A Spartan Hero

Visiting Northern Ireland again to catch up with the wee grandsons we approached our George's house from an unfamiliar direction. On a twisty narrow road in the middle of nowhere we came across this small unprepossessing church. It's not of particular architectural merit compared with many we've seen lately and it's not of recent vintage being was built in 1755 by a Moravian priest who needed somewhere for his flock of 80 parishioners. The nascent Moravian congregation dwindled however and, by 1834, the church was in a poor state of repair. Enter Basil Zula, a senior army officer from the ancient Greek area formerly known as Sparta, he was on the run from the Turks following a 19th century Greek revolution. Basil was lucky enough to meet a young Irish girl who could converse in Greek. The Irish girl Ann, was a Moravian worshipper and she and Basil took on the task of rebuilding the church. What's more Basil married Ann, he was ordained a minister and the congregation thrived - it's still going strong and we watched some of the parishioners arriving on this fine Sunday morning. Back in the 19th century Basil had clearly not shaken off his concern that the Turks might come after him even in this remote  part of Northern Ireland as he incorporated secret passageways and hiding places in the church and attached rectory. Furthermore in his spare time Basil built a series of impressive earthworks  between the roadside and the church buildings. This was what caught our eye as we were driving past. This curious arrangement consists of mounds around 15 feet high with valleys and bridges connecting them - these represented the landscape where the ancient Battle of Thermoplyae was played out. This was clearly a scale model but Basil must have looked wistfully out of his window and imagined the mighty tussle taking place!

300 Spartans held back the might of the Persian army

On our visits to Northern Ireland we always aim to go for a parkrun that we've not done before and over the years we've ticked off most of the events in the Belfast area. We've done the attractive sounding locations such as Stormont and Hillsborough Forest and we're now picking out the remaining few. Orangefield Park didn't sound too exciting but it had to be done. I knew it was in a fairly run down area of the city and as we approached it things looked a bit grim. However we were pleasantly surprised by the extent of the parkland we found between the old housing estates. The route, as shown on the map, weaves around the undulating Orangefield and Greenside parks which are part of a 'greenway' which links the city centre to the outer suburbs allowing walkers and cyclists to roam on a traffic free corridor. And so at 9 am an enthusiastic crowd of just over 100 made their way round the course. A fine way to start the weekend!

Middle of Somewhere!

There's a small town near Solihull in the Midlands called Meriden and for a long time this was held to be the centre of England. However the Ordnance Survey in 2020 made some new calculations - which in fact anyone can do without the aid of maths skills. Basically all you have to do is make a cardboard cutout of a map and find the point where it will balance on the tip of a pencil. This in geometric parlance is defined as the 'Centroid' and the OS found that England's centroid is in a field in Leicestershire.  (The Centroid of the UK is in the middle of Morecambe Bay - there's a thing to ponder on!) The place name Meriden comes from the Old English for 'pleasant valley' and it's only coincidental that the the town's location is somewhere in the middle of the country. However the somewhat similar word 'Meridian' is certainly connected to the middle of something as it comes from the Latin word for Midday. And so, at around midday, we stood on the Meridian line in the middle of Louth in Lincolnshire. Any place on the Meridian Line, as any schoolboy used to know, has a longitude of zero. Following a Saturday parkrun round the pork pie metropolis of Melton Mowbray we had headed up for a short break in Louth, an unspoilt market town somewhat off the beaten track but bang on the line that heads north from Greenwich (as illustrated in the above chart.)

Gather whats you might well ask!

Louth is full of little ginnels or alleyways connecting the various ancient streets, here's one called Gatherums, we also came across others called Paradise Smoot and Kitkat which all seemed to lead towards what was formerly a rather disreputable part of town called Aswell Hole. This is the site of an important spring which provided a water supply for the fulling industry. Fulling was a medieval process for cleaning wool ready for weaving and you can imagine the Lincolnshire Wolds sheep farmers bringing fleeces to market many years ago. These farmers might well have also refreshed themselves with the products of the breweries located close to the spring. We took a walk along Gatherums and found a plaque in the pathway delineating the Meridian Line - here we were at Longitude Zero - what excitement! 

Poor Thomas!

