2015: a life-changing year

I started 2015 in England, finished it in Wales, and in between there were New Zealand, the United States and Nicaragua – an interesting year, to say the least, and a life-changing one for me!

My lovely friend Sarah was kind enough to let me board with her during the six months I spent in Cheshire and we enjoyed some lovely days out together. This was one of them: a long walk beside the River Weaver to Dutton Locks, followed by lunch at a riverside pub. (You can see more photos here.)

My favourite thing about living in Wincham, in Cheshire, was the range of places I could easily walk to and I quickly developed some favourite circular routes that took me around lakes and alongside a canal, across fields and over streams, through woodlands and along a lime avenue. This long lime avenue was one of my favourite places, for the trees, for the daffodils in the springtime, for the way its character changed with the seasons. (Great Budworth’s lime avenue features in two blogs, this one about lime avenues and this photo blog showing the changing seasons.)

Once I had made the big decision to relocate to Britain, I headed back to New Zealand to sell my apartment,  pack up all my worldly possessions, and say goodbye to my fabulous friends and favourite places. One of the best things about my apartment in Auckland city was the view and I will never forget these amazing sunrises. (More of these stunning scenes here.)  

This is the quintessential Auckland to me, with the easily recognisable harbour bridge in the background, just a few of the huge wealth of boats lined up at Westhaven Marina, bright blue skies and a cabbage tree (Cordyline australis), albeit a cultivar, in the foreground. A walk around the harbour side and coastal beaches is always good value. (Here’s a walk I always enjoyed.)  

And so it was farewell Auckland, hello Wisconsin, for a far-too-short week-long visit with my wonderful friend Trudey and her equally wonderful husband Roy. And what an incredible week it was, with road trips across the state to visit family, to Washington Island with a group of Trudey’s lovely women friends, and a fun day out at the Bristol Renaissance Fair, plus many delightful hours spent watching these juvenile Bald Eagles. As I’m a keen birder, these were very special times for me.

Next stop, a three-day visit to Chicago, a city I’ve always wanted to visit. It was superb. I cruised on the river, walked miles, caught up with fellow photographer and internet friend Lauri … and so much more. I loved this amazing city. I must go back!

From Chicago to Granada, in Nicaragua, for a week of photography, in workshops organised by the great team at The Giving Lens, helping to mentor these incredibly talented young adults from Empowerment International, a charitable organisation that helps the impoverished children of Nicaragua achieve a better future for themselves. It was an unforgettable week of making new friends; enjoying beautiful scenery and amazing experiences; of learning and giving back; of laughter and smiles and tears. (You can see a selection of my photographs here.)   

When I arrived in Britain, I stopped over briefly in London – always a treat and always so much to see and explore. Though it was unplanned, this time I spent hours walking in London’s wonderful and enormous inner-city parks.

Cardiff is my new home, at least for now. It's a beautiful city, close to the sea, not far from the mountains in the Brecon Beacons National Park, and with amazing parks; it has a castle and is chock-a-block full of history; it has all the conveniences of big-city living yet has the friendliness of a small town. The photo shows Roath Park lake, just ten minutes’ walk from where I’m living.

In September I had a delightful visit back with Sarah in Cheshire, partly to catch up and partly to collect a suitcase full of winter woollies I had left with her. We had a couple of great days out, to the mighty Beeston Castle with its panoramic countryside views, and a day at the seaside at Formby Sands and Southport.

Back in Cardiff, I enjoyed the halcyon days of a long Indian summer and then the incredible beauty of autumn, with daily walks to enjoy the ever-changing colours of the beautiful British trees, dressed in their autumn finery.    

Discovering the good places to birdwatch in and around Cardiff has been great fun. The huge variety of birds here is a constant delight, and I seem to see something new every week, but it’s the charming little robin that is my particular favourite. That flash of red breast on a grey wintery day, its pretty little song, and its friendliness are a constant source of joy.

