efog-blog
Recent outings and activities...
What we do - and what we've done...
From local walks in Epping Forest, to longer distance walks in somewhere in Europe, the Epping Forest Outdoor Group tries to cater for what its members want to do.
Whether it is walking in Snaresbrook or Sicily, cycling in Cambridgeshire or Khartoum (not yet!), climbing Pole Hill or Ben Vrackie, playing balloon volleyball on a Thursday, an after-walk meal in London, a Quiz Night or our annual Rodings Rally - we usually find something to do at least once a week.
We have an ongoing programme of events, and these are available here, But what of after a holiday away, or even a day out? If we are lucky, someone will have taken photographs, and albums have been kept by Peter Gamble showing past events from years back. These are often on display at publicity stalls and the like.
But we also have a lot of on-line photos of past events, together with some write-ups, and an easy access to those - to bring back some memories or suggest some future possibilities - is available here!
Outing and events from 2005-2009 - photos
Present Programme
Coming Soon
Paul Ferris, 13th September 2014
Liverpool Weekend - August Bank Holiday, 2014
We had a good Bank Holiday weekend in Liverpool in spite of variable weather and a long coach journey of 7 hours each way (necessitated by the lack of trains due to engineering work).
It was actually more of a ‘cultural’ weekend than a walking one, but we did do a fair bit of walking around the city It was a bit wet on Saturday – the sun would be out and then it would bucket down with rain. So we spent the morning doing ‘inside’ things, wandering round the undercover part of the beautifully restored Albert Dock area, being mesmerized by the stunning WW1 dazzle ship (painted in amazing vibrant geometric shapes – designed to confuse the enemy as to its exact range, speed and even which way it was heading – making it a much less easy target to focus on). We visited the modern art gallery and then went on a Magical Mystery Tour coach trip round the Beatles houses, Penny Lane, Strawberry Fields etc. then ended up in the Cavern –rebuilt since their day, but we saw a couple of enthusiastic Beatles tribute bands there. The weather improved dramatically in the afternoon & we went on a walk around Liverpool visiting the Anglican and Catholic Cathedrals (Paddy’s Wigwam as they call it in Liverpool). There was a high level zip wire overhead along the main shopping mall which provided us with some amusement.
Sunday was much nicer weather & we took a ferry ride across the Mersey and back – very nice. Then a couple of museums – including the large Museum of Liverpool and the Museum of International Slavery. Some of the group did a spot of wandering round shops, some went on a hopper bus around Liverpool whilst others went to see the Mondrian exhibition in the Tate Gallery.
It rained again on Monday, but hey, we were going home! The streets of Liverpool had clumps of mud all over them all the way to the coach station and we saw abandoned muddy wellington boots outside cafes. There were a lot of muddy individuals waiting for the coach back to London who had been at the Greenfields Music Festival, some people were telling us that most of them had abandoned their tents at the festival!
The YHA was brilliantly situated, right near the Albert Dock area and was very comfortable. There were a couple of ‘party groups’ staying there – a group of hen party girls and another group of boys – what is the YHA coming to these days? Actually they were no trouble at all and did not make any noise coming back in the early hours. We had some lovely meals out in the evenings. Altogether a good weekend!Lynne E. 28th August 2014
Exploring a nicer bit of the River Thames
The upper reaches of the River Thames were part of an EFOG walk led by Lynne on Sunday 15th June, round the twin towns of Goring and Streatley, one each side of the river.
We began by crossing to the north bank - the Streatley side - and headed uphill and past the church of St Mary, clearly decorated for a wedding the previous day with a lovely arch of roses around the door. The group headed for the countryside and views across the fields of Berkshire, clearly visible on a beautiful sunny day. At the village of Aldeburgh we stopped at another Church of St. Mary, this one the home of the effigies of nine members of the de la Beche family. These were knights in the late 13th and early 14th century, variously Constable of the Tower of London, guardian of King Edward 111's eldest son and Sheriff of Berkshire and Oxfordshire. This latter gentleman - Sir Philip - was rumoured to have been seven feet tall !
From there the walking became a little more interesting as the paths clearly required some attention! We hacked our way through the undergrowth towards St Clement's Church in Ashampstead, which is home to some rare medieval wall paintings uncovered in 1895 by the church vicar. Outside there was a working water pump that some of the members checked for authenticity.
