efog-blog
Recent outings and activities...
Windy Weymouth Weekend
A windy Weymouth weekend describes the overwhelming weather condition that accompanied twenty-seven EFOG members over the Easter weekend.
Whilst the larger number travelled to Weymouth by train, I elected to join Louise, Pam, Fritz and Ian, who was driving. We left Wanstead at 6.30am, and had an easy journey to Weymouth with relatively little traffic on the roads. The roads we used through Hampshire and into Dorset took us through some lovely countryside, a few easy villages, and with great views of the magnificent Salisbury Cathedral and equally impressive Maiden Castle.
Shearing's Royal Hotel at Weymouth was reached by the five of us quite a while before other Group members began arriving, but getting out of the car on the sea-front prior to booking-in gave us an instant foretaste of the wind and wind-chill that was to stay with us all of our stay. There was sand blowing down the High Street and just about every other street, and we were soon tooth-crunching on it, too.
Saturday morning was bright – and windy, and chilly. We split into two main groups for our walking day, with Ken leading a walk of something like 9 miles, I believe, starting and finishing at Abbotsbury. I led an alternative shorter walk from Dorchester, which proved to be a nice-enough town although we didn't look around for too long. As we walked out of town, we visited the Neolithic henge and later Roman amphitheater of Maumbury Rings, which I thought would make a nice precursor of what was to come. At the edge of the town, a children's playground proved irresistible, and we had fun on swings, slides, a trampoline and a zip-wire.
The landscape opened out to rolling chalky countryside with the horizon ahead dominated by Maiden Castle - an Iron Age Hill Fort and the largest in Britain. We gained the top of the hill-fort then made our way back down to gain a footpath leading towards the west end of Dorchester. Sheep, cattle, skylarks and wheaters were all commented on during our walk along an easy-enough path. This eventually set us near to a roundabout on the busy A35; a footpath shown on my O.S. Map was not only non-visible on the ground, but would have entailed crossing the by-pass. Luckily(!) there was a brand new gravelled track leading in the direction we needed to go. A temporary fence which had presumably closed it during construction had been trodden down, which left the path open for us to follow. It led us to a farm track, which fortuitously passed underneath the A35. Chatting merrily, we walked up the track... to be met by a padlocked, barbed gate. A few feet away was a path leading between the houses to a Dorchester suburban road, but the padlocks and barbs were something of a deterrent. Somewhat reluctantly, we turned back to take the farm-track leading in the opposite direction conveniently to the access road we'd used to get to Maiden Castle. At the junction of our farm track and the road we desired was a locked, barbed gate! It took a bit of limbo-ing for each of us to get under the gate, but we did so, had a lunch-stop at a real caff (a very real caff!) in a Dorchester car-park/bus station, then caught the bus back to Weymouth. This was a 6.5 mile walk for those who'd preferred the shorter option: Fozi, Gill Light, Tina, Fred and myself.
Portland Bill is a bit of a strange place with something of the feel of a remote part of Britain. The villages are perhaps slightly down-at-heel, and much of the architecture a mix of military and prison. It's one of the few parts of Dorset that has much industry, and this of course is the quarrying of Portland Stone. Our route followed the SW Coastal Path, so of course we were well accompanied by winds and wind chill.
Monday morning dawned not with the wind and sunshine as the previous days, but with wind and drear cloud. After breakfast Louise, Pam, Fritz, Ian and myself set off for home, choosing the route we'd travelled down on for our return journey. We didn't take the prescribed M25 route, and – considering the Easter Monday – had an easy journey back to Wanstead.
Paul Ferris, 2nd April 2013
for an alternative view of this trip - click here
Two Essex Walks: Arkesden and Sewardstone - Saturday 22nd March 2013
Two EFOG walks were undertaken in the latter part of winter and early spring. The first - on Saturday 2nd March - was led by Ian and consisted of a 5 mile-plus walk starting from the village of Arkesden in North-West Essex. It was a fairly bright and very still day, and for most of the walk the conditions underfoot were good. There were snowdrops on the roadside banks, winter aconites in gardens, and walking an easy path across a ploughed field the group were treated to the sight and song of a skylark which flew up ahead of us.
