Yesterday I had a day out walking along Stanage Edge, according to Wikipedia a "gritstone escarpment in the English Peak District". It's not far from the village of Hathersage - which I'd been to last month for a swim - and armed with an Ordance Survey map (OL1), a magnetic compass (in the event fortunately not required), a pair of borrowed waterproof overtrousers (since I'd left mine back in Warrington), and a generous packed lunch from my Mum (very tasty). So I felt pretty well prepared.
I had a couple of possible routes printed out: one from the Guardian (which I think is actually from a company called WalkingWorld; see a version here, without the map) and another from a great site called Walking Britain (in the event I didn't use this one but it had been useful to see it before setting off).
Getting to Hathersage was pretty straightforward but unfortunately there didn't seem to be a direct walking route to Hook Car (where my Stanage Edge route was supposed to begin) so it took me a while before I was even at "the start". Never mind - once I'd ascended the path up to the escarpment I felt like it had been worth the journey just to soak up the views over the Hope Valley. The sun had come out and the air was fresh as I set off north along the edge. Aaaah!
It turned out it was lucky that I'd borrowed those waterproofs, as about 40 minutes later the skies darkened and the views disappeared for a while as the downpour began. There was no shelter so I simply carried on and waited for the rain to blow over while I took a wrong turning (ending up below the escarpment again) and then wandered through an area littered with old millstones before managing to find a way back up again. Back at the top and with blue skies restored at least for the time being, I took a break for lunch. The views are fantastic and I was a little sorry that I was on my own.
Lunch over it was time to press on a bit further along the edge, below doubling back on a path that took me back to the littered millstones and through another heavy shower (both seemed familiar from earlier in the day), before turning off in the direction of Hathersage. I think that the views of Stanage Edge at this point from "ground level" were also well worth seeing - from below the cliff faces looked like they'd been constructed from huge cubes of stone.
Finally after a long walk across several fields full of grazing sheep I arrived back in Hathersage. I'd entertained vague hopes of fitting in a swim in the outdoor pool there, which I think would have been a great way to finish off the day, but unfortunately I'd arrived at the end of the public swimming session. So instead I got a cup of tea and a flapjack at the cafe and then headed back home on the train. It had still been a great day out, and I'm really glad that I went and got some more use out of my walking boots!
It feels like it's been a busy few weeks, what with my London Lidothon, cycling and restarting swimming lessons, and so my trips out to the Yorkshire town of Ilkley and to Edgehill in Liverpool a couple of weeks ago seem to have slipped through the net (as far as blogging is concerned). I went to Ilkley principally to visit the lido (an outdoor swimming pool and leisure facility), but while I was there I also had a bit of a wander on the famous Ilkley Moor (and yes I went "baht'at", as the song goes - but I managed to survive all the same).
I was interested in the outdoor swimming pool after seeing it in a list of Britain's top ten lidos. It's a classic lido design, with a curved pool and a fountain (there are some nice pictures at http://www.ilkley-town.co.uk/ilkley-pool.html). The lido was open for the summer, but the water is unheated and the cooler summer so far this year meant that it was a bracing 18C (around 65F) - no wonder it was so quiet! I felt like all the breath was sucked from my lungs when I first got in, but after a few minutes swimming around I adjusted and began to enjoy the view of Ilkley Craggs in the distance.
I swam for around 20 minutes or so (feeling a little envious of the triathletes in their wetsuits - must get me one!), and afterwards I'd planned to get something to eat at the lido cafe. Unfortunately it was closed, so I settled for fish and chips back in the town centre before heading up towards the moor. I'd printed out a guide from the web so at least I thought I had some idea of where I was going. First stop though was the White Spa Cottage, which offered a mug of tea and a big piece of fruit flapjack served with a spectacular view over the town across to the hills opposite (I even spotted the lido, a splash of artificial blue next to a cricket pitch).
After that I spent a few hours following tracks over the moor. It's quite beautiful in a desolate way, and apart from the sheep it was pretty empty - I only passed one person, although I did see others occasionally in the distance. Some parts even reminded me of the volcano area on the Big Island of Hawaii, and I was entranced by patches of silver-white "flowers", as well as the distant wind turbines (always a favourite!) and the mushroom-like domes of the early warning station at Menwith Hill. All in all I really enjoyed my long walk and would love to go back again sometime - I think Kyle might have enjoyed it too.
