Wilstone Reservoir

A walk out from Tring, Hertfordshire. Well we did cheat a little and drove to the village of Wilstone first where we parked the car. A very quiet, peaceful and picturesque village.

We then set out for the reservoir, after a helpful cup of coffee at a lovely little cafe.   A view across the fields to the village.

Finally a quick walk up a steep slope and the reservoir came into view. And there were, as predicted, fishermen comfortably set up in their shelter tents. The man from this tent was being neighbourly by drinking tea with the man in the tent behind. All this effort just to throw the catch back into the water.

Bottoms up!  At least the swans can keep whatever they catch.

We continued around the reservoir, which meant leaving it, and walking off into the wood.

Now which way do we go? Donna consulting her Google map.

When we came within sight of the reservoir again, we went our separate ways. Patrick and Walter to collect the car, and Donna and I, together with Poppy, to walk back via the canals. Who would be first home?  The photo below shows the work on a disused canal which will connect two other canals. At the moment it looks like a deep ditch with tyre tracks.

A peaceful walk beside the canal. And more fishermen. One fisherman caught a very small fish. Should I take a photo? Perhaps not. He might think I am spying on him.  The fish must get very sore mouths.

And we arrived home first.

Uploading Photos

I am very happy. After two years I can finally upload photos to Blogspot using my tablet. And it is so easy. And so quick too.

When I bought the tablet, a PackardBell Liberty Tab, two years ago I tried to upload photos onto my blog. Disappointingly it would not upload the photos. As it was an Android tablet, it should have been very easy. So for the next two years I continued to carry my laptop with me when travelling so I could write my blog.

 But no more.

After researching the web I came to the realisation it was a simple problem that could be fixed. After a bit of advice from a helpful assistant at PC World I downloaded the Firebox browser. I then used it to upload the photo above onto Blogspot. And hey presto my problem has been fixed. 




 Good news.

Sculptures, and such like, in Joyden"s Wood

Certainly there has been much work happening in Joyden's Wood during the past few years, and it has been a pleasant surprise to discover all the new elements; wooden sculptures, a boardwalk, and a pond.

The sleeping dormouse.

The Saxon warrior and the Roman soldier stand guard on each side of the Faesten Dic (strong ditch).  They are so spookily real looking, especially when you walk out of the woodland, and see them out of the corner of your eye.

More sculptures;  swirling bats, a woodpecker and a perched owl.

The board walk.

The wildlife pond, complete with grasses and border plants.    An ideal place for children to do pond dipping.

The wood is coppiced regularly, an old English approach to managing woodland.  The trunk of the tree below has been coppiced before, as can be seen by the many branches that once sprouted from the trunk.   And of course been cut again.  Once cut, the branches are sorted into different sizes, the larger ones are probably sold and the smaller ones used for fencing.   

I still have to find the fuselage and tail of a Hawker Hurricane which commenorates the World War II pilots which were shot down over the wood.   They successfully bailed out of their planes before they crashed.

Maps of the walks and the woods are available from a box at the Summerhouse Drive entrance, but unfortunately the sculptures and plane are not marked on the map.   So it is a matter of taking one of the walks in order to find them.  

Cleaning the kitchen appliances

Well I am sure that no one really wants to know about our clean oven, but I am so proud of it, that I must put pen to paper, or in this case type to computer.    Just look at the photograph below, our oven, gleaming and shiny.  Except for the one black dot on the floor, bottom left of the oven.  I must have missed that spot.  Very annoying.

Of course we would not have had such a dirty oven, if I had not decided to experiment in making homemade Yorkshire puddings.   And to perfect my cooking skills, I made quite a few batches of them.  But I did not realise that too much oil in the bottom of the patty pans resulted in it boiling over the top.  Then it stuck like glue to the racks and the tray at the bottom of the oven.    

 So on Sunday I was determined to get back to the new look, a gleaming oven. I initially sprayed the oven with Mr Muscle, and nearly asphyxiated us.   So I washed it all off, and went off to the shops.   There must be something better.   In the meantime, my thoughful husband, got to work on the racks, and scraped and scraped away, and when I returned, they were perfectly clean.   Well done, Walter.   

But I found a fantastic product at Wilkinsons, their own brand oven cleaner.  The ingredients, were pretty toxic, but no smell or fumes.   The bottom tray went into a thick plastic bag, with half of the gel, and I wiped the remainder of the gel around the inside of the oven, using a sponge and the plastic gloves provided.  Six hours later the mess had all gone from the tray and oven.  I washed and wiped them clean, and deposited the plastic bag into the rubbish bin.   I must admit, at that point, I did think about the effects on the environment.  Powerful stuff.

But we have a clean, and gleaming oven.    Just like new, which it practically is, too.

 While on the subject of cleaning appliances, our 'bean to cup' coffee machine is an interesting one to clean.   High tech too.   When the cleaning light comes on, the book comes out, and it is absolutely cruicial to do as instructed at the correct times, otherwise there is a big mess up of the machine, electronically, and it needs to go back to the manufacturer to be reset.   And as we love our coffee, that would be a disaster.

