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Where We Walked @Slebech Park Country Estate @Pembrokeshire @Wales

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This morning, with the weather fine, though a little chilly, we wrap up and take another of our favourite walks. As usual, Slebech Park Country Estate doesn’t fail to provide great views, some glorious wild flowers, and impressively maintained grounds.

Over the years we’ve visited the park many times, in all weathers, at all times of the year. Maybe Spring is our favourite season here – or maybe summer – or autumn – or even winter, when even the bleakness of the days can’t detract from the scenery.

We’ve walked the trail from Canaston Bridge, always looking forward to our first glimpse of the Cleddau. Sometimes, as a tidal river, the water is low, the mud flats glistening in the sun, sometimes it’s high, lapping quietly against the banks, and with ducks and seagulls floating on the surface alongside one another.

Today, though, is different. Not wanting to walk along the usual, longer path from Canaston Bridge, we park in a layby alongside the busy road to Haverfordwest, climb stiles, walk along a rough track – muddy from recent rain – and alongside the estate farm.

And say hello to the lambs, in the nearby field, who fix their eyes on us until we are safely past them.

This morning the tide is in.

But the ducks are quite elusive. Except for one!

We saunter around the park, conscious that we are actually carrying out a recce for a stroll for members of our local U3a: somewhere fairly flat, easy walking … and no stiles!!

With moments when we are able to stop – to admire – to just be! …

Time for lunch! We walk back to the car, having established that a stroll around the estate will be enjoyed by all.

The history of Slebech Park:

The origin of the word Slebech is thought by some to be derived from a Viking term meaning “Stoney Beach.” It is likely that Vikings sailed inland to Slebech on raiding parties and, upon seeing its commanding position on the river and small harbor, viewed it as a place of refuge. Slebech has long held a significant place in the history of Wales. From the 6th century onwards, it served as a major meeting point for pilgrims traveling to St. David’s Cathedral. Over the centuries, it has been visited by notable figures including William the Conqueror, Henry II, Edward I, and Queen Eleanor.

The estate’s history is intertwined with social stratifications of the time, as it hosted lands divided for the rich and poor. A “Beggars’ Field” is believed to have existed, though its location remains undiscovered. In recognition of its importance, Pope Calixtus decreed that two visits to St. David’s equaled one pilgrimage to Rome.
The oldest building standing today is the Norman tower in the estate’s 12th-century church. Likely part of a watchtower, it strategically overlooks the river. This site was connected to other Norman castles, forming a defensive line across Pembrokeshire. During the 13th and 14th centuries, Slebech became home to Wales’s most powerful monastic foundation, managed by the Knights of St. John (formerly the Knights Templar, now known as St. John’s Ambulance). The hospice here made Slebech a crucial gathering point for knights embarking on crusades. In fact, knights killed in foreign battles had their hearts pickled and reburied in the church crypt and on Dog Island, now a Scheduled Ancient Monument. A 12th-century sword, found on Dog Island, is now displayed in the Welsh National Museum.
Slebech’s prominence waned during Henry VIII’s Reformation when the powerful Commandery was disbanded, and its lands were redistributed. Today, only the 12th-century church, some tunnels, and remnants of thick walls from Slebech Hall remain from this period. The rest of the estate’s medieval structures were destroyed during the English Civil War.
After being sold by the Crown, the estate came into the hands of Roger Barlow, a powerful Tudor gentleman and close confidant of Henry VIII. An adventurer, Barlow sailed with the Spanish fleet on voyages to the Americas. The Barlow family owned Slebech until the 18th century, when Catherine Barlow inherited the estate. Catherine married Sir William Hamilton, but died childless in 1782. Sir William later married Lady Emma Hamilton, famous for her affair with Admiral Lord Nelson. When Sir William died, he was buried alongside his first wife, Catherine, in Slebech’s old churchyard.
Slebech Hall, one of Wales’s finest Georgian manor houses, was constructed in the 1750s. It was reputedly designed by architect Anthony Keck, also believed to have designed Highgrove House, home to Prince Charles. Around the same time, the estate’s modest granary buildings were transformed into stables and coach houses, some of which still retain their original charm today. These buildings were castellated, inspired by nearby Picton Castle. Slebech Hall remains largely intact and is Grade II* listed, with future plans to restore it to its original grandeur and incorporate it into the hotel operations.
The estate later passed to Nathaniel Phillips, a Jamaican sugar plantation owner known for his duels and his marriage at 65 to a 19-year-old heiress from Picton Castle. His daughter, Mary Dorothea, married Baron De Rutzen, an eccentric figure who built the “back to front” church on the A40, an imposing structure still standing today. The family line ended with John Frederick Foley, who died in Italy during WWII.
During WWII, Slebech was used by the US Army as they prepared for D-Day, with local lore suggesting a Willis jeep remains submerged in the estate’s lake—a symbol of youthful folly.
Eventually, the estate was sold to the Honorable William Phillips, father of Geoffrey Mark Phillips, who began the current hotel operation. The Phillips name quietly exited the estate’s history in 2013, marking the beginning of a new chapter.
Today, Slebech Park continues to welcome travelers, just as it has for over a thousand years. With its rich history, bespoke bedrooms, fine dining, and serene walks through stunning landscapes, Slebech offers a truly historic and unique destination that embodies both luxury and heritage.

The above history of the estate is courtesy of: https://www.slebech.co.uk/

Where We Walked The Triangle #LochRannoch #Kinloch Rannoch #Scotland

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Or rather strolled!.This walk was part of a couple of the short walks we had over our stay as guests with one of the members at the Loch Rannoch Highland Club.

It truly is a wonderful place to stay, with every one of the lodges overlooking Loch Rannoch. The Photographer took this photo on our first night we arrived. We were hooked! It snowed, but soon cleared and we had four glorious days. The Triangle walk was an easy morning’s stroll that we found on the third day.

