St David's: January 2014: Part 1

The first full day of our January break at St David's. Because of the weather the morning was spent pottering around the city as conditions really weren't good enough for coastal or hill walking. Matters improved in the afternoon enough for us to visit a few of our favourite places along the coast. All-in-all a very relaxed day - and that's exactly what we wanted.

There are days when a cup of strong tea and some succulent slices of smoked bacon slapped between two pieces of bread and then covered with HP sauce taste like Ambrosia. And so it was today. All that for a mere £3 - at the Oriel-y-Parc on the outskirts of town. Could be back there again soon!

Our excuse - nay, reason - for not walking today was the atrocious weather. To say it was wet and windy would be an understatement.

And this is all that remains of the car park and sea front 'esplanade' at Abereiddy after the recent storms. We've sat on the wall and eaten an ice cream whilst looking at the sea. I think it will be quite a while before anyone is able to do that again.

Stand on the outer harbour wall looking back into Porthgain. Once a bustling port dealing with the slate from the local mines but now an atmospheric deserted industrial relic.

Who is Maggie and what's her relationship to Jon? and who was the carver of this sign on the blacksmith's shed?

The number of crows on the exposed harbour bottom was unusual. They all seemed to be rooting around the debris to find THE piece necessary for the next stage of their nest construction. Missing bricks in the edifice of the old slate bunker provide ideal sites.

There are days when a cup of strong tea and some slices of rich bara brith taste like Ambrosia. And so it was today. At the Shed in Porthgain but considerably more expensive than our breakfast bacon butties. We won't be going back there this break.

St Rhian's church at Llanrhian. Nothing much is known about St Rhian: he could have been, variously, a contemporary of St David, a Welsh prince or the Virgin Mary. Take your pick. There has been a church on the site for some 1500 years and the existing building dates from the 13th century. It's unusual in that it's one of the few cruciform churches in Wales. The tower is somewhat older than the rest of the church and was, or so it is thought, a watch tower originally. A pleasant but somewhat austere interior and outside a constant cacophony of nesting rooks.

The day ends with Choral Evensong at the cathedral. The singing tonight was nothing short of superb. Plainsong with a choir of, most of the time, just six people. The best (and free) show in town.

Do us all a favour, Mr Gruffalo

The next time you meet Jeremy Hunt, don't just shake his hand - EAT him!

Birdwatching Cruise from Saltash

An extremely pleasant 3 hours were spent today on a cruise from Saltash Quay. The objective? To see what birds were feeding in the tidal reaches of the Tamar and Lynher estuaries. We sailed from Saltash up the Tamar as far as Weir Quay and then back down to follow the Lynher almost as far as St Germans. The conditions were just about ideal for what we wanted to do.

And did we see birds? Oh yes! My checklist tells me that we saw little grebes, great crested grebes, cormorants, little egrets, grey herons, a spoonbill, mute swans, shelducks, wigeon, teal, mallards, buzzards, oystercatchers, avocets, lapwings, dunlin, a black-tailed godwit, curlew, redshank, greenshank, black-headed gulls, common gulls, lesser black-backed gulls, feral pigeons, two kingfishers, skylarks, pied wagtails and carrion crows.

We are lucky living in the Tamar Valley as we very often see the valley filled with mists. Today was no exception.

So stunning that I had to stop the car to take it all in.

Looking up the Tamar from Saltash Quay. The rainbow was an accurate portent of the good weather conditions we enjoyed.

Under the two bridges at Saltash - Brunel's railway bridge (1859) is that on the right.

My camera is not the best for wildlife photography at a distance. Notwithstanding that, here's one of the many grey heron that were stalking the water's edge.

Avocets - a rare bird in these parts.

Believe it or not, the blue blob on the branch is a kingfisher.

Near our turning point up the Tamar, giving a good view of the mud banks exposed at low tide which are such an excellent habitat for the birds we were looking for.

Trematon Castle and Trematon House in the distance. The castle was built on Roman foundations just after the arrival of the Normans. The house is Georgian. Neither is open to the public (boo!).

The 'hole' in the bank marks, according to local legend, a secret escape route from Trematon Castle used by the Black Prince.

I had to be told what this is. It's a platform (one of five or six in the area) designed to encourage ospreys to settle down and breed (they don't at the moment and have not for generations but they are occasional migratory visitors). This programme has a ten to fifteen year timescale.

Heading back to Saltash Quay, looking back up the Lynher Estuary. The clouds were gathering but the rain held off.

