Tramping tales for December 2012

With Justine and Daniel away in Sardinia for well deserved R & R together - we kept ‘house’ for the grandchildren.  From afar, they ‘stood’ us Sunday Lunch.  Kiki went off to her friend Sophie while the boys and grandparents enjoyed a pub roast at the Jug & Bottle in the neighbouring village Holton Le Clay.

Precious moments; quality time with Otto and Roo.

School term was coming to an end and many school activities were going on. Lea happily involved herself in these along with an afternoon to attend Year Three’s very modern pantomime production of ‘Cinderella’ with Christine Ramsden. Paternal and maternal grandmothers sat together expectantly waiting for Kiki to do them proud. So much for that! As a member of the school choir she had more of a distracted air about her and was more intent on tussling with the boy next to her until ‘Gang man style’ had her up and dancing with much animation. According to her father it is not ‘gang man’ but Gangnam style – a viral phenomenon from North Korea that swept the world with its catchy tune and actions. Our English grandchildren are very taken by it!

Between school and Christmas shopping to find ‘onesie' – the peak of fashion at present for all ages that in our mind is simply a footless  ‘babygro’ of the seventies, the days of December galloped by as we prepared for a Christmas abroad! The preceding weekend we socialised... the ‘rellies’ from next door come for Christmas Curry dinner.  In Justine’s inimitable way for a predominantly vegetarian meal - she provided a labour intensive variety and her mother became kitchen-hand chopping, peeling and washing up. A most interesting combination of flavours made for a fine evening meal with Mathew, Sue, Jack & Natasha Ramsden, John Ramsden and Sue’s parent’s John and Ann Leslie. Sunday took us all to Sheffield to attend the 80^th birthday celebrations of John Ramsden’s brother, Bill.  Lea had her hair cut for the occasion by Andy, her hairdresser from Weelsby School days. He was amazed by the length of her hair- he ‘ain’t seen nothing has he!

During introductory small talk between strangers – our nomadic lifestyle utterly fascinated and a plea for more ... had Lea sitting with a just as interesting, well travelled couple-Ann and Ed Peat, himself a local farmer, children’s author and metal sculptor! 

20 December- term ended and as the doors opened at the end of the day we swooped up the children and headed for the ferry in Hull. The Ramsden family were taking us on their annual ski trip over the festive season and we were certainly not being dragged kicking and screaming. On the contrary we couldn’t believe our incredible luck at returning to the French Alps with them. A most comfortable night followed a buffet dinner where we were joined by Martin and Elaine Lenard, her son Sean and grand-daughter Sophie- Kiki’s close friend. They had surprised us with their last minute decision to forgo a traditional Christmas at home and ‘wing it’ with us, booking the same ferry and the same apartment block in Vaujany.  The little girls had no idea until they saw each other on board, so much girlish excitement!  A nine hour, virtually non-stop journey along the motorway up to the Alps was broken by a siren as Gendarmes signalled Daniel to pull over! Their polite and skilled policing impressed us. Speeding? “Ah Non! Non!” Proclaimed Daniel... Their photographic evidence was available and Dan had to pay up on the spot. In Australia or England he’d probably have lost his license.

Sadly, we missed Daniel’s suitably mortified expression as soon as he realised his wife was surreptitiously capturing the moment on camera!

Justine had loaded a minute i-pod with George’s favourite music and given him head phones to block out children and wife for the long confinement. Noises! Every now and then a strange guttural murmur or caterwaul would emanate from George’s corner along with lots of nodding!  On approaching Grenoble during the evening rush hour we were slowed up but all knew we were less than hour away from Vaujany and felt all the more energised as we began crawling up the mountain waiting for Grenoble traffic to steadily fall away and then we were ‘free’, taking the hairpin bends with growing excitement that our destination was close at hand.

VAUJANY

The ski resort of Vaujany is situated in the Oisans area of the Isère department in the Northern Alps region. It is part of the Grands Rousses ski domain. The name, Vaujany, has its roots in the Latin Via-Janus which signifies an access or crossing point; in this case it is on the way to one of the principal mountain passes linking the Dauphiné with the Savoie. Until relatively recently the village was heavily reliant on agriculture and included sheep crofting. Following the Second World War there was some small scale ski development in the villages of the l’Eau d’Olle valley. Drag lifts were built at Oz, Vaujany, the rivier d’Allemont and l’Enversin, all within the attractive narrow valley. This allowed Vaujany to benefit from winter sports tourism. Adding financial weight, the state owned electric company (EDF) decided to build a dam and reservoir under the col du Glandon. Giant pumps lift water from a lower reservoir up to the Grand Maison dam overnight when there is less load on the grid. This water is then released during the day during peak demand. The compensation paid by the EDF enabled Oz to construct the Poutron 1 and 2 links in 1987 and Vaujany the Dome des Petites Rousses cable car in 1989. The lift service area extends from 1250 metres to 2800 metres and there are 236 km of lifts serving the runs.  Not to mention 50 km of cross country trails. Vaujany is linked by cable cars, and also separately by a gondola lift, to the Alpe d'Huez ski area. Lenny (Martin) has been here thirteen times over the years and he has seen development simply steam ahead. Even we noticed the changes since we were here in 2010.

The amount of luggage packed into our van had to be seen to be believed and yet Dan still found space for the Lenard’s Christmas tree! As soon as we had lugged all the boxes, cases and ski equipment up to our apartment we walked up the mountain side to Stiefs’s Bar Resto in the Galerie Marchande du haut – a little shopping precinct that we never even saw last time we were here. Christmas card perfect;  a mass of white lights in Christmas shapes glistened across the snow and as tables came together for the eleven of us the spirit of  Christmas descended and the party started...