Cheshire: pubs and their signs 7

Considering this is my seventh blog on pubs and their signs in Cheshire, you could be forgiven for thinking I drink rather a lot, maybe even attend regular meetings of AA. But, no! My fascination is with the pubs’ signs and their histories, not with the alcohol served within, though I do admit to having downed a half of cider at one of these taverns and enjoyed a rather scrumptious meal at another. So, let’s begin …

The Badger, Church Minshull

I just happened to be driving through Church Minshull one day with a friend when I screeched ‘Pub sign’ and she slammed on the brakes – I have her well trained! After a complete renovation in 2011, The Badger Inn is looking very sleek and proud of its long history. Their website explains:  

The Badger Inn was built of brick at the end of the 18th century, probably 1770 and was first called The Brook Arms, after the Lords of the Manor, who had just purchased the estate. There was almost certainly an Inn on the site previously, which makes The Badger one of the first buildings in the village to be rebuilt by the Brooke dynasty. The Brooke family crest was of a brock, better known as a badger, hence the change of name to that of the present day. It was an old coaching Inn and the two storey part of the building was a coach house before it became a garage with a single petrol pump. This was later converted into a restaurant. Bare knuckle fighting was a regular sport here. In 1916, Mr Tite, the landlord, who hopefully did not take his name too seriously, died and moved next door to St. Bartholomew's Church, which he had always actively supported. The Inn was pebble dashed in 1934 and is listed as 'of architectural merit'.

Cock o’ Budworth, Great Budworth

Though the pub’s website says it’s a former 18th century coaching inn, the Cock o’ Budworth is, in fact, a century older. The Historic England website says it was originally a farmhouse and barn, dating from mid 17th and early 18th centuries, and this earlier construction date is confirmed by the pub’s inclusion in a work of rhymed Latin and doggerel English verse called Drunken Barnaby’s Four Journeys to the North of England, written by poet Richard Braithwaite and published in 1638. 

Here’s what ‘Drunken Barnaby’ has to say about the Cock:

Thence to th’ Cock at Budworth, where I

Drank strong ale as brown as a berry:

Till at last with deep healths felled,

To my bed I was compelled:

I for state was bravely sorted,

By two porters well supported.

Hopefully patrons in the 21st century don’t end up quite so inebriated!

The George and the Dragon, Great Budworth

Just along the road and up the hill from the Cock is this perfect example of the English village pub. The George and the Dragon sits at the heart of Great Budworth, directly opposite the beautiful Church of St Mary’s and All Saints and nestled amongst the traditional heritage-listed cottages of this picture-postcard village.

Parts of the pub date back to 1722, as witnessed by the original stone bar and its inscription 'NIL NIMIUM CUPITO', ‘I desire nothing to excess’. In 1875, local lord Egerton-Warburton commissioned architect John Douglas to restore and update the simple three-bay Georgian inn – the architect’s drawing is shown above left. Douglas is responsible for the addition of the mullioned windows, the tall chimneys and the steep pyramidal turret. The pub sign is a beauty! According to Historic England, the cut-out pictorial sign was made in Nuremberg and the long wrought-iron bracket from which it hangs was made by the Arley estate blacksmith in the 1880s.

The Leigh Arms is the white building behind the bridge

The Leigh Arms, Acton Bridge 

I had been for a lovely long walk alongside the river Weaver the day I visited the Leigh Arms, and was feeling rather peckish. Unfortunately, the restaurant was fully booked – it’s obviously a popular place with the locals. The Leigh Arms sits conveniently between the River Weaver and the Trent and Mersey Canal so, in the summer months, it’s also popular with boaties and with walkers who enjoy the trails beside both waterways.

Dating from the 16th century and formerly called The Bridge Inn because it sat adjacent to the old stone bridge that crossed the river at this point, the Leigh Arms was also a steam packet inn, serving patrons who sailed the route from Northwich to Liverpool in the early 1800s. Though many of the original features have now disappeared, the pub does still have some wonderful stained glass, including this panel protraying Fat Thomas Forshaw promoting Threlfalls’ and another jovial character advertising Silver Buckle Ale.

The Riverside Inn, Acton Bridge

On the day of my Weaver walk, when we couldn’t get a meal at the Leigh Arms, my friend and I drove a short distance across the river to this place, The Riverside Inn, a Marston’s public house. It sits in a picturesque position right next to the river so is another popular place for canal boaters during the summer months, and the food was certainly very tasty.

I’ve since discovered that The Weaver Refining Company, which used to make glue and gelatine by rendering down the carcasses of cattle, had its factory not far from this place and the factory’s office block was on the site of the Riverside Inn. Thank goodness that factory’s long gone – the smell would be enough to put you off your dinner, let alone a nice pint of ale.

Cheshire: The changing seasons

‘Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.’ Poet Stanley Horowitz wrote that 18-word poem more than 30 years ago and, since it was published in the November 1983 Reader’s Digest, his words have apparently been quoted more than 1,630,001 times on websites around the world (and that count was back in November 2011). Well, Mr Horowitz, I’m adding one more website to your list because I truly appreciate the wisdom of those 18 words.