A couple of days later I met up with my friend James on the outskirts of Liverpool, to visit part of the Williamson Tunnels that have been excavated and turned into a tourist attraction. The tunnels themselves were originally built in the 1820s and 30s by Joseph Williamson ("the Mole of Edgehill"), an eccentric local landowner and philanthropist. Aside from the very colourful stories about Williamson (there must be a film in there somewhere!) there are some wild theories as to why he built the tunnels. The most plausible seems to be that it was a form of land reclaimation - the tunnel roofs spanned gaps left behind by sandstone quarrying.
Only a small fraction of the tunnels have been cleared (they were used extensively as landfill for building rubble after Williamson's death), and an even smaller part is actually open at the moment. But the workmanship is pretty amazing - huge brick arches that are still solid today, nearly 200 years later.
For some reason I woke up at the ungodly hour of 6:30am this morning and decided I'd go swimming at the gym before the pool got too crowded. I love swimming but I've always struggled to swim a "relaxed" front crawl that I can maintain for longer than a single pool length, and so I've been taking lessons for a few months now to try and improve my technique. (I've often wondered if I should refer to the lessons as "swim coaching", as most people assume you only have lessons if you can't swim at all.)
I'm learning the Shaw Method of swimming front crawl with a great teacher called Linda from Swimtime. This has consisted of practising individual exercises that relate to small parts of the stroke, which are then built up to the full stroke at the end. So you only really get the benefit if you can stop yourself trying to swim the full stroke and instead be disciplined enough to keep repeating the exercises in between the lessons (which have been pretty infrequent really - I think I've had six since February).
The learning process has had its ups and downs. The patten seems to be that new exercises are initially frustrating and difficult, since they modify the patterns mastered in the previous step. Slowly they become easier through repetition, and the next set of exercises are then introduced and the cycle begins again. Looking back, I think that I've found this step-wise "stop/start" approach quite challenging at times, since it doesn't give always give me the feeling of continual improvement - instead, progressing to the next stage (starting a new set of exercises) can initially feel like a step back rather a step forward.
Standing back though, by diligently practising the exercises several times a week, over the months I clearly have made progress - I'm nearly up to swimming the full stroke now. It has reinforced an idea that I really do believe in (and which Kyle touched upon in her post yesterday), that for most things you've got to put the hours in if you want to see results. Or, as someone else has put it more eloquently: "Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out."
Almost one year on from our cycle ride along the Transpennine Trail from Warrington to Chesterfield, last Saturday the three of us (Ronan, Charles and me) were once again tackling the trail with our bikes.
It was all Ronan's idea: to cycle the 40 mile stretch from the western-most point on the Irish Sea at Southport back to Warrington. It's pretty flat and generally well paved (unlike last year's section, which took us two days to travel 90 miles and had the Pennine hills right smack in the middle) so it seemed quite reasonable that we should be able to manage it in one day. My only concerns were the weather (we'd had torrential rain just the day before), my old bike (now squeaking pretty much constantly whenever I pedalled, and screeching whenever I braked), and myself (since I'd cycled relatively few miles since the start of the summer). So, no worries then.
Everything turned out fine. After some initial confusion about meeting up at Southport station we got to the Millenium Marker on the seafront, where the trail begins (it was easily visible due to the gaggle of other cyclists stood around the base), and we were soon on our way. And although the wind never really dropped, the rather omnious grey clouds had by the end of the day turned to blue skies and - miraculously - we were never troubled by rain.
The route itself is pretty gentle with relatively few road sections. Long sections are converted from old railway lines so there are lots of neat bridges and tunnels, and in places we were cycling between sandstone walls now overgrown with thick foliage - like something from a Harry Potter film. Other little highlights on the way included the Leeds-Liverpool Canal and "Wally's Steps" (which have a groove to make it easier to wheel your bike up and down) and the Silver Jubilee Bridge across the Mersey Estuary - a magnificent piece of engineering. (A slightly different highlight was the excellent and very inexpensive food at the Morrisons supermarket cafe in Speke.)
As the evening was very pleasant we decided to stop for a drink at the Ferry Tavern pub on the final stretch about two miles from Warrington. One drink turned into two (and two into three) while we talked about this journey, last year's, and life in general.
