As we left the station at Lanark, something was clearly afoot. Crowds, flags, bunting, revelry and general merriment, people in various states of undress despite the freezing wind – on a Thursday afternoon! We felt the transition from genteel Dunoon acutely. No hope of getting a drink as the pubs were so crowded, we headed on through towards New Lanark, gradually piecing together the fact that it was Lanimer Day, a very historic annual event (dating back to 1140) linked to beating the bounds of the ancient Royal Burgh (‘Land Marches’) and now serving as a general gala day. Everybody is involved, so as we headed out of town, it all became quiet, then quieter and, as we descended into New Lanark, quietest, apart from the constant reassuring rush of the tumbling Clyde.

First impressions of the World Heritage Site mill town was of amazing architecture, a good number of cars, but no people at all. It all felt vaguely Wicker Man, or like one of those post-apocalyptic movies where you wake up to find you are alone in the world …

The rushing waters give the clue to this place. All that natural hydropower could be put to good use, and was from 1786 to power cotton mills. The settlement includes homes for workers, due to the involvement of utopian philanthropist Robert Owen, one of the originators of the co-operative movement. The hotel is now actually in the main mill building.

Once indoors, we did find civilization, albeit cocooned from the outside world. A lovely room, directly overlooking the river, with Sand Martins swirling around in by now very pleasant sunshine. And lots of opportunity to explore the exterior of the stone buildings (all except the hotel closed because of Lanimer Day), the remarkable architecture bathed in light, throwing shadows as the sun started to set…

The mill and town are set within a lovely wooded landscape, clothing a really quite impressive rocky gorge. In part conifer plantation, in part old Oak and Beech, some with wonderfully gnarled roots and buttresses.

Mosses and ferns clothed the forest floor, that growth extending upward onto the boughs, in places luxuriantly coated with epiphytes.

There were of course other trees too, including flowering Laburnum (in a habitat resembling its native sites in European mountains), Bird Cherry (clad in the silken webs of Bird Cherry Ermine micromoths) and Guelder-rose nibbled to bits by Viburnum Beetle larvae.

The Falls of Clyde provided a whole series of dramatic glimpses of the fledgling river as we walked upstream from the mill, taking a leisurely approach to a walk that should only take an hour or so as the weather was sunny and warm(ish) for most of the day.

A Grey Heron waded in one section of the river, while a few Dippers and Grey Wagtails were feeding in the rapids. Jackdaws and Ravens made their presence known noisily, with Siskins wheezing and a few Spotted Flycatchers spotted flycatching.

The gorge and woodland had many interesting flowers. Closer to the town, there were lots of garden escapes (many of which are really useful for insects): Rock Crane’s-bill, Fox-and-cubs, Monkeyflower, Dame’s-violet and Masterwort.

Deeper into the nature reserve, native woodland plants predominated, including Foxglove, Water Avens, Welsh Poppy, Common Cow-wheat and Red Campion, the deep red flowers of the latter ‘undiluted’ by the genes of lowland White Campions.

And the best of the plants, ones that we are relatively or wholly unfamiliar with in Essex included Marsh Hawk’s-beard, Tuberous Comfrey and Bitter Vetch.

For the first time this summer we found ourselves in the presence of lots of galls. Most of them – those on Lime, Oak and Wych Elm – were common enough, but two were new to us and seemingly less frequent. On Bilberry the swollen reddened leaves are the result of infection by the fungus Exobasidium myrtilli, forming the blaeberry redleaf gall  while the red pimply paint-patches on Silver Birch were caused by the mite Acalitus longisetosus. According to the National Biodiversity Network atlas, this is not previously recorded from that part of Scotland, being concentrated in the Highlands and also very thinly scattered in England and Wales. It was present on only one tree that we found, but is certainly very distinctive.

And we also found the nature reserve to be a a great place for a selection of insects and other invertebrates.