Les Balcons de Vaujany was a perfect location for us. Very central with easy access in whatever weather conditions to the Galerie Marchard on the mountain slope above us and the ski terminus  just below us; taking skier in which ever direction they chose. Our bedroom faced onto the road and at odd times we’d have a huge refrigerated truck parked outside our window or hear the snow grader clearing the road as its warning lights flashed. An historic looking home on the other side of the road with carillon type bells that gently tinkle out the time without being intrusive  and we’d  nod off happily to the last ones we’d hear at 11 p.m. until the earliest we were groggily aware of at 8 a.m.  The process of gearing up for skiing was time consuming so we lay low in our beds each morning waiting for an ‘all clear’ in the form of stomping down the stairwell followed by  silence. Lea awoke the first day to an ‘allergy eye’ which wasn’t helped by the white glare off the snow and Justy ended up bringing Kiki back to our care mid-morning as she was running a temperature so it was as well the bright sunshine on white snow was evil for Lea’s eye and we were content to hang out in the semi dark of the apartment.

A view from our Les Balcons de Vaujany

George took a panned shot of the mountain range directly opposite our balcony avoiding the roof tops!

As it isn't possible to ski down to the village, Daniel was able to get well priced grandparents ski lift passes from the Ski School which took us up to the Montfrais sector enabling us to watch the family for brief periods before the children had their afternoon ski lessons. Aside from the fresh mountain air and some exercise we gain much pleasure from the piste and glorious mountain views in all directions.

Christmas Eve began with an eerily quiet Decente Aux Flambé – a torchlight descent by instructors of the French Ski School winding their way down the dark mountainside opposite our balcony.

Adding further to the atmosphere, familiar tunes of Christmas Carols wafted upwards and soon we were able to see a group of carollers singing outside the ski and bread shops beneath us. For a second night in a row we returned to Restaurant Le Mas des Neiges, a Savoyard Creperie also up on the Galerie Marchard for Christmas eve dinner as the previous night we had particularly liked the waitress perhaps even new owner and our bleu steaks served with mini soufflé of veg and a potato gratin were just delicious!  This time round, we were the party of eleven again. A little episode worth relating... By chance, during momentary quiet at our long table, we overheard a young lad at a table behind us say ‘The Lion sleeps tonight’ in his very English accent and without thinking our table broke into Wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh, wimoweh followed by ‘In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight’! A stunned reaction from the neighbouring table until the young fellow said- “You see everyone knows it”! Chuckles broke out and we explained we originated from Africa!

Tartiflettes ruled our Christmas Eve menu! A group photo shows Kiki with her Cheshire grin, Sophie, Elaine, Lenny, Justy and Roo (feeling dreadful) on the left with Otto, Sean, Daniel, Lea and George down the right.

A leisurely Christmas morn began with ‘Mom-mom’ making breakfast hot cakes for the party of 11 in the non-stick frypan without any correct implements! The children were far too excited playing with presents to think of eating though.

Otto highly tickled at this improvised ‘flip’ captured it on his i-pod! It worked very well.

Some of the gang pause at the Cable Car, all togged up in readiness for a Christmas Day ski prior to lesson time. Poor Roo, very hot and feverish was heavily medicated to cope with a long afternoon.

Weatherwise, Christmas was a magnificent day. Lea’s eye was back to normal and we took a good walk up at Montfrais before returning to the village.

A collage of scenes up on Montfrais

Daniel had told George about the Vaujany Gondola Car Tragedy and a memorial to ‘all the dignitaries killed at the opening ceremony’.  George was keen to find the Memorial and with much of the ice having melted it seemed a good day to work up an appetite for our dinner in the apartment. We steadily wound our way down the mountainside roads to the base of the l’Eau d’Olle valley    

The Gondola travelling across the valley above us.

We eventually found the Memorial

Contrary to the word of mouth history Daniel and Justine had been given, we discovered in the week before the planned opening ceremony, the huge Gondola slid and fell 200 meters from its cable on the 13th of January 1989, tragically killing eight technicians who were in the process of conducting the final trial of the biggest cable car in Europe, at the time. 

In some instances what goes DOWN unfortunately has to get back UP - in our case, the walk down the mountainside. Lea’s toes were feeling scrunched and her knee hadn’t taken kindly to the braking! George indicated walking further to catch the La Fare ski lift plying its way back and forth across the valley and took the road towards the Hydro Dam and found the La Fare Bubbles. It was, with a sense of relief, the method we successfully returned to the top and the doorstep of Les Balcons de Vaujany.

A 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle was started our first day here and many evenings gave us dreadful backache  as we compulsively bent over a large cardboard box – the only flat surface large enough on which to put the puzzle together in the confinement of the apartment. Regrettably it was an unstable surface with a dangerous sway when accidently knocked. Nerves were strained whenever the box threatened to cause a major upset, as the puzzle detail was frustrating enough! Justine became very possessive over a particular section she had developed. Otto had a good eye for identifying particularly difficult pieces – it was a fine way to involve everyone between bath schedules and dinner. George and Lea compulsively did many ‘bits’ throughout the days until finally two missing pieces were found while Lea cleaned the apartment on Boxing Day AND....

Bugle Call - Tarun too rah! With the puzzle on the dining table, out of harms way for cleaning purposes, George ceremonially finished the puzzle over a sip of tea and an audience of one! The kids were keen to start the next one, on their return from the piste but we needed respite until New Year’s Eve at least! 

Snow fell heavily in the high altitudes with poor visibility that Dan and Otto sms-ed for all to stay put in the village and shortly after, came down themselves. It rained and sleeted all day never-the-less come lesson time we all geared up to face the elements even George, with some grousing. “We need to experience some bad conditions and get out for a bit” insisted his spouse! Wind, snow dust and mixed fragments of hail and sleet soon had us take refuge in the Alpine restaurant - Le Vaujaniat,  across the main speedway (or so it seemed us) from the Ski School area,  while parents checked the children in. Lea took a slip on an upturned signboard that looked like a black mat and landed flat on her back as soon as she had safely crossed! We were soon beckoned to head up the piste to ‘Les Airelles’ as they had a good fire going. Hot chocolate and vin chaude brought inner warmth! One bad-dish day to end our first week was more than fair.

