The First Day of Winter

Last night the clocks went back one hour from British Summer Time to Greenwich Meantime. This is the watershed that marks the real start of winter. From today it gets dark at about 4.30 in the afternoon. The first day is always a bonus though as there is an extra hour in bed. I took advantage of this by being out and about early, walking briskly to the seafront. Between showers I was rewarded with some lovely views. The strong northerly wind was blowing the sea into churning mass as it became constricted in Scarborough’s North Bay. With the headland outlined in bright sun it made for a couple of spectacular photos.

Later during the walk I was treated to a lovely rainbow as the sun from the south contrasted with the inky black sky in the north. It proved that although it was the first day of winter, nature has many glories to exhibit.

Penguins

No not real penguins, but our appearance after we tried on our cold weather kit. We have never had specialist outdoor clothes rather cobbling together outfits from various bits and pieces that we possessed. However we decided that as we are going to venture to the Antarctic then we had better some good protective clothing.

Mario

The first problem was that it was about twenty degrees in our house so it was difficult to experience the full effect of the clothes. As a result it got more awkward to put on each successive layer. Some of the clothes I did not even know exist before, what on earth is a neck gaiter. I don’t really know, but it certainly keeps your neck warm. We have to have two head covers, something that fits closely to the scalp, topped with a waterproof contraption with covers for the ears.

The result was that we looked like Michelin men, with just eyes and noses showing. It was certainly warm, but as you can see we will not be moving very quickly. More I think lumbering over the ice. The other realisation is that it will also take a considerable time to get dressed and undressed.

Nigel

 It is humbling to think that the next time we dress in this kit we will be in the Antarctic, looking at real penguins.

Hovingham Walk

Hovingham is a small village on the edge of the Howardian Hills, an area of outstanding natural beauty. It also home to the Worsley family, aka the Duchess and Duke of Kent. So the village is centred on their stately home or rather the understated front entrance of the building. It is a hugely picturesque village full of white stone cottages, a village green, and a stream running through the village with a ford to cross from one side to the other. If you were looking for a poster village for North Yorkshire than it is Hovingham.

It was the start and finish point for this month’s walk. As we set off across the Vale of Pickering, there was a slightly esoteric argument between Ian and Simon as to whether this was the Vale of Pickering or York, Pickering won. The walk was flat, but after recent heavy rain very wet and muddy. The fields were either showing the first signs of the winter barley crop, or were newly ploughed exposing the rich alluvial soil of this area.

We passed through two villages, Barton and Slingsby, both contained beautiful large houses and many of cottages.

In one, all the cottages had name rather than numbers, though not many had strayed from the safe “Rose Cottage” style. In Slingsby we turned south to climb up to the ridge of the Howardian Hills. From here we could look across the vale getting fine views as far as Staxton in the east and almost to Helmsley in the west. Even from a moderate height the villages looked inconsequential, the arable landscape being dominant.

At one point though a gap in the trees Castle Howard came into view, right across the ornamental lake to the front of this magnificent house.

Castle Howard in the distance!!

We were now walking through the estate lands where there was much evidence of forestry work, mainly the thinning of the forest.

Finally we crested a ridge and walked back into Hovingham and the liveliest debate of the day, pub or café for a late lunch. It was the café where we enjoyed lovely homemade sandwiches washed down by coffee and tea not beer!! The weather had been extremely kind to us so we enjoyed a great little walk.

Despair

I had not been to see the Boro play since August due to holidays and the ways of the fixture list. During that time to say the team had not set the world alight is an understatement, they had both lost and drawn with teams that they should have beaten. But your diehard football fan is not without conviction so it was almost like the start of a new season when I travelled to the ground yesterday. I was full of optimism.

It also marked the change of the seasons, for the first time I had a heavy coat on against the strong wind and frequent heavy rain showers. But still football is a winter game, best enjoyed cold as they say. What followed was a dismal performance that brought me down to earth. Once again I witnessed a side that could not force the opposition goalkeeper into a decent save. Almost inevitably there was the sucker punch as the opposition were awarded a penalty.