We’d previously passed a stone on the edge of the grounds of the club. That morning we stopped to read the inscription.

Hmm – not a cheerful tale! The Clach-a-Mharslin (Stone of the Packman) is the legend of a pedlar, travelling with a pack slung over his shoulders. Sitting down by the stone to rest, he put his pack on top of the stone. The pack slipped down the back of the stone, the loop tightening around his neck. Trapped, the heavy pack strangled him.

The Triangle walk is exactly what it says: we headed south from the loch to Kinloch Rannoch. Following our map, we left the village and walked along a lane for half a mile along the road that eventually leads to Aberfeldy.

Believe it or not, there are deer here. We had trouble spotting them as well – they were all lying down.

We turned right onto Bunrannoch road, a long stetch of lane near the edge of the Dall Estate, which dates back to 1347. (We were told by the man in the village shop – the residents of Kinnloch Rannoch are such a friendly lot – that the estate surrounds Dall House, built in 1855 as the new seat of the Robertson Clan (Clan Donnachaidh) and gifted by Robert the Bruce for service in the Scottish Wars of Independence.)

There is little to be seen of the old Rannoch village. But we were lucky enough to chat with an elderly man who explained that there were possible plans for another archeological dig being planned. And that the mounds were the remains of a settlement: three prehistoric roundhouses, two larger early historic monumental roundhouses, and five medieval longhouses. He also said that in the 1990s, archaeological digs at Bunrannoch had discovered some bronze axes, and that, in the nineteenth century, a bronze armlet, a form of Scottish Iron Age jewellery belonging to aristocracy and a symbol of power and prestige in the first and second centuries AD, was found. Artefacts all now in collections in the National Museum of Scotland.

It just shows – always stop to chat to fellow walkers!!

The walk passes the base of Schiehallion, one mountain we weren’t tempted to climb. Though the Photographer was so impressed by the symmetry of it he took many photographs.

And back to the village. Triangle completed, a lovely easy stroll. We crossed the bridge over the Tummel River. The water was high and deep, swiftly running after all the many previous weeks’ rain.

There’s an inscription on Rannoch Bridge that reads “THIS BUILDING ERECTED A.D. 1764 AT THE SOLE EXPENSE OF HIS MAJESTY OUT OF THE ANNEXED ESTATES”. It’s obviously propaganda intended to show the personal generosity of George 111 after the 1745 Jacobite Rising when the British government confiscated the estates of Highland leaders who supported the rebellion. Though the profits gained were used to fund trade and agricultural developments in Scotland and, I guess, went someway, maybe, to improve stewardship of the estates forfeited.

At the village square we stopped at the Buchanan monument, Dedicated to Dugald Buchanan (1716–1768), a famous Gaelic poet known for religious poetry, such as Judgement Day. He was crucial in translating the New Testament into Scottish Gaelic and operated a school in the area.

Previously, this was also the site of gallows.

And then took the path alongside the Tummel river, past the weir. Kinloch Rannoch Weir is a low-level dam located at the eastern end of Loch Rannoch, and controls the outflow of water into the River Tummel towards Dunalastair Reservoir. As part of the wider Tummel Hydro-Electric Scheme, it regulates loch levels for environmental and power generation purposes. It is a Grade B listed structure and is believed to date back to the 18th century.

A short walk, but one that gave us a chance to discover a little of the history of Kinnloch Rannoch.

Arriving back at lodges that evening, we treated ourselves to a meal at the Loch Rannoch Highland hotel, the independently-owned hotel that’s on the same site as the club. We could have used the pool and spa there, but not having brought our swimsuits – well we forgot, it was February after all – we didn’t. However we did have some excellent food there.

My Review of Driven by Deceit (A Shade Darker Book 5) by Georgia Rose

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Crack the façade… Expose the truth…

A toxic arrival. The villagers enthralled. What will it take to show the reality of what lives among them?

Laura Brown has already had a tough year. What she doesn’t need is someone making it worse. But when her friend’s cottage is rented out, that’s exactly what happens as her life, and the village she loves, are invaded by someone from her past.

Laura has learned how to react to her abuser. With silence. With indifference. No one else sees the danger in their midst. That is until her friends are affected and the time comes for Laura to remember who she really is.

With the help of a mysterious visitor and Laura’s friend, Harry O’Connor, a plan forms, but when a lack of discretion threatens to derail it, Laura finds help comes from the most unlikely place.

Driven by Deceit is a gripping domestic suspense novel. If you like character-driven action, suspenseful storytelling and unexpected twists, then you’ll love this psychological thriller.

My Review:

I have long enjoyed Georgia Rose’s writing and have followed the A Shade Darker series from book one. So I was thrilled to receive an advance copy of her latest offering. This fifth story of the characters who live in Melton is as riveting as the first four. Gradually we have become familiar with them and in Driven by Deceit we return to one of my favourite characters, Laura, the owner of the riding stables, who we were introduced to in Georgia Rose’s first story, A Killer Strikes.

And what a return: Laura’s life is turned upside down by her nemesis, her former stepmother. And so the plot begins.

 I try not to give spoilers in my reviews so I’ll concentrate in what captivates me about this author’s work.

The characters, particularly the protagonists, are, as always so well rounded that the reader instantly becomes engrossed in their story, immediately cares what happens to them.

And no less so with the supporting characters in the book. In Driven by Deceit we see the struggles of Pip, who works for Laura at the stables, and witness the dilemma that Harry faces, also an employee of Laura’s, but really so much more. And then there’s the antagonist, Cecelia, the erstwhile stepmother. Together with the cast of villages, we are drawn in again: to cheer on, to hate, to frown over, become exasperated by, to laugh with, to weep with.

 As always the dialogue is meticulously distinctive to each villager, the idiosyncrasies and habits identify them, and the exchanges between them all is realistic.

And then there is the setting of Melton: the houses, the pub, the stables, the shop, and the countryside around. All described in such detail that they are images that can be brought instantly to mind. The author uses all five senses to reveal a brilliant sense of place.