 Here's a fine view up West Street  towards St James Church which  happens to have the tallest steeple on  an English medieval church. And an  imposing church it is too with fine  stained glass windows one dedicated to  one Philadelphus Coltman who lived to  the ripe old age of 89. St James was  where the Lincolnshire Uprising began  in 1536, this was a protest against  Henry VIII's suppression of the  monasteries and eventually 40,000  demonstrators marched to Lincoln  (that's a lot of sheep farmers!) The  rising was put down by the military and  the ringleaders were arrested. As a  teenage boy I frequented a fish and  chip shop in our village run by a couple  called Tom and June. June and her  assistant chatted away every evening  to the post pub crowd who came in for their pudding and chips, whereas Tom didn't say much. One thing that I did hear him say, very authoritatively, on several occasions was "They never hung a Thomas!"  which I remembered for many years. Various Thomas's were despatched in medieval times using a number of traditional methods, Thomas Cromwell lost his head, Thomas Cranmer was burned at the stake and, as we found out in deepest Lincolnshire, Thomas Kendall, the vicar of Louth was hung at Tyburn for his part in the uprising!

We didn't confine ourselves to Louth itself despite it's wealth of attractions. It's about half an hour to the coast from Louth and we took a trip down quiet country lanes to Mablethorpe, an ice cream and amusement arcade seaside town surrounded by caravan parks. Several miles north along the coast road we took Skip for a walk into a vast nature reserve. In the midst of the huge area of marshland and beaches we spotted the remains of a battle tank (marked on Google Earth!) which is apparently a bit of a tourist attraction. Well we did find one other visitor there who told us she regularly walks her dog here. I found out later that the skeleton was of a Comet tank which was the predecessor to the Centurion tank, this particular one had been used as target practice by the RAF! So in brief this was an eventful trip full of unexpected surprises, if you want to find a corner of England that seems to have not quite made it into the 21st Century try Louth. We enjoyed the peace and quiet and the unspoilt town centre (and the pubs!)

On the hunt for rare butterflies

 

Here's a pretty little thing, it's a Pearl Bordered Fritillary and there are a bunch of them breeding prolifically in the hills of south Denbighshire. More specifically the location of these butterflies is Eyarth Rocks at Pwllglas near Ruthin, here is a limestone pavement of rock on top of a hill overlooking the Vale of Clwyd.

It's the perfect habitat for butterfly colonies as it happens, the key ingredients being bracken for cover and in the understorey, violets for the caterpillars to feed on; the exposed limestone absorbs the warmth of the sun and retains it over night - thus they have food, shelter and central heating. What more do they want? Caterpillars in general are fussy eaters - Fritillary caterpillars are very fond of Violets and the Pearl Bordered Fritillary feeds on Dog Violets in particular which grow well on the Eyarth hilltops. And what did we see today on our winter walk at Pwllglas? Lovely views of the Vale of Clwyd but, alas, no butterflies fluttering by - the earliest sightings are in April.

And what did we see today on our winter walk at Pwllglas? Lovely views of the Vale of Clwyd but, alas, no butterflies fluttering by - the earliest sightings are in April - these early hatchers will be the Small Pearl-Bordered Fritillary, a close relative to the one pictured above. There are, in fact, eight species of butterfly to be found here as listed on the right - it must be a magnet for lepidopterists. We'll have to join them in the spring!

D Duck the famous American lepidopterist!

 

And back home in January!

 

Hold him down otherwise he'll blow away!

There we were at the summit of Tegg's Nose just outside Macclesfield. Cold and windy it was too, somewhat of a contrast to the warmth of down under. But, as we were in the vicinity and it was lunchtime, we called in to the cafe near the top and then took a walk around old haunts. It's an impressive hill, even more impressive if you're running up the big climb in the Tegg's Nose Fell Race which I've managed half a dozen times in the past. It's a real old fashioned event held in conjunction with the Langley Sheepdog Trials and the race was usually started by the local MP Nicholas Winterton (who claimed to have run it himself in younger days.) The views from the peak are   spectacular and, on a clear day, you can see Welsh mountains in the far distance.

We're back running in a somewhat colder climate now and, taking advantage of a trip to the Midlands to say goodbye to Jane (emigrating down under!) we nipped over to Nottingham to do the Wollaton Hall parkrun. Two weeks ago we'd been warned about the possibility of snakes on the course but today the race director drew our attention to the hazards posed by galloping deer! The previous week a large herd of deer had crossed the path of the parkrunners and they just had to wait, you wouldn't want to get in a tangle with a Red Deer stag - they can weigh well over 30 stone! Wollaton Hall is a fairly grand stately home built by a 16th century coal magnate in an imposing position on top of a hill four miles from the 

That's the Joker peeping out from top left.

centre of Nottingham. And the jolly parkrun marshals sent us up that hill to run past the front door of the mansion, down the hill on the other side and back up and down again. All good fun on a Saturday morning. This magnificent Elizabethan building featured in a scene from The Dark Knight Rises, a Batman film from a few years ago. Entitled Wayne Manor this was depicted as the home of Batman complete with butler (Michael Caine of course!) There's a twist to the tale, just a short drive away just beyond the suburbs of Nottingham lies the village of Gotham which lent its name to Gotham City, the fictional home of Batman!

