Blog Archives: Travel by Bus

Lowestoft & Hopton – as far east as you can get

Between our May and June short breaks, as far south (Isle of Wight) and as far west (Haverfordwest) as possible, respectively, we had a free week, and so an opportunity for another cheeky little break – just two nights, with Eleanor and her mum. A holiday camp in half-term might not sound like everyone’s idea of fun, but the weather was lovely and the Hopton  Beach holiday camp, between Lowestoft and Great Yarmouth a lot greener than one’s prejudice might suggest.

The train to Lowestoft was a delight, a landscape never before experienced by us in that mode of travel. And as soon as we disembarked, our experience was transformed by the sound of Kittiwakes, a bird call that just speaks to me of my childhood around Bridlington.

Kittiwakes breeding everywhere, on the piers, on the seafront buildings, and even a little way inland on a church. I had no idea they had colonised like this since my last visit. Seems that, while birds have nested on the harbour since the late 1950s, the move into the town, perhaps triggered by Fox predation, and subsequent rapid population growth to around a thousand pairs has happened over the past decade. And this is important: over the time that Kittiwakes have colonised Lowestoft, the UK population has fallen by some 40% for a variety of reasons, probably mainly linked to the effect of climate change/sea temperature rises on their food.

While Kittiwakes feed only at sea, and won’t attack ice creams, bags of chips, small dogs or babies as urban nesting Herring and Lesser Black-backed Gulls are variously accused of, they do of course make deposits below their nests and so are not universally welcomed. But it was  pleasure not to see a town bristling with anti-bird spikes or festooned in potentially lethal netting, testament no doubt to the work of the local Kittiwake project that not only helps clear away mess from the streets but also provides advice on how to love and live alongside these gentle bundles of feathers that are the very spirit of the the wild sea.

There are other mitigations, including the provision of nesting hotels, both in the town and out at sea. Seems however that the success of the offshore ones is somewhat limited so far.

And in another example of apparent tolerance of nature that others revile or fear, there was much evidence along parts of the prom of defoliation of street trees (Sorbus) by Brown-tail Moths. And there were caterpillars everywhere, on trunks, seats and benches, but not a single sign saying ‘Danger’ or ‘Keep Away’. The sign of an enlightened populus that knows its place within nature? Or a council that is so cash-strapped it hasn’t the capacity? I hope it is the former.

Other life on the seafront included a Harbour Seal in the harbour mouth; Waxy Pine Aphids and a Philodromus spider on ornamental pines; edgelands in bloom with Eastern Rocket, so typical of ports, and Jersey Cudweed, now a constant feature of block-paving in East Anglia; grass growing on the beach, seemingly a trigger for ecocide in some coastal areas; and of course urban larger gulls.

And quite apart from the natural, there is always something reassuringly familiar about ‘British Seaside Architecture’… from working portscapes to ornamental flower beds:

So after a very entertaining couple of hours it was on the bus north, eventually to Hopton-on-sea, over the border into Norfolk. The first thing you see is the ruined church, which of course we couldn’t resist, along with the Turnstone pub (ditto!).

Near there, a strange creature running across a pavement. At first glance a mealybug (a sapsucker of ornamental plants), this actually seems to be a Mealybug Destroyer, larva of an Australian ladybird used in this country, especially in glasshouses, as a biological control agent.

And then, heading towards the sea, the holiday camp. Large, busy, all one would expect at half term, but set in rather pleasant surroundings.

Right next to to our van a pond with Heron and occasional other visitors. And here and around other onsite pond, here were damselflies and other insects, a flowering Southern Marsh Orchid and other marshland plants.

Other insects were enjoying basking on the hedges and bushes, including most impressively several Red-headed Cardinal beetles and a Golden-bloomed Longhorn…

… along with a good number of various spiders.

An afternoon on the beach was delightful, from soft cliff slopes covered in Tree Lupins and clifftop turf lit up by the occasional Cinnabar moth….

On one of the the most erosive stretches of the British coast, there are extensive sea defences aimed at reducing erosion of the sandy cliffs, and inadvertently providing habitat for Limpets and brown seaweeds that simply could not otherwise exist on this soft interface between land and sea.