So that was it, so much hope, but after ninety minutes, despair. The bizarre thing about being a football fan is that before the next home game I will be optimistic again!!

Myths

Yesterday before storm Ophelia hit it was a warm morning. I had some business to do in town so I decided to walk by way of the seafront. The seafront road in Scarborough stretches for about two miles connecting the North and South Bays. It winds its way around the Castle Headland and on a warm autumn morning with few people around is an absolute joy.

Walking is a time for thought and this walk reminded me of a couple of things that first seemed unrelated, geographically and historically remote from each other. But when I started to think about it they were very much of relevance to each other. At a dinner party recently I was expounding boringly on my thoughts for pedestrianising part of the seafront, specifically the road on South Bay. I feel strongly that the dual carriageway there cuts the town off from the sea, and prevents the area being used to its full potential. I see the seafront as one large piazza full of performance spaces, cafes, and pop-up events. It would be rescued from the belching diesel fumes particularly those from superannuated open-top buses. As usual I am a prophet before my time and I was derided, particularly on the evidence free grounds that it would cause congestion in the town centre and increase journey times particularly from north to south.

I was reminded of this conversation as I read Robert Caro’s The Power Broker, a biography of Robert Moses who was responsible for re-imagining and physically re-shaping New York in the mid-Twentieth Century. Essentially it is a brilliant study of power and how power corrupts. I had read about the extension of roads along the western part of Manhattan Island. Moses believed that these roads were needed to cut journey times in the city. His opponents saw them as despoiling a natural resource that could never be re-created. The river and its environment were forever lost to New Yorkers beneath an ugly road. But the final irony is that the road quickly became jammed and journey times were not improved at all. Like hydra though as one road jammed Moses always thought the solution was just one more road!

This is particularly relevant to Scarborough seafront, the argument being that the seafront road saves time in driving from north to south. Now that maybe is true although I suspect that the gains are marginal. But what it does show is that we value our right to mobility above that of the environment. As a society we think we should have the right to travel quickly between places ignoring the interests of the majority. We do not think that the individual should adjust their behaviour to the benefit of all.

My argument is that if we act as a society we prioritise to the values of that society. Mobility is great but it is not a right particularly when it comes to speed. The additional cost of five minutes is for a few marginal, particularly when it is at the cost of dis-benefit to the majority. So surprising, as it may seem Robert Moses’ desecration of the Manhattan waterfront has huge lessons for Scarborough seafront. As I say I can be extremely boring about this.

Beautiful Autumn

On Saturday we travelled to Poole to see Marion’s parents. The afternoon was spectacular, it was very warm for October and there was little wind. I took the opportunity to walk along the promenade from Sandbanks to Bournemouth Pier. It was so warm that many were swimming in the sea, including Laura.

The ice-cream stalls were doing a roaring business. It seemed like the last hurrah of summer, certainly the last time that I would wear shorts before next spring.

The autumn season does give some wonderful effects. Returning around the bay past Evening Hill I captured a great scene as the sun set over Brownsea Island.

The hill was truly justifying its name. A group had set up a table-clothed picnic table complete with champagne to celebrate the evening, to add to the atmosphere. Later when I taxied three generations of the ladies out to dinner the conditions had the effect of giving the water a light coating of mist out of which the masts of boats poked.

Truly nature had put on a wonderful show. For me it was not quite finished as I caught the train back to Scarborough yesterday. I walked across London from Waterloo to Kings Cross. The view from Waterloo Bridge across to St. Paul’s and the City were fabulous. London looked it’s best!

The metrological effects are not quite over yet, the impending Ophelia storm combined with dust in the atmosphere from the terrible fires in Portugal gave the sky a strange washed out patina all day. Unfortunately I did not manage to capture the full impact.