 What else can be said, other than yet again, this is a captivating read with an engrossing plot.

One word of warning – well, not really a warning, just a bit of encouragement to any reader who is drawn to books beautifully written, with gripping plots. I would suggest they begin with the first book in the A Shade Darker series, A Killer Strikes. and work their way through to this, the fifth and last book … for now! I promise they will not be disappointed.

So, yes, I highly recommend Driven by Deceit (due to be published in 1st May 2026: https://tinyurl.com/2m5f6umk), as I have done with the four previous books.

My Review of How I Became a Sailor in Three Lessons & Other Stories: 2025 Anthology: by Isle of Arran u3a Writing Group (Isle of Arran u3a Anthology Book 2

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And a mention of their first Anthology:The Wife, the Mistress, and the Guinea Pig & Other Stories

Having been a member of the U3a for some time, I have discovered the value of being able to join in with the many groups and events. I also run a monthly creative writing group.

 So, some time ago, I was thrilled to learn that there is a U3a on Arran; an island I’ve been lucky enough to stay on and which is close to my heart because of the wonderful memories and friends I’ve made there. When I discovered in 2023 that the writers’ group had produced an anthology: The Wife, the Mistress, and the Guinea Pig & Other Stories, I read and wrote a brief review:

“This is the first anthology written by the u3a writers on the Isle of Arran, and is a wonderfully engaging read encompassing short stories and poetry, with the underlying theme of ‘lives lived’, in brilliant descriptive detail. Nostalgic, reminiscent, sometimes humorous – but always enjoyable – this is an easy read, a ‘pick up and dive in!’ collection, with the occasional photograph and charming image. Highly recommended … to any reader who wants to be entertained.”

 And now the group has written and published their second anthology, and it is equally enjoyable.

How I Became a Sailor in Three Lessons & Other Stories: 2025 Anthology: by Isle of Arran u3a Writing Group (Isle of Arran u3a Anthology Book 2

I’ll mention a few of my favourite reads in the book.

One piece of writing made me quietly envious – that of Alaster Milne’s view of life on Arran – which is that time on the isle is “ish;” there is a relaxed attitude to time. As he says: “Time on Arran is relative … it’s the Arran way of life that defines where we live.”

 And there is both humour and an astute observance on human nature from A.V Dunne, both in poetry and prose. I laughed out loud reading one piece on not being “cut out for the twenty-first century” and could empathise with her Rage Against Age.

I loved revisiting Barb’s Do Not Wash Hands in Plates and her dealings with Delhi Belly and toothache. And then there is Lockdown, a bad knee, and a walking cane – even as I sympathised I’m afraid I chuckled. I hasten to add here that it is always the way she writes, Barb has a tremendous capacity of seeing the funny side of life, whatever happens.

 I also enjoyed Helen McIntosh’s and Tom Kelly’s memoir contributions (memoirs are a favourite genre of mine), and the gentle writing of Marshal Ross.

There is an Arran in one hundred words section. Flash fiction is a brilliant writing discipline and all these pieces are fun and interesting to read.

 And the black and white illustrations from photographs and drawings, throughout the anthology, from another U3a group, the photographers, add a lovely flavour to the writing.

 Finally, there is an explanation of the University of the Third Age (U3a), and a description of the Arran U3a was formed in 2019. I was fascinated to learn that there are over a thousand chapters of people who, having retired, are still sharing experiences and expertise.

Where We Walked Craig Varr Kinloch Rannoch Loch Rannoch @Scotland #walks #photography #mountains #lochs

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Craig Varr is a truncated spur; a ridge cut off by the glaciers of the last ice age around ten thousand years ago. The result of the ice erosion is a cliff close to Kinloch Rannoch and a ridge that leads northeast to Beinn a’ Chuallaich (Mountain of the Herding”) .

Craig Varr – the first walk that the Photographer had identified when we knew we were going to Kinloch Rannoch. We perhaps should have taken notice of the warning: ‘Very steep initial ascent on a wide path; then pathless and boggy for a section before a final rough ascent’,

Especially when, on the day we arrived, it snowed!

But the Photographer was keen – very keen – to take some photographs, particularly of the mountain to the south, the triangular profile of Schiehallion. He was convinced that if we could climb only a short way up to Craig Varr, he would get a decent phtograph. As you can see, he did!

We often forget how old we are. And it was with this oblivious attitude that we set off in hiking boots and with poles.

We left mid morning: the snow had disappeared from the roads, the sun shone, the air was quite warm, and from the path overlooking the loch it felt like a lovely Spring day, despite it only being February.

Against the clear sky the loch was impressive through the trees.

The Photographer stopped often to take photos.

The track, though rough, was easy at first. We resolved to walk as far as it proved so.

But soon we encountered more snow and ice

Common sense kicked in – we turned back. The climb would be for another day, preferably a long summer’s day. Or at least a day when there wasn’t any snow.

Back at the lodge we agreed that tomorrow’s walk would be on lower ground – probably around the loch.