For Elaine and Lenny’s last day - ski-ing was superb. Otto passed his Bronze and even though a fevered Roo didn’t quite manage his Bronze he gained our full admiration for demonstrating amazing strength of character all week! The weekend brought more spectacular weather by day with good snow falls at night and vehicles poured into the village as skiers and snowboarder took to the Alps to make the most of it. Incredible clarity along with lack of wind decided the two of us to make the trip to the highest point- Pic Blanc with awe-inspiring panoramic views that we recalled so well from our first visit in February 2010.

Collage of our day trip to the top of the world via Gondola, cable cars, Bubble lifts and footsteps that had Lea’s toes and finger tips turning blue... fortunately a shared ‘Green Chaud’(Chartreuse laced with hot chocolate!) and Panini Raclette sorted us both out at the AlpD’Huez 2,100 Cafe after leaving the Peak!

A quiet Sunday relaxing in the flat learning to make the above collage on his new Christmas present kept George happily occupied while Lea cleaned the flat and made soup before we walked up to Galerie Marchard to resupply with basics and pay a visit to Espace Patrimoine (Heritage Museum) – where we found a fascinating hundred year history of Vaujany as related by its inhabitants. Particularly the harsh life and the number of welfare children sent here to help with agricultural duties; one devastating fire remembered above all others was started by German soldiers as a reprisal against Freedom Fighters two days after the allied troops landed in Provence in 1944. Within a generation, the loss of agricultural traditions led many to leave for jobs further afield. It was the Hydro Electric Pump Storage scheme and the skiing industry that brought Vaujany surrounds back to life.   Not only winter but summer sport too; as we discovered Vaujany has been a mountain-top finish in the Grande Boucle Féminine bicycle race (the equivalent of the Tour de France for female riders) on 13 occasions from 1992 to 2003, and again in 2005.

For last day of 2012 we caught the Gondola up to L’Alpette and a Bubble to Oz before walking through the small but picturesque hamlet of Oz en Oisans we enjoy so much as you can literally ski out your front door in most instances. Presently, the streets all look and feel as if they are paved in a very thick carpet of white sugar and it great to see the tiniest little kids skiing or sledging down the main thoroughfare. A voice unexpectedly blared out and we discovered a slalom competition was taking place just beyond our next lift station that would take us up to Alp D’Huez 2,100 altitude before yet another cable would take us down to the hectic village of Alp D’Huez – we don’t find it at all appealing BUT it’s surrounds are an amazing open expanse of piste and off piste which is alive with skiers and lifts in all direction and we spotted two para-gliders creaming it down one of the many slopes. The family had invited us to join them for lunch, after their second day of skiing down from Pic Blanc at an unknown venue for us up on Signal Hill which required catching a chair lift (timing of the essence if we weren’t to do ourselves an injury). We found Justine, Roo and Kiki waiting at the top for us with changed plans. We needed to go further afield with yet another chair lift while they skied down the mountain just below us – it tickled us as African landlubbers to watch our skier daughter haring down the mountain with grandchildren in tow! Villard Reculas appeared within a very pretty setting although we didn’t go into the hamlet itself, as the little alpine restaurant Dan and Otto had come ahead to ‘boogs’ a table inside, was perched on the steepest incline up from the ski lift. Access generally for skiers gliding in! We definitely needed ski-poles to aid and steady us up the lethal icy slope. Up top, we found   Otto ‘bubbling over’ having skied ‘The Tunnel’ up at Pic Blanc with his Dad and, Kiki bleeding after chez le chat, sunning itself on the snow, scratched her! 

Pictures tell more than words?

A lazy lunch didn’t leave much time for further exploration and we ‘raced’ the family back to Vaujany with hordes queuing for ascending Bubble and Cable cars which we had to contend with – Ramsdens grabbed drag lifts and skied home only to be astounded to find us waiting on the Vaujany Station stairway for them! A very physical day out had us all content to stay in on the eve of New Year. A delicious ‘Dusty Road’ soup with a savoury seed brittle from Sarah Lilford’s book went down a treat for dinner followed by a family game of ‘Cluedo. It ended in good timing for an excellent view of the Vaujany fireworks from our balcony before bed with our books at 9.30! Never the less, adults were aware of midnight when another short round of booms from fireworks brought in 2013 and sporadic yells and laughter or heavy boot footfalls for yet another hour and then silence.

BONNE ANNEE! 

2013 (we will stay with this blog until we are back in England). Up and away early, Dan took the boys snowboarding – a first time for Roo while Justine and Kiki were a little more leisurely getting off for a morning ski. A heavy snowfall had been forecast instead ice was melting and grubby runoff was occurring and, it wasn’t until the late afternoon that heavy clouds moved in with bouts of sleet, rain and finally snowflakes that gently wafted down as we prepared to walk to La Table de la Fare, for dinner on a lower level from our apartment. We recalled passing this busy traditional French restaurant that spilled out onto the Cable Station Square or Place du telepherique as the French call it, often enough, en route from our 2010 chalet in lower Vaujany to the Cable station. Now we were to eat in it and had a delightful night, each of us having a different speciality of the house. Yet again, an excellent waitress added to the enjoyment of the meal. George’s ‘modern’ raclette had him raise his hairy caterpillar brows somewhat horrified when an electric table-top grill with small pans, known as coupelles, to heat slices of raclette was placed in front of him. Despite being a tad agitated at doing his own ‘cooking’ when the sliced cheese came to the table accompanied by a platter of boiled potato, salad and charcuterie. He ended up thoroughly the experience. Lea’s Mont d’Or cheese melted in its box provided another type of delicious raclette dining. Oh Daniel and Justine how will we ever get back to earth after all this!

