Remember the Alamo

Where did you get that hat?

Growing up as a boy in the 1950's rarely a day went by without me hearing mention of that famous cowboy Davy Crockett. The Walt Disney film, released in 1955, was big news in the UK and Crockett could be seen on TV on a regular basis, the programme being introduced by refrains of the Ballad of Davy Crockett - was it Tennessee Ernie Ford singing 'King of the wild frontier'? I can't remember, but, knowing the BBC, the version we heard on Uncle Mac's Childrens Favourites at the time was more likely to have been by Max Bygraves.  (Davy Crockett's March was another piece of music altogether.) However this post researches the connection between Davy Crockett and Poplar trees....???? Read on my friend!

I do wish they'd build that bridge!

Yup you've seen this before, it's The Haywain by John Constable - the cottage on the left still exits and is now a tourist attraction. But what no longer exist are the trees in the background. These are Black Poplars (populus nigra) of which very few examples still survive and it's Britain's most endangered native tree. North East Wales is home to a significant number of Black Poplars and there are over 200 mature specimens in the Vale of Clwyd. We recently walked past a stand of around half a dozen by the River Elwy in St Asaph and fine trees they are too.

50 foot tall at least - what do you think Skip?

Here is a healthy mature Black Poplar spotted by a footpath just off the main Ruthin Road in the middle of Denbigh. I'll keep my eye out for more in our neighbourhood! And there's a fine example of an English Shepherd Dog relaxing in the foreground - not many of those in this part of the world either. I was quite staggered to read a recent report with a story about the number of folk in Britain who know so little about trees, or nature in general, to the extent that less than one in five can identify a Hawthorn! Mind you we did have some Merseyside children walking past our smallholding some years ago who were quite surprised to find out that, what they had identified as a breed of dog, were in fact Oxford Sandy and Black pigs!


In the same way that a type of plane tree was planted widely in London (hence the name London Plane) as it was pollution resistant, Black Poplars were planted widely in Manchester a hundred years ago or so. They're not quite the same as our native poplar as they are a subspecies (the Manchester Poplar - populous nigra subsp.betifolia) that has recently been shown to be vulnerable to disease - they've survived the smoke and grime of the last century but are now disappearing fast from Manchester's streets and parks thanks to a nasty little fungus. And many of our limited number of existing native Black Poplars are reaching the end of their lives without being replaced. These glorious poplars (or 'alamo' as they're known in Spanish!) may soon be but a memory.

And here's Constable's famous painting with the poplars edited out -

Still no bridge eh? And no, this is not the River Elwy!

Footnote: Oh yes - about the title of this piece - to avoid (or create) confusion, the Spanish word for Poplar is 'alamo' whereas the Spanish for Elm is 'olmo'! In 1836 the Mexican army besieged the Alamo Mission in Texas (and killed Davy Crockett!) - the Alamo name may have come from the cottonwood trees that grew nearby, cottonwoods being a type of poplar tree. So there you have it!

Friars and Abbots

How did that get there?

This took some finding and we seemed to be going down country lanes in circles occasionally glimpsing towers and turrets in the distance. We eventually tracked it down in the middle of a patchwork of fields; Ross Errilly Friary, a magnificent set of extensive well preserved ruins on the Galway/Mayo boundary. This was a Franciscan community of monks until almost 200 years ago whence it was abandoned. Certainly it seems to have escaped the ravages that many other old buildings have suffered - presumably because nobody could find it! On a fine summer's day it was a very pleasant spot and we were the only visitors apart from a couple of cheerful Irish girls of about 12 years old who seemed to be practicing their mountaineering skills. On a cold winter's night however, it would be rather spooky methinks! One oddity was that there were gravestones littered around the place which were of fairly recent vintage - here's one recent burial portrayed in the foreground of the photo.

Postcard says it's an Abbey - not true!

By way of a contrast, here's an old postcard photo of the Denbigh Carmelite friary, of which there is very little remaining. I thought I'd throw this into the mix as it's literally a couple of hundred metres from our house! It's hidden away down a narrow cul de sac at the back of Townsend builder's yard and I would guess that many of the citizens of Denbigh would have no idea of where this is or that it exists at all. It certainly does not figure in the list of notable buildings of Denbigh. The problem with old ruins in towns is that they have been plundered - they were excellent sources of building stone all nicely dressed and ready to use!

Now this is an abbey as opposed to a friary - not far from us is Valle Crucis at Llangollen which is in a lovely setting. This is a Cistercian abbey (abbey or friary or priory? It depends on what make of monks are living there.) Rather spoilt in a way by all the caravans on three sides but I guess it must pay for the upkeep. This particular abbey actually had central heating (at least the abbot had it in his quarters) - I had thought that Cistercians were the hardiest of the lot! The fact is they were a pretty advanced clever bunch of monks - the Cistercian Abbey at Rievaulx in Yorkshire had an advanced working blast furnace in the fourteenth century - if Henry VIII hadn't had it all dissolved and destroyed the Industrial Revolution might have started two centuries earlier.

Nice photo but the caravans are peeping through from the back on the left hand side. 

