Offord Cluny and Godmanchester circular

Led by Barry, with me and Gordon. Track walking, then riverside. Clear paths, very flat, dry underfoot apart from a small section in Portholme Park. Just over 9 miles. Weather mostly dry, some sun, a couple of showers. Cold wind. Coffee and a toasted teacake in Godmanchester.

Photos taken with Fujifilm FinePix L55 - my very cheap point and shoot.

Offord Cluny church

We leave the church behind us and turn right past the village hall, and then left along New Road, heading east. This soon becomes narrow, and climbs up gently to reach Waterloo Farm. Here it becomes a bridleway, and turns slightly to the right, then due south for a hundred or so yards, before swinging left and due east once more. Before long it joins a north-south bridleway - with signposts.



We take the route to Godmanchester - north. It descends gently for almost 2 miles into the town. This is part of the Pathfinder Long Distance Walk
The Pathfinder Walk (46 miles) was designed by the RAF as a heritage trail in memory of the RAF Pathfinder Force and links up the 4 airfields (Wyton, Graveley, Oakington and Warboys) used by the Pathfinders when they were set up in 1942. The route runs through farmland, fen and open heath but also has some road walking.

Godmanchester

There is a friendly café, so we stop for a break and elevenses.

The Queen Elizabeth Grammar School

In May 1561, at the request of the townspeople, Queen Elizabeth I issued letters-patent granting her name to the school.



The two pictures below are of a building erected in 1844 by one mayor, Edwd Martin and enlarge in 1899 by another mayor, W. Gadsby.


I like the chimneys.

messing about on the river

The view should improve when the construction work is finished

The Chinese Bridge

We cross the bridge into the lovely riverside parkland, but have to pause to shelter from a sudden hailstorm.



We walk as far as Portholme Meadow, reputed to be the largest meadow in England. It was formed from silt when the Great Ouse flooded, and according to the info board it still floods in the winter. It's covered with buttercups and a small pink flower at present.



We're now walking along the Ouse Valley Way, and follow the path.

Comfrey flowers by the path

We see Hinchingbrooke Castle on our right, before the path turns south close to the river.

Hinchingbrooke Castle has sprouted a phone mast

The trees and hedge shelter us effectively from the wind, and we're tempted by a picnic table and bananas at a Brampton pond in a conservation area.

Pond and conservation area

We make our way past Buckden Marina with its very upmarket chalets and boats, and arrive back at Offord Lock. It's a short walk to the car.

Wildlife - the usual swans, geese, ducks, a couple of terns, some swifts.

Scarred

It has been suggested in some places that I am too cynical for someone of my age (28). Sadly, there are one or two other things that are happening too quickly for my liking too. A couple of weeks ago I pointed out that I was showing the first signs of skin cancer. Well, at the time I went off to see the doctor (who I'm going to start calling Frank, as in Zappa) and got the sunspot zapped. Most of it cleared up, but some remained, so I went and had the treatment again on Saturday. Now it appears to be gone completely, but it left a decent sized red mark on my face as a reminder.
I'm now beginning to suspect that this red mark isn't going to go away. I've seen people who have spent too much time in the sun when they were younger, and if it's a reliable indication, my face is going to look worse than a teenager with chronic acne by the time I'm 40. I guess that's the price I have to pay for my otherwise wonderful lifestyle. Perhaps it's not so bad though, I've never exactly been a big hit with the ladies, so it's not as though it's going to drive anyone away.
Still, it would have been nice had it waited for another eleven days -- as in after I go and see Sarah Blasko.

The concrete shore

Beside the entrance to the port of Leith is a housing development. Tall, anonymous-in-a-European-way blocks of flats stand on infilled land that used to be part of the harbour. The path that leads past them is our nearest access to the shore, good for looking across the Forth to the hills of Fife, or westwards towards the Forth bridges and the sunset. The blocks of flats I find strangely desolate, so I prefer to look at the firth as it opens up towards the North Sea.

Yesterday evening the sea was a luminous, icy blue. The setting sun picked out an oil tanker.





Below, the little lighthouse at the end of the harbour breakwater.

Enjoy a Cuppa Today!

