Castle Caldwell

Exposed corner tower

The original Castle Caldwell was built from 1610 by Thomas Blemmerhassett on the 1500 acre estate he acquired in the Plantation of Ulster. About 50 years later the castle was purchased by James Caldwell, a properous Enssikillen merchant originally from Ayrshire in Scotland. Unlike many other plantation castles, this one survived intact into the early 19th century. But by the turn into the 20th century the castle had fallen into disrepair and after 300 years it had become a ruin. It has remained that way since then though it is now in state "care". Much of the structure remains though it is now heavily shrouded in ivy and the forest continues to invade it.

Ivy root

A path leads past this corner tower and although the structure seems fairly evident, as you walk by it can be easily missed. Other views, especially toward what would have been the main facade can see nothing but a wall of greenery - nothing to suggest a castle lies buried underneath. Recent years growth have even over taken the warning signs.

It is not too difficult to dodge the nettles and brambles and scramble through the broken fence and enter the structure through what must have been a regular doorway at one time. Inside the tower is fairly clear of shrubbery though huge ivy roots trail through the old arrow slits feeding the ivy adorning the external walls. It is still evident from these slits and the castellations that can be seen from inside that the tower was constructed for defense.

Display windows facing North

Its use clearly changed over the years and while there must have been an internal court-yard with wide passageways spanned by high arches, more modern structures of wide arched windows facing out to the water-side are evident. Though earth has built up on both sides suggesting these might have been doorways, other access points are much lower. These must be a relatively modern feature being very close to where the lake would have reached.

Multiple floor joist holes and arrow slits

 In the mid-twentieth century, a major lowering in water levels was engineered. The waters of the lake then receded from the building though for much of the north-facing shoreline, the old coast is quite evident with a distinct, almost sheer drop in land levels from the old to the new reclaimed land. A boundary line of young oak trees also follows the old shore-line.


 This part of the building suggests the different levels; the bottom doorway leading out to the ancient water line, supporting holes for joists supporting a floor with arrow slit windows and at least one floor above that. Parts of the structure have survived amazingly well including several oak lintels above doors and windows, metal supporting spikes and even some plastered batten, possibly contemporary with brick work in various parts.

There are other structures elsewhere on the peninsula including a ruined chapel with graveyard and tombs, a viewpoint or tower-base at the eastern point, an ice house and possibly contemporary quays or landing stages on the south shore.

Kearney Beach

Erinne & Pauline

Bellaghy & NI Aires

Broughshane Mill

Bellaghy

Larches struck down

First chance we have had to get away this autumn and it seems our usual haunt at this time of year is Glenariff. Weather on Friday was appalling but by morning had cleared for a wonderous dawn; temperature was decidedly chilly but the air was crystal clear and the silence in our part of the forest was enormous. This was definitely a day to get out and enjoy the world.

On wer bikes and down the lane to the main road. Coming up here last night, in the dark, the road felt treacherous, slipping and sliding. In daylight the reason was clear - a carpet of red pine needles covered the road and given yesterday's rain it not only looked like a single item rather than hundreds of parts but felt and behaved like a greased plastic sheet.There was an odd stillness about the place too; barely a breath of air moved the trees and the few deciduous ones stood starkly naked against the winter blue sky.

On the other side of the main road, the public forest park road was well littered too. The entrance road skirts the top of the deep gulley where the main river of the glen flows. As the valley deepens a couple of impressive waterfalls appear as the river cuts its way through the valley floor. Unusually today we can see right down to the flowing water from the road above. Either there are more deciduous trees than I imagined here or there has been some wide-spread tree felling in progress.

Arriving in the car park we leave the bikes to walk down to the waterfalls and on to Laragh Lodge for a morning coffee. We don't get far - the path is blocked by tape and wooden barriers with large warning signs.Evidently tree felling is in progress then and that's why the valley looked so bare. One of the signs has lots of multi-coloured text and the story it tells is not good. Giving up on that path we head for the reverse route.

