Pony up…

…I was going to write some more about Brexit, straight from the horse’s mouth, as it were, based on our recent trip. However, I simply don’t have the energy or enthusiasm for it, mostly because I’ve been silly enough to keep following events (non-events?) since returning home. I cannot believe, at this late hour, politicians – remain or leave – are unable to pony up on this – and we’re already past one “not to be missed” deadline! So instead, I’ll write a bit about our Cornish adventures, and include a picture of a pony…

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“Brexit? Neigh…”

Whenever we visit Ma PlaidCamper down in Cornwall, we find some time to tramp the trails on the Cornish coastal path, and it is always a treat! Rain or shine – and we were lucky to have almost shine – this path is one to savour. We enjoyed a day that more than hinted at spring. Wildflowers were mere minutes from appearing (I’m betting some bloomed the next day!), rabbits were bounding and bouncing, birds were singing, one or two bumblebees buzzed and hummed in and out of the hedgerows, and Shetland ponies were happily grazing along the cliff tops. All this in the first few minutes! Spring! Boing!

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“There’s a cafe just past the beach behind the next headland, hidden in a cove. You can’t miss it!” It’s the tiny white blob. A good place to stop.

Often, the cliff tops are wind blasted, and that, combined with copious mud underfoot can make things challenging. This time out, a relatively lengthy dry spell just before our visit, and an almost windless day meant we had benign conditions. With the sun making an occasional appearance through the mist and haze, we found the walking very pleasant, long stretches along the tops punctuated by steep and short up and downs between coves. Fully loaded with snacks and a light lunch, and a brief-that-turned-long stop at a cafe for coffee, our day on the path was about as good as it can be.0B6961C7-576D-4E40-82D7-5425C33C094E

This isn’t a path to be rushed, and why would you with varied views to take in as you round headland after headland? The springy turf invites you to stop and sit, so we did, time after time. Our light lunch became a long lunch, and the timing was just right as the sun shone for a lengthy spell, burning off misty remnants and turning the grey waters blue.

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Lunch stop

We couldn’t spend the entire day on the path, as we had plans to meet up with friends and family at a local pub, and a pint or two of Tribute pale ale to test – it passed, with flying colours.

Parents with small dogs was a bit of a theme this trip. Blue lives with my dad, and Bertie lives with mum. Bertie is the most energetic dog in the world, and luckily for him, he is hilarious with it. He reminded me of an extra from a Wallace and Gromit movie…

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Bertie!

The noise and nonsense of Brexit aside, we thoroughly enjoyed our trip. Family, friends, lovely scenery, silly (not really) dogs, beer, and the hugely necessary British sense of humour (how else can a nation survive the Brexit debacle?) all added up to a great time.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

British stuff

A few years ago, back in Calgary, I taught a wonderful young man, MW, and he had a real talent for drawing funny cartoons. Before he was born, he and his mother suffered terrible abuse at the hands of his biological father, and as a result, MW’s brain ended up wired differently.11F3020D-222F-406B-9F5E-80F66078F30F

MW sees the humorous side of life, and he enjoyed some work we did reading “A Christmas Carol” and watching the movie version starring Jim Carrey. MW drew a cartoon strip retelling the story, and one frame he drew was of Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Past flying over the wintry British countryside. MW labeled this panel “British Stuff” and I always smile and think of MW when back in Blighty.

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“Hello? Hello? Operator, could you please connect me to a sensible politician? Hello?”

Last I heard, MW is still drawing funny cartoons, and still making his teachers and peers laugh when they read them. He’s in high school now, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if, one day, he has his cartoons published for a wider audience.