The closest Lea came to skiing was on the back of Daniel’s skies, hanging on for dear life and yelping!  

Two days and two nights were left in this heavenly place and with the family out enjoying the fresh snow; Lea began packing up in readiness for a good clean of the apartment on the last day. Not much had fallen in the village itself and we enjoyed walking the tiered streets enjoying the crisp mountain air, even found the run down farm house with chickens in a front room and a wire mesh door keeping them in that we recalled from our stay in lower Vaujany in 2010.  The penultimate evening was spent down at the magnificent new ice rink with Dan and the children entertaining us with their antics on ice. Finally, as evening drew in on our last day we had an unexpected skype from Keith, Colleen, Ella and Finn. From their voices and broad smiles we easily detected their sheer joy in the new Greyton home.  In fading Cape light, Keith gave us a bird’s eye view of the house and garden before we were forced to take leave for our last dinner out at Le Mas des Neiges. We hadn’t booked as we normally eat far earlier than the French and generally have no trouble with a table. This time the restaurant was full with one table to spare. Never-the-less, our front of house ‘lady’ (sadly, we never did learn her name) and the only waitress too, promptly shuffled things around and squeezed the seven of us in very comfortably. Her charming, relaxed manner even under immense pressure and a meal as delicious as ever combined to finish off our Vaujany stay on a high note! But wait, there was more... she brought us each a glass of "Génépi" (a digestif made from herbal Alpine plants of the region macerated for 40 days in a litre of alcohol with 40 sugar cubes!) on the house, in farewell and explained this digestif was a convivial French ritual to end a rich meal. Moments after, another delightful and very petite lady arrived at the table. She turned out to be the lady chef... Tchin! Tchin! Au Revoir – Dining experiences like that do not come round often. We happily departed for beds in readiness the long road ahead and a very early morning get away. 

Bientot Vaujany!

A pleasantly uneventful journey brought us safely back to Westfield Farm with a mountain of laundry to bring us back to reality! Alas, we now go into countdown mode for our remaining days in England. We fly out of Heathrow on the 21^st January and en route to Perth, Australia we are visiting San Francisco and Hawaii as part of our round the world ticket. So until February - 

Tramping tales for November 2012

The second weekend of November the Starks family from London - Nuala, Jack and their two children, Ruan and Bea, came to join us for the Tetney Bonfire weekend.  English Bommies are not too different to the colonial ones we grew up with in Rhodesia. By the time our children were growing up, fireworks had been banned for a spell in consideration of animal rights and other safety issues!  Over here, the Gypsies reserve space on the playing fields for their Fun Fair (Luna Park as we called it in Africa) giving the Village Hall much needed revenue.  On the day of the Tetney Bonfire, Daniel helped move the Gypsy’s heavy equipment over the soggy sportsground with his JCB. In turn, they gratefully him free rides.  Roo, Kiki and granny Mom-mom went on the Cliff Hanger together. This wild ride sent Lea’s long legs flying every which way totally out of control as the machine whizzed up, down and roundabout and we all shrieked in a mixture of pleasure and horror.

Ruben barrowed his ‘Guy Fawkes’ up to the village Hall only to find his Guy was the only entry. It was placed on top of the bonfire and he delightedly pocketed a twenty pound gift voucher.   

Out on the field Lea’s hands and feet steadily froze that eventually she could stand it no longer and hobbled home before the fireworks display had even begun. Fortunately George had refused to subject himself to the cold night air and the two of us settled down to TV instead – The X Factor has grabbed our attention for weeks as Ella Henderson, the little girl we used to hear singing “Tomorrow” with such heartfelt clarity has, at sixteen years of age, made it through to the final 12 and we are committed to cheering on ‘our girl next door’ (quite literally). Another week later, despite pundits saying she’d win, she was voted OUT to the stunned amazement of the country.

The night before we drove down Suffolk way George happened to take an issue of Countryside to bed where he became absorbed in an article about Muntjac deer.  Imagine his astonishment, on taking the luggage out to the car next morning to find a Muntjac deer hanging from the grapevine. Having learnt much overnight, George recognised this fascinating little buck, of Asiatic origin, by its two tusks (downward pointing canines) used for fighting and its large sub-orbital scent glands used for territory marking.

Muntjac, a deer introduced in 1838, escaped in 1925 and now so numerous it is predicted to become the most abundant deer species in the UK. 

Returning home the previous night, Daniel tghrew2 it in the back of his van seconds after it’d been hit by a car. Determined to eat it, Dan commenced skinning and degutting it next morning along with a good deal of retching and hung it in George’s workshop to mature.

We couldn’t resist a photo of Dan, completing his task in the workshop as we departed for the familiar A16 road south, aided by the tom-tom to find Beccles and the home of Cousin Ian Vivian and meet his wife Jill. She had been at Arundel School with his sister Sandra and in the back of Lea’s mind her name rang a distant bell making her keen to see whether the face in her memory matched the name! Cousin Sandra and her friends had always kept a kindly look-out for Lea as a new girl at senior school. Despite the passing decades, Lea recognised Jill although she recalled Jill being of fair colouring. She was! Her hair had darkened after having children.  After a cuppa, Ian and Jill were keen to show us around their neck of the woods as we didn’t know the area at all. We drove through Beccles, once a flourishing river port in the Waveney Valley and spotted all the river craft parked in the marinas as we made our way to the coast and Lowestoft. Very like Grimsby, Lowestoft had been a port for the North Sea fishing industry – until its decline.  And like Cleethorpes a popular holiday destination. 

We were amazed by Lowestoft’s beautiful wide sandy beaches with the inevitable rows of colour beach huts as we walked along the promenade talking nineteen to the dozen and caught up on the years.

