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OctoberBest

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Autumn is in full swing so it’s time to dig out some russet-clad snaps of Warley Woods to decorate this month’s post, and see what’s been occurring in October.

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We’ll start with some Nature Notes:

October is the month when millions of birds relocate from their breeding sites to wintering grounds, with many of them getting lost along the way.

Spurn Point is one of the best areas for these lost souls to drop in as it curls for over three miles into the North Sea. With nearly 400 different birds recorded here, the peninsula has the highest species count on mainland Britain.

Being a narrow tidal island, Spurn offers a quick breather for any migratory birds blown off course. Originally it was classed as a spit but a massive storm recently pummelled it into re-categorisation. Nature is now allowed to take its course with no effort being made to fix Spurn’s position.

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Spurn Point after the tidal surge in 2013. Credit: Environment Agency.

There have been a few hissy fits regarding recent man-made developments at Spurn Point. The building of the new visitor centre, funded by E.ON (whose vast Humber Gateway wind farms loom off Spurn) have had some residents calling it a “carbuncle.”

Although there were no zingers on the day, Spurn did churn out some notable attendees.

First up was a Rosy-coloured Starling (why not just Rosy Starling?) basking in the unseasonal sunshine on a solar-powered rooftop. On a wire fence nearby, neatly lined up along a row of posts were a Yellowhammer, Whinchat and Stonechat. As is their wont, Yellow-browed Warblers skulked around in several scrubby bushes as we walked around the reserve. A Great white Egret flew over in the afternoon, and a Wheatear popped up in a nearby field, so resplendent it looked like it had just stepped out of the Collins Guide.

Terry

A circular walk through cut paths led into the Kilnsea Wetlands, where ducks, waders and wildfowl were plentiful. From a viewing platform, an insouciant Roe Deer was seen being sort of insouciant alongside the scrubby hedges.

There was a old concrete Sound Mirror in one of the fields – a forerunner of radar to provide early warnings of incoming enemy aircraft.

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A final scan of the beach unearthed some dainty Snow Buntings, which brought to a close another grand day out.

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The trip to Spurn was sandwiched in-between a couple of visits to the theatre.

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At the Birmingham Rep was the World Premiere of Rebus: Long Shadows by Ian Rankin, featuring Coronation Street’s very own Jim MacDonald.

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Cathy Tyson with Charles Lawson as Rebus. Photograph: Robert Day

Here is an abridged review from The Guardian by Clare Brennan:

Rankin’s chance meeting with a lassie on his tenement stair stirs ghosts of unsolved cases: two murdered girls demand justice. A pending court case may deliver it, but evidence is in question. The now-retired detective (Charles Lawson) follows the old ways, trusting to instinct and getting down and dirty with the criminals he knows too well. His former protégé, Siobhan (Cathy Tyson), espouses the new world of teamwork and protocols. “Big Ger” Cafferty (John Stahl) is the villain who aims to destroy the one and corrupt the other.

As always with Rankin, character drives the plot. The script gives the characters demotic dialogue and daringly long speeches. The actors relish both. We, in turn, relish them.

Lawson’s Rebus is as gritty, tormented and uncompromising as the original. The actor effectively communicates layers of feeling through various angles of hunched shoulders, degrees of head tilt and heaviness of footfall. The villain, Cafferty, is a crowing, suave bundle of viciousness personified – Stahl’s performance convincingly exposes depths that neither explain nor redeem him. The two actors play off one another to perfection.

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The other cultural slice of the Spurn sandwich was another visit to the Birmingham Rep for The Wipers Times.

Written by Ian Hislop and Nick Newman, The Wipers Times tells the true story of the satirical newspaper created amid the mud and mayhem of the First World War.

In a bombed out building in the Belgium town of Ypres (mis-pronounced Wipers by British soldiers), a printing press is discovered by two officers, and soon a cheerful and subversive newspaper is being churned out for the men on the front line.

Here’s a snippet of the review from the Express & Star by Jerald Smith:

In 1916 Captain Roberts, Lieutenant Pearson, Sergeant Harris and a group of soldiers from the Sherwood Foresters came across an abandoned printing press near the town of Ypres.

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The Wipers Times – Philip-Tull

There was a small supply of printing materials – enough to start producing a run of about 100 copies or so, which they did on a bi-monthly basis for the next two years.

It was not so much a newspaper, more a collection of jokes and by turns it was subversive, mawkish, groaningly punny and incredibly funny.

It satirised the press and poked fun at the high command so much so there were moves to have the paper shut and the editorial staff court-martialed.

It should be remembered that the army in 1914 was made up of legendary line regiments, but you needed to have gone to a public school to get into these. The British High Command was renowned for the excellence of its wine cellars. It was therefore not surprising that the chief War Lords were not universally loved by their troops.

Indeed, General Haig acquired his nickname “The Butcher” not because of the effect his policies had on the enemy troops but mainly because of the deadly effects on his own, of which nearly one million died and two million were wounded.

Life on the front line was both dangerous and boring. Apart from having to cope with trench foot, trench livers and rat-infested accommodation, there were also artillery shells, chlorine and mustard gas shells and snipers to contend with.

No wonder that the gallows humour of the Wipers Times proved so popular.

Caroline Leslie’s production catches some of the poignancy created in war situations and the futility of war is well presented as the characters remark how familiar the scenery is, having moved just ten yards sideways in six months.

 

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by Paul Reynolds

Ash came to Birmingham, and we caught the durable Northern Irish band in full sway at the Digbeth 02 Institute and, in time-honoured fashion, here’s the review shamelessly lifted from someone else’s pen – from Counteract’s Samuel Lambeth:

Downpatrick’s finest export Ash returned to the Midlands in support of acclaimed new album Islands, playing a furious, career-spanning set.

Ash stride onstage, a whiff of adolescence still lingering over them as Tim Wheeler – bulging muscles, close crop haircut and irrepressible gregarious grin – straps on his Flying V (I think that’s a guitar – Ed) amid feverish applause. However, those waiting for the pummelling pop punk of old will have to wait as instead they open with the beautiful, aching melodies of ‘True Story’, a bruised rocker and standout song from acclaimed new album Islands.

From then on, though, it’s back to the traditional Ash format. Wheeler’s guitar squeals out the stomp of ‘Kung Fu’ and the cocksure strut of ‘Cocoon’ with such rampant energy half the crowd are dying for a post-riff cigarette. ‘Oh Yeah’ and ‘A Life Less Ordinary’ are dispatched early on in the set, two of their finest songs that glide upon twinkling lyrics, blistering brio and pummelling drums, while the gloriously potty-mouthed ‘Buzzkill’ is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it slice of old school scuzz.

