Friday 31 May 2013

Royal Red Flag to a Republican Bull!

Today we had the above letter from Prince Charles under his title of His Royal Highness Charles Philip Arthur George, Duke of Cornwall and Rothesay, Earl of Chester and Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles and Great Steward of Scotland. Actually, between us we had four identical letters from Prince Charles under his title of His Royal Highness etc...

And what was this letter about?  It refers to an application by Prince Charles (under his title of His Royal Highness etc...) to register his ownership of the mines and minerals in the Manor of Stoke Climsland in which our property lies. By way of explanation, sometime in the mid 1300s the Duchy of Cornwall took upon itself to claim all the mineral and mining rights in Cornwall. These passed into law in 1846 following the passage of the Duchy of Cornwall (No 2) Act in 1844. This means that Prince Charles (under his title of etc....) has the right to mine and extract minerals from our property. We've always known this and it's a feature of living in Cornwall.  So why the letter now?  The Duchy has said it is having to officially register its ancient rights as part of a new drive by the Land Registry to record all mineral rights by October 2013. "The Duchy of Cornwall is having to register its mineral rights with HM Land Registry in order to preserve them for the future," a Duchy spokesman has said "This does not mean that the Duchy has any intention at this time to work the minerals. The Duchy has owned these mineral rights for many centuries - it is simply a case of the Duchy registering its existing rights." Well, that's alright then. No, it certainly is not.

We are given two options. Give our consent, in which case we can tell them by e-mail. Or we can object, in which case we have to register our objection in writing, giving chapter and verse of the legal basis of our objection and proof that we own the property in question. Not that they want to make it difficult to object, of course. My first reaction to the letter was one of surprise (why now?) followed very quickly by quiet outrage.  This is 2013 and something so archaic and feudal has absolutely no place in a so-called modern democracy. This point will be the basis of my objection.

The Duchy of Cornwall enjoys a curious variety of rights. Some of them might be regarded as “charming” by some but many are the source of real economic benefit and give the Duchy a privileged position with regard to both the creation and application of law. To we republicans, it is unarguable that the Duchy should be subject to greater public scrutiny and stripped of its privileges.  Until that happy day dawns, oi, Charley Boy, get orff my lawn!


I say, chaps, wouldn't it be spiffing if we started digging in the middle of the Parsons' lawn?
 
Such japes! Time to don one's Bob the Builder's hat.


Tuesday 28 May 2013

Don't you just love the CAPTCHA box?


One of the banes of my on-line life is the CAPTCHA security system. You know, those little boxes you often have to complete in order to prove that you are a human being and not a robot. CAPTCHA, just in case you were blissfully ignorant of the fact, stands for Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart, the Turing being Alan Turing the pioneer of computing and the originator of the so-called Turing Test to detect artificial intelligence.
 
I might not like them but I can fully appreciate why they are so popular. I do think, however, that there is a crying gap in the current market place for an arbitration service for use at times when there is a dispute between a user and a
CAPTCHA dialogue. Let me give you some examples of what I mean. The code on the top left is easy to decipher: 'overlooks' and 'inquiry'. But what about what appears to be in the majority? The other day I was commenting on a
blog post and was faced with the CAPTCHA dialogue illustrated here. I typed in 'bedagandmi' and the wretched thing said I was wrong and offered me another silly pictograph to interpret. I shouted back that I wasn't wrong and that the CAPTCHA machine couldn't read its own writing. This went on for some time until we reached a stage of deadlock and I went off to sulk. Clearly, what is needed in these circumstances is an independent arbitrator who could settle such disputes - for a small fee, of course. I would therefore like to use this opportunity to announce the launch of my new service: CAPTCHAUSIFYOUCAN.COM If you find yourself in an argument with a CAPTCHA dialogue, just take a screenshot of the dialogue and send it to me along with your interpretation and a Paypal transfer of £5. I will e-mail you a decision by return and my decision will, need I say, be binding on both parties.
 
