'Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside!'.........

........especially on days like this.

The sun has been shining all day, a wonderful change from the rather gloomy and wet weather we have had recently and this prompted us to make the most of it by going for a drive in our freshly polished steed.

Wrea Green, with 'The Grapes' and church in the background.

First stop was a splendid tavern, 'The Grapes', between Kirkham and Lytham St Annes in Lancashire, where we quaffed some splendid real ale sitting outside in the sun. Whilst there, my wife pointed out that we hadn't driven the Mog along the promenade at Blackpool and that sounded like an excellent idea.

Lytham St Annes

After a brief stop at the RNLI shop in Lytham we travelled along the coast, enjoying a measure of sophistication, until the Blackpool boundary was passed and we entered a different world, a brash, gaudy, noisy place, built solely for fun.... not the sort of fun we enjoy, but many people do.

The 'Big One'

In its shadow.

There is no place like it and it is still the most visited resort in Britain, if not Europe. Gone are the times when thousands of people shuffled down the promenade passed my father's fancy goods shop in the 'Palace Varieties' buildings (long gone) and were crammed deckchair to deckchair on the beaches.

'Cinderella' presumably!

However,  Blackpool still draws the crowds even now, mainly for day trips or short breaks, but those glory days, when people from industrial Lancashire, Yorkshire and elsewhere used to spend their summer holidays here, before cheap holidays on the Costas became the vogue, are a part of history.

Sadly, the Tower is having some sort of paint job, that seems to be taking an inordinately long time to complete and is partially shrouded in polythene, so it's more graceful lines have been somewhat lost.

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Musing about the future

Unlike my dear Morgan friend in Sweden, I am not forced by weather conditions to lay-up the car in Winter, which he is doing at the present time. Fortunately it is usually possible to enjoy a few drives during the dark months, when conditions allow.

However, I do like to keep the Morgan in first class shape and especially at this time of year and feel it  desirable that the body should have a good waxing, the hood a good clean and of course all the brightwork cleaned and polished.

Gleaming again!

It was while completing this task, in a garage well protected from the howling wind outside, that I pondered the decision by the Board of the Morgan Company to oust Charles Morgan.

In the light of this important development and in the absence of any announcement from the Board about the future direction of the Company, there is bound to be a high level of speculation.

On reading the news in the Daily Telegraph Business Section and the comments of his wife concerning 'greed' amongst other members of the family and the Board, it suggests to me that these people might have ill-founded grandiose ideas about the Company's future.

As I said to another Morgan chum, if they are keen to move away from the enviable niche position that Morgan enjoys in the marketplace and have hopes of lining their pockets by going into the mainstream, they would, in my opinion, be extremely misguided

It is the eccentricity of this hand-built marque, even at the most expensive model level, that is it's attraction and from where it's success stems.

The Board needs to be very sensitive to the key and unusual attractions of the product before allowing their imaginations to run away with them.

I do hope that they have the nous not to kill the goose that has laid the golden egg!

Cruising down the River

In 1954, when I was a young chap of 11, I made my first visit with my family to the Norfolk Broads and that holiday sowed the seeds for a deep and lasting affection for that area.

With its huge skies, boundless wildlife and slow moving rivers and broads, fringed by whispering reed beds, it has a unique appeal and linked with my enduring love of boats, has constantly drawn me back. Indeed my wife and I spent our honeymoon there in 1966, on a fine vessel called 'Star Glory' from the yard of Jack Powles in Wroxham and when our own family was young we spent happy times just messing about in boats.

Sunset, Oulton Dyke

So it was that I responded to that deep seated urge to return yet again and booked a four day short break on 'Silver Mirage' from Silverline Marine "http//:www.silverlinemarine.co.uk", on the River Yare at Brundall near Norwich. My crew were my illustrious wife and her sister, who I hoped had not forgotten how to tie a clove-hitch since our last visit, or lost the ability to leap into the unknown as the Commander made his attempts to bring our vessel within jumping distance of the mooring. On both counts my expectations were ill-founded!

Moored stern-on in Beccles Yacht Station

It's quite a long slog across country from Lancashire so we decided to spend a night in Thetford, to break the journey, in one of those 'purple' hotels that in a previous post I was quite critical of.

