Four Rivers

Spent the last week walking in the lovely surroundings of the mid Tees valley. Barnard Castle is a super base for a holiday: it has good walking straight from the town as well as further afield, good shops, friendly locals and as well as a proper castle an excellent museum, the Bowes Museum.

Here's a selection of photos from our walks:

The River Greta at Brignall Banks.

A tricky walk, this, and our first day out. The paths were a popular route in the 19th and early 20th century, and the valley a popular beauty spot. But two wet summers have encouraged many small land-slips, and the paths manage to be both steep and muddy. Worse though was the public footpath which crosses a side river with no bridge or stepping stones. We chose to retrace our steps and detoured via side roads to our starting point rather than get wet feet.

The River Tees near Mickleton.

This gives a hint of the landscape beyond: wild, open, speckled with white buildings of the Raby Estate. A rare place, one of my favourites. Memories of plant-hunting trips out from Newcastle University.

The River Tees at Abbey Bridge.

This is further downstream, but a very different character. The abbey is Eggleston Abbey, an atmospheric ruin.

The River Wear at Durham.

We went to Durham to see what turned out to be an excellent exhibition 'Unpopular Culture' curated by Grayson Perry. It was at the Durham Light Infantry museum, which seemed slightly incongrous, but it is in a 1960s modernist building in landscaped grounds, which was ideal for a selection of mainly paintings and photographs from the middle years of the 20th century. The military part of the museum was very good too, very thought-provoking. We also had to have a visit to the fabulous cathedral, which just amazes every time.

The River Swale at Richmond.

We visited Richmond on the way back south. It has a castle, rather more spectacular than Barnard's ; a river, ditto; and a picturesque town square. Still prefer Barney though!

So we had a great week with great weather for late December. Already planning next year's trip... might be Middleton-in-Teesdale... we did want to go back to Grassington and hope for better weather... and then there's the North York Moors again...

Addition to Books of the Year...

...the rather fantastic and at times fantastical 'Bad Science'. Even though I read the Guardian Bad Science articles every week, and catch up with more bad science on the website, I still found this Christmas present almost up-put-downable and had read it by the end of Sunday. MARVEL at the cons which clever entrepreneurs concoct. GASP at the scientific ignorance of most journalists. GROAN at the way in which newspapers control what we hear about health discoveries. Featuring the famous poo doctor and many other purveyors of pills and chemical-free claptrap.

Season's Greetings

I'm off for a well-deserved break in Barnard Castle over Christmas. All this volunteering and domestic goddessing is very tiring!

I hope you all have a good time this Christmas, and let's keep our fingers crossed for the New Year.

I am a domestic goddess...

Over the last few weeks I have made:

• four dozen mince pies (with homemade mincemeat)
• 7 jars of blackberry and apple jam
• 5 jars of rhubarb and ginger jam (I was given the rhubarb by a stranger at a bus stop)
• 5 jars of summer fruits jam
• 11 jars of apple chutney
• three trays of whisky-soaked ginger chocolates
• 8 pots of assorted plant cuttings and
• two jerusalem artichoke beds

So I think I must be a domestic goddess ... or at least I would be but I don't have the front!

Books of the Year

Thought I'd follow the example of the quality broadsheets that I peruse every weekend and publish my books of the year. It's been a strange year, as most of the books I read were along the lines of Jerry Wellington's 'Teaching and Learning Secondary Science', and Letts' 'Revise GCSE Physics' (a bit ironic as I never did Physics GCSE in the first place), never mind a selection of academic treatises on 'constructivism' by people who never have to work out how to actually teach with it. I did read a terrific book about statistics, called 'The Tiger that Isn't' - honestly, it's really good...

ANYWAY there were many other books which contributed to my generally maintained sanity. You may notice an overall theme.

'Around the World on Two Wheels', by Peter Zheutlin is the story of Annie Londonderry, possibly the first woman to cycle round the world - or possibly not... Whatever the truth, she made some remarkable rides on a fixed-wheel bicycle at a time when a woman wearing trousers to cycle was something very newsworthy, never mind one who'd left three children behind.

