A walk to remember..

We have just had dinner. And no Sat is perfect without a walk. We hit the streets. We couldn't have chosen a better time or place. Summer ravished London, teeming with people, pubs overflowing at every turn, and the sun in no hurry to set. Its close to eight , but theres no way you can tell. Everybody wants to get that little extra bit if sunshine, store it away in memory, toast to its warmth, and revel in the little blessing sent by the weather gods. For who knows how these things might turn. Tomorrow it might go back to being grey, for such is London.

The  canal we pass on our way to London Fields

Boats..

 London can surprise. There's a secret tucked away in every corner. Just because the locals know about it doesn't mean its not secret. Where else will you stop at a bridge and discover a beautiful canal, lined with pretty, colourful boats, sitting by themselves not bothered by who must pass. We explore. The setting is beautiful. The evening is crisp with a slightly mellow sun, the air is warm and the mood happy. We even jump onto one of the boats to take quick pictures only to be told off! :( They did let us take pictures though. As I watch am wishing I have my paints with me. My mind is on a mission to capture every detail, very aware of its own limitations . Cause memory is fickle!

London fields

I so love this city. Where else in the world can you find a green space in the middle of a sprawling metropolis. Where else can you find the old meeting the new the way it does here, not patronizingly but with all the knowledge that the world might pass over into different ways and its not entirely anyone else's doing. Where else can you find history, culture and heritage preserved in the most charming ways. Where else can you find something for every mood..

A game in progress..

A cricket match is in progress. The air smells of barbecues that are still going strong punctuated by the cheerful voices of scores of picnickers (don't know if this really is a word),and happy laughter . We saunter on , contented with how beautiful this day has turned out to be. And we wish for more of summer and more days like this

Walking Mousa..

An early flight to Shetlands saw us land in this beautiful cluster of islands with three entire days of exploring at our disposal. The sight of the mighty blue ocean encircling the cliffs, vast expanse of blue skies , sun splashed grassy hilltops ; We drive through all of them and our cab driver tells us, The weather isn't this good all the time, you guys are lucky.. I love the Scottish accent. It is ever so cute.

We check in and explore the town a bit. We've read so much about this place and yet every step surpasses any expectations we might have had from hours of armchair travel. Its beautiful.
Our morning is to plan how we would make best use of the next three days. We are not lucky enough to get on the ferry to Samburgh head, but the afternoon ferry to Mousa is available. Thrilled to bits. The sounds of seagulls squeaking over food is a constant, as numerous as crows they seem to perfectly glide over the smooth blue skies wiping away any clouds that might have been in sight...

On the boat to Mousa..

Our little ferry leaves only in the afternoon. Our ride costs us 15£ per head. We would have 4 hours to walk the island. Lying off the east coast of Shetlands , we ride about 30 minutes from Lerwick before we can sight land. The island emerges into view, a brown line against the distant horizon . It is currently uninhabited we are told. But there was a time when this was a Norse settlement. The island itself is not very big; about a mile and a half in length and a mile in breadth.
As we step off our boats we are given maps; reminiscent of those given out during treasure hunts :)..
There are 7 points neatly marked out. We begin and walk along with the group. In a while everyone meanders off into their own private spaces. Just like any other journey a tour of an island is always a very personal thing.

The world is my canvas..

We peek down from where we walk. The cliff is full of birds. Right below us cormorants hang their wings out to dry.  The Shetlands are home to millions of birds. The sky and water is alive with life.

Cormorants, sitting by the cliffs and hanging their wings out to dry..

Endless Blue..

The grass is soft. Our legs tire easily. Every step seems to sink into the soft ground beneath. Its not very good for the legs, S comments. In the very ancient Scandinavian 'Old Norse' tongue, Mousa would mean Moss island and this is probably why. The island is teeming with life. There are no trees as with most of Shetlands. But grass abounds. We are so close to the poles we realize; Almost at the Earth's end.

A Fulmar sits on a rocky ledge..

The rocks are spotted with yellow patches. Inch closer and its algae we realize. They look more like a splash of the gorgeous afternoon sun drying up on the huge wet rocks. Unbelievably beautiful.

Walking down Mousa.. 

As we walk on, the marking on the map become less understandable. We try to make sense of the turns we seem to take. We walk upto what looks like a rocky wall. Some of the others who got there ahead of us seem to be looking out in silence. We read the sign which says the spot is perfect to view Seals and Otters. We stand there for a while. Couple of Fulmars swoop ahead. They seem to be flying low. 

