Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Sunday, September 09, 2007
F1 Widow!
Since Terry is watching the Italina Gran Prix, I have an opportunity to continue my saga as promised.






At this point, we are staying near Oban and enjoying the watery delights of the Inner Hebribes. We were regaled with common seals, atlantic seals, riptides and the above shags on the aforementioned sea-fari.
On our walk up Glen Nevis, we really did witness a singular celebration of water.

A Sikh family had actually planted the picnic table IN the river and were having their snap whilst doing silly things with water and giggling a lot - maybe it's an ancient tradition on the subcontinent!
And further up the valley - of course, the Glen Nevis falls:

Water, water everywhere round these parts -


We felt we had to visit Gen Orky, too, to reawaken fond memories of lovely waterscapes, first visited many moons ago when on holiday in Scotland with the children.
Wow! Driving there, sporting, of course, our Spanish number plate, a couple wound down their car window and shouted "¡hola!", like yer do. At this spot, we met them and spoke Spanish with each other for about 5 minutes, when the penny dropped with both of us. They were Scottish and I have to say her Spanish was much better than mine!
So they graciously created a very rare thing - a picture of Terry and me TOGETHER!

Other hi-lites of our holiday:
Judy & Terry finally converted to the delicious world of sushi!
Friday, September 07, 2007
Agua
Hello to any readers who have not become totally bored because of the lack of recent entries and stopped looking.
Terry and I last saw this one in 2003. We used to take Miriam and Mamie off for a week each year to the haunts of their distant youth, sometime end May/beginning June. We'd eat with M & M morning and evening and spend some days with them, but we'd also escape for the odd walk or three, filming what we saw to show them our escapades in the evening. We were staying in Bowes (which still is, despite the official map, and according to the local publican, in YORKSHIRE) and we were privileged to witness Low Force and High Force (there's that word again). But this little laddie was not in spate like this. even in those fairly recent days.
West Burton Falls. Now, when we four were staying in the cottage next door to this beauty, we'd walk round the corner, gin and tonics in hand, and raise a glass to it. It's not famous but it's lovelier than all of them - never ceases to delight. If you're in the locality, look it up on the map and go there. And don't fail to put at least a one-pound coin in the slot to help its upkeep by local volunteers.
Our hearts went out to all those back home who suffered the pain of totally unprecedented huge amounts of unwanted water. And this still makes us sad. We witnessed some signs of the aftermath in Sheffield when we visited Jo ad we still see tales of longterm misery on UK TV.
However, this page is a celebration of water.
This, believe it or not, is Hardraw Force. ('Force' is an interesting word, if you happen to be into cognitives; the Swedish word for a waterfall in 'fors', pronounced 'fosh' - so there you are.) But the main point is that you have to walk through a pub and pay a couple of quid to see it - no hardship there, then! Now here on in, I'm not very clear, because it was a very long time ago, but my family and I used to take visitors to see it. Maybe Rita (correct me if I'm wrong, my dear), maybe Kjetil (Norwegian) and maybe Svante (Swedish). Certainly the Scandinavian contingency were unimpressed; although falling from a significant height, Hardraw was always a wee thin wisp of a thing in my youth. Just look at it now, and who's that wee thin wisp if a thing below it?
There's more.
Terry and I last saw this one in 2003. We used to take Miriam and Mamie off for a week each year to the haunts of their distant youth, sometime end May/beginning June. We'd eat with M & M morning and evening and spend some days with them, but we'd also escape for the odd walk or three, filming what we saw to show them our escapades in the evening. We were staying in Bowes (which still is, despite the official map, and according to the local publican, in YORKSHIRE) and we were privileged to witness Low Force and High Force (there's that word again). But this little laddie was not in spate like this. even in those fairly recent days.
Before we left the Yorkshire Dales, we just had to visit our (Mamie, Miriam, Terry & Judy -'s) all-time favourite:
West Burton Falls. Now, when we four were staying in the cottage next door to this beauty, we'd walk round the corner, gin and tonics in hand, and raise a glass to it. It's not famous but it's lovelier than all of them - never ceases to delight. If you're in the locality, look it up on the map and go there. And don't fail to put at least a one-pound coin in the slot to help its upkeep by local volunteers.
I did mention Sheffield, didn't I? Despite the residents' problems, the local council celebrate water there too, in Peace Square, with fountains:

and balls.
Moving swiftly on from Yorkshire to the Inner Hebrides, we have to digress from agua and indulge in a little silliness:
Dorothy hats - that's a phrase only understood by our kids - an maybe by Debbie. Dotty had these things on the ends of her sofa and easychair arms that always got dislodged and ended up on someone's head. In our 'lodge' near Oban, there they were again.
Still silly, but water related nevertheless, is Judy kitted up for our 'Sea-fari':
As Terry's mother, Grace, used to say, "More tomorrow", or soon, anyway..