Castles in the (Rainy) Air. . .

Nursing a bit of a cold, it might not have been the wisest idea to go walking when the weather promised mostly showers, but ever the optimist, I took "mostly" to mean "not all day" and even packed my sunglasses.

I didn't need them.

You know it's bad when the best shelter you can find for lunch is hunched down behind a wall that only stops the wind from one direction and does nothing to keep the rain off either yourself, or your food.

Still, we walkers are a hardy bunch and the grey weather can still bring out the beauty in the landscape. We're about five miles south of Kirby Stephen in Cumbria.

I won't lie - it was cold and soggy and muddy and thus rather miserable for the first half of the six hour hike. But then things got better.  For one thing, the rain stopped although it remained cloudy and windy. Then as always, the sheep cheered me up, like this philosophical one contemplating the swollen River Eden as we walked alongside.

And I knew there were two treats in store, the first one, just glimpsed through the mist.

CASTLES!!!!!

Coming from across the pond, I'm still enough of a history geek to be in awe of anything older than the twentieth century, so to be able to walk around the ruins of a 12th century castle is quite exciting.  This is the romantically named Pendragon Castle which legend says was built by King Arthur's father, Uther Pendragon.  At one time, it was also owned by Sir Hugh de Morville, Lord of Westmorland, who was one of the knights who murdered Thomas Beckett.

I rushed right in through the doorway and crawled on my hands and knees through this portal to get inside.

Only to discover a much more civilized mode of entry just around the corner.

Both the castle and its surroundings are serene and beautiful.

A little further on, another castle appeared on the horizon.

This is Lammerside Castle, also 12th century, although what is left was mostly built in the 14th century.

It also is situated with stunning views, showing the direction where we came from. 

The last part of the walk took us through many fields. It's lambing season and there were plenty of youngsters looking quite adorable.

And what's that?  Were we actually walking towards a patch of blue?

No, as it turned out, but the sun finally did appear . . .  as we were on the coach heading home. A hot bath and a good night's sleep ensued. My cold is much worse - but it was worth it.

Toronto Project Inspires Liverpool . . .

I love urban regeneration schemes and today's Liverpool Post reported on big plans for a new "Brewery Village" to be developed in an area surrounding the historic Cains Brewery (pictured below).  The brewery would focus on becoming a craft brewery and the building renovated.  Proposals include adding a hotel, a deli food hall, a sky bar, possibly an art cinema and independent shops and apartments,as well as making the surrounding streets more people friendly.  You can read about the plans here. 

What I love most about the design is that it's modeled in part on Toronto's very successful Distillery District where the buildings are actually twenty years older than those in Liverpool  (and how often can you say that??)

I remember the Distillery District before the Soulpepper Theatre Company moved in and jump started a lovely transformation.  It's one of the Toronto places I miss and I'm thrilled that something similar might soon be coming to Liverpool.  I've walked around the area near Cains Brewery; it contains a lot of warehouses and is slightly deserted and sinister, especially at night. But it's on the edge of a creative area known as the Baltic Triangle (there's a gorgeous Swedish church nearby) where lots of small creative companies have taken root.  It's within a ten minute walk of the Albert Docks and the main shopping area, and I can see it being a huge tourist attraction for the city, just as the Distillery District is for Toronto.  

Liverpool and Literature. . .

In celebration of the opening of the new Central Library and World Book Day, Liverpool is hosting tons of literary events all over the city throughout April and May.  In Other Words is a literary festival that includes readings, lectures, literary walking tours and all sorts of interactive events. You can download the brochure here (on the sidebar at the right).  It's overwhelming how many things are going on and I'll definitely be trying to get to as much as possible, culminating with Light Night on May 17th when the library officially reopens  AND the LOOK/13 International Photography Festival opens AND the Queen Mary 2 will be in dock. It's all very exciting.

