Suburban Lush

Glencoe

You may have noticed over there on the left that I've been reading "Glencoe" by John Prebble. This was not just for fun - it was research. You see, I had a trip to Glencoe planned, and being the immense nerd that I am I was finding out about the famous massacre at Glencoe before visiting the place itself.

This was yet another hiking weekend - the Scottish Highlands are a beautiful place to walk, full of gorgeous valleys and high hills. And the leader of the weekend had chosen Glencoe, the most famous of the Highland valleys. Not only stunning gorgeous but with an interesting (and bloody) history.

The story of the massacre is one of politics and betrayal and well worth reading but instead of telling you about it I am simply going to rabbit on about the gorgeous hiking we did, with gorgeous sunny (very un-Scottish) weather and pints at the pub.

We started off early on Friday morning, catching the ferry from Larne to Troon and driving up to Arrochar. We stopped there for our first walk - up Ben Arthur, also known as The Cobbler. The walk starts with steep switchbacks, a shock to the legs after a morning of travelling. The path eventually flattens out somewhat, giving you a chance to catch your breath and enjoy the view back down Loch Long and up towards the three summits of The Cobbler. The final ascent is steep and long, and we had amazing views from the summit. Some were even brave enough to tackle the famous Eye and reach the true summit.

Then it was back down to the cars for the final leg of the journey to our hostel Kinlochlevin. 

We arrived for a quick unpack and shower before heading out for a pint. Most had dinner at the hostel, but a few of us headed to the local Tailrace inn for our meal. A delicious steak and ale pie and a pint of local beer hit the spot before meeting up with the others for a few pints at the hostel bar. 

The plan for Saturday was to climb Bidean Nam Bian, the highest mountain in Argyll and Glencoe at 3773ft. This was a hard walk, but immensely rewarding. Steep uphill climbs, almost vertical scree slopes, over 9 hours long, completely and utterly breathtaking views, and an incredible sense of satisfaction. Again starting with immediate uphill, the track eventually flattened out in The Lost Valley - unseen from below, this was the place where the clansmen of Glencoe hid rustled cattle from their rightful owners. After the respite of The Lost Valley, it was a steep climb and scramble to the top. No point rushing - take plenty of time to turn around and enjoy the views spreading out below as you ascend. The day was hot and we took our lunch at the saddle before tackling the final climb along a ridge to the summit of Bidean Nam Bian. Then down and around, scrambling desperately down an almost vertical scree slope, some on their feet and some on their bottoms before rejoining the well-defined path. Constant descent, most of it excruciatingly steep, reminded us how far we'd climbed.

We didn't get back to the hostel until quite late. Once showered we ordered dinner. I couldn't resist - haggis, neeps and tatties with whisky cream sauce. Surprisingly delicious!

Then, after a few pints, we headed to a pub to check out a local band and have a few more drinks.

We'd booked the ferry back to Belfast for late on Sunday, which meant we had all day to amuse ourselves. Rather than go for another walk we decided on a leisurely day out: visiting the Scottish National Trust information centre at Glencoe where they have an excellent exhibition on the history of the area, and popping in to little towns to check out the local sights.

It was a fantastic weekend, and I'm already itching to return.

Walking in the Lake District

I was woken by my alarm at a horrendous time on the morning of the Royal wedding. Not for wedding festivities, but to be picked up by a friend for the 6 1/2 hour journey to the Lake District. A group of us from the walking club were going, and we were due to meet on the ferry at 6am - far to early for me. I'd been nervous about the crossing, but fortunately it was calm and we made it from Belfast to Stranraerwithout incident.

Even Dianne and I survived and didn't have to make use of our gifts:

 

 

Then it was the long car journey from Stranraer to Keswick. There were 29 of us going, and approximately 4 people per car. We had CB radios - meet team "rubber duckie"

 

 

Team Rubber Duckie had prepared well

  
- magazines, chips, chocolate, candy, coke - and before too long we were all in sugar induced high spirits.

We arrived in Keswick mid afternoon and, with some difficulty, found our hostel.

We unpacked, made the beds, and then made our plans for the afternoon. Some of the group were keen to hike that afternoon, but being ladies of leisure (and knowing there'd be plenty more hiking that weekend) a few of us headed into Keswick itself for a look around. A lovely little town, filled with hiking shops (in other words, perfect for us!) Keswick was having a street party to celebrate the wedding. We joined in by having a Pimms before heading to the nearest cafe for tea and scones. Delicious!

