Photography

Six word Saturday

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Through Autumn’s golden gown we used….

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…to kick our way.  You always loved this time of year.”  Was ever there a more haunting Autumn anthem?  The Moody Blues song always echoes in my head as the season draws to its close.  Don’t you love the gleeful expression of the guy hoovering up the leaves, and that little intent group by the pond?  There’s so much to love about this life.

I’m putting the miseries firmly behind me and having one more flurry with Verena’s Festival of Leaves.  It’s a little drab and grey here today but there’s always joy to be found.  This afternoon I shall be celebrating a 70th with a rather special gent. (no, not mine!)  Make the most of your weekend, won’t you, and don’t forget to share six words.

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Ascending

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Ascending through grey

Slicing sad, foreboding clouds.

Miracle of flight

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I’m struggling a bit with blogging at the minute.  All the zap seems to have gone out of me.  It’s natural enough, I suppose.  I hate these grey skies and Dad’s loss has left an emptiness.  The day I left Faro was one of the longest in my life.  The sky itself felt full of sorrow, and I both wanted, but dreaded, to be home again.  But down on the Praia life went on.  A battle with the elements that held me captive for a few sweet moments.

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If there’s one thing you can rely on it’s that Thursday’s Special, and that Paula will do her best to make it so.  Thanks, lovely lady.

Jo’s Monday walk : The Masmorra Trail

In total contrast to last week’s walk, I’m taking you up into the Algarve hills today.  Winding 43kms north of Tavira on a delicious roller coaster of a road, you will find the sleepy village of Cachopo.  We can stop there on the way back, but for now we’re following signs for Martim Longo.  High up, the scenery is beautiful, even though wearing its scorched autumn gown.

A left turn and you’re on barely surfaced roads that lead you, slowly, through three scarcely known villages to your ultimate destination, Mealha. Why so much effort, you might be wondering?  Dolmens, or standing stones are the answer.  I’m taking a step back in time to the 3rd millennia BC. But first, the village of Mealha, not without its own charms, including these witches’ hat buildings.

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These circular buildings, with a conical roof, are known as ‘palheiros’ and are designed to store hay for cattle.  Made of slate, the roofs are constructed of reeds from the river bed and ‘thatched’ with hay.   Up to 6 metres in diameter and 2.5 metres high, it is not unknown for them to have provided dwelling places in the past.  A little cramped, I think.

Distracted as I am, taking photos of the pointed huts and wells, I leave navigation to my partner.  He’s usually reliable, but on this occasion it takes 3 false starts to escape the clutches of the village.  Despite knowing smiles and hand signs from the villagers, we find ourselves scaling walls, only to end up in a cabbage patch.  Not shown on the map!  We cross the ‘ribeirinha’, the river bed, and fortunately dry, in entirely the wrong place. Eventually we manage to get back on track, but never with any great conviction.  It’s a warm day and I am concerned to conserve our water rations.

Some of the confusion arises because there are 3 trails leading out of the village.  We are attempting to follow PR8, which we take to be the Masmorra Trail featured in our guide book.  Much of the route seems to be uphill, but the sky has cleared to that lovely blue again, with a nice cooling breeze.  More uncertainty as the trails cross over each other, but upwards seems to be the right choice.

Not quite in despair, we are very relieved to spot, in the distance, a pair of ruined windmills.  Thank heavens, we are still on course, and we know that the dolmens are close by.  True to form, I almost pass them by.

“They’ll only be tiny” said the voice of reason.  I hadn’t expected them to be huge, but I could quite easily have gone romping down the other side of the hill and missed them completely.  Fortunately, one of us is paying attention.  After all, how big does a burial chamber need to be?  Somewhat irreverently I hop down inside, in hot pursuit of a dozing lizard.  In seconds he is alert and shimmying off into a crevice.