So our oven is sparkling clean, and the coffee machine is in good working condition.    Life is good!

Home Sweet Home

Here we are back home in Joydens Wood, heating on for a few hours each day, and jumpers and trousers covering up our tanned skin.   And we have experienced heavy rains, cold wind but some sunshine too.  

And it is so quiet here, no campers around us, to talk to, and ready to drink coffee, or have drinks before dinner. 

  

There is also no swimming in the pool, or dinner in the restaurant, or generally lying around doing nothing much at all, in the sunshine.  

We have a bathroom here, so no portaloo or trying to find the best shower cubicle in the ablutions block.

We have a lounge room, conservatory, and three bedrooms to clean, rather than a quick sweep out of the caravan, and annex.

We have a dishwasher, a machine, not just me using hot water boiled in a pot, ruining my badly applied nail polish in the process.

And no mosquitoes, buzzing around, waiting to bite at every opportunity.   They were plentiful this year.

My feet are starting to recover, the cracks on the heels which looked like deep ravines, are softening and healing.  After four weeks of wearing flip flops, in hot and dusty conditions, my feet looked like they belonged to someone who has worked in outback Australia, without shoes.   

I went for my first walk in Joydens Wood this morning, in order to ensure that I maintain Manjastre fitness levels.   I thought I would take a photograph of the blue skies, just to prove that we have had some sunshine here.

 It was very gloomy in the wood, due to the sun being so much lower in the sky.   It was certainly much, much cooler, and very green.  No harsh bushland around here, such as in the national park around Manjastre.   

And the wood was full of dogs, out for their morning walk, which reminded me of France,with all those little pampered dogs.   But there was a difference, the dogs in Joydens Wood were very dirty as they had walked in a muddy wood.   And their owners were sensibly clad in sturdy boots, and warm coats.   Dogs are definitely tougher around here. A back view of a group of people with their dogs, getting ready to jump into their cars, to drive home for a cup of tea, and a good rub down, for the dogs that is.  The owners willl have the cup of tea!

But I miss our caravan, our outdoor life, the company, and the simplicities of life; a coffee, a wine, a talk, a swim, a walk, read a book or just do nothing but look at life around the caravan.  

Home Sweet Home!

Goodbye, Manjastre

We are currently packing up, ensuring that everything is clean, and tidy, and we have not included any wildlife.

It is always sad to leave, especially at the end of the season, but we always look forward to the next year.

We have had a lovely four weeks, strange at first without any family here, but we have enjoyed being able to sit and read our books, and go for walks, and visit a few places that we have not been to before.

We have also enjoyed socialising with the other campers, having drinks in the afternoon, or coffee in the morning, and talking, and getting to know people.    This has been really wonderful, so many lovely people camp here every year.

We have also had a couple of meals in the restaurant, and although the portion has been rather small, they have been delicious, and we certainly will eat there more often, especially if the current chef returns next year.

A few photographs to finish off our holiday.   My apologies, but no photos of any of our gatherings, due to being so busy drinking wine or coffee, and talking, so I forgot to take the photographs.

Well it does rain here, heavily too.  We had one morning of rain, where we had to close up the front of the awning.  And I went back to bed, and read my book.   Very pleasant.

And when the sun came out I took a photo of the two caravans next to ours, with the sun shining again.

And finally, a photo of the swimming pool, early in the morning with only one person in it.   The swimming pool is such an attractive feature in this camping ground, and well used too.    The water is always clear, and never tastes of chlorine.   Very well maintained.    I will certainly miss my morning swim, where I spend 15 minutes swimming laps, back stroke or free style.    

So it is goodbye Manjastre, until next year.   

St Clair and back again

My bicycle stood against the fence, unused, and the holiday nearly over.   So early today, I jumped onto it, and off I rode, to Le Lavandou.   Impressive, eh!   

The bicycle track was deserted, at 7.30 a.m.  I had it all to myself.  Lovely.  This used to be an old railway line that went through Le Lavandou. and someone with a bit of foresight, made it into a bicycle path.  

Le Lavandou was deserted in the early morning light, except for the keen runners along the foreshore.  And it is here I met Walter, who very kindly put my bicycle in the car, for the return trip.   Downhill going to Le Lavandou and uphill going back!   No sense in overdoing the fitness bit.

The boats, and masts, gleaming in the early morning sun.   There must be thousands and thousands of boats moored along the coast down here, most of them never seem to leave their moorings.   Status symbols!

Off we went on our walk along the footpath between Le Lavandou and St Clair.  Beautifully made, with a rough textured top so that it is not slippery.   So picturesque in the early morning sun.

Where have the people gone?   The deserted beach at St Clair, so clean and pristine.

The cafe/restaurant with sun loungers to rent out, so ordered and neat.   Orange is definitely the theme colour here.

Then back up the hill, again with a brief stop to look at some copies of paintings, by an impressionist, not someone I have heard of, and I have forgotten his name anyway.   But a long explanation of how important this area was to the painters that came here early last century.