Whether or not their training team had taken to heart my criticism on 'Trip Adviser' following that earlier visit I don't know, but not once did I hear 'Hi-ya y'alright there!' and neither were we referred to as 'guys' preceded by the aforementioned phrase, in the restaurant! In fact any greeting was a civilised hello or good morning which pleased this miserable old git immensely.

Early morning Worlingham Staithe

The approach to the boatyard is always exciting. Would our chosen vessel be as gorgeous as we expected or would it have been holed by the bowsprit of a passing yacht or perhaps had its canopy swept aside under a low bridge by an incompetent skipper who was unable to understand the tide tables?

We need not have worried, there she lay at her mooring, resplendent in the sunshine awaiting our arrival. The owner of the yard greeted us and having sorted out the paperwork, the business of unloading our provisions from the Volvo and into the boat proceeded apace.

On the River Waveney en route for Loddon

Why is it that we always take with us three times the amount of clothing that we are likely to need and our food and drink supplies would have been more appropriate to the needs of the 'Queen Mary 2'!  Honestly, anyone would have thought that we were setting off on a voyage around Cape Horn and beyond!

Anyway, following an in-depth conversation with the boatyard owner about the benefits of owning a Morgan  as he was thinking of buying one,(he had spotted my MSCC sticker on the car), we set off into the wide blue yonder

Herringfleet Drainage Mill

As we only had 4 days it had been decided to concentrate on the southern rivers of the system, the Yare, the Waveney and the Chet and our first overnight mooring was in Oulton Dyke which leads into Oulton Broad, the very place where, as a boy, all those years ago, I had gazed at that lovely cruiser with its varnished mahogany gleaming in the sunshine that was to be our holiday home for a week.Incidentally it was hired from a certain Jim Hoseason who was just setting up, what is now a huge holiday organisation from his small boatyard at Oulton.

The next day we had a leisurely cruise up the River Waveney to Beccles where this ageing 'plonker' made two very embarrassing blunders!

Moored at Loddon

En route to Beccles we stopped to fill up with water and found that I couldn't engage the bow thrusters, a very useful modern addition to cruisers that greatly assist in the whole mooring process. The boatyard was duly phoned and the engineer said that he would meet us in Beccles to effect a repair.

Calm evening at Loddon

We moored stern on in the Yacht Station and the young lady Harbour Master advised that I should lower the mudweight (a large heavy lump of metal) from the bow to stop any swinging from side to side.This was done and we waited for the engineer, who arrived as arranged, promptly went to the thruster control, pressed them and found that there was not a thing wrong with them....it was the Commander's ineptitude or downright stupidity to blame. Thoroughly embarrassing.

After waving the engineer goodbye, accompanied by many apologies, we walked into the town to top up provisions, buy postcards (my wife and sister love to send postcards) and have lunch and a beer.

Loddon Staithe

On our return to the boat the engine was started, the two stern mooring lines stowed and we set off assisted by fully functioning bow thrusters. We had travelled barely 20 yards when we heard a strangled cry from a lady in a cruiser moored close by, kindly informing us that our mudweight was still down!

This was a situation that demanded the swiftest action to prevent anyone else seeing our plight and compounding our embarrassment. The Commander brought the vessel to a halt, handed the helm to his wife and leapt forward to the bow and hauled the weight on to the deck where he virtually collapsed, having forgotten that he is no longer the sprightly and strong person of his youth!

Rockland St Mary Staithe

We moored for the night at a village staithe where we were joined by a group of fishermen who positioned themselves off our bow and talked and fished until 3.30AM when they finally left us in peace....an interesting day!

Magical last morning, Rockland Broad

Fortuately the rest of the holiday was less eventful and we spent a beautiful evening in Loddon on the River Chet and our final night was spent moored on the village staithe at Rockland St Mary, where fortuitously there is a fine tavern, The New Inn, recently taken over and refurbished, where we enjoyed a very pleasant evening meal.

Just wonderful!

Dawn on our last day was sensational, it was calm, the sun shining through a low mist that hung over the river and Rockland Broad as we made our way to the boatyard, always a sad moment and four days is just not enough....I envied the couple moored alongside us at Rockland St Mary who had just enjoyed two weeks in this delightful part of the country.

Journeys end, Brundall on the River Yare

A pootle in the Dales.

