Lucinda Manouch.com

[TR] Paddling in Poland

2009-05-16T21:00:00.000-07:00

LUCINDA MANOUCH'S DAILY WILDLIFE

BLOG CAN BE FOUND AT http://mysnowdoniagarden.blogspot.com/

The Ultimate Flat Water Adventure

Discovering places untouched by British Tourism is always an adventure. Time consuming journeys and battling language barriers is enough to put anyone off but in my search for family friendly paddling I think I’ve come up with the ultimate expedition adventure.
I flew into Berlin on Friday afternoon and there was a taxi waiting for me to take me the two hour drive over the border to Poland. I was heading for the town of Skwierzyna in the Lubuskie district of western Poland. The area boasts over a hundred lakes and several large rivers yet doesn’t even get a mention in any Lonely Planet guides.
So I arrived at this lovely little campsite just after 8pm to find a tent already put up for me and inside was a stove, a couple of bottles of water and to my surprise two cans of local beer, this was my kind of outfitter! There was also a 1:80,000 map of the area and a brief guide the River Obra, the main reason I had come here.
The River Obra is over 165km long and travels through the heart of western Poland. The river starts near Babimost where it flows through several lakes then winds its way up to Policko, where my story begins.
It was 10am on Saturday morning; I’d packed the tent away, sorted my kit out into dry bags and waited for Simon the Outfitter. Bang on time he arrived with what looked like a brand new boat on his roof-bars. I was so excited and very glad I hadn’t eaten breakfast as we drove, very quickly down dusty and extremely bumpy tracks to get to the river. As all my friends know, I have the silly spraydeck/ kayak fear thing going on and had been adamant on the phone to Simon before I left that I needed an open boat to do the trip. However, Simon kept saying, everyone who’d paddled this river before had always done it in a kayak and I really should consider it. But I new best (well I thought I did) and he’d succumb and bought me a brand new Warthe Canoe. It was a lovely looking boat with moulded skegs front and back, all shiny and new.
I loaded all my gear in, tent, food and water etc, had my map and GPS in front of me and said goodbye to Simon.
We’d agreed a pick up point some 70km down river, where the River Obra joins the River Warta, and were to keep in regular contact by mobile phone throughout the trip.
The paddle I was given I discovered quite quickly, was far too long for me but by modifying my stroke, to a pull and slice and never actually taking the blade out of the water, I managed ok. The temperature was high in the 80’s and the reeds on the edge of the river did little to shade me, so out came the tilly style hat (I was in the middle of nowhere, no one could see me) and a long sleeved shirt. The first few km of paddling where effortless. I was so chilled out. The river was like a forgotten millpond with incredible reflections on the water. There was a pair of young kingfishers darting to and fro in front of the boat and frogs leaping off lily pads as I floated by. By late afternoon I’d only paddled about 10km, mainly due to the lack of current, which I wasn’t expecting. By 5pm I had started looking for somewhere to camp for the night. Simon had said there were lots of places to pitch a tent but so far I hadn’t seen a get-out for a pee spot let alone somewhere to camp. I carried on further down the river and came to some sort of civilization. It was a huge building set in beautiful grounds and even had a picnic table next to the river. I should have jumped at the chance of camping here but the big building was actually an old asylum. This was the place where thousands of mentally ill and disabled people were euthanized under Hitler’s rule during the war. It is still used as an asylum to this day but obviously the regime has changed considerably by now. Although it looked like a perfect spot to camp I couldn’t help feeling uneasy and took the chance on finding another spot further along. It actually took another 4km to find one but it was worth it. It was a bit of a squeeze to pitch the tent on the tiny bank but I felt a lot safer and relaxed there. I took out my stove and made my favourite expedition meal, veg sausages and beans with instant mash potato. It tasted fantastic and it wasn’t long before I was tucked up in my bag and fell asleep. I did get woken up twice during the night by something rather large rustling around in the rubbish bag I’d left outside. I tried to see what it was but it ran off both times before I could undo the zip of the tent.
The following morning I was up and on the river by 8.30am. Again it was an easy paddle reaching the town of Miedzyrzecz by late morning. There were lots of fishermen along the banks and they were all so friendly. My pigeon polish seemed to get me by as they wished me good morning and asked where I was from. Once through the town the river became slightly more challenging with fallen branches scattered about, which the skegs of my boat got stuck on every time. I didn’t mind until a couple of German day trippers on a plastic sit on top glided over the branches and overtook me. It was a little frustrating but I wouldn’t have got all my gear on a sit on top and they were only paddling a few km from one campsite to another. Apparently this stretch of river is very popular with Polish and German holidaymakers who hire the canoes from AdventurePoland.com or by the hour from the two campsites situated next to the river. As I left civilisation behind again the feel of the river completely changed. At first I couldn’t believe how stunningly beautiful this stretch of water was. It was like paddling through an enchanted forest with the sun glimmering through the trees and white tailed eagles calling to each other high in the sky. But the feeling soon changed from awe inspiring to quite scary. The frogs suddenly disappeared and snakes appeared in their place and were swimming in the water all around my boat. There were strange noises coming from the river bank as wild boar rustled their way through the long grass. I’d been told that Lynx and Wolves still roamed Poland so every noise filled my senses and I was constantly looking over my shoulder. To make things even more interesting I was now paddling through an old untouched forest with fallen tree’s everywhere. The banks of the river where 15 metres high either side of me, so portaging just wasn’t an option. So with one eye on the snakes and another looking for things about to pounce from the trees above me I slowly dragged, pushed and prised my boat through the maze which lay before me. If only I had had a sit on top right now this would have been so easy. I think I’d have quite enjoyed chucking a virtually indestructible boat about in these conditions. But as it was I was terrified of ramming a hole straight through the fragile fibreglass shell of my canoe. I was finding this stretch of river quite tough just because I was on my own and the boat was quite heavy. However, I ploughed on and a few hours later, left the forest behind and was out in the blazing sunshine again. There was the odd tree down here too but I managed to guide my boat under most of them as I climbed over the top. By now it was getting quite late and I needed to reach the lake in time to pitch my tent before nightfall. I paddled hard and fast and almost missed seeing the beaver swimming just feet away from my boat. The canoe now came into its own and in no time at all the river merged into the beautiful lake of Bledzewskie. This is what the boat was designed for and according to my GPS I was travelling a good 11km an hour unlike the 2.4km I’d averaged through the forest. There were lots of happy voices and music coming from the woods around the lake but I didn’t see anyone. I found a nice spot in a pine forest to pitch my tent and watched a beautiful sunset go down over the water. Simon phoned to check I was ok and to see if I needed any food, water or even vodka dropping off. I’ve never met an outfitter who’d come and find you each evening and bring you beer, How cool is that? This would definitely entice a lot of my friends to come on expedition with me next time.
The following morning I was up early again but spent some time exploring the woods. To my surprise I came across a triangular wooden shack which on further inspection turned out to be a proper toilet, not a flush one obviously but after 2 days of wild camping a hole in some wood and a pit was luxury. By 8am the lake was filling up with tiny fishing boats and the odd tandem kayak. I paddled out and met a lovely Dutch couple who were paddling on the lake and they kindly offered to take some photos of me for my article. Apart from Simon these were the only English speaking people I had met throughout the entire journey. Even the lady who owned the campsite I stayed in on the first night said (I think) she had never had an English person stay their before.
So here I was on day three getting ready for the final stage of my trip. So far it had been an amazing trip even with the odd fallen tree to overcome. The scenery had been breathtaking and the wildlife incredible. I would happily take my family or even someone new to the sport on this stretch of the river but I would take Simons advice and take a kayak next time. As what they call kayaks aren’t what we call kayaks. Something has been lost in translation and their kayaks were poly-compound flat bottomed boats which have high sides but are not enclosed. Absolutely perfect for these conditions and I could have got all my gear in one!
Ok so back to day three. This didn’t go quite according to plan. It’s a long story but Simon turned out to be the brother in law of the guy who dealt with the canoe side of the company, and had never been in a canoe in his life. Marcin (the canoe guy) who happened to be away on exped in eastern Poland had left instructions for Simon which somehow got mixed up. It turned out I should have been dropped off 60km further up the river and where I was now was where I should have finished. But I didn’t find this out until much later. So unaware what lay ahead I merrily paddled the last bit of the lake towards a large dam which I had to portage (with help from a lovely old German guy who took pity on me). I put in on the other side and I ended up having to paddle through some stinking water with dead fish floating about, it really wasn’t pleasant. But soon I was back on the river and the water was moving faster, not quite grade one but it was moving. I was getting quite excited thinking I could do the final 25km in no time at all. There were a few trees but soon I had open fields either side of me. Each field had a very tall wooden tower which I presumed where bird-watching hides. However, I later learnt these where for hunters to use in shooting deer and wild boar. I saw some black woodpeckers which I’d never seen before and even heard some corncrakes. Again it was another beautiful day without a cloud in the sky and I was quite sad that this would be my last day on the water as I was enjoying it more than any other trip I’d ever done.
I’d paddled another couple of km when I came across what looked like a broken down old bridge. It took me ages to get my boat to the other side. I had to jump on the front of the canoe to push it down far enough to get under struts then climb back over the bridge, jump on the other end to get that end under. It was actually quite dangerous as the bridge felt like it would snap into pieces beneath me as I climbed back over.
The next km of river was lovely until the trees started to get thicker and I found myself paddling under a thick canopy of branches. It was quite dark under there and the temperature dropped considerably. I’d only gone a few hundreds yards when I saw my first beaver downed tree. These weren’t normal trees, like the other ones had been, these where giants. Some of them were well over a metre wide and they easily spanned the entire river. I dragged my boat over the first one and as I stood on a semi submerged trunk I looked ahead and all I could see was tree after tree blocking my route. My heart sank, it had been hard enough just getting over this one but I could see at least another 20 in front of me. So I took a few deep breaths and struggled on. Each tree was taking a good ten minutes to get over and by lunch time I was shattered. I was starting to feel like I’d never get out of there; in my mind it had became a psychological endurance test between me and the river. Everywhere I looked I was surrounded by fallen trees. There was no going back and there was no getting out so I had to carry on. I was so tired I’d started being clumsy and banged my head quite badly on broken branches I hadn’t seen. Some of the trees I managed to squeeze through. I’d have to lie flat on my back in the boat and drag myself under using my arms. I stupidly tried to do this under two trees at the same time and got stuck half way. It was terrifying. I couldn’t get up, my body was pressed between the boat and the underside of the two fallen trees and the boat was jammed against another branch. I could feel the rough bark digging into my chest. I could move my arms but the claustrophobic panic was starting to kick in. I couldn’t even reach my mobile phone to call for help. How I got out of that I don’t know. But someone must have been looking down on me from somewhere as I eventually managed to wiggle my way free. My face and chest were cut and scratched and my hands and knees where bleeding but I was ok. I was quite shook up though and sat for what seemed like hours on top of the next fallen tree trying to work out what to do next. I thought about calling Simon for help, even with the 15 meter high banks he could have found me with his GPS and he is really into his 4x4 off-roading and even runs expeditions by landrover so I’m sure he could have reached me some way or other. But that would be giving up and I didn’t want to do that, so I determinedly carried on. Every now and again I’d stop, have a mouth full of red jelly babies and wait for the sugar rush to give me the energy to get over the next tree. My next problem arose when the river split into two. It didn’t on my map but in front of me I had to make the decision. The water was running evenly into both channels and they both had fallen trees blocking the way as far as the eye could see. I didn’t have a clue which way to go. I chose to go right and prayed I wouldn’t find it to be a dead end a few km further down the river. One of the yuckiest moments was when I crouched down to get under another tree which didn’t look too bad and half way through I noticed this huge slimy fungus growing underneath which spread yellow foul smelling goo all in my hair and down my back. Not a nice sensation.
By 5pm I had had enough of all this hard work and truly wanted to cry. I’d been dragging my boat over and under trees for the best part of 8 hours solid. My hands were sore and my whole body was aching. My map was telling me I should have reached my get out point 2km back and I was starting to worry I’d missed it. By 6pm I started to hear traffic and soon I was manoeuvring my way under a big yellow and blue bridge which wasn’t on my map. I phoned Simon to see if I was anywhere near where I should be but he didn’t have a clue which bridge this could be. He offered to find me using the GPS but I said I’d carry on a little further as I still had an hour or so of daylight left. The river didn’t let up and I endured another 7km of fallen trees before I finally reached my pick up point. As soon as I saw the get out spot my body instantly gave up. I could hardly move my arms and didn’t have the strength to stand. I dragged myself onto the bank and just lay there totally and utterly exhausted. It wasn’t long before I heard the sound of Simon’s 4x4 driving down to the river. It was only then that it hit me that I’d done it. I had successfully done what we think is the first ever British Solo decent of the River Obra by canoe.
The boat was a mess. Three days earlier it had been brand new and shiny, now it was scratched all over, chunks missing out of the side, gauge marks on the top and absolutely filthy. If I’d known what the river was like I would have never taken that boat down there. In fact if I’d listened to Simon and took what they call a kayak down it would have been a completely different trip. Also thinking about it, it had been a hot summer and the water levels where lower than usual so that could have made things a little harder than usual too.
So to summarise, the river it spilt into three sections. The first from Trzciel to Meidzyrzec is easy and relaxing, even your Gran could manage this bit. The second section between Meidzyrzec and Bledzew is definitely trickier but ideal for a real family adventure. I found this bit to be the most enchanting stretch of river I have ever paddled. Even the photographs which are stunning still don’t quite capture the absolute magnificence and splendour of this unique stretch of river. The final part of the river from Bledzew to where it meets the Warta in Skwierzyna is definitely not for the faint hearted. It only takes a day but it’s a hell of a day!

Info:
Flights from £25 with easyjet or Jet2.com (flight takes less than 2 hours)
Taxi: 220 zlotes which is roughly £45 (cheap considering its well over a 100km drive) but you could get a train or bus for a fraction of that price.
Or you could take your own car and drive the entire way; it’s only an 11 hour drive from Calais.

Outfitters: ADVENTURE POLAND: http://www.adventurepoland.com/
Tel: +48 95 755 7055

Boat Hire: Kayaks & 2 seater Canadian Canoes 30 Euro a day (approx £20)
Sit on top 25 Euro a day (approx £17)
(all boat hire includes buoyancy aids, paddles and shuttle at no extra cost)
Tent hire (3 person) 5 Euro a day (approx £3.40)
Cooking equipment (gas stove, kettle & pan) 5 Euro a day (approx £3.40)
Basic fishing kit 5 Euro a day (approx £3.40)

Adventure Poland have an English speaking guide. They can arrange drop off’s and pick ups at the start and end of every day if you prefer to stay in a guest house or hotel. They can also arrange to drop off fresh food and water and even Polish vodka for you at your campsite in the evening. They also run 4x4 expeditions and do cycle hire.
A big thanks to Simon for everything. To Roman who let me sample the local delicacy of Pierogi, to Pyranha for giving me an ace River dry bag for the journey, to Max who spent 3 hours over the phone teaching me how to use my GPS and finally to my mum and my hubby for not going too ballistic with me when they realised on day two I was doing a solo decent.

CYCLING: CAERNAFON - BRYNCIR

2009-05-15T13:14:00.000-07:00

CAERNARFON - BRYNCIR - CAERNARFON ............... 24 miles/40 km ............Climb: 720 feet

This ride has to be one of the flattest rides in North Wales and is also virtually traffic free for the whole 40km. It starts in the town of Caernarfon, famous for its castle then follows the tracks of the old mountain railway. Along the way you'll cycle through some glorious countryside, you could also visit the Indigo Jones slate museum, there's a very special cafe with a Tornado (aeroplane) parked in the car park! and there's even an aviation and military museum literally alongside the track itself. This isn't a circular ride and milage is calculated there and back.

Start: Our ride starts at the lower Castle Car park. However, if you drive a little further on to the cob, then parking is free.

0.00m Leave the car park from the furthest end past the large 'Buoy shed' and past 'Tyre Gwynedd' workshop. This is the only proper bit of road you'll come across.

0.16m Turn left up the small lane, look out for the bicycle above your head. The lane does go uphill for about 30 meters but then virtually the next 20km is an unnoticeable 1% incline.

1.60m If you look out across the sea, you'll see the 'Three Companions' (mountains), on the Lleyn Peninsula.

1.7m Bont Newydd railway station. Look out for the unusual sleeper seat on your right.

2.64m Looking over to your right you'll see the golden sands of Newbourgh beach and also the forests famous for its red squirrels.
2.64m Dinas Station

2.96m First of the wooden bike gates. There's a few of these en route and apart from the one proper sized one, whoever designed them obviously had never been on a bike in is life! ok gripe over...... There's a lovely church and spire here too.

3.34m After a very short uphill you'll come to a large roundabout. The cycle track stays on a wide path which skirts around it. Your heading for the path directly opposite, its well signposted.

3.47m Go through a wooden gate onto what used to be the old main road. You can still see the old road barriers on the side.

3.57m Picnic bench. I think this is the only one for 17km.

4.47m Pub stop 'Tafarn Pennionyn'. Little bit early in the ride but they do have a nice beer garden.

5.07m The Indigo Jones Slate Museum and Cafe.
5.86m Look out for the impressive stone walls which the area is famous for.
6.26m Another sharp but very short hill.
6.31m The village of Pen Y Groes with the incredible Nantlle Mountains behind.
6.97m This is the only section where you really notice the main road but it doesn't last long.
8.46m Aerial mast on your left.
8.73m Not sure how long ago this happened but here you'll find a whole row of impressive tree roots towering the right side of the path where several very large trees have been blown over.
8.94m Crossroads. Optional diversion to Portmadog along another cycle lane.
9.07m Look out for the small reservoir on the right.
9.92m Through the wooden gate on your left hand side is Lynne's Nursery. I love this place. The cafe is literally their back garden, tea, scone and jam was £1.50. There's even a friendly robin who welcomes you as you sit down. But that's only the start of it! In their driveway parked next to the car is a real Tornado cockpit! The owners, Lynne and Brian have a passion for anything Military and especially aviation memorabilia. So much so that over the past 30 years they now have so much stuff they've opened their own museum. Yes in their garden. But we're not talking a few bits n pieces in a garden shed, this is a proper museum. Amongst the thousands of things they've collected there's a real 'Lugar' (rare German pistol), medals, radios, daggers, uniforms even a tail fin from a plane. Its truly fascinating.
11.8m Bryncir. A large water tank marks the turn around point of this ride. Although the 1% incline on the way was hardly noticeable, the 1% decent all the way back is great. Freewheelers rejoice.
24.0m Finish

Climb X Distance

ADDITIONAL INFO: Lynne and Brian have a caravan to hire situated inside their beautiful garden and nursery. It has 2 double bedrooms and is available to hire from £100-£200 a week. Call 01766 530747 for more details.

CYCLING: CAERHUN - HENRYD - CAERHUN

2009-05-10T09:57:00.000-07:00

CAERHUN - HENRYD - CAERHUN ........... Distance 8.5miles / 13.7km ............. Climb: 750 feet

A lovely short ride with fantastic views of the Conwy valley, river and estury. It starts at one of the top birdwatching spots in the area (one of the few places to see Hawfinches in Wales) and also the site of huge Roman settlement. The route also passes the famous Dutch Pancake House which is a must for any visitor to North Wales. Warning!! There is one very steep hill.

Start: Caerhyn Church Car Park, easy parking everyday except Sundays.

Leave the car park and follow the lane back down to the main road.

0.28m At the T junction turn right.

0.44m Turn right signposted Rowen.

(someone forgot to put the memory card in their camera [me] so I'm afraid the only photo from the trip was taken on a very steamed up mobile phone)

1.12m Bear Right.

1.68m At the T junction turn right.

2.29m The DUTCH PANCAKE HOUSE and Water Gardens

2.61m Turn left signposted Henryd.

2.71m Bear right.

3.49m After the good decent turn right at the T junction signposted for Henryd. The steep hill isn't far away!

4.27m If you're still breathing, Turn right at the T junction.