Passing the viewpoint looking down the valley toward Waterfoot and the sea. The quality of light is typical for a chilly November day; bright sunshine catching the shadows along the higher edges of the great U-shaped valley. The exhibition centre describes the ancient sharing of the farmland and its easy to imagine long narrow family plots rising up from the valley floor to the grasslands at the top likely still holding treasures of buried hoards of butter from summer grazing. Nowadays many of these fields have merged into single farms or tracts of forest and its easy to see the pockets of larch brown against the evergreen of the other conifers. This might be the last time we see these woods in our life-time.

The reason for blocked paths and extensive tree felling becomes clear as we walk further on and are blocked again. There is no access to the forest. A stack of red, freshly harvested timber - the result of devastation of the nearby hill-side. A sign proclaims "Phytophthora Ramorum".

In one of those odd - and it seems all too frequent - coincidences, a Radio 4 program a couple of days before, possibly "Gardener's Question Time", had described the disaster that was affecting much or rural Cornwall with vast tracts of mature woodland being chopped down; forcibly (by law) left fallow for up to seven years before replanting could begin again. All because an insidious pathogen infecting most of the Larch trees in the area. It seems, the disease had taken a turn for the worse in 2009 and had mutated into a very virulent and infectious form that was rapidly spreading throughout the country wrecking havoc wherever Japanese larch were growing. It was also jumping species and attacking other trees and shrubs as it went, taking out Rhododendrons and decimating some of the long established formal gardens.

It had been known in Northern Ireland since 2009 but evidently a major incident had occurred here with the result that many, if not all, larch trees in the forest had been taken down after evidence of the disease had been found. According to an official report in August (http://www.forestry.gov.uk/pramorum), infections have been found in Sitka Spruce in Irish forests - this is the most widely planted tree species in the British Isles. Things do not look good; all the conifer forests may be under threat and if they have to be removed, it will take 30 or 40 years for forests to recover to their current population. We will be long gone.

On Sunday, we headed in the other direction intending to perhaps wander down the stream nearby that fed the main river in the larger park across the road. As we moved out of the shelter of the evergreens in the camp site, this part of the forest had been devastated too. Vast swathes of larch trees had been removed leaving barren fields of stumps, broken branches and piles of sawdust. On this scale, it was depressing to see and we just retreated back to the fantasy world of audio-book storytelling. On a better day a discourse on Caravaggio might have been in order to echo the subject of the storybook but for now it will have to wait.

Future Targets

The weather today was supposed to be good if a bit blustery. At about 6:00am the sky gaves us the "sailors warning" with a spectacular firey sunrise

Neither of us seemed to have much motivation to get started today though P did an early morning bike run. We were both feeling the affects of yesterday's paddling and an excess of fresh air.

We headed south and somehow ended up in the Republic without quite meaning to; made the most of it anyway stopping for a great lunch in Belturbet and refilling the van with diesel at a 15% discount.

When we got back into the North we checked out various locations though the wind was too strong for us to consider heading out. Knockninny: had a nice little marina with a stylish hotel & restaurant nearby; quite extensive water with islands within paddling distance (see picture). Carry Bridge: disappointing busy commercial centre though it does have a camp site adjacent to the river and hotel. Crom Castle: we looked over to the castle and Crichton's tower on the first day and on closer inspection it was even better close up; really interesting spot for exploring by either canoe or bicycle if we could find somewhere to park the van.

And eventually home - with a minor detour to Kinegoe Marina for a cuppa - for tea with the boys.

Mother of all Yews

Started the day with a cycle round Florence Court.

The entrance to the estate is wonderful; seemingly manicured lawns skirting a perfect little switch-back road. This took us up to the main car park before the house beside the walled garden.