'Pedals and Petticoats: on the road in post-war Europe' by Mary Elsy, about four young women who decided to cycle round Europe in 1950, with a single old canvas tent and no idea about cycle repair. An extraordinary tale which only got written when its author was retired.

'Full Tilt' by Dervla Murphy was a book I'd been meaning to read for some time, and was an appropriate book for my long-anticipated cycle tour in September. Earlier in the year I'd read 'Through the Embers of Chaos', a synthesis of several of her cycle rides through Yugoslavia and later, 'former Yugoslavia', and 'Silverland: a winter journey beyond the Urals' which ended up as hardly a cycle ride at all but is none the worse for this. Some people don't like the way Dervla has become more and more political over the years (actually you just have to read her autobiography to realise that she has always been political) but I found the books fascinating, if hard work. 'Full Tilt' is a much earlier book: in 1963 (a good year!) she set off in January across Europe, aiming for India. That the trip through Europe in one of the worst winters in years is dealt with in a prologue gives an impression of the adventures she had further east. She has just published a book about Cuba which promises to be interesting reading.

A change of gender and the addition of an engine! Ted Simon's 'Dreaming of Jupiter' is an equally individual book. A few years ago he decided to re-run a motorbike trip he'd done in the '70s. The trip was round the world, and he was now 69. I'd read his earlier book about the original trip when I still had a bike, and though this is a great read about a great adventure, it didn't make me want to get a motorbike again!

'Pilgrim Snail: busking to Compostela' by Ben Nimmo. I first read (some of) this book when Ben sent weekly updates to the Independent in 1999, which was probably one influence on me taking off across Europe myself a few years later. His walk, busking across Europe with a trombone, was an excellent accompaniment for a few days in Paris in October.

I also read, among others: 'Attention All Shipping' by Charlie Connelly and 'Great British Bus Journeys: Travels Through Unfamous Places' by David McKie, both cheerful reminders last spring that there was life outside four walls.
'A Long Ride For A Pie' by Tim Mulliner was largely interesting for the often stark changes in the countries that Dervla Murphy had travelling through four decades earlier.
'Eating up Italy' by Matthew Fort combines two obsessions: travel and food. Tasty.
'Utopian dreams' by Tobias Jones isn't a dispassionate description of communities with high ideals, and can be equally irritating and engaging. I've read his previous book on corruption in Italian politics and would recommend it to anyone who thinks our politicians are sleazy.
'The Wild Places' by Robert Macfarlane is an equally personal and idiosyncratic series of journeys, but here the aim is to get as much away from people. It's also a link to other, poignant books, 'Waterlog' and 'Wildwood; a journey through trees', both by the late Roger Deakin, and both books I hope to read soon.

I did read a few books which weren't about travel! 'Darwin and the Barnacle' by Rebecca Stott was the book I took to read in my little tent the week after I escaped the classroom. It's a fascinating book, but funnily enough I dozed off instead most evenings!

Vegetable stew with chestnuts

This is a version of a dish I've been cooking for many years. It's infinitely variable according to what vegetables you have available. This was the first time I put chestnuts in: they were a year or so out of date and were part of my cull of 'best-befores' in the pantry. Chestnuts made the stew richer and a good option for veggies to offer non-veggies. As you can see it goes well with the health-giving additions of lots of salad and a glass of red wine.

