UK Adventure part 3: Otley!

We had originally planned to spend the weekend in London, visiting a few friends and some old haunts. But then we heard that Miles Hunt and Erika Nockalls were playing in a small town in Yorkshire on the Friday night, we decided we should go there and make our way south on Saturday.

Otley is, in a word, lovely. It's a market town that dates back to Saxon times and ... unlike a lot of small towns, doesn't appear to be dying. The thrice-weekly market continues to do well, despite the presence of three national supermarket chains in the town. With a central core that dates mainly from the 18th and 19th centuries, its architecture handsome -- and the surrounding countryside is beautiful, too. And did I mention that Otley is famous for its pubs?

Otley is also known for cycling, having been on the route of the Tour de France in 2014 (which does make me giggle, a little, because those cyclists must have been VERY LOST...). It's also a "Walkers are Welcome" town -- one of 100 in the UK -- and hosts an annual walking festival every summer. Oh, and there's even a nice independent running store there, Yorkshire Runner. Essentially, Otley is heaven.

We dropped off the car at the Black Horse Hotel, a former coaching inn housed in a 17th-century building at the corner of Kirkgate and Westgate, just steps from the market square. With a handsome pub below and spic-and-span rooms upstairs, it was the perfect place to stay.

We went into town for a little walk, mainly to spot the that night's venue. As we walked, we passed the market, the running store, saw flyers for the local bonfire, and saw ALL THE PUBS and decided to stay another night. Yes, it meant changing plans, and a long drive on Sunday, but it seemed to be -- and, indeed, was -- the perfect thing to do. That, my friends, is the power of Otley.

That settled, we went back to exploring the town, poking around in charity shops (there's a CAT charity shop!!!), visiting a few pubs, wandering through the market and the narrow lanes, and falling a little more in love with Otley with every step. Why? I'm not really sure. But here's one reason.

When was asked at the hotel about the bonfire, and whether we could walk there from the hotel, they said, "Oh, yes, it's just down that road past the maypole." So we walked along, spotting a cafe called the Maypole. Okay, that makes sense then. Got it. And then, across the street and a little farther along... there's a maypole in the square. An actual maypole.

This is a replacement maypole -- the previous one was quickly chopped down in 2014, amid concerns that the base was rotting and it was on the route of the Tour de France. Cue public outcry! A replacement pole was made by yacht mast makers in Portsmouth and, luckily, was installed in March 2015 -- in plenty of time for May Day. The pole stands at 75 feet high and is believed to be the tallest permanent maypole in Britain. And, yes, they dance around it.

We had made dinner reservations at Korks. The food was excellent -- I had a fish pie that, if anything, was too rich and too large. What did Wil have? I don't know -- I was seriously obsessed with my dinner.

Miles and Erica were playing in the back room, a good-sized venue with a low stage, a few tables, and a bunch of chairs. When the doors opened, Wil grabbed a table up front while I settled the bill, and then we were joined by Nomis and Liz.

It was nice to see Miles and Erica again -- for the first time in 8 years, I think. The crowd was mainly seated, but we did eventually get up and dance for the last few numbers.

After the show we chatted with old friends, made new friends, visited briefly with Miles and Erica, and closed the venue down. It was a good f*ckin' night, though!

The next morning we had a HUGE breakfast at the hotel -- full English with veggie sausages! -- and then set off on a ramble.

We had picked up this pamphlet the day before -- and decided on "Walk 4", a "strenuous" 6.5-mile walk through fields, then up to the Chevin, along the ridge, and back down through the woods to town.

Given that we struggled, a bit, with our Anglesey ramble ... I was happy to have a more detailed map for this walk. (Note: the picture below is not the map we followed, but it shows the basic route.)

We set off past the maypole, but then quickly turned down some small streets and, suddenly, were in the countryside.

Walk 4 overview map

Things started off well -- we saw ponies (PONIES!), were on obvious paths, and there were plenty of fingerposts.

We traveled alongside fields through autumnal splendor ...

We crossed a field with an old "bull in field" sign ... a slight cause for alarm, but the field looked deserted.

Then we came to another field... with a "bull in field" sign ... and a small gaggle of ... gulp ... bulls.

photo credit: Björn Olsson/Flickr

They seemed to be "teenage" bulls ... sweet shaggy highland cattle teenage bulls. Bulls who, as a group, swiveled their heads around to look at us when we got near the fence. Sure, maybe they were just interested... but ... we didn't want to cross that field.