The walled garden is currently being reconstructed. An original plan shows it to be quite huge with an Italianette entrance flanked by apple orchard. The apple blossom was especially striking with perhaps half-a-dozen mature trees crowded close together overloaded with blooms. By the entrance too were several varieties of Narcissus. So far work is progressing really well and looks to be near finished just waiting for the plants to mature.

A stone wall separates this part from the rest of the garden and of course out of sight, behind the wall and the garden is barely under control. Mostly seeded as lawn with the paths barely defined. Evidently this is work in progress. At the top is a small cottage available for rent. Constructed as the other walls are in a rather unusual brick pattern, the cottage looks an ideal holiday retreat. At the other end are more apple trees and quite a few saplings only planted very recently. FInishing the garden is a large wall stretching the full length with a couple of architectural features. What interested me most were several wisterias twisting their was up the brick-work. A few were even in bloom.

From here we cycled round the back of the house following various trails past the sawmill, ice house and such into woodland. Skirting pasture at times and just about staying within the boundaries of the estate we came to the FLorencecout or Irish Yew. According to a stone before the tree, it was found between 1740 and 1760. Being female it can only be propogated by cuttings and this has led to some severe pruning of the tree. See the Wikipedia article for more information and pictures. Despite this, the tree seems relatively healthy after almost 300 years!

From the tree, paths led back toward the estate entrance road crossing in front of the house far enough away to give a grand view of the house. Its not quite as I remember it when I played with Niall and Steve & Lynne Majury's eldest in the cut grass by the steps of the front-door - must have been well before 1984...

Back at the van, we set off quickly having planned our search for a new launch point. Just above the Share Centre and Smith's Beach is Killy Quay. We arrived here and started to assemble the boat. Considering this place is on the road to nowhere, it was like Picadilly Circus will all sorts driving by. Two sets of young fellas arrived with their flash motors which they drove right to the edge of the Quay so they could take photos.

Anyway we got the boat into the water again avoiding getting wet. This whole region is supposed to be very shallow - less than a meter as far as we could see. Indeed right out in between the bigger islands were patches of reed poking through the water - quite bizare. The wind was up today though and seemed to catch the boat quite badly. Made steering difficult and hard work paddling into the wind or even across it. We did not feel so confident in these conditions and came in fairly quickly.

On our way back to the Florencecourt site we were stopped by a force of 6 PSNI officers and nearly as many squad cars. Remarkable more for the fact they were all female.

Fermanagh Ahoy

Made good time leaving promptly at 5:30 from Bangor stopping for a dreadful dinner near Dungannon - tasteless faggots, yugh!

Reached Enniskillen while it was still light but mistakenly chose the wrong road which took us along the western side of the lower lough. Coincidently we took this road on our honeymoon (from the Killyhevlin) and at what must have been the exact same spot we were stopped again at a police check - 30 years on.

Even at this time the views along the lough-shore were spectacular. Not many islands on this side so the views were across to Boa and the likes. P was eager to get the canoe out at these jetties; even the river through Beleek looked inviting. Eventually we wound our way round to Clonelly after passing in and out of the Republic several times.

Saturday was a tourist day.

Starting at Clonelly we motored into Enniskillen looking for a rope for the canoe and maps of the loughs. The town was seriously busy; though we did enjoy the handmade posters for election candidate Stevenson as we sat stuck in traffic. We decided to head out of town and hopefully pick-up something by the Lough. Made it as far as Lisnaskea where we paused for refreshments.

Spent a lot of time checking out various jetties and slipways but nothing quite seemed to work. Eventually we found our way to Derryvoy jetty but there were too many cruisers tied up to the dock. Continued to the supposed part-time ferry to Crom; here the road just petered out becoming the grounds for Crom Church. This was to be our first launch point.

Moved the van down the path and assembled the canoe; carried it down to the slipway. Water too shallow so P climbed in dry and I waded in to push the boat out. Spent what seemed like ages pottering about from island to island and just sitting watching the herons & swans; but it was probably only 30 minutes before we came in. Despite this we were so exhilarated; the canoe was so stable and easy to control. We both managed to exit without getting ourselves wet.

