The second day of our recent mini-break was spent at Grange-over-Sands.
We last visited Grange-over-Sands about 15 years ago and as expected, nothing has changed and we were pleased about that. The town has a sort of timeless charm and doesn’t need to change. That of course is spoken as a tourist; residents may or may not agree.
The only thing that should change is the name, Grange-over-Sands. It is a big misnomer and some have suggested it should change its name to Grange-over-Grass. Apparently the “over-Sands” suffix was added to Grange in the late 19th or early 20th century by the local vicar who was fed up with his post going to Grange in Borrowdale near Keswick. Since then, the river Kent has changed its course and the water (Morecambe Bay) and the sand is now a fair distance away. Instead of ‘Where’s Wally?’ it’s ‘Where’s the sand?’
There is a mile-long promenade but this is not a typical seaside resort promenade. This one is totally traffic-free and instead of shops and amusement arcades there are views across the bay on one side and informal gardens lovingly tended by local volunteers on the other side. We ‘Nordic-walked’ the whole length from the station and back with the gardens on one side and views over the bay to the other side.
The station building was designed mid-1860s and was tastefully restored to its former glory in the late 1990s. It is a delightful building. The light and shade through the glass canopy created this fascinating effect on the platform.
The train was about to leave for Manchester Airport, calling at such places as Carnforth, Lancaster, Preston, Wigan, Manchester Oxford Road and Piccadilly, all a far cry from sleepy little Grange.
Oh dear what can the matter be…?
What was the problem in the toilets which required hazard warning signs and hard hats? Clearly much more than just a dripping tap!
We have just returned home from a few days in the Carnforth area of Lancashire. Mid-way between the Lake District and the Yorkshire Dales, it gave us an ideal opportunity to revisit some old haunts and discover some new ones. Having seen many photographs of the Ribblehead Viaduct I thought this was a good chance to have a shot at it. I had always imagined it to be in a very remote area and assumed photographers had yomped miles across moorland and bogs, carrying heavy photographic equipment, in order to get the perfect shot. Surely we would be the only people around for miles. How wrong could I be. The reality is that the viaduct is just off the B6255 between Ingleton and Hawes, complete with layby parking, tea stall and a good path to the viaduct and beyond. Another example of reality not quite living up to expectations. We just managed to get one of the remaining parking spots.
Even though not as quiet as we had expected we enjoyed the visit and marvelled at the skill of the engineers and workforce who built it back in the 1870s. 2500 workers were needed and most lived in temporary camps around the project. No CDM Regulations, no Health and Safety at Work legislation so it is no surprise that well over 100 workers lost their lives during the construction of this part of the railway line between Settle and Carlisle. It must have been very bleak during the winter months.
I really am disillusioned now! Mini buses and cars parked beneath it!
The viaduct is still in use and we saw several trains while we were there.
So much for yomping with heavy cameras! A few steps from the road with a mobile phone.
The weather was brighter when we returned home and this is the view from the other side.
A couple of weeks ago we had the pleasure of attending the Whit Marches in the Tameside, Oldham and Saddleworth area in North West England. These are a series of brass band competitions held in 22 towns and villages on the edge of the Pennines and date back to the 1870s. Whit Friday has traditionally been a holiday in the area. On the Friday morning the traditional church Whit Walks take place and in the evening each village holds its own brass band contest. Well over 100 bands from all over the country tour the area in coaches, visiting as many contests as they can. The bands include all levels from Championship level, including National Champions Foden’s, to school and youth bands. This year there were also bands from Canada, Iceland, Sweden and Switzerland.
At each venue each band performs two pieces – a march performed on the move, where they may be awarded marks for deportment, and a set piece performed on a temporary band stand. The adjudicators are concealed in a caravan or nearby room, awarding marks without knowing the bands’ identities.
The Whit Friday contests are a favourite event in the brass band calendar and attract thousands of people. They are often described as ‘the greatest free show on earth!’
We have been out and about this week taking a few mid-May landscapes. I only tell you this so that I can use the expression ‘mid-May landscapes’.