One of the things I noticed most during my recent return to Cheshire was the late summer lushness everywhere I walked. And the differences, when I compared what I was photographing in early September 2015 with the images I had taken during my previous visit, the six months from late autumn November 2014 to early spring in April 2015, were quite simply phenomenal.

The moat around Holford Hall, in winter, spring and summer

Now, some of you might think, ‘So what? It’s the seasons. It happens every year.’ Well, let me tell you that, when you come from a more temperate climate like that in Auckland, New Zealand, where the seasonal changes are much less noticeable, the variations in the seasons in Britain are nothing short of sensational.

Those of you who live in harsh climates, where the seasonal changes are very pronounced, probably take all this for granted. Well, you shouldn’t! You really need to open your eyes and appreciate the beauty that each passing season brings. Admire the etching of a single winter-bare tree in a snow-touched landscape. Cherish the miraculous watercolour of wildflowers emerging in springtime. Applaud summer’s brash and brazen oils painted in bold strokes upon the earth. And marvel at the miraculous mosaic of autumn trees.

As Spanish philosopher, novelist and poet George Santayana famously wrote, ‘To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.’

I hope my photos give a taste of what I’m talking about …

Autumn, winter and summer in a cultivated woodland near Pickmere

Spectacular autmn colours, winter (with partly frozen lake) and summer at Tatton Park, Knutsford

Winter, spring growth, then summer lushness on a track leading up to a railway bridge near Holford Hall

My favourite: winter snows, spring daffodils, then summer leafiness at the lime avenue at Great Budworth

Cheshire: the mighty Beeston Castle

I love castles!

Maybe it’s because these are something New Zealand doesn’t have a lot of; maybe it’s a lingering fascination from childhood stories of chivalrous knights and distressed damsels; or maybe it’s the intriguing historical tales associated with them. Whatever the reason, I will never turn down a day out exploring a castle and 13th-century Beeston Castle certainly did not disappoint.

Though now mostly in ruins, its stunning location atop a steep rocky crag sets Beeston apart from many similar fortifications. It boasts three levels for exploration: a Victorian wall and ticket office, totally in keeping with the style of the older ruins; an outer curtain wall and guardhouse half way up the hill; and the crowing glory, the inner curtain wall, gatehouse and ruins that sit on top of this mountainous outcrop.

Looking up to the outer gatehouse

The outer wall and gatehouse

The outer wall and  a taste of the views to come at the top

The kid in me led me to check out every narrow arrow slit and tiny window slot in the crumbling walls.

Looking up to the inner wall and gatehouse

The bridge to the inner gatehouse

Even the modern bridge that spans the vertigo-inducing rock-cut ditch to the inner gatehouse is a cracker. Its steep arching design requires a final effort of leg muscle before the reward of equally breath-taking vistas, and it’s the perfect prop for photogenic images.

Surprisingly, there's a 100-foot-deep well on the top of the hill. Apparently, it’s the legendary hiding place for King Richard II’s lost treasures.

For the most part, Cheshire is a county of plains and low rolling hills so, for me, one of the very best things about Beeston Castle was the spectacular panoramic views from the inner bailey. On a good day – and we had a beautifully clear day – you can catch a glimpse of Chester and Liverpool, 10 and 22 miles away respectively, and you can also see the Welsh Mountains, which are 30 miles distant in a north-westerly direction, and the Pennines, which are the same distance to the south west. If you dare, you can also check the view straight down – 500 feet straight down, that is!

When you’ve seen enough of the green and pleasant Cheshire countryside, you can head half way down the hill and, just outside the outer gatehouse, take a left to connect with the woodland trail that meanders around the entire site. Its leafy shade was welcome on a warm day and at a couple of spots you can catch glimpses of the castle towering high above, though mostly the tall trees obscure the crag.

The end of the woodland walk brings you to a surprise feature, a series of 18th-century man-made caves (inside picture here) that may once have housed stables but have now been walled up to protect visitors from themselves and to protect the colony of bats living within.

And, at the very end of your tour of mighty Beeston, don’t forget to check out the shop where English Heritage has a selection of gifts and souvenirs for sale, where there’s an exhibition highlighting aspects of the castle’s past, and a café for hot and cold snacks, particularly a well-deserved and very yummy locally made Cheshire ice cream!

Beeston Castle was superb on a bright summer’s day but I’d also like to see it on a dramatic, snow-touched winter’s day. Beeston, I’ll definitely be back!