By now it was getting quite late and light was fading so we headed for the Florencecourt site.

Castlewellan Lake

This was an important weekend. 30 years ago, almost to the day, we were married. Goodness it seems so long ago and since then a whole generation has disappeared and another arrived. I am not even sure I can recognize myself from that long ago.

Anyway, to celebrate we headed off for a very long-weekend in Castlewellan laden with gifts to be consumed on Sunday and best wishes to be relished. It took us a while to get organised and with various delays, including the boys calling over with gifts, eventually we set off in the late afternoon. The weather was already much warmer than it had been the weekend before.

The touring site was quite busy with folk still here from Easter; many would depart on the Sunday leaving only the earnest and ourselves. The weather was indeed glorious with undeniable heat even this late in the evening.

On Saturday, we began with a trip into the farmyard. After Fermanagh, Pauline had a notion to rent a canoe so we arranged a rental for Sunday morning. We also got directions to a bike shop where Pauline could get replacement pedals.

This was our second trip, away from the park into the mountains along country roads. The views over the hills into this part of the Mournes, over to Slieve Donard and the rest and down to the sea at St. John's Point and Dundrum were all amazing. We could even see what must have been the Isle of Man above St. John's lighthouse. The warmth in the air, the country smells and the general silence all reminded me of the good times in Fintona. I for one could be easily persuaded of a move to the country again.

Third trip now back around the lake for our usual jaunt and returning through the Arboretum. Its seems unreal that it was only a couple of weeks since we were last here. Shrubs and trees are in bloom all over the place: purples and whites and reds and pinks floating in the sunshine to a chorus of spring bird-song. Of all the blooms, a pale pink magnolia virtually explodes with colour. A stonger-pink one down by the Sequoia was just coming into bloom, and a smaller proper white flowered magnolia had been and gone but this very tall tree was festooned with enormous magnolia and pink flowers. It was tucked away in the garden so it was rather difficult to get close to but it virtually shouted with spring colour and vigour over the heads of everything else.

On Sunday we set off on our lakeland adventure. Up to the farmyard to get our life-preservers and then down to lakeside where we carried a 15' Canadian-style canoe into the water. We were able to launch without getting wet, only with the help of one of the Centre's leaders. Off we went.

This boat was very difficult to steer. Pauline in the front and me in the rear; we were paddling at different rates and strength of stroke. The boat was yawing wildly and only generally heading in the direction we wanted to go. It took some time till we managed to get better control over steering but it remained pretty poor except for one patch as we were coming up the lake and got into a rhythm and for a time we kept the canoe going in a near-perfect straight-line.

We gradually crept anti-clockwise round the  lake keeping quite close in-shore as we struggled with the dynamics of the boat. Our destination was the larger of a pair of islands in the north of the lake. The smaller, we were told, hosted otters and was out of bounds (we never saw any of the shy creatures). The larger could be landed on. So we carefully manoeuvred our craft in amongst the tree branches dangling into the lake, to somewhere that looked relatively easy to land. Tieing up fore and aft, the boat steady, Pauline stood and with a deft piece of footwork managed to fall out of the boat into very cold but fortunately shallow water. I took especial care to make sure I did not end up in the drink myself.

While P rearranged herself, I searched the island for a corner the sun was able to get through to and we would have some warmth to help P dry off. But the island was encrusted with wild, tangled trees and it was a major task just to get through them. By now there was enough heat in the day that we could share my dry clothes. And so we were ready to take to the water again.

We paddled down to the far end of the lake where there was something resembling a beach and with considerable messing about I was just about able to scramble ashore but with a number of hefty knocks against granite boulders. We gave up on that idea and just set off again spending the rest of the morning paddling around and across the lake. It was wonderful to sit in the middle of the water just looking about at the stillness. The air was so still and heavy voices carried very far so it was possible to listen in on the chatter of the fishermen on the edges of the lake, and the ramblings of joggers and couples circuiting the lake.