N.B. For interest:

Schiehallion: the mountain that weighed the Earth

This superb quartzite mountain was chosen in 1774 as the site of a famous experiment to weigh the Earth; today it is an unrivalled viewpoint.
Six to seven hundred million years ago the area that now forms the Grampian Highlands was a shallow sea. Layer upon layer of sediment was formed from mud eroded from the land, white quartz sands, and limy deposits. As these layers were buried and compressed, they became mudstone, sandstone and limestone. At that time Scotland was at the edge of a continent which included North America, separated by the deep Iapetus Ocean from the rest of Europe. Plate tectonic movements closed this ocean 470 to 430 million years ago, subjecting the buried rocks to great heat and pressure. Mudstone became schist and slate; sandstone became very hard, creamy-white quartzite; all were folded and fractured in complex patterns. At the end of these earth movements the rocks were uplifted to form the Caledonian Mountains.
Perhaps one of the most amazing things about Schiehallion is that this folding and fracturing of the rock layers is so pronounced in the area around the mountain that the mountain itself is almost ‘upside-down’! In other words, the older rock layers can be found at the top of the mountain and the younger layers at the bottom.
Several different rock types can be seen on the main path up Schiehallion,. You may come across a limestone pavement with water-worn fissures and potholes. Locally, these limey soils support unusual plants. The same rock can be seen in quarries and a restored 19th century lime kiln at Tomphubil. . Most of the ridge is grey to white quartzite, with current bedding in a few places and an occasional band of pinkish brown microdiorite. In the Tempar Burn to the northwest is the famous Schiehallion Boulder bed, an ancient glacial tillite.
During the Ice Ages of the last two million years, glaciers flowed east from Rannoch Moor, carving the hard quartzites of Schiehallion into a streamlined ridge and digging deep valleys on either side. The ice has carried blocks of granite and schist, and dropped them all the way along the east ridge, up to a height of about 980m. From there to the summit the path goes over bedrock with only local quartzite boulders.
The experiment of 1774 to weigh the Earth involved measuring the deflection of a plumb line resulting from the gravitational pull of a nearby mountain. Schiehallion was considered the ideal mountain, due to its isolation and almost symmetrical shape. The tiny deflection of a plumb-line from the vertical must be measured relative to the fixed background of the stars, which requires extremely careful measurements on either side of the mountain. The mass of the mountain can be worked out from its volume and the density of its rocks. These values can be used to find the gravitational pull of the Earth, and thus its mass.
Text contributed by Carol Pudsey for https://www.scottishgeologytrust.org/

Where We Walked – Marloes Sands #BoxingDay #Pembrokeshire #Wales #Walks #Photographs #memories

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The last time we were here was last summer, on a warm and sunny day. After parking the car we’d walked down the winding track to the beach. The tide was well out and we’d strolled along the edge of the lapping gentle waves on the long stretch of sand.

This time: Boxing Day 2025, so bitterly cold that initially it took away our breath. But the sun was shining and the sky was a gloriously clear blue. It was good to be outside after days of rain. We sauntered down the track to the grassy path that led to the beach

The tide was in. In the distance we could see Skomer Island which we’d visited inJuly. An adventure I’d written about here and here.

We turned away from the beach and, after only slight hesitation, we crossed a small footbridge over a stream and followed a path to the top of the cliff that we’d not walked on before.

It was a little hair-raising to be honest. But the views were wonderful. After half an hour along an ever rising, and narrowing path we came to a halt at the top of steep and winding steps that obviously led down to the beach. Go on, or go back? We’re not very good at going back on walks, however lost we are, or in this case, however daunting the steps. So we decided – in for a penny and all that…

It took us ten minutes of walking sideways down each step and being very grateful for the walking poles we’d debated on bringing with us – (After all, it’ll only be a beach walk!” I’d said, foolishly).

I don’t know who’d built those steps but they’d obviously decided that anyone who could navigate them thus far would be fit enough to leap over the last two metres of sheer rock at the bottom to reach the beach.

Before I could decide to either slide down the rock on my backside, or roll down through the gorse bushes on either side of the path I heard a cry. ” Bravo! You are legends!” A lady appeared below. “Stay there. I’ll help you down, you legend. Grab my hand.” I was, I have to say, very grateful for the help.

Until, finally on level ground – (levelish – i looked it up, there is such a word, specially invented i guess for rocky beaches) – I looked at this lovely lady – and realised she was probably around our age.

To be clear though, she did tell us she’d arrived at this particular spot at low tide, and had walked along the wide stretch of sand from the other end of the beach – where we’d we’d originally planned to walk from. And also that the steps we’d come down were locally know as the emergency exit steps for when someone was caught out by the high tide. So that was the answer – whoever built the steps knew that anyone wanting to use them would probably be swimming to them – and not by choice; to escape being trapped by the tide.

Luckily for us the tide was on its way out. There was no way I was tackling those steps again to the top of the cliffs. We judged that, if we took our time, we could navigate around and over the rocks to get back to our originally planned starting point at the other end of the beach.

Having navigated rocks near the sea’s edge we made our way to the top of the beach near the cliffs where there was a gap between two tall, jagged rocks. A group of people came through as we were deciding on our next move. If they could do it so could we! Yes, I know … mad!! But we don’t like to be beaten.

We made it to the other side. “No problem,” said the photographer (He was standing on the sand taking this photograph with the path that leads up to the track, and on up to the car park, behind us). I ignored his confident smile; there were a few moments when I’d thought we would be needing a sea rescue.

N.B: Just as a matter of interests, Marloes Sands was the filming location for: Snow White & the Huntsman (September 2011). The Lion in Winter (1968).

And could I, should I, leave this post without a small metion of my books?

As I’m hoping the book I’m working on at the moment, and hope to publish in 2026 (Well, one can always live in hope!), I guess not. So here is the link to my Amazon page.

Thank you to all my readers; I appreciate each and every one of you.

Where We Walked – Elan Valley and the Carvings #memories #walks #photographs #Wales

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On our recent walk around Garreg Ddu Dam in the lower Elan Valley we noticed that, since we were last here, even more carvings had been created along the trail.

This area of land was originally a Victorian Douglas Fir plantation, clear-felled to reintroduce native species and increase biodiversity. The project to carve the trees lining the road was commissioned Dŵr Cymru Welsh Water and created by chainsaw sculptors Simon O’Rourke, Paul Edwards, and Matthew Crabb, who worked from ideas presented by schoolchildren from the community.

More information can be found here

It was getting late in the afternoon, the day had been gloriously sunny and warm, but now dusk was settling in and the gathering clouds in the sky were showing signs of the rain forecast for the following day.

Foel Tower: a point of interest at the start and end of our walk around Garreg-ddu: Just upstream from the submerged dam at Garreg-ddu is the Foel Tower, the starting point for the 70 mile journey of the water supply to Birmingham.