It was good to kick back for a couple of hours, but finally we had to complete the last section. I'm not sure whether the drinks helped or hindered us on this part (they may have been partially responsible for a sudden outbreak of racing at this point) but we soon got back to Warrington, and Charles and I continued up to the Millenium Marker on Knutsford Road, where we had started from last year. It seemed a fitting place to stop (at least for now).
After all that I'm ready for a bit of a rest. But I still need to catch up with my trips to Ilkley and the Williamson Tunnels in Liverpool, so stay posted!
As a coda to London Lidothon (and at Kyle's request), I thought I'd write about my complicated morning trying to leave my friends' house yesterday. They had gone to work, leaving me to pack and get a taxi to the train station - once I was ready all I needed to do was lock the front door behind me as I left, dropping the key through the letterbox.
At 9:40am I'm pretty much ready to go, when I'm surprised to see one of their cats chasing a mouse around my backpack next to the front door. Feeling a bit sorry for the mouse, and to save my friends from finding a dead mouse when they got home from work, I reluctantly cornered the two animals in the downstairs bathroom and shooed the cat away. As the poor rodent cowered in the corner I picked it up in a towel, opened the front door to step outside, and tried to release the mouse.
The first problem was that when I got outside, the mouse was not in the towel - it must have escaped and was still in the house - bad news for the mouse but only a minor inconvenience for me.
The second problem was that in closing the door behind me (to try and prevent the cat catching the mouse again) I had managed to lock myself out of the house. This was bad news for me (and absolutely disastrous for the mouse).
I think it took a few moments for my mind to catch up with the reality of the situation, which began to take on a slightly unreal quality. I underwent a rapid series of perceptual shifts that started with the most obvious fact (the door is locked) and extrapolated to the final consequence (I'm outside the house - thankfully dressed - but without shoes and carrying a hand towel, all my things are inside, my friends won't get home for another 7 hours, and it looks like it might rain). It was like being in one of those lateral-thinking brainteasers: "You're trapped outside a locked house. If you call your friend he can come and let you in, but you need your phone for his number and it's inside the house." Surely there's some solution? Does it have something to do with wheel nuts? Matchsticks? Is the answer printed upside down at the bottom of the page?
I mean, how could this even have happened? Until that moment I'd had no idea that you could lock the door without the key. While I stood considering the turn of events, the cat slunk out of the cat flap in another door and gave me a withering look as it crossed the road.
I knew that the key was still in the lock on the other side. Maybe I could reach through the letterbox somehow and get hold of it? The slot looked quite narrow though, and I pondered the wisdom of trying it: the current situation (i.e. I'm locked out) isn't good, but it's better than the alternative (i.e. I'm still locked out but now my hand is also stuck in the door). I tried it anyway, to no avail. So there was nothing else for it: I knocked at the neighbour's house.
I'm extremely lucky that my friends have such a wonderful neighbour. She didn't know their phone numbers but she made me a cup of tea and let me use her phone and internet (I'm not sure that I would have trusted me if the situation had been reversed, but I'm glad she did). She suggested calling a locksmith to open the door, and half an hour later a man called Tim pulled up, stuck a length of bent metal through the letterbox and instantly popped the door open.
Inside the mouse lay dead on the carpet, and Tim was required to charge me £75 for his 10 seconds of work (suddenly locksmithery looked like a very interesting and lucrative line of work). I called my friend and explained what had happened - he laughed so much that I thought maybe I should charge him too - and was soon on my way home.
Afterwards I did feel sorry for the mouse, and I thought to myself that there hadn't been any winners that day. Well, except for Tim (obviously). And possibly my friend, since he had enjoyed the story. And of course the cat.
Today was the second day of my "London Lidothon" and I managed to make it to another three pools - starting with the pool that I didn't make it to yesterday.
Pool #4: The Serpentine Lido, Hyde Park
After some ineffectual wandering around Knightsbridge trying to find Hyde Park I finally made it to the lido on the Serpentine Lake in Hyde Park around 11:30am. Unlike all the other pools that I visited on this trip, this lido consists of a section of the lake that has been roped off for swimmers - although you still have to share it with various geese and other water fowl.