Dinner that evening was at a pub in Keswick (smoked fish cakes with wedges for me!) after a couple of pints in the sunshine. Then back to the hostel and into bed for an early night.

We were up bright and early on Saturday morning, pleased to discover that not only was the sun shining, but that the hostel was going to provide us with a full cooked breakfast. We gorged ourselves, sorted out lunch, packed up our things and headed out to climb the highest mountain in England: Scafell Pike. The walk up Scafell pike is a long and constant ascent, but the path is well marked so it was possible for us to walk at our own pace. A few girls and I (dubbed C-team) went with the slow-and-steady method, pacing ourselves, taking many 30 second mini breaks, but not stopping for any real lenth of time. On and on we walked, up hill and over boulders. The first glimpse of the summit spurned us on and, after the final scramble, we reached the summit. The wind was blowing hard and we took a quick picture on the very top and then stopped to look around for the others in our group. Suddenly it dawned on us: we were the first to the top! Delighted, we celebrated by finding a sheltered spot and having some much deserved lunch while we waited for the rest of our group.

It was rather cold up at the summit so before too long we started back down, a few of us going ahead. We began by going back the way we came for a bit, and then turned off for a different (and longer) route which took us past some gorgeous lakes before rejoining the original path not far from thecarpark. As we were the first ones to start back we were also the first ones to arrive at the car and, inevitably, the first ones to arrive at the pub. We sat on the grass outside, ordered drinks (pints of cider with a dash of blackcurrant syrup - delicious!), waited for the others and enjoyed the sunshine. Before long we were all there, and enjoying a few hard-earned drinks. Then it was back to the hostel for dinner (local sausages and mashed potatoes - yummy!). Not long after eating we were back at the pub, where we stayed until closing time.

 
Sunday morning started off slowly as many of the group nursed hangovers. A fried breakfast put most of us right again, and we were off for yet another walk: Helvellyn. This is one of the most popular routes in the Lakes. We drove from the hostel to the village of Glenridding where we parked our cars. And then it was up, up, up. We stopped for elevenses at around 1:30, before carrying on along Striding Edge to the summit. Striding Edge is a high and sharp ridge path, not for the faint-hearted, but loads of fun. The wind at the summit was gale-force, but we stopped for a quick lunch anyway before the scramble down and along Swirral Edge. 

Sunday night was quiet, with dinner at the pub (whole locally caught trout with chips) and a couple of pints before an early bedtime. And then it was Monday. We spent the morning in Keswick before starting the long journey home.

It was a fantastic weekend: great weather, great walks, great friends, great craic.

 

 

Change

Well, that was a long silence, wasn't it? My life has been full of changes recently, but it's been good. I moved back to Belfast, and back in with John. Finished up my university work. Started working. Moved house. And the reason it has taken me so long to post again? Computer crisis. My laptop broke just before leaving NZ. I finished of my directed study with a little netbook, which I did not love. The netbook died and, jobless, I was unable to buy a new laptop. John has finally managed to convince someone to lend me a laptop for a month, and hopefully I'll be in a position to buy one of my own before too long.

So yeah, I'm back in Belfast. And it is very nice. I won't bore you with soppy stories of being reunited with John, save to say we started off with a lovely week in Scotland (Glasgow, with trips to Edinburgh and the isle of Aran) before catching the ferry over to Belfast. Then it was all go, catching up with friends and finishing off my schoolwork. I'd managed to convince my supervisor that I should write up my dissertation from Belfast, so my first month back saw me working hard. Then, schoolwork done, it was a matter of finding a job. I'd been told of the dire job situation in Belfast, and I was prepared to have to wait quite a while to find work. However, I was incredibly lucky and found a job the first day I applied. I'm working as a temp in a lawfirm, and my plan is to do some volunteering for organisations which support immigrants, asylum seekers and refugees and hopefully get a 'real' job through that. In the meantime, I'm reading plenty of anthropological texts and going to a few seminars to keep my brain turning over.

Just as I started my new job, John and I moved house. We are living in a lovely little terraced house, and at the moment it is just the two of us. Bliss! We may get a flatmate in for a bit so that we can save some money, but the long-term plan is for us to live without flatmates. Needless to say I am delighted.