However, between the estate of Wood Hall and the village of Stickling we made an extremely muddy and wet way along a narrow lane. The O.S. map doesn't show a stream here, but we certainly seemed to be walking in one for much of the way.
Arkesden is a pretty village with a variety of houses. Many of these are thatched and indeed there are two thatching companies based in this village alone. The stream of Wicken Water runs alongside the road, and the houses beyond the stream are all accessed by their own little road bridges.
The 'Axe and Compass' is a thatched pub, and the landlord had been warned of our arrival. Out figure of eight walk had taken us through Clavering, where we had a lunch stop in the church-yard, and on our return to Arkesden we had meals in the pub - and good they were, too.Myself and two non-EFOG members - Jenny and Garry - afterwards had a look around the village. We took a look at a Royal Mail postbox opposite a real red telephone box across the stream from the main road and found that although it is a real telephone box, there is no 'phone. Instead there is a library of books from which one is able to borrow or indeed leave for others. From the green fronting the village church, which is on an almost hill-top position, the view down to the cross-roads is reminiscent of Finchingfield. I suggested that if the villagers were to restrict the stream to create a pond and establish a few tea-shoppes, then Finchingfield would have a run for its money, but as Arkesden must be one of the prettiest villages in Essex, it probably already does.
A week before, on Saturday 23rd February, Ken Kennedy had led us on a 5 mile walk starting and finishing at the car park on Chingford Plain. We walked via Yates Meadow and Gilwell Park towards Lippits Hill, and it was there that we encountered the worst mud-conditions that I have experienced in many years. The footpath between the police establishment and the golf course was deep and wet mud. Now admittedly I usually use walking-shoes rather than boots, but rarely do I get wet feet or muddy socks. In this instance I got both, and many if not all of us resorted to climbing through the wire fence to walk on the golf course. This isn't something I'd normally condone, but the footpath was just about impassable. We stopped at The Owl P.H. for a snack, although most of us didn't go inside because of our muddy feet. We were thus quite cold by the time we set off again, there being quite a frost still on the ground in some places.
Our walk took us then into Epping Forest, where we walked mostly along main rides back to Chingford Plain and the car park.
Paul Ferris, 24th March 2013 (Above two pictures by Sue Ullesperger)
Words and Music Evening, March 21st
Pam's evening of words and music on Thursday 21st seemed to me to be a successful one, and an enjoyable one.
It's not an easy thing to get together something like this, and I know Pam put a lot of effort into choosing poetry and words, as well as music, to include and especially trying to co-ordinate what other people wanted to include.
So – when we eventually got settled down (!) - we listened to the Spring bit of Vivaldi's Four Seasons, and then threw me straight into the words bit with a recitation of the sort of spring that happens in January.
Pam had given out a number of short quotations to people who would be prepared to read them – and I realised as the evening went on that she'd chosen quite carefully who read what. Chris read from Pablo Neruda: “You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming”; this took me instantly to my garden where the flowers have – in the last few days – not been cut but have been trashed by the neighbour's fence renewal process. The weather is hardly Spring-like – and my garden certainly won't be a spring one until at least next year.
Depressing as that thought was, 'When we Were Very Young' provided the antidote: “She turned to the sunlight / And shook her yellow head / And Whispered to her neighbour / Winter is dead”. What should I whisper to my neighbour?
Ian had brought with him a big book of verse, and pretended to read from it. I know he was pretending, because his poem 'Spring' didn't rhyme: “Boinggg”.
Cliff's quotation also gave rise to lightness (with the coming of the longer days?) “The first day of spring was once atime for taking young virgins into the fields... to set an example for nature to follow. Now we just set the clocks an hour ahead and change the oil in the crankcase.”
We'd put up with 8 minutes of a piece of music I'd produced (part of an album, by the way “The End of the Unicorns” or “Endings and Beginnings” - not available on any label!). This piece included a selection of bird-sounds all of which might be encountered on a spring day in Wanstead Park. We now listened again, with an emphasis on trying to identify the bird-sounds. (not necessarily songs). So we ended an entertaining evening with a quiz/competition, and I was rather surprised just how well the ad-hoc teams did in their identification processes.
As usual, the winning team had the goodness to share out their prize, and many of us ended up scoffing that other sign of spring – Easter Eggs.
You may like to have a look at Pam's own website of Poetry, Stories and other Writing; it is available here.