Our journey took us through fields of poppies and through an entire field of beautiful thistles, with a large population of bees that tested the resolve of some of us! Photo opportunities and breathers coincided a number of times on the way up! Following some advice from a loca dog walker, a slightly unassuming path opened out into a field of cows and a spectacular view of Streatley and Goring that the locals like to share. We headed down the edge of the field on National Trust land, managed into a beautiful wildflower meadow. We were mindful of the mum cows with calves here just before making our way back through the towns to the station - after a lovely day in the countryside.
Sue C. 17th July 2014
A visit to the Treshnish Isles and the Island of Staffa
As part of the EFOG's group visit to the Isle of Mull, where we stayed at Tobermory Youth Hostel, a sub-group elected to do a day-trip from Tobermory to the Treshnish Isles and the island of Staffa. This was on 27th May 2014. Those that went on the trip were Fozie, Jinan, Pam, Fritz, Fred and Paul
The Treshnish Isles are a group of small islands off the west coast of Mull – which is itself west of Oban in Argyll. They are owned by the Hebridean Trust, and are designated a Site of Special Scientific Interest. (SSSI). Although uninhabited now, there are remains of chapels, castles and homesteads – proof that this remote and exposed archipelago was once home to a vibrant community.
Lunga
There are apparently no good landing places on the Treshnish Isles, and proof of this was when the “Staffa Tours” boat that had carried us from Mull reached the island that we were to land on: Lunga.
There are two or three floating pontoons permanently moored adjacent to Lunga. Lunga, by the way, is Viking for “Long Island”. The tour-boats draw up alongside one of these and move it towards the island, so that passengers can step off the boat and onto the multitude of different-sized rounded boulders that constitute the “beach”. Now these boulders really are treacherous, and there is a lot of balancing, mutual hand-holding, unintended sitting-down and trepidation before safe and lovely land is reached.
And it really is lovely; short rabbit-cropped grassland with ferns and wild flowers of all sorts including thousands of bluebells. The path works upwards to the flat, grassy top of a low cliff, and below, the rocks and islands of the archipelago are ranged around, with the tour-boats and visiting yachts moored off-shore, In the distance the Small Isles of Rhum, Eigg, Canna and Muck are visible, and beyond them Skye. Nearer is Mull, and in the distance the mainland of Scotland itself, all visible on a beautiful turquoise-sea, blue-sky, fluffy-white-cloud day.
We had been warned about the puffins. The puffins were there on the edge of the cliff with their rabbit-stolen burrows. They were waiting for us, seemingly as curious about us as we were about them, but happy to see us because we keep the predators away. And predators there are: Golden Eagles, Sea Eagles, Buzzards, Hooded Crows, Bonxies, probably.
Loads of photos, of course, and a whole island to see, the heights still enticingly above us – for those of us who like to get to the top. But the weather was too warm, the grass too dry and inviting, and the puffins too intent on us. So we sat down, then laid down, and either closed our eyes against the sunshine or lay with our feet against a puffin and looked out to sea.
Suddenly – a flurry, and all the birds had either disappeared underground or gone over the edge out to sea. I am familiar with this sort of scenario and looked immediately around for the attacker. From behind, from over the heights of Lunga, a big black bird came winging towards us. I believe it was a Hoodie, one of the Hooded Crows which are actually the same species as our familiar all-black Carrion Crows. These hoodies, though, have aspects of grey on them which give them their name.
The attack being unsuccessful, gradually the Puffins returned to do their thing or stand and look at us. (Narrow-boaters would call them Gongoozlers). I made a fast excursion further along and up Lunga, but we needed to return to the boat, to get across the boulder-beach and head for Staffa.
Staffa
Staffa may well be – after Skye – the most famous of the Scottish islands. Even though the name of Staffa isn't very well known, surely Fingal's Cave is? After Mendelssohn visited the island in 1829 he included “Fingal's Cave” in his Hebrides Overture.
Many years ago I went to the Giant's Causeway in County Antrim, and I have to say I was slightly disappointed. The basalt columns which comprise the Causeway in Northern Ireland and the Island of Staffa in the west of Scotland are similar geological formations. But Staffa is not disappointing; as the island came into view the grandeur of the columns was plain to see. It has an imposing outline, and – drawing closer – the boat hove to and manouvered almost in the mouth of Fingal's Cave for photo opportunities
I was not surprised that the Overture was played over the boat's speaker system for a moment – that was almost inevitable and humorous – but I was disappointed that already on the island and making their way in and out of the cave was a string of people. We were not the only visitors. Bloody tourists! The boat moored alongside a concrete causeway for easy access to the island, and its tourist cargo disembarked.