4.88m Turn left, the lane gradually climbs for a while but then there is a wonderful decent with views of the Conwy Estury at its finest.

6.69m At the T junction turn right, road climbs for a bit then even's out but has a short nasty incline just before the next junction.

7.47m Turn left at this T junction. You can virtually free wheel for almost a mile now.

8.27m Turn left down lane, following small sign for Caerhyn Church.

8.49m FINISH

Climb X Distance

CYCLING: Bodedern-Tregeli-Bodedern

2009-04-24T23:50:00.000-07:00

I'm currently working on a 'Cycling Tours' project. I will be listing a few of the rides on here hoping someone out there will kindly try them out for me and let me know if the distances and directions are correct and easily followed etc. Suggestions and feedback will be greatfully received > Manouch@live.co.uk.

BODEDERN -TREGELI-BODEDERN ................ 24.2 miles / 40km ................ Climb: 2000 feet

If like me you thought Anglesea was flat then be prepared for a shock, but don't fear, the stunning sceanary will soon help you forget about those burning thighs.

This ride takes you along the undulating hills of this beautiful island, through small villages, leafy lanes to single track pathways and as always a fine pub half way for rehydrating and carb loading. This trail also takes you past a traditional windmill, some superb lakes, RSPB sites, burial chambers and even a jam factory.

START: Bodedern School Car Park (free parking weekends & during school holidays, on street parking during school hours)

Turn right out of the car park.

0.36m Turn left at the T Junction

0.59m Turn right onto a quiet leafy lane with bustling hedgerows.

3.92m Turn left at the staggered cross roads towards Llanfaethlu.

4.10m Keep a look out for the old bakery memorial on your right.

4.24m Windmill and Iron age huts. Also a lovely little cafe and gift shop.

4.50m Turn right at the T junction towards Llanfaethlu.

5.20m The start of the undulating hills. There's a few 6%'ers to get you warmed up.

6.81m At the T junction turn right then

6.82m Immediately turn left towards Porth Swtan.

7.12m Turn right signposted for Llanfairynghornwy.

7.47m Hills get a little steeper. A few 10%'ers.

8.26m Eglwys Sant Fair (church).

8.34m Turn right. There's no sign but there is a red post box on the corner.

8.94m Sharp turn right, easy to miss. If you pass a 10mph sign you've missed the turning!

9.74m From here you get some amazing views of the coastline and the lagoons.

10.0m Views of the Skerries and the Light House also another hill 12% this time.

10.4m Optional diversion. Turn left down lane to see the amazing Tern Colonies on the pebble beach. (route mileages does not include this diversion).

10.8m Turn left at the T junction.

10.8m Optional diversion, turn right instead to visit the Jam Factory and a little cafe. (route mileages does not include this diversion).

12.3m Douglas Inn, opposite the junction. Refreshment stop. They serve great food and lovely cold beer. Meal for 2 and drinks around £17.00.

12.4m Back at Junction (forgetting you visited the pub). Its a staggered junction, turn right and then immediately left.

12.9m Turn right signposted Llanfechell.

15.3m Turn sharp right almost back onto yourself. Easy turning to miss although it is signposted Cerreglefn.

17.4m Village of Llanbabo with beautiful views of Llyn Alaw (Lake).

18.5m Optional diversion, Llyn Alaw Visitor Centre. (Route mileages does not include this diversion)

19.1m Turn right signposted for Llanddeusant.

20.1m At the T junction turn left for Trefor.

20.9m Llyn Llywelyn (lake).

21.6m Turn left. Signposted Bodedern (sign very overgrown and easy to miss)

23.0m Optional diversion, turn left for Burial Chamber. (Route mileages does not include this diversion)

23.3m Turn right at the T junction towards Bodedern.

24.2m Turn left onto London Road.

FINISH

Climbing X Distance

[TR] Swallows and Amazons (Coniston Water)

2009-02-04T23:30:00.000-08:00

LUCINDA MANOUCH'S DAILY WILDLIFE BLOG CAN BE FOUND AT

www.LucindasGarden.co.uk

Real Ales & Pirates

It was Saturday morning, I was sat eating my cornflakes and flicking through the December issue of CKUK, when I came across the Lakeland Adventure article about Derwent Water. I’ve been so busy this year trying to find warm countries to paddle, that I’d actually forgotten how much I use to enjoy paddling in the Lake District. So out came the maps and with a quick call to Al, to see if he was doing anything that afternoon, it was all sorted. By 12.30pm the car was packed, the boat was on the roof and we were on our way.
As we made the 3 hour trip to Cumbria I was still trying to decide which lake to visit. Some I had paddled before, some where just too small and some seemed a little tricky to get to. Then I saw Coniston water on the map and memories of playing Swallows and Amazons on the river as a child came flooding back. Author Arthur Ramsome had based the story around Coniston Water and I’d heard, the novel’s landmarks where easily identified. For those of you, who didn’t read the book or see the film, the story goes basically like this. There was John, Suzie, Titty and Roger who were on holiday there and borrowed a boat named Swallow and there was Nancy and Peggy who were local’s and sailed a dingy called Amazon. They used to meet up on Wildcat Island and have adventures revolving around, sailing, fishing and piracy.

After a slight epic involving our canoe straps sheering off on quite a hazardous stretch of road just off the M6, we finally arrived in Coniston at 3.45pm and discovered there where quite a few campsites to choose from. We decided upon Coniston Hall campsite, which by the map, looked like it had direct access to the lake. It was tricky to find and we had to do a sharp u-turn off the main road to get to it. The 16th century Hall was a very impressive building with huge chimneys and a good array of (quite stoney) camping fields to choose from. We were charged £4.50 each for camping and an extra £1.00 to launch the canoe, which seemed quite reasonable. Camping on the beach wasn’t allowed but we managed to find a lovely spot literally 30 seconds away from the waters edge so ideal for launching the boat.
We pitched the tent and within 15 minutes I was on the water. It was a stunning afternoon. The sun was shining and the lake was lovely and calm. We only had a couple of hours before it would be dark so we decided to paddle across the lake and head towards the northern end. I had read that no powered craft were allowed on the lake so I was really surprised when this Steam powered Gondola came past us crammed to bursting with passengers.

It was heading to a small pontoon which we hadn’t noticed before. I thought I could make out some picnic tables and possible a café next to the pontoon. So we followed behind and sure enough we pulled up on a little pebbly beach surrounded by tables and sun umbrellas. As we stepped out from our canoe, much to the amazement of the other customers, a waitress came over and handed us the wine menu. It was excellent. We found a table and sat drinking our Cabernet Sauvignon as we watched with amusement some other holidaymakers and small children take a great interest in our boat. It wasn’t long before the sun started to set and we had to make our way back to the campsite. We took a short cut through the Marina which was home to some beautiful sailing yachts.
That evening we enjoyed a stroll across the fields to the village of Coniston. It was one thing wanting to relive childhood memories and finding Wildcat Island but it was just as exciting finding a Micro Brewery in a 400 year old coach house in the Village. Based in the old Black Bull pub, the Coniston Brewing Company make CAMRA award winning beers like the ‘Blue Bird Bitter’ and ‘Old Man Ale’. Obviously we had to sample them all so we could determine which was the finest ale. Although after 3 glasses, I was away with the fairies and can only vaguely remember walking home through a thick mist which had descended over the fields.
The following morning I was up early and headed straight for the lake. The mist was still thick and I couldn’t even make out ‘The Old Man of Coniston’ the highest fell in the area which stands 803 meters above the west side of the lake.
We made our way the southern end of the lake and saw what looked like ‘Wildcat Island’ on the other side. It would have been good to have a copy of the map printed inside the Swallows and Amazon’s book for reference as I’m sure I recognised lots of places like, Kanchenjunga, the Pigeon Post Country and the Amazon boathouses along the way. We reached the end of the lake and started to paddle down the River Crake for a while. However the flow started to get too strong and I was worried we wouldn’t make it back up, so we turned around and headed back to the lake.

Passing a tiny island with a single tree, I persuaded Al it would make a great photo if he stood on it, and to my surprise he did. Obviously I had to paddle away and leave him there, which I found quite funny. He really didn’t seem that bothered and looked quite happy there so I soon got bored and went back to get him.
It was now nearing lunch time so we headed straight for what we now new was Wildcat Island. I was so excited. Would it be how I’d imagined it all those years ago. I have to admit I had butterflies in my belly as we approached the Island. We paddled right around the Island and finally found a little inlet which was virtually hidden by rocks. We made our way down the gap and came to a little beach just big enough for two canoes. A tiny little path led us from the beach and through some bushes until we reached a big clearing in the trees. It was just like the book. The path continued up and with a bit of a scramble I was at the highest point of the Island and through the trees I could see all the way down the lake.

We stayed on the Island for an hour or so and had some lunch and a well deserved cup of tea. It was a shame we had to get back to Wales that evening as I would have loved to have stayed the night there. I don’t know if camping is officially allowed but it’s obviously well used and there were remains of several camp fires. It was now 2.30pm and we had to get back to the tent. A breeze had got up and was going in our direction so with a make shift sail made from my cag and two paddles, we sailed all the way back to camp.
We were only away for 24 hours but I honestly felt like I’d had a proper holiday. If you have more time than I did, then there is so much more to see in the area. Coniston is an ideal base for walking and climbing in the Lake District. The lake is famous for the world water speed record set by Donald Campbell in 1955 and which sadly cost him his life when he tried to regain it in 1967. There is a memorial to him on the village green and the shops in the area are full of ‘BlueBird’ memorabilia. Down the road there is the famous Ruskin Museum, which houses the tailfin of the famous Bluebird and artwork and books from Ruskin himself. There are copper mines dating back to Jacobean times and the Tilberthwaite Slate Quarries which are worth investigating.
Rowing boats and sailing dingies can be hired next to the café at the northern end of the lake where there is also a public slip way and boat storage facilities.
If you don’t own a boat and fancy taking the children for a weekend of adventure, then ‘Outdoor Connections’ run special Swallow and Amazon weekends especially for families. They visit all the famous places from the book, dress up as pirates, paddle out to the island, make pirate pennants to fly from their boats and have an action-packed couple of days guaranteed. And finally, don’t forget the Micro Brewery. Visits around the brewery can be made by prior arrangement but if you’re happy just sampling the beers then pop into The Black Bull or The Sun Hotel, where you’ll find the famous ‘Blue Bird Bitter’ and an array of other interesting ales.

Additional Info:
Coniston Hall Campsite Tel: 01539 441223
Outdoor Connections Tel: 07875 276607 website: http://www.outdoorconnections.co.uk/
Swallows and Amazons written by Arthur Ramsome available at http://www.amazon.com/

[TR] Gulf of Gokova, Turkey

2009-02-03T23:00:00.000-08:00

Lazy days paddling the Gulf of Gokova

Leaving the tents, camp stoves and thermals behind, I set of for a week of pure relaxation. I headed out to Bodrum in Turkey and onto a 100ft wooden yacht which would sail around the Gulf of Gokova in the Aegean Sea as I sunbathed on deck and drank the endless free drinks and ate delightful Turkish cuisine. It doesn’t sound like one of my usual paddling trips but this was a padding holiday, just with a bit of a twist.
The cruise was a bargain at £205 all inclusive and with two kayaks on board it just had to be done. The flight times where horrendous, hence the cheap price, so it was very early in the morning when we arrived on the deck of the Blue Cruise Gulet in Bodrum harbour. Although I was shattered I was eager to see the kayaks they’d advertised and made my way to the front of the boat. As ever with trips abroad it’s always a lottery as to the type of boat you’ll be paddling and this was no exception. The word kayak was slightly over optimistic but in all fairness these fibreglass sit on tops where ever so comfy. They had a solid high back and although they looked dreadful, they paddled easily and where incredibly stable on the water.
After a good breakfast of scrambled eggs and salad and meeting the other folks we’d be spending the week with, the captain came up on deck with his charts. The plan was to sail for a couple of hours each morning then stop for lunch and get some paddling, snorkelling and swimming in before we set off again around 4pm to arrive at one of the remote bays and moor up for the evening, giving me another few hours of paddling before the sunset. There would be no portaging or packing up kit. The deckhands were there to do everything for you, from launching the boats to stowing them away at the end of each trip. All I had to do was get on and paddle, it sounded perfect.
We left Bodrum at 11am and sailed 30 miles to the enchanted waters of Yedi Adalar also known as the ‘seven islands’. It was an incredibly beautiful setting as we made our way from the sea into the mouth of the bay. There were little islands dotted here and there; one could easily spend a week just exploring this tiny bit of coastline alone. I made my way to the front of the boat only to find Jean and Annette (both in their late 60’s) already with paddles in their hands. It hadn’t crossed my mind that maybe someone else would want to use the boats which in hindsight was a bit silly. Luckily though they were only on the water for 15 minutes and no one else seemed eager for a paddle so hubby and I grabbed the boats and headed off. This area is surrounded by lovely little coves and pebble beaches. The water was crystal clear and I could easily see the fish and sea urchins beneath me. We bumped into some other kayakers from another yacht all the way from Canada. This was their 3rd trip to the Aegean and they were already planning their next trip. We spent a good few hours paddling round a couple of the islands and enjoying the gorgeous sunshine. Then I totally managed to ruin my paddling reputation and my modesty in one easy step. I first botched up my exit from the kayak and ended up splashing about like a fool in the sea with an upside down boat and then to top it off (literally) I walked up the steps onto the deck totally drenched, when someone kindly pointed out that my bikini top had slipped up and I was showing a lot more than I had intended. I suppose I have to be remembered for something! By 4pm it was time to set sail again but only a mile or so into a smaller bay where we moored for the evening. We paddled ashore and took a rocky path up through a pine forest. This forest is famous for its Storax (liquidambar) a rare, endangered tree from which myrrh is extracted. I’m not sure how far this trail goes but we walked for about an hour to reach the highest point and to get the most spectacular sunset view of the little islands we’d paddled around earlier. Back on the beach there was a ‘don’t stroke the seal’ sign’, which was strange as we’d not seen any seals at all. Later that evening the captain explained that a solitary seal was living in that area and had become extremely tame and friendly. I thought this sounded wonderful and imagined how amazing it would be to swim with it. However, the seal was now causing problems for the sailors as it kept climbing into their dingies and refusing to move. I still kind of hoped he would turn up so I could jump in and have a sneaky swim, but disappointingly he didn’t show. That evening we sampled some traditional Turkish Fare. We were all given a grilled fish, complete with head and teeth, which as a veggie wasn’t very tempting so I ended up having broad beans and bread for dinner. As this was an all inclusive cruise it wasn’t long before the beer and brandy started flowing. All 12 passengers soon got to know each other very well, especially Bob who ended up sleep walking naked around the lower deck looking for the toilet at 3am, followed by Liz, his wife in her shower towel desperately trying to usher him back into their cabin.
The following morning we headed off to Ballisu, 13 miles from Yedi Adalar. We were there by 11am so we had plenty of time paddling and swimming. This time I persuaded Bruce to come out in one of the boats. Even with a really bad back he paddled effortlessly around the bay, thanks to the high back design of the kayaks. We paddled along the coast and came across some cows with bells around their necks on a shingle beach, one of whom looked rather moody and started to stamp his hind leg at me as we got closer, so we decided not to land. The others were enjoying a swim and a bit of a snorkel back at the yacht. I can’t say the fish were terribly exciting to watch here but there were sea cucumbers and a fascinating car tyre with things growing off it down in the depths. Excitingly though Bruce and I came across something I’d never seen before and which made the others leap from their sunbeds to see. It was a mobile ice cream boat; the only thing missing was the music. A cornetto and calypso later and we were heading back to the yacht.
That evening we moored up in one of the coves in the English Harbour, so called after the area was used as a shelter by British warships during the Second World War. This was a great place to paddle with little surprises around each headland. We paddled straight across the bay past a small statue of a mermaid and into a small port. We were on a chocolate mission and had heard there was a shop in the vicinity. It was only just over a miles paddle to reach it, but it certainly felt a lot further and challenging than if I’d been in my sea kayak. Getting in and out of the boats here was quite nerve racking too as the water around the port was filled with unusual looking blue and white jelly fish. We got our chocolate much to the delight of Liz, our token chocoholic who seemed to be able to turn any conversation back onto cakes and chocolate within seconds. We even found a restaurant and bar at this port but the sun was about to set and we had to get back to the yacht before dark.
The following morning I was up at 6am. I had my early morning swim and even managed a solo paddle before the others woke up, which was so relaxing until the clouds came over and thunder filled the sky. When the lightening started I got a little concerned and hurriedly paddled back to the yacht. We set sail next to Cleopatra Island 6 miles away. This island is said to have gold dust in its sand, which was shipped there by Anthony for his new bride Cleopatra for their honeymoon. You have to pay £4.50 to land and there are strict rules to abide to. Strictly no towels allowed on the beach, no smoking, everyone must shower if they’d been swimming in the water and shoes and pockets must be shook out before you leave. The Island is also home to an ancient Roman amphitheatre and is well worth a visit.
Jean had a swim here and said the water felt unusually smooth and silky and when she got out her Arthritis pain in her hands and back had virtually disappeared and she could use her fingers properly again. It must be something to do with the minerals in the water but she wanted to return the next day so I’m guessing the effects didn’t last too long. The thunder storm we had that morning didn’t really clear and the Captain decided we should moor up at the port of Sogut with lots of other vessels to shelter from the storm. Wow what a storm it was. We were treated an incredible lightening show right into the night. Kaye, Dave, hubby and I took this opportunity to go to shore and discover the nightlife of Sogut. This consisted of one bar, with lots of flashing lights, a huge dance floor with disco ball, loud music and an elderly man sat in the furthest corner watching telly. We’d already had quite a few drinks on the boat so didn’t care and made full use of that dance floor. I can even remember us inventing a new dance called the ‘meercat’, probably doesn’t need much of a description and looking back I’m glad no one else was there to see. Ozer the chef off the yacht showed up for a while, he was an incredible dancer, a bit like Michael Jackson on speed, but with plenty of style.
The following morning we were moving again by 7am to make the 21mile journey to Gukertme. We paddled ashore to find a quaint Turkish village complete with little old ladies spinning and weaving rugs near the beach. There wasn’t much more to see and we were soon on our way to Kargili, a cove I’ll never forget.
It was just before lunch when I noticed what looked like 3 shark fins circling next to the boat, I got ever so excited. Dave, who does a lot of fishing, said they were sword fish, so excitedly I ran and got my goggles and underwater camera and waited for the captain to give the ok to dive in the water. Then it all turned into a nightmare for me. I was about to dive in when I saw the chef and deckhand whiz off in the dingy armed with a huge harpoon gun. They were in hot pursuit of the swordfish and where going to kill them in front of us all. I was distraught and apparently a few expletives left my mouth as I ran below deck almost in tears. I was sat there on my bed imagining lots of awful things that could accidentally happen with the harpoon and the deckhands bum when Hubby came down with some fantatic news. The cord had snapped on the harpoon and the deckhand had missed, so the fish got away safely and his harpoon was now lost at the bottom of the sea. That was such a perfect ending. It wasn’t long before I was back on my kayak again, which proved to be quite a strain as the wind and current had picked up considerable so I restricted myself to paddling in the bay. Later that evening two ladies from a neighbouring yacht had to be rescued by dingy as the wind and tide caught them out and they didn’t have the strength to get back to their yacht. For us it was another evening of eating and drinking and talking about good ole British grub especially puddings. We were all craving custard, cheesecake, apple pie, you name it we wanted it. The evening ended by us holding a raffle for the last 3 pieces of chocolate left on board the boat.
The following day we were in Kise Buku, a snorklers paradise. The fish here were so tame, instead of swimming after them, they swam around you. I haven’t a clue what all the fish were, except some had black spots on, others had bright blue stripes and down on the bottom where huge green and orange ones. This was the first proper snorkelling I’d done and I loved it. I was soon back on the kayak though and this time I had Kaye a retired school teacher with me, who’d never paddled before, ever. She was a natural and stayed out on the water exploring the sandy coves for longer than I did that day. I don’t think it’ll be long before Dave will be buying her a sit-on-top when they get home.
Our next stop was Adabogazi, a craggy bay and again fantastic for snorkelling. From the kayak I saw my first even garfish. They look like bright blue stretched out seahorses at first I thought they where eels until I saw their long pointed noses. I paddled for hours around here, meeting other kayakers from other boats along the way and swapping anecdotes from our week on the yachts. That night we had some music and limbo dancing and hubby, Bruce and Gina gave us a beautiful rendition of the Titanic theme tune sung exquisitely into wine bottle microphones. I wish we had stayed here until the end of the trip but a few people wanted to go to shore to get some shopping done so the following morning we left and ended up on Camel Beach. It sounded lovely, long golden sands with a hundred camels roaming around freely on the shore. In reality it was quite horrid. The water was full of ropes and floats so you couldn’t paddle to shore. There were jet skies thrashing about everywhere and the lovely wild camels I’d imagined, where haggard old things dressed up for the tourists to have a ride on. This stop did give me my first opportunity to try Turkish coffee though. Runny hot compost is the only way I could describe it, certainly an acquired taste. I have to admit I was quite glad to leave this beach but sadly we were now heading back to Bodrum and the end of our cruise.
This holiday was definitely like no other paddling trip I’ve ever done. The purist’s will slate it but for me it was the perfect combination of sunbathing, eating, drinking, relaxing, swimming and of course loads of paddling. All my favourite things wrapped up in a single trip.