This was problematic ... if we couldn't cross that field, where would we be able to rejoin the route? We followed the lane next to the field, turning at the top as best we could. And while we could see the path, we were on the other side of a wall... and a large mechanical fence...

I didn't want to give up on our walk so early on ... so, as we stood at a low rock wall, looking at the path running through a farm ... on the other side of the wall... we determined to hop over the wall and hustle through the farmyard. Some quick, quiet walking and we were back on track!

We passed under the old railway line, through more fields, and up a steep climb to the Chevin.

The Chevin Forest Park was particularly pretty -- though as you can see by now the weather had turned, a cold wind had sprung up, and drizzle started. And we weren't even half way done!

The Chevin is the ridge that towers above the town. Turner came up here to draw when he used to visit the town. From the top there are some pretty spectacular views.

As we reached the "top", and a spot called Surprise View, we met this paved path:

Niiiiiiiice.

And then, this: Surprise View!

We took a teensy detour to the Royalty, a handsome old pub at the top of the ridge. I had a half of cider, Wil had a half of Hobgoblin Ale ... "the unofficial beer of Halloween". An excellent mid-ramble break!

Then back into the woods for the trip back to town:

Back in town, and hungry, we tried to decide where to eat. All we knew was that our guilty pleasure, fish and chips, seemed to be what we wanted... and that it was too cold to consider getting a takeaway and sitting outside. We decided upon Maypole Fisheries, a family-run business near, you guessed it, the maypole. They claim to be the best fish and chips in Otley and, though we don't have anything to compare it with, we could happily agree.

We split their "Special" haddock fillet and chips ... and when it arrived, there was almost too much to eat. Thank goodness we didn't attempt the "Monster" ... it's nearly twice as big. Nice chips, really nice batter, and a rainbow of available sauce sachets:

(and, no, I didn't manage to take a picture of the actual food ... when it arrived I was solely focused on putting it in my belly....)

Next up: UK Adventure part 4: Bonfire Night, and A Farewell to Blighty

UK Adventure part 2: Anglesey Excursion

One day we decided to go on a day trip to Anglesey. Our only real plans were to go for a walk along the coast, take a peek at the Menai Bridges, and get some lunch, somewhere.

First stop, of course, was at Llanfair­pwllgwyngyll­gogery­chwyrn­drobwll­llan­tysilio­gogo­goch... Well, sorta. We used Google Maps for directions, which took us down an increasingly narrow set of roads. Now, I remember visiting Llanfair PG with Suz years and years ago -- long before GPS -- and knew we had found it with only tourist signage, so I thought things had gone a bit wrong. But it wasn't until we turned down a dirt track no wider than the car, and I realized it was a long driveway, that we KNEW we were seriously off course.

A slow, grinding, 173-point turn executed in a slightly wider spot, rear proximity alarm shrieking every time I put the car in reverse for an inch or two, lots of cranking the wheel back and forth, and eventually we escaped, even if I felt like that scene in Austin Powers:

But we arrived, bemused to find 6 coaches in the carpark and a huge shop where we dutifully did too much random shopping. Wil did, however, acquire this:

deerstalker FTW!

The name Llanfair­pwllgwyngyll­gogery­chwyrn­drobwll­llan­tysilio­gogo­goch dates from the mid 19th century as a stunt to attract tourists ... and, clearly, judging by the number of visitors on a chilly November morning, it works. 

We went on to the railway platform, more than slightly bemused that one can actually still catch a train here.

Oh, and that's our obligatory #llanfie ...

Tourist obligations satisfied, we headed off to the village of Rhoscolyn for a ramble. We had a pamphlet about walks on Anglesey, and the circular route near the village seemed perfect. I'll cut to the chase here: we had a nice walk, saw some lovely views, but the pamphlet unfortunately lacked a decent map and we clearly got well off track a few times. But who cares -- we still had a nice walk in the countryside!

We started with a visit to the White Eagle Inn, a very handsome gastropub.

We stopped in for a pint... and were seduced by the appetizers. We managed not to also have a sandwich -- which, seeing them served to other diners, was regrettable. Should we ever have the opportunity to return to the area, my plan is to spend a day just eating as much of the menu as I can...