Thanks, Pam.
Paul Ferris 22 March 2013
Dispatches from the Front from a newcomer.
Feeling positively heroic and dripping with martyrdom, I agreed to man (woman?) a Rodings Rally checkpoint last November. I was sharing the tent/checkpoint with Ken.
My assumptions were that I would be cold, damp, hungry and lacking sleep; the reality was that I was nice and cosy. I'd brought three sleep mats with me and feeling something like the Princess and the Pea - and full of food - had a good 5 hours sleep (who needs more?) between 3.00 and 8.00am
Ken is a nice comfortable person to be with. I can recommend him. It was actually very exciting - like a return to childhood - the hide and seek days, lying low in the tent, being aware of the sweep of torch-beams and the snap of twigs underfoot as teams tried to find us. Our last teams came through about 3.00 then we drifted off to sleep, waking at 8.00 to a brilliant frosty morning. What a delight that was, and were it not for R.R, an experience I would never have had.
To High Beech Village Hall for breakfast. “What would you like for breakfast?” I was asked. “Everything of course”. Well, what else would one reply after a hard night stretched out in a sleeping bag?
Would I do it again? OF COURSE!
Marian Temple. 13 February 2013
New Year's Day Walk, 2013
After a late (or to some - I suppose - quite early) return from a New Year party attended by quite a lot of EFOG members, the prospect of getting up for a 10am walk from Loughton Station was a bit daunting.
The bedside clock showed 7.30am when I looked, and I didn't need to leave until 8.55, but to ensure I didn't fall asleep again I got up and realised that if I were quick I could catch the first sunrise of the new year - albeit before I had my porridge. So it was up and out to a lovely day and a beautiful sunrise. It wasn't the glorious red colours of the following day, but instead a long, slow appearing of light in the south-east and the Sun proudly appearing across the lake and over the trees and houses bordering Wanstead Flats.
On such a beautiful day, and with such a wonderful sight, it's no surprise that I suddenly realised that if I weren't quick I'd have no breakfast or would miss the train.
I was joined on the train at Snaresbrook by one of our newer members, Marian, and by Jenefer - who had not been with us before. We three arrived at Loughton before the seventeen others who went on the walk, which was led by Peter.
We traversed the town, crossing the High Street and then uphill into the Forest to reach one of the main rides where we turned east and then more north to eventually reach the tea hut at High Beach. Keeping to the main rides was a sensible idea after so much recent rain, and plenty of others were doing the same thing. Surprisingly, hardly any horse-riders, though. The quality of the light was lovely, highlighting the grey trunks of the beeches and the whiter colours of the birches. Fallen leaves which could so easily have looked just messy were coppery.
After a short stop for a snack at High Beach some of the group left us and the rest continued downhill to the biker's hut near the Robin Hood, for lunch. We then walked along the old road towards Whitehouse Plain, and it was just as we reached the plain that it was realised that Katie the greyhound wasn't with us. It seems everyone had assumed she was with someone else, whereas in reality she seems to have got confused as to who was who and taken up with some of the snackers at the tea hut! Sausages may have had something to do with it. Peter retrieved her and we continued, crossing the Epping New Road and making our way back towards Loughton Station. We we were having one of our-ten-green-bottle occasions, where gradually people were going off in different directions until eventually only five of us reached the vicinity of the station together. I mentioned to the extremely large rambling group that were just setting off that we'd started off like them, but had reduced.
By Loughton, I'd received a call from friends saying they were just leaving Newbury Park station for Wanstead Park, and would I like to join them. I would, and the timing was perfect as I got off at Snaresbrook as they got off at Wanstead. We walked around the Ornamental lake in Wanstead Park - the paths of which were muddier than we'd encountered in the Forest, and for the first time in a very long time I noted that the Ornamental Waters was overflowing into the Roding. As we walked across Wanstead Flats towards the 'Golden Fleece' the sun was just setting, so I'd seen both ends of the day. The EFOG walk had been about 5.5 miles; the walk I did in Wanstead with Jenny and Garry was 3 miles. My feet were aching by the time we had a meal in the 'Fleece.
Sunrises, sunsets, trees, company and aching feet - what a good start to the year!
Paul Ferris, 3 January 2013