2023 - this is the year!

 

First parkrun of the New Year on a humid warm morning, thank goodness they start at 7 am in Queensland! This is the North Lakes parkrun which is held in a sociable suburb of Brisbane some 15 miles north of the city. North Lakes was created as a new town less than 20 years ago and it's now a busy little place as evidenced by the 200 or so runners who gathered for a merry jaunt three times round the parkland that surrounds the lake. The huge shopping centre has all the big stores including an IKEA. And that's just about all I can find to say about North Lakes, there's nothing much going on of note part from the fact that some of the residents were upset about three years ago about plans to close the golf course and develop it as a retirement village.

And a week later we were at the very different Glass House Mountains Conservation parkrun, a lovely low key off road event with the longest parkrun name in the world. We parked up alongside a row of cars by the roadside and a small number of us gathered at the start of a little used forest trail - slightly downhill for 2.5K until the halfway point then back up. The leading runners saw a kangaroo bouncing away from them but I wasn't quite fast enough. Then back to Woodford for breakfast at CJ's, famous for their pies and pastries, looking at what they had on offer I would have happily come back here for lunch as well. Technically the parkrun is in the Beerburrum West State Forest Park which is south of the Glass House Mountains District Park so we headed north to the mountain lookout to see the panoramic view of these impressive mountains. They were formed through volcanic activity 26 million years ago, the surrounding sandstone has gradually worn down to leave the harder volcanic plus which form the dozen or so striking present day peaks. On the left of the photo is Mount Beerwah, the tallest mountain at 556 metres, on the right is the pointy peak of Mount Coonowrin - several climbers have been killed and seriously injured attempting to reach the top and access to the summit is now prohibited with spot fines of the princely but odd sum of $431 payable by transgressors. 

Schooners and Pots

A Sydney brewpub, where better to stay?

On my first visit to Australia in 2013, Vicky (who'd visited Oz before) and I stayed at Sydney's Macquarie Hotel, a fairly central old style Aussie hotel that had clearly seen better days. We thought we'd nicked an excellent deal for our stay, but as we struggled up a third winding staircase to a tiny odd shaped room in the roof we began to think twice. Jaded and jet-lagged we dumped our heavy suitcases, gasped for air in the heat and tramped quickly down to the bar. Herewith was the other reason we'd picked this spot, it doubled as a brewpub! Yes the offering was limited but it was tasty and cheap, a request for a pint of Paddo brought a hoppy pale ale, the alternatives were a Darlo which was a dark mild and Potts Porter. We settled down to a couple of pints or was it schooners? (See below!) and life took on a rosier glow. This then was the Sydney Brewery, initially called Schwarz Brewery after the founder, and, at that time, an oasis for decent beer in Australia's largest city. The other two breweries in town were the Lord Nelson, another brewpub which is still going strong, and an early incarnation of a James Squire brewpub known as the King Street Brewhouse, which was down on the wharf. Fast forward nine years and the Aussie craft beer season has changed dramatically.

Sydney Brewery has gone from strength to strength, selling the hotel and relocating half a K away they now brew a big range of modern beers and have expanded further afield with a brewery in the Hunter Valley wine region. In fact not only are there now around 800 breweries in Australia utilising some wonderful modern hop varieties but their creative brewers are coming up with imaginative concoctions such as 'Citrus and Rhubarb Custard Sour' and 'Smoked Chilli Black IPA.' This naming of beer is taken to new heights with the Boatrocker Brewers' 'Flux Capacitor' (something to do with time travel) and a pair of beers called 'That's not a Knife' and 'This is a Knife' both brewed by Alice Springs Brewery at 6.5% and 8.5%. Our Christmas beer selection (which we shared) was this powerful double IPA brewed in Brisbane - see the photo - it's not exactly a session beer. We had a tinnie of it but we might just be going down to the brewery bar at some point!

