Martin's Mag.

The river Lea used to mark, more or less, the boundary between London and Essex. It was an area to be avoided when I was a boy. The river itself was virtually a sewer, taking waste of all sorts down to the Thames docks at Poplar and Canning Town – now a hipster’s paradise and within a stone’s throw of the financial centre of Canary Wharf.

We stayed between Ponders End and Chingford, popular retirement “manor” for the  successful East End crook in days of old.  The Lea Valley park and the 2012 Olympic site at Stratford have transformed the area.  We caught three buses (Lucy was very well-behaved) down to the Olympic park and then, after looking around the excellent gardens (and West Ham United’s new London stadium) we walked the ten or eleven miles back along the river.

Steve’s 2018 cycle ride, this year north of Bristol through Avonmouth, under the Severn (M4) bridge, Pilning, Easter Compton, Henbury and back to The Nova Scotia pub in Hotwells. Here I am leading the over-65 peloton!
Photo by © Steve.

We’ve been to Milford in Hampshire, on the southern edge of the New Forest. The weather was good for a couple of days while we had a stroll around Lymington, sat on the beach in Milford and walked the mile-and-a-half shingle spit from Milford to Hurst Castle, out in the Solent close to the Isle of Wight. Fabulous views; don’t know why we’d never heard of it.

High tide near Milford-on-Sea

Food, drink, history of the port of Bristol and an excuse for a good time.

Llangorse [Llangors] is a pretty village with a lake and a common and wild, or at least free-roaming, horses. Also, due to the continuing unusually hot weather, a series of scrub fires up in the hills which added a dash of excitement to the scene, specially at night. It’s an “outdoor activities” sort of area, with young people walking around in hiking boots or kayaks on their backs.

We only stayed for a couple of nights but managed walks around the lake and along the hills avoiding fires. Also, Lucy and I launched my inflatable canoe, which I haven’t used for well over a year. No leaks. We circumnavigated the lake. Lucy didn’t move for the first half hour but relaxed when she started to realise that we might not drown after all.

View over Llangorse [Llangors] Lake towards Allt yr Esgair.

Llangorse Lake.

The Llangasty Bird Hide, Llangorse Lake.

Old carved canoe near Llangorse Lake.

View from the bedroom.

On the Allt yr Esgair, above Llangorse.

Llangorse Lake.

The Llangasty Bird Hide, from Llangorse Lake.

Lucy on Llangorse Lake.

Scrub fires above Llangorse.

Horses and camper van on Llangorse common.

A few days by the sea in South Wales. We actually swam in both the sea and a pool. The hot weather continues…

Mill Wood near Penrice, Swansea.

We’ve been staying in a village called Polruan, on the River Fowey in Cornwall. It is opposite to the town of Fowey. And very pretty it all is. But…

Despite the fact that it’s a beautiful area and everyone is having a good time on holiday, there is a sadness about these towns and villages. From bustling, self-sufficient communities they have become almost entirely dependent on tourism. In other word, us. Nearly all the charming cottages in the twisting streets going down to the estuary and beaches are holiday homes. “Genuine” Cornish pasty, souvenir and ice-cream shops abound. Yes, it’s very pleasant, but rather, I suppose, one-dimensional.

People delight in naming their houses “The Old School” or “The Old Fish Market”, etc., not realising that, to cynics like us, this is not so much amusingly twee but a reminder of a lost age.

For instance:

Still, there were some great walks and scenery, and crab sandwiches. Result! The weather brightened up after Sal’s birthday. Among other minor disasters I lost my smartphone which, against all the odds, was found (and returned), after we returned home, by another tourist.

With Miles, Flo and a very sceptical Lucy. (That’s me smiling not grimacing. I know it can be hard to tell.)

It’s a tradition in Portishead that heavy rain or hail and biting winds accompany the Portishead Carnival. But not this year. It was, however, dull and overcast, so people were not too disappointed.

Never really explored Anglesey, which, for overseas readers, is an island off NW Wales. We have very briefly driven around once or twice, but, if you keep to the roads you tend to miss the fabulous beaches and scenery. We stayed near a village on the east coast called Moelfre.

We walked south on the coast, through Moelfre then inland to a burial chamber dating back to 2000BC, a 4th-century Romano-British settlement at Din LLigwy, and a 12th century chapel, “Hen Gapel”.

On the next day the weather was so good that we spent the day on the local beach, reading, sunbathing, eating sandy sandwiches (takes me back to Southend) and entertaining Lucy. She found a frisby with which she became completely obsessed. We’ve hidden it now and will keep for special occasions only. These pictures with smartphone:

At the suggestion of Sal’s sister, Wendy (thanks Wendy!), we took a trip to an incredible disused copper mine, once the largest in the world, near Amlwch (from where the copper was subsequently shipped).

Then down, past the Menai Bridge, to Beaumaris (the castle) and back to Moelfre.

On the last day, on our way back home, we stopped for the day in Llanberis, where Sally did some painting (see below) and Lucy and I walked up Mt Snowdon (for those interested: up the Miners’ Path and Pyg Path and back down the Llanberis Path).