And as so often, the delight was in the details, from the rusting metal among splintering timbers, right down to the Sandhopper Talitrus saltator busying and burying itself in the sandy beach itself…

 

The journey home was via Norwich. Again, the Lowestoft to Norwich line was not known to us previously, but lovely: across Halvergate marshes, up the Yare valley with sightings of Marsh Harrier, Brown Hares. Roe and Chinese Water Deers. A fitting finale to an unexpectedly lovely break.

And of course here is the chance to showcase just a few of Eleanor’s photos!

Exploring the Lee Valley

We don’t have to go far to have fun on our short breaks by public transport. The western boundary of Essex is the River Lea, and just across the river and canal is Enfield, Middlesex as was. The whole valley is a complex of waterways and greenspace, much of it under the wing of the Lee Valley Regional Park Authority.

Our two-night stay at Enfield Premier Inn saw us arriving in middle of the hottest day of the year (so far), a ferocious heat that drove us first into the Greyhound pub for refreshment. A drink, but no atmosphere or food, a pub that sadly makes nothing of its prime location next to the canal, the River Lee Navigation.

So we moved swiftly on, walking the towpath but not really paying much attention in the heat, apart from seeing and smelling the recent grassland wildfires. And the sound of screaming Swifts above, always a good sign…

After a couple of hours respite in the hotel and restaurant, it had cooled down sufficiently to make the idea of a towpath walk attractive. Banded Demoiselles, like fluttering fairies, were everywhere, as the cooling air was filled with birdsong – Whitethroats, Chiffchaffs and Song Thrushes especially – and a Red Kite flew over and into a copse. It was hard to believe we were inside the M25…

Hogweed and Wild Carrot umbels attracted numerous hoverflies and other insects, Russian Comfrey provided for the bees, and indeed everything seemed to be hosting insect life…

The impression of tranquil countryside continued to grow as dusk started to fall, with the temperature still up at 26 degrees. We were at Enfield Lock, as with all such spots a place of timeless delight. Many more Demoiselles, with fast-flying Emperors and a Southern Migrant Hawker dragonfly providing the entertainment, along with some impressive Greek Dock plants with exquisitely sculpted seeds and Himalayan Balsam flowers, a beacon for bumblebees.

After a night of rain, the morning air smelled of a grateful Earth. We headed to Walthamstow Wetlands, a flagship London Wildlife Trust reserve based around Thames Water reservoirs. ‘Greenwashing’ comes to mind given the reputation of the water company, but the repurposed buildings are impressive: the Engine House café, which provided excellent breakfast, and the Coppermill Tower with extensive views over the reserve and beyond.

As to the reserve, well there was wildlife – Common Terns, Great-crested Grebes, breeding Cormorants, Mute Swans with ‘Polish’ cygnets, Vervain, Blue-tailed Damselflies etc – and we learned from a friendly volunteer that the Barnacle Geese that tried to mug us are probably the only ones breeding in London. But the margins felt too manicured and with too much focus on fishing. And the weather was dull and rainy, which might have coloured our opinion!

For us, the Paddock, a community nature park just across the road, was much more authentic, the sort of brownfield bonanza that London does best. A rich, multicultural mix of plants from all corners of the world, managed to a point but not tamed, retaining the joys of randomness. You never know what to expect around the next corner…

In fact we liked it so much that we returned later in the day when the sun came out, and found it filled with insects:

Packing in more experiences, we headed out of the valley through Springfield Park, with interesting grassland, a family of Mistle Thrushes and old trees, including Walnuts with mite galls, and London Plane with lepidopteran leaf-miners. Who says non-natives have no value? And another good café!

Into Stoke Newington, Abney Park Cemetery provided welcome shade now the sun was out. One of the famous garden cemeteries, even the stone is now seeming to crumble to dust as the urban jungle takes over.

Meadow Cranesbill and Enchanters’-nightshade lent their colour to the ride-sides, and the large Burdocks were covered in Terellia tussilaginis picture-winged flies, including females laying the foundations of the next generation.

The Three Crowns, just off the High Street, had some elegant styling, but our refreshment stop of choice was the Coach & Horses, with a friendly welcome, good beer, tales of the Krays and a recently unearthed wooden wall featuring drinks advertising posters dating back to the 1880s!