Last parkrun of 2022 was our second on a Pacific island. A few years ago we took a ferry to do the Clover Point parkrun on Vancouver Island off the Canadian coast. Here we drove over a bridge to Bribie Island which is host to the interestingly named SS Koopa Trail parkrun. In the first half of the twentieth century, before the bridge to the island was built, the passenger steamboat SS Koopa called in four days a week to Bribie Island. Trippers from Brisbane then spent a few hours pottering round the island. Meanwhile a goodly crowd of islanders would swarm up the gangplank into the ship's bar and enjoy a schooner or a pot. There were no licensed premises on the island in those days and SS Koopa's arrival was always awaited with eager anticipation. 

The SS Koopa in its heyday!

And here it is, the definitive guide to the beer measures in different Australian states. Or maybe not, the history of Aussie beer volumes is probably a book worth writing. Brewpubs in particular seem to come up with all sorts of alternative glass sizes. And whereas in the UK you'd generally expect to pay half the price of a pint for a half pint measure, here the smaller glasses work out to be more expensive on a pro-rata basis. Furthermore pints are not so popular in Australian pubs presumably because, in hot weather, beer warms up in the glass fairly fast; hence the universal sleeve for your stubbies and tinnies when you're drinking at the barbie!

A World of Running

Over a slippery stile.

Thought I should get back to doing some of those long fell races that I used to enjoy so much. November sees the umpteenth running of the Penmaenmawr Fell Race referred to those in the know as "The Pen." This was my sixth Pen race in 18 years and by far the slowest, in part due to the very wet conditions but also because of a poor route choice half way round which cost me a few minutes - oh and I wasn't really pushing it! It's eleven miles of steady climbing with a long stretch of high altitude bog trotting - what joy! I followed this up with my fourth go at the Cardington Cracker, a tough eight mile race in Shropshire featuring some fearsomely steep climbs. Here's me climbing a stile towards the end, legs almost finished after the endless uphills. I was happy to complete both events and get prizes for being the first over 70 runner (in fact the only over 70 runner!) A week later I was hoping to have a crack at the Sea to Summit, an uphill half marathon along the Offa's Dyke Path starting on the seafront at Prestatyn. Snow, ice and sub-zero temperatures knocked that one on the head as the wise decision was made to call the thing off. 

Offa was an early King of Mercia an early middle ages monarch who built an earthwork barrier to keep the Welsh out of England (or was it the other way round?) The Offa's Dyke Path runs southwards for 177 miles from Prestatyn in the north to Chepstow on the Bristol Channel. Our half marathon route ranges over the Clwydian Hills in Denbighshire but what most people are unaware of is that this northern section of the path doesn't follow the line of the ancient Offa's Dyke at all. Some of the remains of the original earthwork can be seen over to the east in Flintshire - if you try to follow that line you'd end up trogging through an industrial estate in Mold. Clearly this would have been not so attractive for visiting tourists and long distance walkers so when the long distance path was mooted some years ago a more scenic line over the Clwydians was decided on.

From a deep and dark December in the Northern hemisphere with its freezing temperatures to the almost tropical midsummer of Brisbane, Australia - what a shock to the system. This was what we encountered at the beginning  of our first trip down under for three years. Even at 7 am, which is the parkrun start time in Queensland, we experienced 22 degrees and sapping humidity. Added to that we took a wrong turn just before we arrived at Warner Lakes parkrun starting 5 minutes late and, being not yet acclimatised to the conditions, I felt I was running through treacle. As with our recent parkrun experiences in Southern Africa we noticed far more parkwalkers than we would normally see in the UK - maybe the weather has something to do with this I would respectfully suggest.

Follow the leader? Not really, the real quickies were well ahead!

 And what did Santa  bring us for Christmas  this year? Two park  runs of course! One on  Christmas Eve and one  on Christmas Day.  Here's me leading the  field at Petrie parkrun a  pleasant there and  back gallop through the  Sweeney Reserve,  named for Thomas  Patrick Sweeney who  lived here in a  ramshackle hut with his  family. They kept emus and kangaroos and had a refreshment kiosk serving fruit and soft drinks. If they'd still been open today they'd have done a roaring trade refreshing thirsty park runners!

Hello back home!

The following day, i.e. Christmas morning, we toed the start line with a couple of hundred other early birds for a parkrun along the Enoggera Creek at Kelvin Grove, Brisbane. A local running club had elected this as their Christmas run and most of the fast first dozen or so finishers were wearing distinctive pink running vests. The course was fairly flat and sheltered by leafy trees some of them containing large colonies of roosting bats with their distinctive pong. Here's a photo of us with our distinctive post race smiles (grimaces?) together with another parkrunner - he explained delightedly to us that he's going to be in the UK in a year's time and is looking forward to a White Christmas - what do you think are the chances of that?