In the context of the lake the lido area seems relatively small but it's actually over 100m long so swimming a few laps can quickly add up to a considerable distance. I wore my swim cap for the first time because I was afraid that the water would be cold, but it didn't seem too bad (according to the lifeguard the water temperature was 21C/68F) and it was pretty quiet. It's pretty neat to swim in a lake! And the lido staff were really nice, so this was a real treat overall.
Afterwards I got a sandwich and a cup of tea at the Lido Cafe next door and then headed off to the next pool...
Pool #5: Parliament Hill Lido
With my wet towel making me feel a bit like Arthur Dent from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", I took the tube from Knightsbridge to Leicester Square, changing to the Northern Line to get to Kentish Town, then walked to Parliament Hill and arrived at the lido around 1:40pm. It's a great brick building with an enormous 60m pool with an unusual stainless-steel lining that shimmered in the sun and made the pool look like a small lake.
This definitely felt like the coldest pool that I swam in! and I wore my swim cap again (the lifeguard told me that the water temperature was 20C but it felt much cooler to me - possibly because the sky began to cloud over and a cool breeze developed, creating waves on the surface of the pool).
I really liked this lido, the staff were really nice again but also had a great sense of humour (for example, when knocking on the reception door to deposit my clothes before swimming, the attendant inside said "What's the password?"; and another attendant warned me that it was especially busy just before I entered the near empty pool - maybe you had to be there for that one). And there were lots of colourful photos on the walls that celebrated the lido's history.
Not to mention the very cool multicoloured cubicles in the vast changing room. Overall I really liked this place and my only regret (aside from the temperature of the water) was that I didn't have longer to spend there.
From Gospel Oask station (next to Parliament Hill) I took an overground train to Hackney Central and then walked to London Fields and got to the lido around 3:40pm.
The London Fields Lido is a heated pool (I didn't get the temperature but it felt a lot warmer than Parliament Hill!) so although it's much smaller than most of the other pools it was also a lot more popular. The pool is lined with multicoloured changing cubicles and lockers that are very reminiscent of those at Tooting Bec Lido, with the swimming area divided into different sections for lap swimmers of different speeds.
I swam around in the "slow" lane for a while looking at the darkening sky until I finally decided I had to leave and get back to my friends in Datchet, since we were planning to have dinner that evening in Windsor (thanks again to them for letting me stay for the two days!).
I had a lot of fun and I'm really glad that I made the effort to visit the pools. But after two days of swimming I'm also ready for a rest! So tomorrow I'm heading home. A couple of acknowledgements are due however before I finish:
Janet Smith's "Liquid Assets", Kate Rew's book "Wild Swim", and the websites Lidothon'09 and Oliver Merrington's Lidos in the United Kingdom were all sources of invaluable information,
London Transport did amazing work moving me around London, and
My friends Steve and Ingrid have been fabulous hosts allowing me to stay at their place while engaged in this little adventure.
I've completed day one of my two day trip to visit some of the pools and lidos in London, and it's been fun. The weather has been pretty good and I've really enjoyed swimming in the pools.
I'd hoped to make it to four pools today, but I suppose I underestimated how long it would take to get between them (I should have remembered from previous trips to London); also I think I made a bad transport choice between the first two pools that cost me a lot of time. But that's ok, because I still have tomorrow.
Pool #1: Pools on the Park, Richmond
I arrived at Pools on the Park around 10:40am - it's just a short walk from Richmond station so it's really convenient. The indoor pool is currently being refurbished - you could see workman wandering around inside - but the outdoor pool is still open.
The pool is heated (supposedly today to 27C) so it was very pleasant, and is divided into lanes for different levels of swimmer - I started off in the "nice and easy" lane, because basically I was there to have fun. It was great to swim on my back and see blue sky with the airplanes flying overhead (it reminded me a little of the pool at the Hilo Hawaiian Hotel on the Big Island of Hawaii).
I took the 493 bus from Richmond to Tooting Broadway tube station, which I think turned out to be a bad choice as it took forever to get there - and then I still had to get the tube to Tooting Bec and walk to the lido, arriving around 2pm. But it was well worth the journey - the pool at the lido is an enormous expanse of blue water. At 90m long it's the biggest pool I've ever swum in, and it looks fabulous - curved toilets and shower blocks at the entrance, and rows of changing cubicles with different coloured doors lining the sides of the pool. It looks like a fabulous place to spend an afternoon.