Assured by the Meteorological Office that we were to enjoy the last gloriously sunny day, before a change in the weather would herald the approach of Autumn, we decided to venture into the Yorkshire Dales.

Following our usual route via Hornby in the Lune Valley, Thornton-in-Lonsdale and Ingleton we travelled to Hawes, passed the Ribblesdale Viaduct that carries the Settle/Carlisle railway line and savouring the fabulous moorland scenery with the flat-topped Ingleborough mountain always present.

Above Hawes at the start of the 'Buttertubs Pass'

From Hawes we drove over the Buttertubs Pass and into Swaledale, where we intended to have a look at the little village of Muker. Little did we know that our visit just happened to coincide with the Muker Agricultural Show, always held on the first Wednesday in September.

Apparently it is a delightful, friendly, traditional Show and certainly very popular, as the place was absolutely heaving with humanity. The beauty of the village was somewhat blighted by this onslaught and so, being slightly averse to large crowds and vast numbers of cars, we beat a hasty retreat. Miserable 'b....rs' I hear you say!

Wain Wath Force

We had a picnic to enjoy, not the usual one that borders on a gastronomic extravaganza, but a single delicious, mouth-watering pork pie, purchased from one of our friendly local suppliers.

The spot we chose to consume this succulent item was Wain Wath Force, a beautiful waterfall just upstream of Keld, where the River Swale is in its infancy.

On then, travelling north along Birkdale, to Nateby and Kirby Stephen, on the upper reaches of the River Eden before turning west to Sedbergh, Kirby Lonsdale and home, stopping for that welcome pint enroute at the 'Fat Lamb' public house at Ravenstonedale "www.http://fatlamb.co.uk".

Outside the 'Fat Lamb'

Interestingly the 'Black Sheep Ale' which I was drinking with some relief and pleasure was brewed by Paul Theakston, who named the ale after leaving the family brewing firm of 'Theakstons' to set up his own operation in Masham, hence the name 'Black Sheep'!

Apparently, the landlord at the 'Fat Lamb' has a keen interest in classic cars but sadly he wasn't there, so the inevitable discussion between the two of us was missed. There's always next time!

Lovely weekend and a Morgan picnic.

Just south of Ludlow and overlooking the A49 is a beautiful old house, it's a house that time appears to have forgotten!

Our accommodation.

We had rented this very large house in order to accommodate our immediate family and also extended family members on the Sunday, when we would celebrate both my eldest daughter's 40th birthday in July and my 70th in October

After the initial shock, when we had to come to terms with a home where little had changed since the 50's and indeed where items remained in place from the time it was built in the 20's, we had a truly wonderful time

The rope swing!

A key factor was the space available, both inside the house itself and in the huge garden, which is surrounded by the gorgeous pastoral landscape of Shropshire

The 'shot putt'!

Following a brief visit to Ludlow, to renew our acquaintance with that lovely, historic market town and to stock up on food, we returned, much to the childrens' delight to the rambling acres of our abode. Oh, how they loved the tree house and the rope swing, both attached to a massive fir tree.

The relay!

On Saturday, the Shropshire 'Olympics' were held, an event supremely organised by one of my sons-in-law and ably assisted by the other. The children enjoyed it immensely in the glorious sunshine.

The 'Hammer' with son-in-law scrutineering.

The event on Sunday was a great success, although sadly it rained and four members of the contingent were unable to attend due to infantile disease (chicken pox) !

We returned home on Monday and thoughts turned to the possibility of managing a picnic in the Morgan which took place yesterday, a lovely drive into the fells to one of 'our favourite spots'.

But it did turn out rather chilly!

It has to be said that the British Meteorological Office do a good job, but somehow this time, certainly as far as the Forest of Bowland was concerned, they got the temperature wrong. It was perishing and this meant an early return to the coast where temperatures were more acceptable.

Three days in the English Lake District

The invitation to attend the 40th wedding anniversary celebrations of two of our friends, who live just south of Carlisle, presented the opportunity to perhaps build a short break around the event.

We don't need much encouragement to get away, so an apartment was booked with Sally's Cottages of Keswick, http://www.sallyscottages.co.uk , packing completed, only a large soft bag necessary for this trip plus our picnic bag, and off we went.