Info: This would be a fantastic sea kayaking trip, with plenty of places to wild camp and explore. The locals are friendly and there are plenty of tiny villages on route to top up on food and water.

Blue Cruise: I booked with Thomas Cook. Normal cruise price with nice flight times £450 for a week in October.

Thanks to Onur, Ozer, Hasan and Naki for looking after us all so well. And to Kaye, Dave, Carys, Bruce, Jean, Annette, Gina, Kevin, Bob and last but not least chocoholic Liz for making each and every day so enjoyable.

Loch Eck, Scotland

2009-02-03T10:08:00.000-08:00

Have you ever sat at work and thought ‘wouldn’t it be nice to get away and go somewhere you’ve never heard of? I suppose it doesn’t sound too difficult (remote beach in the Caribbean perhaps?) but with a tiny budget and only 2 days off, my options where slightly more restricted. So out came my maps and touring books as I set myself the challenge. It wasn’t easy, there where plenty of places I’d never been to but very few I’d never heard of. That was until I came across a little blue mark on the map in the lower south west corner of Scotland. The Lake was called Loch Eck and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t find it mentioned in a single one of my canoeing books.
So Saturday afternoon hubby and I loaded the boat on the car and headed off into the unknown.
Situated in the heart of the Loch Lomand and Trossachs National park Lock Eck is about 8 miles from Dunoon, in Argyle & Bute. It was pitch black when we arrived so we booked into a local B&B which I just have to mention. It was only a 3* (going to be de-ranked to 2* as it didn’t have a sink in the bedroom) but it was the best place I’ve stayed in, in my entire life. OK the décor was nice, the beds where really comfy but what made this place special was a fridge outside the bedroom door full of chocolate! You could just help yourself to it at any time and we never got charged a penny extra for doing so. Absolute heaven it was.
Ok back to the paddling. We woke following morning, had a fantastic breakfast and drove the mile or so down the road the Loch. My first view of it totally took my breath away. The scenery was so perfect I made hubby stop 3 times in that mile so I could take photos just in case the light changed before we finally parked the car. There are plenty of lay-bys to park but I have to be honest, the one we pulled off at looked like the local ‘lover’s lane’ and not somewhere you would want to eat. But ignore that because the lake itself is stunning. Fringed by oak woods sprinkled with rowan and birch tree’s and the snow covered top of BenMore towering above you it’s hard to understand why this place isn’t teaming with tourists. Not that I’m complaining, as the peace and tranquillity was superb. The loch is only 7 miles long so we paddled close to the shore to get the most miles in. For wildlife lovers this place is fantastic for seeing the beautiful Red Squirrel in its natural habitat. The whole area is steeped in folklore, from hump back whales to nymphs and high on the slopes of Clach Bheinn, there’s the ‘Paper cave’ where the Cambells of Argyll hid papers in times of trouble. There’s even a hotel nearby called the Coylet Inn which is apparently a Ghost hunters paradise with well documented paranormal incidents happening quite frequently!
As the day wore on and we paddled along the far shore we saw plenty of places to set up camp for the evening. Little sandy beaches, tiny streams and grassy mounds beneath the tree’s and even though the area is SSSI, camping is allowed, in small numbers and only for 1 or 2 nights but no open fires. By late afternoon the weather took a turn for the worse and the beautiful vistas of the morning turned into thick grey cloud and boy did it rain. Luckily we were only a mile or so away from the car so we were soon dry and warm again and making our way back home. If you’re lucky enough to be up this way on the first Friday of the month I’ve heard there’s a great folk session at the Whistlefield Pub literally a minutes walk from the lake.

Info:
St Munn’s Old Manse B&B (the one with the chocolate)
Tel: 01369 840311 http://www.stmunnsoldmanse.com/

If you google ‘Loch Eck Leaflet’ there’s a great little map available with details about canoeing, fishing and camping in the area.

http://www.visitscotland.co.uk/

How to get there: By road from Glasgow follow the A82 along Loch Lomondside. Then follow the A83 over the Rest & Be Thankful,towards Oban, Inveraray & Dunoon. Turn onto the A815 towards Dunoon. After passing through Strachur & Glenbranter, you will reach the Loch Eck.
OS Grid Reference NS10876

My We no nah Canoe

2009-02-02T21:00:00.001-08:00

Since this site was launched, I have received so many emails asking about the beautiful ash trimmed boat which features in so many of my articles. So much so that I've decided to dedicate a whole page to it.

The canoe is a 15 foot, Prospector and is made by a company called We-no-nah. Think the Rolls Royce of the canoeing world and you're almost there. I dreamt of owning one of these boats for 7 years before I finally fulfilled my dream. In my eyes they are one of the most beautiful canoes on the market and they are a dream to paddle. You don't need a 4x4 to carry them around either, mine fits perfectly on top of my little Mini!

http://www.outdoor-active.co.uk/

Outdoor Active
Damery Works, Woodford, Berkeley, Glos. GL13 9JR
Tel: 01454 261058

Suppliers of We no nah canoes

[PO] More wildlife of Snowdonia

2009-02-02T20:00:00.000-08:00

Kestrel, Capel Curig

LUCINDA MANOUCH'S DAILY WILDLIFE BLOG CAN BE FOUND AT

http://mysnowdoniagarden.blogspot.com/

The wildlife photographs seem to be taking over,
No worries some more trip reports coming soon!

Badger, Penmachno

Jay, Capel Curig

Otter, Betws Y Coed

[TR] Sea Lochs of Mull

2009-02-02T19:00:00.000-08:00

Paddling the Sea Lochs of Mull

Our plan was to paddle around the west coast of Mull, stopping on remote beaches and camping under the stars. However, like most trips things didn't go quite to plan.The weather forecast had looked really bad before we left home so we were pleasantly surprised when we reached the ferry in Oban in the beautiful sunshine with calm seas in front of us. After paying the £60 for a return ticket to Mull, we stood on the deck of the Caledonian ferry looking out over the water, when it suddenly dawned on us for the first time, just how tiny our canoe really was and how far we had crazily planned to paddle.For our first night we had pre-booked a small guesthouse called Barn Cottage in Gruiline, only £19 a night B&B. It was surrounded by woodland and only a mile away from Loch Na Keal where we'd planned to launch our canoe and start our adventure the following day. Mrs Babbington who ran the guesthouse was great. She offered to take us and the boat down to the loch in her landrover and even said we could leave our car in the safety of her grounds whilst we were off paddling. I thought that was so nice. The following morning we were up at 6.30am and having ordered a late breakfast we decided to explore a little of the island on foot. We walked towards Loch Na Keal along a leafy single-track lane where we heard woodpeckers hammering away and saw an agile sparrowhawk darting in and out of the hedge in front of us. The loch, which is about 6 miles long, soon came into view and so did or first problem. We were hoping for a beautiful calm millpond instead we found a spitting, bubbling cauldron of white spray and huge waves. A quick call to the coastguard and our fears were confirmed - force 5-6 winds increasing to force 7 in the open sea towards Ulva where we had hoped to spend the first night camping. There's a number to call regarding camping on Ulva; they openly welcome you as long as you let them know you're coming.
Slightly disheartened at being told the bad weather was due to last several days, we carried on our walk along the loch. However, it wasn't long before a black dot appeared through the clouds and all thoughts of canoeing disappeared. It was high above us but the shape, stubby tail, huge broad wings, was unmistakeable -our first Sea Eagle. It got closer and closer and soon we could see its pure white tail and huge talons as it lunged for something just out of view. Contrary to popular belief these birds are larger than the Golden Eagle, with wing spans of just under two and half meters. I still can't get over the sheer majestic nature and presence of these birds. With smiles on our faces we walked back to the guesthouse. Over breakfast (which was so huge it took over an hour to eat all the courses) we decided to forget camping and spend all our evenings warm and dry at the B&B and settle for canoe day trips instead.That afternoon and the following day we spent driving around the rest of the island doing the touristy bit, Tobermory and Iona and getting just the briefest view of a Golden Eagle above Glen Mor. Thankfully on the third day there was a break in the weather and we headed off for Loch Scridain. What a magnificent location with Ben Mor towering 966 meters above us and 8 miles of slightly choppy water to explore. With our packed lunch and flask secured nicely in the canoe we left dry land for a full day on the water. The first part of the loch near Pennyghael is a series of tiny islands, which acted like a maze when we tried to navigate our way through them. Around this area the water does drop considerably when the tide goes out so its well worth checking tide tables first to make the most of it. It is said that Loch Scridain was carved out of the mountains by the devil who, when having an argument with someone on top of Ben Mor, was defeated and was pushed over the edge of the cliff. As he bounced down the hillside, ledges appeared where he fell, and his final fall at the base of the mountain caused such a cleft that the sea rushed in, thereby creating the loch. He must have been a huge devil! As we paddled along we realised this place is a birdwatchers paradise. There was everything from guillemots to hen harriers, something different everywhere we looked. Then, in the distance, I noticed what looked like a plastic grocery bag floating in the water. I grabbed the binoculars and to my amazement saw, coming straight towards the boat, a little Auk (no not the lord of the rings type, now that would have been an interesting tale to tell) but a tiny black and white penguin- looking thing. You should have seen me desperately trying to catch hubby's attention whilst trying not to startle the little thing. Eventually a subtle nudge with my paddle did the trick and we sat in wonder as this amazing little bird bobbed past the boat so close I could have scooped him up in my hand. I'd only ever seen photo's of them in books before, so this was truly amazing. As we paddled back to shore, we got the feeling we were being followed. Looking back we saw 3 inquisitive young otters following the canoe. They came within about 8 foot of the boat and were fantastic to watch, as they rolled, dived and played in the water around us. I was hoping to see one of them do the oyster shell-breaking thing on their belly but I think they were way too busy working out what we were doing, for stuff like that.
The following day we were up extremely early again and saw the sun rise as we walked towards Loch Ba about 30 minutes from the B&B. I would have liked to have paddled this loch but the landowner was a keen fisherman and I'd heard he didn't really like people using his land to launch boats so we decided to leave it. It was worth the walk there though as I saw a barn owl, a tawny owl, a herd of deer including an albino calf and a huge stag. I even spotted 2 sea eagles (might have been the same one twice though) all in a matter of minutes.After breakfast we drove up to Calgary Bay towards the north of the island. This has to be one of the most beautiful places in Scotland. With its golden sands and turquoise waters it could easily be mistaken for the Caribbean; well, apart from the temperature and the odd highland cow that is. Feeling Lazy, I decided to use my newly acquired canoe wheels to portage down to the water's edge. Is it me or do these wheels have a mind of their own? In the shop it sounded so simple, the instructions were straightforward but the actual doing it was impossible. I tied the canoe on as the diagram showed and for a few yards it was great but as soon as I hit a tiny bump the wheels twisted and I had to start all over again. It took ages to reach the water, which was only 200 yards from the car park. If anyone has any tips on using wheels over rough ground I'd love to hear them. Anyway, by the time we reached the water, the wind had started to pick up but the tide was coming in so we decided to risk it and launch the canoe. If fact I decided hubby should go out in the canoe and let me take some photographs of him surrounded by this stunning landscape. What a mistake! Within minutes I could see he was getting into difficulty. The wind was dragging him quickly out to sea so I started shouting and waving my arms to get him to come back to shore. Unfortunately, he thought I was shouting directions for the photographs and carried on paddling. Within 5 minutes he was a speck on the horizon. The wind was swirling and getting stronger and I was left on the beach totally helpless. I watched him struggle and get so far in then the wind would pick up and he'd be even further out than before. We were well-equipped with buoyancy aids, airbags and flares in the boat but neither of us had the experience for anything like this. Part of me wanted to swim out to him as I know two of us in the boat would get to shore easily but I also knew the chances of being swept out to sea and missing the canoe was too big a risk to take. For 40 minutes he struggled to get to dry land then finally he made it. I saw him in the distance stumble out of the canoe and collapse on the beach. For 20 minutes he lay there before he found the energy to move. It kept running through my mind all those nights I'd sat home alone wishing he wasn't spending so much time at the gym, now was so thankful that he had. As I made my way along the beach to where he lay, a beautiful male peregrine falcon flew over head. I was about to shout out and tell hubby but somehow I know he wouldn't have cared. After a long lunch and a huge reality check in the safety of canoeing on the sea we decided to head off to Loch Spelve, a sheltered loch at the south east side of the island. It's only about 4 miles long and 2 miles wide with a small part taken up by fisheries, which is best avoided, but the rest of it is stunning. It was like a millpond and just what we needed. A grey seal came up and had a good sniff around the boat then two red throated divers came into view (the feathery sort). I was so engrossed in taking photographs of the incredible landscape and the wildlife that the sun had almost set by the time we reached the shore. That evening, which was our last on the island, we spent sharing a bottle of wine on the banks of Loch Na Keal. I know we didn't do all the paddling we had planned but it was still a wonderful few days and it gives us a good excuse to return to the island and do it all again.

www.visitscotland.com/adventure

[PO] Ngorongoro Crater, Tarangire and Lake Manyara

2009-02-02T17:00:00.000-08:00

LUCINDA MANOUCH'S DAILY WILDLIFE BLOG CAN BE FOUND AT http://mysnowdoniagarden.blogspot.com/

Leopard, early morning in the Ngorongoro Crater

Superb Starling

Elephant, Lake Manyara

Lioness, Tarangire National Park

Eurasion Roller bird, Ngorongoro Crater

Baboons, Lake Manyara

Ibis flying above a heard of Wilderbeast and Zebra with the Ngorongoro Crater rim behind

Family heard of Elephants, Tarangire National Park

Zebra and Calf, Tarangire National Park

Lioness, Lake Manyara

African Sunset, Tarangire National Park

[PO] Sardinia

2009-02-02T16:00:00.000-08:00

Lucinda Invited to Photograph the Queen

2009-02-02T15:00:00.000-08:00

After winning the title of 'ITV Photographer of the Year' I was kindly invited to photograph Her Majesty the Queen, alongside Royal Photographer Arthur Edwards. I was joined by an ITV camera crew who filmed whole event which was later shown on the ITV 'This Morning' programme. What an amazing couple of days it was.

[TR] Strangford Lough, Northern Ireland

2009-02-02T13:00:00.000-08:00

The Lough of sunsets

With the launch of yet another inspirational canoe trail, Northern Ireland has recently become one of the most exciting ‘must go’ canoeing destinations in Europe. It all started back in 2005 with the launch of the Lough Erne canoe trail but now with the Blackwater, The lower Bann, Lough Neigh and the recent launch of the Strangford Lough Trail its not surprising so many people are ditching the gruelling drives up to Scotland and France and taking the 2 hour ferry over to the Green Isle instead.
My trip took place just a few weeks before the launch of the Strangford Trail so I didn’t have the maps and trail guide to follow but I still managed to discover some of the delights that Northern Ireland has to offer.
We had never taken our canoe on a ferry before so just in case we arrived at Holyhead harbour 2 hours early. We were first in the queue so the lady in the ferry port told us to go and get a coffee in the terminal building. What we didn’t realise was she meant get a coffee and come straight back to the car because twenty minutes later I looked out of the window and its total chaos outside. There were three lanes of cars and vans trying to squeeze past this little black mini which was blocking the entrance to the main boarding area for the ferry. We were so embarrassed as we scurried back to the car amidst the tooting horns when everyone realised it was our car. As we boarded the ferry the security guard stopped us, and we waited for some remark about our earlier mishap. Thankfully though the guy just looked up, pointed at our canoe, smiled and asked if we new something the Captain didn’t, then let us on our way.
The Swift ferry journey was surprisingly relaxing with a cinema, bar, café’s and a viewing platform out back to stop any boredom setting in. Just over 2 hours later and we were docking in Dublin Bay and soon making our way over the boarder to the village of Ardmillan in Killinchy. We were booked into a little guest house called Barnageeha situated on the shore of the Lough. We had incredible views of the water from our room and ignoring the twin flex wiring and 70’s avocado bathroom suite the guest house was quite nice.
We were up early the following morning and after a huge traditional breakfast, we managed to hit the hide tide perfectly and launched from the guest house’ front garden. Our hosts kindly let us leave our car in the safety of their grounds for a few days too which was really reassuring.
The weather was perfect as we paddled our way out of the bay towards our first port of call on Mahee Island.
Dating back to the 5th century the monastery ruins on Mahee are well worth a visit. You can still see the remains of the tower, a tide turbine, beautiful gardens and a sundial they used all those years ago and there’s also a nice visitors centre which is free to enter.
By the time we’d looked round, it was almost lunch time so we hopped back into the boat and paddled off towards the town of WhiteRock. There is a lightship here where if you’ve not got a garden to launch from, this is the next best place. We however, were heading past the Lightship, past Sketrick Castle and on to a place called Daft Eddy’s. This place is renowned all over Ireland for its food and views, and it deserves all the praise it gets. You can even paddle to within 30 yards of the bar (if the tides in). Luckily as we arrived there was still plenty of water, so we left the boat on the beach and made our way up the slight slope to the pub. It was such a hot day we needed lots of refreshments. So much so that we didn’t noticed the tide going out and the huge expanse of mudflats which had appeared. Obviously we considered staying in the pub until the tide came in again but I didn’t fancy sleeping in a canoe that night so we made our way round the island until we found a small slipway with still a few inches of water left.
Now we were heading for another island owned by the National Trust. Although I’m not officially allowed to mention the name in this article, if you give the NT a call they’ll happily give you permission to camp and the location. I guess camping is rotated between the islands depending on wildlife breeding seasons and the impact campers are having on the land. With over 70 islands to choose from though and the landscape changing continuously as the tide rises and falls, its well worth taking a GPS.
When we eventually arrived at the correct island, we scrambled up the steep grassy bank and set up camp at the highest point. It was a great feeling, stood on our own private island with just a few cows and two goats to share it with. As I was sat admiring the view across the Lough I noticed something unusual in the water. There were lots of little black dots appearing in the distance. As they got closer I couldn’t mistake the movements of countless kayak paddles glistening in the sun. There must have been twenty maybe thirty sea kayakers all out enjoying the sunshine. Then amidst the mass of boats I hear a voice shout ‘is that Lou?’ It was Pete who’d heard about our trip online, and he’d brought his mates from the Belfast kayak club to come and see us. It was great welcome. As sunset fell the kayakers paddled off into the orange glow on the water. However, Pete and his mate Dave opted to stay the night and we spent the night sat under a tarp drinking wine and chatting about boats and the planning of future trips.
The following morning Pete and Dave were up early and had the biggest breakfast imaginable on the go. Hubby could hardly move after the second extra large roll with double burger and bacon came his way. They certainly know how to cook over there. When we finally finished eating, and had packed up camp we paddled over to the harbour at Ringhaddy. Here we said goodbye to Pete and Dave but where soon joined by Frank another local paddler who had heard about our trip. I use the word paddler loosely as Frank had the most amazing sail rig set up on his canoe imaginable. He didn’t need a paddle. I’ve only ever used a downwind sail before but Frank’s boat could actually sail into the wind. How that works, he did try to explain but being blonde it still doesn’t seem possible in my head. Anyway off we set, hubby and I tandem paddling and Frank whizzing too and fro making the most of the strong breeze. We were now heading towards Salt Island and towards the furthest end of the Lough. It was a good 5 mile paddle and the water was quite choppy at times which added to the fun. The wildlife was wonderful. We saw so many seals pop up along side our canoe and the week before a leatherback turtle had been spotted in that area along with Basking sharks and porpoise.
It was mid afternoon when we finally reached Salt Island. We wandered over to have a look at the new canoe Bothy that has been recently renovated as part of the canoe trails initiative. The Bothy is well equipped with a wood burning stove, toilet facilities and even tables and chairs. I believe you need to book the facilities in advance though and also bring along your own supply of wood for the stove. It’s £6 a night per person or £50 a night to book it exclusively. We however, were camping again, which is free if you pitch at the other end of the island. We chose a spot which looked out towards Wee Wife Island where all the seal pups sunbathe. Hubby went off for an introduction into canoe sailing with Frank, as I had fun erecting yet another style of tent. I’ve been testing a wide range of tents over the past six months for a forthcoming review. For this trip I’d chosen a Terra nova hyperspace and a Gelert Mongoose and you may be surprised at the results.
That evening we were joined by a group of open boaters called the Piggin Paddlers, I never did ask where the name came from. They joined us for dinner and one of them kindly brought me fresh supplies of cheese and onion crisps which made my day. As the sun set once more Frank and the Piggin Paddlers headed back across the water to Killyleagh and hubby and I were left to enjoy the serenity of this beautiful island alone. During the night the wind picked up and by the time we were ready to leave in the morning it was a full blown hoolie. Being such a large Lough the conditions can resemble rough seas at times and it took all our skill and strength just to get off the beach with the huge breakers trying to force us back. I have to admit it was one heck of a paddle back and not one I’d like to do again in those conditions. As we passed White rock and made our way through the islands we encountered some serious tidal flows with some impressive standing waves which could have been fun if we’d had the strength to play. Then a little old man shouted from the bank saying ‘you don’t want to go that way’ we looked in disbelief as he went on to tell us how we had no chance in paddling against the current in our little canoe. Ok it was tough but we managed it fine and to be honest we had no choice as the guest house was through the next inlet. We only just made it back in time though and had to weave our way through the mudflats as low tide approached. With just minutes to spare (before we’d be mud bound) we managed to drag our boat back up into the garden, to the guest house. And there was our car, safely waiting to take us on our next adventure in Northern Ireland.