In a way being back is like I've never left. I've re-joined my hiking group (and am even on the committee) and slotted back in with friends. But at the same time things are different - I have more sense of direction, and am not stuck in a job I hate. I feel more like my personality is shining though, and I have great hopes and plans for the future.

It's good to be back!

 

Rinse and Repeat

I'm packing up. Again. Every time I do this I swear it will be the last, all the while knowing it definitely won't be.

When I left New Zealand 3 years ago, my parents allowed me to store 1(one!!) box of things at their place. I got around this by "donating" a whole bunch of stuff I "thought they'd use" into their kitchen cabinets. Still, most things were sorted and thrown away, and I took only a single 20kg bag to Northern Ireland with me. The same thing when I left Northern Ireland early last year. I didn't know what the future held, and so sorted all my stuff, threw it away, donated it, gave it to friends, and moved back to New Zealand with a single bag of worldly belongings. And now I'm doing it again.

The silver lining is that, because I have done this so many times and always know I'm going to do it again, I don't accumulate much stuff. When I moved back here I was lent household items by kind friends, so at the moment I am trying to sort out what belongs to whom. Plus I'm supposed be getting more study done, and catching up with friends "one last time". It is all a bit overwhelming, but worth it in the end.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

It has been so long since my last update that I can't even remember when it was (yes, I could check the archives, but I'm lazy) and I'm sorry about that - I've missed you! But now it is 2011, and in just a few weeks I leave the sunny shores of New Zealand for the rainy shores of Northern Ireland. I'm looking forward to it.

The last few weeks have been family-filled, with 9 days spent in Brisbane with my parents and my sister Wombat's family. The day before I arrived, and just prior to Christmas, they welcomed a little girl into the world, the lovely, darling Nipper. The first new-born baby I have ever seen, and certainly the first baby I have ever held. I was nervous the first few times (so small!! so delicate!!!) but soon got comfortable enough to take her off Wombat's hands at every opportunity.

The 7 of us (Wombat, her husband Skippy, Munchkin, Nipper, my parents and I) celebrated Christmas, Aussie style. No, we didn't head to the beach (the weather wasn't great) but we had a lovely Christmas tree

and the most amazing Christmas dinner (courtesy of Skippy) while sitting by the pool, diving in whenever we got too hot.

It was divine.

Our days in Brisbane were spent relaxing with family, drinking beer, wine and champagne, and generally hanging out. One afternoon, leaving the kids with their grandparents, Wombat, Skippy and I headed out to see the latest Harry Potter film. When it wasn't raining there were walks on the beach, and Skippy even took my Dad, Munchkin and I out on the boat for a bit of water-skiing early one morning. 

Then it was back to New Zealand for New Years. I had no real plans for New Years Eve, but the afternoon was sunny and a couple of my friends were keen to join me pool-side at my parents place. We sat by the pool, swam and drank champagne.

We had dinner and martinis.

And we rang in the new year, in pool, with a glass of bubbles in hand.

I hope you all had as wonderful a Christmas and New Years as I did, and thanks for sticking around for the few and far between posts of 2010. Here's to more active blogging in 2011!

xoxoxoxoxo SL

Windy Wellington

I flew to Wellington on the weekend to catch up with Percy and her husband, and we had an action-packed weekend (sort of) which included:

• Cocktail party
• Horseriding
• Watching Castle and napping
• Shopping
• Baking
• Yum cha

It was loads of fun. I'd tell you more, but it was probably the last time I'll see Percy until she comes to visit me overseas, and it makes me too sad to think about it.

Birthdays, Brisbane and Babies

"I just spent 5 lovely days staying with my sister and her family (I'll tell you all about it and put up some photos later in the week) " Hahahahah! I hope you don't expect me to stick to my promises! If so, get used to disappointment.

Anyway, I did have a lovely time staying with Skippy:

Wombat:

and Munchkin:

We did . . . not much. Lovely relaxed family stuff. It was Wombat's birthday on the Monday, so on the Sunday we had a bunch of her friends over for a birthday brunch. I made cinnamon buns and they were awesome:

On the Monday Skippy headed to work, Munchkin to daycare, and Wombat and I went for a girls' day out. Shopping. In Brisbane. It was fun, although it was also a bit of a tour of Brizzy's public bathrooms because someone was busy pressing on someone else's bladder

(don't worry, I wasn't involved in any of those actions).

