Light and water

I feel that life in the UK at this time of year is all about the light, the short days and low sun angle, when there is sun. I now have a theory that the intensity of Christmas (solstice) celebrations is directly proportional to latitude, although I admit that I have only a few data points! But here Christmas lights (mostly blue, for some reason) appeared in the city in early November, along with displays in the shops. Of the lights I’ve seen, those in Bath, however, are the most elegant (as well they should be). Bath also hosts a holiday market in the center of town - I want to go back to explore someday this week... and to taste the roasted chestnuts that fill the frosty air with a wonderful smell.

Ads for booking Christmas parties at pubs and restaurants make their appearance in September. Which illustrates the importance of the Christmas party as a cultural icon. And I’ve been invited to several. The sailing club Christmas party was on Dec 1, at a pub near me called the Rose of Denmark.

[historic note - the pub is named for Alexandra of Denmark, who was married to Albert Edward, Queen Victoria’s son, and was thus Princess of Wales... for a long time, given that Victoria’s longevity was similar to that of the current queen, thus Albert was in the same position as Prince Charles! But he did finally gain the throne in 1901, at which point her official title became, apparently, queen-empress consort to King Edward VII]
 
The volcanology group Christmas party is on Wednesday, at a pub called the Eldon. The department Christmas party is on Friday, in the department. And then on Saturday the sailing club is holding its “Mince Pie race” - I’ve volunteered my house as a place to heat up mince pies and mulled cider after the race ... it’s definitely getting sufficiently cold that no one feels like hanging around outside the pub after an afternoon on the water! There are a few more Christmas parties next week, but by then I will be back in Eugene.

One benefit of the low light, however, is that it provides nice illumination for photography. I thought I’d merge photos and accounts of a few different short trips/walks from the past month + (I’m afraid it’s been a very long time since the last blog!  Oops). 

Let’s see, the farthest afield I’ve been in the UK has been Durham, a picturesque little town in Northumberland, in the northeast, just south of Newcastle. I went there to give a seminar (my usual excuse for traveling around the country), and had an enjoyable day talking to people in the department, and then the next morning to myself, for a wander around town. It was an intensely clear and frosty morning - perfect for seeing Durham’s famed cathedral and castle. The cathedral and castle together occupy a narrow peninsula created by a big meander in the River Wear. 


According to the cathedral website, it is not only an icon of the north but also one of the UK’s best loved buildings... and, together with the castle, is one of the UK’s first World Heritage sites. The cathedral is Norman in style, built during the 11th and 12th centuries. The cathedral was built as a shrine for St. Cuthbert, the patron saint of northern England (he was most famously, at least for me, a Bishop of Lindisfarne, the “holy island” that lies just off the Northumberland coast).


The castle was constructed shortly after the Norman conquest to provide protection against invaders from the north. It was then the Bishop’s palace until being taken over by the University, where it is now a residence hall. I was too early for a tour of the castle, but photos in a brochure that I bought suggest that the resident students have a truly Harry Potter-esque experience, as the castle has a Great Hall that looks remarkably like the hall at Hogwarts.


I’ve managed only a few excursions closer to home recently - too much time spent stressing about proposals and the like. BUT after pushing the “submit” button on a proposal on Tuesday morning, I decided to take advantage of clear skies and revisit one of my favorite walks along the canal that runs between Bradford-on-Avon and Bath (about 9 miles... a walk that I last did with niece Susie and her friend Eric over a year ago). When we did the the walk it was autumn... last week it was definitely winter, with cold air, leafless trees, the dried remnants of vegetation and the low sun often unable to illuminate the valley. 

The canal was constructed for transport of coal... my time here has made me appreciate how difficult transport was prior to modern roads and rail. Which is why the coasts and offshore islands were heavily populated - transport by boat was relatively easy, and islands and narrow bays are easily defended. The canal was the next step - it parallels the river but is carefully graded for long horizontal stretches connected by locks, such that the canal crosses the river on a high bridge in two places between Bradford-on-Avon and Bath. The canals, however,ceased to be used with the construction of the railways, and then the highways; both the railway and the highway parallel the canal and the river along this part of the Avon.



Once a working canal, it now hosts a community of river denizens in narrow boats - I was surprised at how many there were, permanent homes for the mobile narrow boat community. On a chilly Tuesday morning they were the only people I saw along the stretches of canal between the small villages along the route. Close to the villages there were other runners and walkers taking advantage of the clear skies. I love the stillness of the water and mirrored reflections of the narrow boats and vegetation alike. 


The last part of the walk into Bath isn’t quite so interesting, but Bath itself is always lovely. I try to take a slightly different route into the city each time - this time I happened on the house that Jane Austen lived in from 1801-1805. The house itself is modest, but it has a great location across the street from Bath’s public gardens, and just around the corner from the much more upscale Great Poultney Street...

Odd to think that Jane Austen was living in Bath just as the Somerset Coal Canal was being constructed. Which leads to the last story of the blog. Another person living near Bath at the same time is someone who is famously (in geologic circles) associated with the Somerset Coal Canal - William Smith, author of the “map that changed the world” (the first geologic map, one copy of which resides in the tea room in our department). Apparently the first draft of his map was actually completed in 1801 (the same year that Jane Austen moved to Bath), although he did not publish the final version until 1815. And back in October I went on a William Smith walk with Jon Blundy and his daughter Lillian. 

Only I didn’t know that it was a William Smith walk when we started out... Jon just told me that I’d enjoy it, and that there would be some surprises along the walk (he also told me to be prepared for mud, which is true for many walks in the area).  We started at a tiny village called South Stoke, just a few miles south of Bath, and then walked east toward Monkton Combe [“combe” means valley in old English, “Monkton” refers to the fact that it was once owned by the monks of Bath Abbey]. A lovely day with perfect puffy white clouds floating over the Alice Through the Looking Glass chessboard landscape of this part of the world.

The walk followed a leafy and now abandoned section of the coal canal and included not only the usual pub stop for lunch (in a walled garden) but also a conveniently placed tire swing. We then popped out in Tucking Mill (in Monkton Combe), where William Smith lived for many years, while he was working on his geologic map. It's actually a sad story... the map was published in 1815. By 1819 he was in debtor's prison, and although he did manage to get out, he never quite recovered, and never returned to Tucking Mill or the Bath region.

And so back to a gray December morning on the harbor. Although I can’t complain, as the past week has been mostly clear and on a few days I’ve been treated to beautiful sunrises ... it’s amazing how far the sun has moved south around the horizon, so that to properly appreciate the sunrise I need to walk along the harbor toward the center of town.