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We fort (spoken with a Sarf London accent) this Roman remnant was rather wonderful – a link to an early European past (no doubt, rabid Brexiters would ask “Well, what did the Romans ever do for us?” and complain about subjugation and taxes. And then not mention stone buildings, central heating, good roads, different food, new ideas, and short skirts for men. Yes, we’re British dammit, through and through. Not a mix of Vikings, Goths, Visigoths, Normans, Angles, Saxons, Jutes, Indians, Africans, Jamaicans and many other groups I can’t even remember. Oh stop it PlaidCamper. Brexit means Brexit. Hey ho…)

Anyway, all of the above serves to explain the title for this week, and the few random photographs I’ve chosen from our recent British trip. Away from the noise and nonsense of Brexit, we were able to be charmed by little glimpses of “British stuff” on our travels. (Goodness me, doesn’t that last photograph have a long and incoherent caption? It’s like I’m tired, tetchy, and jet lagged…)

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Our next vehicle? If only…

A brief post as I struggle with some of the worst jet lag I’ve ever experienced – making sense at work this week has been something of a challenge! Still, it’s great to travel and visit with friends and family, and it’s also great to return home and calm things down a little. I won’t describe the teary eyed reunion we had with Scout the other day, but I will say it was a joy to see her again. Obviously, I must have had grit in my eye.

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British institution

I’ll unpack my bags properly in the next day or two, and I’ll unpack some more of our trip on here in the next week or two. Yup, be warned, there will be a bit more British stuff to come, and perhaps it will be a bit more coherent…

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A drop or two of good British stuff

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Logging on and logging off

A very quick post this week, dashed out in between visits from family and friends, about a little place we like to sit and stare from when we need a short break.IMG_20180802_155702

Life is going along just fine out on the coast, a blend of warm and sunny days mixed with warm and foggy days, and, so far, just a hint of rain every now and then. We never need an excuse to head outside, but it is great to log off (I must spend less time reading online newspapers – isn’t it all fake anyway?), put down our books, avoid any household chores, and choose instead to get up and get going to a beach or trail.

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It’s not here

The pictures included this week were taken from a spot just off the Wild Pacific Trail. You know the place, where you have to push through a tangle of salal and other bushy undergrowth, and then scramble down some rocks to get onto a tiny pebble and shell beach. Yup, that place, but don’t tell anyone. Anyway, it doesn’t exist…

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Our last couple of visits there, the grey skies and grey seas were very soothing. In truth, I think on a sunny day we would find it almost too hot to sit out there on a log. Scout prefers it not too hot, and we are doing all we can for her by brushing out her shedding coat – so far, she has shed ten times her own body weight in fur this summer. (That probably isn’t true, but let’s embrace the current fashion for saying anything and insisting it is true because I said it and you didn’t – isn’t that how it works?) It is fun to watch her leap from log to log, her own version of logging on and off. Sensible dog.

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Logging on

Yikes, and I think I’ll leave it here, saying thank goodness for favourite quiet places just off the trail. Thanks for reading, I hope you have a wonderful weekend, and it’s one where you’ll find yourself in your own soothing spaces.

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Surf Ghosts

Sounds spooky, and Hallowe’en is weeks away. What’s going on?

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The tiny blob is a bear (sure looked bigger when we first saw it!)

We had plans to hike up a good stretch of Long Beach last week, starting from the Kwisitis Visitor Centre, and continuing until legs or snacks gave out. Unfortunately, a large black bear was wandering back and forth across a narrow section of beach, and Parks Canada were there to ensure the bear was left alone, and our walk was cut short. Instead, we opted to mooch about on Lismer and South Beach, and Scout attempted to dig her way to the southern hemisphere. Time well spent.

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The large blob is Scout, checking a bear won’t fall into the hole she is digging

Yes, yes, all quite lovely, but what about the surf ghosts? I can’t hear you cry.

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Warm, but not so sunny…

We returned to the same beach a couple of days later, and the weather was warm, but very foggy along the shore. Bear warning signs were in place, and we were a little reluctant to head out, because we wouldn’t be able to see the bear in the mist. When we stopped to think about it, mist, fog, rain or shine, we rarely spot bears because they’ve already seen/heard us and moved along. That said, we prefer a longer view and a bit of distance where possible.

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A hanging about place

Great. The ghost surfers?!

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Ghost surfers!