Strangford Lough covers over 140sq km and with sections like the Narrows (extreme tidal flows) and the Routen Wheel (series of whirlpools and boils) it should be taken seriously. However, there are plenty of canoe guides and outfitters locally who can provide guided trips if required. If you want to go it alone then take all the usual safety precautions that you would at Sea and make the most of the CanoeNI website where there’s plenty of local information, maps and guides available.

Info:
Canoe Northern Ireland website: http://www.canoeni.com/
Barnageeha Guest House Tel: 028 9754 1001
Bothy bookings: 028 4488 1204
Info on camping on NT Islands: NT warden 028 4488 1411
Ferry: http://www.irishferries.com/ (no extra charge for taking a canoe on the roof as long as your car is less than 18’ long and midweek sailings are a lot cheaper)
Toll: Remember to take a few Euro’s with you for the Toll road on the Republic side of the border.

Lucinda wins 'ITV Photographer Of The Year' 2006

2009-02-02T10:00:00.000-08:00

Photo: Lucinda at the ITV 'This Morning' studios with Fern Brittain and Philip Scholfield after winning the ITV Photographer of the Year competiton.

KIT REVIEW: Artistic Sportswear

2009-02-02T09:00:00.000-08:00

A MOUSE ATE MY KIT

A mouse ate my Kit! It all happened last week. I reached into the airing cupboard to pull out my cag , looked down and all I had in my hand was the latex cuff. Slightly puzzled I pulled out the rest of my kit bit by bit (literally). My cag was missing one arm and a waistband, the netting inside my PFD which holds the foam in place had completely disappeared and each and every one of my dry bags had holes chewed right through them and straps hanging off. Hundreds of pounds worth of kit destroyed by one tiny creature the size of my thumb. I was pretty upset for a minute until I realised it meant I could go shopping, guilt free shopping in a Paddling shop!
I was in my element, trying on everything. Getting over enthusiastic, I did get my head stuck inside a dry cag and ended up walking round the shop totally blind, arms stuck in the air calling for help.Very embarrassing.
Eventually I came across the ARTISTIC rail. I have to be honest, I hadn’t even heard of this company and cutting a long story short, because of this, I’ve been asked to write my first ever kit review about them.
They are a German based company specialising in Kayaking, rafting and canyoning kit. They’ve been around for 20 years and are quite big in Europe.
The cag. Northcape. This is the first top of the range cag I have ever owned and although quite expensive at £169.99 you seem to get a lot of cag for your money. It’s made from Tritex which feels quite thick and comes in either Navy or Fire. It’s obviously a heavy duty cag which is essential for me, not because of the extreme white water I might one day endure but because of the amount of trees and bushes I always end up getting tangled up in on my grade 2 rivers! It has a well cut roll in hood and a double waist band seal. The neoprene/latex cuffs are a little tight for me, but according to the brochure apparently these can be made bigger. The collar and neck design is genius. You velcro that over this, pull this bit up and put that bit over, its all very clever and is surprisingly unrestrictive. The best bit about this cag though is the fleece tunnel pouch pocket. It feels so snuggely warm I’d love a 5ft version to sleep in.
The trousers: Negro Pant £89.99. This is the cheapest pant in their range but it’s still better than any I’ve ever owned. They are made from Micropore 2 layer, whatever that is, and have a double neoprene seal at the ankles. The double waist is quite funny. I’m only 5’4 and could pull the inner waist up to my armpits, not sure if this is a deliberate design idea? The rest though fitted perfectly and getting a cold back will definitely be a thing of the past now. For fellow open boaters they come with removable Neoprene knee protectors which you don’t notice until you’re kneeling down. So no more need for those scruffy pieces of carry mat in our boats anymore!
The Shoes: Rodeo Session £35.00. Ok here goes my chance of Artistic sponsorship for next year. I found the shoes uncomfy. The stitching inside the back dug into my heel. They have good grips and are easy to pull on and off with specially designed tabs but they did rub. I am persevering with them as they look good and with socks they feel ok so maybe they’ll wear in, in a bit in time.
The helmet. Rodeo cap. The first helmet I’ve ever worn that doesn’t make me feel silly. A bargain at £35.00, one size fits all.
The Bouyancy aid: Orco exped. Their top of the range PFD. It cost £99.99 and is totally over the top for what I need but it looked good. They are sized on the large side. I’m a size 10/12 with big boobs and I still only needed the XS/S. It seems to have everything on it, even things I didn’t know I needed. All these bits has made it slightly heavier especially the chest harness, which I guess you could take off. It has a horizontal and vertical strap system for a good fit. It has a fixpad for flashlights, a backpack and throw carry and a split D ring as a Karabine parc, so cowtail snagging is impossible (not too sure what that bit means but it sounded good in the brochure). It has an inside pocket, 2 large front pockets and a lovely fleecey hand warming pocket for those cold winter trips. I could go on forever about the accessories, there’s even a couple I’m still flummoxed about what they’re there for. This is a buoyancy aid for white water adrenalin junkies who do things I couldn’t even watch, let alone do. I brought this PFD solely for posing value, so mine will have to be content with grade 2 rivers and lakes. I might drag it behind the boat though every now and again, so it doesn’t feel too left out.
Summery:
For a company I’d never heard of I was very impressed. The quality of design and manufacture is better than anything I have used before although I’ve never owned anything is this price bracket before either. Ok, so it’s strange that I’ve written an entire kit review without mentioning how waterproof the gear is. But in my defence, the only time my kit gets wet is when it rains or if I have a mishap getting in or out of my boat. This gear has been designed and tested for huge sea’s, falling down waterfalls and freezing cold rivers, considerably tougher conditions than I could ever honestly put it through. So apart from the shoes, I absolutely adore this kit. It’s comfy, practical and totally unrestrictive and I’m already planning on ordering the cag and pants for my hubby. Now that just leaves one thing left to do, how to catch that flippin mouse!

Artistic Kit is available from
Pro Adventure; Llangollen, Wales
Or direct from www.artistic-sportwear.de

[TR] Caledonian Canal Revisited

2009-02-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

The Great Glen, Scotland

In my continuing quest to find easy flat water adventures across the globe, I find myself retracing the paddle strokes of my very first expedition.
It’s been seven years since I last paddled the Caledonian Canal but it’s still my favourite multi-day trip in the whole of Britain. It involves paddling right across Scotland, an amazing 60 miles. Not only are you paddling from coast to coast but 24 of the miles are across the mystical and sometimes quite challenging Loch Ness.

I arrived in the village of Corpach, near Fort William in the late afternoon and headed straight down to the British waterways Office (follow the signs to the lock side), to pick up the free but essential canal licence. You can also get special canal lock loo and shower key here which by day two is an absolute luxury to use.
From there I headed up the steep road towards the row of lock gates called Neptune Staircase and followed the narrow lane till I reached a guest house called Rhiw
Goch. I chose this place especially for this article as it’s perfect for tranquillity seeking paddlers, like me. There are only 4 double/twin rooms and children aren’t allowed but what it does have is a fantastic view of the canal, Ben Nevis and all the surrounding mountains. If that wasn’t good enough, Ron the guy who runs it also has a fleet of Wenonah open boats available to hire. I guess the only downside is the portage to the canal. Just kidding, you just stroll through to the back garden, open the little wooden gate and there in front of you is the canal complete with launching pontoon. It just couldn’t get any easier.
So after an evening in the local pub and a scrumptious 3 course breakfast cooked by Ron’s wife, we made the long trek (about 3 meters) onto the pontoon. There we met a team of rowers from Oxford University who had hired boats from Ron, who where doing the same trip as us to raise money for the Cancer Research. We had not planned to be quite so focussed, with our boat full of wine and enough junk food to last a month, until a niggling feeling crept up on me. It must be the Oxford Cambridge thing that kicked in and it’s terrible to admit to, but I felt this passionate need to beat them. As I was trying to put these thoughts out of my head, Chris and Vicky, two friends from Wales joined us with their new red boat. New might not be the right word as it distinctly had a pointy out kink half way along the left side but Chris had picked it up for £50 which had to be the bargain of the year.
We loaded our boats and waved goodbye to Ron and his beautiful Springer Spaniel Sophie, when I realised that the Oxford lot had got a good half hour lead on us. I remember thinking, they had youth, rowing coaches and a passionate reason to finish the trip on their side but we had something they didn’t have. The pierce of resistance, the one thing that turns this particular trip from tough and challenging to something your gran could do on a Sunday afternoon. A set of canoe wheels and Sails!
So off we set on this first stretch of canal. Every so often we would catch a glimpse of the Oxford guy’s boats in the distance just as they rounded the next bend, which seemed to trigger the competitive natures in all of us. I’m guessing the Oxford guys were totally oblivious to our desire to overtake them and they’re probably sat reading this article now in total bewilderment. Even I feel slightly daft now remembering how important overtaking them was and the delight I felt when we caught up with them at Geirlocky, the first and most challenging portages of the trip.
We only caught up with them here as it’s quite an awkward get out, with a choice of a far too high pontoon or going through the disused lock gate and dragging the boats up the steep bank. I’ve always found the steep bank the easier option, especially as it cuts down on the walking when you reach the path. So with the help of our wheels, we were soon stood on the banks of Lock Lochy along side the Oxford Guy’s who were enjoying a little sit down after their wheel-less portage. They were a lovely bunch with hearts of gold but I still felt the need to pop my boat back on the water and head off before they had time to put their flasks away.
So here we were on Loch Lochy, 11 miles long, 500 feet deep and surrounded by thick forests stretching high into the mountains. The landscape around here has a tremendous North American Great Lakes feel about it. If you’re lucky enough you may even see one of the Ospreys who nest nearby, fishing in the loch itself.
All we saw during the day was a couple of buzzards and two little kids in kayaks, paddling way to well for their small sizes. Someone needs to tell them to make it look harder so people have respect for us intrepid explorers!
By late afternoon we were approaching the headland which separates Loch Lochy from Laggen Lock. Anywhere around here is good to camp, with choices of pebbly beaches, little wooded nooks and even golden sand if that’s to your liking. We choose a pebbly beach, with loads of driftwood to make building a fire less strenuous. The tents where soon up and the fire was blazing as we sat there waiting for it to go dark. I always find this time of day strange. I’m tired and want to go to bed but can’t because the sun’s still up. But then as soon as the sun does go down I feel wide awake again and stay up till the early hours talking complete nonsense and drinking way too much. This night was no exception. Chris got a bottle of whisky out, Al had the red wine and me being the classy chick I am, drank baileys out of a plastic water bottle. Vicky then emerged from her tent with a set of Boules!! Ok I’m not one for travelling ultra light on paddling trips but a set of Boules!! The weight issue aside, it did turn into a great game. I lost each game with great skill and efficiency and did even better at loosing playing Hattijack later in the evening. By midnight we were all huddled round the fire again, eating toasted marshmallows off pointy sticks the boys had expertly whittled for us.
The following morning we were up at 6.30am and were packed and ready to launch by 7.30am. For those of you with plenty of time and aching arm’s from paddling, there are some great Munroe’s to be bagged from here. From Glasdhoire NN254933, a pebbly beach with an old ruined cottage on, about a mile back from where we were camped, there’s a small path which joins onto the Great Glen Way Footpath. From here, with a good map you can go up the steep valley of Cam Bealach to the summit of the pass at 660m. From there you have a choice of two paths, one leading to Sron a’Choire Ghairbh and the other going to Meall na Teanga. These are both tough treks so if you’ve forgotten your walking boots, keep paddling.
Anyway for us, it was portage number two at Laggan Lock. This is a straight forward portage up a tiny incline with the luxury of real toilets and even a shower when you reach the other side. (TOP TIP: the shower rooms here are always really warm, so a great place to sit and thaw out after a night’s wild camp).
The next stretch of canal looks more like a beautiful river, with high trees either side and the only bit of sky visible is directly above. This then leads into the start of Loch Oich. This is a well sheltered and photogenic loch, which often has mystical puffs of mist floating just above the water.
Until now the weather had been really quite nice which was great for the others but I’d recently kitted myself out head to toe in new paddling gear and was desperate to try it out. So when it started to rain, I was quite happy. My new Artistic cag kept me dry and was comfy and my new negro pants worked well too. I even moved my junk food bag so I could kneel down in the boat to try the removable knee pads. I definitely made the right choice. I’d even brought my new helmet which I new I wouldn’t need but it did look good on the front on my boat.
As we reached the end of Loch Oich, I looked round to see Chris stood up in his boat reading a map and looking towards the river on our left. The River Oich is a great option if you feeling a little tired and need some white water action to motivate you. It saves about an hour padding time and is mainly grade 2 with a possible grade 3 depending on water levels. Me being the white water wimp I am, decided to continue along the canal and agreed to meet them in Fort Augustus for lunch. I have to admit I didn’t enjoy the next section of canal at all. Every now and again we’d get a glimpse of the others from over a weir and they were just sat there letting the river take them along. Al and I though, worried about how late we’d be getting to Fort Augustus where paddling like crazy. We’d taken a huge dry bag from their boat to give them some freeboard, forgetting that we still had another 3 portages to do. On the up side, I did get the chance to lend Vicky my new helmet so it has now seen its first and probably last lot of white water action.
For us though, the wind picked up and we were having to work our socks off. To make things worse we met an elderly couple leisurely walking the Great Glen Way footpath alongside the canal. We were paddling like crazy and we still struggled to keep up with them. We would just get in front of them (not that we were racing a pair of 80 year olds of course) when huge gusts of wind would hit us and leave us 20 meters behind them again and this went on for 4 very frustrating miles. The only thing that kept us from screaming was the thought of a huge bag of chips for dinner. Don’t get me wrong, this stretch of canal is lovely and if we hadn’t been rushing to meet the others and if those old codgers hadn’t looked quite so smug at the fact they were walking a lot faster than we could paddle, we would have enjoyed every minute of it.
Eventually we reached the lock gates of Fort Augustus. The pontoon on the left is the easier get out as you don’t have to struggle with a tiny metal bridge ramp. But the get out on the right has the advantage of passing a pub and a great little chippy, so obviously we took the hungry person option.
It was a heck of a struggle to get our ridiculously laden boat up the pontoon and over the ramp. I even tried to phone Chris who’d been chilling for the last hour on the banks of Loch Ness a few hundred yards away to lend a hand but his phone was switched off. We did eventually manage to get the boat onto the road. It was all well worth it as we parked the boat outside the Chippy and filled our faces with hot salty chips and cans of coke.
The Pub is virtually next door and I would have popped in if Chris had had his phone switched on but he didn’t so we made our way through the centre of the village over the swing bridge and down along side the loch gates and to the banks of Loch Ness. There waiting for us were Chris and Vicky and my newly baptised helmet. They were all slightly wet from the river trip but it sounded like they had a great time. They even saw deer on the banks of the river, which I was quite jealous about.
The first time I did this trip 7 years ago, I booked a B&B in the town here and split the trip up into 4 days but this time, time was at an essence so we needed to get going.
So off we went, over the choppy water where the River Ness meets Loch Ness and onward past Cherry Tree Island. There is a red buoy on Loch Ness which is soul destroying as you can paddle for what feels like hours without it getting any closer. It even crossed our minds that it may be a little red boat sailing away from us but eventually after what felt like an eternity we reached it and decided to have a well deserved break. By 4pm it was time to get going again and time to start looking for a camp site for the evening. The official caravan site on Loch Ness no longer accepts tents, which is a shame as there’s a bar and easy access to the beach from there but there are plenty of wild camps to choose from so on we went. The wind picked up considerably and was totally against us which made this bit quite a challenge but extremely enjoyable as the boys decided to race each other as our canoes ploughed through the waves. After about half an hour of full on racing and both Al and Chris totally exhausted but refusing to give in, we thankfully reached a large pebbly beach perfect for camping. We were only about 7 miles from Fort Augustus but the wind was so strong that if we’d carried on paddling we would have ended up going backwards. So we set up camp and made shelters from our boats for cooking and a big camp fire to dry our socks.
Meanwhile I had to get the mozzie spray out even this late in the year. The smell coming from the drying socks should have been more than sufficient to keep them away but these were tenacious little gits who’d missed the lesson were they’re told to die out by September!
We sat around the fire and ate our tea and for once we all had an early night. The following morning we were up by 7am. Chris and Al were paying for their racing antics the day before and could hardly lift their paddles from aching muscles. Luckily when we set off the wind was blowing, in our direction this time, so we rafted up, put both our sails up and laid back. At first we were gently sailing along but before long the wind had picked up to a force 6-7 and we were tearing down the loch with incredible speed. We literally only got a fleeting glimpse of the impressive Urquhart castle on our left as we zoomed by.
I guess I should say here that Loch Ness is a perfect flat water adventure until you experience Loch Ness on a windy day. The waves here can regularly reach four to five foot and if I’d had children with me in the boat I wouldn’t have been out on the water for sure. For all its beauty and mystique Loch Ness can be a dangerous place in bad weather even for experienced paddlers.
But saying that, surfing on huge waves with ferry wakes hitting you from all sides going faster than you’ve ever been in a canoe before is one heck of an adrenalin rush. The boats took in loads of water but still using the improvised cut up plastic bottle bailer I made the first time I did this trip, it was all in control. We travelled 17 miles in 3 hours which was pretty impressive. Only downside was our trip finished way too quickly. It wasn’t even lunch time when we reached Dochgarroch lock and the end of our trip. You can carry on along the canal to Inverness and then on to the sea from here but it’s not the most pleasant of stretches. There are barges and boats moored continuously either side of the canal and the water is very dirty and smelly. So whilst the scenery was still beautiful we dragged our boats up onto the pontoon and wheeled them the 100 yards around the corner to the café. The plan was for the boys to catch the Great Glen bus back to Fort William and we’d wait in the café with the boats and kit parked outside in the car park. We did this 7 years ago and the café owner was lovely and really made us feel welcome. This time however, the new owner wasn’t so paddler friendly. We made the mistake of asking the name of the café instead of calling it a restaurant which didn’t go down too well. Then we discovered it was 2 hours for the next bus. We did the decent thing and all brought a meal as we waited for the next bus which when it did turn up was full! Apparently, you need to pre book seats on these buses now, which we didn’t know about. So then we had a decision whether to wait another two hours for another bus or to phone a taxi. I first phoned Ron the outfitter who offered to come and pick the kit and boats up for £80 but didn’t have space to take the four of us back. I thought that was a bit expensive as we would still have to find or own way back to the cars so we ended up phoning a taxi. £65 and an hour later the boys were in Fort William picking up the cars. Two hours later and 5 hours in the café for Vicky and I, we eventually set off home. Shuttles have to be the hardest thing about tripping so when I returned home I made some enquires and found a fantastic taxi company who will pick you and the boats and all the kit up from the canal side and drive you all the way back to the start for £75 There’s also room for 6 people inside too. So split 6 ways it’s an absolute bargain and no waiting in a café for 5 hours! I do have to say the café owner did warm to us after a few hours. I think the fact we spent a fortune on meals, cups of coffee and cake helped.
So as a summery: This is one of those trips like the Wye and the Spey that every paddler has to do at least once in their lifetime. There’s the fantastic paddler friendly Guest House, to start the trip, canoe hire, easy put ins, simple navigation and now a straightforward solution to shuttles for the way home. Its all so easy.
P.S. The Oxford Guy’s successfully completed the trip without the aid of sails and wheels and raised an amazing £2,500 for Cancer Research. Well done guys.