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The Masmorra ‘anta’, or burial chamber, is 3.20 metres in diameter and comprised of 9 vertically positioned slabs.  The access would have been covered and was through a lower corridor, facing east and aligned to coincide with sunrise at the Summer Solstice.  The coverings have disappeared but the slab for the chamber would have been very large.  The ‘antas’ are always positioned on high ground, and often marking a territorial boundary.  They helped to dissuade unwelcome visitors with their magical, religious aura.

The route back to Mealha was short, downhill and very straightforward, which had us wondering if we mightn’t have been better to tackle it the other way around.  Hindsight is a wonderful thing.  You might like to compare my account with that of Becky, who was there last year.

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Did you realise that I was going to link this post to Paula?  It’s perfect for Traces of the Past, isn’t it?  Then we’ll have a swift look at Cachopo.  The intention was to have a leisurely lunch and rest our weary feet.  Palmeiras bar had the prettiest little vine covered garden, but no food.  Trying her very best, the lovely lady behind the counter produced a dish of fresh monkey nuts to accompany our wine.  Oh, well…

This walk is featured on page 104 in Walking Trails of the Algarve, should you decide to give it a go.  If not you might prefer a little wander in the back streets of Cachopo.  Now let’s get the kettle on, shall we?

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Another bumper selection of wonderful walks this week.  I know it takes time but do please find a moment to visit.  So much effort goes into these walks and I’m very appreciative.  If you’d like to join me, details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page.  All are welcome.

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I know nothing about Williamsburg, but Jackie’s soon going to put that right!

Day 3, Williamsburg VA

Violet Sky has a real treat in store this week.  Don’t miss this one!

Mums on parade

Jesh always has something a little different for you :

Nostalgic Walk

30 years of walking sounds fearful!  Only joking, Geoff :

30 years on…#walking

Making the most of this lovely Autumn with Little Miss Traveler :

An autumn stroll around Burley-inWharfedale 

And I have a lovely new contributor- welcome Woolly!

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BiTi has more wonderful photos from Yosemite :

Yosemite National Park- between sunrise and sunset

And Jaspa trespasses on Jude territory.  Understandably, he seems to like it!

Wheal Coates UNESCO Tin Mine, Cornwall

Tish Farrell is one of the most emotive writers I know, so it was a real pleasure to share a drowsy afternoon with her :

All Gold On All Hallows’ Eve in Bishop’s Castle

I love the west coast of the Algarve and I know you’ll enjoy seeing it with Jules.  Please go and say hi!

Five days alone hiking the Fishermen’s Trail

Drake, meanwhile is in the very best of company, down on Mathew Street :

Let it be

I’m sure most of you know Andrew, but if you haven’t had the pleasure…

Greek Islands, Amorgos and a Walk Through History

Denzil has a few ideas for keeping the family entertained on your walks :

The Fun of Finding and Photographing Fungi 

Kathryn takes us on ramble no. 20, California style :

Ewoldsen Trail

And Tobias bestows a little sparkle and shine this Monday morning :

Golden Hour

I can’t imagine anybody less idle than my lovely friend Meg.  Here’s another treat from her :

An idle stroll 

Fabulous, aren’t they?  Thank you so much for your company, and I hope you all have a great week.

 

Jo’s Monday walk : Rocha Delicada

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I’m sharing another walk from the Walking Trails of the Algarve this week.  You’ll find Rocha Delicada, or Elegant Rock, on page 30 of the guide. This is a bit of a walk on the wild side, but I think my bird watching friends will love it, and I loved the variety of the landscape.

It’s very easy to tootle past the exit on E125 for Mexilhoeira Grande railway station, where the walk begins.  I know, because we did.  Faded grandeur is too kind an expression to describe the station, reached along a bumpy track, but do persevere.  It gets better.

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That’s Mexilhoeira Grande, over the wall, but you won’t go anywhere near it.  Instead you cross the railway tracks and follow the signs. It’s an 8km circular walk, following the edge of the salt marshes out to the estuary of the Ria de Alvor.

As usually happens, the dog barks ferociously, but wags his tail at the intruders.  An equestrian centre is something of a surprise, as are the snails adorning the wayside shrubs.  The ripe figs are no surprise at all.  And then you’re out amid the salt marshes.