Then a bus ride took us back to Tottenham Hale, and to the Ferryboat Inn for an excellent meal, overlooking the Coppermill Stream, with nest-building Coots, tree-clambering Moorhens on the hunt for ripe brambles and egg-laying Emperor Dragonflies among the Yellow Water-lilies.

 

And while we were there in the evening sun, it seemed like a great opportunity to explore this developing part of town, around Tottenham Lock:

Our final day saw us heading north along the canal, upvalley and under the M25. Incensed by the towpath litter, Jude had gathered a bag full of plastic before we reached Waltham Abbey. Surely the houseboaters wouldn’t despoil their own back yards…so is it the anglers, or cyclists, or simply your average ‘hard of thinking’? Whatever, it didn’t put us off .. the local folks we met were pretty much universally polite and welcoming.

Sadly Waltham Abbey Church was closed. But the churchyard was shady and cool on what was unfolding into another very hot day, the heat amplified by the humidity arising from yesterday’s rain. And it gave us more time to explore the gardens and grounds.

And here we found what we were looking for, one of the main reasons for this break, Striped Shieldbugs. Very familiar to us from mainland Europe, this area is the only reliable place to find them in the UK, having first turned up here three or four years ago, possibly related to the salad-packing factories nearby. And here they were, in singles and doubles on Hemlock plants around the margins of the grounds.

The rough grassland also contained other interesting invertebrates, including Bee-wolf, Yarrow Plume moth and Privet Leafhopper.

And then there were the formal gardens, especially those with Lavender hedging and edging. We simply had to sit and enjoy the huge number of bees, more in one place than than I have ever seen before in this country. The buzz was much more like that I used to enjoy in the Pyrenees. In just one short stretch of eight  metres of flowering Lavender we counted at least 150 bumblebees alone on one snapshot survey, involving at least six species.

And they were far from the only insects. There were a few Honeybees, plus numerous ladybirds, Cinnamon Bugs and Deraeocoris ruber, Commas, Large and Small Whites, Peacocks and a Painted Lady. Simply remarkable. And as we wandered off, a surprise in the form of a fly-through Marbled White, too fast for a photo, but always good to see. Congratulations to the Lee Valley Regional Park Authority for the provision and management of this greenspace and garden.

 

Maybe we should have stayed there longer, but it was getting to be very hot again so, after a short stroll along Cornmill Stream past Sweet-flag in the river and the first sweet blackberries in the hedges, the Crown pub was beckoning us for a lunchtime cold pint, in very pleasant surroundings.

Afterwards, a bus to Waltham Cross, to get the train home. While there, we thought a look around might be good. But we hadn’t contended with the heat, the crowds, too much traffic, the noise, the dust, the roadworks…and the Eleanor Cross (one of three remaining originals) inevitably was shrouded in hoardings and netting. Waltham Cross, you had your chance to engage, but blew it!

And so home. But clearly there is much more for us to explore in the Lee Valley,  downstream to Stratford and the Thames and upstream to Hertford and beyond. We will be back!

 

Way out West 4/4: Newport (Gwent)…

Thence to Newport. Why? Well, we like old ports (redeveloped or otherwise) and had seen its sculptures and bridges from station in past. It felt tempting, and when it appeared in our ‘go to inspiration’ the Guardian series Where tourists seldom tread... there was no doubt we would follow. Not that we are antisocial or anything like that!

We turned up at the hotel, the Mercure, with ease. It is the tallest building in town, a tower block that it has to be said is a bit of a blot on the landscape. But it is modern, comfortable, the staff very helpful and the views spectacular. And the building is called the Chartist Tower, a name that intrigued us. So we looked into it and that shaped our second day…

But first the river and riverside walks. We took a long walk down the east bank and back on the west, with convenient bridging points, the outermost giving us views to the next crossing, the iconic and apparently still functioning transporter bridge.