These gigs display just how many hits Ash created, as well as their dexterity. The frenzied ‘Orpheus’ nestles comfortably among the arms-aloft anthem ‘Shining Light’, but there’s two songs in particular everyone in the room can’t wait to hear – ‘Girl From Mars’ may now be over twenty years old, but it still has the strong undercurrent of youthful daydreaming and free-spirited joy that made it a staple during the late ‘90s. ‘Burn Baby Burn’ is equally joyous, a thrashy rocker.

Ash prove time and time again they’re a band built for all seasons.

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Dudley Castle

This month’s walk was another of Brian’s ever-popular urban heritage walks: “You’ll be travelling to the capital city of another country – The Black Country – complete with its own flag. So bring your passport and phrasebook – I’ve arranged visas for all of you.”

This time we were off to see what Dudley was all about.

A local MP once described the Black Country flag as “racist and offensive” and wanted it scrapped on account of the possible slavery connotations of chain imagery and colours.

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However, the flag owes its design to a quote from the American Consul in Birmingham who described the region as “black by day, red by night,” in reference to the smoking furnaces that belched out smoke during the day and smouldered at night. The central white area represents the glass cone, a symbol of the region’s glass-making heritage. The chains represent a typical product manufactured in the area – you know, chains such as the ones that rattled around the Titanic…

The Titanic anchor on its original journey to Dudley train station in 1911

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Dudley Railway Station 2018

The walk commenced from The Priory of St James, the ruins of which have stood in Dudley since Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries.

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Priory of St James (seen better days)

Some historical snippets:

Originally a market town, Dudley was one of the birthplaces for the Industrial Revolution, and has a history dating back to Anglo-Saxon times. Its name derives from the Old English Duddan Leah, meaning Dudda’s clearing. In the Doomesday Book, it was scored as Dudelei.

King Stephen attacked Dudley in 1138 after a failed siege of Dudley Castle following the Baron of Dudley’s support of the throne-claiming Empress Matilda (the daughter of King Henry I for all you history buffs).

During the English Civil War, Dudley served as a Royalist stronghold, and the castle was besieged twice and later partly demolished on government orders after the Royalist surrender.

The remains of the castle overlook the town and provide the setting for the famous Dudley Zoo. The zoo received World Monument Status for the world’s largest single collection of Tectons – which are not a species of marmoset but the reinforced Modernist buildings that were revolutionary at the time.

The Limestone Way leads to the Wren’s Nest National Nature Reserve, where Dudley’s geological significance soon becomes apparent with slices and layers of rock, many pitted with fossils, and all manner of canal tunnels and limestone pits on site.

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About 300 million years ago, give or take a week, the tropical seas that covered Dudley disappeared and were replaced by a vast swamp within which the coal seams and iron ore deposits were formed. It was a perfect geological storm that tossed up all the raw materials needed to power Dudley and the Black Country through the Industrial Revolution.

“In no part of England are more geological features brought together in a small compass than in the environs of Dudley.” Said Sir Roderick Murchison in 1849, the David Attenborough of his day.

On a football note, the Messi of his day was undisputedly Duncan Edwards, a proud son of Dudley, whose peerless skills for England and Manchester United were cut short by the Munich Air Disaster in 1958. Contemporaries of Duncan Edwards have always been unstinting in their praise. Bobby Charlton reckoned he was “the only player that made me feel inferior.”

Duncan

There is a statue of Duncan in the town centre, clad in his England gear. On the outskirts of the town, there is another statue, this time to a sporting daughter of Dudley – Dorothy Round. Her bronze life-size likeness overlooks the tennis courts where she used to play.

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Dudley Dot was a multiple Grand Slam winner in the thirties, taking the Wimbledon crown twice, and adding the Australian title for good measure.

 

There was a complete nut-fest going on at the Film Club, which was showing the surreal (and rather naughty) Dogtooth:

Dogtooth‘This year sees a return to all things creepy and sinister in October at the Flat Disc Society.’

First up is an episode from the first “Spooky” series of ITV’s children’s anthology programme Dramarama: The Exorcism of Amy. Amy’s malevolent imaginary friend Amelia’s mischievous behaviour can only be curbed by an exorcism.

The main feature is Yorgos Lanthimos’ highly regarded Greek film Dogtooth (winning the Prix Un Certain Regard at Cannes and was nominated for a Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, among many other awards). Dogtooth is about a husband and wife who keep their children ignorant of the world outside their fenced compound well into adulthood. Their parents say they will be ready to leave once they lose a dogtooth, and that one can only leave safely by car.

Now, with the month almost done, the evenings drawing in and a cold snap on the way, it’s time to take flight – to Portugal for a sneaky week.

I’m all set…

Settings

 

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Windswept Sept

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The Minster – by MatzeTrier

A Staff Residential trip to York this month included a visit to the English Wine Project at Renishaw Hall in Derbyshire.

Interest in English wine has never been so strong with around 400 vineyards producing still and sparkling wine across the UK – from as far north as Yorkshire, and all the way down to the Kent coast.

Kieron Atkinson is the Founder of the English Wine Project, and he gave a short tour of operations at the vineyard, which included the obligatory wine tasting session.

Vineyard

Kieron oversees the development of the wine product, having planted a third more vines on the existing site at Renishaw. This has increased the yield with a red grape variety, Rondo, producing some tasty rose and red wines.

A tour of the vineyard followed where we learned about the fruiting seasons, cycles of vines and some tips on growing grapes (you can get a hefty punnet from Aldi for a decent price so don’t bother). Having grown to optimum plucking state, the grapes are always hand-picked.

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Renishaw Hall has been the home of the Sitwell family who have lived here for nearly 400 years. Keen collectors and enthusiastic patrons of the arts, the most famous of the Sitwells was the literary trio of Edith, Osbert and Sacheverell (yes, really). They all played a significant role in the artistic and literary part of the last century, no doubt propping up their literary aspirations with the odd drop of claret now and again.

Dame Edith Sitwell was a grandly eccentric poet and novelist whose literary merits often played second fiddle to her general nuttiness. Edith did not actually consider herself to be eccentric: just that I am more alive than most people – I am an unpopular electric eel in a pond of catfish.