We decided to wait out the fog, believing it would lift as the morning wore on, and start our walk with a clearer view. We settled down on a log, broke into our snack supply, and saw a couple of surfers emerge onto the beach and head to the waves. They made an interesting sight through the veil of mist. Before coming to this part of the coast, if you’d said anything to me about surfing, I’d think of Hawaii and board shorts, and a beach bar serving drinks with an umbrella in. That, or my sad and exhausting attempts at surfing off the coast of the Isle of Wight (southern UK, frigid English Channel waters) many, many years ago. If there was a bar serving drinks with an umbrella in, I didn’t see it…fullsizeoutput_66d

Our ghost surfers were kitted out in wetsuits, sensibly enough, and took to the waters without hesitation, appearing to have a fine time in the surf. They played for nearly an hour, and when they finally came back out of the water, I hope they had something warming to drink, no umbrellas.DSCF7403

Eventually, the fog cleared enough for us to head up the beach, and we had a pleasant walk, spotting shore birds and no bear. After an hour, the next fog bank rolled in, and we retraced our steps back to the parking lot. As we approached the visitor centre, we saw  more ghost surfers emerging in the mist. I admire the surfers out here. They are a committed bunch, and clearly appear to enjoy their passion. So much so, they even come back as ghosts…

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Were they really there?

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Indignant Cove

Scout and I often end up at Indignant Cove, and often on a Monday evening. Mrs. PC is at her exercise class, keeping healthy and in shape, thinking about the future, all that stuff about using it now so you still have it later. I get a bit hot under the collar thinking about exercise, and tend to wander off with the dog to find a quiet place to sit and think about a healthy future. Meditation burns calories, yes?

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Be nice to stop here, rest a bit

A gentle – I mean a very brisk and pacy – walk along the Wild Pacific Trail, and we end up at a small shell, gravel and rocky beach overlooking the ocean. Scout gets to chew as many sticks and logs as she can – crunches? – and I clamber and stumble about a bit, huffing and puffing and getting quite exercised each time I slip or trip. It’s a full body workout…

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Crunch, chew, slip or trip

Most times we are sat there – I mean striding up and down the shore – we spy a bald eagle or two, see fishing boats out on the ocean, and wave “hi” to passers-by up on the trail, especially the joggers and runners. Sometimes the mosquitoes are out in force, so that’s quite a bit of arm stretching and balance, but if there’s a breeze, they are kept at bay.

One recent evening, the tide was getting high, and water was surging up the channel to the left of where we were sitting – just a quick breather. The whump and thump as the weight of the water crashed onto the rocks was loud, even though conditions were relatively calm. A huge thud, rumble and cracking sound reverberated over us when a log smashed onto the rocks. The ground seemed to shake, and that was from a single log on a pleasant evening. Imagine a fierce storm, now that would set your heart racing…

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Evening at the cove

Indignant Cove? A strange name, and you won’t find it on maps or charts. I call it that because if we continue on the trail without stopping, walking past the gaps in the logs and rocks where you can access the beach, Scout digs all four paws in and comes to a halt, looking indignant. Why aren’t we going down there? I’ve made a start on that log, and it needs finishing. Can a dog look indignant? Yes. A short, yet healthy and vigorous, game of tug of war ensues, and if Scout wins, we go to the beach. We usually go to the beach.

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Haha, we are at Indignant Cove. I knew we’d stop here.

I like the word cove when used to describe a person. It reminds me of the naval fiction by Patrick O’ Brian, set in the early nineteenth century, where you’d expect someone to be called an ill mannered cove if they weren’t of good character. I’m not suggesting Scout is ill mannered, far from it. But she can be an indignant cove if we don’t stop at Indignant Cove.

