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!

Eskdale exertions

Exhausted after our extreme Eskdale exertions? Yup, it wasn’t easy going up hill and over dale in somewhat wet conditions, but we enjoyed every step, every minute of our Lakeland experience. Even the soggy socks after getting sucked into a deep bog…

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Up and over

A brief post this week, written in haste and hopeful that a pub internet connection will see this one get out. Still staying in pubs? You bet, and we’ve enjoyed every minute and every pint in hospitable hostelries. It’s going to be hard to tear ourselves away, but for the good of our waistlines, we will soon be heading back to Canada.

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Never rains here…

I’m letting the photographs tell the story this week, and I hope some notion of the very best hillwalking we’ve enjoyed comes through. Unless it is obviously a stream, most of the water in these pictures is actually flowing along the trail. We splish-splashed across, into, through and over, and it was all the same – completely exhilarating!4DE0D5D4-9B43-4187-B2D1-1610205C0461.jpeg

We were very fortunate on our two hiking days up there, getting a short sharp rain shower in the first hour of each morning, and then it remained dry. Always threatening another downpour, this only added to the dramatic landscape, and made us feel very content when we made it back down (mostly) dry.

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Lunch stop

We stayed at The Woolpack Inn, and if you’re ever in the area, I highly recommend this pub. Hearty breakfasts set you up, and good food and great beer do just the job when you return. From the front door, there are any number of trails to take, ranging from easy strolls to full on scree-scrambling and routes more akin to climbing than hiking.

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Splendid stout

What a wonderful place! Might stay here next time:A590A11B-1855-4622-A2B8-D46ABCC885C6Thanks for reading, and have a great weekend!

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Sea legs? Maybe…

Yes, maybe. I can’t claim to be much of a sailor. In fact, any vessel over the size of a kayak or canoe is way beyond my abilities, unless I’m driving onto a ferry – you might have read before about how I like to park at the front of an open car deck and pretend to be the captain. No? Oh. Let’s pretend I didn’t say that…

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Nahmint 5

Last weekend I got to spend quite some time on the water, in the sturdy Nahmint 5, and in a police launch. These were the two vessels used to transport excited youth, elders, mentors, and a slightly nervous PlaidCamper out to remote tribal lands, a camping spot that felt far from the modern world, and all the better for that.

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Our departure point – hope it clears…

The day had dawned with quite a bit of cloud cover and a real chill in the air. Our destination is reputed to be one of the rainiest places in Canada, and it appeared as though we’d be experiencing some of that soon. Fortunately, the cloud and mist burned off by midday, and as we pulled away from Ucluelet and headed towards the Broken Islands, the day warmed up and everything was a glorious blue, punctuated by island jewels of green and grey, with the distant mountains of the main island reaching up above cloud cloaked shoulders.

What a ride, with smooth, smooth water all about. My nerves over being in a small craft on open water were soon as calm as the  almost mirror flat surface we moved across.

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Fuel

Honestly, I’d not been too sure about the boat ride, having felt rather green about the gills in a heavy swell a couple of years back, but last week was fine. Sea legs? My sea legs were behaving, and we enjoyed a magnificent hour or more, fuelled by strong coffee, bright sunshine, and excited chatter.

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Smooth

I’ll write about the days spent camping, and some of the adventures we experienced over a few posts in the coming weeks, but thought I’d start with this, the short voyage to reach our destination. And, because I’m a little boy, I couldn’t resist including the police launch used for the trip back. What fun it was, getting my non-existent locks wind-tossed and wet in the sea spray thrown up by a fast-moving boat – far better than me fast-moving to the side and throwing up…

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Can I go in this one? Can I? Can I? Please?!

I’ve never been in the back of a police car (being a law-abiding sort) but now I can say I’ve been hauled into the back of a police launch (my initial clamber in wasn’t so elegant…)

I’ll leave it there, happily pretending to be an almost salty sea dog, and continue the tale another time.

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The Nahmint in one of the rainiest places in Canada – we were so fortunate to be completely dry our entire trip

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!

Small town daze

Not quite right, should be small town days.

We’ve been enjoying our time in Ucluelet, and were excited to be here for Ukee Days, a celebration of community in this little corner of the west coast. The weekend kicked off properly with a parade, and excitement was in the air. Especially from the young children who had experienced a parade here before. They knew each parade participant would be handing out candy to the young ones lining the route.

It was a noisy and colourful affair, and likely the only time we’ll see a muscle car behind a police vehicle get away with burning rubber on main street…IMG_20180728_105335

Parks Canada, Inland Search and Rescue, local mum and toddler groups, the Wild Pacific Trail Society, Ucluelet Aquarium, various local stores, some fire trucks, police ATVs, an ambulance and other participants made a fine spectacle.IMG_20180728_104431

We’d planned to meet friends from Canmore arriving to camp nearby for the week at the evening show. Unfortunately, they missed a ferry and ended up getting to their campsite just as it was dark. They were rather tired from waiting three hours for the next boat, a two hour crossing with a seasick dog, and then a longish drive across island with a puking dog on the latter winding stages, and two teenage boys getting greener each time Fido threw up. They missed the evening music and beer.

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Tuff session

It was a good line up, particularly the headline set by Band of Rascals – guitars, drums, a bass, and a lead singer giving it all, with the volume turned up to 11. As it should be. When the light faded, and the fog rolled in, the proceedings were perfumed – heavily – by a sizeable chunk of the audience figuring they’d get away with breaking the no smoking policy under cover of darkness. Weed was in the air. Certainly added something to the atmosphere, a little extra haze and daze. We were happy enough with the Tofino Session ale from the beer garden. Quite enjoyed being carded too – I think I look as though I might still be in high school…

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Turned up to 11

We did catch up with our friends in the following days, and they slowly began to unwind and relax into Ukee time. They surfed a bit, hiked a bit, ate good food and drank good beer a bit, and loved having a beach bonfire each night right in front of their campsite.IMG_20180801_185630

They weren’t quite as excited about the bear that had gotten into a nearby tent early one morning (to scavenge for candy a child had left in a sleeping bag) coming back when they were out and tearing a hole in the side of their tent. Sadly, the bear may have to be put down. Doesn’t seem remotely fair to the bear when it is only trying to be a bear…

It takes time to find the time to wind down and follow island or small town pace of life. Once you do, the trick is to maintain it, try to hang on to it even if you have to move on. Small isn’t dull, and slowing down doesn’t hurt – put yourself in a small town daze!

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Ukee evening summer haze

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!