The tidal River Usk has saltmarsh, mud and reeds; brownfield sites and greenspace; bridges and sculptures, a combination that is both familiar from home, and individually unique…

And of course there was plenty of wildlife interest: plants, both wild and cultivated; Sycamore leaf galls caused by the mite Aceria pseudoplatani; and a variety of insects including Lackey moth caterpillar, Green Shield-bug nymph, Tree Bumblebee, the micromoth Teleioides vulgella, and some caterpillars (as yet unidentified) munching away communally and contentedly on the underside of Sallow leaves.

Rain came overnight, but the awful forecast for the following day never quite materialised and when it was at its worst we were conveniently dry in a café, museum or pub! The excellent museum helped fill in some of our interest in the Chartists that had been piqued by the name of our hotel building. A call for real democracy, to include votes for all men irrespective of property status, secret ballots, payment for MPs to allow the working class the opportunity to serve and all the trappings of the democracy we now take for granted (apart of course from female suffrage).

And so recently: demands for social and political reform arising from the working classes. Worse still, the abuse of power by those in charge, seeking to keep power and privilege to themselves, a rising quashed by force, leaving more than twenty Chartists dead, and the leaders of the movement sentenced to be hung and quartered. Simply shocking that this should have happened only 120 years before we were born…

So next it was a bus ride out to Rogerstone to see the Chartists’ Memorial, a roadside mosaic, for ourselves:

And there were found ourselves serendipitously close to the Fourteen Locks flight of locks that runs down to Newport. On a branch of the Monmouth & Brecon Canal, built originally in the late 18th century to transport coal and ores from the South Wales mountains.

Long disused and derelict, although now partially restored, the locks with their balancing ponds tumbling down the hillside in a 50 metre fall over just 700 metres gave us a lovely walk, one of the unexpected highlights of our entire holiday.

There was so much to see, including Alder Leaf-beetles. After being extinct in the UK for several decades, this was rediscovered twenty years ago and has subsequently colonised most of England; Newport is currently at the very western edge of its range. The highlight for us though was an Enchanters’-nightshade Stiltbug, only the second time we have seen this insubstantial insect. The area between Newport and Bristol (where we saw our first) seems to be one of its UK strongholds.

There was also a Garden Chafer and a Grypocoris stysi plant bug that feeds mostly on White Bryony, together with lots of ferns and duckweeds, and everywhere (as throughout the whole holiday) Hemlock Water-dropwort.

All rather damp given the weather, but none more attractively so than the droplet-bedecked Large White caterpillars adorning the canalside.

And returning  this way on foot took us past our final, almost horrifying, delight. Newport’s other blot on the landscape is the monumental civic centre. Started in 1937, completed in 1964, ostensibly Art Deco in style, to us it radiated more of a Franco Fascist-era grain silo aura. Rather unfortunate that, but it is undeniably monumental!

By now it was late afternoon, just time for a good meal in the Wig & Pen, and back home by train. Another holiday completed with no public transport delays at all!! And a theme seems to be developing…that’s two Newports in three weeks, after the Isle of Wight one. 100% approval rating so far. Perhaps we should look to complete the set of 16 (according to Wikipedia)?….

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Previous blogs of this holiday:

Way out West 1/4: Gloucester… | Chris Gibson Wildlife

Way out West 2/4: Haverfordwest… | Chris Gibson Wildlife

Way out West 3/4: St Davids & Solva… | Chris Gibson Wildlife

Way out West 3/4: St Davids & Solva…

Our day out from Haverfordwest by bus fortunately missed the rain bands that pushed through in the first part of the morning. First we were in our hotel, second we were on the bus and third we were in the St Davids Brunch House enjoying the very best meal of our whole break. This may have been open for only six months, but they certainly know what they are doing: worth heading way out west for!

Of course the main destination for our day was St Davids, and specifically the cathedral, although the Bishop’s Palace was also worth a peer from a distance.

The cathedral was lovely and welcoming, and told stories of the religious shaping of our islands. They are also trying to help shape the future, with Swift boxes and signage (and indeed we did see one), although the holy mowers out to strip the landscape of Daisies and Dandelions (noisily!) for the visiting hordes rather spoilt the message.

Inside, the ceilings were spectacular and the misericords entertaining…

… while the Welsh cake cream teas were simply delicious (I rarely photograph food, so these are the beautifully dappled surroundings!) and the secret garden a haven of quiet, light and colour.