The lower section of Foel Tower has a number of openings inside at different levels where a system of valves and cylinders can be raised and lowered to draw off water from the reservoir at the right depth for the current water level.

Photographs courtesy of http://history.powys.org.uk/history/rhayader/foel.html

The above photograph was taken in 1947 showing the Foel Tower during very low water levels in the Garreg-ddu. Most of the openings in this image are normally underwater.

Foel Tower takes in water from the Claerwen Valley through a pipeline which takes water underground from the dam system. Water is also collected by Pen-y-garreg and Craig Gochhe, the two dams higher up in the Elan Valley.

Links to my books:

Amazon.co.uk: https://tinyurl.com/55r6s5vp

Amazon.com:https://tinyurl.com/53ndmrhe

https://www.honno.co.uk/fiction

My latest book, published in November 2024 is The Stranger

Review for The Stranger:
5.0 out of 5 stars Storytelling in a class of its own… stunning.

“One of the author’s many strengths is in capturing the clear and authentic voice of a confused child – Mandy’s voice, in The Stranger, still haunts me, torn between her own grief, her sense of right and wrong, and her love for her family. And once more, in her latest book she wonderfully portrays the suffering of eight-year-old twins Chloe and Charlie – already grieving the loss of their mother, their lives torn apart by their father’s marriage to her former nurse, an evil manipulator of the highest order…“

Where We Walked – Elan Valley #walks #photographs #memories #books

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After weeks of what seems to have been constant rain, we embarked on a couple of days away, determined to walk, whatever the weather. We headed for Mid Wales.

We were lucky: the clouds parted, the rain stopped, the sun came out. We took a trip to Elan Valley and walked around Garreg Ddu to Pen y Garreg.

We’ve been a few times in the past, the last being in 2023 when there was a drought declared. Below is the road bridge/ wall between Garreg Ddu and Caban Coch. On the left 2023, on the right this time, in November.

Though there were less daylight hours this time to walk we still were able to see some of the differences in the water levels in the reservoirs between our visits in 2023 to this November.

In 2023 the water was so low we could see the outlines of the houses, the roads and the church that were compulsory purchased in 1892 in order to dam the Elan and Claerwen rivers within the Elan Valley and supply water to Birmingham. This was because of the rapid growth of that industrial city, and the numerous outbreaks of disease that prompted Birmingham City Council to petition the British government to pass the Birmingham Corporation Water Act in 1892, allowing the corporation to acquire the land.

Building work began in 1883. There are six impressive dams altogether. Four follow the Elan River – Craig Goch, Pen y Garreg, Garreg Ddu, and Caban Coch and two are on the river Claerwen – the Claerwen dam and the unfinished Dol y Mynach dam.

The History of Elan Valley:

In 1893 one hundred people in Elan Valley had to move to allow the work to begin, but only landowners received compensation payments. Many buildings were demolished: three manor houses, eighteen farms, a school and a church – the latter being replaced by the corporation and renamed Nantgwyllt Church. Over the next three years a railway line was constructed to transport the workers and thousands of tonnes of building material each day.

Thousands of men and their families lived in wooden huts in the the purpose-built Elan Village, where, eventually a library, a public hall, a shop, and a canteen were built. There was also a hospital, used for injuries and as an isolation hospital. There was even street lighting which was powered by hydroelectric generators. New workers were initially expected to spend the first overnight in a lodging house to be deloused and examined for infectious diseases. Only then were they allowed across the river to the village. Single men lived in groups of eight in a terrace house shared with a man and his wife. A guard was employed to check for illegal importation of liquor and unauthorised visitors. There was a bath house which the men could use up to three times a week but the women only once. And the pub was for the men only. A school was provided for those under elevens, after this the children were expected to work.

The dams were built in two phases. The first phase, which cost six million pounds and employed fifty thousand was opened on the twenty-first of July 1904 by King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra. The building of the second phase dams was delayed due to the two World Wars and work only started in 1946. Because of engineering advancements just one large dam was built instead of the three smaller ones originally planned for. This was the Claerwen. This dam was completed in 1952 and opened by Queen Elizabeth II on the twenty-third of October.

Books

A Hundred Tiny Threads #Prequel #familysaga #histfiction #WW1 #reviews #family #relationships #Poetry

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It’s eight years this month since the prequel, A Hundred Tiny Threads, to the Haworth Trilogy was published – so a little celebratory post – with an extra personal memory at the end – for one of my oldest books.

It’s 1911 and Winifred Duffy is a determined young woman eager for new experiences, for a life beyond the grocer’s shop counter ruled over by her domineering mother.

The scars of Bill Howarth’s troubled childhood linger. The only light in his life comes from a chance encounter with Winifred, the girl he determines to make his wife.

Meeting her friend Honora’s silver-tongued brother turns Winifred’s heart upside down. But Honora and Conal disappear, after a suffrage rally turns into a riot, and abandoned Winifred has nowhere to turn but home.

The Great War intervenes, sending Bill abroad to be hardened in a furnace of carnage and loss. When he returns his dream is still of Winifred and the life they might have had… Back in Lancashire, worn down by work and the barbed comments of narrow-minded townsfolk, Winifred faces difficult choices in love and life

A couple of reviews:

“When I emerged at the end of this book – during the reading, my immersion was total – it was with a sense of having experienced it all first hand, and of having deeply felt every moment. This was story-telling at its very best… and a book that will long linger in my memory.”

“I loved it… A page-turner that keeps you hooked. The story line has lots of twists and turns and you feel yourself moved on so many different levels. As the book unfolds it gives you moments of tenderness and love, hatred and spite all blended together with conflict, prejudice, guilt, grief and a desperate longing for change. Judith describes the period so well, with some very graphic, cruel and harrowing episodes, enabling you to empathise with each character in turn. I particularly like the fact that the story held together to the last page.”