This isn't really a recipe:

A medium onion
About 4 medium potatoes (waxy ones better)
2 or 3 carrots (depending on size)
1 or 2 parsnips (depending on size)
Other options: turnip, celery, mushroom, red pepper...
Tin/carton of tomatoes
Several sun-dried tomatoes (optional) soaked as per packet instructions
Packet of vacuum-packed or frozen chestnuts (not necessarily out of date - though it didn't seem to make any difference!)
Herbs and pepper

This isn't really a method either:

Slice onion and start saute-ing it gently in a heavy or non-stick pan.
Cut the potatoes into chunks or quarters if very little, and pop into the pan.
Slice or chunk the carrots and add to the pan - keep stirring. Add herbs and pepper - apparently the aromatics dissolve in the oil and make for a better flavour.
Most other veg can be added about now - if they cook quickly add later.
Add the tomatoes - both sorts - and simmer for 5 minutes. Add sliced/choped parsnips and the chestnuts, broken into chunks, and any other quick veg. Simmer for about 10 minutes.

Right, it's 6pm so I've got to go and have some gluglug and crunchcruch!

Critical Mass Legal!

Just found out via the Cyclist's Touring Club's e-newsletter that the law lords have stated that Critical Mass can go ahead without notifying police - see this report. And I see that it's an old acquaintance of mine, Des Kay, who has been at the sharp end of what seems to have been a protracted legal battle to prove that it is legal for people to cycle on the roads. I shall have to take part in Nottingham's Critical Mass now! Looking at those photos of October's meet, I'm sorry I chickened out.

Erbazzone

So, what do I cook for tea? I've lots of chard and cabbage from my volunteering job, there's the odd egg left in the fridge... not looking very exciting... but Antonio to the rescue! 'Erbazzone' is a 'swiss chard tortino', a sort of omelette with lots of chard, breadcrumbs and nutmeg in it. Very tasty.


You'll have to refer to the book in the background - 'Antonio Carluccio's Vegetables' - if you want the recipes. I wouldn't want to infringe the lovely cuddly Antonio's copyright.

And, yes, there is a LOT of cabbage on the plate - I LOVE cabbage!

Road closed

Ulrome, East Yorkshire

More about my East Coast/North Sea cycle ride. A major motivation for starting this trip (assuming that it continues through Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, and on the Belgium, the Netherlands and beyond...) is that it's a bit of a case of 'last chance to see'. The sea is rising - that's a fact. Large chunks of England are disappearing into it - also a fact. I wanted to find out what impact that was having on the local environment and the local people. Not a 'fact-finding' investigative journalism type thing, just I'm really concerned about climate change and what it's going to do to us.

In the event I was surprised how much coastal erosion came up in conversations, only slightly steered by me. A chatty ranger at the WatersEdge visitor centre at Barton-on-Humber 'got serious' and told me about the sea level rise and that a nature reserve along the estuary had recently nearly been lost. A dog-walker at Donna Nook in Lincolnshire told me all about the local anger at possibly losing some of their fields to make salt-marsh to replace some lost because of the work to save Hull from going underwater. In Tunstall I talked to a woman who explained why Holderness seemed so unspoilt: nobody wanted to build if there was no guarantee that the houses would still be there in 100 years. She saw it as a blessing as well as a curse: it kept the village one of traditional farming families.

If you look at the East Coast, you can see that the Holderness coast (from Flamborough Head to Spurn Head) is scooped, whilst the Lincolnshire coast is bulging. That's very simply because the way the sea moves means that the Holderness coast is washed down and lands on Lincolnshire.

It's a complicated area, and there are not the easy answers that some people hope for. The old-fashioned groynes are not being replaced, not just because of money. They didn't work, or if they did locally, somewhere down the coast suffered. Below are some of the photos I took of the most striking impacts of the dynamic coast. They are shown south to north, following my route in some lovely weather in late September.

Below: Easington Beach. The ruined structures out in the sea are World War II defences. Given that they were built about 65 years ago, this demonstrates well how fast the erosion is.

South of Withernsea: you can see the town's lighthouse in the background. The cliff are low, soft clay and the eroded gouges are obvious. The rough grassland in the foreground was prime farmland until a few years ago. Behind me was a row of houses, their sea view closer each year. A team of surveyors were setting up equipment to assess the situation.