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Edith trying out Madonna’s Vogue dance routine

‘Still Falls the Rain’ may be considered her most famous poem but ‘Came the Great Popinjay’ is worth a whirl for its intriguing meters – it’s not very often you get Uganda, Handel and Civets all in one go.

Came the great Popinjay
Smelling his nosegay:
In cages like grots
The birds sang gavottes.
‘Herodiade’s flea
Was named sweet Amanda,
She danced like a lady
From here to Uganda.
Oh, what a dance was there!
Long-haired, the candle
Salome-like tossed her hair
To a dance tune by Handel.’ . . .
Dance they still? Then came
Courtier Death,
Blew out the candle flame
With civet breath.

Cup

 A Traditional Afternoon Tea was served at Betty’s Tea Rooms – we had jam sandwiches and a Penguin each.

Actually, it wasn’t the traditional afternoon tea I’m used to but a refined Edwardian custom as proposed by the (probably quite lardy) seventh Duchess of Bedford who needed to bridge the gap between lunch and dinner by stuffing her face with sarnies and scones.

Thus we indulged in freshly made finger sandwiches, sultana scones, and dainty handmade cakes, all served on an elegant little cake stand with pots of tea and coffee brewed up in the best china and silverware.

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Mmm……Cake

The tea rooms, artfully designed with interiors inspired by the Queen Mary ocean liner, are quite a draw for tourists where polite queues line up outside to partake in a spot of tea-taking.

These traditional afternoon teas have been served up since the 1920s when Swiss confectioner Frederick Belmont arrived in England to build up his own business, and opened his first Betty’s in Harrogate.

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He had originally planned to head for the resorts of the south coast but got the wrong train and ended up in Yorkshire. He quite liked it so he stayed.

Fortunately, in accordance with the Duchess of Bedford’s prescribed regimens for afternoon tea, we had been shored up sufficiently enough to last until dinner in the Refectory Kitchen & Terrace at the Principal York Hotel.

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The following day, it was onto the Jorvik Viking Centre for a bit of intellectual pillaging.

Between 1976-81 during a good dig around, archaeologists from York Archaeological Trust revealed the houses, workshops and backyards of the Viking-Age city of Jorvik. The remains of 1,000-year-old houses, Viking-age timbers and various objects and artifacts from the excavations are on show at the centre, either in display cabinets or below shoe-level thanks to a glass floor.

A ride experience ushers little peopled capsules through an updated historical interpretation of the Viking city with impressive reconstructions from the age including flora, fauna, breeds of animal, natural dyes – and even the smells and sounds of the era.

Animatronics provide a key emphasis on Viking authenticity with clothing, facial features and speech being meticulously researched to offer a telling insight into the lives of people who lived through Viking times.

There was also a particularly scary dog.

York has walls. And a walk along the fortified perimeter walls provides a good elevated view of York. Since Roman times, York has been defended by walls, and has more miles of intact wall than any other city in England.

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From various vantage points along the wall can be seen the impossibly intricate York Minster, a Gothic-style cathedral built on a scale that knocks most British cathedrals out of the park.

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It costs a bit to get in. There’s no ‘suggested donation’ here, just a stern demand for an entrance fee and, if you try to slip into the Evensong in the guise of a worshipping public, you must commit to the entire performance or frocked bouncers will bar you from entering.

Lounging outside the front entrance is a statue of Roman Emperor Constantine – it was in York where he was hailed as Emperor of the Roman Empire in AD 306.

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Constantine: Emperor of Scaffolding

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York has some serious back-story.

Budding arsonist, Guy Fawkes was born in York, and baptized at the church of St Michael le Belfrey next to York Minster (seen at left).

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The Shambles is a general term for the maze of twisting, narrow lanes, which make York so charming. It also provided inspiration for some of the Harry Potter film sets – hence the proliferation of Harry Potter stores at one end of the twisty lane. It is arguably the best-preserved medieval street in the world, and was mentioned in the Doomsday Book of William the Conqueror in 1086.

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Peter K Burian

Dog

There is a shrine dedicated to Margaret Clitherow in the Shambles. She was caught hiding Catholic priests, which in sixteenth century York was a serious offence. Her sentence was to be ‘pressed’ – with the door of her own house laid upon her and huge stones piled up on top to squish her.

It was the last time she played ‘hide and seek’ and often wished she’d hid behind the curtains instead.

Greg

Soon it was time to sit back, relax and appreciate York from a different perspective with an afternoon Cruise on the Ouse.

The River Ouse was already carrying visitors long before the arrival of the Vikings, and York owes its existence to this one. When the Romans constructed a fortress above the River Ouse, it provided an ideal defensive site that over time brought both invaders and trade to the city.

A Mink provided a little diversion for some as it was seen scampering away under the shored-up riverbank.

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A steady course was steered through the heart of York, with the knowledgeable captain alerting us to fascinating facts about various buildings, bridges (apparently the Blue Bridge is so-called because it’s painted blue) and other historic sites that we could hardly see from our riverine viewpoint.

 

Titchwell

As usual, Titchwell served up a great day’s walking and birding for the West Midland Bird Club. This famous Norfolk reserve rarely fails to deliver and in amongst the usual pick ‘n’ mix of waders and water birds were Curlew Sandpiper, Grey Plover, Pink-footed Geese, Little Stint, Red-crested Pochard and Ruff. A Great White Egret settled itself down amongst the reeds and a Bittern flew past. Marsh Harriers played their part in the general pageant, and there was the usual compliment of ducks, geese, herons, plovers and swans.

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Bath Time for Curlew

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Pete

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Little-ringed Plovers

There was no partridge, no pear trees either but we did get great views of two Turtle Doves – a rare sight these days.

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Turtle Dove

 

 

The first Flat Disc Society evening of the film season was marked with a triple-bill of films starring new Doctor Who actor, Jodie Whittaker.

VenusFirst up was Dust, a bizarre short film also starring Alan Rickman, where an unusual-looking man follows a woman and her daughter to their home and breaks into their house.

Then an episode of Charlie Brooker’s anthology series Black Mirror: The Entire History of You. Is it possible to remember too much?

The main feature was Venus, Jodie Whittaker’s first lead role alongside Peter O’Toole, Leslie Phillips, Richard Griffiths and Vanessa Redgrave. Written by Hanif Kureishi, Venus concerns an elderly actor (O’Toole) who finds himself increasingly attracted to his friend’s grand-niece whilst finding himself in deteriorating health.

All good stuff!