In praise of Alan Bennett's The Uncommon Reader

A friend, whose literary opinion I respect, waxed lyrical over the weekend about Alan Bennett's novel 'The Uncommon Reader'. I’ve been aware of it since it was published and, considering its length, I have no idea why I haven't picked it up sooner. A mere slip of a thing, it was a delight to read. Light, funny and really interesting: I finished it in a couple of relatively short sittings. It tells the story of the Queen who comes across a mobile library one day in the grounds of Buckingham Palace and decides to borrow a book for the first time. Not ever having really read any books before, she soon becomes captivated to the point of obsession: reading all the books she can and neglecting her duties as head of state. The consequences of this are far-reaching and, without giving too much of the plot away, brought joy to my republican heart.

With its unique and very funny plot, Bennett’s writing style is a pleasure to read: it’s so easy and flows effortlessly. As always with the author, there are lots of eminently quotable lines scattered throughout and some wry observations of the British way. I would definitely recommend it - and I thank my friend for pointing me in its direction.

One likes a good read one does, especially when one's book is about one.

Rufus Hound and the NHS

Every now and again I ask myself the question: how can I become a grown-up without forfeiting the radical energies of my youth? And the answer I always come up with? Don't grow up if it means being staid and predictable! Cue another intemperate rant about Posh Dave's antics.

Remember his infamous boast that "The NHS is safe in my hands" and the wonderfully airbrushed poster? 

At the time these 'promises' were made, anyone with a functioning brain, and a knowledge of the Tory hatred for a free NHS for all, predicted that Posh Dave's hands would soon be around the neck of the NHS doing their best to choke it to death. Despite rhetoric to the contrary, the NHS and good quality health care are now on the very brink and USA style big businesses are circling like vultures ready to pick the bones of what is left after the coalition has finished. Here are a few dismal facts:
*  We have lost thousands of nurses and other healthcare experts.
*  We have lost thousands of beds.
*  We have lost hundreds of wards and A and E departments.
*  We have lost hundreds of walk-in centres.
*  We have post code lotteries on whether people will survive cancer because of restricted access certain drugs.
*  NHS Trusts are failing and falling into debt.
*  NHS staff morale is at its lowest point.
*  Waiting lists and times are at their longest in over ten years.
*  Recent press reports reveals that treatment of the elderly and mentally ill is deplorable.

One of the creators of the NHS, Aneurin Bevan, said in 1951:
"The National Health service and the Welfare State have come to be used as interchangeable terms, and in the mouths of some people as terms of reproach. Why this is so it is not difficult to understand, if you view everything from the angle of a strictly individualistic competitive society. A free health service is pure Socialism and as such it is opposed to the hedonism of capitalist society".

He warned us never to leave it in Tory hands and what did we go and do? When it is gone it will be gone forever. And that's not an exageration. However, some people are prepared to do something about it. Take the comedian Rufus Hound who is standing as an MEP for the National Health Action Party. Good on him I say. There's a clip below of Jeremy Hardy and Rufus giving their views on the subject - two more entertainers standing by their principles.

A walk from Cardinham Church

A walk with our 'regular' group today of about 8 miles. And, as a bonus, the weather was kind to us with almost ideal walking conditions for this time of year. We started outside of Cardinham church and dropped down to follow the Fowey River as it flowed through the Cardinham plantation. We left the plantation to walk across fields, along green lanes and circled back to our starting point. A few buzzards were around and, apart from a single snowdrop and a small patch of gorse, there were very few flowers to be seen.

Our starting point, St Meubred's church at Cardinham. St Meubred was, or so it is thought, an Irish monk who came across in the 5th or 6th century. Apparently he was taken to Rome for reasons unknown and beheaded, after which his body was returned to the church for burial.

A casualty of the recent bad weather.

A stark white but unidentified fungus.

An alder bract fungus - reasonably common in these parts but specific for the alder tree.

A very fine example of a granite Celtic cross. Not quite sure what the vertical grooves (there was one on the other side as well) were there for or even if they were part of the original. Cornish farmers have a long tradition of using such crosses as gate posts!

About half way around and we were parallel with Cardinham church. The present building dates from the 15th century but was built on the site of a much earlier church.

Now this is what I call a muddy patch.

Signs that a farrier has been at work.

Back to our starting point which, unfortunately, was not open for a visit. Maybe next time?

From the Green, Green Grass of Home

I caught a very short clip of the BBC programme, The Voice, recently and witnessed Tom Jones in action. From the little I saw he is relishing his role as the Elder Statesman of British Pop and enjoys pontificating on the performances of a seemingly endless stream of pretty mediocre singers. He's travelled a long way since I first saw him in action so come with me as I take you back in time to the mid 1960s.