It was a wonderful experience and while we were still high on the wonderment of it all, we grounded the canoe on a sandy stretch and hauled it out of the water, still managing to keep ourselves otherwise dry. By now we are convinced we will have to get some sort of a boat. The day before we had seen an inflatable kayak resting by the lake. Turned out this was being photographed for sale on Ebay; we discovered this when we finally got hold of the girl selling a 2-man Kayak on Gumtree. So our hunt for a kayak begins.

We dined in Hilllyard House, or rather had high-tea - Sunday is not a good time for fine-dining unfortunately, to celebrate our anniversary and most of the chat was about getting a boat and what we could do. The rest of the trip we spent recovering from our extertions fortunately in wonderful warm weather.

Gosford

We arrived in the early evening so there was plenty of time to get settled. Once the tent was up, we all set off for the reverse walk through the forest, to the animal paddocks and eventually the mill race and wheel next the entrance to the site.

As we came out of the woods, in the corner of a paddock, a crows of female deer were grazing. We created as much an occasion for them and admire each other mutually. As the rest of the paddock came into view, the males arrived with their antlers bristling. Their interest certainly seemed slightly less than curious.

By now the temperature was dropping and eventually the overcast sky began to shed its burden whipped along by a cutting wind. The rare breeds of black bulls, multi-horned sheep, poultry and other random farm-yard beasts did not get much attention as we sought shelter.

The next day was seriously sluggish. We all must have needed a good break because we all struggled to find any motivation instead preferring to chill, read a book or whatever. When the sad news came that the Planetarium event we wanted to see was booked out, well we just collapsed in a heap of inactivity.

Eventually we got the energy to prepare for home. Before leaving I set off on at least one decent bike ride through the grounds. Following the supposedly "easy cycle trail" for 6K I wandered round the edges of arboretum and into the forest. Although the trees were only getting ready for the spring, the birds were singing loudly about it; hoping about the branches and flitting between trees. By Greer's Fort - a rath - I decided to pause and see if I could get some pictures of these birds who were proving very elusive but tempting with the flashes of yellow, blue and red feathers.

The rath is fairly large with a variaty of trees surrounding it. In one corner I caught a nest of primroses nicely in bloom. In another while tracking some finches I caught sight of a bushy gray squirrel's tail but by the time I had navigated the puddles and water-logged field I lost its owner up a tree.

Emain Macha

We struggled up this morning and took our time breakfasting and packing up to leave. Headed back into Enniskillen to have lunch down by the Castle where we could watch the long boats and cruisers drift by. The wind was up today so the kids launched their kite in the playing fields by the Forum. Not a very photogenic arena: the back-side of the town and the Forum derelict and being renovated.

After lunch we all agreed to head for Armagh and hopefully visit the Planetarium; the sight of Mars had obviously whetted our appetite for some astronomy. On our way we passed Navan Fort so paused for the visitors centre. Proved to be more expensive than we were prepared for; instead walked up to the fort to be blown away. Enough of an incentive for the kite to come out again. This time it was slightly more photogenic with a wild, overcast sky; it needed Ru's SLR to capture the kite as well as the flyer.

By the time we reached Armagh and the Planetarium, the presentations were over so we booked one for the next day and headed for Gosford looking for a curry shop - something Markethill lacks it seems.

White Island

Well, its Easter Saturday and we hurtled down quick as we could with all 3 kids on board. First stop Omagh to take on refreshments and then a final spurt to Kesh and Clonelly just in time for enough light to setup a tent for the boys. The night sky was remarkably clear and according to the sky-atlas on my netbook,we were able to identify both Mars and Saturn - Mars was especially red and quite distinct.

