Pigs 'Ere Blog Part 19: And in conclusion..............

I never actually got around to writing a post-script to our porcine adventures last year and someone has just asked me about it. Just in case anyone else is wondering the same thing, here's a summary of what we learnt.

* It was a really fun experience and working with the pigs was enjoyed by all involved. The British Lop variety is a nice friendly breed and the pigs were very easy to handle.

* We produced some fat, happy pigs with an emphasis on the 'fat'. We were probably too generous with the food and some of our joints had more fat than meat. Less food near the end and slaughtering them earlier would have sorted this out.

* Nothwithstanding the above comment, the taste of the meat and sausages was as good as we had hoped for. And the crackling on a roasted joint was probably the best we've ever crunched our way through.

* The team worked well together: all took their responsibilities seriously but with the right attitude. No pettiness, no preciousness and plenty of laughs.

* Seven families in the team was a good number as it made allocation of duties easy - one set day each but with some flexibility when other things (holidays etc) cropped up.

* The abattoir we used was as humane as it could be and we were very pleased with the send-off they got.

* Our hog roast was universally acclaimed to be a great success.

So, what happens next? Easy question to answer: we'll be doing it again, taking on board what we gleaned from our experiences in 2014, and the weaners come in next week. Not sure we can make a piggy giggle but we will definitely give them a happy time between then and our plates.

 

Dartmoor Walk May 28th 2015: Merrivale, Sampford Spiney Circular

Off to Dartmoor yesterday for a supposedly 5 mile walk, which came in at 6.5 miles (surprise, surprise) - not that the extra mile or so was a problem as the route was a good one. Starting in a car park just outside of Merrivale, we headed down a mixture of footpaths, tracks and quiet lanes roughly following the course of the Walkham River to Ward Bridge. From there we headed to the hamlet of Sampford Spiney and then back to our starting point via open moor around Pew and Vixen Tors. The weather was mixed and a total contrast to our recent steamy days in Cyprus. The route is given below. We crossed the Walkham at Point A (Ward Bridge) and Point B (Merrivale Bridge) and, from the walk elevation profile, it can be seen that the river drops some 400 feet between these two points. This rapid descent is typical of the rivers coming off the escarpment of the moor and is a guarantee of spectacular torrents most of the year. There is never a shortage of water in these parts!  As ever, I've included a few more photographs for the record.

The view from our starting point, out across the moor to the Staple Tors. In the middle are the remains of the Merrivale Granite Quarry which closed down in the 1980s. At one time there were a couple of rows of workers' cottages and a chapel, all now demolished. And the white building? The Dartmoor Inn.

Although the bluebells were passed their best, there were enough around to give a good indication of what they must have looked like.

We've walked this way a few times and I always like coming across this gate. To me, it seems like a portal between one world and the next.

I only saw one orchid and this is it - the Common Spotted Orchid.

Self-explanatory?

 

Making the best use of local materials to edge a lane. These lined both sides of the lane and extended for at least half a mile. Think of the total weight of material used and the effort of getting it all down off the moor and shaped.

I wonder how long these will be a feature of our walks? A letter box from the reign of Queen Victoria. This one is in a fairly isolated spot but still gets a daily collection (except for Sundays, of course). With the privatisation agenda of Posh Dave's Boys, I wouldn't bet on these continuing for very much longer. Another nail in the coffin of rural living.

The tower of the church at Sampford Spiney peeping through the trees. At the beginning of the reign of Henry II (1154-1189) the Manor of Sampford belonged to one Gerard de Spineto. This family remained at the manor for many generations and it is thought that their family name eventually led to the Parish being called Sampford Spiney. As good an explanation as any.

We come across examples of worked granite quite often on our walks. This one looked as if it was destined for some substantial construction - a bridge? harbour wall? Why was it left there? Surplus to requirements, perhaps? I do hope the poor worker who chipped away at this was paid for his efforts.

A view of Vixen Tor, which changes shape with each angle you look at it. It was a popular place for walkers and climbers...........

...........until the landowner changed and the new one, despite vehement public protests, prevented access. Boo, hiss. what a shame.

 

It's never too early to start thinking about Xmas.

Yesterday's pantomime (aka The State Opening of Parliament) got me thinking about Xmas and it crossed my mind that our usual Xmas tree is getting passed its best. Perhaps this one would entertain grandchildren and visitors alike? But remember folks, a giraffe is not just for Xmas.

And if you really want to get into the festive spirit take a look at this short film from 1945/1946. An early version of Toy Story?  Given the animation technology (?) available at the time, it's pretty impressive. And here's an interesting fact, the Father Xmas figure was not in the original Czech version and was clipped in later for the USA market. 