Over breakfast, Ian happened to mention the church they attended, belonged to the Suckling family – a familiar name in Howman history dating back to Norfolk and the dynasty of vicars that somehow created a close association between the Howman, Suckling and Nelson families! Ian had no idea of these connections other than the Most Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Barsham has played a significant part in his recent life in Beccles, as his wife, Hilary’s funeral took place there and, he’d recently married Jill there. This gave us all the more reason to fit in a quick visit before we set off for the day to explore Reedham.   

We paused in the Lych-gate of the Church of the Most Holy Trinity, Barsham, where Ian and Jill were married in July 2012.

The Church of the Most Holy Trinity had a quaint and ancient looking exterior, set well back from a quiet English lane (described as a ‘rat-run’ which rather tickled us!) and situated in a large green meadow with a stately looking parsonage close by (the very home where Catherine Suckling -mother of Admiral Lord Nelson, was born and brought up).  Inside the old church, Ian pointed out the length of wall where hung England Expects That Every Man Will Do His Duty signal in flags and more recently discovered - the little lancet window through which an Equinox Event takes place.  Whether this is a magical occurrence or a useful check on the season is unknown. It is however, difficult to experience the Equinox phenomenon lasting all of 4 minutes but it must be pretty special event to witness. The incredible chill in the air of the church chased us onwards into the Norfolk countryside and the itinerary Ian and Jill had planned for the day. Off we tootled to the Reedham vehicular chain ferry across the River Yare, the last of these types of ferries and the only crossing point between Norwich and Yarmouth thus saving users a journey of 30 miles. Although the plan was to enjoy walking the village of Reedham on the northern side we decided it was too muddy and crossed by car doing short walks within the village before returning to a delightful pub lunch in the Reedham Ferry Inn very close to the crossing followed by a necessary stroll along the river to help work off the good meal before heading to a little pup – Mitzi, waiting at home for her walk.

Unsure whether we were going to Surrey or Suffolk, Mona Skehel had clarified it perfectly for us north was – Norfolk and south was Suffolk which not only made perfect sense, it made a difference to our understanding of the Bulge on the map of England. And, we’d heard of The Broads... After all the years of wanting to do a narrow boat trip; within a month we twice have the opportunity. With the Broad Waterways on their doorstep and a most perfect blue domed day made to order via Ian and Jill’s ‘hot line’, the Vivian’s were eager to show us Alex, their narrow boat and gave us a wonderful outing down the River Waveney.

Barely seven months old, Mitzi is already a well trained narrow boat dog ‘smiling’ for the camera as Ian engaged his bow-thrusting device to gently nudge the boat away from the jetty and take us exploring the River Waveney.  

Compared to the Shropshire Union Canal we’d travelled along last month, the Norfolk Broads were very different. To begin with they are tidal; there are no locks to have to open and close; the waterways are a lot deeper, the water a lot cleaner, and having been left in a more natural state, the bank edges are aesthetically appealing. Some bridges were very low and we had to check the tidal gauges before attempting to go under. We were also struck by the long views obtainable over the marshes. Skeletal trees had large flocks of rooks rising out and circling- strange how much more noticeable they are when the trees have lost their leaves. In perfect timing for lunch we turned down a blind ending towards Geldeston village and tied up alongside the open gardens of The Locks, a delightful and popular pub and spent a happy hour there over lunch and a pint of bitter.

As the townscape of Beccles with its detached sixteenth century perpendicular Gothic Bell tower, soaring 97 feet,  came into view to end a fine day out -  Lea popped her head up to say “Pleez don’t stop”!

Interestingly, Horatio Nelson’s mother Catherine Suckling married the Rev. Edmund Nelson in St Michael’s church where he’d been a former curate and not her father’s church in nearby Barsham.  Sadly our wonderful few days with Ian and Jill had come to an end – it had been so good to share family time together after far too many years of silence that we were sad to leave.  An early departure had us taking the circular route around Norwich as we were keen to check on Peter Sladden in Southrepps Hall before we made for home. Into his nineties he had lost his much loved wife, Eve, in February this year.  Despite the odd missed turns we found our way to the front door of the manor house a little too early for unexpected visitors. No sign of anyone other than a gardener up in the Southern Rhodesia Avenue of Tree. He assured Lea, Peter had been up for breakfast and the housekeeper was around. We eventually required his help to locate her and advise we were at the front door. Thankfully the children of long time family friends don’t have to stand on ceremony and we were admitted into Peter’s office despite him being in his dressing gown. Fair enough at his ripe age on a wintery day.  He was delighted to have us call by and we spent a good hour chatting before hitting the road.  Lea ran up the historic avenue to the EG Howman Tree for a quick moment at her parents headstones and then across and back down the other side to Eve’s burial ground. The mound surrounded by pansies and primroses. And, from the immediate avenue trees hung a good many bird feeders with a bench below – no doubt for Peter to rest upon when communing with his wife over a lifetime of memories. Touching! Travelling through the wooded archway of trees via Holt and Kings Lynne, leaves were fast floating down around us putting us in mind of a ticker tape salutation to the advent of winter.

On our return from Beccles, Justine had her father ‘butcher’ the venison into a roast, a stew and fillets to ensure their arrival in her kitchen would appear to be straight from Tesco! From road kill, she apparently produced three deliciously successful meat dishes for her guests that night. Fortunately we had a dinner engagement in Lincoln as Lea would have found it exceedingly difficult to put mind over matter!!!

Andrew Skehel was up from London and as Lea hadn’t seen her ex Kariba pupil (1968) since he was a young lad his parents, Joe and Mona had invited us up to Sudbury (outside Lincoln) for the weekend. Hard to believe this strapping man was the impish freckled face little boy, Lea had imprinted in her head!

The Skehels – Joe, Andrew and Mona

Andrew dashed off after breakfast next day to visit his youngest son, in his last year of school, as it was his birthday. We enjoyed a lazy Sunday with Joe and Mona before departing for Tetney as the last light fell.