We then took to the woods in search of bugs, and whenever we found a sunny corner sheltered from the cool breeze, there they were, all manner of flies, bugs, scorpion-flies, weevils and more…

 

Also fascinating was the fact that Navelwort was here growing on the woodland floor (not rocks and walls), and extending to 80cm in height, several times larger than the usual nutrient-starved examples elsewhere in full sunlight.

The local walls also of course also had a rich array of ferns, including Black Spleenwort, and lichens.

St Davids was lovely, if rather busy. Our next port of call, Solva, a small coastal village was similarly lovely to look at (although the sun had departed), and presumably similarly busy in the height of the season, to judge from the size of the car park. But not today: it was quiet and even the pub welcome was subdued. Or even absent. A typical ‘pub that doesn’t have to try’ because of its natural advantages in terms of location…

Still we had a (swift) drink and headed down the cove, among the rocks with maritime lichens and salt-spray-tolerant plants such as Thrift, English Stonecrop and Rock Sea-spurrey, with wind- and salt-sculpted scrub covering the slopes, lit up festooning Honeysuckle and spires of Foxglove.

And of course at least a few insects, including a Gelis ichneumon, with remarkably marked wings:

Then back to Haverfordwest on the last bus: every bus of the day was punctual, and with a day ticket for the T11 service between Haverfordwest and Fishguard, very good value allowing us to hop on and off at will. A great day out, with at least a hint of the westerly weather we had come prepared for!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Other blogs of this holiday:

Way out West 1/4: Gloucester… | Chris Gibson Wildlife

Way out West 2/4: Haverfordwest… | Chris Gibson Wildlife

Way out West 4/4: Newport (Gwent)… | Chris Gibson Wildlife

Late Spring on the Isle of Wight

A lovely smooth hovercraft crossing on a warm, sunny day brought us to Ryde by early afternoon, and the start of our four-night break in the Isle of Wight, an island I have never visited before. Be aware this is quite a long blog, with more than a hundred photos: we packed in quite a lot!

As with so many seaside towns, Ryde is a place of faded glories. Around the town there are many fine buildings, signs of former wealth, though many have seen better days. Take the former Royal York Hotel…an art deco marvel when it was built no doubt, still intact but now wasting away…

The pier and seafront had the usual facilities, including our comfortable Ryde Castle hotel, and a restaurant, Fumo33, where we had the best meal of our holiday.

And of course the views, across the Solent to Portsmouth and the ever-present interest of vessels moving along and across the channel, and weather approaching.

In terms of wildlife, there were lichens everywhere, on unpolluted bark, salt-splashed timbers and gull perching posts…

Around the town, Swifts screamed overhead, Holly Blues and Red Admirals were active in the sunlight and the walls were clothed in Red Valerian, Mexican Fleabane, Wall-rue and both Adria and Trailing Bellflowers, with figworts habouring Figwort Weevils.

After overnight rain, we headed by train for a day in Shanklin. The forecast of heavy rain proved pessimistic, but the sun was largely missing as we explored, again a run-down town but this one with a chocolate box thatched old village tacked unconformably on one side.

From here we walked around Shanklin Chine, although only skirting the gorge…on such a gloomy day it would have been doubly gloomy in the depths of the abyss.

Rylstone Gardens gave us the chance to find a few soggy insects, galls and flowers, and views along the coast from the cliff-edge. The Zigzag Elm Sawfly is interesting as the National Biodiversity Network Atlas shows it at only 3 locations on the island, all at the diametrically opposite side from Shanklin.

 

And then after taking refuge from a heavy shower in the Village Inn, we headed down to the shore. Beyond the promenade, the cliff slopes had Great Horsetail, Hemlock Water-dropwort and Sea Radish, the latter being demolished by Large White caterpillars.

And then back along the prom, looking towards the chalk cliffs of Culver Down, with Fulmars flying by, a pristine pair of Mediterranean Gulls on the beach and a Painted Lady on the Seaside Daisy flowers.