We probably are very close to their nesting grounds.  We are right in the middle of what is rightly their home and they will do everything they have to to defend it. Walking a little way beyond the wall we see why. We guessed right on this ocassion. We see the wall has fulmars sitting along its length  in different places. Their body language says 'Do not Disturb'..

The Iron age  Broch in a distance

We walk on and a huge stone like structure looms on the horizon. This is Mousa's most famous inhabitant; A 2000 year old iron-age structure - 'The Mousa Broch'.  We walk upto this stone built castle and look up to see it towering 43 feet above us. We walk in. A comment on anything as old  as the Broch comes automatically prefixed with probably and so it goes that this was probably used in defense or maybe even as some sort of status symbol. Mentioned in old texts as a hideout for eloping lovers , there are 120 other such Brochs through the Shetlands.

A closer look at the Broch..

Standing in a circular clearing , the walls tower over us. There are torch lights kept aside for those who want to explore. I am suddenly claustrophobic. We can hear signs of activity in these walls. This is where the smallest bird of the Shetlands, The Stormy Petrels come to nest. But to see them we have to visit by night as these tiny birds not much bigger than a sparrow are off to the feeding grounds by day. The Stormy Petrel , of which there are 10000 nesting pairs here in the islands, fly along the Arctic and look for Plankton on which they feed. The broch lays claim to being UK's biggest Bird Box!!

Inside the Broch..

We can climb to the very top, someone is already there before us so we wait our turn. But then we abandon the pursuit as the walls are too narrow.

Walking up..

We walk away looking back. The blue seas and the bluish sky makes for a beautiful setting. If there was a god he would have to be an artist, probably impressionist ;)

On the other side of the Broch..

We walk up a little higher. The grass gets thicker. Our senses perk up. Its amazing how even after millions of years of the human civilization living in cities we have not lost our instinct to survive. Our ears hear more clearly and our eyes catch sight of the slightest of movements. Suddenly two big brown birds emerge into view. They are sitting on the high ground. We did not know then, but we had come face to face with the 'Great Skua' or 'Bonxie' as it is more commonly called. They along with gulls and terns nest inland. Each pair could be guarding a nest with upto two eggs or chicks even and are known to dive bomb people who get too close. Everything about their aggressive body language tells us to run and in retrospect it was a little foolish to stop to take pictures. But in my defense I did capture the posturing male.

A  pair of Great Skuas...

We beat a hasty retreat and our map doesn't say much. We are lost we admit. We check how we are doing on time. We have a little over an hour to find our way back. Reconstructing scenarios of people lost on lonely islands I become a traveling companion's worst nightmare.

Evening glory..

We get to a point and realize we are inside the area where seals come to nest. In a distance we can see them. We stand quietly watching.

Seals in the wild..

The Shetlands are home to two kinds of seals - 'The Grey Seals' and 'Harbour Seals',  told apart by the shape of their snouts.  What looks like an inland pond we discover later is one of the largest nesting places for seals. We can see a few in a distance

The grey seal

I really need to zoom in. Its so beautiful, primeval even. There are no sounds except for an occasional bird calling out to another or screaming out its isolation to the skies.

The wind blows, the sun is  getting hot against my bare skin, my feet are grass tired and my partner is anxious. Reluctantly we walk. We are not sure if we we are on the right track but we know its time to find out. We see others walking back to the boat in a distance. Suddenly hungry we split an energy bar and gulp down the last bit of water we have left.

Puffin in a distance..

We take the boat back. That night we sleep , almost dreamless. We discuss it the next day over a hot steaming cup of tea...
Its probably more fresh air than we can take, S comments.. I have to smile! :)

Three Days in Shetlands...

And so we were off. With Inverness behind us and on the road to Aberdeen , I read as much as I can about the Shetlands. This is what brought us to Scotland. It all started with a brilliant program on the BBC called 'The Shetland Diaries'. Even though vicarious, every episode brought with it a sense of wonder- Birds of every colour and WHALES!...
Unfortunately we don't have much time on our hands at Aberdeen. Its more a stop over.
We catch the first flight to Lerwick tomorrow... Here we come!!

A Game of Cricket in the English Countryside..

At some point, I reach for a cap. The sun can look innocuous, beguiling even, the temptation to feel the warm tingle on my skin overriding any caution of sitting out in the open for too long. We are here to watch a game of cricket. But for me cricket is only a backdrop (Shame on me , I can see the spouse frown :)). Don't blame me , look how beautiful it is around. When we entered Eynsford, we had to stop by the little river 'Darent', teeming with people, kids playing in the water, swans and duck merrily wading about, people picnicking on the Grass. Summer ravished, Eynsford had the prettiest pubs. We would enter one only to leave as it was too posh and not nearly as pub like as we would have liked it to be. Soon we were seated outside on the wooden benches so characteristic of this country. The
gentle breeze cool against the sun kissed afternoon. The boys didn't want to eat too heavy cause of the game at hand, but what was that to us:). To fore go a pub lunch would be a cardinal sin. I savor the Ravioli, but have to admit that I can't finish my portion inspite of a bet with S that I would. In my defence the portions were deceptively large!