And a view from the top road, of the harbour, and beach at Le Lavandou.

Stringy bark eucalyptus trees, in a very grubby park, with much evidence of being used as a free camping spot.   Most unusual here.

And back to the car, for the drive back to camp, and another late breakfast, greatly enjoyed, with an extra slice or two of baguette.   To make up for the increased exercise of course.

A very early long walk.

As the weather has cooled a little, and our fitness levels have risen, we decided that we were ready for a very long early morning walk.   Very keen, one might say.   And we were too!

So at 7 a.m. we were off, down out of the campsite, and along the back road, where Walter found a bamboo stick, just perfect to help him along the way.

Across the St Tropez road, and up the hill, where we slowed down somewhat, as it was a very straight track, and very steep.   The sun was just starting to rise, and we could see it reflecting on the hills across the valley.

And what a perfect view of the rubbish dump, across the valley.  If you like views of rubbish tips, that is.  This rubbish disposal area has certainly grown in the past few years.    More people, and more rubbish to dispose of.

What a beautiful light, in the early morning.

The sun rose even further, and we could see the camping ground way down below, with most people still sleeping soundly.   There was certainly no one in the swimming pool.   Lazy people.

And then onto the top Bormes road, and keeping an eye out for early morning drivers, speeding, and late for work.

The view down to the St Tropez road, winding around the hill side and very busy.

Then back down the fire track, which heads into the top of the valley, before turning back towards the bottom road.   Always takes longer to walk down, than one thinks it should.

And what is this?   A tiny snake, sadly run over by a vehicle.   And very dead.

Back to the storage area of the camping ground, where Donna's caravan lies ready for another holiday.  Sorry Donna, but the side sunscreen has not been put on very well, as it is very scrunched up.

The line up of ghostly empty caravans also waiting for their owners to return, and after six months of winter weather, their sparkling clean caravans will be covered in dirt, and tree leaves.

We arrived back in time for a late breakfast and to greet all the other campers, who were now up, and organising their day.  We can now justify a day of leisure, after that long walk.

A circular walk - Notre Dame de Constance

It all started with a notice in the Paroisse Saint Trophyme newsletter.    'Dimanche 8 Septembre, Nativite de la Sainte Vierge Marie, procession et Messe a Notre Dame de Constance, RDV au chateau de Bormes a 16h'.    

Great.   A procession to celebrate Our Lady's birthday.   I am all for this.   So off I went to the meeting point at the chateau, above Bormes village. 

I took the precaution of waiting in the courtyard above the carpark, in case not many people turned up, and luckily I did, because no one turned up, except for the priest and an elderly nun.   No doubt all the parishioners were sleeping off their Sunday lunch, and did not fancy a tough climb up to the chapel on a very hot day.     

The priest and nun had a quick discussion, and an even quicker look around, then the nun got back into her car and drove off, and the priest went back down to his church.  They did not appear unduly concerned at the lack of keen parishioners.   Probably secretly relieved really.  

 This left me sitting on the wall, wondering what I should do, having walked up from the village, with the purpose of joining the end of the procession.  Oh well, I think I will walk up anyway, and perhaps come back along the road, behind the hill, to the carpark.   Mad, I know.  

So off I went and clambered up the first part of path.   I could feel the heat radiating off the rocks and shrubs around me.   But I continued, perspiring madly, in  my determination to get to the top.  Mad, mad, mad!

 I had to stop often, in order to catch my breath, and cool down a little.   The views of the sea, were breathtaking, although I had very little breath left to appreciate the view.

 The path in the photo below was a steady climb up, although it looks flat.   By this time I was very hot, even more breathless, and my clothes were soaked in perspiration.   I thought of the parishioners sleeping off their lunch, in the coolness of their homes.   Very sensible.

 Finally, the chapel came into view, deserted of course.

 So I found a place to sit down, by the lookout, and drank my cold can of lemonade.   What a life saver. The breeze cooled me down quickly, and I felt really happy to have made it to the top.    The view alone was worth it.   There were other people there, but they were walkers who had come in from the road, and only had to walk a short way along a very smooth fire track.

 And then I remembered that if I walked down the fire track a short way, towards the road, I would be able to turn left along another fire track which would lead me back to my starting point in Bormes village.   Fantastic.    A circular walk.    I wished I had remembered this track when I went up there with David, Catherine and Barry, instead of making them clamber back down the rocky path.   Not an easy feat.

The scrub up there was very dry.   Bush fire material.

 And the photograph of the trees there, certainly reminded me of Australia.

 I walked around the hill, on a lovely shady fire track, which was not steep or challenging, just a pleasant soft gradient down.   I passed many people out for a Sunday walk with their dogs.   These were obviously the people who had slept off their lunch, but did not wish to clamber up a stony path, in the heat, on the sunny side of the hill.  There were beautiful views over the valleys.

Finally the path came out below the village, and I walked into the main shopping street, below the Saint Trophyme's church.

By this time I had completely forgotten about the hot climb up on the rocky path.   Euphoria!