Then we walked up the lane to St. Gwenfaen's church, a 19th-century church incorporating elements of the earlier 15th-century church. But even that church was a replacement:

There has been a church on the site since 630 AD, when it was dedicated to Gwenfaen, daughter of Pawl Hen of Manaw (Isle of Man), who made her cloister here. Legend has it that Gwenfaen, who was renowned for healing mental illness, was chased away from her cell by druids and escaped by climbing the rock stack off Rhoscolyn head. The tide came in and she was carried away by angels, which is how Saints Bay got its name. - stgwenfaen.org

After trying ... and failing ... to locate the correct footpath to take us to the "start" of the loop, we decided to go in the reverse direction, assuming we would be able to spot the church from a distance to come back. (spoiler alert: not exactly...) 

on the first footpath we tried ... a circular route on this little hill next to the church...

Okay, this seems like the right one...

So we walked along some lovely old footpaths until we reached the coast, and admired the views. 

Clearly, however, we had done something else wrong ... the walk was meant to be 4 or 5 miles, and we had been walking nearly two hours over not challenging terrain. It took some twists, turns, and perhaps a teensy bit of trespassing before we found our way...

We then drove to Beaumaris because neither of us had seen the castle. A slightly scary 2-lane road led to the village, but we (and our car) arrived unscathed. We paid a quick visit to the castle, enjoying the empty walls and passages, and admiring the views. (And, of course, the gift shop...)

image Crown Copyright

Beaumaris is a "proper castle" -- with a moat (a MOAT!), inner and outer walls, turrets, multiple defenses, the works. 

Wil had the opportunity to show off his superhuman strength...

... and his mad harping skills ...

... but we had to be careful, because DANGER LURKS EVERYWHERE!

Then back to Penrhyn Bay, this time crossing the lovely old Menai Suspension Bridge, completed by Thomas Telford in 1826. 

image courtesy bbc.co.uk

(Quick aside about Telford -- he also designed the spectacular Pontycsyllte Aqueduct, and the very pretty Conwy Suspension Bridge next to the castle. When the Menai Suspension Bridge was completed, it's 579-foot span was the longest in the word.)

The bridge is quite narrow, and we crept along behind a large coach. I was too white-knuckled to contemplate taking a snap, but I did find two great images others took of the roadway:

"On the Menai Suspension Bridge" image copyright Jeremy Bolwell

"Crossing Into Anglesey" image copyright Eric Jones

You can tell just how crazy narrow these archways are ... I imagine the driver telling everyone to hold their breath as they inched through.

Next up: UK Adventure part 3: Otley!

UK Adventure part 1: operation Golden Surprise

This spring we went on vacation with Wil's folks, Tony and Sue. Over 2½ weeks we visited Walt Disney World, the "other" Birmingham (v. briefly), Tupelo & Graceland, Kennedy Space Center, and the beach.

Sue got to meet Mickey Mouse on her 70th birthday...

Tony got to sing into the same microphone used by Elvis at Sun Studios..

Wil got to touch the moon...

I got to run the Princess Half Marathon...

And we all got to wear Elvis glasses...

      ... mouse ears ...

            ... and watch a spaceship launch into outer space.

During this trip I remembered that Tony and Sue were married in 1966 ... and, because I am Very Good at Math, realized that THIS was their golden wedding anniversary. I mentioned it to Wil, along with "we should probably think about going..." We even asked, in a very feral way, what they were planning for their celebration. But we said nothing more of the idea.

Then this summer I lost my job, and suddenly spending a few grand to see them -- right after spending a good chunk of time with them -- seemed a little imprudent.

And then, in late September, Wil got a message from a mailing list he's on, saying there were currently what were assumed to be "mistake" fans for flights to London from the US. As we sat in bed one morning, Wil took a look. Sure enough, we could get nonstop flights from SEA to LHR for $722. Including taxes. For the TWO of us. Pre-tax? $182 each. With taxes, $361 each. Yep, $722 FOR THE BOTH OF US. One teensy catch ... we would have to fly on the 28th, arriving the afternoon of the 29th, the anniversary itself. But at that price, that still seemed perfect.

We were worried that the airline might wise up and refuse to honor the fare, that they might cancel in the next week. So we decided not to tell anyone for a little while. In that time we hatched an audacious plan: to surprise Tony and Sue by walking in on their celebration dinner.