I first heard the description over 30 years ago, when a colleague, who was also interested in photography, told me he would be taking his mid-May landscapes the following week. Ron’s birthday was in the middle of May and each year, without fail, he would book the whole week off work. This was partly to celebrate his birthday but mainly to capture his mid-May landscapes.
Each day of that week Ron would load his car with his camera gear and set off in a different direction, towards the open countryside, sometimes with a destination in mind, but more often than not, just follow his instinct, the light, the dramatic sky or whatever else caught his eye. He would drive down roads and lanes he had never explored before and thoroughly enjoy his week of self-indulgence.
I hadn’t heard the expression until I met Ron but I immediately realised that it meant the time of the year when the leaves are new, fresh and vibrant; when the grass is lush; when the whole of nature buzzes with life and energy and the light often has a special quality about it. I thought perhaps it was a well-known term used by photographers and artist which had somehow passed me by.
That was back in pre-internet days but the term stuck with me and several years later I consulted Professor Google expecting to find a long list of famous artists or photographers who had used the description, but nothing. Perhaps it was an expression Ron had made up, or had once heard and it stuck with him just as it stuck with me and perhaps after today, with you too.
Created by the artist Andrew Sabin, The Coldstones Cut is a massive construction, described as a sculpture, which visitors can walk through and explore. The sculpture overlooks the working Coldstones Quarry, hence the name.
It is the biggest and highest piece of public artwork in Yorkshire and stands 1375 feet above sea level. Construction commenced in March 2010 and it was opened later that year. There are great views of Nidderdale which is situated in the picturesque Yorkshire Dales.
I was probably guilty of over-thinking the Coldstones Cut. In part like a Roman wall, but with modern street features, including yellow lines, alongside. Plenty of ‘whys?’ but not so many answers so the best thing to do was to just enjoy exploring it, admiring the views and remembering the importance of quarries and the part they play in the construction of so many building and roads.
If you want to see it for yourselves, The Coldstones Cut is just off the B6265 between Skipton and Pateley Bridge, postcode HG3 5BJ. Parking is available near the sculpture and admission is free.
Here in the UK we have more than half of the world’s bluebells and you can see them in woods up and down the country each spring. They are powerful magnets for photographers and artist alike, although strangely not always the easiest of subjects to photograph and capture the colour accurately.
Native bluebells are protected by the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981. It’s against the law to dig up bulbs in the wild and landowners aren’t allowed to dig them up to sell them either. The ones found on many gardens and for sale in garden centres are Spanish bluebells.
During our visit to Hilltop Farm (see rabbits, rabbits, rabbits…) we enjoyed looking round the garden and finding the many nooks and crannies to photograph. I saw this gate which attracted my attention but only when we returned home, and read the leaflet properly, did we realise this was Tom Kitten’s gate. I was intrigued by the similarity of the illustration, done by Beatrix Potter in 1907, and the gate as it is now, over 100 years later. Surely this couldn’t be the same gate? It looked in fairly good condition. Perhaps it was a more recent addition, based on that original illustration, just to satisfy the thousands of visitors, including many Japanese, who come each year. If it is the original gate, then surely the hinges, latch and wood must have been replaced many times.
I was reminded of the classic scene in ‘Only Fools and Horses’ in which Trigger claims that he’s had his road sweeper’s broom for 20 years. But then he adds that the broom has had 17 new heads and 14 new handles. “How can it be the same bloody broom then?” asks Sid the café owner. Trigger produces a picture of him and his broom and asks: “what more proof do you need?”
So how can this be the same gate? Well see the original illustration and my photograph – what more proof do you need?
We discovered Filey, a gem of a town on the Yorkshire coast, about 15 years ago and have returned several times since then. Living just about as far from the coast as possible in the UK we need an occasional fix of ‘vitamin sea’ and a week in or around Filey dispenses the required dose. We particularly enjoy walking on the long beach with its clean, firm sand. It has become our ‘standard’ for beaches and wherever we go around the world, the beach is judged on our ‘Filey scale’. It was after one such walk that we sat enjoying a coffee when this elderly couple arrived and stood there, presumably reminiscing, for quite a while. This could well be the resulting postcard to a son or daughter…