 

Next day, the sun returned and we were off to Ventnor for the second half of our stay, this time using the island’s remarkably efficient bus service. Our destination was Ventnor, which certainly felt a more appealing place than anywhere else we had been. That impression grew immeasurably while sitting in the tiny Spring Hill Garden: a Glanville Fritillary flitted around us, and sunned itself on the paths. We had hoped to see this speciality of the southern slopes of the Isle of Wight, but never expected to in the middle of town!

Ventnor Park was the next stop, for lunch and a wander along the stream, with Azure and Large Red Damselflies, Water Crickets and plants telling us we were in a climatically favoured part of the world.

Then at last the final stroll to our main reason for visiting the island (conceived when we visited the Hillier Garden in Romsey last July, another garden created and bequeathed by Sir Harold Hillier): Ventnor Botanic Garden, set in the most privileged of places, at the foot of a steep slope, facing south in the southernmost part of the island, billed as Britain’s Hottest Garden.

The plants were magnificent, from forests of Giant Viper’s Bugloss buzzing with bees to Cabbage Palms, their flowers scenting the air extravagantly.

 

There were amazing floral and foliar sights and scents at every turn:

  

But not just plants from afar – there were Ivy Broomrapes in Ivy-filled borders and Yellow Flags around the ponds, to name just two:

The environmental ethos of the garden feels exemplary, plants to match the conditions, not overly concerned with tidiness, and with many demonstrations of a holistic approach to garden sustainability.

The wildlife seemed to love it too, with all manner of bees and other insects visiting the flowers, oblivious to the far distant origins of most.

 

Galls always fascinate us and included Aculops fuchsiae (mite gall on Fuchsia), Plagiotrochus quercusilicis(wasp gall on Evergreen Oak) and Taphrina caerulescens (fungus gall on Red Oak). We first saw the latter in Dulwich a couple of weeks ago; according to the NBN Atlas it is not known from the Isle of Wight.

A Grey Heron was a regular visitor to the ornamental pond, where it fished alongside the resident Red-eared Slider terrapins.

And two of the specialities: Red Squirrels on their island refuge away from the threat of Greys,  and Common Wall Lizards, not native to Britain but reputedly washed ashore from a shipwreck and now well established.

 

And we had the pleasure of two nights staying in Smugglers’ Lodge, within the garden, one of the buildings remaining from the garden’s previous incarnation as a hospital.

Even around the lodge there were Wall Lizards along with Ivy Broomrapes and vast lines of ants. But not just any ant: apparently these are Tapinoma ibericum, native to southern Spain and Portugal. First found around a decade ago, it is assumed they were accidentally brought into the garden, transported on the root balls of plants. This represents the only known established population outside its native range. And interestingly, the species is used  there as a biological control of unwanted agricultural ‘pests’ – perhaps it plays a similar role here?

Staying in the garden gave us the opportunity to experience the surroundings, solitude, scentscape and birdsong, at times when there was virtually no-one else there. That’s what we went hoping for. Sadly, ’twas not to be. On our single full day there, after a glorious hour savoring the scents and the silence (save for birdsong) a groundsman with a leaf-blower started up at 07.45 and continued unabated until lunchtime, until we were forced off site by the aural intrusion. Was this really necessary? And was a petrol-driven blower really the only answer, given the gardens’ otherwise exemplary environmental ethos?

So it was not perfect, although we really wanted it to be. And while being picky, I should also say that as a botanical professional, I think the name ‘Botanic Garden’ is a misnomer. A real botanic garden, for me, should have an overtly educational mission, and this should include comprehensive and accurate labelling of the undeniably exciting forms. Sadly this was not the case, and it felt more like a municipal park with special plants than a real botanic garden.

Anyway, as always we made the most of adversity, and when forced out of the garden by the racket, we walked down to the neighbouring Steephill Cove. One of the highlights of our holiday, it had sea views and soundtrack, interesting insects including more Glanville Fritillaries, Common Blues and Iris Weevils (on Ox-eye Daisy!).

And from the Crab Shed, absolutely delicious crab pasty, salmon pasty and mackerel baguette. This was a perfect lunch in a perfect place, away from the annoyances of that which should have been perfect.