INFO:
British Waterways Canal Office (key & Licence) Tel : 01463 725500
Rhiw Goch Guest House and Canoe Hire Tel: 01397 772373
Website: http://www.rhiwgoch.co.uk/ Email: Ron@RhiwGoch.co.uk
Pub at the start: The Locky. Haggis Neeps & Tatties only £6.50
Shuttle Taxi: http://www.taxi2.co.uk/ or call Nigel on 01862 842260
More info on the area, bus time tables etc. http://www.visitscotland.com/

[TR] Paddling In Portugal

2009-02-02T07:00:00.000-08:00

Canoe Free Holiday! Not a chance

A canoe free holiday, just for once that’s what we agreed. It was the end of November, hubby and I had literally just come back from an exhausting paddling trip on Rannoch Moor. In fact our past 4 holidays had all been physically hard Scottish trips with lots of wind and rain, so when I saw the words ‘a week in sunny Portugal’ staring out at me from the Travel agents window, I couldn’t resist. In I went and 10 minutes later it was all booked, sun, sea and tranquillity here we come. Excitedly, I got home and searched the Internet for info on the little fishing village where we were going to be staying. It didn’t take long before I found a website dedicated to it. I was gutted. The place looked so dreary and dull. I couldn’t find anything inspiring about the place whatsoever. What would I do for a whole week? I was going to be so bored. Then out of nowhere, a list of Portuguese Canoe outfitters appeared on my computer screen. How it got there, I’ll never know (or admit too) but there in front of me was the address of an outfitters based 20 minutes from where we were staying. It was fate. I was straight on the phone and before I new it I had booked a canoe, all the gear and even transport to the water. I was delighted, warm sunny relaxing paddling for once, now all I had to do was tell hubby.
I have to admit I was slightly apprehensive about paddling abroad. Not knowing the area, the bylaws or the language was quite nerve-racking. But Frank made everything so simple. Frank ran ‘Outdoor Tours’ based in Portomao on the Algarve. I told him on the phone the type of paddling I liked, flat water, loads of wildlife, beautiful scenery, completely stress free and he did the rest. For the slightly less adventurous he runs guided canoe tours for only 25 euro per person but hubby and I wanted to explore on our own and knowing we had some paddling experience he was more than happy to let us go it alone.
Three weeks later and there we were, sat drinking sangria in the village square waiting for Frank to pick us up. Right on time his landrover appeared with a big red Thermoplast canoe of the roof. I’ll be honest, I’ve never paddled a plastic bath before but I was so excited I was willing to give anything a go and as it turned out it wasn’t as bad as it looked. We drove along the coast to a little sandy beach called Praia Angrinha. Frank explained this would be our pick up point at the end of the day. A beautiful castle called “São João Arade” which was a perfect landmark to look out for, overlooked the beach.
We now drove inland for quite a while until we reached the village of Silves. We made our way down a little dirt track and ended up next to a picturesque roman bridge with a tranquil river flowing underneath. This was it, the start of our journey. Everything was perfect. We carefully got into the boat and we were off. I found the boat comfy enough and it wasn’t too hard to manoeuvre although hubby did keep comparing it to our Mobile Adventure Lowline we have at home, which is fitted out with a wine bottle holder and snacks tray (to expect that would have been a little too much I think).
Anyway, off we went down the river. We paddled through the village of Silves and out into the open countryside. The day was getting hotter so I put on my bikini and sunblock and laid back, letting the boat make its own way down the gently flowing river. About a mile down river we came across lots of branches and twigs in the water, that made it feel a bit like an exploration of unchartered waters. The reeds got higher on both sides so all we could see was the blue sky above and winding river in front. It was like being on the Amazon just smaller and without the crocodiles. The reeds were full of wildlife; large butterflies, kingfishers and little egrets all flying within inches of the boat. After about an hour the river started to widen and the odd telegraph pole came into view, all of which had a great big stalk sitting on top. They cocked their heads sideways in order to get a better view of the two strangers floating by in the red plastic tub. You could almost read what was going through their minds from the expressions of their faces.
It was now about midday so we decided to stop for some lunch. There were no pebbly beaches to get out onto so we ended up wedging ourselves on a small muddy bank. Out came the sandwiches and the crisps, oh a word of warning orange coloured Doritoes packets in Portugal are not cheese! Three litres of water later I realised they were Mexican chilli. Half an hour went by and it was time to get moving again. The only problem was we were firmly stuck in the mud. Only then did we remember that the river was tidal and as we’d been eating our lunch the tide had gone out and river had dropped. Using our paddles we tried to lever our way off but they just got stuck deep in the mud. There was nothing to do but for one of us to get out and push. As I was further up the bank hubby decided I’d be the best person to get out. It was disgusting. I put my leg over the side and sank in up to my calve. The suction of the mud was incredible and I was worried I’d never get out again, hubby on the other hand found it highly amusing. Finally after a lot of sweat and tears we managed to get afloat again. My shoes were ruined, so guess what hubby would be treating me to the next day J.
Further down river we came across a little bar, in the middle of nowhere. It had tables and chairs outside and even a small swimming pool. I would have done anything for a cool beer at that point but it was closed. I guess it was Christmas so I couldn’t really complain.
The river now opened up and turned into a large estuary. In the distance we could see a huge very modern looking bridge. As we got closer we saw the motorway that went over it. All the creaks and rumbles echoed beneath and I felt so vulnerable in our tiny little boat as we paddled under this huge structure. As we came out the other side I decided to take some photographs of what was, a very impressive piece of architecture, then ‘PLOP’ and we both fell silent. I’d been trying to change lenses on my camera and somehow the lens just fell overboard. I was devastated. I suppose I should be grateful it wasn’t the camera but still it was horrid watching my favourite lens which cost more than the holiday disappear into the deep gloom below.
I think I was more upset because I couldn’t take more photographs for this article and was worried it might not get published without decent shots. I’ll just have to wait and see (<>).
The last part of our trip took us through the city of Portomao. From being in the middle of nowhere we were now paddling through a busy shipping lane surrounded by tower blocks. What an amazing experience. The contrast was spellbinding and I loved every minute of it. There was so much going on all around us. Huge galleons complete with canons moored next to ultra modem gym palaces. Jet ski’s and the coastguard where whizzing about and in the middle of it all a little old man in his colourful canoe, collecting mussels from the estuary bed with long rake, totally oblivious to the noise and bustle around him.
It wasn’t long before we saw the outline of the castle high up on the cliff in the distance. We paddled slowly towards the sandy beach not wanting the day to end, but as we dragged our boat through the scattered lobster pots on the sand we were already planning our next trip back.
Frank turned up shortly after and we all went for a cold beer before he dropped us off back at our apartment. This trip is a definite must for anyone who happens to be in the Algarve this year. To be able to paddle without worrying about gear or shuttles was so liberating and it only cost 25 euro! I would like to thank Frank for such a great time.
For more info on this trip and others (he does a 3 day boating/camping excursion on the Odeimra descent, which sounds great) call Outdoor Tours/Frank 00 351 916 736 226

KIT REVIEW: Garmin Foretrex 101

2009-02-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

GARMIN FORETREX 101

I love gadgets, especially gadgets that I can justify spending money on, when hubby checks the joint bank account.
GPS’s have been around for quite a while now but few have been designed for use in canoe’s and kayaks so when I heard about the Garmin waterproof range I couldn’t wait to put them to the test.
The Foretrex 101 has to be one of the easiest GPS’s on the market to use. With just a few buttons and a simple screen, flipping from page to page couldn’t be easier. My favourite page has to be the 4 boxes where you can choose what you want to see at any one time. I had my Trip Odometer, Moving Time, Current Speed and just for fun my Max Speed all on one page. But there’s loads of other option’s like, track log, route planning, waypoints, ETA, elevation, stopping time, vertical speed (possible useful when encountering a waterfall) and a location bearing. The location bearing is what you need to use when justifying the purchase to your spouse. Obviously if you’re out in the wilderness and get into difficulty you need to know where you are quickly and accurately to get help. The fact you’ll spend most of your time having fun trying to see how fast you can go or seeing if you can find the car just by following the funny little walking man on the track log, needn’t be mentioned. Designed as a hands-free GPS, the foretrex101 comes with a Velcro wrist strap which is useful but I have to say the pins holding the strap on are not really strong enough. I stuck a piece of sticky back Velcro between the strap and the GPS to save the risk of loosing it. You can also get a cycle mount for it so you can use it on the roads and hills too. On the technical side you can download all the trip info onto your PC via a pink cable and serial USB adapter, although you’ll need to bit a handy on the old computer to get the most out of this feature.
The batteries 2 x AAA do actually last 15 hours like the spec says and it is waterproof for up to 30 minutes in 1 meter of water.
As you can probably tell I really liked this GPS. It’s no frills simplicity and price has put it high on my list of must have paddling kit for 2009.

Additional Info:
Unit Size: 8.4 x 4.3 x 2.3 cm
Screen Size: 3.6 x 2.3 cm
Weight: 78g
RRP: £99.99 (Amazon £74.78)

[TR] Rescue, Scoops and Pulleys

2009-02-02T03:00:00.000-08:00

Canoe Rescue Course

I could barely see the end of the lake through the thick mist that had descended. Our rafted up canoes had capsized in the storm leaving all four crew members swimming in the icy waters. It was critical that we got our boats upright again and quickly as the cold was setting in and I had already lost most of the feeling in my hands. Two of us managed to climb up onto the upturned boats as the other two swam underneath in the hope of finding some rope. We were in luck and soon had a long sling tied to the submerged thwart of one of the boats. We stood on top of the upturned canoes and made our way steadily to the opposite edge and leant back pulling hard with all our weight onto the sling. Slowly the boats started to lift, we lay back as far as we could then WHOOSH we fell backwards into the icy waters but managed to flip the boats upright at the same time.
Later that afternoon, whilst battling our way through some rapids, we were thrown out of our boats for a second time and tossed down river like socks in a spin cycle. We eventually reached an eddy and scrambled up the river bank and made our way through some trees to see if we could find our boat. We did, but it was pinned firmly against a huge rock, right in the middle of the fast flowing river. It was way too dangerous to swim out too as the force of the water against boat would be tremendous. After weighing up the situation we decided to make a pulley system using the throw lines and slings from the other boats which had now joined us on the river bank.
Sounds bad but these were just a couple of the scenarios we dealt with during the 2 day Canoe Rescue course held at Plas Y Brenin.

I was eating my butties on the riverbank watching some of my friends paddling my canoe, when it suddenly dawned on me that if they got into trouble now, I wouldn’t have a clue what to do to help. I’ve been paddling for years and can honestly say I’ve never got myself into a situation where a rescue, even a self rescue had been needed. I guess I’ve been really lucky but oddly I now felt so ill-equipped and unprepared, I knew immediately that I needed to do something about it. So when I arrived home, I was straight on the phone and booked myself onto a Canoe Rescue Course.
Two weeks later and I was at P.Y.B feeling quite nervous about what I had signed up for. The thought of voluntarily throwing myself into cold rivers and thrashing around in white water wasn’t my idea of a enjoyable weekend. However, I was pleasantly surprised how much fun it all was. We were all given dry-suits to start off with which was wonderful. Considering it was the end of April and I can honestly say that I didn’t feel the cold once during the two days.
Day one started with the basics. How to set up your boat, the importance of buoyancy and ways to avoid falling in, in the first place. Next, came the self rescues. It looked simple, all I had to do was grab hold of the thwarts on my boat and pull myself in. The men did it without a problem but a couple us women found it a bit tricky to start off with as our boobs kept getting in the way! We then went on to the part I really wanted learn, how to rescue other people. It was great, some the techniques they used were pure genius. Being only 5’4 I found dragging people out of the water onto my boat was virtually impossible but I was shown some amazing methods, where size and strength weren’t and issue at all. I managed to rescue Big Al who’s 6’2 and pretending to be semi conscious, out of the water all by myself. Using a technique called the ‘Scoop’ it was incredible easy. It’s hard to describe but whilst they are in the water their arm goes through their thwart and you simple lean over and scoop them up in their own boat. The course was worth every penny just for learning this technique alone.
The second day we went over to Llangollen to do some white water rescues. I have to admit to being a white water wimp but I used my nose clip and even had my goggles in my pfd (which I didn’t need) and I had no problems at all. The final part of course was based on how to retrieve boats from numerous challenging situations. From basic unmanned boat retrieval on moving water, to boats being pinned firmly against rocks. Again all the systems shown were amazingly effective and simple once you new how.

The course was so enjoyable and left me feeling confident and prepared. I still hope I never do get myself into any of the predicaments we covered but it feels great to know that if I did I’d know exactly what to do.

KIT REVIEW: Nantahala Paddle

2009-02-02T02:00:00.000-08:00

Kit Review. Split Nantahala paddle.

Taking paddling kit on planes these days seems to be getting harder and harder and for the bits you are allowed to take, additional charges can easily double the cost of your ticket. This happened to me last year when I flew over to Poland. It would have been cheaper for me to give my paddle a name and buy him a seat next to me on the plane than put him down in the hold with my other luggage. In the end I ended up hiring a paddle from the outfitter out there which was cheaper but the only one he had was 8 inches too long and weighed a ton.
During that week, as I paddled my way down the Obra, I got to thinking; what I need is a split open boat paddle, which I could pop into my normal luggage or take on the plane with me as hand luggage, either way it wouldn’t cost me anything to take it.
So, on my return I gave the guy’s at Werner/SystemX a call to see if they could make me such a paddle and to my delight they agreed. It had to be 55inchs long and split into sections less than 1 meter so it could fit easily into the above seat locker on the plane, the rest was up to them. 6 weeks later and there’s a parcel at the door for me. Excitedly I ripped open the packaging and there in two pieces was my lovely new paddle. It’s based on a Nantahala paddle, which has been cut part way down the shaft and clips together very easily with a simple push in grommet device.
It really did look the business, but when I first took it out onto the lake I was disappointed. It looked great, its power was incredible and I could turn my canoe on a pin head with it, the only problem was, I found the shaft too thick for my little hands. I couldn’t help thinking about the guy’s who’d gone to so much trouble to make it especially for me and here I was able to paddle for maybe an hour before my hands and arms tired too much to use it.
The months went on and the sunny flat calm day on the lake when I first tried the paddle became a distant memory. I was now making plans for winter in Scotland. As I was packing the car, I noticed the Nantahala in the corner and decided to take it as a spare back up. Now this is where things really changed. I’m out on Loch Ericht having been caught in the worst blizzard and winds I’ve ever encountered. My trusty old beavertail just didn’t have the power to cope and no matter how hard I paddled, it couldn’t get me out of the dangerous situation I’d now found myself in. Probably only minutes from disaster I spot my Nantahala poking up next to me. I quickly grabbed the shaft and thrust that paddle as hard as I could into the crashing waves which surrounded me. Within seconds I was in control. The boat was responding to my every move and I was flying through those waves to eventual safety. So here I am now, feeling like I owe my Nantahala an apology.
In my winter gear and my thick padded sealskins gloves on, the size of the shaft just wasn’t an issue. I have to admit, this is a great paddle for white water and in conditions where you need that extra power and control. Even better is, I can take it on expedition with me without having to take out a bank loan to pay for its travel.
Thank you guy’s at Werner/SystemX.

Werner Nantahala paddle (one piece) £139.95
Travellers Split 2 piece Nantahala £149.95
Available through systemX

(Please mention splits need to be less than 1 meter to fit in aircraft locker when ordering)

[PO] Wildlife of Snowdonia

2009-02-02T01:00:00.001-08:00

Otter, Betws Y Coed

LUCINDA MANOUCH'S DAILY WILDLIFE BLOG CAN BE FOUND AT

http://mysnowdoniagarden.blogspot.com/

Watching wildlife has been a passion of mine ever since I was a little girl. Even now, when I do get a day off at home in the mountains of Snowdonia, I'll be out there with my camera every chance I get.

Sparrow hawk, Capel Curig

Mole, Capel Curig

Jay, Capel Curig

"does my bum look big in this?"

Adder, Llynnau Mymbyr

Swallow chicks

"we want that fly!"

