The change of plan

“T’ra”, a term used interchangeably by some. It can mean either hello, thanks, excuse me or goodbye. The change of plan came on Saturday and after deciding I wouldn’t be spending a third night in the general environs of Chorley, I headed slightly further north to Yorkshire. Found myself a gorgeous B&B in Carleton and spent the day cruising around the Dales getting further sun burnt in an amusing pattern.

The above is a straight out of the camera shot from my adventures today, while taking this shot my internal monologue was in overdrive. “See that house down there, 12 of us lived in one room and had nowt to eat all day except when father came back from t’mines with half a loaf of mouldy bread.” Then another strongly accented gentleman pipes in with “Half a loaf? Only 12 of you? You had it easy. There was 18,000 of us all huddled in one corner, only heat we had was from a gone out candle, father would thrash us with his belt when he got home from the mill and all we’d have to eat for the entire week was half a bag of damp coal.” No idea what I’m on about? You need to click on this then lad.

Making my way back south tomorrow, down to somewhere on the outskirts of the Peak District. That’s back to the original plan. I’ve got 150km of B road and off road routes in the sat nav, ready to be followed with less than pin-point precision. My usual method of navigating while on the bike normally ends up with “Ah, that feels like it’s the right direction”. Worked well so far anyway.

Stone Wall

Stone Wall
Taken for my sofobomo project, this is in The Burren in Co. Clare. During our weekend on the west coast, I spent a bit of time searching for the right wall, with the right patch of grass beneath it and the right patch of clouds behind it. I’m pretty happy with how this one turned out.

Dart to the Sea

Dart to the Sea
Getting the dart down to the seaside, a summertime institution. It’s a little colder and a little greyer now at this seaside at least, but there are still people on the trains as proved by this discarded ticket. The 5D is off to hospital in the UK. I only had it a couple of months when I dropped it during a walk around a forest early last year. Since then, the battery grip had become looser up to the point where it was causing problems. Maybe getting it fixed (and finally being able to take that wedge of paper out from the back of it) will convince me that no, I really don’t need to buy a 5D Mark II.

Pier Steps

Pier Steps
Steps on the pier in Bray, Co. Wicklow. It’s easily been about 4/5 years since I was last in Bray and this time only decided to go there after a quite lost drive around Dalkey and Killiney. It was bloody cold and bloody windy, but I had to get the beach fix I’ve been after for quite a while. The coldness of the wind was soon forgotten after a nice hot chocolate from the happy pear in Greystones though!

Fresh Cobbles

Fresh Cobbles
There were a few of what I can only call ‘craftsmen’ working in Edinburgh Castle when we visited. Some of them were renewing the pathways and public areas in the grounds of the castle. In this case, fresh cobbles were being laid. It was a pleasure to watch the skilled workers laying the stone in uniform patterns, filling in the cracks with cement and polishing the finished areas. It was almost enough to induce a trance. Really could have stayed there watching the work all day.

Grave Rambling

Grave Rambling
Another of my frequent trips to rural graveyards. This one, just outside Midleton on the road to Castlemartyr in east Cork is tucked away at the side of the road next to an infamous biker pub. It’s a small graveyard with a mix of old and new plots. Photogenic old stones leaning over and loads of decorative iron crosses dotted about the stone wall lined cemetery. Is my ever growing tendency to photograph graves a bit too much on the morbid side? Maybe.. I’ll know I need an intervention when I’m spotted skulking around a gravestone in the pouring rain.