The water is unheated and at 19C was a little on the chilly side at first. Now though I think the trick is to get in and swim on your back for a few minutes, to acclimatise and get your circulation going. After that the water doesn't feel so cold (honest!).
I swam 10 lengths (trying to avoid the hose from what appeared to be an underwater roomba, cleaning the pool floor maybe?), watching trains whizz past periodically, before getting out and having a cup of tea and a hot dog at the lido cafe. Then it was time to head off for pool #3...
Getting to here from Tooting Bec seemed a little involved too - tube from Tooting Bec station to Stockwell and then to Brixton, then transfer to mainline rail to Herne Hill before walking a short distance to Brockwell Park and the lido.
Brixton itself had real buzz, almost a carnival feel (even late on a Tuesday afternoon) compared to Richmond and Tooting. The lido (also known as "Brixton Beach") is a classic 1930 brick building. The pool itself is pretty big and really nice to swim in, although again unheated (the board claimed it was 21.5C but it felt colder!). There is also plenty of space beside the pool for sunbathing and quite a few people were sitting or lying down soaking up the rays.
After my swim I got a cup of tea and some tasty toast at the cafe (currently being refurbished but thankfully still open for business).
At this point it was too late to make it to the Serpentine, so after some more messing around with the underground I decided I should head back to my friends place in Datchet. They have been really great at giving me somewhere to stay and looking after me with food and drink, so a big thanks to them. Tomorrow I'll head back into London to swim in a few more places - but for now, it's time for bed!
I just arrived at my friends Steve and Ingrid's place near London this evening ahead of two days swimming in the some of the pools and lidos of London - very generously they're letting me stay here for a few nights.
Hopefully the pools will be slightly warmer than the lido that I went to in Ilkley last week (will blog that when I get home) - at least now I have a swimming cap from the Outdoor Swimming Society online shop (it arrived this morning just before I left, a good sign?) so that should help to keep warm.
I guess I'll get to bed soon and get some rest before my "London Lidothon" begins tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Last Friday was Warrington Walking Day and since I'd never actually watched the procession before I decided to go up to the town hall to see the start of the parade.
Most of the week had been hot and humid, but on the day the weather was wet (and somehow strangely still a little sticky too) so the people assembled on the lawn had to march out through Warrington's Golden Gates in the rain. I imagine that the crowd was smaller than in years with better weather but the turnout was still good - a small forest of umbrellas - and the walkers themselves put on a brave face as they passed the mayoral party, waving back from their little shelter.
I wasn't sure ahead of time what the Walking Day procession would actually consist of, but essentially it's a parade made up of the local churches and community groups. Most of them carry banners or flags (often quite colourful) and there were also a few marching bands, including pipe and drum, bagpipes, and full brass. I'm sure that on a sunny day the whole thing has quite a bit of a carnival atmosphere.
It took around 30 minutes for all the walkers to clear the gates and set off on their route around the town centre. For a while the rain eased but then came back with a vengence, so after watching the parade for a bit longer in Bridge Street I decided that the best thing to do would be to head home for some tea and dryness. I hope that the people marching didn't suffer too much in the downpour - I was certainly glad to have finally seen something of this grand Warrington tradition.
As an addendum to last week's post about beer, I had a great time with my friends last weekend and hopefully they all enjoyed it too.
As well as drinking most of the beer, we also went to Liverpool on the Saturday and spent much of the day in different parts of the Albert Dock: Steve and I went to the Tate gallery (which currently features work by Sol LeWitt, who incidentally also has a piece on the Princeton University campus) as well as seeing some great prints by Carol Lander in the Whistlefish Gallery. The others visited the Beatles Experience (which Kyle and I had already seen last year). This was followed by a drink at the Pumphouse and dinner at Nandos, which sadly left no time for a Mersey boat trip (maybe next time), but at least they also got to see something of Warrington.
I was sad to see everyone go on Sunday - it seems that we don't see each other as often as we would like - but clearing up afterwards I found some solace in this inspiring message from my Friday evening fortune cookie:
So I'll drink to that and look forward to seeing them again soon!
(With thanks to Stephen for his photo of us on the way to Liverpool.)