This was until a couple of years ago a coastal road, a useful short-cut for residents of Tunstall. A storm undermined the road and the surfacing was removed in case it fell onto people on the beach below. A villager assured me that it was still safe to use: I pushed my bike very carefully as far away from the edge as I could!

Another destroyed coastal lane, this time at Ulrome. In one day's cycle ride I found three such lanes which were on my (new) map but no longer on the Holderness coast. Here I talked to a family who came here regularly. Even they were shocked by how much of the road had gone since their last visit - three months ago.

Below is looking the other way. The owners of the gardens had to have notices asking people not to walk through them. They will have much more to worry about soon: these gardens cannot last much longer, and some people may have to pay to heve their houses deolished before they fall into the sea, to prevent the sort of sight as above.

Below is at what should have been the other end of the Ulrome road. I get the impression that these works are being done by the caravan site owner, for obvious reasons, but I would not fancy staying here.

Gargoyles, Grimacers and Green Men

I've been interested in church architecture and sculpture for years. I also like the atmosphere and history embedded in what are often the oldest buildings in a settlement. I've visited churches all over Western Europe, and I've become particularly interested in the apparently pagan images which are found throughout. Probably the most famous is the 'Green Man', which is a modern term for a range of images which we (apparently) know very little about. I'm not a student of history and I've not had access to academic papers, and much popular writing about Green Men appears to be conjecture and imagination. We seem to know little about what the actual creators and observers of these images really thought about them. I'd like to look into this area in more depth, but I feel that this may become a 'retirement project' (if I ever get to retire)! So below you'll find just as much conjecture from me.

The following are some of the images which I saw in churches in Yorkshire and Lincolnshire on my recent cycle rides. They are described from North to South.

Filey, St. Oswald. This pair of 'mouth-pullers' were probably moved to this corner of the church at some point, as they are actually corbels which would originally have been where the roof and wall of the nave met. I used to visit this church a lot when I spent holidays at Filey as a child: we never noticed these faces! We were more interested in the gravestones.

Patrington, St. Patrick. An amazing church, with such a high spire that it was used by sailors to navigate safely round the hazards of the Humber. Here the gargoyle is being helped to eject water... Gargoyles ( it cames from Old French gargouille, or 'throat') had the specific job of shooting rainwater away from the church wall.

Barton-on Humber, St. Peter. As well as lovely carved capitals (which are between the tops of pillars and the arches above) this church has a rare Saxon tower and is a fascinating museum of archaeology.

Marshchapel, St. Mary. Not all church carvings are grotesque: particularly in the late middle ages realistic figures appear too. This woman appears to be taking her task of supporting the roof with equanimity.

Middle Rasen St. Peter. A rather fierce ram. I've seen several rams on older, Norman corbels: I don't think they have any relation to the 'lamb of God'.

Freiston, St. James. There's something not quite right about this monster - it's not actually holding anything up. Pevsner describes how the church, which was part of an abbey, was renovated in Victorian times, and the corbel stones were made redundant.

Boston, St. Botolph. A classic Green Man, with a typically ambiguous expression. It's just to the right of the main door, and was a shelf on which a statue of a saint would have stood. This location is often occupied by demons, as if the saint is standing on and crushing them.

Gosberton, St. Peter and St. Paul. This is one of the most terrifying carvings I have seen in an English church.

Walpole St. Peter. A huge and fascinating church with much carving. This one appears intriguingly oriental. Many people who are interested in Green Men see a link with oriental images such as the Kirti-Mukha. I wonder if here there is a connection with Chinese Lions?

More to follow.

Labels

When I was on teaching practice last year, I had a pot of plant labels for each of my Year 8 classes. Each label had a pupil's name on it, and the 'level' they were at. When I was doing the summing up at the end of the lesson - or the 'plenary' as it is known - I could pick pupils at random out of the pot and ask a question suitable to their level.