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Bonny Scotland (and other clichés)

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“They may take away our lives, but they’ll never take our freedom!” roared Scottish rebel William Wallace until he was blue in the face.

Mel Gibson’s portrayal of the rebel – and revered symbol of Scottish resistance – in the film Braveheart was a tad on the inaccurate side to say the least. For starters, Wallace wasn’t even “Braveheart” – that was Robert the Bruce!

In a film famously shot-through with historical inaccuracies, even the scene featuring the famous Battle of Stirling Bridge was missing a somewhat significant prop: the bridge.

The Battle of Stirling Bridge took place in 1215, when the Scots routed the English troops, and a view of the battleground with a loop of the river can be seen from the top of the National Wallace Monument.

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The famous loop

In a nutshell, possible something resembling a pistachio, the huge English force of cavalry and infantry were caught on the confined narrow loop of the River Forth having crossed a wooden bridge, and were soon driven into ignominy, then into the ground, and finally into oblivion.

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The actual bridge

Niggly little side note: William’s mother was Margaret Crawford – a daughter of Hugh Crawford, head of the House of Crawford.

The Scots were encamped at the time on the rocky Abbey Craig where the National Wallace Monument stands today. It is only a short haggis throw away from the University of Stirling where I was encamped myself.

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Not a bad campus

Nestled snugly in the foothills of the Scottish Highlands, the university campus is often cited as one of the most beautiful campuses (or is that campi?) in the UK with its own loch amidst acres of trees and greenery.

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Not bad at all…

Known as the Gateway to the Highlands, Stirling tumbles down from the castle – grey, blocky and brooding. Mary, Queen of Scots, lived here, and her son, King James VI, was crowned King of Scots at the nearby Church of the Holy Rude; arch Scottish reformer John Knox was on hand to rattle off the sermon.

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Aerial view of Stirling Castle by Godot13

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The Old Town Jail was built when the former Tolbooth Jail (now Stirling’s venue for music, performance and classes) was rated as the worst prison in Britain. It was still no picnic though – a strict regime of solitude, ghastly food, hard work, and aching discomfort saw to that. They were probably made to watch Eastenders too.

The tour of the jail was an enjoyable actor-led romp with one actor playing all the characters from prisoner to warden to executioner.

The roof top observation area gives excellent 360-degree views over Stirling where the Wallace Tower can be easily seen poking out of the forested crags.

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Old Stirling Bridge and the Abbey Craig with the Wallace Monument by Kim Traynor

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Wallace Monument by BusterBrownBB

The site of that other famous Scottish battle – the one of Bannockburn in 1314 – can also be pointed out from the observation deck.

The Battle of Bannockburn has an immersive 3D battle experience on site at the visitor centre. The 3D technology puts you in the thick of medieval combat on the momentous day when Robert the Bruce changed the course of Scottish history. But without being splattered with blood and guts or having a horse fall on you.

Unlike Braveheart, this was a more accurate telling of Scottish history.

Robert the Bruce faced King Edward II at Bannockburn in the decisive battle of the Wars of Scottish Independence.

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Located between Stirling and Perth is the small town of Auchterarder, a mere putt away from the famous Gleneagles Golf Course. The steeply sided Ochil Hills range back from Auchterader towards the Wallace Monument.

The long high street of Auchterarder gave the town its popular name of The Lang Toun. In the Middle Ages, Auchterarder was also known as the ‘town of 100 drawbridges’ – a natty description of the narrow bridges that once led from the road across wide gutters to the doorsteps of houses.

Auchterarder was also home to several generations of the Crawford family – going all the way back to at least 1630 (that we know of!)

Auchterader

Auchterader

Close to the University of Stirling is the town of Dunblane. A tributary of the River Forth, the Allan Water runs through the town; there is a post box painted gold to commemorate local hero Andy Murray’s Olympic achievements, and a smallish cathedral, in the nave of which is a cenotaph in commemoration of the Dunblane Massacre of 1996.

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Across the way is the 17th century Leighton Library – the oldest purpose-built private library in Scotland – with a collection of 4,500 books including a first edition of Walter Scott’s The Lady of the Lake. Best of all is Buffon’s artistic drawings of animals in his seventeen volumes of Histoire Naturelle written between 1749 – 1804.

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Lynx

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Leighton Library by LM Rodger

Time for a ‘toon…

Librarian+

 

 

Glasgow – what can you say about it?

Historically always vying for top Scottish billing with Edinburgh, there’s enough meat on this city’s bones to satisfy the greediest of travellers.

It is difficult to describe a three-floored, vast-spaced towering edifice as a hidden treasure but the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum is tucked away on the edge of the rather splendid Kelvingrove Park in the west end of Glasgow.

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The Kelvingrove Museum and Art GalleryLin ChangChih

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However, it is still one of the most visited attractions in the city, not least because it houses many outstanding artworks including daubs by Rembrandt, Monet, Renoir, Vincent van Gogh as well as one of Salvador Dali’s most famous pieces – Christ of St John of the Cross. You would almost certainly recognize it if you saw it:

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Kelvington Art Gallery is probably as equally famous for its big organ:

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by innoxiuss

Before Birmingham reared its industrial head, Glasgow was the country’s second city, and its wealthy past has left a legacy of Victorian architecture including the City Chambers which preside over George Square.

Local artist and architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh added his own Nouveau and Deco tastes to the cityscape. Mackintosh seems to have carved out quite a bit of the city with buildings such as The Lighthouse, his first major architectural project. It was originally completed for the Glasgow Herald Newspaper, and claimed its name from the tower which reaches high above the city. It now houses the Scottish Centre for Architecture and Design. The iconic Glasgow School of Art is one of his most famous projects, at the moment undergoing extensive repairs and renovation after suffering yet another crippling fire.

Glasgow Cathedral pursues a medieval theme with its imposing presence and glittering stained glass panels. It is dedicated to St Mungo, the founder and patron saint of Glasgow, and was built on the spot where he was buried.

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On Glasgow’s coat or arms there is a bell, bird, fish and tree, which all relate to legendary episodes in Mungo’s life (check out the lamp-posts by the cathedral).

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Great views can be had of the cathedral and the city from the mesmeric Necropolis – the twisting cemetery that overlooks Glasgow, and is awash with statues, sculptures and headstones. Oddly enough, the first person to have a memorial isn’t buried here. A statue of John Knox became the foundation stone of the Necropolis, and was also the first statue built for the great protestant reformer throughout Scotland. Mackintosh also has a memorial here but he was buried in London. They did manage to up the ante by tipping in William Miller, the man responsible for the nursery rhyme Wee Willie Winkie.