We were delighted to receive a phone call from Ruth and Pieter Smith, visiting family in Yarm with hopes they could come and stay the very next day, as they zigzagged gently down England.   Fortunately Justine and Dan are more than accommodating and Lea prepared a bed in the play-room.  A Christmas spree in Castleford at the Junction Outlet Centre, an hour north of Grimsby had been arranged amongst Justine and her friends and her nine seater vehicle enabled Lea and Ruth to jump aboard.  Browsing the shops on a cold and very wet day was a good choice.  The next day we took the Smiths through to Louth and walked the old market town as far as the medieval church of St James with its impressive belfry and spire. It is a striking landmark for miles around and the tallest spire of any Anglican parish church in England. We were able to go inside and garner some of its history. Lea was interested to read before the time of pews, people gathered here to start the Lincolnshire Uprising and the Pilgrimage of Grace, against Henry the VIII’s ecclesiastic changes which resulted in the church being stripped of its wealth. Despite that, it has continued to be a good working church and there was a hum of activity when we stepped in.

Our good time with Pieter and Ruth Smith sadly passed all too quickly.

The last week of November was suddenly upon us. Lea was caught up in a variety of activities amongst which was time at Signhills Academy. Otto had invited her to take part in a group activity amongst all the Year six students. Each group challenged to build the strongest bridge out of identical materials - 8 straws, 4 pieces of paper, sticky tape and a length of string! Add too, a morning at the manicurist with Justine, before she departed for “time out’ in Sardinia with her husband leaving Mom-mom to hold the fort and her husband to pick up the slack when absolutely necessary! Yes, George IS in another ‘space’. He has been there for months totally absorbed in computers (the plural is correct!) using the publishers Blurb, who provided the layout and graphic elements for George to turn our blog into published editions for ourselves; and Justine’s Apple to make i-movies combining songs of Australia and photographs he has taken along the road. 

Three books to date plus one on his adventures with the yellow baboons of Niassa! 

As IF that wasn’t time consuming and dysfunctional enough, Pieter Smith told George about devices used for digitising slides and video tapes and George immediately located them through Amazon and began the process of rescuing our obsolete ‘library’ for posterity. A magnificent job when it is finally achieved but M-E-R-C-Y! Does George have to be quite so single-minded and driven?  

Early mornings, de-icing the car in readiness for the school runs became additions to the privilege of caring for the grandchildren and, on the eve of December, Lea took off to relax with her Weelsby School friends at a dinner party hosted by Jan Slesser.

Recalling the stress and strains of teaching and the support of each other - Marilyn, Liz, Pauline and Ann in the back row with Jan, Rachel and Sally sitting

Lea couldn’t resist a photo with two avid and interactive followers of our Blowing in the Wind blog since the very beginning... Jan Slesser and Sally Souter-Smith.  

Tramping tales for September / October 2012

Tramping in ENGLAND

The flight from Johannesburg to Manchester via Frankfurt was probably the easiest long haul flight we have done in a long while. Aside from having plenty of leg room, the flights went smoothly and easily and our daughter, Justine was waiting at that early hour, to whisk us the two and a half hours home to Tetney, in North East Lincolnshire.

Daniel had wheels waiting for us in the form of a smart little blue VW Polo and before we knew we were back in the swing of an English lifestyle as if we’d never been away.  September soon flipped past with a day spent up in Sudbury, outside Lincoln, visiting our friends, Joe and Mona Skehel; appointments made for medical and dental checks and a happy return to Tuesday’s Senior Movie mornings at Parkway. Before each film starts, the high light of these mornings has to be Mr Parks’ arrival with two sidekicks to present two lucky seat holders with a ‘goody bag’ containing a free cinema ticket and a bag of sweets/ lollies (Lea was a lucky recipient when we went to see the new version of “Anna Karenina”).These men, amuse with their broad northern accented banter as they “try” to recall forthcoming attractions. It’s so delightfully ‘English’ we find ourselves thoroughly enjoying these preliminaries!

Dinner with Matt and Sue Ramsden is always an occasion! September ended with a wonderful family gathering of two brothers, their wives, children along with the Leslie, Begg and Ramsden In-laws and all the dogs.... for a superb Moroccan meal, next door. 

Lea was thrilled to join the Weelsby group for a pub supper-catch up at The Hainton in Grimsby with her past teaching colleagues Jan Slesser, Marilyn Wilde and Rachel Cullum. Sally forgot! As it’d been so long since Lea had driven a car let alone at night, that after the evening out she found herself hyperventilating in the dark lonely car park unable to switch on headlights! Drat VW placing it in such an unlikely spot!  Otto’s eleventh Birthday was an occasion he shared with his brother Roo and friend Joshua in a day at a Skate Park up in Leeds. After all that physical action the boys were glad to return in time for a fine Curry dinner out in Cleethorpes with the family.

Otto cuts his chocolate birthday cake with meringue inside and all covered in marshmallow frosting as per his instructions to his maternal granny “Mom-mom”. 

We’d heard complaints of a wet summer only to find the tail end providing us with most pleasant weather. Dan took his sons camping the first Saturday night after we’d arrived. The three excitedly set off down the paddock, with all their gear attached to backs for a night at the Tetney Blow Holes, a kilometre away. Once, Otto had received equipment for camping amongst his birthday presents, another night out took place.  This time, the three went in the opposite direction across the Tetney golf-course. As a young lad, Daniel had camped overnight in all these places with his three brothers and he hoped his sons would derive the same enjoyment on their own in time, as he had done.

It was such a beautiful evening that Mum and grandparents couldn’t resist strolling across the fairways to see how they were getting on and found the merry campers settled comfortably beside the beck near the 7^th hole!

Since we were last here Westfield Farm has a Jacuzzi installed in the garden. Someone jokingly offered Daniel this monstrous Jacuzzi IF he could get it out of their home without damaging the house! They either underestimated Daniel’s ingenuity or they didn’t want to pay someone to cart it away.