Well, I’m exhausted after all that, and will have to rest up until next time. Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Summer Golden

We took a short stroll down to the outer harbour then past the small campground overlooking the water. We needed to stretch our legs and shake off the disappointment of England missing out on a golden opportunity to make it to the World Cup final. Beaten in extra time by a determined and more skillful Croatia team, we could only commiserate and also celebrate the tournament success of an England team most thought wouldn’t get as far as they did. Maybe next time…fullsizeoutput_60f

Anyway, our little stroll found us ending up on the outside deck of the Eagle’s Nest pub, Mrs PC’s first visit up there, with a fine view across the water to Mount Ozzard. Often, the low mountains opposite Ucluelet are swathed in mist and fog reaching down to just above the first layer of trees. There are days where if you didn’t know, you’d swear there were no mountains. Not this past week, where the weather has been fine, and the evenings summer golden.fullsizeoutput_60b

Summer golden? That calls for a glass of Tofino Blonde ale, and we couldn’t ignore the call. A perfect match, unlike the game earlier. Mrs PC seemed slightly bemused by Scout knowing her way about the place, the way the bar staff seemed to know her, almost as if she’d been to the Eagle’s Nest many times before. That’s a mystery to me…

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“This is empty. Can we go to the Eagle’s Nest again? Oops, should I have said that? We’ve never been there before, they don’t know me…”

We sat and sipped, enjoying the beer and the view. A pair of bald eagles circled overhead, occasionally swooping down and disappearing behind Lyche Island, and we’d wait for them to reappear above the trees, their cries clear in the calm evening. A few folk were busy on fishing vessels below, finishing up the day, preparing for the next, and in the deeper channel, a larger boat or two chugged past slowly. Nearer the shore, colourful kayaks paddled by, and they were a pretty sight in the soft light. A good evening to be on the water.

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Tofino Blonde – a golden ale for a golden evening

A small glass of Okanagan Spring pale ale (not as good as the Tofino Blonde, but we had to see) and then back to the outer harbour to catch the last of the sun falling behind the trees up channel.fullsizeoutput_60d

A very pleasant stroll on a summer evening. Well done to Croatia, here’s hoping for an exciting final this coming Sunday, and because it was our home for a few years, Allez les Bleus!

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

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Mount Ozzard on the left, Lyche Island on the right

Mists and drizzle (and a bear or two)

We’ve heard from various sources that parts of North America and Europe are suffering some extreme heat. My brother returned home to the borders of sultry summer WV and Maryland earlier this week after a great visit with us. Well, we thought it was great, but I swear he was muttering something about Canadian cold weather and asking why he couldn’t have had mist or drizzle, but not mist and drizzle? Is there a distinction? He got to hug a mountie – no photos, I wouldn’t do that to him – and that must have thawed him out a little?

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Mist and drizzle? Or drizzle?

On our various trips out and about, he saw a fair number of black bears from the car. Just as well, because on the bear sightseeing tour we took out of Tofino, for a long stretch of the trip it appeared that bears were not going to make an appearance. My brother huddled inside the bright red Canada hoodie I gave him, looking the picture of happiness (again, not a photo I dared to take) and staring out at the blissfully cool (cold?) conditions we’d been blessed with. OK, it was throwing it down, and a bit chilly with the viewing windows open, but if you won’t wear the proffered toque (he still has hair to worry about) how can you stay warm?

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Where are the bears?

Eventually, bears were spotted and the rain eased enough to get a photograph or two. My brother shot a short video of a bear running along a log to cross a small channel that he’ll enjoy showing to friends and other family. I’ve no video, but here is that bear:DSCF7234

I love heading out on the bear spotting tours – not a patch on an adventure we had a couple of years back with Wayne at Tofino Photography, but always fun, rain or shine. The trees, the water, the mist, the mountains, the bears and eagles, are a delight every time, and a chance to soak up the special atmosphere and sense of place this corner of the PNW has.DSCF7174

Once my brother was safely perched at a bar counter after the bear trip, he was a happy boy. He returned the unused toque, and the rain heavy hoodie that had soaked up a fair bit of atmosphere – it was dripping with it – and asked why we were sitting in a place called Wolf in the Fog? “How would you know there was a wolf? Should be called Is there a Wolf in the Fog? It’s too bloody foggy to really know!”

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Too foggy to spot a wolf? No! Have to come back another day…

He’ll just have to come back for another visit, and we’ll look that much harder. The hoodie will have dried out by then…

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!