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Glorious August

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‘Celebrating 30 Years Conserving Nature Worldwide 1989-2018’ was how the Birdfair at Rutland announced itself, and – being suckers for any avian announcement – Pete and I took ourselves over to rub shoulders with fellow devotees.

The Birdfair is a national event, bringing together wildlife enthusiasts and experts to show off and sell their latest binoculars and telescopes, field guides and biographies, paintings and prints, conservation gadgets and cameras, clothing, accessories and holidays.

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The experts…

Marquees and tented theatres were set up for the exhibitions, forums and lectures, and there was plenty of mingling to be had with well-known wildlife personalities such as Bill Oddie, Simon King, Mike Dilger, Nigel Marven, Jonathan Scott, David Lindo and Iolo Williams.

However, the real stars of the show were the Osprey and the Red-necked Phalarope that were seen as we soon strayed out onto the reserve.

 

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Bs0u10e01 – own work – Wikipedia

Dr Samuel Johnson, who married a Birmingham woman, was quite handy with the odd insult now and again. He called the inhabitants of Birmingham “boobies” who were not to be compared with the folks of Lichfield, “a city of philosophers.”

It could have been worse – his famous dictionary of 1755 contains such curmudgeonly barbs as Lackbrain, oysterwench, wantwit and clotpoll.

However, Birmingham has a top-notch philosopher in Ozzy Osbourne so what would he know?

Lichfield is a fine, nicely-appointed city, as notable for its three-spired medieval cathedral as it is for its philosophers.

A mere finch’s flight from the cathedral is Erasmus Darwin House, the former home of the grandfather of Charles Darwin. Erasmus anticipated the survival of the fittest in his scientific work, Zoonomia, foreshadowing the modern theory of evolution long before his grandson. Being one of the key thinkers of the time, Erasmus also dabbled in natural philosophy, physiology, and poetry, as well as inventing and debating all manner of stuff with his Lunar Society pals. He was also pretty good at tiddly-winks and hop-scotch.

Darwin

 

Last year, the Lapworth Museum of Geology was one of five museums shortlisted for the Museum of the Year, and is a right little gem of learning, located on the campus of the University of Birmingham.

It has three state-of-the-art galleries, vast fossil and mineral collections plus a range of innovative and interactive exhibits that recreate the Midlands landscape from millions of years ago. Fossils, volcanoes, diamonds and dinosaurs are all catered for here.

Trilobites

Some of the best fossil horizons are found in Dudley, in the Much Wenlock limestone with Trilobites featuring so heavily, one is even called the Dudley Bug!

It’s difficult to visit the University of Birmingham’s green and pleasant campus without popping into the celebrated Barber Institute.

On this occasion there was several items vying for attention.

The Drawn to Perfection collection trotted out some serious doodles – Claude, Bernini, Poussin all contributing their exquisite little scrawls to the exhibition.

The Centre Stage exhibition explored how artists such as Degas, Sickert and others have portrayed figures that were linked to the stage, but it was a painting on loan from the National Gallery that stole the show.

The Barber has its own Bellows painting – the shy and retiring ‘Nude – Miss Bentham,’ which flaunted itself alongside the visiting ‘Men of the Docks.’

George Bellows was the leading artist of New York’s early 20th Century ‘Ashcan School’ documenting an integral phase in the social history of the Big Apple.

It is worth showcasing more of his brilliant paintings here – especially the superb brutal boxing scene.

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Men of the Docks

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Blue Morning

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Central Park

Stag at Sharkeys by George Bellows

Stag at Sharkeys

 

Holding out for the last two weeks of August for a staycation was, as expected, not the best decision – the unprecedented summer heat wave didn’t quite make the end of the month.

Two out of three days stayed reasonably dry over a Bank Holiday spent in Liverpool. However, as predictable as a rainy day in August, we had a splendid time.

The Museum of Liverpool hosted an exhibition, Double Fantasy, about John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s story in their own words. This featured personal objects alongside their music and art; various interview footage, lyrics and quotes filled many a space.

The Pubs of Liverpool also continued to shine – the Cavern Club and Upstairs at Eric’s were soon bustling with Bank Holiday revellers and thirsty Brummies.

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…and thus was August concluded.

A few loose ends to tie up:

a rare visit to Villa Park to see a stirring 3-2 victory over Wigan Athletic.

Villa

…and a photographic exhibition at the Birmingham Library:

In the Footsteps of Phyllis… a homage to a tweed-clad Geography Lecturer who documented Birmingham 50 years ago. Her photographs have since been updated with later ones taken from the same location and displayed alongside the originals.

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Plus the latest Marvel blockbuster obviously needed viewing…

Antman

 

There was also the small matter of a little Scottish sojourn, which will be coming soon to a screen near you…

 

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Blue Skies in July

Bench

Amazingly, since posting a sarky photo of an elusive blue sky a couple of months ago, the UK has been besieged with torrential sunshine.

England is no longer a green and pleasant land but more of a straw-coloured landscape – a dried-out beige, if you will.

It was certainly scorchingly hot when we headed down to the Cotswold Food Fair in Cirencester, an annual rural ruckus that was melting under molten blue skies.

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The fair was held on the town’s Bathurst Estate and, after hitting the cider tent for a chilly one, due rounds were made of the various stalls and tents which peddled roofing services, leather hats and hot tubs alongside endangered sheep and local cheeses.

The Savage Skills BMX Team free-wheeled cycling skills in impressive style with dizzy jumps, tricks, spins and stunts in the central arena.

In the afternoon, the Bremont Great War Display Team took to the skies and engaged in daring dogfights with whirling Biplanes and Triplanes.

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Rare Breeds

Of course, the main focus of the Cotswold Show are the animals, and there were plenty about. Rare breeds pitched in with pigs, goats, sheep, chickens, ducks, geese and turkeys. There were shorn Alpacas, showy parrots and a pair of brewery Shire Horses.

Hook Norton Brewery – a majestic beer, it has to be said – are one of the last remaining breweries in the country that still use Shire Horses for weekday deliveries of beer. There are few creatures as noble or as dignified as Shire Horses if you want to get all anthropomorphic about it, (and I do) although one nag looked a bit tipsy and had probably snuck some of the local brew into his nose-bag.

The Hawkeye Falconry unit were resting their charges – owls, hawks, falcons and an eagle were tethered to their posts and sheltering from the fierce heat under splayed canvas awnings.