 A beautiful, windless Sunday Lea was prevailed upon to try out the Jacuzzi! She stayed in until she had turned into a prune it was so gorgeous. Getting out was quite another story – bathers appeared to instantly freeze up unpleasantly on a warm body!

A close friendship that began when two young women began their first job in the same firm simultaneously in Bulawayo - led to their children growing up together from birth, despite living in two different cities Salisbury (Harare) and Bulawayo. Even after their mothers died within a month of each other, the second generation continued to pick up on their friendships where-ever they found themselves in the world. This time, Pippa Gammage caught the train from Hereford across to Cleethorpes to share a few days with us.  While George had his scan at the hospital Lea showed Pippa around Grimsby before the trio were able to head out into the Lincolnshire Wolds to find lunch at the Cross Keys Pub in Tetford; owned by two old Rhodesians and full of Rhodesian memorabilia although the flag looks pretty weather beaten. We returned to explore Louth, the latest award winning historical market town until the biting wind drove us out of town.  We called in at Moat Farm and took a wonderfully relaxing swim in John Ramsden’s heated pool- bliss! It rained all night yet contrary to forecast weather, the day cleared and we hot footed it to Lincoln via Sudbury where we nipped in to check on Mona Skehel who’d just had a knee op.   

Beautiful day, beautiful Lincoln! Pippa and Lea pose within the castle grounds with the cathedral in the background.

Lincoln Castle was one of the first to be built by William the Conqueror in 1068 and it has been used as a court and prison for more than 900 years and it is still a working Crown Court today. Although the castle is undergoing massive restorations in readiness for the 800^th anniversary of Magna Carta in 2015, it has been kept open to allow visitors to observe the changes. We delighted in a quiet exhibition hall to view one of the four remaining original copies of the 1215 Magna Cartas (we all learned about in school history lessons!) housed in Lincoln Castle along with one of only two surviving Charters of the Forest from 1217. Even the quaint cobbled streets were a pleasure to stroll along without any pre-Christmas buzz. The Cathedral too, was stress less to look around and we had a thoroughly good time together. Pippa’s last morning was spent walking along the Humber Estuary and Cleethorpes beach before we returned her to the station for her train home.

Justine stands below her abundant grape vine outside the back door. Some went to wine making friends and a Bee Keeper was keen to make grape jelly while George championed insistently for a couple of bottles of grape jam!    

Before the Bee-keeper arrived to take the lot, George picked some for Lea to make jam. Two and a half kilograms were de-pipped and a recipe concocted from a mixture of jam making recipes produced three jars... George and Otto dived in and as the second bottle in as many days came to an end they were begging for MORE to be made.

Come the weekend, it was heads down and looking for pips as another 5kgs of grapes were prepared for jam making.  Jam eaters Otto and Roo were eager to help in the laborious task.

Over the coming weeks the Bee-keeper lost out completely as all three grandchildren helped harvest and prepare another 15kgs of grapes and the jam was still as popular as ever. Our last batch made in November to strip the vine of its last remaining bunches.

Besides bringing up a family, Justine’s life revolves heavily around basketball. As a result of her enthusiasm for the game she has gone all out to introduce it locally. Every week she is out coaching at her children’s school, at a high school and a ladies team in Louth and she plays in a Grimsby men’s team. Some weeks are busier than others, as she is offered specific coaching work or she is asked to referee games.

Matches tend to happen over weekends and we were keen to go and watch Justine in action. Even better, both grandsons, Otto and Roo were playing for Signhills School against a team in Louth.

Good match, good win as Signhills (in blue) post a vital basket. Kiki can’t wait to start her basketball training after the half term break and join her brothers in the team as soon as possible.  

Misfortune struck late at night with Justine tearing her calf muscle during a match practise with the Grimsby men’s team. Daniel and Lea had to go and rescue her during the period of a three day long fog blanketing north east Lincolnshire. With Dan driving Justine’s vehicle home, Lea didn’t enjoy driving back in such nasty conditions. Next day George taxied Justine to the doctor and hospital for an ultra sound assessment while Lea took the children to school and saw to the domestic front. Justine was told to rest and keep her leg up for at least a week.  All in her favour bar missing out on a match that night, she could rest up without a conscience and her parents waiting on her hand and foot, as half term was coming up freeing her of basketball commitments.

We were suddenly aware that AUTUMN was upon us – leaves were falling fast and the kids had fun raking up banks of yellowed leaves which Kiki threw to the wind!

Half Term and long in advance, we’d booked a family adventure on a narrow boat. Putting together the right trip at the right price on the right days had proved pretty time consuming so you may imagine our dismay when the a call came telling us “Bridie Bear” had been damaged and out of commission the week before our departure. The company could only replace with two unsuitably sized narrow boats. Providentially, another company in Nantwich Marina was able to supply us with a boat from the Tuesday to the Saturday and our spirits soared again.  Only to have our hearts sink hearing a forecast of gale winds and snow for our week – the after effects of Hurricane Sandy currently causing havoc around New York. This created anxiety about the heating system on board and we packed more clothes to deal with wet and freezing conditions...

Narrow boating was a first for us all and the car was packed the night before for an early departure on hearing from the Marina we could have the boat any time we wanted on the Tuesday and not at the allotted 3 o’clock. A smooth unbroken three hour journey brought us to Nantwich where ‘Llangollen Navigator’ lay ready and waiting.  Wow! Never realized a narrow boat was quite so narrow - George felt quite broad shouldered for the duration of the trip! Never-the-less this 60 footer was most comfortably set out. Although the instructive debriefing on locks and safety sounded quite daunting, with the help of our tutor we were soon underway. Once on the main Shropshire Union Canal he left us to our own devices! 

The canal remarkably murky (muddy) and so shallow that upon nearing the sides we found the boat could easily ground and become stuck in the mud. Ducks (mallards), moorhens and swans a plenty and an attractive rural landscape, heavily wooded in some places, on either side. At one spot we saw an otter – plying to and fore across the canal.