Now I am planting seeds hoping that I can have salads over the winter. I cleaned the permanent OHP ink off the plant labels with meths a few weeks ago. The names are still very faintly visible. Amy, who talked back at the slightest excuse, is now Perpetual Spinach. I remember well her slightly accusatory stare when I asked her for the umpteenth time to be quiet. Joe is now Chinese Cabbage. Far from it, with a level of 5.2 without even trying... I do, strangely, miss them.

Recipe: Sausage, Bean and Apple Casserole

I really love cooking! During my all-too-short Ryton stint I enjoyed finding/inventing recipes for the weird vegetables on the 'staff table'. During teacher training I unwound after a day at school by cooking dinner. So I've decided to share the occasional recipe which I feel has gone particularly well. These will be 'all my own work' unless I say otherwise.

This is a quick 'storecupboard' recipe. It fed two moderate eaters for two meals.


1 onion
1 tin chopped tomatoes
1 large cooking apple (e.g., Bramley)
1 pack veggie sausages - I like Cauldron ones more than Linda Mccartneys. (Piggy sausages would do just as well - about 1/2 pound)
1 tin Haricot beans
Dried or fresh thyme
Olive oil

Chop and gently fry the onion for a few minutes till transparent, and at the same time grill the sausages as per the packet instructions. Pop a few pinches of thyme in for a minute - apparently the hot oil helps to release the essential oils in the leaves. Add the tomatoes. Peel and chop the apple into chunks and put in with the onion and tomato. Cut the sausages into thick slices and add too. Cook for 5 or 10 minutes, and add the drained beans a few minutes before serving.

Where sea and sky and Lincolnshire meet...

My original aim of spending September cycling from Filey to Felixtowe had already been dashed (see below) partly by disorganisation, partly by having to return to Nottingham for a few days, and partly and most nicely because I kept finding too many interesting places and people. And this in one of the least-exulted of counties. Perhaps I should be keeping it to myself.

I headed back to the land of big fields and bigger skies, surrounding the biggest estuary: The Wash. (The title of this post is a paraphrase of a line from 'The Whitsun Weddings' by Philip Larkin, actually about Hull and north Lincolnshire). The idea was to continue where I left off in Boston, and wend my way through the coastal Fens, visiting nature reserves, and into Norfolk as far as Snettisham. Then back further inland, where there are many fine medieval churches. This meant that so I could at least say I'd done The Wash, leaving the rest of Norfolk and Suffolk and Essex for another trip, at an unspecified date.

So I caught a train to Spalding. Reason - this was where I wanted to finish off, so it'd save time at the end of the trip. I cycled to Boston, to stay overnight in a semi-neglected campsite with cats, rabbits and birds roaming freely. An early start next morning, as I'd been urged to re-visit Freiston Shore at this week's spring tide. I was at the reserve by 7am, and I wasn't the first. Just as well - three very experienced local birdwatchers kindly let me tag along with them and told me what was what. I did spot a Black-tailed Godwit all on my own though - learning!

One reason I was interested in this place was that it has a good example of 'managed realignment' where the sea had been allowed to reclaim land which had had a brief spell as arable fields. The full story is here .

Freiston Shore managed realignment: low tide

Freiston Shore managed realignment: Spring tide. You can see in the background the old sea wall with nicks in it where the sea comes in.


Although I knew what it'd look like, it was still a bit of a shock to see how much land the sea coverd at high tide. Back at Donna Nook, I'd heard local consternation about managed retreat plans, and the feeling that they were losing land to save Hull. I was struck by the way that rising sea levels were talked about, and the role of global warming: being on the climate change front line in England.

The Fens are an area of great contrast: you can feel you are miles from anywhere, with wildlife wheeling about your head, but just down the road vast amounts of veg are being packed into trailers for lorries to dispatch round the country. As well as the odour of cabbage, it was also obvious that the cabbage-pickers had started work before I got up for my birdwatching jaunt, and as I was settling down in a very pleasant campsite at Gedney, warm and full and ready to doze off listening to Radio 4 podcasts, the sounds of farm machinery was still present to help to lull me to sleep.