Among these, there were a few edge-of-range species and and ones not not previously recorded from that part of Scotland, including the lace-bug Tachycixius pilosus and click-beetle Denticollis linearis …

… while a couple of dramatic highlights included a mating pair of Giant Craneflies and a Scorpion-fly Panorpa germanica tucking into a dance-fly.

Given that the hotel is the only feeding spot without a considerable uphill walk, the restaurant provided us with very reasonably priced and excellent sustenance. I especially enjoyed the salmon medley, (the smoked component with such a delicate smoky-sweet cure) and chicken supreme with smoked cheese stuffing, while Jude liked the creamed goats’ cheese and figs and the chickpea curry.

On our second morning after a good breakfast we were taken by electric minibus (as befits a World Heritage Site) through Lanark – now approaching normality! – to the station for the third part of our break, in Glasgow. Having lived with the sound of the tumbling Clyde for two days, its absence was almost deafening….

POSTSCRIPT

Only when we got home and started working through the photos, entering them onto irecord, and checking their known distributions on the NBN Atlas did we come to appreciate how few of the things we found have ever been recorded at this site before, indeed how few of them have any records on the NBN anywhere near to New Lanark. WE have therefore prepared a complete listing for the record (see here Falls of Clyde), which will be sent to the Scottish Wildlife Trust who own the reserve.

Some of these have been pointed out in the main blog (see Exobasidium myrtilli, Acalitus longisetosus, Tachycixius pilosus and Denticollis linearis above). But others were more surprising, not least because they are so obvious and frankly unmistakeable, such as Meadowsweet Rust, the galls on Lime, Elm and Oak, and the larvae and munchings of Viburnum Leaf-beetle.

And how about the Gold-barred Longhorn moth. Very familiar to we southerners, if the NBN is up to date, our record is some 60km further north than it has ever been recorded before. Distributional data and changes in distribution are one of the main sources of information we have to underpin conservation policy and practice, so my plea is for anyone who visits an unfamiliar area, don’t assume that all you see is commonplace or already known. Record it for posterity: every data point is a step towards a better future.

June’s contribution of our ‘year of short breaks by train’ is likely to be the longest one of all, fittingly as it coincided with Jude’s birthday. Late afternoon we were drawing into Gourock in unsettled weather, a mix of sun, showers and cool northerly wind, pretty much par for the whole trip and indeed the whole of this Spring! The half-hour foot-ferry crossing to Dunoon made light of the choppy conditions, as we steamed past Gannets and Arctic Terns.

Quick check-in, and the sun was out, so a leg-stretch along West Bay was very much in order. The tide was out, providing feeding for Oystercatchers and Hooded Crows (really in Scotland now!), together with a few motley Carrion/Hoodie hybrids.

Eiders were swimming and loafing beyond the tideline, while the stony upper beach had flowering Sea Radish and Danish Scurvy-grass.

Around the pier, there were Rock Pipits feeding and singing, and patches of Orange-dot Lichen Protoblastenia rupestris (with its distinctive raised, rounded, orange fruiting bodies) on the pavements and walls.

And the tinkling whisper of ‘Goldcrest song’… but seaward?! It was persistent, but it took some time to realise that it was the courtship song of Black Guillemots, the most un-auk-like sound imaginable. And interestingly, the otherwise wonderful Merlin birdsong app either couldn’t hear it or didn’t recognise it.

In the churchyard, lichens on gravestones are always worth a look, especially in less-polluted westerly areas …

… and indeed older walls throughout the town provided botanical interest from Ivy-leaved Toadflax, to Maidenhair Spleenwort and Wall-rue, to Fairy Foxglove and New Zealand Willowherb.

Most of our one full day in the area was taken up with a visit to the outstanding Benmore Botanic Garden, an outpost of the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh. In theory it was easily accessed by bus, although Argyll & Bute Council/West Coast Motors had changed the timetable a couple of days earlier – without changing the timetables at the bus-stops or online. We turned up at the bus-stop ‘ahead of time’ only to see the bus departing  into the distance., with the next one due in two hours. Clyde Taxis to the rescue, but a pretty poor show from the providers of public transport we thought.