Unlike Lunga, walking on Staffa – at least at the base of the basalt-columned cliffs – is easy. The hexagonal columns – at this level worn smooth by the sea – are mostly easy to walk upon, like big, flat stepping stones or steps. Hard by the cliff-side, a metal handrail has been set into the rock so as to give grip, safety and comfort to those who may be less happy on the stepping stones, or indeed when the weather is less equable than on this day. So, there tends to be a line of people either going to or returning from the cave and clinging onto the hand-rail. Others, nimbler or younger, don't bother with that.
At the very mouth of the cave the way narrows to a ledge, and it is necessary to wait as if at a “Single Track Road with Passing Places” as others come out before you go in. The cave is huge, a grand opening cut by the sea – so large that artificial light is not required because of the daylight through the entrance. The ledge continues narrow, with the columns towering above and the sea rolling in below. The light and the sounds are wonderful; no wonder that it is called in Gaelic as An Uamh Binn or “The Cave of Melody”. Eventually, a rope is reached, stretched across the ledge/path to indicate a less-safe beyond. But this was certainly no barrier, as some were already beyond and I decided to join them.
When I turned round to look back towards the entrance, there was Pam, also getting as much from Fingal as any giant may be prepared to give. The cave was emptying of people as they made their way back to their boats, and we enjoyed the sights, sounds and atmosphere without other people's hassle and chatter. There was one last possibility: my earlier disappointment at all the tourists had been abated by the magnificense of the setting. I suggested to Pam that she went ahead, out of the cave, and as she disappeared I stopped. I stopped and I stood and I looked and I listened – and I felt. I was in Fingal's Cave - all by myself.
I liked the Tresnish Islands, and the visit to Staffa and Fingal's Cave is an experience that will remain with me for ever.
Paul Ferris, 16th July 2014
Staffa and Beyond
A month and two days since casting myself over the edge of a concrete causeway on the Hebridean island of Staffa, to land two feet down on barnacle-covered concrete, I have arrived home. From here I shall need to administer my life and to try to judge what adjustments may be required to my life-style.
For three of those four weeks I was almost totally dependent on assistance given by others; of course by nursing and ancilliary staff, but also by friends. I have never been dependent in such ways since I was a baby, and it was a depressing and embarrasing time.
Only on one occasion during that time did I reach the star-stained heights; that was when eat my henge!
The other side though - and not just once - was going to that place where the iguanas live. in fact not only did I reach iguana-cave, but I went to that part of the cave where even the iguanas don't go. I have been there before, many years ago - or somewhere similar - and it's difficult to see an exit-sign. In fact, if there is an exit-sign- and it's not guaranteed - it will probably be illuminated by people, and they are certainly not guaranteed.
So it was that my high-dependency hospital room/prison cell/torture chamber became a haven of light when I had a visit from a friend, or from my sister.
During the first week, in the little Mull and Iona Community Hospital, there were dark days even while looking at red deer grazing on the mountainside from my hospital bed, particularly after the EFOG group left on Friday. There was an ink-black, coal-black, black, black, black day in Maple Ward in Newham when I was told the extent of the damage needing to be repaired, that it would be eight days before parts and time could be arranged for an operation, and that my life might be changed a bit afterwards. That happened to be one of a few days whilst I was back "home" (at least in Newham) when I had not a single visitor; that's right - from my vast range of friends, not a single visitor! People have their own illnesses, cares and lives these days, and there it is. Just as I write these words the hospital chaplain has come in. He is a High-Church of England Priest, with down-to-the-ankle cassock, cross on a chain, sympathetic smile and hands crossed reverential-style at his stomach. He tells me that he has been praying for me. That helps, I suppose - but what more significantly and practically has helped are those of my friends that have been able to visit from time to time, and those who have sent messages by text. Thanks - sincerely thanks - to all.
Now to the future. My Consultant - a walker and outdoor enthusiast himself, as it happens - tells me that after a VERY major operation lasting nearly five hours, I have made remarkable progress. That is because I am fit, you see - and because I don't want to go to Iguana-hell. I suspect the doctor's crack about sending him a photo of me at the top of Snowdon may never be fulfilled; that may be an ambition too far. But the Beckton Alps is a definite possibility.
Walking in town, visiting Wanstead Park, walking along the green rides of Epping Forest, these I shall probably be able to manage. But Essex mud and the curse-of-mankind stiles, they might defeat me after all. Taking up Molly-dancing, like I should have, is probably not a good idea. Will I move, marry, settle down? Well it could happen, but there are years of past experience there in which those haven't happened...
I am home, and I have to exercise and practise a variety of what should be straightforward procedures. I have a lot of work to do towards an indeterminate future.
Paul Ferris 29th June 2014