In those days my regular Saturday night haunt was the Palais de Danse in Caerphiily. More formally known as the Plymouth Ballroom, it was THE place to be for any lover of rock groups (bands hadn't been invented yet). Someone once said that you will always remember the first group you called your own. I can and they were The Sons of Adam, from Cardiff. A hairy bunch who played a lot of very loud R & B with a thundering bass line. Wonderful stuff and I can still remember their versions of John Lee Hooker's 'Boom, Boom and Boom' and  Leiber and Stoller's 'I'm a Hog for You Baby'. Although I can recite in toto the lyrics of the latter, I'll admit that I had to look up the composers - my memory isn't that good.

Another group on the circuit at the time was Tommy Scott and the Senators. Less hard-edged, and to me less interesting than the Sons of Adam, the Senators were really just a backing group for the lead singer who obviously thought a lot of himself. I remember them dressed in leather waistcoats and,

Tommy Scott and the Senators

on another occasion (at a dance at Bedwas Comprehensive School of all places), in a set of rather tasteless pastel-shaded jackets. They were big on Elvis numbers and anything really that allowed Tommy Scott to exercise his tonsils. To be completely objective, he did have a distinctive style and was clearly a few notches better than the lead singers of most groups (except for the Sons of Adam, of course, who took it in turns to share the microphone).

It came as no surprise when we heard that Tommy Scott and the Senators headed to London. Because of a name clash, Tommy Scott morphed into Tom Jones and the Senators became the Squires. After a couple of unsuccessful records together, the Squires were sidelined (perhaps dumped would be a more accurate description) and Tom Jones went solo with 'It's not unusual'. The rest, as they say, is history. 

I can't find any pictures or recordings of the Sons of Adam (shame!) but here's a really badly dubbed clip of Tommy Scott and the Senators performing one of their deservedly unsuccessful releases - 'Baby I'm in Love'.

A thought provoking poem by Carl Sandburg

Some days my poem-of-the-day e-mail comes up with something I find really engaging. Yesterday was one of those days, with the offering of Mag by Carl Sandberg. Who he? Sandburg (1878 - 1967) was an American writer, best known for his poetry: he was of poor Swedish stock and also enjoyed a reputation as a sometime folk singer. Apparently he inspired a young Bob Dylan. Not withstanding all these biographical details, let's return to the poem. I find it quite disturbing and pondering on it distracted me whilst I grappled with a recalcitrant bolt on our car. What is the poet expressing? Regret? Remorse? Make your own mind up. Here it is, followed by an excellent reading from the poet himself. I'll jot down my thoughts about it at the end. 

I WISH to God I never saw you, Mag.
I wish you never quit your job and came along with me.
I wish we never bought a license and a white dress
For you to get married in the day we ran off to a minister
And told him we would love each other and take care of
     each other
Always and always long as the sun and the rain lasts anywhere.
Yes, I'm wishing now you lived somewhere away from here
And I was a bum on the bumpers a thousand miles away
     dead broke.
I wish the kids had never come
And rent and coal and clothes to pay for
And a grocery man calling for cash,
Every day cash for beans and prunes.
I wish to God I never saw you, Mag.
I wish to God the kids had never come.




What did I think of it? It struck me that this could be a poem of regret and remorse: the bitterness of a poor, overworked family man  Is he just sick and tired of being sick and tired of everything - and broke? He needs cash for rent and coal and clothes and cash for those beans and prunes. Perhaps he feels totally incapable of providing what his family needs? If he'd never met Mag, all this would not have happened. Will he feel the same way after he has rested and breakfasted the next morning? 

On the other hand, of course, he could just be totally disillusioned with love and family life and wants out. He is angry that marriage is meant to be "Always and always long as the sun and the rain lasts anywhere." but he's "wishing now you lived somewhere away from here" and that "the kids had never come".

What if he had never met Mag? If he's married a Peggy or a Sue, would he have wound up just as bitter? Something to ponder on.

Taking advantage of a break in the weather

Hooray - no rain so it was off for a walk on the eastern edge of Bodmin Moor. Starting at Blackcoombe Farm near Henwood, we skirted Sharp Tor, followed the Withey Brook for a while and then ascended Langstone Downs to join the old mineral railway back to Bearah Tor, finishing by dropping back down to the car.  Tremendous views all the way around - skies, countryside and, as ever on the moors, archaeology of one form or another. Wet underfoot but a very enjoyable 4 miles or so. I'm getting rather fond of Bodmin Moor.
 

Quite a lot of this around on (dead?) branches of gorse. It's the jelly fungus Tremella mesenterica (Tremella means trembling - a reference to the wobbly-jelly-like structure of fungi within this group). It goes by a number of names yellow brain fungus, orange brain fungus, golden jelly fungus, yellow trembler and witches' butter. I like witches' butter best. Although the example shown is yellow, the colour variation goes from pale yellow through to a rather garish bright orange. Very distinctive and easily spotted at this time of year.

Not so much mud but lots of water. Puddles, pools and streams.

A tributary of the Withey Brook, eventually coming out of our tap at home.