Glow worm, Capel Curig

Barn Owl, Capel Curig

Jelly fish, Conwy Estury

Frog, Capel Curig

Polecat, Gwydir Forest

Kestrel, Ogwen Valley

[PO] Morrocco

2009-02-02T01:00:00.000-08:00

[TR] Llangorse Lake

2009-02-01T06:00:00.000-08:00

A Weekend in Wales

Hidden away in the heart of the Brecon Beacons lays one of Wales’s paddling jewels. It is the second largest lake in Wales and also one of Britains most important canoeing sites in history.
I first heard about the magnificent Llangorse lake, from Tony Robinson on the tv show Time Team back in the early 90’s. A small island in the middle of the lake had been identified as a ‘Crannog’. An iron age, man made island, which they discovered during the programme had been a Royal residence back in early medieval times. This was all quite interesting but what really caught my attention was the mention of the prior discovery, of an old canoe underneath the water. Way back in the 1920’s a local carpenter had spotted what appeared to be a dug out canoe at the bottom of the lake. After the long dry summer of 1925, the water had receded enough and a successful excavation was made. It was in remarkable condition and can now be seen at the Brecknock museum, a few miles down the road in Brecon. Initially they thought it was a roman craft but in 1970, it was radio-carbon dated at a staggering AD800. Well over a thousand years old.
OK so enough of the history lesson and back to the trip report.
I arrived at the lake on Saturday evening and received a lovely warm welcome from the staff at the Lakeside Caravan and camping site. I pitched my tent in ‘The Orchard Field’, which was literally a minute’s walk from the water edge. There was an excellent vibe in the field with a mixture of tents and caravans and people of all ages from all parts of the country. We even had a nightingale singing for us. The campsite has an excellent Bar, mini supermarket and a café for a late morning (or early, if you have kids) fry up and they serve an excellent mug of tea.
Sunday morning I took the short walk down to the lake and met Tabby, Callum, Jules and Tom who live in the nearby village and had come to show me around and keep me company on the first part of my journey. At the lakeside there is a large Round House visitor’s centre which is full of information and pictures about the lake and surrounding area. There’s a replica of the dug out canoe which was found in the lake and you can even buy some bird food and feed the very friendly ducks and swans. You can hire everything here from fishing boats to pedaloes, lasers to mountain bikes. I chose a Canadian 16 foot canoe which cost £20 for the whole day. A bargain considering that included hire of the paddles and buoyancy aids. Boats can also be hired by the ½ hour for a mere £4.00 so ideal for families wanting to give paddling a go for the first time or for carbon footprint fighting folk who like me, travel there by train and bringing their own boat isn’t a practical option.
The section of water around the Round House was bustling with different craft. There was one lady trying her wind surfer out for the very first time, a couple of quite large guy’s squashed into a tiny Laser that they’d just restored after 8 years and then there were the canoeists, the pedeloists (if there’s such a word) and some kayakers. I stayed around here for a while with the kids and we had a fantastic time. We’d tried loads of balancing games which ultimately ended up with all the kids getting totally drenched. It was great to see teenagers having so much fun on the water and not sat transfixed behind the latest video game on tv (gosh I sounded like my mother then).
Anyway, after an hour or so with the kids I decided to leave the bustle behind and paddled through the crowds past the Crannog and towards the furthest end of the lake. The scenery is stunning around here and the lake soon become peaceful, apart from the odd water skier that sped past every now and again. About half way down the western side, not far from where the ancient canoe was found, there’s a couple of small beaches ideal for a picnic. There is also a very rickety looking landing platform floating on the lake if you fancy stopping somewhere slightly different for lunch. I chose the beach as a pair of Swans had bagged the platform and I wasn’t feeling brave enough to argue with them.
As I ate my lunch I noticed some otter tracks on the beach and the remains of their last meal shoved between two rocks. I’d heard there was a good population of otters here however they tend to be nocturnal so imagine my delight when, just 20 meters away I spotted one coming out of the water. I got my camera out which, sadly disturbed it and he soon disappeared back into the lake, leaving me with only one slightly blurry photo.
After lunch I paddled to the furthest end of the lake which was a popular venue for fishing boats. According to one of the fishermen, the largest pike ever caught by rod in the UK was caught here, back in 1846 and weighed an almighty 68lbs!
Everyone I’ve met on this trip have been so friendly, even the fishermen! It really is a lovely part of the world.
I carried on around the lake past a church and some fields and then some towering high reeds. Unfortunately, landing on the eastern and southern end of the lake isn’t allowed as the reed beds and shore line are designated SSSI areas. A pain if you need to pee but fantastic if you enjoy bird-watching and looking out for rare mammals like the water vole.
I arrived back at the Round House in late afternoon, totally relaxed and happy from a wonderful day on the water but it was time for me to leave this fascinating lake.
The history which surrounds you here is incredible. To paddle, where our forefathers had paddled thousands of years ago and to sit in your boat knowing they had sat in their boats in that exact spot is absolutely mind blowing.

Useful Info
BRECKNOCK MUSEUM
The original dug-out canoe is on display just down the road in Brecknock Museum, Brecon. It is incredibly well preserved and well worth a visit.
Opening times: April-Sept Monday–Saturday 10-5pm. Closed between 1-2pm on Saturdays. Tel: 01874 624121. Admission: adults £1.00 children 50p

LAKESIDE CARAVAN PARK.
Caravan hire from £50.00 per night.
Camping £5.75 - £6.75 per adult per night. and children £3.25 each.
Open March til October
Tel: 01874 658226 Email: holidays@llangorselake.co.uk
Website: http://www.llangorselake.co.uk/

FISHING
The lake is purely a coarse fishery offering bream, roach, perch, pike and some unusually large eels. All fish must be returned. Bank fishing is not allowed but hire boats are nearly always available. Permits are required. (small children can stand on the small jetty around the corner from the roundhouse with their little rods and nets)

BOAT HIRE
Kayaks £5.00/ half an hour and £18.00 per day, Canadian Canoes £10.00 per half an hour and £26.00 per day. Rowing boats are £25.00 per day.Kayaks £4.00 ½ hour £15.00 a day
Please go to the Boat Hire Cabin or the reception at Lakeside Caravan Park for lauching permits and boat hire

Many thanks to Melanie from Lakeside Caravan Park and the staff at Brecknock museum.

[TR] Ullswater

2009-02-01T05:00:00.000-08:00

24 hours in Ullswater

Ullswater is the second largest lake in the English Lake District, it gently curves through eight miles of beautiful mountain scenery and is an ideal location for a day or two's paddling.

We arrived just before midday at Pooley Bridge at the northern tip of the lake. Not knowing the area we decided to pop into the local tourist info centre to find out about access and camping. They were so helpful. We found out there were countless lay-by’s where we could leave the car and most had little paths leading to the water edge, ideal for launching our 16-foot mobile adventure canoe. We were given a leaflet called "ULLSWATER, A LAKE USER'S GUIDE which outlined privately owned land and the public access area's, which saved us any awkward farmer/paddler situations. We parked our car in a large lay-by just past the Ullswater Outward-bound centre on the A592. Just as they said, there was a short path leading to a lovely pebbly beach where we kitted out our canoe and started our trip. The weather was stunning and the lake was mirror like, a far cry from the wind and rain we had left only a few hours earlier in Wales. We paddled, well more like glided down towards the southern end of the lake. We came across a beautiful little island covered in bluebells and blossom. Our map said it was called Norfolk Island and stated quite clearly that landing on this island was prohibited during April and May. Curiosity got the better of us and we paddled in close to see what was so special. We didn't land and we couldn't see anything from the boat so we carried on our way towards the village of Glenridding. Looking over to the opposite side of the lake we saw the most picturesque camping spot imaginable. It was surrounded by trees, with its own little beach. It even had grass to pitch a tent and a tiny stream for water. It was perfect, until I checked the map and by my reckoning it was just on the boarder of some private land. It was a shame but I didn't fancy trespassing so on we paddled in search of our bivvy site. We passed an official campsite at the very end of the lake which looked lovely but i fancied a bit of wild camping so we did a U turn and made our way up the other side of the lake. We soon came across the idyllic spot we'd seen earlier. Imagine how I felt when i saw 2 canoes and a tent pitched right there. Had my map reading been that bad? Slightly disheartened we continued up the lake, passing the other side of Norfolk Island (still couldn't see anything on there) and landed on a little stony beach, which was to be our camp for the night. There was no grass to pitch a tent so we opted for a tarpaulin tied between two large rocks, we put our mats underneath and hoped it wouldn't get too cold during the night. We decided to stretch our legs a bit and climbed the steep grassy slope, which towered above the beach. It was a hard scramble trying to follow old sheep trails but well worth it. From the top we could see the entire lake and the golden sands of silver point, which was literally round the next corner but had been hidden from our camp. It was at this point, as I was admiring the view and crouching for a desperately needed pee, that I discovered something I'd never seen before, a 'Sheep Tick'. There on my thigh with its head firmly stuck in my leg and quite oblivious to the horror it was causing. I gave it a swipe but it didn't budge. I suddenly had flashbacks to my childhood where I remembered being told never to pull them straight out as there heads come off and rot and festered under the skin. So what was I to do, I really didn’t want to shout for help as I wasn't really appropriately dressed. I finally found two small pieces of wood and made a sort of clamp around its bulbous body, I took a deep breath and twisted and pulled hard. It came out intact, still wriggling its little black claw like legs. What an experience. I was really quite glad to get out of the grass and back that lovely pebbly beach. The light soon faded and it did get a little chilly, so I snuggled up in my sleeping bag to eat my instant mash and baked bean supper. Then out of nowhere we heard faint screeching and squawking and it was coming our way. Within minutes the entire of Norfolk Island, which was about 1/4 mile from our beach, was covered in Cormorants. You've never heard anything like it. Again we thought about the idyllic spot, which we'd missed out on because of my mistake and how we were unlikely to get any sleep if this racket continued. Then, just above the noise of the birds we heard voices. It was pretty dark but we could make out the shapes of two canoes paddling speedily along with the occupants having an almighty argument. To our delight (sounds cruel I know) it was the idyllic camp pinchers, who had been moved on by the farmer who I expect deliberately waited until nightfall to express his feelings for maximum effect. With my map-reading prowess restored we decided to get some sleep. The bird’s squawked on and off all night but we soon got used to it. However, what did keep me awake was the thing I felt crawling inside my sleeping bag in the middle of the night, which went crunch when I hit it. I didn't have the nerve to look to see what it was. We were woken about 6.30am by the chorus of Cormorants flying off into the distance, a pretty magnificent sight even at that time in the morning. The lake was covered in a low mist, which chilled the air but filled us with a sense of awe at the magical landscape, which lay before us. After breakfast and after washing the silvery slug trails, which had appeared in my hair overnight, we launched the boat once more and headed towards the northern end of the lake where we hoped to get some lunch. Just over half way along the lake is Howtown, a delightful little village that is a landing point for two 19th Century steamers! Our map said keep clear of them; give them right of way near the piers and to avoid collisions. Pretty sensible if you ask me. To reach the end of the lake you do have to paddle past a steamer pier, which is scary, especially in the mist. The don't slow down for you so paddle fast and be prepared for a huge wake which follows behind them. By lunchtime we had reached Pooley Bridge but the weather had turned wet and windy so we decided to ditch the lunch idea and make our way back to the car. The wind started to increase a bit so we put our sail up, laid back and enjoyed the scenery. We could see the tiny silhouettes of people making their way down the surrounding mountains trying to escape the thickening cloud. There were a few fishermen on the lake, one of which told us of an unusual fish called a SKELLY, some sort of freshwater Herring apparently, which lived way down in the deepest parts of the lake. You learn new things every day!It wasn't long till we were back at the car. We'd only been gone 24 hours but I honestly felt as if I’d been away on holiday all week. If you have a couple of days off and feel the need to get away from it all then Ullswater is definitely the place to go.

[TR] Warm Champagne and Flat Beer Touring

2009-02-01T04:00:00.000-08:00

Essential Guide To Paddling

Most of us will agree that alcohol whilst paddling is not a good mix mainly because of the danger aspect but also the major spillage factor.
However, after a good day on the water there is nothing better than a nice cold beer or a glass of wine as we relax on the bank reflecting on our day’s endeavours.
So as a journalist I decided to do some in-depth research into the science of alcoholic beverage transportation and consumption within the realms of paddling. It’s been a tough assignment but after weeks of suffering, having to drink lots of beer and spending many evenings on remote beaches, drinking wine and watching beautiful sunsets, these are the results.
I started with White Wine and Champagne. Placing them in a dry bag just wasn’t good enough. Obviously they needed to be kept chilled so towing them along in the water seemed ideal. The difficulty came when I tried to tie a cord around the neck of the bottle. A clove hitch seemed the natural choice but after loosing a bottle to the depths of a lake (a very distressing moment) I learnt, they do have a tendency to slip. So after paddling for miles towing bottles of different shapes and sizes and surfing the net for different types of knot, I discovered the Constriction Knot. It’s one of the strongest and most reliable of the hitch knots and perfect for tying around bottles.

How to tie a Constriction Knot:
Get a piece of cord. Holding each of the standing ends in the fingers of each hand; stick your left index finger up through the loop from below and your right index finger down through the loop from above. Rotate your right hand in the direction you would tighten a screw, allowing the lines to cross between fingers. Bring the ends of your index fingers together and slide the knot off the right finger and onto the left finger and slide over the neck of the bottle and tighten.
I tried this knot using cord, shoe laces and fishing wire and all worked perfectly. My only problem with dragging the wine this way was remembering to pull it back into the boat before I banged it against the rocks as I reached the shore. (This form of transportation is also not suitable in white water situations)
My next round of research was on cans of beer. Again I thought dragging them behind the boat would be great but in practice it didn’t work. Although they were chilled nicely, the momentum of the paddling shook them up too much and they sprayed everywhere when opened. So after having to drink far too many half cans of beer I came to the conclusion the best way to chill them, was to wait until I was on dry land and lay them back in the water for ten minutes, whilst I set up camp. However, if you’re only away for a single night, 2 freezer packs placed in a sealable plastic barrel works well. I managed to fit in 20 large cans/56 stumpies in one barrel alone. The beer stayed lovely and cold for 6 hours. The freezer packs were still half frozen by then so I’m sure the beer would have stayed cool longer if we hadn’t drunk it all.
Finally I tackled the red wine issue. After buying several bottles, putting some in dry bags and others just shoved in the boat, I discovered the best way of carrying red wine is to buy the boxed version. Usually I’d scorn at such a thing but for canoeing its ideal. Firstly ditch the box itself and you’re left with the wine filled silver bag inside. This bag then fits perfectly on top of the front airbag under the lacing where you can leave it to warm nicely during the day. The empty silver bag also turns into a make shift water carrier or even a comfy pillow when inflated. Which is an excellent excuse for having to finish it all off before hitting the sack.

It’s been tough assignment but someone had to do it. No more flat Champagne or half empty luke warm cans of beer need to be endured. Can I relax now my job is done? No, my research goes on. Chocolate, Spirits and ice cream next, I think. Wish me luck

[TR] Kayaking Virgins hit Mallorca

2009-02-01T03:00:00.000-08:00

Mallorca Day Trip

We were all in the pub looking through my latest kayaking photographs from Mallorca taken the week before, when to my surprise 2 of my non boating friends, the girliest girls you could ever imagine decided they wanted to go kayaking. Whether it was sunshine, the beers on the beach or just a good excuse to get away, I don’t know but they were adamant they wanted to go. So that same evening I gave the outfitters in Mallorca a ring, then went online and booked some flights with bmi baby £48.00 return including taxes.
Two weeks later and we were there. We had a couple of days on the beach topping up our tans and enjoying the nightlife, before Pete from Tramuntana Pursuits (the outfitters) came and met us. He picked us up from the hotel and drove us to Illetas, a small sandy bay on the south side of Mallorca.
First, we all helped to get the boats off the minibus, well except for Suzie who was worried about breaking one of her newly manicured nails and knowing how much they cost, we couldn’t blame her.
We laid the boats on the sand with all the other kit and Pete gave us a run down on what everything was and what it did. The boats were virtually brand new and even though the buoyancy aides were not very flattering, they were a lovely colour of blue.
One by one Pete got us into our boats and ran through the basic strokes and safety instructions. Then off we went, 2 kayak virgins, Pete and me trailing behind trying to take some photographs. The hangovers we had gained through a wild night in Magaluf, the night before soon disappeared as we paddled out towards Cala Falco. The weather was stunning, so warm and not a cloud in the sky. We took things easy at first as Pete subtly taught us some basic skills. So it was a good few hours before we reached Cala Falco, where we stopped for a rest and a well deserved drink. In the distance we saw the Fast Cat which goes out bound for Barcelona. Pete told us how he once managed to ride the surf behind it for 500 meters. It sounds amazing fun and a great adrenalin buzz but I’d be too scared to even think about doing it myself.
It was nearly midday when we set off again for the short journey to Porta Velles. On the way we came across a fantastic cave. We all paddled into it one by one, stunned by the incredible turquoise water which shone beneath us. We spent a good ten minutes exploring and taking photographs inside. As we left the cave the heat suddenly hit us and I was totally dazzled by the sun. At this point I realized I’d left my sunglasses in the minibus which was back in Illetas. Slightly annoying but at least I wouldn’t end up with the ‘Panda Eye’ tan which I ended up with the last time I was kayaking here.
We paddled on to the pretty cove of Porta Velles where we stopped for lunch. In the cliffs are huge caverns dating from Roman times, enlarged over the centuries by lots of different people. Boats make the short excursion from the pier at Magaluf to here, so it’s not always that peaceful. We all stripped off and topped up our tans and indulged in a few small glasses of beer. Just as the heat was getting unbearable Pete appeared with Snorkels and flippers for us all. What an excellent surprise for the day, I couldn’t wait to get into the crystal clear water. Suzie had forgotten to pack her waterproof mascara so decided to have a ‘head out of the water’ swim instead. Clair and I saw some amazing fish, Pete told us the names but I can’t remember them now. Some looked liked miniature sharks with black tails and blue stripes and they were ever so tame.
Our time there seemed to fly by and it was soon mid afternoon and Pete said we had better make our way back to Illetas.
We all got back into our boats and headed off back along the coast. In the distance we could see Magaluf. The wide sandy beach was a solid block of bronzed bodies. We had spent a night in Magaluf amongst the crowds of drunken Brits. There were vast bars and discos and café’s offering full English breakfasts at 3am, with widescreen televised football playing 24 hours a day. During the day this place is tourism overkill with some of the trashiest shops imaginable but by night it’s PARTY PARTY PARTY.
We soon left Magaluf in the distance and were surrounded by beautiful yachts in what seemed to be a millionaires playground. We certainly caught the attention of a couple of passing yachts and Suzie and I were invited on board for some champagne but we declined and carried on our journey.
We finally arrived back in Illetas after having the most enjoyable time. We were all really tired but had huge smiles as we recounted the day’s events. We all gave Pete a huge hug and thanked him for an amazing day as he dropped us back at the hotel. The girls have definitely got the sea kayaking bug now but whether that will last when they try a day out off the Welsh coast, battling huge swells and freezing water I have my doubts. So I guess we’ll just have to go back to sunny old Mallorca again, I think I like that idea.