Otto fully clothed, nonchalantly paddleboards his way along a waterway, much to the amazement of gongoozlers (on-lookers) in contrast to his grandfather steering the boat with such serious intent. George needed to rebuild his reputation after all too many ‘accidents’ which included giving the dredger a mighty thump!

Locks and Bridges created wonderful photographic opportunities. Forty two bridges curved over the waters between Nantwich and Chester

Having expended nervous energy during that first hour or so we were glad to tie up and tuck into a good lunch at the Olde Barbridge Inn beside the canal. Chugging on, no faster than 4 mph away from traffic noise and in true nomad style we moored up in a peaceful rural stretch of water before the wintery gloaming truly set in, for our first night. Despite the cold night air we were toasty as can be.  A dvd “War Horse” enthralled us all, until droopy eyes overtook us all. In the comfy beds (fractionally on the short side for the likes of us) we positively sweltered! Lea cursed she’d brought such a warm nightie until towards morning, the radiators ran out of power and the chill had us all stirring early.  Lea shot out of bed the moment she heard the engine start up and joined the eager males on the back deck to ensure she didn’t miss the arrival of our first Lock in nearby Bunbury (instructions had sounded such a ‘scary’ procedure to us novices). A double Staircase Lock at that!  Another series of locks were to follow before our second day was done  – the Tilstone Lock, the Beeston Stone Lock (not too far from the remains of a 14^th century castle built by the Earl of Chester in 1937 perched on top of the only hill we could see  and Wharton’s Lock. Daniel and the boys did all the opening and closing of the locks (closing the rack and pinion operated gate paddles with a windlass, shoving against the long balance beams) while George drove in and out of each lock chamber, not without a little bumping, crashing and scraping while the boat sank between the walls of the surprisingly deep chambers.



Walking the tow-path beside the canal was quite the most enjoyable exercise.  The kids periodically rode their bikes and we all learnt to go ahead and prepare the next lock. 

We’d been warned that boating was a slow process but as we all got the hang of it we found ourselves making good time despite slight delays due to dredging taking place and of course when George felt he had right of way and two other oncoming narrow boats knew they had right of way created a hazardous moment with George crashing into the dredger. Daniel could see that coming and captured it on video for posterity!

Autumn proved to be a glorious season to roam the waterway. We could stop at will; we enjoyed wonderful rural and village vistas with little concern for traffic and we slipped through locks with ease.  This brief experience led us to believe summer peak season could easily be hell on water for the likes of us. 

 From Egg bridge (in Waverton) to the pretty village of Christleton, we all left the skipper in peace and contemplation, and enjoyed a brisk walk before deciding the area alongside The Cheshire Cat, a “canal-side hostelry” would be a good place to spend the night and once Llangollen tottered in we all relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. As darkness set in, Dan and Lea took Otto, Roo and Kiki on a mythical night search for Alice and the white rabbit to expend pent up energy before settling in the Cheshire Cat Pub between roaring fires and a lovely atmosphere, for a drink while our own supper cooked on the boat.

Contrary to the weather forecast for Thursday we awoke to a blue sky with soft mists rising off the water. However, Dan and George found ice on the back deck when they untied, ready to steam on down the canal in the knowledge we wanted to spend some hours wandering around Chester and there were five locks to get through beforehand. Thoroughly rugged up against the biting cold, we could see the picturesque spires of Chester for a brief period before water levels dropped us downwards.   

We found a narrow boat waiting at the first of the locks. This was a test of the skipper’s mettle to park along side it within the confined cavern. With an experienced couple beside us, we soon learned new tricks and were through all the locks quickly.

We found no parking problems on the very edge of this beautiful Roman walled city of Chester – we left Dan to turn the boat in what is called a “winding hole”, while the rest of us dashed off. Justy taking three excited children on a ‘shopping spree’ while George and Lea did a speedy reconnaisance through the shopping precinct.

An enthralling city that rose from the ashes on numerous occasions as a result of its battle ground history dating back to William the Conqueror.  

Passing many half timbered houses and views led us to Grosvenor Museum, full of old fashioned displays in a musty old building where only the photographic story with clear concise historical information on Chester through the ages appealed to us in the short time we had available. We’d love to return to this city as time was just too short.  By mid-day ‘Llangollen Navigator’ was heading home. Such a lovely bracing day, Justine and Lea walked the tow path leaving the men to chug along the canal. Again, with a couple of narrow-boat enthusiasts heading in the same direction, they “saved water” by sharing the locks. Just as well, as going upstream was a very different experience as the boat was thrown around by the incoming water as each lock filled, rather than emptied. Happily trudging along, Justine and Lea were surprised to find themselves outside the ‘Cheshire Cat’ quite quickly. We were to tie up here for the night and eat in ‘Cheshire Cat’ pub. Daniel rowed in on the paddle board a bit later followed shortly after by George and the kids. Having reached the ‘Cheshire Cat’ earlier than expected we lazed around until dinner time. Sadly no blazing fires and even the meal didn’t come up to scratch- Timing so easily makes or breaks an occasion!

12 miles between Christleton and Barbridge and yet, it took us 7 hours! What with  4 locks including the Barbridge Staircase Locks to negotiate; delays were caused by barges carrying spoil; hanging around for other boats including a working boat carrying coal, to get through the locks.

 A very relaxed and confident, but cold, skipper tills his way through the last of the locks.

 Lea chatted to the grey nomad owner of this narrow-boat, as she walked along the tow path while George promptly took a photo of the obvious signs of a permanent traveller by the washing spread across the hedgerow!   

Another example of ‘water tramps’ (in the nicest sense) living a life of freedom! 

 A relaxed Skipper and wife found themselves contemplating a year or two roaming the fascinating waterways of Britain. Perhaps  the Murray River, Down Under, would be another option.

Before we could blink we were home in Tetney and back into the school term.