The Best of South Derbyshire

And they're off!

Here's me puffing and blowing at the interestingly named Brooksie's Bash Trail Race near Repton in South Derbyshire. This was a warmish 10 mile gallop through fields and woods starting from Foremarke Hall, a nice looking minor stately home which is also the preparatory school for Repton School. My painstaking research has since turned up the fact that one of Repton's alumni was the Olympic champion Harold Abrahams - so in hindsight I think it's odd that they didn't play the Chariots of Fire theme music during our run! Still I managed to get round in 78 minutes which I thought should bag me a V65 prize - but no! In the rarefied atmosphere of old age running, age groups are hotly contested but I found there was no V65 category and I was beaten into second V60 by a local runner (who had only just turned 60! Drat - must try harder next time!)

The bar at the dog-friendly Burnt Pig.
Give us a scratch!

South Derbyshire is quite different to the northern part of the county, the Peak District doesn't go that far down. It's all a bit post industrial with not much regeneration and Ilkeston, where we stayed, is a case in point. However one very fine example of regeneration is the Burnt Pig, a new pub which recently opened up at the end of a row of old terraced cottages on a side street near the town centre. It's well worth a visit and you're lucky if you get a seat most evenings, you won't get a seat at all on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday as they don't open then! A special feature of the pub, apart from the superb beer, is the case of extra large pork scratchings (seen in the photo behind the Citra pump.) I'm sure there's a connection between the scratchings and the pub name. Anyway Simon, the enthusiastic landlord sells tons of them.

During our visit we actually stayed in Kirk Hallam which is on the urban fringe of Ilkeston, it's a fairly unremarkable suburb composed of a series of housing estates from the middle of the last century. However the town planners had the foresight to retain Kirk Hallam Lake as a wildfire sanctuary. It's right in the middle of the village and it attracts large numbers of birds including Swans, Canada Geese, Greylag Geese and various ducks, coots and moorhens. Most of these species breed around the lakeside so at this time of year it's quite congested. The local residents are justifiable proud of their good fortune in having all this nature in their backyards and here are a couple of the visitors:

Honk, honk!

Irish Ramblings

Is that where we're going?

And here's that mountain! Nephin is historically one of the 12 chief mountains of Ireland. Goodness knows why 'cos it's in the middle of nowhere in the Mayo countryside. This photo was taken last year when you could see the route from the start. Race HQ is in a narrow country lane - forty of us jumped over a barbed wire fence to the start - a not quite so wet area of the field in the foreground. This was my fourth time of running this race and this year, as with the first time when several of us got hopelessly lost, Nephin was shrouded in mist. There are no paths or trails and you have to follow the right hand ridge up traverse the summit ridge and descend on the left hand side. Thankfully I managed to get round without any diversions and won a bottle of ale brewed in the village up the road. It's a wonderful race - pure fell running with nearly 800 metres of climb in the first couple of K's. We will visit again!

A valuable cargo!

We stayed in Ballina, Co. Mayo, which is a bustling little town and we were lucky to be able to be present for the beginning of the Salmon Festival. Not that we saw any freshly caught salmon but we did find the town thronged with craft stalls - it was heritage day and all the tinkers and wood carvers from miles around descended on the main streets. Of course there was a funfair and other attractions included the traction engines, Irish country dancing, including tap dancing and lots of competitions including a draw for a substantial supply of peat turf for the living room fire. I didn't have a tow bar so I didn't see any point in laying out 5 Euros for the local hurling club. A quick trip up the coast took us to the Ceide Fields where 5000 year old dry stone walls, but not much else, have been found up to 9 feet under the bog - and we had a nice cup of tea in the visitor centre. Just to round things off didn't we both just enter the Ballina Salmon 5K in the evening? Entries were taken in Rouse's Bar - what a fine pub with the draught version of Jack the Lad, which was the local ale that I'd had a bottle of following the Nephin race!

I'll have a drop or two!

Red Devils!

Almost there - phew!

Dashing through the streets of Brecon at the end of Stage 15 of the Welsh Castles Relay, looks good but it wasn't good really. I'd been up in the night with a heavy cold and maybe should have pleaded for someone else to take my place. However it was a nice day for it. That's knocked me out for the week!

On the two stage journey back from Rome we caught a Brussels Airlines jet into Manchester. This is the brightly painted plane - a one off to commemorate the Belgian national football team. Very appropriate for a return to the home of the Old Trafford Red Devils. (And of course the Salford Rugby League 'Red Devils".)

Not the best photo but it was the best beer we'd found in Rome. There are some microbrew bars in Rome but we were on the north side of the city and well away from the nearest. However the street cafe that we repaired to for refreshment after slogging the tourist sights had a fridge full of interesting bottles so we tried a couple. The Hophead IPA was made in Germany at the renowned Bitburger Brewery, seemingly still independent, and very good it was! The beer on the left of it was from the small Lancelot brewery in Brittany - this was a tasty stout like beer, but what struck me was the name, Telenn Du. I knew that Du is the Welsh word for  black and, on returning home, I found that Telyn in the Welsh for harp. So here is a bottle of Black Harp in the Breton translation!