So we plotted. We did covert research. One moment of panic came when Tony's knee replacement surgery looked as if it was going to be on October 22, which, in Sue's words, was "not the greatest timing for us". I held my breath and forced a smile during the Skype call and said, innocently, "oh, umm, why?" Tony reminded me that it was their 50th wedding anniversary that year (me: frozen forced smile) on the 29th (me: phew!). However, this gave us the chance to pry more specifically into their plans ... and it looked good for us.

Beck and Steve were going on a brief holiday with Steve's family, dropping the kids off at Tony and Sue's for a few days. Then they would fly back into Manchester on the Wednesday, and all stay with Tony and Sue until Sunday, celebrating the anniversary with a dinner out at Top's in Llandudno.  PERFECT.

Sure, there were a few wobbles, like when the day of the surgery shifted a little, and when nephew Joe arrived to join in, which made us worry that they were all going to go back to the midlands. I remained steadfast that we needed to surprise everyone -- so we would just assume that we would be going to Wales. And, on the day, we could check in casually with Beck as we approached the Midlands. As "insurance", we arranged to Skype with everyone in the late evening when they got home from the restaurant ... apparently we were worried that they would go to bed early!

Long flight, little sleep, an hour at immigration ... and a pause in the arrivals hall so I could say, "Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport" ... (wait, doesn't EVERYONE do that???) ... but soon we were headed off in our rental car (love love LOVE Hertz Gold Canopy!) and en route to Wales. A few tense moments as I sang the "we drive on the left here" song getting to the motorway, but otherwise it was pretty smooth sailing.

Still, a 4½ hour drive is rough, so we made a couple of pit stops to keep me alert. With the added stops, the one wrong turn, and random traffic slowdowns, we were still on the road at 9pm -- by which point we thought we would be there.

Wil kept texting Beck, telling her we were running a little late (true!), but that we would be home soon.

At 9:15 we got to the Premier Inn, a mile from the house, checked in and dropped off our stuff. All thoughts of "freshening up" gone, we ran back to the car for the final mile.

We quietly opened the gate and knocked on the door ... seeing someone in silhouette through the rippled glass. Assuming it was William, we put our fingers to our lips in a "shhhh" motion so "he" didn't say anything. But it was Sue, who shrieked. Joe rushed into the hallway to see what was wrong, saw Wil, and burst into tears. And then there was lots of hugging, crying, laughing. I think Wil and I were both giddy with exhaustion and disbelief -- we had actually pulled it off!

We sat up for hours, telling stories, drinking whiskey, and catching up a little. It was amazing to see how grown up Lydia and William have become -- and so great to spend time with Beck and Steve and Joe and the whole family.

(all hail Lydia, queen of the selfie!)

Hours passed, bottles emptied, and eventually Joe, Steve, and Sue walked us back up the hill to our hotel ... I remember this a little bit. But I still woke up with a start in a dark room with no idea just where I was for a moment. This also woke Wil, and we had this conversation:

S: I don't remember getting here.
W: I don't know where we are.
S: Wales.
W: Oh!

The next day was pretty rough, with several of us being a bit the worse for wear. I actually felt pretty good, other than one rogue wave of nausea...

Beck and Sue prepared a perfect, lots-of-nibbles lunch, and we spent a lazy Sunday together. But eventually Beck, Steve, Joe, Lydia, and William all had to head back to the Midlands.

Not long after Wil and I drove back to the hotel to drop the car off, then went for a walk in Llandudno to get a little fresh air and keep ourselves awake until a slightly more reasonable hour before collapsing into bed at the hotel.

We spent a few days with Tony and Sue, often doing our own thing in the daytime and then spending evenings with them, with a late evening wander along the sea to Rhos or Llandudno.

One day we even went to Manchester, visiting the Albert Moore paintings at the art gallery...

     ... going to hear Karl Hyde read from his new book...

          ... going to see DJ Shadow play at the old Granada Studios...

               ... getting nabbed by the dibble...

                    ... oh, wait, no, we were just on an old set from Corrie...

But the highlight of the trip, obviously, was speeding a long night with the whole family -- so great that everyone was there. Oh, and we even took this picture on Sunday before the others left. Genius.

2005:

2016:

Next up: UK Adventure part 2: a day trip to Anglesey

Tanzania Tuesday #21 : Mimi mbio leo! (I ran today!)

A few words, in English and Swahili, about running...