Greater industry was expected of the Fens: the two lighthouses below were built as a gateway in the River Nene. However this time the wildlife has apparently won out: instead of heralding the development of a new industrial hub at Sutton Bridge, the left-hand lighthouse was the home of the wildfowler then naturalist Sir Peter Scott for many years. It's now the start of the Sir Peter Scott Trail (nice article from The Torygraph).

Sutton Bridge does have a small but busy port, and some rather sinister industrial buildings, but it is an unavoidable pinch-point on a route through the Fens. Away from the noise of the A17 it was more pleasant, and had a cafe serving a fine cuppa and cake. These things matter: one good reason for cycling is the amount of food it allows one to eat, and if one is foiled in that, one is not only disappointed, but decreasingly able to cycle too!

Rather too many straight roads later, I got to King's Lynn, and to a campsite which should have been nice, but which was right next to an A road. After being woken at 5am (earplugs already in!) I changed my plans. No Snettisham, as that would mean another night here, and this trip wasn't meant to be an endurance test, it was a holiday, well, sort of. But a more leisurely ride through the inland Fens, and more time to look at the fine old churches there. And SURELY by turning round I'd have the wind behind me!

The powerful role of the church in the Fens is shown by the village place-names. I'd already been to Terrington St Clement, and over the next couple of days I also visited Wiggenhall St. Peter, Wiggenhall St. Mary the Virgin, and Wiggenhall St. Mary Magdalen, then Walpole St. Peter and Walpole St. Andrew. There were also the churches of Long Sutton, Whaplode, Weston, and Moulton. (For photos visit my Flickr site). That's if I've loaded them up yet!

My last day before I was due to return to Nottingham was supposed to be a half-day cycling, a wander round Spalding, and an early afternoon train home. But the weather had been improving daily, and now the sun shone, and the wind had dropped, and the cycling was blissful. I looked at the map, saw the tempting-sounding Croyland Abbey, and headed south for 10 miles.

It's a stunning sight, honey-coloured stone drinking in the afternoon sun, the fragments of what must once have been a wealthy abbey, but which started as a lonely place for the hermit Guthlac to live.

Crowland, the village created around the abbey, (not a typo!) also has a unique three-cornered bridge, and one of the priciest tea-shops I've seen in a long time. Fortunately I noticed that there was a fundraising 'do' at the Methodist Church, and had a nice cuppa and a delicious slice of carrot cake for a jolly reasonable amount, and got to meet some locals too.

By then it was mid afternoon, and I was still 10 miles from Spalding. Better get a move on. But the cycle ride on a lane next to the River Wellney was lovely, and it was such a nice day, that it was 5.15 by the time I got to the Railway station and looked at the timetable for the next train. The last train had gone at 4.45. Bugger! What now? The only trains running were to Grantham, where I could get home, but it'd cost lots extra. There weren't any campsites around to stay in. I could cycle to Sleaford, where I was supposed to change trains, but it was a nasty route of about 25 miles with unavoidable A roads. The answer was to cycle - to Boston! About 20 miles, I'd already done the route, and I knew that trains ran all evening from there. Just a shame I hadn't just got a return ticket to there in the first place! I'd already done about 40 miles that day, but the sense of urgency lent energy to my legs, and I sped along, the sun setting to my left.

Two hours later I was at Boston railway station drinking tea and eating up all my leftover emergency rations, with a train due in 20 minutes. Best of all, the guard was so impressed by my story that he let me off the extra fare between Boston and Sleaford. A real professional!

Filey to Felixtowe?

What better place to start a (possible) trip round the North Sea than the place where I first saw it. Filey is where I spent all my school holidays in the 70's - it has hardly changed since then and is none the worse for that. I had a look round the old haunts, and headed for a campsite in nearby Hunmanby. Alas! It appeared to be a members only site, so I went on to Grange Farm at Flamborough, at £3.50 the cheapest campsite I’ve encountered for quite a while. Only the first day, and already my carefully-hatched plans were unravelling (I love the mixed metaphors!)