Situated in the mountains, and indeed running up some pretty steep slopes, Benmore Garden has lots to interest any gardener or naturalist.

First the birdsong: Chaffinches everywhere and several Willow Warblers, respectively ‘going’ and ‘gone’ from our south-eastern haunts. A female Red Deer watched us watching it, and a fleeting Red Squirrel skittered along a trackside trying to avoid unleashed dogs.

From avenues of Giant Redwoods to mature plantings of numerous Rhododendron species and cultivars, together with numerous Southern Hemisphere shrubs and trees, the garden pays testament to the plant hunters of the past and its relatively mild situation encompassed by the Gulf Stream warmed waters of the Firth of Clyde.

Exotic perennial plantings too, the like of which we can only dream of in the (normally)  arid plains of Essex:

All of the cultivated delights are alongside a wonderful array of native mosses and liverworts, ferns, lichens and flowering plants:

As always we focused upon the tiny creatures, which included nymphal Forest Bugs, a range of planthoppers and mirid bugs, barklice and snipe-flies. And while there were some, fortunately not too many midges for comfort…

Benmore really exceeded our expectations, and throughout the day, we managed to avoid the showers wholly either in the garden café or the pubs back in Dunoon! A final word must go to food (always a focus of our trips). We ate outstanding evening meals at both the Lorne and Tryst, the former having perhaps better atmosphere and service. Cullen Skink at the Lorne was actually bettered by smoked haddock chowder at Tryst, but salmon pate, mushroom and leek gnocchi and black-pudding and haggis bonbons (Lorne) and lamb shoulder and vegetable lasagne (Tryst) also scored highly. And the Lorne’s uplifting pairing of mashed turnip and peppercorn sauce was simply inspired.

It was good to return to Dunoon, despite the cool weather, but after a couple of nights it was away, back across the Firth, to uncharted lands for us around the upper reaches of the Clyde …

Our latest trip to London was in direct response the book we reviewed a few months ago about the botanical origins of modern, prescription medicines. The book told us about the garden of medicinal plants created by the Royal College of Physicians and the monthly guided walks around it. When we found that the May walk was to be led by a good friend of ours, our May Day out was inevitable.

The gardens may be small but they are packed with interest, hundreds of species with connections to medicine. While there are some crossovers with the Chelsea Physic Garden, that is rooted in herbalism whereas the RCP garden is more scientific, with medically proven plants rather than those that have assumed functionality based on for example the fanciful Doctrine of Signatures. It is also a beautifully laid out garden, geographically themed and impeccably labelled (surprisingly not a feature of too many botanical gardens!).

So, few of the plants below are named. You simply need to go there and find the labels yourself: it is free, indeed the walks are free, you just need to check in at reception (and book onto the guided walks). The plants range from familiar and common to rarely seen, wild to cultivated, the ordinary to the beautiful, like the very-familiar-but-stunning-close-up polka-dot paradise that is London Pride:

There were even a few that I as a hardened botanic garden visitor had never seen before, the buttercup relative  Beesia calthifolia  and the South African Buddleia glomerata, most unBuddleia-like although perhaps the leaves do echo those of the Buddleia crispa I am so familiar with at Beth Chatto Gardens.

And not just interesting flowers. Podophyllum ‘Spotty Dotty’ always makes an impact, but here it is the Box in the bottom corner of the picture that is most significant. Lots of Box around the garden, and no signs of Box Moth damage, and it was very pleasing to hear from the Head Gardener that this is not achieved by use of chemical pesticides. Given the business of the RCP it would be ironic if they were to resort to pesticides (= poisons) to keep the garden looking good, notwithstanding the recognition of the subtle dividing line between medicines and poisons…

Away from the plants, yes of course there were Rose-ringed Parakeets, together with invertebrates including the little spider Nigma puella, Rose Aphids and the Plane Bug, no doubt using the Oriental Plane that dominates one of the garden areas.

