Eastbourne Airbourne

Mrs C and I went to the coast yesterday to Eastbourne to see the annual air show called 'Eastbourne Airborne' which is one of the few free air displays still going strong. Although we have lived in East Sussex for eight years this is the first time that we have managed to visit this show and it was well worth the effort.

When we arrived in town we decided to get something to eat so I suggested that we do the traditional sea side thing.

"Why don't we have fish and chips and eat them as we walk along the prom"

Mrs C replied "I'm not doing that we'll get attacked by penguins"

"I'd pay money to see that" I said "As they live in the antarctic"

"Not penguins, I mean sea gulls" she retorted as we both fell about laughing.

So instead we had an excellent lunch at 'Bills' sitting outside on a pavement table watching a constant stream of people heading for the beach equipped with camp chairs, binoculars and cameras with very large lenses.

After lunch we made our way to the promenade where we eventually found a place to watch the display from, standing room only at this stage. We arrived just as the RAF typhoon Eurofighter was showing off it's speed and agility and I was thinking that I would not want to be on the receiving end of it's payload of weaponry. In complete contrast the next aircraft to pass was a spitfire the iconic plane from the Battle of Britain which was well received by the spectators who waved as it finished it's display.

For me though the highlight of the show was the Vulcan Bomber a relic of the cold war of the nineteen-sixties and seventies. This was the only one of it's kind still flying and  Eastbourne Airborne was to be one of it's last air displays as soon it would be grounded due to there being a lack of spare parts to keep it air worthy.The last time that a Vulcan was flown in anger was during the Falklands war when a single aircraft flew non stop from the UK undergoing several air to air refuelling's to bomb the runway at Port Stanley which was occupied by the Argentinian forces.

A very nice lady standing next to us made me smile with a story that she related to us about an incident that she had just witnessed a little further along the prom towards Beachy Head. It occurred at a section of beach that was taped off as a sterile area for parachutists to land safely after their display. Apparently a rather arrogant man decided to go swimming from this area and refused to leave the water when challenged by the life guards. A spectator seeing this altercation picked up the swimmers pile of clothes and towel and threw them into the sea to much applause from the rest of the spectators. This got the swimmer out of the water pretty quickly and although I can't condone the actions of the spectator it does seem like a kind of poetic justice.

We had a great day out at Eastbourne starting with a delicious lunch followed by  the brilliant Air show and on the way home we called in at Mrs C's mother for afternoon tea. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday.

Little Dog has gone

It's raining outside as I sit here writing this short post for my blog which seems quite appropriate really as we had to have Little dog put to sleep last night. I am not writing this post because I want sympathy, only to say that even though she has gone I will keep the blog title in memory of her. This morning however the old homestead seems really quiet and empty without her curled up on the sofa next to me snoring loudly.

We've known all summer that Little dog was approaching her final days and that it was just a matter of time. She was nearly fifteen years old which is a good age for a Springer Spaniel. She had slowed down a lot, had cataracts in both eyes, was partially deaf and very wobbly on her feet but still got very excited when I produced her lead ready for her walk.

Little dog has been off colour for the past few days and yesterday evening she developed breathing problems so we took her to our Vets where the decision was taken to put her to sleep. She passed away very peacefully with Mrs C and myself stroking her head and back and shedding a few tears.

We thought that we were going to lose her last August after her severe ear infection but thanks to the professionalism, care and dedication of our Vets we had Little dog Hollie (Kennel club name 'Starfly Em') for an extra year for which we are eternally grateful. So a big thank you to all the staff  at Uckfield Vets, Starnes, Blowey, Wood & Turrell.

The Lyke Wake Walk (Part One)

Some years ago I read about a challenge walk across the North Yorkshire moors from Osmotherley in the west to Ravenscar on the coast in the east. The crossing covers a distance of forty two miles sticking principally to the heather clad high moorland with very few roads. The name of this crossing is The Lyke Wake Walk and it gets its title from the practice of carrying the dead from outlying hamlets to holy ground where the deceased would be given a Christian burial. In the old Yorkshire dialect a Lyke is a dead person and a Wake is the practice of keeping watch over the deceased until they are buried.

This was a walk that I added to my Bucket list along with the Camino de Santiago de Compostella and The Pennine Way. Being an Ex-Serviceman and Police Officer I tend to have a very dark sense of humour and the thought of following an ancient coffin road really appealed to me. My good friend and walking pal Neill approached me a few months ago and asked if I was still interested in completing this challenge as he was planning on undertaking it with a team of Volunteer Police Cadets from Bromley. Like a fool I committed myself to this challenge.......and if we had known what we were about to go through we should all have been committed under the Mental Health Act for even thinking about it.

