Buses, Bridges and a Castle

 I am so exhausted by 10 o'clock every night that I cannot keep my eyes open. My knees ache, my back aches. I don't find myself awake at 3 a.m. like I often do at home. I walk all day, or sit in a bus for a while and then walk. 

Today I bought the all-day bus ticket again, which costs about five quid. This makes getting around very economical. With the Lothian bus app, like the London transport app, you can work out how to get exactly where you need to go, how long it will take and track your journey on the bus, so that you know exactly where to get off. The bus stops all have names and letters identifying them, and there is a recording announcing them as the bus approaches. They're also announced on a screen at the front of the bus. I think they've got the signage and announcements sorted much better than we have. I can never understand the announcements on the trains: the sound system is crap, and they rely on the drivers to make the announcements in Sydney--and many of the drivers don't speak English as well as my students--whereas here they have a recording made by a professional speaking a standard dialect. It's so easy to understand.

The Lothian bus app generally works very well, except when there's construction--and there is so much construction--when they trickily move the bus stop without changing the app information. 

Today I took off early to see the Forth Bridge. I didn't realise until I arrived that I would not be able to walk the Forth (Railway) Bridge, nor that there are three bridges all together: two road bridges (which look like twins) and one railway bridge. I wanted to walk across the red one--the railway bridge--and my home research did not alert me to the fact that no-one can walk that bridge. 

It was raining this morning, so I had a rather soggy walk after I got off the bus. There were no cafes open when I first arrived, although a proprietor let me in to his place even though he wasn't yet open, saying he could get me a coffee and I could have a cake, if I wanted, but he couldn't organise anything hot from the kitchen yet. I had a coffee and a walnut coffee cake, which was quite satisfying, and it was mercifully dry inside. 

It was a long walk to the Forth Road Bridge and it was raining all the way. I walked half way across and then back to catch the bus into the city. I had lunch at an Indian place in the old town, and went to Edinburgh Castle for my 2:00-2:30 entry slot. 

I'll love you and leave you now because I must lay my weary head down. 

Edinburgh

 My second night here. I find the city overwhelming: the height of the buildings and the distances to be walked, most uphill. I am cultivating a large blister on my right little toe. Have wrapped it in a bandaid but it's still not a happy chappy, the result of my walking everywhere yesterday before I downloaded the Lothian bus and tram app, and learned how to get around in a little more comfort.

I went to the old town by bus this morning, intending to visit Edinburgh Castle, but I was unable to get a reservation, so I reserved my entry for between 2:00 and 2:30 pm, tomorrow. 

As I couldn't get into the castle, I went up to have a look at the Camera Obscura, along with multiple families--all with many children. It's the second Camera Obscura I have seen. The other was in Havana, so I guess I'm two-thirds of the way into a new collection.

This morning I booked my trip to the Shetlands, rather stupidly, I think, without having booked my accommodation.  I was unable to score a cabin on the ferry, which is rather sad because the trip takes 12 hours, I think. However, in lieu of a nice private, quiet and and totally horizontal bed, I did get a pod. 

I didn't know what a pod might pacifically entail at first: something like a coffin? However, the online photos showed something resembling an airline seat, with more legroom. Not I need very much of that.

Apparently the pod area is sectioned off from the area where the other travellers, who didn't book a pod, are, so I'm hoping I'll be able to sleep a bit. Wasn't able to get the car on the same ferry as me. No more car space available, so I'll go on the passenger ferry and the car will go on the cargo ferry. 

So far, so good, I thought. At least I can get there. 

However, when I tried to book accommodation, all the booking sites: Booking.com, Hotel.com, Trivago.com, etc, all had no availability for the dates I needed. I had already paid (a lot) for the ferry; now I started to think I would have to sleep in the car while on the island. 

Finally, I managed to get a room, with a shared bathroom, on Airbnb. (There was only one availability there, so my options were somewhat limited.) I haven't shared a bathroom in many years, and I wouldn't  have agreed to it unless I was desperate. Also, the accommodation is not where I wanted it to be, but I can't be too picky. It was that or try to get a refund from the ferry company, and not go to the Shetlands at all. 

Northumberland Castles

 I'm on the 13:35 pm train from York to Edinburgh. Dropped off the rental car, and left my reading glasses in that tricky compartment under the rear vision mirror, as I always do in my own car at home. Well, I did bring my second pair, just in case. The scouts are right: BP!