Outfitters: http://www.tramuntana-pursuits.com/ or telephone 0034 971 404 222

[TR] Bikini's, Lobster Pots and Pancakes

2009-02-01T02:00:00.000-08:00

PADDLING IN PORTUGAL

Its 6 o’clock in the evening, it’s the middle of winter and I’m sat here under a palm tree drinking cocktails with names I can’t pronounce. I’m here in Alvor, a traditional Portuguese fishing village relatively new to tourism but already home to a selection of excellent restaurants and most importantly, a canoe outfitters.
My day started really early (for me) at 9.30am, when I met Frank who runs ‘Outdoor Tours’outfitters on the promenade. There I was in my bikini top and flip flops all excited for the day ahead and here was Frank all wrapped up in his big fleece, jumper and long trousers. My attire obviously amused him and seemingly caught the attention of the local fishermen who waved and smiled as they walked past with their big lobster pots and fishing nets.
The little village of Alvor has its own natural lagoon filled with fishing and leisure boats, which opens out onto the Atlantic Ocean. Further along there are long open beaches and a number of small coves tucked under the cliffs. We decided to launch off one of the beautiful golden beaches where the surf was a little intimidating, but Frank assured me was fine. I was feeling a little chilly, especially when the sun disappeared behind a large cloud, so on went my cag and trousers and the idea of a suntan disappeared.
I sat there in my boat, as Frank, up to his waist in water, braved the waves to push me out to sea. It was fantastic. I had never been out in such big surf before. It gave me an incredible buzz being amongst it all but I have to admit feeling happier when we left the white frothy stuff behind. The swell became larger but smoother the further out we went, which made it a nice easy paddle and I even braved getting my camera out. The rock formations all along the coast were like nothing I had seen before. Colossal pyramid shaped rocks pushing their way out of the crystal clear waters. The cliffs seemed to radiate a warm orange glow from the suns rays and then there, in the distance a school of dolphins. I could have watched them all day but it was now lunch time and time to head to shore.
Back towards the white frothy stuff again, I really wasn’t looking forward to this bit at all. I had managed to stay dry all morning and even though the sun was now out, I didn’t want to get wet. Frank smiled as I expressed my concern, he said “it’d be fine” with glint in his eye. I tentatively paddled towards the shore with worried glances behind waiting for that inevitable wave to get me and then it came. I went higher and higher as this wave grew and grew. It got faster and faster and then, just for one second….. I was surfing. I was on the crest of a wave and it felt great. I wanted this feeling to go on and on, it was awesome. I turned my head to see if Frank was watching. Then, “Ouch” the next thing I new, my boat was being twisted round, flipped up, turned over and hurled towards the beach. I was under the water having being hit on the head by my paddle. I tried to stand up only to be knocked down by the next wave. I tried again, this time I got to my feet, had chance to take a breath just before another huge wave came and wiped me out again. It took several attempts and a good trashing from the sea before I finally managed to crawl ashore. After a few minutes reflection on the beach, I couldn’t decide if that had been the best few seconds of my life or worst, either way it was lunch time and off we went.
The food in Alvor is marvellous. Last night I had the most delicious Vegi Korma I’ve ever tasted at the ‘Indan Hut 2’ just off the promenade (sorry, but it was so good, it had to get a mention).
For lunch we chose the Windsurfers café situated on the beach. It had stunning views and served the most perfectly presented pancakes I’ve ever seen. The freshly caught Sardine’s in a toastie were out of this world too according the others. As we ate and watched the kite surfers playing on the waves, we discussed our plans for the afternoon. Frank had been booked by some other clients so I decided to hire one of his open boats and potter around the harbour and up the Estuary for a few hours on my own. It turned out to be a great decision. I picked up the canoe from the harbour and paddled my way carefully through the criss-cross of shore lines appearing in every direction from beneath the beautifully painted fishing boats. The tide was still coming in and the canoe was a little harder to paddle than my lovely Prospector back home, so it was a bit of a hack to get out onto the estuary, but it was worth it. As I paddled along I saw some remarkable birds like the Spoonbill which are so unusual they look like cartoon characters. Further along I saw a turtle as he swam straight past me totally oblivious to my presence. About 1km further on I stopped on a small beach. I had seen what looked like an old canoe beached up but on closer inspection it was some sort of homemade catamaran. As I sat there wondering who had built it and if it would still float, I noticed two caves in the cliffs above the beach. There were clothes and cooking implements scattered all around. Someone was actually living there and by the looks of it had done so for a very long time. This was probably his boat I was sat on. I really wanted to find out more but I didn’t want to intrude and time was getting on, so I got back in my boat and gently paddled back towards the village. The scenery was so stunning and so tranquil that I almost didn’t notice the 50 or so Flamingos (Yes Flamingos) that had landed ahead and blocked my way back to the harbour. What an amazing sight and so close too, only thing was, I didn’t know what to do. I needed to get back to the harbour before dark and the sun was already starting to set. There I was with 50 pink, (well more a dirty whitish colour really) large, imposing and very long beaked birds in front of me. It’s not a scenario that’s ever come up in any paddling books I’ve read. So I decided the safest option was to just drift through. I crouched down as low as I could whilst still being able to peek over the side and hoped the tide would do the rest. Being so close to so many exotic creatures, not knowing if they would attack or ignore me was absolutely mind-blowing. As I got closer the flock seemed to move from side to side, then just like gates magically opening, they separated and there in front of me lay a clear way through the entire flock. As I drifted through, too scared to even breathe I imagined what this must look like from the shore and hoped someone somewhere would have their camcorder out and were capturing this moment.
Now here I am sat back on the shore drinking my cocktail. I’m watching the last rays of sunshine disappear behind the palm trees and beneath the sea. I think a trip back in the summer is definitely in my plans, with temperatures in the high 20’s and best of all, water that is lovely and warm.
I can’t promise the Flamingos or the Turtles but if you’re after a great day out paddling around some of Europe’s most spectacular coastline then Alvor is a great place to start.

More details : http://www.outdoor-tours.net/english_version.htm

BBC 1: One Minute Wonders

2009-01-05T23:00:00.000-08:00

Just Before Christmas I received a call from a guy working on a new childrens TV programme called 'One Minute Wonders'. He'd seen the photographs I'd taken when I was invited to photograph Her Majesty the Queen a while ago and wanted to use them for the show. Of course I said yes and today, there they were. Did you know The Queen receives over 11, 500 letters every day? Neither did I until I watched the show

[TR] Sea Kayaking in Mallorca

2009-01-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

A Weekend to remember

What a Weekend !
It all started on Friday afternoon, feeling stressed with work and needing an escape I found myself surfing the net for flights. A friend of mine had been chatting about a fantastic outfitters based in Mallorca, so with a quick phone call, it was all booked . I flew out that evening with Easyjet (£70.00 return) and was met at Palma airport by an English guy called Pete who ran Tramuntana Pursuits on the Island of Mallorca.
By 8.30am Saturday morning I was on the beach in Pollensa admiring the kit and boat I’d hired from Pete. I’m used to having to paddle boats which resemble plastic bath tubs abroad, so imagine my delight when I was given a brand new Dagger sea kayak and even a proper adjustable paddle.
Pollensa beach is large and covered in deckchairs and sun canopies. I imagine by the afternoon this now deserted beach is chockablock with people. However the resort has lots of good quality,quite up market hotels and guesthouses so was a perfect place to start my journey.
We set off at 9am and headed towards the little lighthouse on Cap del Pinar. There are a few beaches along the way but most are cordoned off as there owned by the military so you’re pretty much committed for at least an hours paddle. As we rounded the headland Pete warned me about the confused water ahead of us. Confused water!! I think that was a nice way of saying ‘very choppy, adrenalin racing,hard to paddle water. It didn’t last long though and we’d soon been paddling 2 ½ hours and approaching Cala Coll Baix our first stop. Imagine the scene from Jurrasic park as they approach the island, well this is what Cala Coll Baix looks like. A totally deserted beach with steep sides, making it difficult to reach by land. I couldn’t resist diving into the turquoise water and having a swim. After a lunch of brie and grape sandwiches which Pete had brought along, we set off on a 16.4km open water paddle, straight across to the 1000ft cliffs of Cap Ferruch. It was 23 degrees and the paddling conditions were absolute perfection. I did have a slight problem with my trim but I moved a few bottles of my red wine about and it was all fine again.
It was almost 6pm when we reached Calla Torta. A popular beach which had a small cabin selling beer and snacks. This was pure bliss after 37km of paddling.
As we sat with our beers a lovely lady called Maria came over. It was only then that I realised that most of the people on the beach were completely naked. How I hadn’t noticed everyone was starkus is beyond me, but they didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t so it was fine. Maria used to be a K1 boater and had been watching us paddle towards the beach. She looked really keen to get back in a boat again so Pete kindly offered her his kayak. The funny bit was he insisted she wore a buoyancy aide. There she was in her birthday suit having difficulty doing the zip up on his buoyancy aid and Pete in a conundrum of not knowing whether to offer to help or not. That would have made a great photo to show his wife. Anyway, off they went for a short paddle and I organised the camping gear for the night. At around 7pm the beach became deserted. Maria had gone and it was just me and Pete. Out to sea I noticed a small island and we decided to have a gentle evening paddle towards it. It took about half an hour to get there and we couldn’t land so came straight back.
Pete was chef for the night and made a lovely Spanish Risotto which complimented my red wine wonderfully. I had expected a few problems with Mosquitoes and had come prepared but there was a slight breeze and I didn’t hear or see any. We made a big camp fire in the sand and by 9pm the sun had started to go down and we were treated to a fantastic fiery sunset. We spent that night drinking wine and by 2am we decided we had to go for a swim. It was breathtaking in more ways than one. The water was a little chilly but I soon got used to it. The phosflorecent in the water was like nothing I have ever seen before. When I moved my hands, magical green sparks flew from my fingers tips. I swam on my back and watched the trail of green light follow me.
The following morning we were up early and on our way by 6.30am. There was a beautiful sunrise as we headed for the headlands of Cabo del Freu and Cabo de pere with its 200 foot cliffs.
The third headland of Punta de Amer took 4 hours to reach. The temperature was 27 degrees and Pete was telling me that during August it can reach the high 30’s. I’d be spending all my time capsizing to cool down if I was out in that. Apparently May,June, September and October are the best for the weather. Although even in December the weather would be sublime compared to the cold wet weather we’d be having in the UK.
Our next stop was Cala Petitia. A beautiful small bay with rugged cliffs and the town of Porta Crista only half hour walk away. It would be a fantastic place to camp but it was only half way along our planned days paddling so we didn’t stay long. There was a good easterly breeze that kicked in just after lunch which we definitely made the most of. Along this final stretch there are loads of beaches and bays. Cala Anguila has a beach bar and Cala Magarik has mega climbing if you fancied a break from paddling for a few hours.
We chose to carry on paddling and soon came across some amazing caves which we just had to explore. From there we paddled to Cala Mandrago, a total of 50km in one day. I was exhausted. Waiting for us on the beach was Pete’s wife and two very cold and inviting pints of lager. She’d come to do the shuttle and to give me a lift back to the airport to catch the 23:55 flight back to Manchester. The whole trip seems like a dream already but best of all, I spent less than if I’d stayed at home. Now all I have to do is decide what to do next weekend.
Handy notes: Mallorca doesn’t have a coastguard, so if you get into trouble you’re reliant on local fishermen and sailors for help.
It is also difficult to get decent weather reports so be prepared for anything.

Lucinda wins the SCA 'Word and Image' Trophy

2008-11-02T18:00:00.000-08:00

'Tranquility'

In November 2008 I was awarded the SCA 'Word and Image' trophy for my photograph entitled 'Tranquility'. The trophy is a beautiful silver Quaich which I'll enjoy being the custodian of for the next 12 months.

Norfolk B&B Canoe Trails

2008-05-03T01:46:00.000-07:00

NORFOLK BROADS

With Winter now upon us the thought of going on expedition sends shivers through my bones. That was until I heard about a new canoe holiday company down in Norfolk. Their aim is to make canoeing expeditions as comfy, warm and luxurious as possible. So with my case in hand I hopped onto a train and headed for Norwich Station. At the station I was met by Dave from the Moorhen Guest House in Horning. 20 minutes later I arrived at the guest house and met the rest of my group and Mark ‘The Canoe Man’ who leads the trails. Over dinner he went through the itinerary for the next few days. It sounded wonderful. In the morning we’d be picked up at the guest house and taken down Buxton Mill. We didn’t need to take anything with us except some warm clothes. So the following morning after a huge delicious breakfast we made our way to the mill. Everything had been laid out for us, the boats, the buoyancy aids, paddles etc even our packed lunch had been made for us by Christine from the guest house. We all paired up and I hopped in a boat with Mark and Darcey his adorable Spaniel. Within minutes of being on the water we passed a nesting swan and a water deer, which I’ve never seen before. The Broads are certainly a nature lover’s paradise as another delight appeared around every corner. After a short while the river turned into a canal with beautiful fields and forests either side. It was perfect paddling territory for a white water wimp like me, well so I thought!
As lunch time approached I could hear the faint sounds of rushing water in the distance. I turned round to see Mark with a very sly look on his face. He had somehow managed to find the only white water in the whole of Norfolk for me. The little git! I have to admit, I got out of the boat and made an excuse of having to take photo’s as the rest of the group got totally drenched going through the little tunnel and then continueing to play on this great wave. I hate to admit it but Darcy the dog does harder white water than I do and he loves it too!
After Lunch we headed off the ‘beyond navigation’ area and onto the main section of the Wroxham broads with all the canal and narrow boats. Some of the boats where just like floating pieces of art, so colourful and with such intricate detail. As the sun started to set we were met at the side of the canal by Dave and all taken back to the guesthouse for Dinner. What a lovely way to finish the day. A long soak in the bath, a lovely hot dinner and a warm and comfy bed, who could ask for more? The following day we were picked up by Mark again and continued our trip along the broads. Today we stopped off at the Hoveton Great Broad nature reserve. You can only access this reserve by boat which makes it something special. We saw Marsh Harriers and Terns and only just missed a visit from the resident otter. Later in the day we visited the Sal House, home to the 16th biggest tree in Norfolk! From here we walked up a small path through the trees to the Fur and Feathers for a well deserved pint. As I sat there with my Lager Shandy I couldn’t help thinking of my past trips at this time of year. Dirty finger nails, uncomfy nights sleeping on freezing ground and eating instant mash potatoes and beans out of a tin. I think there’s a good chance that may well become a thing of the past for me now I’ve experience the comfy and warm way of doing things. After another lovely organic packed lunch made by Christine we headed back to the boats and headed off towards Decoy Broad. Again we paddled past so much wildlife and I even saw a Great Crested grebe catch a fish and pop up right next to my boat. Later that afternoon Dave was there again to pick us up and take us back the Guest House. If you are celebrating a special occasion there is an option of booking into the Broad House Boutique Country House 5 star hotel. One of the get outs is actually in their grounds so you could even do it as a surprise for your partner. It’s a magnificent hotel, I only sneaked in to use their loo but if the toilets with their chandeliers is anything to go by, it is very very posh.
That evening we chose to eat out at a local Chinese restaurant based in an old train carriage, it was very nice.
Day 3 and our final day on the water. It was another sunny day and there was an excitement in the air as I was going to Bewilderwood. If you’ve never heard of Bewilderwood before then you’re in for a treat especially if you have children. It’s a magical place situated at the edge of the broad in an old forest and is home to crockle’s and twiggle’s who live in tiny houses high in the tree’s or in amongst the crocklebogs. It’s an incredible place, with zip wires and treehouses and jungle bridges, definitely somewhere you can let your imagination go wild. I loved it.
It’s a shame but this is where my trip to the Broads ended and way to soon for my liking. I’ve never paddled on the broads before and I was surprised at just how much there was to see and do there. And as for the B&B canoe Tours you just can’t beat it.

Additonal Info:
East Midlands Trains http://www.eastmidlandstrains.co.uk/ Tel: 08457 125678
Moorhen Guest House http://www.themoorhenhorning.co.uk/ Tel: 01692 631444
The Canoe Man www.thecanoeman.com Tel: 07810 838052
Bewilderwood http://www.bewilderwood.co.uk/ Tel: 01603 783900
http://www.visitnorfolk.co.uk/

[TR] Loch Shiel

2008-04-02T22:00:00.000-07:00

Tent’s, Tipi’s and Tarp’s

Earlier this year the guy’s at Pro Adventure in Llangollen invited me to join them on the first of their new range of Wilderness 5 day expedition courses up in Scotland. As part of my eco-friendly family holiday search this trip sounded perfect and with trains running straight into Glenfinnan, the location was perfect too. The expedition was to take us the entire length of Loch Shiel (better known these days as Hogwarts Lake in the Harry Potter films) and all the way down to the sea at Moidart.
It was early April and bitterly cold and here I was in the Scottish highlands about to go camping again! Is that dedication or what?
I have to admit to being slightly nervous about going on holiday with a group of people I’d never met before and I really didn’t know what to expect. I was about to say ‘not knowing if there was a mad axe man in our midst’ but there were plenty of men and a few axes so that probability seemed quite high! In reality though, everybody seemed lovely and in no time at all we were wheeling our boats down from the Glenfinnan Hotel car park to the waters edge.
Scotty our canoe guru for the 5 days, soon had us on the water to see what skill levels we were all at. There was Helen, a Vicars wife from the West Midlands who had been kayaking before but canoeing on open water was something completely new to her. There was Joel her 14 year her old son. Me, who virtually lives in a canoe but has the laziest style of paddling possible and finally there was Richard, an Ecologist who had never set foot in a boat before.
Even at this level Scotty soon had us prepped up in no time and it wasn’t long before we said goodbye to the shore and headed off on our adventure. As this was day one, we took it easy and our first stop for lunch was only 45 minutes later, less than 2 miles down the Loch. There was a nice pebbly beach, some rocks and bushes and a lovely little island about 50 meters away. From here you would normally be able to see for miles down the loch but all we could see was the weather closing in on us. With this on our minds we didn’t stop long and sure enough within minutes of being back on the water, the snow began to fall. I adore snow flurries so I was in my element paddling through this magical winter scene. As the snow got heavier it formed a thick blanket around us but it was fine as we could still make out each others brightly coloured Buoyancy aids shining through. Then suddenly the wind picked up and we were paddling in serious blizzard conditions. Waves were splashing over the gunnels as the winds swirled around us. I looked over to Helen knowing how she’d feel, her first time in open water with her young son in the boat and being faced with conditions like this. She was amazing though, she kept her calm and held the boat firm until the worst of the winds had abated and then followed us into a sheltered bay to safety. I would have been terrified if that had happened to me on my first outing.
Anyway, after a quick assessment of the conditions it was decided that it was time to find our first nights camp. I’d read about a lovely camping spot about 6 ½ miles from the start, which if we paddled hard enough, would only be an hour away. According to the map there was a river running alongside which when we arrived, made it really easy to find. It was a lovely sheltered spot surrounded by woodland (firewood) and a sandy beach which made landing simple. The snow was still falling heavily which made the tarp building and fire lighting a bit of a challenge, but eventually Tom our bushcraft instructor for the week managed to sort it all out and we all had a relaxing albeit an eye watering evening (from the smoke) around the fire.
The following morning we were all up fairly early and were treated to a tandem paddle stroke session from Scotty. The sun was shining and spirits where high as we packed up camp and headed off to what has to be one of the most picturesque campsites ever. It was just under 5 miles further down the loch and we came across it by accident really. We’d stopped for lunch on a little pebble beach and were having a demonstration by Tom on how to filter water using moss and sand when Scotty appeared from over a hill saying he had found an amazing site. Ok so it was only lunch time and we’d only paddled 4.7 miles but this spot was just too good to leave. It was on a little headland (featured in the Highlander movie), surrounded by trees and even had perfect little spots already laid out to erect our tents, tipi’s and tarps. Helen and I soon commandeered a small hump to be the ladies bathroom, which had stunning views and the guy’s were left to trek over to an old fallen down pine tree on the other side.
We had such fun that day setting up camp and learning loads of new bushcraft skills.
I think the idea was to acquire sufficient skills during the day so that we could all build shelters that evening and sleep out in them. This didn’t go quite according to plan though as we kept getting side tracked and the urge to make fire without the use of matches soon took over as the main objective of the day. By early evening we decided to head out in our boats again and paddled over to the island of Eileen Fhionain. On this sacred isle lays the ruins of St Finan’s church surrounded by some magnificent Celtic Crosses. The views from here alone were well worth the 2.2 mile return paddle. When we arrived back at the camp Pete, who owns ProAdventure had a big roaring fire waiting for us and lots of hot water on the boil for tea. We all set about making our own dinners whilst sat around the fire and watched in awe as the sun set over the loch. It was absolutely fantastic. Well apart from poor young Joel who was sampling his first ever Wayfarer meal. Soon after the words sickly gooe and child abuse were whispered, which made us all laugh.
Later that evening Tom taught us how to make Birch Bark Torches. With only a stick a sharp knife and some carefully folded bark these torches were great and lasted so much longer than I’d ever of imagined. This was followed by some toasting of marshmallows, a few glasses of good wine and a really nice chilled out evening was had by all.
Day three and we woke up to quite a grey day with strong north westerly winds. Today was a canoe skills day and no sooner where we on the water than we were learning all about trim, wind and ferry gliding. We were heading straight across the loch to paddle up the River Polloch. Here we were taught the art of Poling then later had a nice picnic under a tarp followed by an afternoon of Tracking and Lining. I can’t say I’m much of a fan of this and for me its something once learnt you only ever do again when you need it. However, everyone else had a great time and amazingly no one fell in.
Back at camp and it was straight into bushcraft skills again which I love. Joel started to build his own shelter out of branches, moss and rhododendron leaves and within a couple of hours he had a structure that Ray Mears would be proud of. I was quite jealous as I would have loved to have slept out in one myself but I’d been too busy enjoying making pot hangers with Richard that I ran out of time for shelter building. It was another great night around the fire and Joel who slept soundly all night, declared his shelter was warmer and comfier than the tent he’d used the previous evening.
The following morning I was woken up by a text from a friend warning me of a huge storm and gale force winds which was forecast to hit Loch Shiel that evening. It all felt quite dramatic as Pete phoned his office to see if he could find out some more details. And true enough a storm was coming and the effects were set to last a few days. It was a tough decision especially for Pete who had everyone’s safety to consider and also the logistics of how to get us all back to Glenfinnan the following day. So disappointingly but very sensibly it was decided to make the most of the days good weather and paddle the 6.4 miles to the bridge at Acharacle (which had access to the A861 main road). Pete set off early in the opposite direction towards Glenfinnan to pick up the minibus and planned to meet us at the bridge at the end of the day. We were going to be cutting the trip short by 24hours which meant we wouldn’t reach Moidart or get to paddle with the seals but safety had to come first and we were all happy with the decision.
So with the sun still shining and not a breeze in the air we made our way towards the end of the loch. The scenery was stunning as we paddled between the huge snow covered mountains towering above us. We even saw a Golden Eagle which certainly made my day. The conditions were so perfect that we reached Acharacle in just a couple of hours so after 4 days of camp food we decided to treat ourselves and walk into the village to find the chippy we’d heard about. It’s a good 30 minute walk, which was quite uncomfortable in my pink paddling wellies but on tasting those chips, they was worth every one of the blisters. A couple of hours later, Pete arrived with the mini bus and this excellent wilderness trip was over. Pete offered everyone a free day’s activity and tuition back in Llangollen to make up for cutting the week short but everyone had had so much fun they were already booking their next courses.