Three year earlier, on the exact date – the 17th August – the book was published, I’d written the following…

My Grandad

grandad for sally's blog

My grandfather died seventy years ago this week. Obviously i never knew him and have only one small black and white photograph of him on my study wall. He’s standing in the backyard of the terraced house they lived in in Oldham. Lancashire. This is a poem I wrote about him a long time ago. My mother said he was gassed in WW1 and never recovered. 

My Grandad

I look at the photograph.

He smiles,and silently

he tells me

his story…

In my backyard I stand,

Hands wrapped around a mug of tea.

Shirt sleeves, rolled back,

Reveal tattoos – slack muscles.

I grin.

All teeth.

Who cares that they’re more black

Than white.

Underneath

That’s my life;

That’s the grin I learned

When burned

By poison

Spreading

Like wild garlic.

That’s the grin I wear

When I look

But don’t see

The dark oil glistening,

Blistering, inside me.

When I hear, but don’t listen

To my lungs closing.

I posture,

Braces fastened for the photo,

Chest puffed out.

Nothing touches me –

Now.

Later I cough my guts up –

Chuck up.

I trod on corpses: dead horses,

Blown up in a field

Where grass had yielded

To strong yellow nashers.

And in the pastures

I shat myself.

But smelled no worse

Than my mate, Henry, next to me

Whose head grinned down from the parapet –

 Ten yards away.

He has perfect, white teeth.

Much good they’ve done him,

Except for that last night at home

When the girl smiled back.

Crossing off the Bucket List: Part Two @SkomerIsland #walks #photographs #birds #plantlife #Memories

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At long last! After living in Pembrokeshire for the last forty-six years and despite walking many miles of the Pembrokeshire coast, and meandrering around a lot of the Welsh countryside discovering wonderful places, lakes, waterfalls … scenary, we hadn’t been on Skomer island. This week we finally managed to go. And it was a glorious day’s adventure.

Together with the thirty other people we had been on the boat with, we climbed the steps and slopes from North Haven beach to the Information and Welcome Point, passing the ruins of one of the lime kilns on the island, now used as a shelter.

Following the short introductory talk by one of the National Trust volunteers on the numerous species of birds on the island, and advice on which paths to take, according to what we were most looking forward to seeing, we set off. Surprisingly it soon seemed that we were on our own as we began our walk of the south section of the island.

During the more prosperous farming days of the nineteenth century lime was important on the island, both as mortar for the buildings and to spread on the land as fertilizer. Limestone and coal would have been imported from the mainland, landed on the beach at North Haven and moved to the kilns to be heated.

In search of the second of the lime kiln ruins, which is beyond the Harold Stone we took a diversion.

The Harold Stone has no cutting or tool marks, so seems to be mostly unshaped by man, and apparently smoothed by decades of cattle and other animals rubbing against it. As with many standing stones there are various ideas as to its function: the site of an ancient burial ground, a ritual or lookout area of an Iron Age settlement, (there are a number of Iron Age settlements around the Island, each one slightly different),or a marker for boats to approach North Haven.

We were impressed by the care that is taken by the National Trust volunteers in preserving numerous areas of paths and grassland. At one point we saw an outline of a figure, dark against the bright sunshine, carrying an enormous scythe. As she passed us, she laughed and said she felt like the Grim Reaper. Walking on we saw the area she’d cleared and roped off to allow a patch of ground to recover.

We walked on...

We couldn’t find out what the small ‘monument ‘ is on top of this rock formation.

True to form we didn’t follow our intended circuit and meandered along paths, and retraced our steps in rather a haphazard fashion, (although the Photographer will dispute this and declare our route to be organised according to the circuit he planned). However true his statement was, I must admit we did pass numerous impressive limestone outcrops covered in lichen, and vast expanses of ferns, heather, gorse and wild flowers.

And we did see the majority of Skomer by the end of our time there.

After our short respite at the farmhouse we moved on to Skomer Head. The rocky headland was covered with fading pink Thrift (and evidence of the rabbits). It’s an impressive view from there; we could see Skokholm, which is a sandstone island, and, less clear but still visible, the island of Grassholm. I remembered that. many years ago, we took a trip on the Waverley (the last seagoing paddle steamer) and passed Grassholm. It’s the third largest Gannet colony in the world, and the island is covered in white. I’ll leave that last statement to your imagination!

There are the remains of an Iron Age boundary wall running parallel to more modern boundary walls from Skomer Head. The modern one is close to the path and the remaining stones of the prehistoric one on the nearby rock ridge above.

We crossed Wick Stream; a wetland area with small streams that are apparently connected by six dams. We couldn’t see them, though it was interesting to be told by one of the National Trust volunteers that they could be part of the Iron Age walls but they might also be of later origin. Their purpose is not known ,although it’s most likely that they were for water conservation, creating ponds for storage of water and watering stock. The paths along the way were protected by boardwalks, but mostly were rough and rocky on our way to The Wick.

The Wick was formed by geological fault activity and basaltic lava flows. It’s a magnificent cliff face, rocky on one side, steep slopes opposite, and filled with the sound of the breeze and the waves. We saw Fulmars and Great Black-backed Gulls swooping and riding the air currants. It was quite nerve-wracking to peer over the edge from the safety of the ledge that appeared to be especially placed there for that purpose (I could be wrong, but it was what most people were using it for – but as the area was cordoned off to protect the puffins to cross the space to reach their burrows – otherwise the gulls would predate them – the ledge was useful)

The Photographer! Just to prove he took the photos and that it was really hot, sunny weather.

We were running out of time so began to make our way back to North Haven. The path was steep and even more rocky in places but the views were still imposing.

Reluctant though we were to leave Skomer, we arrived back in good time for our departure slot for Dale Princess to take us back to the mainland with many photographs and great memories.