This morning I've enjoyed my favorite tea Yorkshire Gold. This afternoon I'll probably have Earl Grey decaf. What's your favorite kind of tea, and when do you have it?

Early sunset

After our day of heavy snow on Monday that brought central Scotland to a standstill, Tuesday was a perfect day of frost and sun. The afterglow of sunset lights up the sky behind Edinburgh Castle. The time is 2.50 p.m. I seem to have a penchant for taking winter sunset photos at 2.50 p.m: I posted an allotment sunset from that time on Sunday at my Slow Growing blog.
For those curious about sunrise time, it was 8.31 a.m. today. Technically sunset is later, at 3.40 at Tuesday, but I judge sunset by when I can't see the sun any more. I have to admit that the bulk of Edinburgh Castle does mean that the sun is hidden that bit earlier, but from where I was standing it felt like sunset for me.
More skies around the world are at Skywatch Friday.

Angels and a Putto in the Kitchen

I am working hard to try to shift the immense sorrow, the weight of sadness, which I have felt for the past few days as my over active imagination has threatened to engulf me.



So, carols play softly in the background as I trim and dress the kitchen, make pomanders to add to my collection - amazing how some made years ago still smell so sweet - and try to get into the right frame of mind.



Life goes on.

I must dig deep and get in touch with lighter feelings, it is too easy for me to sink to the bottom. So, forgive me this trite nonsense.

It is therapeutic, my therapy.



I enjoy Christmas. I love the carols, the candle-lit services, the excitement of watching the children in their Nativity play and I also love the satisfaction of baking and cooking a feast to stave off the chill of winter and to celebrate. I love the smells of spices and baking, the warmth and the joy...cheesy, but true.

Back to the kitchen... I usually cater for large numbers... for the carnivores, vegetarians, pescetarians, and the vegans among us. I try to make sure that everyone will eat festive food. I am not a good cook, I couldn't do it all on my own, I rely on my kitchen assistant of many years ... my little golden putto.



This little putto has watched over my festive culinary adventures for many years.

The golden putto is aided and assisted by a whole host of kitchen angels, bought one at a time over the years. I now have quite a collection of them, they all work hard to help me.





Some are now beginning to look a little worse for wear, with fallen halos and dishevelled hair and I could swear that some of the expressions are mischievous, rather than angelic...

Luckily, this year I don't have to feed an army on Christmas Day...



Instead, after a morning of fun and merry-making with the grandchildren and family, George and I will take old Toby for a good walk, call in to see Arnold and take him some Christmas treats before coming home to relax and eat a quiet and festive buffet, the kind which we normally enjoy on Boxing Day.



No cooking required...surely a little miracle!

Fiery Festival Farewell

After the end of the Fringe, it's the turn of the highbrow Festival to say farewell to its orchestras, opera and dance companies from across the world. The Festival's final act is an evening fireworks concert on Sunday, with the Castle providing the launch pad and backdrop for the fireworks, and music coming from the Scottish Chamber Orchestra live in the gardens below. This year it's a Russian and Eastern European programme of Glinka, Borodin, Sibelius, Nielsen and Tchaikovsky.
All across the city preparations are underway. The road closure signs have gone up. The great British traffic cone is sprouting along key routes where people might be tempted to park and watch the show. It's very much an 'on foot' event. My children will be watching from the vantage point of a hill to the south of the city centre, which will mean a bracing climb. On Sunday evening the streets and footpaths will have a steady movement of people walking into the centre of town. I love this pedestrian, in the literal sense, aspect of the evening.
While the concert is sponsored by big money - Virgin Money this year, it is part of the 'feel' of the city, and enters into everyday life. As in the sign outside the Artisan Roast coffee shop on Broughton Street. As a local, you know what to look for that tells you how the preparations are doing. So looking up at the Castle from Princes Street yesterday, I noticed something different about the battlements. The usual tourist figures were there.

But look more closely and you'll see that what you might have taken for white-clad tourists (rash in this weather, but possible) are actually firework preparation thingies. I don't have a clue what they are, but they're definitely part of the big build-up.

My firework photography skills are hopeless, so I'm not promising any photos this year. However, my children might oblige, and I'm going on a photo course in the autumn which might improve my skills.