Ferrets being ferrets don’t do sheltering, and The Hants and Berks Ferret Club (what is it with snappy names?) were jumping their charges through hoops, tunnels, pipes and more beside, ably demonstrating the general elasticity of the weasel family.

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Waiting for the Ferret Race

Over fifty producers were featured in the Food Hall, selling delicious fare such as cheese, charcuterie, relishes and cakes (and cider!) In one tent, a Cookery Theatre was set up featuring local chefs who whipped up tasty recipes for folk to sample.

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Annie baling out

 

Royal Leamington Spa made a brief recurrence as venue of choice for the World Cup Third Place Play-Off at the White Horse. Another very hot day and blindingly bright with hearty flagons of ale to usher along footballing proceedings.

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Following the discovery in the late 18th century of additional springs (the original spring being near to All Saints’ Church) the village became an important spa resort. Queen Victoria was amused enough to grant the town a charter, and Leamington Spa subsequently became Royal.

The Royal Pump Rooms originally offered spa water baths, and now houses the museum, art gallery, and library. Across the way in the meticulously manicured Jephson Gardens is the spa water fountain next to the bridge. The bridge was widened and renamed in honour of Queen Victoria, who waddled across it after having hit the breakfast buffet a bit too vigorously.

John Ruskin, the eminent Victorian art critic and social reformer, lived in Leamington for a while, as did Napoleon during his exile in England. Frank Whittle of jet engine fame also studied here.

Of equal importance were friends who also put down roots here and eagerly joined us for a sunny afternoon of supping ale and hearty conversation (AKA: a good boozy natter).

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And now for a little nip of culture – a poem by John Betjeman, his first one published, and read by Kenneth Williams and Maggie Smith:

Death in Leamington by John Betjeman

She died in the upstairs bedroom
By the light of the ev’ning star
That shone through the plate glass window
From over Leamington Spa

Beside her the lonely crochet
Lay patiently and unstirred,
But the fingers that would have work’d it
Were dead as the spoken word.

And Nurse came in with the tea-things
Breast high ‘mid the stands and chairs-
But Nurse was alone with her own little soul,
And the things were alone with theirs.

She bolted the big round window,
She let the blinds unroll,
She set a match to the mantle,
She covered the fire with coal.

And “Tea!” she said in a tiny voice
“Wake up! It’s nearly five”
Oh! Chintzy, chintzy cheeriness,
Half dead and half alive.

Do you know that the stucco is peeling?
Do you know that the heart will stop?
From those yellow Italianate arches
Do you hear the plaster drop?

Nurse looked at the silent bedstead,
At the gray, decaying face,
As the calm of a Leamington ev’ning
Drifted into the place.

She moved the table of bottles
Away from the bed to the wall;
And tiptoeing gently over the stairs
Turned down the gas in the hall.

 

With no sign of the heat wave ending, more al fresco supping was soon underway at the Lock & Key Beer Festival at the Bond Co in Digbeth.

The festival focused on local breweries, as well as some national favourites – plenty of street food from local venders too.

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Etymological note: The name Digbeth is believed to be derived from Duck’s Bath in a nod to the water supply in the area. It could also have been forged from Dragon’s Breath, referring to the air pollution during the industrial revolution.

Bond

Etymological note: No, I can’t remember why the local ale, Smethwick Skull-Splitting Brain-Pummeller is called as such. Even out cold, I couldn’t recall…

 

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Dippy the Diplodocus is on tour from the Natural History Museum.

Dippy has been reassembled in the Gas Hall, surrounded by lots of other dinosaur, reptilian and avian exhibits. He is a plaster cast replica of the fossilized bones of a Diplodocus – a long, stretchy dinosaur thin at one end, much thicker in the middle, and thin at the other end. It is very similar to that standard Sauropod, the Brontosaurus.

Here is Anne Elk’s theory:

Although the Sauropods died out, not all dinosaurs bit the dust 66 million years ago – the Theropods evolved into birds and, using the museum’s superb bird collection, this link is nicely explored within the exhibition.

Dippy was taken apart and rebuilt for this exhibition – not an easy task, as he is made up of 292 bone casts including 70 tail vertebrae.

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Dippy the Dinosaur at the Natural History Museum in 1905

…time for a couple of prehistoric cartoons from the Crow Collection:

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TyrannoWrecked

Lots of live music going on around Brum this month for the Jazz Festival.

King Pleasure and the Biscuits Boys are one of the best bands for Swing and Rhythm & Blues with riveting stage performances, so a chance to see them at Sutton Town Hall was not to be missed.

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Here’s a couple of YouTube clips, including the very funny bass player, Shark van Schtoop, and a somewhat bizarre appearance on Teletubbies without the very funny bass player (they featured in five episodes apparently).

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World Cup June

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Yes, it’s that quadrennial celebration when every screen is set to shades of green as football dominates and disrupts the embedded drinking patterns of all.

However, before the football madness began, there was plenty of time for a little nature and some wild spaces to be indulged.

It is often a two-fleece job whenever a visit to Yorkshire is planned so we were very lucky to plunder three excellent sunny days for ourselves in Bridlington.

A minor sea fishing port with a working harbour, Bridlington is a great base from which to explore the wild and not-so-windy-this-time recesses of Yorkshire.

Fairburn Ings was well worth dipping into on the way up from Brum. The word ‘ings’ is of Old Norse origin meaning ‘damp or marshy land that floods’ so that gives you an idea of this nature reserve – plenty of flood meadows, fenland, some reedbeds and a fair chunk of woodland. The Ings got the weekend off to a fine start with stunners such as Hobby, Black-necked Grebe, nesting Spoonbills and a Cuckoo.

There was also a collection of Cuckoo Wasps, scribbling their way around an old dead tree. These were Ruby-tailed Wasps or Jewel Wasps – common monikers for what are formally known as Cuckoo Wasps which, like their avian namesake, plunder the nests of other species. The resulting larvae eat the egg or larvae of the host – not the sort of guests you want to invite over for cocktails.

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From Bridlington, it is a short zip up to the awe-inspiring Bempton Cliffs, a veritable seabird city with Gannets and Guillemots galore, neat little Razorbills and Kittiwakes, whirling Fulmars, and everyone’s favourite, Puffins – all thumbed tightly into dizzy notches and nicks on the towering chalk cliff faces.

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There are excellent viewing platforms arranged along the cliffs at various points for some of the most spectacular seabird viewing in the country. Nearly half a million seabirds don’t know the meaning of the word ‘quiet.’