Incidentally, the wheelchair logo to the right of the box above is not for wheelchair users but is, in fact, the audio version of the phrase. Have you ever tried using these? I'm not sure for whom this feature is designed but if you think the number words are absurd, click the audio icon and try to decipher the same numbers and words as spoken by a broken tape recorder! It will make you weep.
 
And finally. People of a certain age will have thought "Captchausifyoucan? That sounds familiar". Indeed it does. Who remembers the Dave Clark Five? All together now, snap your fingers and..............
Here they come again, mmmm-mm-mm
Catch us if you can, mmmm-mm-mm
Time to get a move on, mmmm-mm-mm
We will yell with all of our might!
[Dave's drums kick in right now]
Catch us if you can ...
 

Wednesday 22 May 2013

RIP: Trevor Bolder

Yet another player on my soundtrack of life has gone. Today we heard that Trevor Bolder has died.  Trevor Bolder? Who he?  OK, not a household name but he was a member of the greatest imaginary band ever to walk the stage - the Spiders from Mars. He also sported the best pair of sideboards ever seen in the rock world!

He played bass for David Bowie from 1971 to 1973, appearing on four legendary albums, Hunky Dory, The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, Aladdin Sane and Pin Ups. You can hear his bass lines at their best on Bowie's classic The Jean Genie (clip below). 
You might not know his name but if you are a rock fan, you'll know his bass lines. Enjoy the music and Trevor's sideboards!


Tuesday 21 May 2013

RIP: Ray Manzarek

Sad to hear of the death of Ray Manzarek today. As the keyboard player in The Doors he is/was a very important contributor to the soundtrack of my life. Of course, much is made of his role in The Doors but I'll always remember him for a staggeringly different piece of music. And that's his 1983 collaboration with Philip Glass for a version of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. Not what you'd expect from the co-writer of 'Light my Fire', 'The End' and 'People are Strange'. But very enjoyable and my route into the appreciation of Orff's masterpiece.

Sunday 19 May 2013

A Saturday walk around Burrator

Where on Dartmoor can you find three Rajahs, evidence of bull fighting, a holy well, the setting for some scenes from War Horse, two ancient granite crosses and a Pua Kumbu? Sheepstor, that's where and we passed through it on our 8 mile walk on Saturday just gone. And guess what? We had blue skies, sunshine and fantastic visibility all the way around.  Here's the route:

*  We started at the Quarry Car Park just before Burrator Reservoir and from there we headed down the footpath to Meavy, crossing Drake's Leat (taking moorland water to Plymouth since 1650 or thereabouts) on the way.
*  From Meavy we negotiated the stepping stones over the River Meavy and headed to Sheepstor, via Yeo Farm and the Bluebell bedecked Burrator Wood. Not quite at their prime but not far off.
* Sheepstor is an interesting place.  A village in name but really no more than a small hamlet. It's strange that three generations of the Brooke family, the last Rajahs of Borneo, are buried in the graveyard. On the church walls hangs a large Pua Kumbu, a ceremonial blanket from that part of the world. In a field next to the church are the remains of a bull fighting ring in the shape of a granite block with an inset iron ring to which the bull was tethered. The War Horse connection? Several scenes were filmed around Sheepstor but, but all accounts, you'll need to really know the area to be able to recognise them.
*  From the hamlet, we ascended Sheepstor itself by the most direct (and steep) route.  But the view from the top was worth the effort. A full panorama, with views stretching as far as the Eddystone Lighthouse, maybe 25 miles away. It's not often that we are able to see this far.
*  From the top we dropped down acrossYellowmead Down and walked along the Deanscombe Valley to Norsworthy Bridge. From there it was a short climb up to the Devonport Leat, which contoured more or less back to our starting point. It was ice creams all around when we reached the end. A hot walk but a good one. Is this the start of the warmer weather when thermal underwear and waterproofs are abandoned for a while? Probably not!

Just to show that we do get blue skies sometimes.