Next day we headed for Castle Archdale. Arrived in the car park with an open-air religious meet in progress; could not rent a boat for while nor even extra bikes so we went a dander till it rained and we retreated to the van for lunch. Timed it well as by then the boat was free.

Tootled off in the Oyster, all 5 on-board. For me, driving, everything felt very strange. Engine was really sluggish - even flat-out - which meant the steering was not responsive and the boat had a tendency to wallow about quite easily. The balance of the boat was easily upset when someone moved or shifted seats or even just hitting the wash of a passing jet-ski.

First stop was White Island. A ruined 9th Century church had a number of carvings mounted on the wall. Several of the faces were quite grumpy. Gave us plenty of photos, in and around the church walls. But the island was more an excuse to land the boat and recover our confidence than anything so we were all eager to get afloat again.

Having docked pointing the wrong way, took some deft heaving by Niall to haul us right-way-round so we could power out without any special tricks. By now Pauline was loving it, yelling how much she wanted a boat. Quite a surprise given her prior aversion to water craft. We headed round a larger island and behind a third. All the kids taking turns at steering the boat. Reckoned there was nowhere else worth traveling to so we just docked at the largest island and decamped.

I am positive this is an island I took the kids to last time we had a boat, way back in the 80's; the remains of an old house was very familiar. The weather today was a bit quieter than it was the last trip.

Everywhere on the island, wild garlic was getting ready to bloom and the aroma already filled the air in still spots. Found a purplish flower that Niall said was very rare and only found in Crawfordsburn; seemed quite happy where it was here. Walked a fair bit into the island hoping to find picnic seats (as informed by the boat people) hoping to reach another jetty currently out of commission. But to no avail - after at least a mile of following what was left of a wide track deep into the island surrounded by silence, we turned back. Along the way we found numerous examples of a rather odd fungi: very firm with a bright red inverted cap and clean white stem. Thought it very odd to be growing in the spring.

Returned to the jetty where we settled in a clearing for a picnic and to paint our eggs. Climbed the hill beside the ruined house to "roll" our eggs down; more a question of finding a target to aim at to ensure the eggs did not survive. A lake warden came by later to check up on things. Gave us a wave but that was our adventure on the "high seas" of Lough Erne.

Back on land, we headed into Enniskillen to re-provision and finally out to the site near Florencecourt. The evenings already beginning to lengthen for it was quite late now but still plenty of light for the tent to go up.

Down by the Quoile

Instead of just wandering around Castlewellan, we decided to go for a drive and since it was more or less St,Patrick's day, why not head for Downpatrick and visit Saul and related places.

We arrived in Downpatrick and picked up some usefull information in the Centre just below the church. This gave us enough information to head out along the Quoile to Saul and Raholp. The roads got very narrow round here and the traffic annoyingly busy so rather than try to park and visit on foot, we back tracked to the Quoile estruary for lunch.

Parked by the water-side and later walked up to the old quayside; this had been the main landing stage for sailing ships delivering goods into Downpatrick. Now with tidal barriers further down, the quay was surrounded by fresh-water and what had been the Quoile estuary was now a peaceful fresh-water lagoon, a thriving habitat for swans and other wildlife.

We returned to Castlewellan driving through Strangford just as the ferry was rushing to unload its cargo, Ardglass, where Pauline retraced her footsteps from a summer long gone, Killough, still unchanged from what I remember from my first outdoor experience in the youth hostel at Minerstown. and finally past Tyrella House to Clough.

Pre-spring Castlewellan

Our first outing for the season with a new bike for me.

It had taken us much longer than we expected to get organised and issues with the van needing charged did not help. Something up with the electrics had been draining the battery till it was virtually flat while resting over the Winter. Several charges did not seem to wholly rectify things. This was going to be a "careful" trip as we judged how well the van was holding together.

First major test of the bike was the route round the lake; not at all too testing. The bike passed with flying colours, amazingly easy to ride even up the steep incline at the far-end. Despite its 18 gears a low-6 seems more than sufficient. Even able to get up the steep incline into the campsite.