Did you spot my heron friend?  He kept trying to give me the slip but I was persistent.  I wasn’t so lucky with the red dragonflies, flitting always just beyond my focus.  And then the landscape opens out in a broad sweep, right across to Praia de Alvor.  It’s a mesmerising sight.  All along the shore couples, families and solitary pickers spend back-breaking hours collecting shellfish.

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img_4014Because it’s so flat you can see for miles.  All the way back to Mexilhoeira Grande, and across the lagoon to the resort of Alvor.  During the autumn and winter migrations there are large numbers of waders and passerines.  I gather that raptors pass through, but I can’t claim to have spotted peregrine falcons, kestrels or little owls.  My partner has much better eyesight.  I make do with heron.

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The shellfish seekers stay out until the tide rolls in.  Far in the distance, my partner spots a sight that amuses him greatly.  It’s very warm for October and a parasol flutters, providing just enough shade for the dog, while his owner works.

The walk is now heading directly towards Rocha Delicada and I wonder how steep it will be to climb.  My attention is temporarily diverted by a flock of flamingos, initially just specks in the distance.  I half expect them to fly away at my approach but I’m able to get quite close.

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One adventurer steps out determinedly, in search of better foraging.  After a slight hesitation, the others follow.  I watch, fascinated.

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I’m not on my own because a number of cars are parked at the back of the marshes, to observe the birds.  As often happens, we could have driven to this point, but where would be the fun in that?  I’m slightly relieved, though, to find that access to the Rocha itself is prohibited.  The walk returns over gently undulating farmland, with the odd sympathetic ruin for company.

There’s still a little excitement en route.  A small plane circles overhead, discharging paragliders as it goes.  We pass the aerodrome on our way back to the E125.  ‘Maybe next time?’ I ask.  ‘No way’ says the husband.  But think of the view!

I’m half tempted to take you into Alvor, across the estuary.  There’s a wonderful boardwalk to enjoy, after you’ve had a bite to eat on the waterfront. That’s what we did, but perhaps I should save it for another day.  If you go looking for it, the Mexilhoeira Grande station turn off is on the E125, between Portimao and Lagos.

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Once again I’d like to say thanks for all the good wishes and kindness since Dad died.  It’s slowly becoming real to me, but I’m lucky.  I have so many happy memories.

There’s a bumper crop of walks for you this week.  Please take time to read and share.  As always you can join in if you’d like.  Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page.  Many thanks to all of you for taking part.

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Meg shares so much beauty in this post.  You won’t be able to resist :

Poland- a land of folklore?

I really like Violet’s sculptures.  Well, not hers personally… you’ll see what I mean :

Corydon Avenue

Chairlifts, mountains and marmots- another winner from Anabel :

Grand Teton National Park

I’ve seen many sunrises but I’d love to see one in Yosemite.  Thanks, Biti!

Sunrise in Yosemite

I’m a sucker for a lovely garden, as Becky very well knows :

There are so many trails to explore

And while I’m down south, how about an outing with a Rusty Duck?

Blown Away At Boscastle

Geoff and Dog- the perfect partnership :

Woolwich to Grove Park#capitalring#walking

Kathryn takes the kids for a bit of a jaunt.  Why not join her?

Winters, CA

How well do you know Wellington, NZ?  Let Amanda show you some highlights :

Te Papa, Beach and Wind Walk

Drake knows Alsace pretty well.  Such atmosphere in these wonderful ruins!

Left the door open

Adding a little drama and adventure to the walks, don’t miss Jill’s latest episode :

Night time jungle walk, Cuyabeno Wildlife Reserve

And there’s always space here for Becky.  This is a less well known bit of Lisbon :

Take a walk in the park

Still following Susan’s wanderings, but I’m a little behind :

Walking Helsinki, Finland 

That’s it for now.  Happy Halloween to you!  Hoping you have a great week.