From there it was a short walk back along the coast path, the more natural vegetation of the cliff top (apart from the Hop plantation) a contrast to the garden. I was briefly stopped in my tracks by a broomrape that I hoped might prove to be a new site for the exceedingly rare Oxtongue Broomrape, found in a couple of spots elsewhere on the island. But eventually it proved to be a somewhat anomalous form of Ivy Broomrape, albeit a couple of metres away from any aerial Ivy. The roots do travel!

Our final morning dawned damp, dull and breezy so after a lovely breakfast in the botanic garden cafe, we headed straight out by bus to Newport. The county town of the island, one thing that distinguishes this from the other towns we visited was it has a bypass, and so the interior is not plagued by cars. Indeed, it also had a vibrant, arts feel, with the Quay Arts Gallery, a fine Minster and lots of interesting buildings. Plus the Bargeman’s Rest pub where we had an excellent lunch and a pint. So taken were we that if we ever return to explore the western half of the island, we will make Newport our base and travel out each day by bus.

All to soon it was time to head back to Ryde for the return hovercraft crossing. And here another word of warning: if you book rail and crossing together through a third party, like Trainline as we did, a booking doesn’t constitute a booking. To ensure your place on a specific crossing you need to book it additionally with Hovertravel. At no time in the booking process, nor on the outward journey were we told this. Indeed they shouldn’t have taken our money without a firm booking: that is simply deceitful, taking money under false pretences.

Of course we complained, but predictably the parties who replied blamed each other.  Hovertravel blamed Trainline, Trainline blamed everyone else, and South Western Railways haven’t yet replied. In reality of course, all are to blame for failing to be grown up and talk to each other and develop a fully integrated booking system, or at least to communicate effectively.  In this day and age, that is unforgiveable, especially as we had onward, timed rail bookings; not to have made the connections could have cost us a lot of money. But fortunately the helpful check-in man from Hovertravel just managed to get us on the intended sailing, but only due to a couple of last minute no shows.

 

 

Maldon: the waterworld of mid-Essex

Maldon is one of those places we rarely visit, mainly because it is no longer on the railway network. But every time we have, we have thought it would be good to explore it in more depth by staying overnight. So for our April short break, encompassing my birthday, we did just that via train to Witham, then bus to Maldon. Actually we got off at Heybridge, right next to its attractive historic church, in part going back to the 12th Century, now sadly beset with roaring traffic. And closed. Although the Primrose-filled garden with Bee-flies was some compensation…

From there we walked along the towpath of the Chelmer & Blackwater Navigation, right out to its end at Heybridge Basin.

Clear blue skies above meant sun, but any April warmth was robbed by a keen easterly wind, tempered only in the lee of the canalside hedge. Sallow and Blackthorn were in full bloom, the latter sprinkling entire landscapes with snow-dust, while Dandelions and White Dead-nettles added their resources to the insect-scape.

And in the sheltered spots the insects were out taking full advantage, the first big emergence we have seen this year. These included the familiar spring species like Dark-edged Bee-fly and Peacock, newly emerged aquatic beasties such as Alder-flies, a few things like Pied Shield-bug that we see only occasionally, and an array of early mining-bees, notoriously hard to identify, but here probably including Andrena trimmerana and A. bicolor. 

And then basking in the warmth of April (known appropriately as aprication) there were numerous Nursery-web Spiders and an Oak Eggar moth caterpillar.

The waters of the canal had Mallards, Moorhens and Mute Swans; overhead half a dozen Mediterranean Gulls yowling in transit to the adjacent gravel pits; and everywhere bird song: lots of Chiffchaffs and Blackcaps, five or so Cetti’s Warblers and a couple of hesitant Willow Warblers, the latter probably very fresh arrivals.

After a lovely lunch in the Jolly Sailor, we kept walking round the sea wall, by now in the teeth of the cold wind. So no insects, even on the Alexanders, but lovely views over Heybridge Gravel Pits and, as we rounded the bend, of Maldon with its distinctive profile, set on a hill with three very different church outlines, fringed by the rigging of the iconic sailing barges.

And as it was coming up to high tide, estuary birds were congregating in front of us, especially Black-tailed Godwits in full rust breeding plumage, about to depart for Iceland, and Brent Geese, soon to Siberia.