It is a lovely garden and we will certainly make it a regular stop-off on our trips to London, to see it at different stages of the year.

And so it was then across the road to Regent’s Park on what was just about the first really warm day of the year. The trees were springing into leaf, each recognisable by their hue, rather than the ‘standard’ green of foliage later in the season sullied by the trials of life.

Once again plants, both wild and cultivated …

… but what really struck me was the overlooked beauty of the humble, freshly emerged Ribwort Plantain.

There was a Reed Warbler singing summer into the merest sliver of a reedbed by the lake, and as always a range of insects and other critters to slow down our perambulation!

We were especially pleased to see the galls of the spring generation of the gall-wasp Andricus grossulariae on the dangling tassel catkins of Turkey Oak, rather like the redcurrant galls on native oaks (the spring generation of Spangle Gall-wasps) but with a nipple-like projection. A. grossulariae is one of the gall-causers that have two generations in a year, each generation on a different species, and in this case one native and the other non-native. Some pretty complex happenstance here for it to have become established in this country –  it arrived  here around the turn of the Millennium.

A couple of final images from the Park, first a pollard willow doing its best to recreate ‘The Scream’, and some ‘interesting’ imagery on the bins. A fine message but to feature a Wryneck as the star seems a bit ambitious!

While in the area of course we could not ignore the surrounding built environment, especially since the business end of the RCP is housed in a Brutalist masterpiece by Denys Lasdun (we must book on one of the architectural tours in due course!):

Out the back are the impressive Art Deco Melia Apartments, and just up the road Chester Terrace, in all its Neo-Classical ‘finery’ (ie not to our taste!)…

… and  a selection of other styles, including an ‘old friend’ looking benevolently on.

Another wonderfully varied day of delights!

Well the forecast for our April short break was for rain, but in the event it turned out sunny with blue skies much of the time, albeit with a chill north breeze and very low temperatures overnight. We headed west this time, taking in Gloucester and Hereford, one night in each, and rail journeys throughout.

Parts of Gloucester felt very familiar: some of our favourite places are regenerated, rejuvenated docks and waterfronts (Glasgow, East London and Salford spring to mind, along of course with Wivenhoe).

To corrupt the album title of folk-rock grandee Ashley Hutchings – by Gloucester Dock we sat down and the sky wept: as we sat and watched, a rain cloud blew up out of a blue sky and started to deposit wintery, sleety rain on us, and providing ample photo opportunities, all droplets and ripples ….

Among the repurposed dock buildings one survivor from several centuries earlier is the 12th century Augustinian priory of Llanthony Secunda.

Around the docks themselves, wildlife (indeed, any greenery) is generally hard to come by, apart from the roof-nesting Lesser Black-backed and Herring Gulls coming down to feed and bathe.

Some of the old warehouses that have not (yet) been renovated  have a few plants, such as Oxford Ragwort, ornamenting the heights; patches of Ivy-leaved Toadflax and Hemlock Water-dropwort were clinging to the harbour walls; and where the the docksides and wall-tops are covered in moss, Rue-leaved Saxifrage was in full flower, the red-tinged stems and lower leaves spangled with white stars….

But only a short stroll away, it was out to and along the River Severn, still tidal this high up-stream,  with silt deposits on the riverbank nettlebeds indicating recent flooding, or perhaps a large Severn Bore.

Here we were able to immerse ourselves in nature for a few precious moments in the sun.

Away from the water, and always on view from anywhere in the city, at its heart is of course the magnificent cathedral, its stone really coming to life as the sun came out…

Inside the nave, monstrous columns support Romanesque arches while the more recent quire is highly ornamented, especially the ceiling with coloured, interlinked bosses:

One of our favourite things in cathedrals is stained glass – the more modern the better!