A short history of Skomer Island:

Around thirty-seven thousand years ago, Skomer would have been part of the mainland, only being cut off, following rising sea level, by the end of the last Ice Age around twelve thousand years ago

There is evidence of untouched remains of huts, fields and cairns that appear to prove that between five and twelve thousand years ago there was an Iron Age settlement of a small farming community on Skomer. Near the Garland Stone, a pyramidal (shaped like a pyramid), just off the northern tip of the island, there is a short circular detour off the main path across a ridge where a group of nine small cairns have been identified. This is probably a prehistoric cemetery. In North Valley, looking towards North Pond when conditions are suitable the remains of a number of circular Iron Age huts in pairs can be seen. This is the most complete and untouched remains of this period in the whole of Europe.

But then, except for some evidence of Medieval buildings on the island there is no clear record of any habitation until around the thirteenth century.

Farm Complex – I researched for a more detailed history of the farmhouse described in Part One, which may be of interest to some:

The farm was lived in by various tenants and owners of the island:

Lord Kensington bought the island in 1897 and used it mainly as part of his sporting estate. A J  Neale, a trawler owner from Cardiff, leased the Island in 1905 with the aim of protecting the wildlife, but had to relinquish the lease later and then it was bought by a Mr Sturt, who stayed on the island with his family. His daughter eventually married a local man Reuben Codd.  The Codd family farmed the Island until the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939. Afterwards the Island became a Field Study Centre for a year until 1946, run by the West Wales Field Society, and visitors stayed in the house. In 1950 the Codds left the Island. Then, in 1954, the roof of the old farmhouse was severely damaged during a major storm – it was left a ruin. The Skomer Island Heritage Project enabled the old farmhouse was reinstated and took in  visitors  again. The old barn, once a two-story barn for storage and animals, is now used for visitor and research accommodation.

Crossing off the Bucket List: Part One @SkomerIsland #walks #photographs #birds #plantlife #Memories

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At long last! After living in Pembrokeshire for the last forty-six years and despite walking many miles of the Pembrokeshire coast, and meandrering around a lot of the Welsh countryside discovering wonderful places, lakes, waterfalls … scenary, we hadn’t been on Skomer island. This week we finally managed to go. And it was a glorious day’s adventure.

Boarding the Dale Princess

Arriving on Skomer …

To be greeted by numerous curious puffins who seemed as interested in us as we were in them….

Skomer is internationally important for seabirds and, of course, there are necessary rules to protect the birds so we were told where and how we could walk the paths. One of the National Trust volunteers told us about the numerous species of birds on the island which included the Puffins – now in their last week before they leave the island – we were so lucky to see them.

The colony of Manx Shearwaters is the largest colony in the world. Unfortunately we found quite a few remains of these on the narrow paths, apparently caught by the Great Black-backed Gulls. Later in the day we came across a crowd of people watching a Manx Shearwater chick which had wandered out of its ground nest. Seeing the amount of Gulls flying overhead, we hoped it managed to shuffle back to safety.

We weren’t lucky enough to see the Storm Petrels that are usually here on the island (they probably were but our binoculars were of slightly less quality than those hired out for five pounds by the National Trust). But we did see Guillemots, Razorbill, Kittiwakes, and so many of the ubiquitous Carrion Crows and Ravens

And at the Bird Hide, we watched Fulmars, Herring, Lesser and Great Black-backed Gulls as well as a pair of Canada Geese around the North Pond. (Well, I think they were Canada Geese, the Photographer said they were … ducks!) Huh!

Two watchful Kittiwakes

And, later in the day we were followed by a pair of these little birds – we think they were trying to lure us away from their nest.

We thought they were Stonechats – or Linnets – but maybe someone more knowledgeble will be able to correct us?

Some of the paths are so narrow they were designated one way paths – we were warned not to stand on the grass alongside in case there there were still Puffin burrows with chicks in them. Others are wider and surrounded by ferns, daisies, wild flowers … a treat to see.

We arrived at the old farmhouse where we stopped for our picnic.

History of the farmhouse:

There are unsubstantiated records of a house built in the centre of the island, thought to be around seventeen hundred on which are the ruins of the old farmhouse, itself dated from about 1840. This was once an impressive and substantial house, built in the traditional Pembrokeshire style with small slates fixed in mortar, protecting the front of the house. Early pictures show a metal veranda running the length of the house, and at the back of the building, an old smoking oven where fish and meats would have been preserved.
The slightly thicker soils in this part of the island and access to water in North Valley enabled a range of crops to be grown. There are records of the farm supporting three families at one time with cows and sheep grazing on the land as well as horses to help with the heavy work. Farming was largely abandoned after the outbreak of the First World War and all agriculture on the island finally ended in 1950.

And onwards to today:

In 1959 the Island was bought by the Nature Conservancy (the Government department that became the Countryside Council for Wales) helped by the West Wales Field Society (the charity that became the Wildlife Trust of South and West Wales). It was declared one of the country’s first National Nature Reserves and is now owned by National Trust and managed by the Wildlife Trust of South and West Wales.

In the next part of our visit to Skomer we move on from the farmhouse to the magnificent coastline and impressive views.

The Winter of Discontent: The Background to Part Two of The Stranger in my House. #CreativeControl #Families

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Part Two of The Stranger in my House is set against what is now called the Winter of Discontent – A term that comes from Shakespeare’s play Richard III, but it was used in an interview by the then Prime Minister James Callaghan and was taken up by the media. It lasted between November 1978 to February 1979 in the United Kingdom and, following opposition from the Trades Union Congress (TUC), took on the form of widespread strikes by both the private and public sector. Trade unions demandied pay rises greater than the limits Prime Minister, James Callaghan, and his Labour Party government imposed in an effort to control inflation.

It was also the coldest winter in sixteen years. Heavy snowfall and freezing temperatures disrupted transport, businesses, and energy supplies.

In January 1979 (between the 1st and the 14th), some 20,000 railwaymen held four one-day strikes. There were strikes by haulage drivers, petrol tank drivers, and eventually municipal workers – 1,250,000 of them organised a one-day national strike on 22 January 1979.