To complete the challenge and be eligible to join the exclusive Lyke Wake Club you must succeed in walking the distance within twenty-four hours. This would be a fairly easy undertaking if the route ran through Norfolk, Holland or Denmark. Unfortunately it doesn't, it runs through some pretty tough terrain with a great number of steep ascents and descents and a very large peat bog in the middle of it. The weather can also cause problems for prospective walkers so a rucksack containing waterproofs, spare fleece, hat, gloves, water, food, emergency bivvy bag, first aid kit, map and compass also had to be carried.

The walk can be done either unsupported or supported with a back up team in a vehicle who can meet the walkers at check points along the route with food, drinks etc. Being responsible adults (I know I can't believe that I said that either) we decided to have a support team in a minibus. They would meet us where the route bisected a number of small roads of varying distances apart along the way. The furthest distance between the check points was ten miles and the shortest was 1.3 miles, but this was at the very end.

We spent the night before the start in the excellent Youth Hostel at Cote Ghyll on the edge of Osmotherley only a short distance from the official start line at Scarth Wood Moor. We were due to commence the challenge at 3.30 a.m. so decided on an early night, however as every body was hyped up for the off we didn't manage more than about three hours sleep. There was also a group of teenagers from a church group in Florida staying at the hostel and we stayed up later than we intended talking to them. They were very pleasant with superb manners and they also promised to keep the noise down when they went to bed so as not to disturb us. But as you know, teenagers are teenagers no matter where they are from and although they tried their best to whisper it was a very loud whisper. I woke up at two a.m. to the low base throb of a music system that one of them had forgotten to switch off. So much for feeling refreshed ready for the day!

Note: The two maps shown above were taken (with thanks) from the Lyke Wake Club website and the satellite view was taken from a photograph on the wall of Cote Ghyll Youth Hostel

Kingstanding - The Pigsty

Up on top of the Forest at Kingstanding there are a lot of derelict buildings, many of which have been boarded up and fenced off as they contain asbestos, a legacy of when they were built during the war. All of the buildings served important roles in supporting the radio transmitters and each one was given a designated number which can still be seen painted on the brickwork today. Some of them have also been given unofficial names as well such as the rotunda and the cinema. 

The majority of these buildings are located within the inner compound set around the road circuit in close proximity to the bunker. There is one very small building though that is set apart form the rest standing all alone in the outer compound half way between the inner and outer fences. An overgrown concrete path leads directly to it from an old rusted up gate adjacent to the bunker. Designated Building 35, however on the old maps it is actually named as The Pigsty and is still known by that name today.

I know very little about what Building 35 was used for but I do know for certain that it was never a home for pigs. In it's hey day the pigsty was surrounded by several large aerial masts which give a clue as to what purpose it served. I understand that it was used either as a switching system enabling different transmitters to be connected to, or disconnected from the circuit for maintenance purposes, or as an antenna tuning station.

You can't enter the pigsty these days because the locks have seized up with age, however it is possible to look inside through the missing window panes and broken door slats. Inside you can see what appear to be large radio valves and other paraphernalia from the golden age of wireless telegraphy.I love the history and the feeling of abandonment in this place and also the wonderful colours and textures caused by years of exposure to the seasons. Hopefully my photographs convey this scene of dereliction accurately.

My Camino de Santiago - An Oasis in Spain

After a very simple peregrinos dinner that included garlic soup with soggy bread floating in it I went to my bunk and slept like a log. The following morning I decided to forego the breakfast on offer as it consisted only of cafe con leche and sugary cakes. Outside in the courtyard I brewed up some tea on my little gas stove which I shared with Pablo, while we waited for Jacques who succumbed to the temptation for sugar. A decision that he later regretted when they charged him five euros for this meagre offering.

Our destination for today is the small town of Shahagun the site of a battle in the winter of 1808 during Sir John Moores retreat to Corunna in the Peninsula campaign when the British 15th Light Dragoons saw off two regiments of French cavalry. It was a short walk of only twelve kilometres which hopefully would allow my aching leg to rest and heal. It was also roughly the half way point of the Camino Frances.

A few kilometres into our stroll we came across what seemed like an oasis in the middle of this vast flat plain. A small private hostel run by a German woman and her Spanish husband who she met several years earlier whilst walking the Camino herself. It was spotlessly clean and delightfully decorated in the southern German style plucked straight out of the schwartzwald. For three euros fifty I had a delicious breakfast consisting of Greek yogurt, a banana and a massive mug of coffee.

Looking out of the window across the street I noticed several little houses dug into the small hillside. On closer inspection it seemed that we had walked into Tolkien's Shire as the small dwellings appeared to be Hobbit holes complete with grass roofs with chimneys poking out. Apparently these houses are actually used for storing food and wine although I noticed that at least one of them had a television aerial.

We arrived at Shahagun by 11:30 am and booked into the municipal Albergue which was located in a church. All three of us were suffering from various muscle strains in our legs so we took some time to rest and recuperate. A little later we went exploring the town and discovered a bar that sold cold beer and hamburgers. We were in heaven and devoured them with gusto. What a fantastic way to end to the day!