On the loose

I had checked his oil and tyre pressure, cleaned his grubby little windscreen and polished up the worst of his rusty spots, so Trusty Rusty was ready for the road again. One final check of camping gear and we were off, heading steadily north towards Llanberis. The General Election was but a few days away so I decided to count the signs supporting the various candidates and parties which decorated the road verge. I gave up at Machynlleth, the result was beyond any doubt: Labour 3, Liberals 4. Conservatives 2, Plaid Cymru 57. It was clear that Plaid Cymru were going to achieve a mighty landslide result throughout the country, although I have to concede that maybe my sample was little biased! I arrived in Llanberis about 5pm. A grand 50 year reunion had been arrange, with 3 of the former occupants of the first flat I lived in while studying in Glasgow in 1974.  My old school mate, Dai Lampard, and I had set off for Glasgow from the wilds of west Wales in September of that year. There we s

  Monmouth and beyond After a reasonable night's sleep, I was awoken at about 4.45am the following morning by a very inconsiderate blackbird. A really vibrant dawn chorus soon developed as I stretched my stiff limbs and began to break camp. Suddenly a dog appeared from a hidden side path and was rapidly followed by a young man who,  considering the climb up from the town below,  looked far too sprightly for that time of day. We were both a little surprised to see each other and after a brief conversation I continued to load the rucksack, eat some porridge and set off  again, following him  along Offa's path . I soon discovered a strange building which was marked on the map as a "Naval Temple". I had ascended 'The Kymin", which at around 800 feet was the highest hill in the immediate vicinity. The early morning views down to Monmouth below and onwards to the Welsh Hills were hazy in the morning mist. And the sound traffic was unmissable as the town below came

The sun has been shining recently, as it should in June but the jet stream is still very confused and a strong northerly breeze means it is  bitterly cold most of the time. As nothing in the garden seems to be growing, I decided it was ideal walking weather and grabbing Sticky McSticky, I jumped into Trusty Rusty, and set off for a few days, planning to join a few more dots along Offa's Dyke. A few day's before had seen one violent thunderstorm, with an inch of rain in one afternoon, but generally the weather has been cold but sunny; my vegetable garden was planted, the trees were bursting forth and the little birds was on the wing. It can't last, I'm sure a plague of frogs is just over the horizon, and speaking of which, the PM chose that moment to announce a General Election. And apparently the finances of the country have now reached such a sorry state, that we could not afford to furnish him with an umbrella! He got soaked in the torrential downpour and Rishi got mo

..... And of grey clouds there has been no shortage ! The 'Oaks are out before the Ash', which in Celtic mythology means we will 'only get a splash'; so we are all anticipating a very dry summer here in west Wales. But I'm not sure that this ancient lore works when nearly all the Ash trees are dead because of an epidemic of Ash dieback. ( https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/trees-woods-and-wildlife/tree-pests-and-diseases/key-tree-pests-and-diseases/ash-dieback/ ) Sadly. we have several dead Ash trees down Rooseferry Road, which will need felling this summer. And while Ash makes great firewood it is sad to chop down trees that have been here for several hundred years, trees that I have walked past since my childhood. I recently counted the rings on a small oak that had come down over the winter - 120 years old. By that benchmark there are several oak trees in our woodland that are hundreds of years old. But it is undoubtedly time to sharpen the chain saw, before overha

This was written in October 2022 but never got posted. My last post was in mid August - and I've just updated that a little. Much has happened since then but not much worth writing about. I'm now back in my wonderful Wainui home but inevitably, feeling a little hiraeth for family and friends back in Wales. Every morning the Bellbirds wake me at six: they have a beautiful melodic song but they are pretty loud, especially when their number one food source is the orange tree, which is festooned with beautiful blossom, near my bedroom window. I spent a few days in North Wales in early September. Travelling with my faithful companions, 'Trusty Rusty" and "Sticky McSticky", I made my way steadily north, occasionally dropping down to second gear as the steeper hills approached. I called into the little church at Eglwys Fach, not for any religious reasons you understand,  but si mply because I had driven past it too many times before. RS Thomas (you'll find him m

I have arrived back in Wales with the usual difficulties of the transition from the wonders of Wainui to a cold, wet Welsh climate, which have seemed particularly troublesome this time. The flight itself was uneventful, via Vancouver this time which, in theory at least, makes for a short second flight. As we waited on the runway, with take off pending any second, the Captain informed us that there was a medical emergency and that we had to return to our gate. Paramedics were on board in seconds and after a suitable assessment, a person, hopefully still alive, was removed from the plane. We were thus over an hour late taking off but with some considerable assistance from the jet stream, which was dutifully delivering arctic air to the UK, we still made good time to Heathrow.  I had a bus booked to Cardiff at 3.30pm so it was a case of baggage bingo as I waited next to the conveyor for my bag to arrive; it was 3.15pm and tension was mounting! But I got lucky and sprinted(Ok, walked brisk