Today's post was going to be about basic greetings in Swahili... but on this momentous day... well... I decided to change topics.

And by "momentous day", of course I mean ... it's the day I decided to start running again!

Since hurting my hip -- too many lunges? Too many squats? Over enthusiastic participation in boot camp??? -- I haven't been able to run. I DNSed one half marathon that I had targeted as a chance to run a new PR. I decided against chasing new states at 4 other races. (Can you IMAGINE???) And I haven't run a step. Not even to catch a bus.

Sure, I've gotten around. There have been stairway walks, Welsh wanders, and Yorkshire rambles (more on those later). But other than the exercises and stretches assigned by my beloved physical therapist, Emily, there's not a lot of movement going on. But thanks to the PT hours ... and, probably, the cortisone shot in my left hip ... I've been feeling a little better. Weaker, sure, but in less pain. And I have been feeling antsy.

Today's weather here in Seattle was glorious -- 68 degrees, bright blue sky, sunny. And I had been inside all morning ... and, well, awake since half past three ... so I decided that today was the day.

I'm a huge fan of the National Health Service's Couch to 5K podcasts -- "Laura" plays upbeat music, offers tips on running and recovery, and tells you when to warm up, run, walk, and cool down (though she says "warm down" which always makes me giggle). Given that I have been hurt and semi-sedentary, they seemed like a good place to restart my running.

Today I ran the first run of the series ... 5 minute warm-up; then 60 seconds of running and 90 seconds of recovery, eight times; and then 5 minutes of "warm down". A grand total of 8 minutes of running ... but 8 minutes more than I have run in more than 3 months. And over the course of the 33 minutes, I slowly traveled 2.36 miles. Better than nothing.

Some relevant vocabulary:

Mimi mbio leo. = I ran today.
mbio = ran
kuendesha or mbio = run or running
kilomita = kilometers
maili = miles
kitanda = couch
Mimi mbio zaidi ya maili mbili leo! = I ran more than two miles today!
kitanda kwa 5K = couch to 5K (ha!)

P.S.: If you'd rather learn "election-related" terms in Swahili, the awesome and clever folks at SwahiliPod101 put one together. Learn how to talk politics in Swahili at SwahiliPod.com. Remember, Kila kura ni muhimu! (Every vote counts!)

Tanzania Tuesday #20

An Introduction to Kiswahili

Kiswahili -- "the language of the Swahili people" -- is one of two official languages in Tanzania. (English is the other one, but spoken by fewer people.) Most Tanzanians speak their mother tongue -- one of some 128 languages spoken in the country -- within their own communities, using Kiswahili for official communication, or to communicate across groups.

According to the official national linguistic policy announced in 1984, Swahili is the language of the social and political sphere as well as primary and adult education, whereas English is the language of secondary education, universities, technology, and higher courts. The government announced in 2015 that it would discontinue the use of English as a language of education as part of an overhaul of the Tanzanian schools system.
- Wikipedia, Languages of Tanzania. Retrieved October 23, 2016.

I wanted to learn at least some basic Kiswahili before going to Africa next year, so I have been attempting to follow a Pimsleur course, albeit with little success. But on my fourth listen to the first lesson, I could almost follow along... The language is so different to anything I've ever heard or attempted to understand, that -- apart from some very random words in "The Lion King" (!!!), I don't know any.

For my Tanzania Tuesday posts in November, I'm going to include some of the very basic words I am learning. I thought this exchange, cribbed from words in my Pimsleur lesson #1, might come in handy. (Who am I kidding? I will NEVER have this conversation...)

Samahani bwana. Unafahamu kiingereza?  (Excuse me, sir. Do you understand English?)

Hapana. Sifahamu kiingereza.   (No. I don't understand English.)

Ninafahamu Kiswahili kidogo. Unafahamu kiswahili?  (I speak a little Kiswahili. Do you understand Kiswahili?)

Ndiyo dada. Wewe ni mmarekani?  (Yes miss. Are you an American?)

Ndiyo bwana.  (Yes sir.)

A note on spelling: I've found multiple spellings of many Kiswahili words... I'm just going to use what seems like the most consistent spelling. And probably get it wrong 50% of the time.

Header image taken from Bongo5.com, from an article advocating for increasing the use of Kiswahili across eastern Africa: http://www.bongo5.com/makala-kiswahili-na-changamoto-za-kujitakia-08-2016/