Bike, paddling pool and Filey Brig in the background


The promised wet weather arrived, and this put me off exploring Flamborough Head, but instead headed south down the Holderness coast.

The coast near Skipsea

The weather certainly emphasised why the coast is washing into the sea so fast. I wanted to go to Spurn Head the following day, but no-one was in when I rang the only campsite near there. In increasing rain, and by now totally wet through, I headed towards a site I knew was open and affordable, at Barton-on-Humber. This involved a ride along parts of two very bumpy disused railway lines, and negotiating Hull. I lost the NCN route signs to the Humber Bridge, and ended up retreating from a very nasty fast A road having to push my bike the wrong way down a slip road. Then I found a cycle shop and the young chap there gave me a leaflet with the Hull cycle routes on - I could have kissed him!

It still seemed to be a long way to the bridge, and when I got there it looked very long, high, and narrow over a swirling coffee-coloured expanse of water, and through pelting rain. And I'd thought I was going for an easy option, the dry East coast! A memorable crossing, made more interesting by the waterfalls of water deposited on the cycle path, and me, from every passing lorry. So I ended up at Silver Birches Campsite very wet, put up a soggy tent, stuffed my shoes with newspaper and put my camping cooker on. Cup of tea and some pasta and all was well. (Lidl dried pasta in mushroom sauce - very good).

Humber Bridge from Far Ings Nature Reserve

Barton-on-Humber has several nature reserves, an arts centre, two historic churches and plenty of shops. I was kept busy and had plenty of opportunities to evade the stormy weather, and some interesting chats with people at the visitor centres. The rising tide is a popular topic of conversation. But I had 'done' the Holderness coast in one day, not the three I had intended! I kicked myself for not ringing round more of the campsites beforehand, but also started planning a little trip to catch up what I had missed - another time.

The following day I interacted more than necessary with Grimsby, but found an excellent cycle route out of Cleethorpes past sand dunes. It was Sunday, it was sunny, and lots of people were out enjoying themselves. I stayed at West End Farm a few miles from Louth for a couple of nights - I'd been to the site earlier in the summer, and been fascinated by the rather strange Lincolnshire marshes. This time I explored nature reserves at Donna Nook and around, which are very strange.

Donna Nook: the bombing range

Saw a Little Egret, a bird which we hardly used to see in this country, now they are quite frequent in this sort of area. Had a long chat with a woman walking her dog – turned out she used to be a public health officer in Nottingham and in her words "demolished St. Ann’s Well Road – not with a bulldozer but with a piece of paper".

The weather was going off again as I headed for Mablethorpe and another sea-edge cycle path. Bottom gears battling against the wind on the flat! The resort towns and caravan sites here are several metres below the sea - whose idea was it to build there? Ponds created when the sea wall was reinforced after the 1953 storm are now nature reserves. It was too windy along the coast, I headed inland to look at some interesting churches, and a long ride against the wind got me to Havenhouse Campsite near Skegness: another nice little site with a sheltered orchard for little tents.

Markby Church - note bicycle for scale

Next day I went to Gibraltar Point, which involved either cycling on, or on a narrow path next to, one of the A roads into Skeggy, but it was worth it. Even Skeggy had its uses - a cycle shop for tyre levers which don’t bend - and great views of the off-shore wind turbines. ‘Gib’ was great - I saw lots of interesting birds and some rather more accomplished birdwatchers told me what they were. But I recognised an avocet all on my own which I was very chuffed about. Was so into the birdwatching I didn't get to the cafe!!

I had to return to Nottingham for a few days, so the next day was the last day of this leg of the trip. It involved another assault of the headwind - even though I had 'turned the corner' into the Wash. Off into fen country and big fields and a general odour of cabbage. Best find of the day - Wainfleet has a caff! After some striking churches and a hunt for the sea, which was a long, long way out, I had to head for Boston 'stump' and find the station to return home - at least until part 2.