 

Six word Saturday

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Trick or treat,  in Autumn glory

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I had no real intention to post today but I couldn’t resist sharing a little of this joy.  I managed to escape for a few hours to Thorp Perrow Arboretum yesterday.  I made it the subject of a Monday walk around this time last year, so I remarked to my husband that the camera would probably stay tucked in my pocket.  He didn’t believe me, and nor should you.

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The leaves were wonderfully crispy.  Just perfect for hurling in the air, or over poor Dad.  I couldn’t help but smile, the youngsters were so gleeful.

From in amongst the glorious foliage, squeals and screams emerged, accompanied by rapidly clapping hands.  The applause, correctly performed, caused the eyes of the witches and skeletons to gleam- a source of great entertainment for young and old alike.

Surprising how much one Autumn can differ from another.  The sky was bluer when I was here last, but the trees in this 100 acres of woodland seemed less vivid.  This year the assault on my senses was overwhelming.

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The Halloween activities finish this weekend, but the Autumn colour may last a little while yet.  If you’re in the area, Thorp Perrow is a beautiful place to be, as was Jude’s Bolfrack’s Garden this month.  I’m squeezing in at the very last minute but there’ll be a new theme for the Garden Challenge on Sunday.

I’m also running out of time for Verena’s Festival of Leaves.  Oh dear!  Such a lot happening in my six words.  Can’t argue with Cate’s six words this week!  Let’s get out there and kick some leaves.  See you on Monday!

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Jo’s Monday walk : Alternative Ayamonte

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It seems strange to be blogging again.  The even keel with which I was sailing seems slightly out of kilter.  When I visited Ayamonte I had no idea that Dad was ill.  With my usual exuberance I was seeking out a less well known aspect of this intensely Spanish town, visible from the Algarve across the River Guadiana.  The ferry journey is part of the attraction for me, and I love to watch as the white houses draw nearer and we nose into the quay.  An hour has slipped away on the 10 minute crossing, and a different culture awaits.

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Maybe you remember A little side trip to Spain ?  This time I had my eye fixed on the church at the upper level of the town, San Salvador.  Looking back, the road bridge follows me into Spain.  The shoreline leads past an enigmatic statue and a severely embattled boat hull.

Beyond the boatyard a network of noisily inhabited streets open out.  The Spanish greet and call out to each other in a tongue more harsh than I’m used.  I exchange shy smiles and try to remember that ‘thank you’ is not ‘obrigada’ in Spain.

Ayamonte has changed hands between Portugal and Spain a number of times in its history.  The name is thought to come from the mound on which the settlement was built.  The Romans knew it as Aya Montis (or Mount Aya).  Beyond the modern apartments The Templo de San Francisco beams indulgently.  Once it belonged to a Franciscan convent, founded in 1417.

The street is nothing if not colourful, and my eyes wander from rooftops to doorways and back again.  I am particularly taken with a fully tiled jade green building, balconies gleaming with cool elegance.  I anticipate plenty of customers for the fish restaurant.

Turning the corner the street narrows and starts to ascend.  Still looking up and down, the random delight of spouting gargoyles, serpentine door knockers, a subtle school and the indisputably Spanish window grills.  A senhora pours water down the gutter and languid chat ensues.

Halfway up the street I encounter the mystery of El Boqueron.  A chapel and a huge well denote the place where an underground tunnel links the former castle at Ayamonte with the Portuguese town, Castro Marim, on the other side of the Guadiana river.  The passage is about 300 metres long and runs from the area of the well on Calle Galdames.  It is part of a sewerage network, channeling rainwater and domestic water from homes.  A large trough ripples gently in the bright sunlight.

I knew nothing of El Boqueron in advance and, not being fluent in Spanish, it wasn’t until I returned home that I could unravel this mystery. Incredible to think of this structure, used as a hiding place in war time, beneath these tranquil streets.

Continuing upwards, finally I reach Plaza del Salvador.  The magnificent pink-belfried church of San Salvador dominates the square. All is silent and the church closed, so I cannot verify the lovely Mudejar ceiling from 1400, nor climb to the belfry for the fine views.