But pride of place must go the the cloister, and its remarkable fan-vaulting: a magnificent photographic paradise…

So engrossed were we with the Cathedral and Docks, we rather overlooked the rest of the city.  Suffice to say, the priories and churches, historic streets and pubs were a tempting prospect, one that will probably see us return in the not-too-distant future, perhaps as a stopover on our way to Wales.

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After two half-days it was back onto the train for the trip to Hereford, a straight line distance of some 50km, but two hours by train. And what a journey! Right down the western shore of the Severn Estuary, the Forest of Dean off to our right. At Chepstow, across the Wye, and soon we were at Newport, to change onto the line up the Usk valley to Abergavenny, past the Skirrid mountain and ultimately to Hereford.

Another day, another city, another monumental cathedral…

Yes, Hereford Cathedral had some very good points, the Mappa Mundi and chained library (which we found more exciting than we expected), together with some wonderful modern stained glass especially in the Lady Chapel, and John Piper tapestries. But in some undefinable way it all felt a little less friendly than Gloucester Cathedral.

And while the city certainly has historic interest, some of it felt to be only skin-deep, exemplified by the ‘iconic’ Black & White House on which some of the ‘half- timbering’ was actually white paper with black painted lines, stapled on. No doubt there was a good reason but we did feel a little short-changed!

Otherwise, it was a jumble of the delightful and grotty, with sometimes jarring juxtapositions between old and new.

But the pubs were good, especially the amazing pies and mash at the Queens Arms (best meal of our trip!) and of course, as always, a river. The River Wye, with lovely views of the cathedral,  bridges ancient and modern, and river-bank vegetation including dock leaves being demolished by and hosting bejewelled orgies of Dock Leaf-beetles.

Old walls , especially around the cathedral, had flowers such as Aubrieta and Yellow Corydalis …

… and we had Mistletoe just outside our hotel window (as indeed it seems to be everywhere in this part of the country): some trees are very heavily infested and appear to be suffering as a result:

And as at Gloucester, the city was dominated by Lesser Black-backed Gulls, standing sentinel on rooftops and washing in the river.

So another city well worth a visit, even if somewhat different to what we had expected. And then it was back on the train home, for much of the way through previously uncharted waters for our personal Mappa Mundi, through Great Malvern and Worcester (more ideas for another short break?), Pershore, Evesham and Oxford.

Three days, nine trains, two cathedrals and lots of fun: remarkably every single train was within two minutes of its timetabled time. All that, and with advance booking and railcard a total travel cost for the two of us £78, what’s not to love about that?

Kew is always a delight, and even during really busy times (such as Easter holidays when Bluey is in town) it is always full of photogenic subjects. This time though, with somewhat inclement weather, many of the photos were taken in the glasshouses. No words, just pictures: flowers, foliage, fruits and architecture…

But for the first time we saw the gardens through the eyes and camera of Eleanor, our six-year-old grand-daughter, on her first visit to Kew.  Here are some of her images from her own unique viewpoint: we do forget that someone only 120cm tall is so often looking through bars and railings, and always upwards. In the right hands, one of Papa’s old cameras can teach us all a lesson!

Continuing our series of short breaks in places no-one thinks about visiting for fun, we headed to Reading. It was a trip dominated by water: a deluge on the third day, and both the Thames and Kennet brim full and in full spate after the rain of the past few months.

Indeed, such was the flooding that our planned walk along the Thames Path and back along the Kennet soon came to a sploshy premature conclusion:

Rivers mean bridges and railings, always a good opportunity for photos…

… while pond-snails foraged on the rusty rails, presumably scraping up algae and camouflage at the same time.

Of course we knew about the rivers in advance, but what we were not prepared for was the history in the town. The Abbey Ruins especially were impressive, made all the more alluring by the fact that it was then the sun came out for the only time, and the skies cleared to crystalline blue.