INFO:
ProAdventure: Tel: 01978 861912 Website: http://www.proadventure.co.uk/
Course dates 8th-12th September - Loch Shiel 17th-21st November - River Spey
Glenfinnan Hotel: Tel:01397 722235 Website: http://www.glenfinnanhouse.com/
Excellent hotel that is happy to let paddlers leave their cars in the car park as long as they have no big functions on. All they ask is for you to fill in a special form at reception before you set off.
Tourist Information: Tel: 0845 2255121 Website: www.visitscotland.com/adventure

[TR] Loch Ericht, Scotland

2008-01-02T14:00:00.000-08:00

Knowing When to Turn Back

In my mind I had the image of a lake full of reflections, surrounded by snow covered mountains and clear blue skies above. My boat would glide forever with a single stroke, leaving me free to take the most wonderful and inspiring photographs I could ever dream of.
“You must be mad”, “you’ve not been to Scotland in winter before then!” Were the comments I got when I excitedly announced my latest trip to colleagues. I’d checked the 10 day weather forecast and it all seemed fine. So excitedly I got in the car with Al, for the 400 mile drive up to Scotland. We were heading for Loch Ericht, right in the heart of the Scottish wilderness. There was a little bit of snow on the hills to start off with but as we made our way through the highlands and darkness fell, the snow started to fall heavily. By the time we reached the Drumochter Pass on the A9, visibility was poor. The car was starting to slide all over the road and things where getting quite scary, when a faint light shone through the blizzard and the letters B&B appeared. It was a bit like one of those corny movie moments when help appears from nowhere but just when you thought you where safe a huge monster comes out and eats you! Thankfully we saw no monsters but we still had 200 meters of deep un-snowploughed road to get through before we finally reached the warmth and safety of the Balsporron Cottages B&B. We were greeted by Ann and Phil who made us feel right at home in front of their real log fire and even made us a very welcome hot meal. After a lovely night’s sleep we were up early, ate breakfast and headed outside to an incredible snow-covered landscape. Everyone helped to dig the car out and once back on the A9 the road was clear and we were only a few of miles from Loch Ericht itself. Ann kindly printed out an up to date forecast for us which took us slightly by surprise. 35mph winds with gusts up to 70 and snow was forecast for the next two days and I guess if we’d had any sense we would have turned back then, but we’d driven so far, taken time off work, spent all that money on petrol and there wasn’t a breeze in the air, so we decided to carry on. We left our car just behind the Petrol Station in Dalwhinney where the guide book suggested and loaded up my brand new Wenonah Prospector canoe. We then made the 600 meter portage down the lane under the railway bridge, through the barrier and down to the lochs edge. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to drag a fully laden boat over snow by myself.
At only 14.5miles long, I’d given us a couple of days to complete the round trip of Loch Ericht with the highlights being a nights stay at the famous Ben Alder bothy and a visit to Bonnie Prince Charlies caves at the furthest end. The sky was grey and it was bitterly cold but even at the lochs side the wind was barely noticeable. So off we went, all wrapped up in the latest winter gear, paddling past huge lumps of ice floating in the water, hoping to reach Ben Alder by teatime.
We’d only been paddling fifteen minutes when we passed the first headland and the full force of the weather hit us. It was blowing a hoolie out there on the main part of the loch and it took all our strength just to stay head on to the waves. Being sensible we should have turned back there and then but we didn’t. As the weather got even worse and we started to tire we realised that we had no choice but to continue as both sides of the loch where by now, too steep for a safe get out, with such big waves breaking on them. The sun was disappearing fast behind the mountains and the temperature plummeted further. I have to say, my new Wenonah prospector (quick plug) handled amazingly in what has to be the worst conditions I have ever paddled in. My old boat would have been swamped in no time but this new baby just glided up and down the waves with astonishing stability (plug over). It was after 4 hours of battling through hellish conditions we finally found a beach we could land on. It was starting to get dark and I had an uneasy feeling inside, things where not looking good. Al got out of the boat first and soon realised there was no way we could get a tent up on the rocks where we’d landed. Further up there was some grass which looked perfect until we stepped on it. The thin layer of ice it was growing through cracked and we were stood in 5 inches of water. The sheer hard work of paddling had been keeping me warm in what was now below freezing temperatures. But now I’d stopped I desperately needed some shelter. We found a spot on a slight incline where our feet only sank about an inch and decided there just wasn’t time to look for anywhere else. My face was raw, my feet were numb and my whole body was hurting and aching from being too cold. All I wanted to do was roll up into a ball, shelter my body from the bitter wind and close my eyes. For a split second I thought ‘gosh we might not get ourselves out of this’. Then something inside kicked in, and with a sudden rush of adrenalin, my frozen paddling mittens came off and we fought like hell against the gales and the failing light to put that tent up. All I could hear in my head was my heart pounding, for that single moment nothing in the world mattered more than getting that tent up and somehow, we did it. I have never felt so focussed on anything in my life. As the final peg went in, almost like a cruel joke, the wind dropped. Then as I looked up around me into the fading light, I realised we were surrounded by deer. There must have been 200 of them, mainly stags, all watching as we finally took refuge inside our tent.
It was a reflective evening in the tent that night, with neither of us knowing quite how we’d let ourselves get into such a dangerous situation. Thank goodness we’d bought the tent as a back up in case the bothy was full. We’d at least done something right. As my body warmed up I realised I’d quite badly pulled the muscle in my left forearm and even Al was feeling pretty sore in his shoulders and neck from 4 hours of hacking.
The following day we woke up to find everything frozen. My gloves, the toothpaste even the rice pudding I’d decided to cook for breakfast was frozen solid in its tin. The cold was affecting our gas cooker too which was barely alight and certainly couldn’t cook anything. Luckily we had a spare trianga, meths stove with us which although classed as a bit old fashioned these days, worked a treat. Outside the windchill temperature had been -14 degrees Celsius. The wind was strong but not gale like, like the day before so we had another decision to make. If I didn’t make Ben Alder Bothy, with all its history of ghosts and ghouls and didn’t climb the mountain to see Bonnie Prince Charlies cave, what would I write about? We got out my GPS and we’d only managed to paddle 6.9miles the day before. We usually paddle three times that distance in that time and the weather was slightly better so we decided to give it a go.
So with another great decision under our belts we decided to leave the tent where it was, paddle the 8 miles to Ben Alder Bothy, get the photo’s I needed for an article then sail back, have a late lunch at the tent, pack away and sail the 6.9miles back to the beginning.
It was so cold though, even with all the high tech kit we had on, I still wasn’t warm. I even ended up putting on the £2.99 last minute back-up balaclava I got from the garage in Capel Curig on, over my scull cap. I have been umming and arring about whether to submit the photo of me wearing this ensemble and I’ve been persuaded too against my better judgement, just remember it was really really cold!
Anyway, off we set towards the Bothy. The snow covered mountain Ben Alder towered above us but offered no shelter from the strengthening wind. My forearm was agony and I found it difficult to paddle on my left side but we still carried on. The waves got bigger, the wind got stronger and I was exhausted after just an hour. Then a snow blizzard started and I just couldn’t do anymore. Al was gutted that we’d come so close and I just couldn’t find the strength to paddle another stroke. He tried to carry on alone but the wind was too strong so reluctantly with only a mile to go he turned the boat around and sailed back to the tent.
As I sat exhausted and motionless in the boat letting the sail take us back, I was totally unaware the effect the cold was starting to have on my body. My toes were numb but that had happened the day before but, about an hour later, when we’d finally reached our tent, I tried to get out of the boat I couldn’t straighten up. My body felt rigid. I tried to ask Al for help but my speech had gone all slurry, this really scared me. When I did get back to the tent and laid down my body started to shake uncontrollably. It only lasted a few minutes and I was then ok but, its frightening to imagine what would have happened if we’d stayed out on the water even a few minutes longer. By 2.30pm we were both in the tent wrapped up in our sleeping bags sipping hot sweet drinks as a freezing blizzard howled outside. We should have been back at the car by now and I was worried the guest house I’d booked for that evening might call emergency services if we didn’t turn up so I routed through my dry bag and found her details, only to see that I had her address but no telephone number. My mobile reception was intermittent so I texted my friend the address and prayed he would find the number, before a big helicopter came in search of us. Luckily he found it and a quick call later everything was fine. I soon fell asleep and incredibly 17 hours later I woke up. I do like the odd lay in but that was pretty impressive even for me but I guess my body must have needed it.
It was 9am on day 3 and as I looked out of the tent I couldn’t believe my eyes. The sun was shining. The loch was flat and I was surrounded by beautiful snow covered mountains. We’d not seen a top of a mountain since we got there; the landscape was breathtaking. I could finally get my camera out and take some photo’s.
With such lovely weather we could have easily paddled to the Bothy, seen the caves and paddled all the way back to the car and still have hours to spare but my body had had enough and we finally made the first sensible decision of the trip and paddled straight back to Dalwhinney.
As we gently paddled back through this astounding scenery in beautiful sunshine I got to thinking ‘was it all worth it?’
Things could have turned out so badly but through sheer luck rather than judgement they didn’t. My sense of adventure has gone up another few notches and I’ve certainly leant not to under-estimate the British weather. But my head is filled with incredible achievement knowing I paddled and survived such harsh conditions. And now I’m paddling through some of the most magnificent scenery I’ve ever seen in my life. This is the bit I’d dreamed of and I guess it’s made even more spectacular by what we’d endured to get here.

2 days later at home: Without realising, twice during this trip I was showing some classic signs of the first stages of Hypothermia. My naivety of canoeing in cold weather screams at me as I proof read this article. Even with all the right clothing, and without capsizing, my exhaustion and inexperience of freezing temperatures left me in what could have been a life threatening situation. And what for? A few photographs! It’s just not worth it. Saying that, paddling the entire of Loch Ericht is still high on my list of trips to do, I’ll just be waiting for the weather to warm up a little bit first, I think. X

Useful info:
Balsporran Cottages B&B (just round the corner from the Loch) Tel: 01528 522389
www.balsporran.com
VisitScotland (tourist information, accommodation, bus times etc) Tel:0845 2255121

www.visitscotland.com/adventure

[TR] How it all started

2003-05-01T01:00:00.000-07:00

Caledonian Canal (from the archives)

Ok, so your dreaming about your first expedition in your newly purchased Canadian Canoe. You have read a few magazines, practiced a few 'J' strokes on the local lake and have even chatted to someone who did the trip by kayak over 10 years ago. This was me just a few weeks ago. For years I had dreamt of paddling in wild and remote places, so this year I decided to take the plunge and booked myself and hubby onto an 'introduction to Open Boating' course at Plas Y Brenin. Within five days we went from never having held a paddle to running grade 2 white water (terrified and out of control, I must add).By the fifth day hubby, Eric (who we'd met on the course), and myself had decided that we had all the skills and confidence for our first expedition. This monumental decision was taken in the bar after quite a few drinks and may have impaired our judgement slightly. A date was set, location agreed and all we had to do was get the kit together. Airbags, waterproofs, bivvys, torches and dry bags were all bought easily enough. Our first problem came when I realised the car (I had two weeks earlier begged my husband to buy) was a little small. He had wanted a big green deisel estate, pratical, spacious and even had a roof rack. Next to it was parked a little two door coupe, tinted windows, great stereo and the roof the size of a postage stamp. Need I say more?With some difficulty we eventually found a roof rack that fitted and with lots of straps, gaffa tape and crossed fingers it did the trick. We arrived in Fort William late afternoon and booked into a great little B&B called 'Mansefield Guesthouse', situated just 500 yards from the top of Neptune Staircase, which was to be the starting point of our expedition. We met up with Eric and his mate Dave down the local pub and nervously looked at the map, at the long blue lines and blobs that made up our route through the Great Glen. The trip would be 60 miles long and would take us right across Scotland, ending in Inverness.We were up early and made our way to the harbour masters office situated in Corpach, to pick up the important toilet key and our canoeing licence (free) that we needed to go along the canal itself. We kitted out the canoes and pushing off from a small pontoon started our adventure. Despite the torrential rain we were all ecstatic to be actually there and actually doing it. Everything was going perfectly for about an hour!Out of the blue, the light sound of splashing water from our paddles was drowned out by the engines of a huge fishing trawler that seemed to be racing towards us. We kept calm and expecting quite a large wake to follow, paddled as quickly as we could to the side of the canal. Eric decided to take this opportunity to hop out of his boat for a quick pee. Little did he know what was to come! As the trawler passed us, the water in the canal seemed to get sucked away, we dropped about two feet and were quickly being dragged towards the hull of this huge boat. Just when we thought we were done for, we stopped. Hubby and I were both quite shaken but breathed a sigh of relief that we hadn't gone in or under. Then from over hubbies shoulder I spied the biggest wall of water I have ever seen. This was the wake we had earlier been patiently waiting for. It must have towered at least four feet above us. Lost for words I held onto the boat and closed my eyes.
Up and up we went, rocking from one side to the other. The water had now started lapping the top of the canal bank. Suddenly, we were motionless. The water went down and the canal went back to its original tranquil self. Hubby and I on the other hand were in our canoe, two feet out of the water sitting on a great big rock. What a sight we must have looked. Moments later Eric appeared having finished his peaceful pee. The look of disbelief on his face was amazing. We are sat two feet above the water level and poor Dave; having been dragged along by the trawler was 200 yards further down the canal! Dave (who's only previous experience in a canoe totaled two hours on a river) finally managed to paddle back to us and pick up Eric for the next stretch of the journey.It wasn't long before we came to our first lock gate and our first portage. What a nightmare portage is! Firstly having to unload all the gear from the boats then dragging them up very steep banks, which felt almost verticle at times. At this point I recommend to every reader to buy or make some canoe wheels. Also at this point I would like to mention ''Food'. Realizing portage would be one of the drawbacks of this trip I had spent the entire previous week preparing the lightest, driest, most space saving food thinkable. Porriage oats with dried milk rationed into little plastic bags, pasta, nuts,dried fruit and suger even the smash had been taken out of its original packaging and bagged up. I must admit I was quite proud of all the thought and effort I'd put into the resulting lightweight yet versitile food bag we had. Eric and Dave on the other hand had decided to stop at Tesco's on the way up. Purchased 12 tins of curry, one tin opener, three 6 packs of beer and two boxes of wine and were equally pleased with their provisions.It was now early afternoon and we had reached out first Scottish lake 'Loch Locky'. 11 miles long, 500 feet deep and due to the imposing steep forested sides of the Great Glen probably the most dramatic of all the lochs. So impressive were the surroundings you could have easily imagined yourself on one of the North America's great lakes.The weather was still horrid but the wind had turned and was now behind us, which was great as we could sail for a while and rest our arms. We had purchased a small canoe sail before we left and Eric and Dave had brought along a big green and white golf umbrella, which worked just as well. Sailing is great fun and I reckon we averaged about 8mph along that loch. We got caught in a couple of nasty scrawls, where we all regretted being quite so far away from the shore. The swells got up to two foot and we all got wet from water washing over the sides.Our improvised cut up plastic bottle bailer, worked a treat at this point. We reached the end of the lake very cold and tired and decided to set up our first wilderness camp on a tiny headland.
The fire was lit and we were soon warm and well fed. As he had done a night class in indian cookery some years ago Dave was nominated as chef. The rain stopped and as we sat watching three young otters playing on the shore it soon turned into a wonderful evening. Then out of nowhere we heard a landrover. Two minutes later a farmer, flat cap and wellies appeared demanding £3.00 a tent. None of us had the energy to move so we paid and sat wondering how the farmer had managed to reach us without a boat? At this point I would like to warn you about the little known Scottish tree slug. Its purpose in life is climbing trees, positioning itself perfectly, then dropping effortlessly into your cup of wine.We woke up about 7am the following morning. There was a thick mist on the Loch and it was bitterly cold. It wasn't far to the next lock so we paddled through the mist and luckily got our bearings right. This portage wasn't too bad and there were showers and a toilet. I was desperate to have a good wash until I saw the signs on the wall. 'Under no circumstances let this water contact your eyes or mouth while showering'. I decided smelling was all a part of the expedition experience.We soon arrived at Loch Oich only four miles long. It was beautiful. Water like a millpond; I could have done my make up using my reflection on the water. The sun shone all day, a few miles of canal and a lock later we had reached Fort Augustus, the official halfway point.That evening we booked into another B&B called 'Nia-Roo Lodge'. A lovely man called Bob (who reminded me of a leprechaun I had seen in a film as a child) ran it. Nia-Roo Lodge was friendly and warm and the breakfast was great. Bob even let us leave our car in his yard for the remainder of our trip. Well-fed and rejuvenated hubby and I restocked our canoe and prepared for the next leg of the journey - Loch Ness. 22 miles long, over 1000 feet deep and when we arrived, covered in thick mist.
We decided to paddle on the less popular northwest side of the lake. The main road runs along this side, which puts a lot of people off. As we were paddling, alone now, we felt happier knowing civilization was that little bit closer just in case of an accident. The road was covered with trees the entire way and we only occasionally heard the odd motorbike whizzing along. However, looking across we had definitely made the right decision. There were boats everywhere. A couple of small canoes would have struggled with the wakes alone. After five miles of paddling through the mist, the day turned out stunning.
The sun shone and Loch Ness looked like a mirror. The weather was so great we decided to tick off as many miles as possible. A staggering 18 miles along Loch Ness we decided to make camp for the night. The only spot we could find was a pebbly beach. We held the bivvy tent pegs down with rocks and were grateful of our sleeping mats. This was to be our last evening of the expedition and it will definitely be one I will never ever forget. We sat on the beach and watched an incredible sunset, the colours reflecting on the lake, bright reds and oranges as if the water was on fire. It was magical. The moon came up and with it a shower of shooting stars. The only sound was the gentle lapping of water on the beach. We sat for hours looking at the most majectic landscape imaginable. Then out of nowhere, the gentle lapping changed as larger and larger waves began breaking on the beach. We looked out into the distance but there were no boats within miles of us. The waves lashed against the shore for a good three or four minutes then everything went still again. It left me wondering if there might be some truth to the Folklore after all!The following morning we woke to a bright red fiery sky. The lake had changed from a majestic mirror to a bubbling cauldron of spitting waves. We set off with the knowledge we only had four miles of this to endure. The waves just got bigger and bigger, they kept pushing us in the opposite direction. They towered above the canoe and several came splashing down over the back of the boat, drenching us both in the process. It was gone 11am when we finally reached the next stretch of canal and heard from a passing yachtsman that the winds were reaching 25mph on the centre of the lake. We were cold and tired and decided we would portage the next lock and would finish our trip just short of Inverness. I'm glad we did as we found a lovely little cafe for me to warm up in whilst hubby caught a bus back to Fort Augustus to collect the car. That's it; we survived and didn't even get a blister. If I had to do it again, I would definitely use wheels for the portage and would probably take it a little easier and spend a few more days out there.All in all this has to be the perfect trip for a beginner.