One of the events I'll be volunteering at is a three-day marathon reading of Moby Dick at the Maritime Museum (I'm just doing fifteen minutes of it).  Dubbed Moby on the Mersey, there will be several events celebrating Melville's relationship with Liverpool.  He visited the city in 1839 when he was twenty years old and used his experiences in the writing of his novel Redburn, which I now need to read.  

Seek This Game. . .

 

    He preferred the more oblong shapes of books on literary criticism, belles lettres. To become a man of letters, he would make special to himself one smallish aspect of literature, read all the books about it, add another of his own. Anything later encroaching on his territory, he would himself review.
     'The novel is practically finished as an art form,' he replied.
     'I suppose it is,' said Harriet.
     'Virginia Woolf has brought it to the edge of ruin.'
     'Yes,' said Harriet.
     'But it was inevitable,' he added, laying no blame.
     'I suppose it was,' Harriet said, in a slow, considering way.
     The novel - headstrong parvenu - seemed headed for destruction. No one could stay its downward course and, obviously, it did not deserve that Vesey should try. Virginia Woolf with one graceful touch after another (the latest was Mrs Dalloway) was sending it trundling downhill. She had been doing this unbeknown to Harriet who had never even heard of her.

( From the NYRB Classics edition of  A Game of Hide and Seek by Elizabeth Taylor pg 17-18)

   
Sometimes you just don't want a book to end.  I am slowly savouring this quiet and exasperating dance between the two main characters, Harriet and Vesey.  I love it when a literary discussion pinpoints the essentials of personality (later on another character is reading Persuasion to great effect).   If it uses Woolf to do so, even better.

Ashore, Mate . . .

It's interesting after all these years to be living on an island, a concept that has previously only existed for me in a literary sense, culled from favourite childhood books.  The Island of Adventure.  Anne of the Island. Treasure Island.  It's not a constant awareness - Great Britian is quite a large island after all - but it doesn't take too long from any point on it to reach the sea, or at least a sea view; its proximity still shocks me at times.  And that's something quite different from living in a big city on the shores of Lake Ontario.  For one thing, there are tides and many places where one really does have to pay attention to them.  And as I continue to explore Liverpool and its rich maritime history, I'm slowly starting to get my cultural sea legs and actually feel an affinity for this powerful and picturesque force that surrounds me and has been such an important influence on the people and artists who live here.  Who doesn't like to be beside the seaside?

So I very much enjoyed a recent concert by June Tabor at the Capstone Theatre.  I was introduced to her by a friend and former book rep who took long road trips and subsequently always had interesting music in his car. On his recommendation I bought a couple of her CDs, both solo stuff and her work with the Oysterband and really loved her deep and haunting voice and the choice of material; very evocative storytelling, including many songs about the First World War.  She has twice been named Folk Singer of the Year by BBC2 Radio.  She performed many songs from her latest CD, Ashore and after proclaiming her fascination - shared by many Brits - for the radio's shipping forecast (an institution of sorts), she said she wanted to record traditional songs from all parts of the UK, dealing with many different aspects of a sailor's life.  There were songs about going off to enlist in the navy, ending your navy career and saying goodbye to the ship and even cannibalism at sea - a witty song from the Channel Islands, sung in French as the French sailors apply a rich butter sauce to their human roast. She was accompanied by a simple but effective three man band consisting of a pianist, violinist, and accordionist who contribute their own instrumental shanty.   The CD is really beautiful to listen to, a combination of catchy tunes and poignant, sad tales from several different centuries.

All The Colours of Yorkshire. . .

Here's some really exciting wool news (at least for me).  One of my favourite wool shops in the UK is Baa Ram Ewe on the outskirts of Leeds, and their latest newsletter is full of exciting updates about Titus, their very own yarn.  I'm a huge fan of Titus, which is part Grey Wensleydale, part Bluefaced Leicester and part alpaca, and is really soft and lovely to work with. I used it for the background of my too-small fair isle hat.  Being a Yorkshire lass by birth, I'm also quite sentimental about Titus, named after Titus Salt, the mill owner who also founded Saltaire, his attempt at creating a utopian village with good working and housing conditions for his workers, now a Unesco World Heritage site.  It's also the place where my grandparents lived for decades and what I think of as my spiritual home in England.   And the restored Salts Mill is well worth a visit.