Bluebells and moss covered rocks in Burrator Woods. And no Spanish interlopers in sight.

The spire of Sheepstor church.

The view from the top of Sheepstor towards Sharpitor and Hessary Tor in the distance.

From Sheepstor looking down on Burrator Reservoir.

Note the carefully placed pile of litter to the right. Why, oh, why do people do this?

After 8 miles, an ice cream is well deserved.

And just to show that I'm not losing it completely, one style and two correct feet.

We hardly ever buy Fairy.........



........because when we run out of our favourite washing up liquid, we do what all these lovely ladies in this advert do. We pay a blonde haired little girl to nick a couple of bottles for us from Tesco's in Callington. We did ask a blonde haired little boy to do this at one time but he used to come back with something silly... like a tin of Heinz Beans or he'd stuff a bar of chocolate down his trousers, which caused unsightly stains and then we'd have to pay the blonde haired little girl extra money to pinch a box of Fairy Washing Powder.

Thursday 16 May 2013

A walk from Bennett's Cross on Dartmoor.

A walk of around 6.5 miles today which had everything that Dartmoor has to offer: Open moorland, tors, Neolithic structures, burial mounds, panoramic views, rabbit warrens, WW2 artefacts, birthday cake (thanks, Hilary!), a mediaeval village, mining in all its forms and rain. We've taken this route before and it's always been an enjoyable walk. Today was no exception.  Brief details are:

*  Start at Bennett's Cross, just passed the Warren House Inn on the Postbridge to Moretonhampstead road.
*  Follow the Two Moors Way around Birch Tor and onto Hookney Tor.

*  Descend to Grimspound Neolithic village/settlement.
*  Ascend to Hameldown Tor and then follow the ridge to Two Barrows.
*  Descend into the Challacombe Valley and head to the mediaeval village of Challacombe.
*  Follow the track through the Vitifer and Golden Dagger Mines and slowly ascend to the starting point at Bennett's Cross.

Well worth doing for the views alone. Despite a few showers, and some hail, the visibility was pretty good considering the conditions.  And now a few photographs to give a flavour of the terrain.


Looking down to Grimspound - around 4000 years old and thought to have been a settlement. the outer wall encloses some 24 hut circles.
 
Looking back up to Hookney Tor, just about 1500 ft high.
 
Is this the right way to wear one of these neck scarves?
 
Don't ask me!
 
A dark Dartmoor sky - luckily this weather front passed us by relatively unscathed.
Watching the world go by and wondering if that cloud above is heading our way.
 
If I don't mention it, someone else will. Got back to the car to take off boots and put on something lighter. Found that I had packed the right feet of two different styles of shoes.  A senior moment?

 
 
 
 
 
 

Monday 13 May 2013

Made in Chelsea wins a prize? Good grief.


Glancing cursorily down the list of winners at last night's British Academy of Film and Television Arts Awards, I noticed the above category. 'Reality and Constructed Factual'? Never 'eard of it. What's all that about?

Apparently it's a new one to recognise programmes where 'participants are placed in a constructed environment or format and filmed interacting in situations devised by producers'. So now we know. I'd put it a slightly different way: Reality & Constructed Reality = Manipulated TV = Crap

If you think I'm being harsh in my judgement, have you ever seen Made in Chelsea? It really is unwatchable - 30 seconds was enough to make my nose bleed. Avoid it like the bubonic plague. Unless, of course, you need something to rant about.

Sunday 12 May 2013

Another dose of melancholia from Charles Bukowski ..........but I like it.

Another poignant poem from Charles Bukowski - Hell is a Lonely Place. Sadly the scenario described is not uncommon and, when you think about it, not an illogical conclusion to a lifetime relationship. What would you do in similar circumstances?