Spent yesterday derving round to all the castles I knew of in the vicinity of Seahouses, where I was staying. There was Bamburgh Castle, Alnwick Castle, Dunstanburgh Castle and Lindisfarne Castle. 

Only saw Bamburgh from the outside while I strolled through the wildflowers along the coastal path early in the morning. It looked forbidding. Truth be known, I was not really looking to walk around lavishly furnished rooms hung with the portraits of in-bred ancestors, and gawp at collections of silverware and china. But the view of the castle on the cliff above the sea was spectacular.

I'm really more interested in castle ruins, and those were my favourites: Lindisfarne Castle, which again, unfortunately, I only got to look at from the outside--I will tell you the that story below--and Dustanburgh Castle. 

So, Lindisfarne Castle (at left) is on Holy Island, which is reached over a causeway, only accessible at low tide. I had been told the time by which I had to leave the island if I didn't want to spend 8-10 hours there waiting for the tide to go down enough to reveal the causeway. They told me I had to leave by 12:00 noon. By the time I got to the carpark, it was 10:30. The carpark was in the village, a couple of kilometres from the castle. Well, that is the way of things here: the streets are narrow. There are a few spaces by the side of some roads, but generally parking is as scarce as hen's teeth. It's not uncommon for the parking for a venue to be several kilometres away and you have to pay for it as well as entry to the attraction. 

According to English Heritage "Lindisfarne. . . is one of the most important centres of early English Christianity" 

So I walked as fast as my little fat legs would carry me behind the others who had paid and displayed at the carpark. I was very mindful of the time limit and wished that I had got there earlier, but what can you do? 

Lindisfarne Castle was amazing. The whole island: the beach, the fields, the stone walls were a fairytale. And great for  black and white photography. 

Dustanburgh Castle was another delight. I got there late afternoon and the beautiful light, the clouds were what photographers hope for. This is Dunstanburgh below. 

I'm in Edinburgh now. Arrived yesterday on the train. Have made a mistake with the accommodation. It's very from the Royal Mile and all the things I want to see. Working out the buses is going to be a bit tricky. You have to pay with exact change, and I hadn't even used cash until yesterday. In London you can just tap your debit or credit card to pay your fare, just like in Sydney, so I didn't need to handle cash. 

Beautiful York

Above is Lendal Bridge at dawn. 

Stayed in York for a couple of days and left this morning. I picked up a rental car--a Kia hybrid. From York I drove to the Northumberland Coast (Vera country), where I am now ensconced in Seahouses. I'll stay here for a couple of nights. 

I had to leave York. Staying any longer might have killed me. Too much beauty, too many photos to take, and my left shoulder had been bothering me. Had a couple of Panadols and a bath this morning before I left York,  hoping to stave off the ache, but I could still feel it niggling there beneath the shoulder blade, even as I typed a draft of this blog entry. 

I'll have to limit myself to the smallest camera and lens today: no tripod or heavy birding lens. (That was my intention this morning, and it's very lucky that I'm so absent-minded that I left the camera in the car when I walked up to Whitby Abbey.) I took lots of photos with my phone, without the dire consequences I've suffered for the past couple of days when taking photos with my cameras.

Yesterday, as I told you, I booked a 4:00 pm boat ride up the river Ouse. York is very pretty, but the weather was extremely hot--30 degrees. The passengers were all wilting.

I sat next to a family with a couple of kids. One little boy looked as if he was burning up. His face was covered with red spots. He didn't seem to like the hat he was wearing and kept taking it off. I told the father that the little boy looked very hot. He nodded. Later his mother said: "He's got chicken pox. Have you had it?"

As the only solo traveller on the boat, I drew attention to myself, I suppose. There were families, couples, and couples of couples. I also looked a bit scruffier than the run of other grandmotherly types on board. I suppose I gave off the vibe of an ageing hippy. 

Well, I ordered and sipped my (slightly warm, unfortunately) Prosecco. And when the 45-minute trip was about to wind up, an Italian-Englishman who had ordered a bottle or two and hadn't managed to finish it all with his family, offered me a glass, at the behest of his wife.

We chatted, for some reason, in Spanish. --He started it. 

When I got back to shore, I walked down to to Sainsbury's to find some dinner, and, of course, a bottle of Prosecco. (It was really really tiny, just a couple of mouthfuls, but it did put me to sleep last night.) I woke up at 3 a.m. in my day clothes.