Titus has been hard to get; it's always sold out.  But the shop seems to have secured a production deal that will ensure that more stock will soon be readily on hand.  Plus they now have a distributor in Canada, so shortly it should be available in yarn stores over there. PLUS, they are going to introduce some new colours, inspired by all things Yorkshire.  Take a look at these; I'm swooning.

I just love, love these colours, particularly parkin, chevin and eccup.  I want to do a fair isle sweater with all of them.

Winter Walking. . . in Spring!

Yesterday, as the coach travelled north, I was really doubting my sanity.  The Royal Navy helicopters had been called out to rescue four hikers in different parts of the Lake District on Saturday.  The weather was calling for gusty winds and -22 degrees windchill on the top of the hills.  But the sun was shining and I made sure I was well bundled up (long-sleeve base layer, wool sweater, fleece on top of that, and then my windbreaker, with fleece tights under the walking pants).  I also finished my new woolly hat in time (and it fit!!!!  - the pattern is the Check Slouch by Triona Murphy)

And you know what?  It was one of the nicest walks I have ever done.   Yes, the wind was fierce but the paths were good and it's actually easier to walk on snow than in mud or bog. Our leader wisely decided to alter the route and not climb too high to avoid being blown over, but the wonderful thing about the Lake District is that the scenery is just as stunning from the valleys looking up as it is from the tops looking down.  This northern part of the Lakes is one that I hadn't walked before and I definitely want to return and explore it more thoroughly. We started just outside the village of Threlkeld.

And then made our way through the lovely St. John's in the Vale.

The sheep were enjoying the scenery too.

And clearly in this region, hikers are always expected no matter what the weather.

We skirted around High Rigg with Skiddaw (England's fourth highest mountain) then coming into view.

We then detoured half a mile to see a wonderful stone circle.  Now there are many of these all around Britain, but you'd be hard pressed to find one with a more beautiful 360 degree view.  Stonehenge has nothing on this!

Then it was downhill toward Derwent Water,

en route to the town of Keswick and a well deserved shandy.

And a day that I was half dreading turned out to be a very enjoyable one indeed.  Unfortunately, not all of the country has fared as well during this unseasonable snow storm.  Lots of people are still without power and especially on the Isle of Man hundreds of sheep and other livestock have died in the snow drifts.  I'm definitely ready for spring now.

Comeuppance. . .

This post is for all my Toronto friends who have had to endure me blogging about spring weather and daffodils.  I was sharply reminded of home yesterday as fierce winds and snow blew into Liverpool.  Here's the "spring" camellia bush in our backyard this morning:

And I'm scheduled to go walking in the Lake District tomorrow!  That should be interesting.  In a perfect world, I'd wear my new fair isle hat which I finished this week.  But. . .

. . . my hat curse continues.  Despite aggressive blocking, the darn thing is too small!  Sigh.  Yes, I should have done a gauge swatch. Looking for a deserving kid with a small head now.  Still, it was good practice for fair isle and I feel I can confidently tackle other fair isle projects.  But for the moment, I'm trying to finish a new hat in time for tomorrow.

Bleak and Beautiful Bronte Country. . .

Scenes from our latest walk on the moors near Haworth. I absolutely adore this type of landscape although it would look even more stunning in the autumn when the heather is in bloom.

It's been eighteen years since I last visited Top Withins, but it still gives me a literary thrill.

And the view from the ruins is incomparable.

It was a long 14.5 mile walk through a lot of bog and mud and I was completely knackered and sore by the end, but it was worth it.  Plenty of sheep to see too.