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Puffins

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Razorbills and Puffin

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Kittiwake

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Razorbill and Guillimot

The hypnotic sight (and smell) of the various colonies, with additional gulls and jackdaws is mesmerising at times, a bit like watching the sea – until you realise you are actually watching the sea as well.

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Even more senses can be overloaded with a stirring yomp over the cliffs to Flamborough Head for more of the same.

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Flowers

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Jackdaw

 

Tophill Low was a surprisingly good find over the weekend. Tucked away off one of the main roads, this reserve is an active Yorkshire Water Treatment Works built in 1959. It opened its doors as a Nature Reserve in 1993 and features several hides spread across two main reservoirs that flank the River Hull.

The two reservoirs – ‘D’ and ‘O’ dominate an area peppered with substantial marshes, ponds, woodlands and grasslands.

A Great-spotted Woodpecker was a great spot from the first hide, as were the Yellow Wagtails, but the most memorable sighting of the day were the Marsh Frogs.

These are large non-native species, frog-marching their way up the country from Romney Marshes. It was their incredible booming croak – they are also known as the Laughing Frog – that was difficult to pin down at first. A couple of male frogs were soon spied, rattling their sabres at each other across a small pond.

Here’s a little clip from YouTube so you can appreciate the crazy volume of these amphibians (filmed by Anna Benson Gyles):

…And here’s a froggy cartoon from the Crow Collection – a best seller in its day:

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Blacktoft Sands is another great little reserve on the Humber estuary, and one we often visit when up in Yorkshire. The vast tidal reedbed is the largest in England, a haven for many species of wildlife, and it wasn’t long before some lofty Marsh Harriers heaved themselves into the air and began scanning the reeds for snacks. We once saw a harrier take a gull chick from its nest at this reserve so were hopeful of a replay but nothing doing.

Blacktoft Sands also has saline lagoons, which are rare in Europe and provide an ideal habitat for a variety of leggy wading birds including the ever-elegant Avocets.

 

Cattle

There were more leggy shenanigans later in the month when the fell-walking crew took to the Staffordshire Moorlands for a brisk circuit.

Fortunately, Adrian L was on board to provide his inexhaustible commentary:

Start at Hulme End, Staffordshire Moorlands

Location: Grid Ref: SK 1062 5927

From the car park, we walk for a mile along the route of the railway. Then go up Ecton Hill. Information points on way up about the mining that has occurred there since the Neolithic ages. 

Nice views. Then we come down Ecton Hill and through a bit of a gorge (Wetton Mill). Nice views. Then we go up another hill. Nice views. Then we go down the hill. Nice views. Then we walk along the Hoo Brook for a while until we get to Butterton, which is on the side of a hill. Then we go to the Black Lion Inn on top of that hill. The pub does not mind dogs coming in. It’s the owners they sometimes have an issue with and may get ordered out. After the pub, we go down the other side of the hill. Nice views. Then we go up another hill. Nice views. Eventually reaching Revidge Moor – nice views. Then we go off that hill back to the car park.     

Some of you have not been happy in the past about not being told if there is any mud. If there has been rain do not be surprised if there is mud. That usually happens when it rains.  

Cheers, Adrian, for a very singular take on this month’s wanderings.

 

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Heather Watson Wellies It

In between various World Cup kick-offs, there was a series of supporting events to enjoy:

The Nature Valley Classic at the Edgbaston Priory Club – for a long time an annual event for us – again shocked with the lack of rain – that’s two years running now.

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Pat Cash gets to meet Steve P

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Steve P took his first ever selfie with tennis idol, Pat Cash, and the scene was set for some seemly sets. Here was the order of play and results:

Elina Svitolina beat Donna Vekic  6-1, 3-6, 6-1

Lesia Tsurenko beat Heather Watson  7-6, 7-5

Petra Kvitova beat Johanna Konta  6-3, 6-4

Garbine Muguruza beat Anastasia Pavlyuchenkova  6-1, 6-2

 

This seems just the place to serve up another silly toon:

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The novel Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks was one of the must-read books of the last ten years. The Alexandra Theatre was showing the critically acclaimed stage show based on the novel, which was well worth trundling along to.

Birdsong

Here’s Stephanie Balloo’s edited review of it for the Birmingham Mail:

With the centenary of the First World War drawing to a close this year, it seems fitting to stage a heart-wrenching tale of courage, anguish, duty, passion and love.

An adaptation of the book of the same title, doing justice to Sebastian Faulks’ beautifully visceral prose was bound to prove challenging.

It kicks off with an introduction to a peculiar, stern-faced Lieutenant Wraysford – played by Tom Kay – as he leads a team of fathers, husbands, sons through the trenches, tunnels and brutality of war. Tim Treloar as loveable cockney ‘sewer rat’, Jack Firebrace steals the show.

It is only as Wraysford lies seriously injured in a field – deliriously clinging to memories of all he holds dear – that the details of his perilous affair with the beautiful Isabelle Azaire emerge.

This is how we see the characters of Amiens, France – in abrupt flashes dotted throughout the incredibly powerful performance.

Breath-taking scenes of adulterous passion are effortlessly intertwined with the heartbreak of war – with the cast hurrying between each other as Stephen dips in and out of consciousness and daydreams.

It comes as no surprise as Faulks himself approved of the script – all the vital standout moments within the novel were accurate, intense and emotive – just as they should be.

 

Then it was off to the critically acclaimed Ivy restaurant for dinner to round off the weekend…

IVY

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That’s not the Ivy – that’s The Botanist…

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Alpha May

Blue

Yes, that is actual blue sky!

It is quite possibly the first of its kind seen around here since July last year (OK, maybe a slight exaggeration there – but not much of one).

Of course, if it’s hot and sunny, the obvious thing to do is to take off to somewhere quiet and peaceful and far from the madding crowd – somewhere like Stratford-upon-Avon on a Bank Holiday Monday!

Street

Stratford-upon-Avon is, of course, birthplace to the most famous writer who ever lived – old Shakey whose prodigious biro penned many a sonnet and balcony scene, and whose venerable status draws tourists aplenty to this little market town.

A procession of vintage cars glided along the street for the annual classic showpiece with some splendid old models being shined and waxed.

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Car camouflage

But this was not a day for looking at classic cars or for traipsing around museums and old houses, but a day in which a pub with a decent beer garden was to hold sway.