Have just arrived in Seahouses. So different driving here, though. When I drive in Oz, I'm always pulling over to the side of the road to take photos so my journeys always take nearly twice as long as planned. 

Here, there is no side of the road, so I just keep driving. Today I had to pass a double-decker bus on a road really only wide enough for one vehicle. I guess it's good that I couldn't stop anywhere because it's given my shoulder a break, and I have no pain at the moment. 

Ok, I'm going to wind this up with a rather moody shot of Whitby Abbey. It was inspiration for Dram Stoker to write "Dracula".

Hot, hot, hot!

28 degrees today and blue skies. The sky is still blue, now, at 9:20 pm and a half moon is peeking down on me from over the other side of the building.

Got up early as usual--4 a.m.--and made a list of what I'd do. Decided to go to Hampstead Heath, since the Camden Community Markets didn't open until 10. I lugged out the big camera so I could shoot wildlife, and planned the bus journey. 

I found a great app called, spookily enough, "London". Tells you which transport to catch, how to get to the bus stop or station from where you are, and tracks the bus stops while you're riding so that you know where to get off. Amazing! What a world we live in. Now, if they could invent smartphones that live a little longer than a couple of hours if you're using GPS. . . That would be a thing! 

When I got to Hampstead Heath, I realised it was quite a big deal, my morning excursion. The heath is big and there was a lot of trekking uphill in bright sunshine. People everywhere running, swimming in the ponds, throwing balls for their dogs to fetch. Trees, birds, squirrels, and me with my big camera panting in the heat. 

I mentioned in the last entry that I have a very poor sense of direction, and you who know me well will understand the depth of my ineptitude. Google maps has made it worse. I'm even less likely to take note of my surroundings now that I can rely on the app. My smartphone has made me stupider! I used google maps to find my way around the heath, otherwise I might have been lost there forever.

It wasn't long until I felt the old malady. Strange: the dull pain under the left shoulder blade makes me feel like I want to vomit. I can't do much about it except sit down, rest, and stop turning the lens ring. I guess it's like tennis elbow to a tennis enthusiast. So, I stopped walking, sat under a tree and waited for the birds to come to me. Easier than walking, but the nausea was still there. And when I thought of the long trek I'd have to make to get back to the bus stop, I felt a little sicker. 

I walked slowly down Parliament Hill, resting on the way on a bench which seemed to have been placed there for my comfort. I eventually found my way to the bus stop and back to the suite, where I rested for a little while, then, having found my mojo again, I took the same bus route--46--to go to Camden Community Markets. 

What a crush of people! Food, everywhere but nowhere to sit and eat it, except on the footpath. I wandered around a bit, took what photos I could, and then followed the tow path from Camden Lock to, what I then realised, was Regents Canal, which I had intended to walk while in London, but had forgotten to schedule it. Regents Canal goes for about 17 km, but I didn't have the energy to do the whole length. I walked along a little and then walked up a set of stairs to the street, hoping to see a bus stop or a tube station. I was disappointed. The London app told me I'd have to walk for 20 or 30 minutes just to get to the bus stop, but I couldn't find the one it wanted me to go to. I decided I'd have to walk back to William Goodenough House, which the google maps said would take me 40 minutes. And then the phone ran out of juice and died. 

Now, I still had my very poor sense of direction, but I had no way of telling where I was or how I would get back to the accommodation. I have very little understanding of the layout of London after two days relying on google maps and the London transport app. I thought maybe if I took a bus to anywhere, I'd
reach a tube stop or another bus stop which would get me closer to where I desperately wanted to be. I was hot, thirsty and tired. 

As I was ambling down the Euston Road, following the shade, I saw "The British Library"--a behemoth of a red brick building. Very impressive! I remembered having seen it on a map, and it wasn't so far from William Goodenough House, where I'm staying, though I thought it was strange at the time that I hadn't chanced upon it while I was walking about.

 I was panting as I trudged through the sunshine and heat to reach the entrance. I thought, well, it's a library. They might have a free paper map which I could use to work out where I was and how far away that was to where I wanted to be. 

I must have looked a sight because as I walked through the door, a bloke who worked there said: "Can I help you?" I told him I was a little bit lost and my phone was dead. He asked me where I wanted to go and I told him. He told me that a hundred metres down the road was St Pancras tube stop and just a little further on was Kings Cross station. He said I could get a train there to Russell Square. 

