally, anyone up for a little skateboarding? Or you can just stroll, with Kathrin :
Skateboarding in Huntingdon Beach
Fantastic, aren’t they? That’s it for Autumn posts from me. Not sure where I’ll take you next week, but I hope you can come along. In the meantime, have a great week, and to all my US friends, Happy Thanksgiving!
Six Word Saturday
Is it hug a tree week?
I always feel a little sorry for trees at this time of year. All summer long they share luxuriant green shade. Come the Autumn they dazzle and glow, radiating joy. Then, slowly, one by one, their leaves drift away. Frail and naked, they are left to shiver forlornly, and tremble in the breeze.
But there’s still a little colour around, so let’s enjoy it while we can. To quote Verena, it’s a Festival of Leaves, isn’t it?
Jude is embracing Trees this November. Why not join her Garden Challenge? I’m off out to set those leaves whirling one more time. Have a great weekend, and don’t forget to share six words, will you?
Remember ‘Tommy’?
There have been so many moving tributes to the fallen heroes of the Battle of the Somme in its 100th anniversary year. In Seaham yesterday I witnessed another. Hundreds of pebbles have been collected from the local beach, hand painted red, and arranged in a poppy around ‘Tommy’. This emotive metal sculpture was designed by Ray Lonsdale and unveiled in 2014.
‘Paint it Red’ was the idea of David McKenna, a former soldier who has served in Northern Ireland, Bosnia and Kosovo with the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers. Six years ago he founded a local community group, Seaham Remembers Them. Cadets and veterans alike were involved in this project, which took 2 months to complete.
Afterwards I strolled on the beach, crunching through the pebbles with their weird and wonderful shapes, and feeling very lucky to be alive.
This article in the local press covers the event. You might remember a Monday walk I did when Tommy first arrived in Seaham.
Jo’s Monday walk : Aydon Castle
I still have a sackful of balmy, Algarve images to post but, here in England, the Autumn colour is fading fast. I thought I’d share this walk to Aydon Castle before the leaves have all departed. Though it’s just over the border into Northumberland, I’d never heard of this 13th century, fortified manor house until a couple of weeks ago.
I know lovely honey coloured Corbridge, where my walk starts, quite well. It’s riverside walks often tempt me. This is Roman Wall territory and there are any number of sites you can visit to delve back in time. Today though, I’m after a good tramp in the outdoors. No, don’t ask ‘which one?’
The walk starts from the free car park, just over the bridge, where you will also find a helpful map and suggestions for other trails in the neighbourhood. Cross over the bridge and head gently up through the town, bearing to the right.
Corbridge is a very genteel and affluent looking place. Not easy to imagine the Scottish border raids that once were a regular feature of this area. Livestock were often brought in from the fields at night, and a watch placed at each end of town to protect them from marauders. Way before that, Corbridge was the most northerly town in the Roman Empire.
Keep a watch for a signpost off to the left. Aydon Castle is one and a half miles from this point, initially following a narrow lane and then a footpath beside a lovely old stone wall. It’s a bit of a surprise to find yourself walking next to the noisy A69 but, once you cross the road bridge over this busy highway, you are again enfolded in English countryside. Did you notice the kilns off across the fields? It was my intention to circle around to see them on the return leg, but that didn’t quite happen.
The sheep are quietly contemplative, their fleece crisply white against the shimmering autumn foliage. Ahead, the trail drops down into the woods and weaves in and out of dappled shade. It’s a bit of a climb up towards the Castle.
Suddenly the solid walls are right there in front of you. Robert de Reymes, a wealthy merchant, built a manor house here, beside the Cor Burn, in 1296. It was originally a 2-storey building but in 1305 he obtained a licence to add battlements, crenellations and curtain walls. Despite this it was pillaged and burnt by the Scots in 1315. Two years later the English recaptured it, only to lose it again to the Scots in 1346.
In the middle of the 16th century the building was renovated, and mid 17th century it was converted into a farm. It remained a farm until 1966.
It is a remarkably solid building. Information panels showing the floor plans are strategically placed and, on the ground floor, there’s a charming storybook on a sturdy wooden table. Sunlight dances off the wall hangings in the regal hall. I find myself gazing at the rough roof tiles, high above the timber beams. The patterns intrigue.
Outside, Autumn continues to glow. I hope for a tearoom attached to the Castle, currently managed by English Heritage, but a small shop has to suffice. Lunch proves to be a bar of fudge and a hot chocolate, clutched for warmth. Still, it’s a fairytale setting and I’m not disappointed.
Leaving the castle behind, there are decisions to be made. Left or right? Left is a longer walk, which passes by the pottery kilns, but the light is already beginning to fade. I’m afraid that good sense prevails. A country lane eventually leads back to Corbridge.
I have some bad news for you. The Castle is now closed until April next year. I caught the last weekend, but the location is still lovely. The English Heritage website provides all the details, and if you want the full 6 mile circuit, pottery kilns included, this is how. There are some great pubs for food in Corbridge, if you’ve time to linger. Here it’s time to put the kettle on and settle in for a good read.
Many thanks to all for your wonderful contributions again this week. Your enthusiasm and support drives me ever onward. Hope you enjoyed this week’s walk. It’s easy to join in, if you’d like. Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page. Just click on the logo above.
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Debbie has a delicious waterside stroll for us this week. But do take care of your ankles!
Desmond has a barrow in the market place. Molly is the singer with the band. Thanks Drake!
Pink houses, peach houses, or how about lemon? Jude, in colourful Colchester :
Violet has found us some more delights this week! And it’s not even snowing! (Yet!)
Anabel tests her fitness levels and comes out on top!
Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River
And looking at glorious locations, not much can top this. Thanks, Lady Lee!
Monserrat, Spain – the trip of a lifetime
Jackie’s in Jamestown. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t named after my son :
Woolly is waving goodbye this week :
Jo’s-Monday-Walk-The-Promenade
While Paula has a very special, luminous night time stroll to share :
Thursday’s Special: Pick a Word in November
And Susan has searched out some very beautiful fountains in Central Park :
You can almost hear the noise from Carole’s Mute Swans! They’re fabulous :
Next please let me introduce Unicorn and Bear, a hiking couple from Canada :
Grouse Mountain and Lynn Canyon, North Shore of Vancouver
Miriam’s feeling a bit adventurous this week, and why not?
I wouldn’t get far on Kathryn’s walk because there’s a recycle book store. Serious temptation!
That’s it for another week. Hope you all have a good one. See you soon!
Six word Saturday
What a strange world this is!
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.
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!
Before and after
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?
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
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.
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.
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?
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 :
Food, fun and frolics in Canada, with Jackie :
If you’re still hungry, head on over to Violet’s place :
Nothing I like more than a touch of Capability Brown! And fuzzy sheep! Thanks, Elaine :
A lovely old house and a sculpture trail sounds good to me. BiTi will show you round :
A Yorkshireman in NZ has found a place that looks like home. Please go and say hi?
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 :
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 :
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!
restlessjo 
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