We had icecream cake that night. This photo doesn't even begin to show how thrilled Munchkin was about it.

He'd split the beans the day before, unable to contain his excitement and announcing "Mommy, it's your birthday downstairs . . . and it's chocolate!"

Other than that it was laid-back picnics on the beach,

trips to the playground,

and baking bread

in the new

bread machine

I can't wait to go back in December!

 

Dreams

Oh how I wish I was still waking up to this:

 

And drinking some of these:

 

While enjoying this view:

Anyone want to send me on another tropical holiday? Please??

Happiness Is A Beach Holiday

There are some people who simply improve the quality of your life. They do the right things, say the right things, they make you laugh and make you want to be a better person. I am not one of these people - I'm pretty much guaranteed to say and do the wrong thing in any situation - but I'm blessed to have several of them in my life.

Percy and I have known each other since we were 16. She jokes that the first time we met I was extremely drunk, spent ages telling her I was a good girl and didn't usually get this drunk, and then completely messed up the actions to YMCA. She decided on the spot that I was someone she wanted around. Those who know me well will realise that 1) this story is not a joke, but totally believable and 2) I'm not a good girl and frequently get so drunk that I can't remember the actions to simple songs. Especially if they involve spelling.

Our friendship ran from there. We've had joint birthday parties, despite the fact that our birthdays are two and a half months apart. She visited me when I lived in Vancouver and I visited her when she lived in London. She is the only person with whom I have ever had an "our song", and in fact we have several. We've sat on the   floor drinking Bloody Marys and eating Oreos because we craved both, and we happily share Butter Lover's microwave popcorn and chocolate milk as a hangover cure. We can sit in a room together, reading books and not talking, and simply enjoy each other's company. She introduced me to Arrested Development and for that alone I'll love her forever.

She is smart, sassy and gorgeously beautiful (I'm jealous of her fantastic legs). And she got married last week.

For me, this year was supposed to be a year without holidays. Yes, I plan to visit my sister at some stage, but this year is for focusing on study. So when I got a call from Percy, announcing that she was getting married (yay!), that she wanted me to be her bridesmaid (extra yay!) AND that she was planning a wedding in the Cook Islands (triple yay!) I couldn't have been more pleased. I mean seriously, how lovely for my best friend to arrange a holiday that I absolutely HAD to go on. Ok yes, I know this wasn't all about me, but indulge me, please.

Anyway, Percy's husband Teddy is a lovely guy, and they are a perfect match. The wedding itself was a small affair, simple, beautiful, and on the beach. The bride looked gorgeous and, standing there watching the ceremony, I was touched by the thought that someone who makes my life so much brighter has found someone of her own to light up hers.

So Percy and Teddy: I wish you all the happiness in the world. I am so blessed to be part of your lives.

Love, Pickle.

Europe Part 2 - Innsbruck

From the South of France I took the train to Innsbruck via Lyon, Mulhouse and Zurich. My original plan had been to catch the lunchtime train out of Toulouse, however this didn't work out as planned and instead I caught the night train, paying a little extra for a couchette. A couchette is a narrow cot. There are 6 cots per cabin, stacked 3 high like bunkbeds. I was to discover on my travels that the bedding provided was different everywhere: sometimes two sheets and a blanket, sometimes a blanket and a sheet sewn into something rather like a sleeping bag and sometimes, as in this case, a disposable sleeping bag. But not only that, on this train we were provided with a 'comfort pack' complete with earplugs, tissues, moist towelette and a bottle of water. And even a mint on the pillow. I didn't sleep much, concerned about what would happen if you missed your stop. I needn't have worried - they come and wake you up 15 minutes before arrival.

The night train took me as far as Lyon, and I carried on the rest of my journey in daylight. It was a stunning ride, right through the Swiss Alpes and in to Austria. Innsbruck is a lovely Austrian city surrounded by mountains. It's architecture is very Germanic looking, and the old town is a rabbit warren of streets.

Check it out:

      

The highlights: 

• catching the cable car from the centre of town to the top of the mountain;
• a lunch of traditional dish of dumplings covered with melted mountain cheeses and onion washed down with local beer;
• apple strudel and thick rich hot chocolate in a little cafe.