Wednesday 8 May 2013

Power to the People but not when Ruritania comes to town

The State Opening of Parliament today prompted me to root out something I posted in 2013. I think it stands the test of time and is worth rehashing. The only difference this year is that the Queen was unable to attend because of 'mobility issues'.
It's that time of the year again when the issues to be presented to Parliament in the next session are announced and what a weird and anachronistic way to do it. One of the less attractive features of the British is our pathological need to ritualise tradition and today's State Opening of Parliament is a brilliant example of this. A wonderfully over-the-top gothic pantomime of epic Hollywood proportions. The Queen (gawd bless her) processes in state from Buckingham Palace to the Houses of Parliament in a glittering coach, flanked by ranks of the Household Cavalry. In an elaborate ceremony with all the Crown Jewels on display, she reads out a list of government bills from the throne in the House of Lords. Only the British could still be doing this sort of thing in the 21st century! Either us or some tin-pot dictator with galloping delusions of grandeur!

It’s a colourful ceremony of seemingly ancient rituals (but they are not as old as you might think) where all the symbols and offices of the constitution come together under one roof. The Lords gather in their ermine robes and the Commons are summoned to attend in a famous door-slamming ritual played out by Black Rod ((by tradition, the Queen cannot enter the Commons). It is amazing how little things have changed in parliament over the last two centuries! It’s a grand pageant set in elaborate 17th century costumes of wigs, breeches, tights and ruffs. Pure high camp drama. The Crown, the Cap of Maintenance (the what?!), the Dutch Cap of Prevention (I'm sorry, I made that one up. I just couldn't help myself) and the Sword of State make an appearance along with officials with extravagant titles like Garter King of Arms and, a particular favourite of mine, Rouge Dragon Pursuivant! The camp splendour of the royal procession through Parliament is quite a sight. The uniforms, gowns, robes and the Crown jewels themselves are spectacular. More Ruritanian pantomime than serious government procedure.

The Queen finally takes her place on the Throne (titter, titter) in the House of Lords and the Commons file into the chamber. The Tories looking smug and, I'm glad to see, many Labour ministers and MPs appearing suitably bewildered by the occasion. The speech (and it's not any old speech, it's the Gracious Speech and is read from a goat-skin vellum scroll**) is a turgid list of Government business and legislation, prefaced with a regal, “My government will…”. It’s dull and no one pretends otherwise - and what's on this year's menu is duller than most.  As soon as the speech is complete, the Queen and her entourage process all the way back again (no, not backwards - sadly they spoil things by turning around) and the politicians get down to the serious business of making soundbites and point scoring - sorry, I meant to say the serious business of debating.

The one thing you can’t help noticing is how undemocratic the whole thing is. Only a third of those in attendance, the House of Commons, is elected by we plebs. The rest are hereditary or appointed. Within the ceremony, the Commons are conspicuously the least prominent. During the speech MPs (our representatives, remember) crowd in at the back of the room -rather like naughty school children, it's always struck me. Of course, it could be argued that any ceremony that makes politicians stand at the back must be a good thing!

However, there is one element that is totally missing from all of the above. The people. Any government presentation outlining upcoming intentions and priorities should, in the modern world (Hey - it's 2013 already or maybe Black Rod and Rouge Dragon Pursuivant haven't noticed?), be aimed at us, the electorate. Strip away the constitutional flummery and you’re left with a governing party stating what it’s going to do in the upcoming parliament. That’s important, and it should be presented to the people in a clear, unambiguous way. It's weird that a day of such high politics should start with such an archaic royal ritual. How long is all of this going to last. Will we see a radical overhaul at the end of the current reign ? Will a forward looking King Charles scale it down or abolish it all together? Probably not.

OK, so it’s a bit of constitutional glitter that pomp and pageantry junkies (and tourists) love. But does it really add any value to government in the 21st century? Would we not be better off with a State of the Union style speech to parliament and people by the Prime Minister? Isn't that what a representational democracy demands? Isn't that what the electorate deserve?

** I was being a little economical with the truth here. It is not on vellum anymore. It is on "goatskin parchment paper" but, confusingly, it's not actually made from goatskin. However it is very high quality, thick paper, which is why the ink takes several days to dry, and it then needs to be bound into a booklet, before being sent on to Her Majesty for signing. I wonder if she uses joined-up handwriting for this?