We saunter back to the ground. I have a book, which remained unopened for most of the afternoon. The car is parked close enough. We sit in front of a tree , which seems to have come alive with spring, white petals rain down and I collect a few to accentuate my idleness :).



The game is about to begin and the ground where the action is about to unfold has been around since the 18 hundreds. The river hugs the ground , and beautiful weeping willows stand around and I remember Virginia Wolf - "On the further bank the willows wept in perpetual lamentation, their hair about their shoulders. The river reflected whatever it chose of sky and bridge and burning tree, and when the undergraduate had oared his boat through the reflections they closed again, completely, as if he had
never been"...

The Church spire stands tall , magnificently brown in a blur of green. As we watch a pair of mallards fly over the grounds. We discuss the mechanics of mallard flight. They could not have flown too far, probably just over the ground, we decide ; cause the mallards are relatively big birds and flying is an energy expensive operation...

Wickets fall and the game proceeds at a steady pace. The sun climbs further up. The boys join us having batted and we take a walk around the ground. This time we get a little more adventurous and jump into the river. The river is shallow , and we are fooled by the happy children fishing for tadpoles in its merry waters. We step in and the cold water is electric against my warm feet. I stay in just long enough to get pictures. Once outside I can feel the rush of blood, the invigorating cold waters sending tingles up my feet. We walk on the grass. Its soon time for tea and cakes and the boys take the field.



We decide to take a walk. The town itself is not very big. Big brown cows graze on the verdant green grass. They look happy. They turn into tiny specks as we walk up a small hill and then altogether disappear. More dramatic greens and yellows emerge into view. But first we must cross the railways tracks, where only moments ago A train seemed to have whizzed past. We approach cautiously. There really is nothing worth stopping for in sight. And we hop across quickly into the fields of gold. The horizon is a pale blue and theres not a cloud in sight. The Rape seed fields are gloriously yellow. I stop to smell them, and get some pollen on my nose and my friend laughs in amusement.
Rape Seeds are 'break crops' (rotational crops) and the name comes from the Latin word 'rapum' meaning turnip. We stroll over to the other side and then try to find our way round the hill, only to be thwarted in the attempt by a steep drop onto the motorway.



We walk right back along and take a differnt route down, as we discuss the absence of potential slythering threats in the English countryside. We have both travelled in the subcontinent, where snakes abound and the chances of provoking one of them into a bite in self defence by encroaching into their territory(like paddy fields) are plenty. This time around we are lucky and can find our way down.



We pass a Roman Bridge, a truely beautiful piece of architecture providing semi circular frames for the scenary beyond.



Between discussing the choice of being vegetarian (which can be sometimes hard to explain)
and other things of extraordinary importance we find our way to the grounds again. There still 20 odd overs for the game to get done and we begin to count it down.



Every now and then the ball would fall into the river and would have to be ferried out resulting in frequent interruptions of play. A bunch from the fielding team stand around the water, and then someone is brave enough to get into the icy cold river :). Some stand and watch from afar. It starts to get chilly as evening approaches and we get out coats..

When its finally done, we drive back home and enjoy a nice cup of english tea , a perfect end to a beautiful summer's day. :)

Meena Venkataraman

Castlecombe..

After our recent trip to South America, our choice of a place to visit to mark the first anniversary fell on someplace quiet :). A little English village would be perfect..
And it was easy to find Castlecombe, the prettiest village in England in 1962 as most articles on the net described.
In the heart of Wiltshire and a little away from the city of Bath, The closest station to Castlecombe was Chippenham. With A journey time of little over an hour from Paddington, London we reached the Chippenham station a little past 3:00 PM. From there we were told the best place way to get to Castlecombe would be to take a Taxi. We got off from the taxi and walked a bit, only to find that we were at the end of the village.

Our stay for our little holiday was 'The Georgian House'  owned by Lady Long, our delightful hostess.
It was a very cold day, colder than any we had seen so far that winter.  So it was good to be indoors and we spent most of the evening talking to Long  about the village and planning what we could do during our stay there.

Our Stay..

  After Breakfast, we set out discovering the village. It has just begun to snow and the entire village truly looked frozen in time. It was cold , but lovely and we walked on.