And if you'd like to download a 'countdown to Xmas' clock just like this one I prepared a short while ago, go to http://www.xmasclock.com/ You know you want to.

 

 

You thought it was 2015? Think again: Ruritania rides into town

I was going to ignore it but it really is something that sets my pulse racing. However, as I've already said everything I want to say on the topic, I thought I'd rerun something (with just a few minor tweaks) I wrote around this time in 2013. And I still stand by every word. Perhaps the current furore over the problems with our first-past-the-post system will see the end of all this? Here's hoping.

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, the Cruel Cap of Benefits (I'm sorry, I made the last two 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, most SNP and Labour 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 - despite the fact that what's on this year's menu is potentially inflammatory.  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 we just voted them in) 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 2015 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?

Northern Cyprus: May 2015: Part 3

An enjoyable and informative day trip to Famagusta and its environs. Here's just a few photographs to give a flavour of the day.

The Lala Mustafa Pasha Mosque originally known as Saint Nicholas's Cathedral is the largest medieval building in Famagusta. It was built between 1298 and around 1400 and was consecrated as a Catholic cathedral in 1328. The cathedral was converted into a mosque after the Ottoman Empire captured Famagusta in 1571 and it remains a functioning mosque to this day. This view was taken from in front of what was originally the main door into the cathedral and looks down the nave, which is now the main praying area of the mosque.

Tucked away right to the side at the bottom of the nave is the screened area where women pray. It was also the place where the mosque vacuum cleaners seem to be kept, upon which I pass no comment about equality.

This building is the Cathedral of St George of the Greeks. It was probably built in opposition to the nearby Roman Catholic cathedral of St. Nicholas. The view shows the semicircular apse at its eastern end. Originally the central part of the cathedral had a large dome which was blown up in 1571 during a bombardment by Turkish artillery. The Greeks and Turks have never been good neighbours!

Founded in 300 BC, Famagusta remained a fishing village for many years but, as a result of the gradual evacuation of nearby Salamis, it developed into a small port. With the onset of Lusignan rule in the mid 1100s, it increased in importance due to its natural harbour and the walls that protected its inner town. This development accelerated in the 13th century as the town became a centre of commerce for both the East and West and it was transformed into one of the 'richest cities in Christendom'. In 1372 the port was seized by Genoa and in 1489 by Venice and they continued the development of its commercial activity and wealth. I like this photograph because it marries the old and new: the walls of the old castle overlooked by the accoutrements of the modern port.

Just to the north of Famagusta, Salamis is one of Cyprus's main archaeological sites. It was one of 10 city kingdoms in Cyprus and its origins go  back to the 11th century BC. It rose to prominence in the 6th century BC with a royal court and a mint for its own coins. The Persians destroyed the city in 306BC but it flourished again under the Romans from about 60BC. Fortunes waxed and waned, often in the wake of earthquakes until a series of disasters (the harbour silting up and attacks by Arab raiders) all helped to finish it off. Around 650BC, the inhabitants fled down the coast to what eventually became Famagusta.
The site covers several acres and, once inside, we could wander at will and, joy of joys, climb, touch and feel to our heart's content - the very best way to get to grips with an ancient site (learn a lesson, Stonehenge). The photograph shows the Agora, which was the meeting place and market of the city. Two sides were lined with columned arcades to provide shade in summer and shelter in winter. Only one of the columns has survived. The courtyard has temples dedicated to gods of commerce and was once decorated with statues and fountains.

The amphitheatre dates from the time of Augustus and originally consisted of 50 rows of seats for more than 15,000 spectators. Performances took place on the raised stage decorated with statues. After it was destroyed by earthquakes in the 4th century it was demolished and building materials used on other parts of the site. Today it has been restored as far as it can be and is used for occasional events - in fact, one of friends recalled being there several times for regimental concerts/gatherings.  We've seen a few amphitheatres in our time and this one is in excellent condition. It's unusual in that the back-stage buildings are still intact and the fact that it faces away from the sea - most face towards the water.

 

All around the site, many trees seemed to be festooned with white snails. Were they dead? Apparently not because I picked a few off and looked. What were they doing there? Cue a Google search back at base! I learnt that many species of snail go into a form of summer hibernation known as aestivation and in so doing form these large clumps. They are the White Garden Snail (Theba pisana), also called Sand hill snail, White Italian snail, Mediterranean coastal snail or Mediterranean snail. After cleaning them, the locals find them a culinary delicacy. Me? Not tempted.

Lots of these lizards running around the site.

The forty four seat Roman latrine beside the gymnasium, just off the Agora. Apparently the Romans put a greater premium on efficient evacuation than privacy. Although much of the detail has been lost, in their prime there were separate seats and running water for post-ejection ablutions. In some ways, sanitary arrangements for most on the island have gone backwards since then. 