Fortunate we are to have the Lake District on our doorstep, offering wonderful touring opportunities in perhaps one of the most beautiful areas of the UK.

The pictures tell the story.

This was taken in the car park at the 'Travellers Rest', in the shadow of Helm Crag (The Lion and the Lamb) at Grasmere.

At 'The Borrowdale Gates Hotel' http://borrowdale-gates.com in Borrowdale, where we stopped for some fluid sustenance!

 

Looking north up the Borrowdale valley.

Derwentwater, note the American taking a photograph of the car....or was it my wife!

Outside our apartment at Cocklakes Farm, just off the A66 Penrith-Keswick road. The fishing lake in the distance.

A shot of your hero fly fishing! Sadly the trout weren't hungry and I caught nothing. I had to hire the tackle as my rod wouldn't fit in the Morgan!

Outside the 'Sharrow Bay Country House Hotel' with Ullswater in the background....and no we did not stay there! Do you think we are made of money?.....it was just a good photo opportunity! http://www.sharrowbay.co.uk

Above Howtown on the southern shore of Ullswater, with the lake in the background.

Oh, what a joy touring in the Morgan, especially in country such as this!

Homeward bound, with Ullswater and Glenridding in the background. Very soon we would be in those clouds above the village as we climbed to the summit of Kirkstone Pass.

Headlights on in the murk, outside the 'Kirkstone Pass Inn', at 1500 feet above sea level the highest pub in Cumbria. "Who comes not hither ne'er shall know, how beautiful the world below"

Whoever penned those lines was absolutely correct. This was taken at the summit looking down the valley towards the northern shores of Windermere.

                                            CHEERS!










Everything in the garden is lovely.....

......and the Morgan's not so bad either!

The heatwave continues and thankfully being by the sea, there is always a gentle breeze to keep temperatures sensible. Last weekend when we were at our daughter's home in Surrey the heat was quite insufferable.

However, what the heat has done, is create a profusion of growth in both our formal garden and our vegetable patch.

We've already enjoyed our first peas and early potatoes, the first pickings of gooseberries and rhubarb have been made into pies by my wonderful wife, and those are in the freezer.We are looking forward to our heaviest crop of blackcurrants in the next couple of days.....and the broad beans are looking good as well. Runner beans and blackberries will follow in due course as will the 'Cox's Orange Pippin apples on our little tree.

The old 'Victoria Plum' tree produced a considerable number of baby plums and I have thinned these out dramatically to ensure that we get a crop of good sized fruit.

Amidst all these horticultural activities, neither the old Volvo or the Morgan have escaped attention and yesterday we escaped in the Mog for a lovely day trip to see one of my old chums in the Lake District. His wife is currently in Kentucky and we thought it would be good to visit him to make sure that he wasn't starving to death or not looking after himself properly!

The 'Hot Pot' stop

Well that was our excuse for going, although the plan did offer the opportunity for us to clamber, sorry, fall into the Mog and drive off into the blistering sun, before it sets on this sceptred isle and we once again have to endure the dismal, cold, wet weather the UK so often has to endure.

The drive north was lovely and included a brief stop to pick up a 'hot pot' en route,at my pal's favourite confectioner, a fuel stop where we spoke to the owner of another Morgan, Bryan Rawlinson, Treasurer of 'Norcemog', and a stop in Grange over Sands at my favourite butcher for Black Pudding and various other delicacies.

'Black Pudding' stop at Grange over Sands

I say the trip was lovely, which it was, but we were delayed by Cumbria Council deciding to resurface the road from Newby Bridge to Lakeside, Windermere, during a holiday period and also when the road temperature was extremely high. You can almost guess the situation.....that was the date they set to complete the job and that was that, no possibility of changing the arrangement, regardless of the heatwave (already a few days old) or the fact that it is lunacy to do a job like that on a very busy narrow road in the holiday season!!!!!!

At our friends' house in Finsthwaite

It did however raise a potential problem for us in our lovely Morgan. The tar was virtually running on the newly laid surface, with stone chippings flying everywhere, threatening to make an awful mess of 'Nellie'.
Fortunately, knowing an alternative route, we were only on the wretched stuff for a hundred yards, but it was not until we were well down the motorway on our return journey that the last chippings flew off our tyres!

What a great day. Everything about the car is lovely.....and the garden's not so bad either!