The Market Square stands in the center of the village. When this structure was built is not known. The village website says it was in use around 1590 , when  most of the villagers were involved in the clothe industry. The brook further down which we would pass by was the primary supply of water for industry.
As with the history of most places it is mostly the river which sustains life. and in this village it was this little brook which nurtured the woolen industry around the area. Things changed in the  17th century when the decrease in water levels saw weavers migrate to other places around Castlecombe.

The Market Place..

Though several houses have been rebuilt, Castlcombe still retains its distinct character.
It was lovely walking through the narrow streets, with the snow coming down..
Traces of brown still pepped through white sugar coated roof tops. The creeping cold was a constant reminder that there were warmer places like the village pub that we could head to. But we kept walking.

A view of the Village

We passed the little brook and found that we were lost.  A passerby gave us the secret to unlocking the door leading up to the manor hotel :).  Tea at the hotel we decided.

On one of our walks..

The Manor hotel is one of the architecturally renowned buildings in Castlecombe and is as old as 1664.  We were told that the house along with the manor was put on auction in 1947. We walk around the sprawling green surrounding the hotel , and cross the little bridge. We head into the hotel and treat ourselves to a welcome cup of steaming coffee.  We walk past the hotel, and find that we are now behind St Andrew's Church.

The Manor Hotel..

A 13th century monument, the church is beautiful.  Its amazing that there is so much history woven into the  the relics here; A monument to Sir Walter de Dunstanville, Baron of Castle Combe, who died in 1270,  and a clock believed to be one of the oldest working ones there is..

St Andrew's Church

But what really caught my eye was the beautiful stained glass paintings along the windows of the church. The light filtering into this place of beautiful quiet made it all seem dreamlike.

Inside St Andrew's Church

The first of our walks donw, we went down to the local pub for lunch, Large portions and beautifully flavored English food.  The best Jacket Potatoes I've eaten so far.  :)

Row of Houses.

For the second of our walks, we decide it would be wise to ask for advise. Our hostess gives us a book and a map.. We think this should suffice.  This time we are walking over the hills.
Before Castlecombe came to be an important center for the wollen industry, it was a British fort, tkaen over by the Romans and then the Normans.. The Normans built a fort , the remains of which we are told can be seen on the hill..

The Village Bridge..

We cross the village bridge again and head straight up. Theres a little brooke that seems to be traveling along with us. We take a small road on the side of the brooke as shown on the map and head up straight. A Wooden Gate seems to be the first indication that we are indeed on the right trail.
As we move along the frosted furrows ,  bits of the brown earth seem to peep through. We are careful as we walk along. Autumn is still stubbornly standing her ground and the red foliage against the backdrop of the fresh snow is amazing.

A walk through the wilderness

Berries on Trees

We reach the very top from where we can see the village church.  its a beautiful sight. We can see the neatly spaces stone houses of the village from here. We now trek down and the road meets the motorway  which leads us back to the Market place.

 "The Woods are Lovely, Dark and Deep..
But I have promises to Keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.."


- Robert Frost

A view of the church from the hilltop

We rest a while and then head out to have dinner . A beautiful two days, and we end on a celebratory note. S tried the Salmon , a recommendation by our hostess. We talk about how time seems to fly..Its been a year already :)
Down to the village pub after dinner and we already seem to know a lot of faces. Everybody seems friendly and as usual sport seems to be the conversation starter... A link across cultures :). This time it was Rugby scores.

The little celler inside the B&B where we stayed..

At Breakfast the next day, we talk to Lady Long. As always travel conversations span the length of the world. Lady Long told us about her time here and then we begin religon and religious beliefs. Theres a beautiful cellar in the house full of intresting relics of the Greek orthodox church. I am amazed.
I discover yet again that the need to relate to a higher power comes from an ingrained need for succor, to make meaning in an ever changing world. And the need not to strangely comes from the same..
I have for long now decided against the use of labels and so I stay non committal in my beliefs. The truth is not always black and white , but a somber shade of pretty Grey :).

Castlecombe has been truly wonderful and we shall come by to see her again.

Autumn in Greenwich..

I come form a country of two seasons, - Summer and Winter. Winter is just summer to a milder degree and nothing else :). So Autumn swept me away with all its beautiful colours.
Spring was pretty, Green and young and full of the laughter of gentle winds, Spring fell and then there was Autumn- The reds, the browns, the yellows, I loved them all!
So one lazy Sunday we decided to take the bus to Greenwich which is my favorite place in the whole of London. A walk down the park with all its ravishing colours, was the perfect end to a busy week.













I would have loved to stay longer. But this time of the year also means we move into darkness early. So it was time to head home.

Luv
M