Boston Stump - note bicycle for scale!

All the campsites are on

http://www.ukcampsite.co.uk/ and I'd recommend them all.

The story so far...

Last year, after one job too many finished too many months too soon, I decided that it would be a sensible career choice to become a science teacher. Having realised the folly of this, I emerged blinking into the sunlight at the end of June with a PGCE but no job and no intention of ever entering a classroom as a teacher again. Live and learn - and I certainly learnt a lot last year, particularly that teenagers are human too and if I can't stand being shut up in a room all day with no windows, why should I expect them to? Common sense reminds me that I may change my mind, especially as financial need bites... and I was reckoned to be pretty OK at the job… but I am putting it off as long as possible. I value my sanity.

Anyway, as my final post on Covblog describes, I rushed off to Derbyshire to do lots of walking, and then off to Lincolnshire for a bit of cycling. And I'd promised myself, all that long long spring and early summer, that I'd go for a really long cycle tour. When would I get the chance again? But in August the campsites are full of families, and anyway, I got busy reintroducing myself to all the people I knew when I was last in Nottingham. Five years ago - and it was as if I had never left! Suddenly I was really busy helping the Wildlife Trust and the City Farm, getting involved with the Nottingham Organic Gardening Group allotment and Transition Sherwood. I spent a week in Yorkshire finding out what hard work it is running an organic veg box scheme, and spent a fair few days exploring the Nottinghamshire countryside.

September was pencilled in for the tour, but where? I'd hankered after a tour in France - the canal towpaths of Brittany, the banks of the Loire... but conscience dictated that I stayed in England in case any job opportunities came up. I actually planned two tours – one in the North of England and one down the East coast. As August progressed, it was the weather that was going to be the final arbiter. However, the idea for the East coast trip originated some years ago, when I came across the North Sea Cycle Route. This is the worlds longest continuous cycle route, taking in England, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, the Shetland Islands and Scotland. Some people do it in one hit, others take several years. Apart from wanting to return to countries I visited on my European trip in 2002, my interest in the North Sea coast is to do with climate change: many of these coastal areas are at Europe’s climate change front line. It’s even a case of ‘last chance to see’ for some places.

So, as the long-term forecast ‘gave out’ wet weather in the North, and slightly less wet weather in the East, I decided that no time was better than now to start a series of bike tours which could potentially occupy my holidays for the next several years – if I wanted. I planned routes, I tracked down the small, cheap campsites, I plotted the locations of wildlife reserves and old churches. My plan was 'Filey to Felixtowe', my version of 'Hull to Harwich', i.e., the Sustrans Route 1. I intended to stick closer to the East Coast than Route 1, and to visit lots of the excellent wildlife sites along the coast. I invested in my first bright yellow cycle jacket to make me feel like a real cyclist, and a cheapo green cag to make me feel like a proper birdwatcher. (Actually I thought the yellow one would scare the birds away!)

I’ll return to this trip over the next few posts, with more photos and less writing. It didn’t work out as planned – but was possibly more interesting for that!

On Me Bike

If you need any explanation re the multiple meanings of this phrase then you weren't around in England in the 1980s. Even if Norman Tebbit was misquoted, he'll always be associated with telling unemployed people to get on their bikes and look for work. I'm looking for work at the moment (the theme of this decade it seems) and I like spending time with my bike. So it seemed a suitable blog title. However, I'm not going to spend much time boring readers (if there are any) and depressing myself with tales of job applications and interviews, nor is it going to be just about cycling.

I decided to start a new blog after looking back at my old one: CovBlog http://coventryblog.blogspot.com/ I enjoyed looking at what I'd written and photographed so much I thought I'd start again. I'm not in Coventry any more (part of the reason I'm looking for work) and I thought 'NottBlog' sounded a bit confusing. Anyway, people don't call Nottingham 'Nott' the way that people call Coventry 'Cov'. 'Nottnm' is more like it.