As with ancient walls everywhere, the stonework provides ample niches for microcosmic gardens, each packed with biodiversity. Only Whitlow-grass in flower right now, but imagine what they will be like in a short few weeks’ time…

Churchyards as always were filled with life, from flowering Yews to moss-sprung turf …

… with parks and plantings starting to bloom and bud-burst after the winter slumber. Here, Cherry-plum, Cornelian-cherry and Box in flower, with the beautiful buds of Winged Spindle, and last year’s filigree festoons of Old Man’s Beard:

Interesting old buildings everywhere, including the Minster and its patterned walls…

…  to more recent, yet still fascinating buildings reminding us of the half-remembered features of the town: the Gaol and biscuits!

And so to the unashamedly modern: glass and underpasses, fossils in the pavements, sculpture and living walls:

… while from almost every angle, The Blade watches benevolently overhead, competing for attention only with the Red Kites.

And finally the main reason for our visit: the Museum, itself housed in an impressive building …

… filled with everything from biscuit tins to Roman artefacts from the nearby Silchester:

… and the replica of the Bayeux ‘Tapestry’. A Victorian facsimile, this is full scale, 70 metres long,  and was featured in a BBC art series a couple of years ago. It was this that meant we found ourselves in the town, but as with so much about Reading we were wholly unprepared for the impact it would have on us. An hour walking slowly round the gallery was like being immersed in a living graphic novel, and at the end we felt we had been through the carnage of the battle. As good a reason as any to go to Reading, just to see that.

For our first trip of the year we headed back to one of our favourite stamping grounds, Chiswick (see here for previous blog). Not only is the Premier Inn right next to the Chiswick Flyover (!) it is also just about the cheapest room we have found. And it is next to the Fullers brewery!! And a friendly pub, the George & Devonshire!!!

On top of all of that, Chiswick is a great hopping off point to sites in West London we wanted to visit. And as we realised this time, a couple of places sharing a common theme of Reuse and Recycle, part of the palimpsest of history, each new chapter overwritten on the previous.

So on the way there it was Battersea Power Station: an incredible, hulking edifice, its shape so iconic, and now converted to somewhere you can actually visit and touch some of its six million bricks.

Inside as well as out, simply vast, but tastefully done, the shop signs in concordance with each other and lacking gaudy advertising, just like we found so pleasing in an equally imposing edifice last year, the Halifax Piece Hall.

But as well as its sheer bulk, there are artistic touches everywhere, intentional and otherwise, some absolutely remarkable for such an utilitarian building:

The only slight disappointment was the way the edifice is now hemmed in by new high-rise flats (no doubt needed to fund the conservation of the main building)…

But from the riverbank the iconic outline is still visible, along with views  along the Thames:

Out on the water there was a flock of Gadwalls, and then on the supports of the coal jetty, the most wonderful lichenscapes and mossy microcosms:

Then after a restorative drink, courtesy of the Battersea Brewery Tap Room, underneath the arches of the railway. we headed through Battersea Park to the station. The Power Station loomed from every angle, and the park had sculpture and palm trees:

Winter Honeysuckles were blooming, each flower extravagantly fragranced, and attracting lots of bumblebee interest, while on the lake Shovelers were getting into the swing, or spin, of Spring, one particular pair spinning round and round, heads down, beak to beak, for minutes on end. Feeding frenzy, or pair bonding…or both?

Next morning dawned crisp and blue, perfect light for a stroll through the grounds of Chiswick House to the station:

Our destination, more reused and recycled infrastructure, the London Wetland Centre at Barnes, a visionary rescaping of the former Barn Elms Reservoirs from water supply to wetland biodiversity and education.

Something for all here, from the captive but entertaining (again including many Spring frolics, especially among the head-tossing Goldeneyes and skittering Smews) …

… to the wild birds, often remarkably tame as well …

… although not always: the Moorhens were going at it with all the ferocity of fighting cocks.

Aside from birds, it was good to find a Cream-streaked Ladybird, Winter Aconites and our first Cherry-plum flower of the season, and Butcher’s-broom, simultaneously flowering and fruiting a year apart.

And natural art, from the depths of winter to the cheering new shoots of the year.