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Beyond the plaza the modern world intrudes, overlooked by the remnants of a fortress.  I make my way back down towards the waterfront and make one final discovery, on Calle Marte.  The bull ring, resolute in its presence, though I could never have persuaded myself to witness its spectacle.

In Ayamonte eventually everyone gravitates towards Plaza de la Laguna, and so do I.  The restaurants surrounding the striking square hum with Spanish lunchtime chatter.  In a quiet corner, children choose an after dinner treat from the sweet shop.  The assistant solemnly awaits the outcome of this most important decision.

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For me it’s time to return to Calle Muelle de Portugal for the ferry crossing back to Vila Real de S. Antonio.  I hope you enjoyed my visit to Ayamonte.  Further details can be found in this Ayamonte guide, and in the link to El Boqueron.

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Thank you so much for your kindness and for the many messages of support I have received.  Dad had a fine ‘send off’ and I’m doing my best to adjust to life without him.  It’s what he would have wanted.

I’m back in business for walks this week so if you have any you’d like to share I’d be grateful.  As usual details are to be found on my Jo’s Monday walk page.  Just click on the logo above.  Meantime please enjoy these select few :

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Becky does find interesting subjects for her walks.  Don’t miss this one!

Unexpected and fascinating art on Howland Street

And equally unexpected and interesting from Yvette.  I almost missed this one!

Walk with Jo : Food and cast iron (SC Flea Market Part 2)

I passed by this place on a long ago trip to America.  Let Elaine show you around :

Hearst Castle

‘Your money or your life?’  Nope- that was Dick Turpin, wasn’t it, Becky?

Waylaid by Captain Kidd on the Thames Path

Take care of yourselves.  I hope to be out and about visiting you all soon.

 

Jo’s Monday walk : A Royal Odyssey

It was not a promising beginning!  I stuck my head out of Edinburgh’s Waverley Station into damp and dreary grey skies.  No-one gave the bedraggled looking ice cream vendor a second look.  Still  I was bubbling over with excitement at a precious few hours in this beautiful city and determined to make the best of it.   Where better to start than The Royal Mile?

Approximately a mile long (surprise!), it rolls gently downhill from Edinburgh Castle to the gates of Holyrood Palace.  Did you know that miles can vary in length?  I was astounded to find that they can indeed, and that a Scots mile is longer than an English mile!  No wonder my feet got tired in Edinburgh.  The English statute mile was established by a Weights and Measures Act of Parliament, in 1593, during the reign of Elizabeth I.  “A mile shall contain 8 Furlongs, every Furlong 40 Poles, and every Pole shall contain 16 Foot and a half”.  For more clarity, read this link.

You will observe that Edinburgh has its share of ‘tourist tat’ interspersed with venerable historic buildings.  There’s room for all.  The Royal Mile is actually comprised of five consecutive streets- Castlehill, Lawnmarket, High St., Canongate and Abbey Strand.  I joined High St. directly from North Bridge and was ambling down towards the Palace.  Many closes and alleys invite further inspection, but I’m drawn towards the World’s End pub on the corner of St. Mary’s St., a former city boundary.  After the English victory over the Scots, in 1513 at the Battle of Flodden, a city wall was built around Edinburgh. Parts of the Flodden Wall still exist in the pub foundations.  Brass studs in the road mark the former position of the Netherbow Port, a gateway in the wall.

John Knox House stands on the opposite corner.  The gateway was removed in 1764 to improve the flow of traffic where the road narrows. Beyond lies Canongate, literally ‘the canon’s way’, used by the Augustinian monks from Holyrood Palace.  Until 1856 Canongate was not only a street, but the name of the surrounding burgh.  It was separate from Edinburgh and outside of the Flodden Wall.