The final part of our circuit alongside Heybridge Creek was through the industrial park, but before long we were sitting with a welcome drink outside the Muddy Duck

… contemplating our ascent up the hill to our destination, the historic Blue Boar Hotel, a very comfortable coaching inn, complete with the uneven floors that are par for the course in such an old building. A fine place to spend a couple of nights, with good breakfasts and local beer in the tap room.

Next day, more sun, and more waterside walking, this time upstream of the town, to Beeleigh.  The circular walk starts along the lower slopes of the Maldon hill, looking over the tidal river with Teals and Redshanks, going through Blackthorn-sparkled scrub with vocal Blackcaps, through spiny holloways, and across springs erupting with the mushroom-like, spore-bearing spikes of Giant Horsetail.

 

Passing Beeleigh Abbey, where the landscape still bears the ravages of Dutch Elm Disease, it was pleasing to see the new owners’ investment in landscape and ecological restoration with newly planted and newly laid hedge-lines: singing Yellowhammer and Stock Dove bear witness to the recovering wildlife.

Before long we arrived at the meeting of the waters, where two of the main rivers of Essex, the Chelmer and Blackwater, converge, interlinked with the navigation and other minor waterbodies and mill races, and arrive at the head of the tidal estuary. And at low tide, a world of waterfalls over weirs, bridges and locks, rushing waters and still backwaters, Grey Wagtails and a Kingfisher…

With all this moving water, not surprisingly in historic times, the energy of the landscape was harnessed by mills, a powerhouse of which the remnants are still to be seen:

But such human intrusions are a minor part of the landscape hereabouts, dominated by reedbeds and riverine woodland, just crying out for Beavers!

The rivers were lined by last year’s skeletal Giant Hogweed and Teasels, with fresh flowers of Evergreen Alkanet, Common Dog-violet and Ground-ivy coming through, attracting more Peacocks, Red Admirals, Commas and Dark-edged Bee-flies, with Honeybees drinking from the damp paths.

And so we headed back alongside the golf-course, under the by-pass, and into Maldon’s newest nature reserve, Ironworks Meadow, a lovely grass and wetland complex abutting the retail and industrial area, established by community action.

That just leaves Maldon itself. Did I mention it is on a hill? Must be just about the steepest in Essex. In the past, having always driven up it, we simply didn’t notice the wonderful array of historic buildings. But walking up, the architecture and history were a good excuse to rest the flatlanders’ legs!

Working down the High Street, first to All Saint’s Church with its apparently unique triangular tower, although really appreciable only from the inside …

… past the Moot Hall, to the former St Peter’s Church, now home to the Maeldune Heritage Centre (including the tapestry commemorating the Battle of Maldon and other key historical moments in the town) and on the first floor the absolutely wonderful Thomas Plume’s Library. What a remarkable, unheralded treasure of books from the 16th and 17th Centuries, left to the town by Dr Thomas Plume (1630-1704) in a purpose-built premises on the site of the old church. If you want to be enraptured, go there when it is open and get a tour from one of the incredibly knowledgeable librarians  – our guide clearly loves her charges and her role in safeguarding then for the future with a passion.

Heading onwards down the High Street, past Salt Italian restaurant where we had a really excellent meal one evening, we ducked down first to the more industrial river frontage …

…before moving round to the Hythe and another distinctive church/seamark, St Mary the Virgin, perched above the waterfront.

We have never found it open before, and at first glance the inside was rather disappointing compared with the glorious mishmash exterior structure…

.. until we saw the window, THE window, commemorating the Battle of Maldon, with the sun coming straight in creating these remarkable patchworks of colour.

And so onto the quay, a drink in the Queen’s Head, a look at the sailing barges …

… and a final wander out to the end of the promenade, to the statue of Byrhtnoth, leader of the Anglo-Saxon forces who snatched defeat from the jaws of victory against the Vikings nearby in 991. A pivotal moment in the history of our islands, this has been covered in epic poety, writing and art, but for me never better than in the song ‘The Battle of Maldon’ by Leaves’ Eyes.

A fine end to three days of wall-to-wall sunshine, already with plans to return when Beeleigh Abbey gardens are open, and to walk out to the Mundon Oaks!