UKIP if you want to................and many did.


What should we make of the success of UKIP in the recent local elections? What do I make of it? Well, I'm certainly not getting as excited as the political commentators and I'm trying to keep a reasonable perspective. I can't but help remember the rise and fall of the SDP so I'm of the view that the real consequences will not be clear for a long time. Possibly not until after the next General Election.

I know that indulging in schadenfreude is unbecoming but I must say that a joy for me so far has been the fall out from the remarks made about UKIP before the poll.
Some things just cannot be unsaid and the dismissal of UKIP voters as ‘fruitcakes’, ‘closet racists’ and ‘clowns’ by several senior Tories is one of them. It was wonderful to watch it all blow up in their faces: the Kenneth Clarke outburst followed by the visible gulp, and the cold sweat, as they wondered suddenly ‘what if they actually do take votes from us?’ And then to cap it all, Posh Dave bleating that he was sorry for his comments: “We need to show respect for people who have taken the choice to support this party and we are going to work really hard to win them back.”

To me UKIP policies are fundamentally arch-Thatcherite with a visceral dislike of foreigners and homosexuals thrown in for good measure. Nigel Farage – if he were not in UKIP – would be the perfect embodiment of what I dislike about the Tory Party. Farage is a man motivated by ego, power and greed. Farage is UKIP and UKIP is Farage. I'm sure that this will cause serious problems for the party in the future as any scandal involving Farage could seriously damage UKIP - perhaps fatally. It's time for UKIPPERS to ensure that other talent is encouraged and developed within the party. However, it is so centralised under Farage that this will never happen. UKIP's undoubted success in the polls will further strengthen Farage's control and ensure that his sycophants will remain firmly in place, enjoying, for the moment, the privilege of minor parties in the UK: making promises which are easy to like and impossible to keep – in the sure and certain knowledge you'll never be in power and have to deliver them.

The really big surprise down here in Cornwall, as elsewhere, was the size of the UKIP vote. I'm sure that there were some UKIP candidates who worked hard to get elected but that does not seem to be the case in many electoral wards in our county. I'll quote one example that I'm aware of, Illogan, further west from us. The UKIP candidate, as far as anyone seems to know, had never had anything to do with Illogan, did not deliver a single leaflet and did not knock a single door and yet he ended up with 23% of the vote. I watched a television interview where the newly elected UKIP person was asked what they stood for on local government issues. Basically he didn't have a clue. He said that UKIP councillors were going to ask what their constituents wanted and then represent that. Sounds good but the problem is that when it comes to voting for a UKIP candidate you don't know what they stand for because they don't know themselves until after they have been elected! It doesn't say much for the sophistication of the British voter that they've voted so many of them in.

As well as the tremors shaking the Tories, UKIP's success has made made me rethink my basic political philosophy. I first coined this when I was around 8: Labour good, Tory bad, Liberal funny. Thanks to Farage and his cronies, I've had to change it: Labour good, Tory bad, UKIP worse, Liberal funny.

Monday 6 May 2013

Up the Port!

In my post of 15th April, I posed this question about Newport County football team: Will this be the season when they finally return to the higher echelons of the Football League after so many years of tootling around its lower reaches?
And the answer for all those who are interested is 'yes'. They won their play-off against Wrexham yesterday, 2-0, and gained promotion into Division 2.  Harry Laws would be delighted. Up the Port!

Friday 3 May 2013

Notes from Shetland: Part 6: Finale

Just to tidy up a few loose ends at the end of our stay, I thought I'd include a few shots of the places we visited on Days 2 and 3 that I could not upload earlier. Nothing more to add other than to say that Shetland is well worth a visit.
Puffins at Sumburgh Head. It turns out that we were very lucky to see as many as we did. They were absent on subsequent evenings and, perhaps, those we saw were just 'casing the joint' prior to some serious nesting. The pair above clearly had some pre-nesting activities on their minds!
 