The damp persisted, but it didn’t stop my enjoyment of a totally unexpected city garden.  I had stumbled upon Dunbar’s Close, complete with wonderfully cobwebby Scottish thistle.  This 17th century garden was created by Sir Patrick Geddes, an eminent Scots biologist who was aware of the relationship between health and environment.  It was restored to its current condition in 1978.

At the bottom of the Royal Mile there’s a choice between the modern and inspiring Scottish Parliament Building and historic Holyrood Palace.  You know which I chose, but I neglected to allow you a little glimpse inside.  I think you might enjoy this 2 minute video.

Suitably impressed, it was time to make my way back up the Royal Mile.  This time I continued on to Lawnmarket, and the Mercat Cross on Parliament Square.  Royal proclamations and the summoning of Parliament are traditionally announced here, and a bubble blower was having fun with the crowd.  St. Giles Cathedral, on the opposite side of the square, dates from the 14th Century and is the High Kirk of Edinburgh .

The real piper, or a dummy at the traditional kilt store?  I liked them both.  I had reached the Bank of Scotland, in all its magnificence. Have you noticed that the clouds have lifted and at last the sky is blue?  Curious about The Mound, I headed that way.  Apparently it’s an artificial hill, built to fill in a loch that was part of ancient Edinburgh’s defence system.

I don’t know about you but I was getting tired and hungry.  Up on The Mound, I found the perfect thing.

Haggis, neeps and tatties, of course.  Now, I’m not going to take you too much further but my digs are at the far end of Princes St.  I decided to walk through Princes St. Gardens. You’d like a quick look, wouldn’t you?  The mist is just rising over the castle.

Did you spot the statue of Wojtek and the Bear?  You probably don’t know the amazing story of the bear who went to war.  A group of young Polish girls were taking his photo, but moved aside for me, with a giggle or two.

I’m going to say my farewells here.  I checked into my accommodation, then did the Water of Leith walk that I shared last week.  You can get back to our start point at Waverley Station by tram, if you’d like.   I never did manage a tram ride in Edinburgh.  Maybe next time?

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Hope you enjoyed this walk.  I’m going to be putting my feet up for a week or two, but first I have some wonderful shares.  Thank you so much to everybody for your enthusiasm and support.  My apologies that I won’t be able to share for a while, so please do make the most of the following :

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I cover a decent few miles, and so does my good friend Becky.  But sl-ow-ly!

Strolling along the Thames Path- part one!

‘Leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again..’  Or boat, in Drake’s case :

Leaving through backdoor

Them boots are made for…  Cardinal!

Hiking Boots

I hope Lady Lee has good boots too!

Hiking in Tenerife

It’s many a long year since I was in lovely Inverary.  Let Anabel show you around :

Inverary and Auchindrain

Islands around Toronto are always a novelty.  Go hopping with Jackie!

Island hopping

And look at local murals with Trav Trails :

City Walks

What would you expect to see in Bern, Switzerland?  Let Laia show you the sights :

Bern : music, roses and … bears?

Making me yearn for the Algarve, Miriam fills my senses with salt spray :

Walking Cape Schank

Some of you will know Kathe from Six word Saturday.  She’s sampling a little Scots whisky on this walk :

Yesterday’s short walk to Muir of Ord’s Distillery

And Liesbet is keeping us fit with a bit of rock scrambling :

WW- Gorham Mountain Train in Acadia NP, Maine

But there’s a gentler way too :

The Park Loop Road in Acadia National Park, ME

Susan has made it to the Baltic, and found a parade and some idyllic shops :

Walking Stockholm, Sweden

Or how about a crazy but beautiful Art Party, with Kathrin?

Anne & Mark’s Art Party 2016

Get those trumpets ready to sound the fanfare!  Here comes Badfish :

Strolling Through Prague : One fine day- Part 1

There won’t be another Monday walk until 17th October.  Sounds ages away, doesn’t it?  I’ll try to keep in touch but I don’t have WiFi in the Algarve. It’s wonderful just to switch off from social media and indulge in friends and places.  I’ll miss you, so please take care of yourselves while I’m gone.

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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