Actually though, I had passed Kings Cross Station earlier that morning on my first bus ride and remembered it because it was very close to where I'm staying. I thought at the time that I could have walked it in 20 minutes or so. It's where I will have to arrive bright and early tomorrow morning for my train to York. 

So, I walked, thinking that I could walk back to the digs. It's always good to remain positive, even in the light of a crushing inability to understand spatial relationships, don't you think? 

I got close. I got 500 metres away, but I wasn't able to find where I had slept the previous two nights. I asked some shopkeepers but they hardly knew where they were themselves, let alone where Mecklenburg Square was. 

Finally I stopped an Italian woman with a phone and asked her if she'd look it up on Google maps for me. She did, pointed out the route, and she and her husband wished me luck, rather doubtfully I thought, as I set off.

Her directions were great and along with some partial memories of street names that I had seen this morning on the way to the bus, I finally found my way back. 

I closed my eyes for a bit and woke up a couple of hours later. 

London Bridges

I've had a couple of errands waiting to be done since I arrived. The most important was to acquire an EE sim. I had read that they were the only ones which would work in Scotland. After the nine-hour delay in Sydney, I thought, well, at least the accommodation will be open when I get to London (which it wouldn't have been at 6 a.m.--the original estimated time of arrival) and I will be able to get a SIM card from the airport shop (which opens much later than the arrival time of the original flight).

The SIM shop in the airport was open, but they were not selling EE SIMs because the network was down on the 6th of July. I knew Telstra would not be shy about charging me for any time that my phone was active without a wifi carrier. I left my phone on flight mode except for about a minute last night when I was trying to get the WhatsApp group for "my people" registered on my laptop and needed to scan a QR code.

Two seconds after that I got a $10 bill from Telstra!

I promptly returned the phone to flight mode and did not turn it on again until this afternoon when I got the EE phone number that came with the new Sim. I made do with asking station staff or civilians for directions to my stations when I got lost. I did the research for the tube stops last night, using my laptop and the hotel wifi.

Good news is, I got the SIM, from a convenience store this afternoon, despite the EE shop closest to me saying that a sudden rush of tourists had cleaned them out today. Would I like to wait until tomorrow? 

Still not sleeping regular hours; it will take about a week to do that, based on my previous experience. Bright and early yesterday, I set off towards Russel Square tube stop and took myself off to Little Venice, which I'd seen in a British movie last week and determined to see with my own eyes. Here it is. 

I walked along the towpath or an hour or two and then followed the people I could see walking on the street, reasoning that they must be going to a tube stop, and they were. 

I went to Tower Hill with the aim of walking across the Tower Bridge.
After weaving back and forth across the Thames on three more of London's bridges--London, Southwark and the Millenial Bridge, as I was crossing the Millenial Bridge I saw the Tate Gallery waiting for me. I went in to see the Surrealism exhibition. 

I found St Paul's tube stop and got home much more quickly than I could have predicted because while I certainly didn't know it at the time--I have a shocking sense of direction--I had been walking along the banks of the Thames in the direction of Russel Square. 

Tomorrow I'm off to the Camden Community Market. The following day I leave London for York at sparrowsfart.

Yes, but nah. . .

 I am a bit rusty. Last time I checked the estimated departure time was 24 hours ago, and the plane was on time, then. Got here to an almost deserted check-in line. Well, I thought, QANTAS' suggestion to arrive 4 hours before flight at 3.55 p.m. must have solved staff shortages, queues and long delays! 

No waiting. Straight to the guy sitting next to the conveyor belt for the checked luggage. 

"You know the flight is one hour late?" he asked me. No, I didn't know because I didn't bloody check. 

"Didn't you get a text message from QANTAS?" No, actually. He read out my phone number. Yep, that's it. "Well, it's not leaving until 8 o'clock." 

Oh, that's a four-hour delay! 

So, thought I'd get a head start on my blog. Start as you mean to go on? Sorry it's not more exciting or scenic. 

Bugger the school holidays! 

I was fine. Perched myself on a stool in front of a big window, looking at the planes as I waited for my muse. Just been invaded by an Indian (Nepali?) family with eight children who are now standing between me and the window, chattering excitedly in high-pitched voices (and that's only the mothers). Screaming baby behind me in the lounge area. The volume of the hubbub is increasing exponentially. Might have to move away. 

Now there is a long line, snaking around the bench where I am sitting, coming between me and the view. God! the children. Glad they'll all be on this flight and not on mine, 7 hours down the track. 

I will delay my next until I have something good to report.