Circular houses at Jarlshof. Stone built with a turf over wooden poles roof. Very thick walls which, if made draught proof, would have given the inhabitants pretty good protection from the elements.
 
The tombolo joining St Ninian's Island to Mainland. Tombolo? That's a ridge of beach material (typically sand over shingle/pebbles/rocks), built by wave action, connecting an island to the mainland. Google 'tombolo' if you want to know about refractive wave action and the dynamics of tombolo formation. 
 
Circular houses at the Scantness Norse Village. Later in age that the houses in Jarlshof shown above. These are called 'wheel houses' as they had rooms coming off a central space rather like the spokes of a wheel. Again with turved roofs.
 
Mousa Broch with my IWC to give some idea of scale. Despite the blue sky, gloves, woolly hat, thermal undergarments and warm clothes were the sensible dress of the day (and every day for that matter!).
 
Inside Mousa Broch. This is dry stone walling with a vengeance. The gaps lead into small rooms and the stairs between the walls.
 
Mousa Broch in a panoramic view of the island and the channel between it and Mainland. Sumburgh Head is way in the distance.
 
I love watching waves crashing over rocks and the way water runs back into the sea.
 
Ruins and birds! Sums up our break on Shetland very nicely.
 

Thursday 2 May 2013

Notes from Shetland: Part 5

Our last full day on Shetland and we were off to the North Isles. We went from Mainland (the largest of the islands) to Yell on a ferry between Toft and Ulsta. From Ulsta we drove the length of Yell, which was all of 12 miles, to get the ferry from Gutcher to Belmont on Unst, the most northerly inhabited island in the UK. Both ferry crossings took less than 30 minutes and were run with the minimum of fuss and the maximum of efficiency. I guess this comes from them being the only way of getting from island to island for most people. And I must not forget that they were cheap! With a discount for OAPs!  Result!

Once on Unst we kept heading north to the Hermaness Nature Reserve right at its very tip. Here we took a fairly challenging moorland boardwalk walk to the cliff tops. What views! What birdlife!  Of particular note were some gannet colonies on some islands/rocks just off shore and the Arctic skuas or bonxies which were nesting in the moorland. Apparently this is one of the best places in the world to see them and they are only around between April and September - we were lucky to see so many.
The boardwalk over the moor at Hermaness, put in place to keep walkers away from the nesting sites of the Arctic skua. A bleak, windy place and, yes, it did rain when we were there.
 
The white patches on the rocks are the colonies of gannets I mentioned. There must be thousands of the birds nesting in this area. Spot the one in the distance looking like a snow-capped mountain. It rejoices in the name of Muckle Flugga. Lovely.
 
The reason why birders come to Hermaness - the Arctic skua or Bonxie. This has the reputation of being one of Britain's most aggressive birds. Get too close when there are chicks around and they will dive bomb you.
 
The wind always blows at Hermaness, or so they say, and it certainly did when we were there. I read somewhere that it holds the record for the strongest gust ever recorded in the UK - 172 mph was logged before the weather recorder was blown away.
 
Whilst on Unst we took the opportunity to visit the most northerly bus shelter in the UK.  Not any ordinary bus shelter, this one has themed decor which is changed regularly and its own website. Take a look at www.unstbusshelter.shetland.co.uk to learn more of the history. When we were there it was decorated on a sheep theme. A wonderful display of British eccentricity. There was more joy when we discovered that it was situated next to the John Peel Memorial Traffic Island. What a great tribute to a great man. You can keep your Nelson Columns and Albert Memorials: this tribute is the best.
More birds spotted on Shetland - this pair were roosting in the most northerly bus shelter in the UK.
 
The John Peel Memorial Traffic Island. If it was not for the rabbits, it would be covered in flowers but......
Lots of most northerlies on Unst. Most northerly point, most northerly bus shelter, most northerly coffee shop, most northerly petrol station etc etc. I even had my most northerly pee but I don't think that one will make the guide books.