On our way back to the villa we called in on the monastery which bears the name of St Barnabas. It was originally built in the last part of the fifth century, to commemorate the discovery of his body, and the kudos it brought to the early Christian Church of Cyprus. The church is exactly as it was when its last three monks left in 1976. All the paraphernalia (pulpits, wooden lectern and pews) are still in place. It contained a rich collection of painted and gilt icons mostly dating from the 18th century. One wall had a display of discarded artificial limbs, thrown away by penitents whose prayers had been answered. Unfortunately, the photograph I took of these didn't come out so you'll have to take my word for it that they do exist.

And here's a display of three icons showing St George.

Northern Cyprus: May 2015: Part 2

Our villa (not without its issues but I won't dwell on those) had a good sized swimming pool and, whilst the others had a bit of poolside R & R, I took myself off for a wander into the hills. Spectacular views all the way and, perversely though it may seem, there's something very enjoyable about walking in the steaming heat. Maybe it's because it's not something I can do in the UK: maybe it's because I've got a screw loose. Whatever the reason, it suits me and there's always something interesting to see.

Amazing, isn't it? You spend hours waiting for a Cyprus Pied Wheatear to come along and two turn up.

A 

There were several of these 'nests' at the top of pine trees on my way up the track. Some were much smaller than this one but all had the same general shape. I haven't come across anything like this in the UK and a Google search when I got back to base revealed them to the colonial nest of the caterpillars of the Pine Processionary Moth. Called Processionary because the caterpillars process head to tail in a long column when they leave the nest. They are destructive little devils and leave their next at night to munch their way through the needles on the branches. They are a definite pest and, or so my reading tells me, have infested forests in the eastern part of Canada. The nests were too high up the trees for me to explore them further which is probably just as well as the hairs on the caterpillars are quite poisonous. Poisoners as in 'can kill a small dog' poisonous.

I think the botanical name for this one is "spikey thing". Simple, star-shaped and very attractive. 

The track I was following degenerated into a path following a dry stream bed through a ravine. A delightful place, silent except for the sound of birds and the air redolent with the smell of rosemary and others scents that I couldn't put a name to. For me, this is one of the most pleasurable aspects of walking in a hot country.

Looking up towards the royal apartments of St Hilarion Castle.

And looking back towards the sea, over Kyrenia.

Another view of St Hilarion Castle, with less zoom on the lens. It gives a better idea of how impressive its location is.
  

Northern Cyprus: May 2015: Part 1

We are spending/have spent 12 days in Northern Cyprus, staying in a villa above Karmi (near Kyrenia) and being hosted by our once-upon-a-time neighbours back in Cornwall. As we have been very busy since we've been here, I haven't been able to blog on a regular basis but I'll try and catch-up with a number of post-dated entries so I've got some sort of record of our time here.

We flew into Larnaca airport in Southern Cyprus - the Greek half - and travelled north to cross the border into Northern Cyprus - the Turkish half. The politics of the island are complicated and I'll refer to them as and when relevant to whatever I touch on. We had a night's stay in a charming village in the Troodos mountains, before continuing on to our villa. Highlights of the first couple of days included a meal out at the Old Harbour in Kyrenia (now known as Girne) and a visit to the hill top Crusader castle of St Hilarion. An amazing location and an amazing feat of engineering. And, as you can tell from the photographs, the weather is pretty good! Hovering between the mid-twenties and mid-thirties or, to put it another way, hovering between the comfortable and uncomfortable. But we'll soon acclimatise. Or melt.

Where we stayed on our first night - Lofou in the Troodos Mountains, the highest range in (Southern) Cyprus.

A panorama of the Troodos Mountains, before dropping down onto the central plain and the border crossing into Northern Cyprus.

Kyrenia harbour at night.

Hummingbird Hawk Moth, just after it had fed as its proboscis is being 'rewound'. Amazingly busy little beasties and quite difficult to get a shot of them when they are relatively stationary.

Looking down onto Kyrenia as we climbed up the footpath to St Hilarion Castle.

We think this was a Cyprus Pied Wheatear, indigenous to the island.

Looking up to St Hilarion Castle. And, yes, it was a bit of a climb, made more 'interesting' by the high temperatures.

Another view of St Hilarion Castle

A thistle flower just about ready to open.

Dandelion - I liked the shape and the light shining through it.

A most welcome lemonade at a harbourside restaurant.

Gone fishing.

Swallowtail butterfly. Lots of them around at high elevations, flitting here, there and everywhere.

Same one as above. Try as I might I just could not get it to cooperate by alighting with its wings open and at the right angle.