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Steve spots a beer garden

Soon we were meeting up with old friends – matey old beer and chummy cider mainly!

BeerGarden

 

Nature Notes Warning:

Although Ynys-hir in Wales is one of the best places in the country with its fabulous ancient oak woodlands (and Ice Cream I’m talking to you, Rum ‘n’ Raisin…), the West Midland Bird Club’s aim was to clock the Western Woodland Trio of Wood Warbler, Pied Flycatcher and Redstart – a summer visiting threesome that favours the woodlands of the west for their breeding grounds.

Woodies and Pied were quite obliging but the elusive Redstart remained out of reach for most of us.

Trees

However, Ynys-hir offered much more – a Red Kite soared past, its forked tail effortlessly steering the bird over our heads. A pair of Great-spotted Woodpeckers faffed around their nesting hole, the flycatchers were flitting around everywhere, and a medley of songsters were giving it full throttle: Willow Warbler, Whitethroat, Sedge Warbler, Blackcap, Garden Warbler, Song Thrush and Chiffchaff.

A Cuckoo perched up atop a low, bendy sapling – no doubt browsing for some poor sap to offload its parenting duties to. According to folklore, the cuckoo is also a good omen for marriage – should you wish to know whom you will marry, take off your shoe when you first hear the cuckoo and you will find a hair the same colour as that of your future spouse.

In his poem ‘The Shepherd’s Week,’ John Gay wrote:

Upon a rising bank I sat adown, 

Then doffed my shoe, and by my troth, I swear,

Therein I spied this yellow frizzled hair

(he then copped off with Robert Redford…)

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Fen

It wasn’t all about the birds – bluebells, bees and butterflies abounded too. Damselflies and Dragonflies, including a Four-spotted Chaser (thank you Mr Bug Expert), could be seen zipping all over the reserve, with Brimstones leading a charge of butterflies throughout the woods.

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Mid-week, and Craig was headlining at the Barnet Street Bar in Leamington Spa so it was off to the royal town for some first rate comedy and some royal drinking amid the Regency architecture and broad boulevards (OK, just in a bar or two…)

 

ComedyCraig

 

With the good weather threatening to last almost a week, it was a good omen for the weekend’s walk around Herefordshire.

Green

Here’s Jane with a comprehensive guide:

Bosbury – Map: OS Explorer 190

Start: Meet up at Ledbury – car park is just off the main street (near to the market square) in Bye Street (HR8 2AA).

Pub lunch at the Bell Inn in Bosbury – it’s a nice dog friendly pub that serves baguettes as well as a carvery on Sunday (also notable for the poor waitress tripping over when delivering a cheese baguette and sprawling on the lawn. The dogs appreciated the baguette).

The Walk:

Ledbury – Wellington Heath – Bosbury (about half way round) – Oyster Hill – Frith Wood – back to Ledbury

Field

There were several interesting little churches along the way – one at Wellington Heath, another at Coddington, and there was a 12th century church tower stumped in Bosbury itself.

The route cut through Coddington Vineyard, one of the smallest commercial vineyards in the UK.

The dizzy prospect of Ledbury’s church spire during the final descent from the cool Herefordshire Trail was worth the walk alone.

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Most interesting of all was the scenery, elevated views taking in great swathes of the green and the pleasant variety, seeping along with the Malvern Hills often in view, edging along deciduous woodland, through pastures, hop-fields and orchards.

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Trig

A short climb up Oyster Hill presented a panoramic view from the distant Black Mountains to the Malvern Hills. The descent along the edge of a wide, flower-strewn valley took us past Hope End House, the childhood home of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, which was corralled behind a walled garden.

Dandelions

Barretts

Elizabeth was a frail, poorly woman who struggled with a lifelong illness but was strong-willed and fiercely opposed the slavery on which her family’s fortune was founded.

Although her most famous poem was ‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways’ (that enduring staple of wedding speeches everywhere) Lizzy BB also penned a line or two about the Herefordshire countryside in her epic poem Aurora Leigh:

The Herefordshire Landscape

I dared to rest, or wander, – like a rest
Made sweeter for the step upon the grass, –
And view the ground’s most gentle dimplement,
(As if God’s finger touched but did not press
In making England!) such an up and down
Of verdure, – nothing too much up or down
A ripple of land; such little hills, the sky
Can stoop to tenderly and the wheatfields climb;
Such nooks of valleys, lined with orchises,
Fed full of noises by invisible streams;
And open pastures, where you scarcely tell
White daisies from white dew, – at intervals
The mythic oaks and elm-trees standing out
Self-poised upon their prodigy of shade, –
I thought my father’s land was worthy too
Of being my Shakespeare’s…
Then the thrushes sang,
And shook my pulses and the elms’ new leaves…
I flattered all the beauteous country round,
As poets use; the skies, the clouds, the fields,
The happy violets hiding from the roads
The primroses run down to, carrying gold, –
The tangled hedgerows, where the cows push out
Impatient horns and tolerant churning mouths
‘Twixt dripping ash-boughs, – hedgerows all alive
With birds and gnats and large white butterflies
Which look as if the May-flower had caught life
And palpitated forth upon the wind, –
Hills, vales, woods, netted in a silver mist,
Farm, granges, doubled up among the hills,
And cattle grazing in the watered vales,
And cottage-chimneys smoking from the woods,
And cottage-gardens smelling everywhere,
Confused with smell of orchards.

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING

I think a line or two about a hair-filled shoe would have enhanced this enormously.

Offside

This month’s Flat Disc Society prepared itself for the World Cup in Russia.

First up was an episode of Look at Life: Behind the World Cup, about the benefits of holding the World Cup in Britain in 1966.

Next was a short feature, Vita di Giacomo – with Giacomo struggling with his faith as he becomes a priest during the summer of 2006 at the time of the World Cup.

The main feature Offside tells the story of a Iranian girl who disguises herself as a boy to see a qualifying match between Iran and Bahrain prior to the 2006 World Cup.

In Iran, female football fans were not allowed into stadiums in case violence or verbal abuse was directed against them.

Despite these films, I wasn’t so over-dosed on celluloid that I could afford to miss the latest Marvel blockbuster:

Avengers

Brilliant!

A fine ramble along our regular Lapworth route was enhanced by glorious sunshine after a misty start. With all manner of rail network disruption going on, it necessitated a taxi being commissioned from Dorridge but it all worked out well in the end…

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The New ABBA

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World Cup Finally – a cartoon with a footy theme to round things off – back of the net!

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