After all this fun, we traced our route back across Unst and Yell to Mainland and our B & B, stoping on the way for a rather good meal at the Scalloway Hotel in, errr, Scalloway. Possibly the best megrim sole I've ever had.

 

Notes from Shetland: Part 4

The weather forecast for today was not promising and our Plan A was to spend the morning in the Shetland Museum at Lerwick.  Many people had recommended it as well worth a visit but we got there to find that it would not be open for another couple of hours. Hanging around on a wet Sabbath morning in Lerwick was not particularly attractive so we switched to Plan B (organised or what?) and headed for the north-west corner of the island. Eshaness was the place we wanted: a remote spot with a good walk along the cliffs. We parked at the old lighthouse and followed the cliff edge for a couple of miles or so north. The cliffs were bespeckled with nesting fulmars and the occasional Arctic skua, Great skua and Arctic tern soaring over head. We were lucky enough to get a good view of a raven’s nest, with three fledglings, perched precariously on a ledge about 100 foot above the water in Calder's Geo, a huge cleft cut deep into the cliffs. And then the hail came down! Hail of the small stinging kind. Luckily it didn’t last too long before it was replaced by bog standard driving rain. And this, in turn, was fairly quickly followed by a dry windy spell which was with us for pretty much the rest of the walk. Not unpleasant at all but it was nice to have the thermal underwear on.

As well as the birdlife, the walk had some tremendous views, both seawards and landwards. To our north there was a line of sheer cliffs which must have been 200-300 ft high and stretching for at least a mile. They were catching the full brunt of the rough seas and the waves regularly reached two thirds of the way up.

We turned inland at an odd looking ignimbrite beach (I know what that means but do you?), skirted a lochan (small loch) to reach a blowhole, the Hole of Scraada, set well back from the cliff edge. This results from an underground channel forced through the rocks and emerging inland. Deeply impressive. Thence past three old water mills joined by a leat (but different from the ones we see on Dartmoor in that their wheels worked horizontally rather than vertically. Maybe it was only me that found these interesting?) to an iron-age broch on an islet on the Loch of Houlland. From there back to our starting point to end an invigorating excursion. Well worth doing.

But the day was not over yet as there were two more diversions. The first was a visit to the Tangwick Haa Folk Museum, which featured material on the history and life on this part of Shetland. It may be small but it was full of interesting artifacts and a very friendly custodian (I should clarify that the custodian did not fill the buiilding although she was probably not unfamiliar with a regular plate of haggis). The second diversion took us to
Frankie’s Fish and Chips. It's Britain’s most northerly fish and chip cafe and takeaway and can be found in the village of Brae overlooking Busta Voe. Excellent battered haddock, crisp chips and tasty mushy peas - greasy food doesn't get any better than this! And others agree as it has won many national and international prizes, including the highly prestigious (?) Young Fish Fryer of the Year award for 2013. Were our chips fried by the winner? Did I really detect a juvenile hand in the way that the potatoes were delicately shaped? Or were they the product of a more heavy handed senior fish fryer? I should have asked, shouldn't I?

And finally, lovers of words will find the place names of Shetland fascinating.  Here's just a few we came across on this day out: Drid Geo, Mavis Grind, Holes of Scraada, Blackhead of Breigeo, Navir Grind, Gro Taing, Utstabi..... I was half expecting Frodo Baggins and his friends to pop out from behind a rock.


Calder's Geo, a cleft about 1/2 mile deep cut into the cliffs. Although it's not obvious, there were hundreds of fulmars nesting on narrow ledges on the cliffs.
 
Waves crashing on cliffs in the distance. This shot shows about a third of the overall length of the cliffs at this point.
 
The Hole of Scraada. The sea emerges here about 1/2 mile from the cliffs. The guide book says that it's possible to negotiate the passage by canoe in the right conditions - but not by me!
 
Sunlight on the Loch of Houlland and the iron age causeway to the island.