The forst remains starkley naked though. So many of the solitary trees in the parkland showing quite clearly their characteristic shape. Some, like the Weeping Willow, just looking really cool. Took an age to get this image and it still does not really work to show the tree in its full glory.

We finished up checking out the Arboretum, I especially wanted to have another go at the Sequoia thinking the Fibonacci spiral would be further exaggerated with minimal foliage; which it was but images were not much better than the original.

Found still further surprises even at this time of the year with blood-red rhodadendrons well in bloom, a storm struck cedar broken in half and a variety of beautiful barks that normally go unnoticed, normally over-powered by their foilage. Discovered a marvelous Japanese maple which illustrates this well. This particular shrub had three sides draped, like a willow, with a network of fine, bare branches. On the fourth side, the normal growth receded and we can see into the main trunk. As far as I know, these maples are not trained, they are just naturally twisted and gnarled. Clothed in moss just enhances the image with better shadings. Struggled to get any other colour in though, perhaps a good thing to leave the focus on the trunk.

Autumn Colour

Sunday turned out to be grey and damp; rain was not far away. We didn't plan on staying too long as P wanted to get back for her mother's birthday.

First thing, Pauline was up and out on her bike. A sycamore on the far side of the lake had attracted her attention; the yellow colour and surrounding trees were quite autumnal - so I was dispatched for a photo.

Unfortunately I got lost following the "black" trail through a planting area where large numbers of tree species were planted close together and a name plate planted before each set. Mostly common species that didn't look special, but a big group of Chilean Pine looked quite bizarre.

The path out this way was barely fit to walk on. While struggling up one of several steep hills I bumped into a local who thankfully chittered away as I got my breath back. He told us, Donegal has joined the ranks of "No Overnight Camping" sign-posters just like the Scots. Mind you, this was round Bunbeg so maybe its not a generic thing.

Just as I was coming back onto a known path, I came across a batch of possibly Lime trees whose vivid green leaves had turned yellow and sometimes bright red. The forest floor was a carpet of yellow and as rain began to fall, more leaves fluttered down from the branches. I tried to capture the falling leaves but it didn't quite work out.

Shrooms

The woods around the touring site are home to a huge variety of fungi; or so it seems to me.

When we were last here a few weeks ago, I snapped quite a few interesting specimens. This time there are even more. Most often growing either on fallen trees or growing trees perhaps diseased. I caught this little fella peeping out all alone in the leaf litter.

Some look like chanterelle and definitely good to eat. Others were dangerous for sure, looking like decomposed meat - dark and probably very smelly.

I should put all these fungi pictures up somewhere so someone can name them for me...

Misty Morning

Saturday morning and the previous nights forecast turned out to be accurate. From 7:00am or earlier, a fog covered the land. Bands of mist floated above the lake. Trees hid amongst swirling cloud just waiting for mysterious horsemen to gallop from nowhere.

There was a lot of activity toward the field above us, cars and vans to-ing and fro-ing. While P drifted down toward the lakes, I cycled up the hill to see what was going on.

I didn't need to go far before I discovered crowds of PS kids making a racket just standing still in groups. Several tents were being erected in the field; looks like some was expecting to camp over-night!

Continued up through the forest and after turning left off the road onto a track barely visible beneath the copper carpet of leaf litter, I came across a fine view through the trees to the sun forcing its way through the mist. The forest bordered farmland here; the grass was covered in so many spider webs glittering with dew, it looked as it snow had fallen or an extreme hoar frost had hit. On the brow of the hill, six trees were dimly visible through the mist.

Some very atmospheric pictures like this one of a web spun between hawthorn branches in the hedgerow.

Sloes in Drum Manor

This weekend we went hunting for sloes down Cookstown way.