A boundary stone dating from 1846. There are many of these on the moors and delineate the areas beyond which granite quarrying/extraction could not take place. An early form of landscape preservation?

The lettering on the boundary stone is 1846, RIL (Rillaton Manor lands) and 9 (one of around 15 of this particular style).

The sun setting in the west.

And a rainbow in the east.

A stretch of granite rail bearers on the track of the old mineral railway, dating from the mid 1850s. Originally gravity down some 10 miles and horse drawn all the way back up. Used to take granite off the moor and to bring essential supplies to the workings.

The largest and most famous - THE Cheesewring - is about 2 miles away but there are quite a few of these distinctive geological features in the area. These are on Bearah Tor, just above Bearah quarry, one of the very few still producing granite.

RIP: Roger Lloyd Pack

Speaking at a Stop the War meeting

I was sorry to hear of the death of comedy actor Roger Lloyd Pack yesterday. Much will be made of his roles in Only Fools and Horses and The Vicar of Dibley but, I suspect, less will be made of his support of many left wing causes, such as Stop the War, CND, the People's Assembly (campaigning against the coalition's austerity measures) and, more recently the No Glory campaign challenging the government's interpretation of the First World War.

He, like a number of other actors, saw the importance of speaking out on wider political issues. And, also like a number of other actors, was derided in the media as a left wing 'luvvy' out of touch with the realities of everyday life. I think this was the opposite of the truth. He was one of the celebrities who backed campaigns that challenge government policies because they feel that their abilities and talents can be used to give a louder voice to the people who are directly suffering from these policies. Roger was extremely modest and very much part of the campaigns which he supported. I never met him but, as a fellow traveller on a number of issues, I was aware of what he did behind the scenes, well away from the glare of publicity.

His talent as an actor was not in doubt. Nor was his humanity and commitment. He will be missed by many, not least those involved in the causes he espoused.

Still alive................

..............and still ranting. Unfortunately there's a limit to the pestilence that amoxicillin can get rid of..

Luciano Pavarotti vs James Brown

I'm not normally a fan of 'cross-over' music: mixing different genres generally doesn't work for me. I do, however, like the pairing of Luciano Pavarotti and James Brown performing Brown's 'It's a man's world together'. I say pairing because, to my mind, it's not a duet by any stretch of the imagination. I came across this through a Human Rights website I dip into. It mentioned the charity work that Pavarotti had been involved in and the annual "Pavarotti and Friends" charity concerts he held in his home town of Modena.  The list of those joining him on stage is interesting (Andrea Bocelli, Jon Bon Jovi, Bryan Adams, Bono, James Brown, Mariah Carey, Eric Clapton, Sheryl Crow, Céline Dion, Anastacia, Elton John, Deep Purple, Meat Loaf, Queen, George Michael, Sting and the Spice Girls). I've only been brave enough to listen to one other 'pairing' and that's the one with post-Mercury Queen. Truly ghastly and something to pass over very quickly.

They both put in an excellent performance within their own styles but it's clear that he (Brown) recognises who his superior is. A very enjoyable way to spend 4.40 minutes!

New Year's Resolution #2: Walk more

We enjoy walking but don't do enough of it. We'll try and change that in 2014 and make a determined effort to make more time for getting out and about.  Despite the bad weather we did manage one 5 mile walk along the coast from the hotel we spent a couple of nights at on the Lizard. It turns out that we managed to fit it in before the rain closed in again.

Now here's a strange thing: I don't often dream but I had a really weird one when we were away. I woke up concerned about Basil D'Olivera and the fact that his commemorative medal was getting tarnished. Basil D'Olivera I can place as he was at the centre of a cricketing controversy during the Apartheid era in pre-Mandela South Africa. But what commemorative medal? And why was it tarnished? Where did all that come from?

The hotel we were staying at - the Polurrian Bay Hotel - just outside of Mullion Cove. In the distance to the left is the complex of buildings associated with Marconi and his first experiments in transatlantic communications. I wonder what he would make of our perpetually wired culture?

The stone column commemorates Marconi

Lots of sea and sky.

A less than impressive photograph of a peregrine falcon hovering over its lunch. It just wouldn't cooperate for a better shot. It always amazes me that they can maintain their positions even when there's a gale blowing.

How do you get into a field with a large bull and a couple of young calves? By crawling under an electrified fence. Perhaps not one of our smarter moves! We beat a hasty retreat.

And there was the ever present mud, mud, glorious mud. You know, there's nothing quite like it for cooling the blood..............

And then it was off to Mousehole to see the Xmas lights in the harbour. Better than we thought even allowing for the fact that the sea monster did not light up.

Well worth visiting - but you'll have to wait until Xmas 2014 because last night was the switch-off for this season.