We rushed off so quick we had hardly any food to eat; not at all like us. Paused in Magherafelt for what P reckoned should be the finest chips in the province - well, West of the Bann anyways. Sadly they did not live up to expectations. While P fetched the chips, I went in search of some wine to accompany them. Searched through a local mall and not a whiff of a bottle shop; I had to ask in Dunnes where the nearest offy was and suddenly my head sprouted horns. Oops

Arrived fairly late and had a panic refill of water as P had emptied it all on her last trip. The regular Drum Manor site was full to capacity - must be the final weekend of the "Caravanners Club" (we bumped into them last year about this time in Gosford). It promised to be a cold night - not a cloud in the sky but a wonderful view of the Milky Way.

The Drum Manor Triffid

Off to Cookstown this weekend searching for the elusive Blackthorn. We spotted some down in Fermanagh but there were not many; I suspect we were parked beside a sloe bush in Cookstown then so we will have to check...

Yip, it was a sloe bush - so we now know of two new sources (in addition to the Nendrum tree), all we need is the first frost and we can start picking.

Encouraged by this first bush, expected there would be more nearby so I wandered off through the forest. Found loads of mushrooms - or toadstools.and what appeared to be blackthorn but with no berries. Next to the field just above the site, a hedgerow formed the boundary between the forest and the open space - a mixture of hawthorn, holly and blackthorn. But still no berries, not even haws.

Kept walking through the trees as the light began to fade. Came across this wondrous tree sprawling with branches all akimbo. In the twilight it looked most impressive but despite various attempts with and without flash and even in the clear light of day (this picture), I couldn't replicate that moment I first encountered it.

Castlewellan

It seems like a long time since we were away, but its only a couple of weeks.

Zoomed quickly to Castlewellan planning to take the bikes up the long path over the hills.

As preparation, skirted the lake as usual and caught this amazing view with the lake almost as still as glass with near perfect reflection of the trees and hillside.

Next day we set off up the hill this time with Erinne's picnic backpack getting its first airing. After the entrance to the Arboretum, the starting hills were extremely steep forcing us to walk only. The first viewpoint was a welcome recovery point. But it seems my recovery rate is not what it was - not much further on, a group of visiting Poles made fun at my expense as I stood gasping for air. Soo embarrassing!

Finally made it to the top, even up to the trig point.

Along the ridge to spectacular viewpoint looking across the forest, the lake and beyond with Slieve Donard just visible in the distance. Very difficult to get a photo to do justice to this sort of view.

After this is was downhill all the way and it did not take long to descend, the hills were steep with bikes racing at dizzying speeds - began to make notes to self about buying a helmet.

Lakelands

Ah, the Bank Holiday Weekend - we needed this break.

Started on Friday with a quick jaunt to Drum Manor, Cookstown. Think this was the first time I had visited Drum Manor with a bike so spent the next day exploring the lake and other paths.

The park has quite a varied landscape around the lakes or ponds. Formal paths infront of the old house ruins, running down to the lakeside. Regular shale forest paths through different parts of the forest. Then almost tracks through plantation areas.

We wanted to get to the Lakes in Fermangh so we headed off before much longer and just managed to Clonelly as darkness was descending.

The next day we spent mostly at Castle Archdale. First we cycled from the marina car park round the coastal path exploring some of the outlying remants from the war. On one section of shore - perhaps by the "Burma Road" found a sloe bush reasonably lush with fruit; one to remember for the future.

We continued round through parkland arriving at the Butterfly Garden. The day had heated up nicely so this was very pleasant; first walking through the wildflowers in bloom: red, yellow and blue flowers. Caught a poppy head with almost translucent petals. In a section of several Buddleia, several different types of butterfly flitted about the bushes. Was quite difficult to get a decent picture with wings open and lit properly.

We finished up at the remains of the Castle itself and took in the Wartime Airbase exhibition. I remembered this from when we visited from Fintona. The exhibits had improved I suspected cos they kept me well interested. When we started to get hungry, headed into Enniskillen to sample the Greek restaurant