The most notorious incident was the grave diggers’ strike on Merseyside, which hit the headlines with the press vilifying trade unions for their lack of sympathy with the bereaved, and, it was argued, with the needs of the nation.

But it was a strike by refuse collectors that came to symbolise the complete breakdown of UK public services. Local councils rapidly ran out of storage space as the binmen continued to strike, so rubbish was left in streets and open public spaces instead.

Photograph courtesy of The Guardian
Photo by Evening Standard/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

A gripping ‘cuckoo in the nest’ domestic thriller

After the death of their mum, twins Chloe and Charlie are shocked when their dad introduces Lynne as their ‘new mummy’. Lynne, a district nurse, is trusted in the community, but the twins can see her kind smile doesn’t meet her eyes. In the months that follow they suffer the torment Lynne brings to their house as she stops at nothing in her need to be in control.

Betrayed, separated and alone, the twins struggle to build new lives as adults, but will they find happiness or repeat past mistakes? Will they discover Lynne’s secret plans for their father? Will they find each other in time?

The Stranger in My House is a gripping ‘cuckoo in the nest’ domestic thriller, exploring how coercive control can tear a family apart. Set in Yorkshire and Cardiff, from the 60s to the winter of discontent, The Stranger in My House dramatises both the cruelty and the love families hide behind closed doors.

“Judith Barrow’s greatest strength is her understanding of her characters and the times in which they live.” Terry Tyler

Grateful for this reader’s review. One of the first for The Stranger in my House, when it was published in November 2024.

Received the book today and finished it in the one sitting!

Judith Barrow’s done it again! The Stranger in My House is a book that showcases her renowned credentials. The characters are superbly drawn, the tension grows steadily and with each turn of the page your heart is gripped by the dilemmas facing the young protagonists, twins Charlie and Chloe, and their well-intentioned father. As with The Memory (shortlisted for Wales Book of the Year) it’s the way Barrow takes the ordinary and everyday, that we recognise and identify with, and skilfully uses her eye for human behaviour to turn it into something that becomes a nightmare we can readily believe in.
The story begins in 1967 and over the following decade the sense of time and place is expertly done without being intrusive. At the core of the tale is coercion and the reader can see how cleverly the others are being manipulated by the woman who undermines them and shatters their family bonds. My dislike for Lynne and her son Saul built with the book’s momentum. There was that fear that they would get away with unimaginable cruelty and malice. To counter that, were those whose innate love and kindness provided a heartwarming buffer.
From the start, I was gripped and that grip tightened inexorably. It’s becoming a cliché to say that you couldn’t put a book down – but I couldn’t. I had to know what was going to happen next. It mattered. That is the hallmark of a great author.

So You Want to Organise a Book Fair? #Books #Writers

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PART TWO

So, to the practicalities …

You’ll definitely need a constitution for the official book fair bank account and if you’ll be looking for grants, sponsorship etc.

Get started early; you’ll need plenty of planning time. Work out the best time of year for your area by looking around, seeing what else is on at certain times. Is there any event happening on the date you’d like that might help or hinder footfall to your book fair? Is there a festival you could link up with? Or a similar event to yours which would take away your potential public? If the latter, don’t be inflexible, change your date.

Book your venue. You want somewhere that people will pass and enter easily. (Check for disability access and facilities). And check that there is somewhere outside of the building that you can hang a banner advertising the book fair on the day – or, at the least, somewhere that you can stand A boards outside without causing any obstruction

Thorne Moore and I on the morning of our last book fair and hoping this banner will attract enough attention for our last book fair at the. It did – well, alongside the rest of the publicity we’d put out there over the previous few months, it did.

If you intend to ask your authors to give talks, hold creative writing workshops, hold panels on various aspects of writing or genres, or invite publishers to put on an appearance for talks or editor sessions (always a good move and the authors will thank you!), make sure there are enough rooms. Most importantly, make sure the actual room/hall you’ll be holding the book fair in is large enough. You’ll need a fairly spacious area because you’ll be inviting lots of authors to participate… won’t you!?

Also check for the number of tables and chairs the venue has. And make sure you can get your hands on more tables if necessary. You don’t want to have more authors than tables

Find out if the venue has public liability insurance. If not you have two choices, stump up for it yourself (in which case you could be paying out a fortune) or ask the individual authors to take out their own – much the better option and a lot of writers have their own insurance anyway.

Lists, lists and more lists! Try to include as much detail as possible and when things need to be started or completed by. You won’t always hit the targets but you’ll know when they go whizzing by (a bit like that deadline you’ve set for yourself with your WIP). Know which of you is responsible for each task. But don’t forget to ask for or offer help from one another… you are a team working to one goal.

And that’s it! This is what worked for us. And, for anyone brave enough to organise a book fair – good luck.

Oh, and don’t forget – you’re entitled to a little of the publicity for yourself.

Judith Barrow Thorne Moore

On Being an Interviewer and Wanting to Organise a Book Fair?

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Many years ago I was asked by a local online television company, Showboat TV to interview for a programme called BookSmart. In slight trepidation I agreed; I had no experience in interviewing anyone. But as an author and a creative writing tutor they obviously thought I would be able to talk to other writers about their books and the way they wrote.

I remember I had just the first two books of the Haworth trilogy published then …

Pattern of Shadows

And the sequel: Changing Patterns

But ShowBoat TV had faith in me, and it’s been interesting – and fun. I’ve met many people, authors who live in Wales and authors from all over the world. At first it was filmed and shown through the internet; these days, when I interview, we work through Zoom. Which is what I did when interviewing Debbie Campbell last year, and lately Suzi Quatro. Need I say these were the highlights of my volunteering – and Showboat TV are promising more of this ilk for their viewers.

Viewers, whose numbers, may I say, have risen steadily over the years,because the company provides such a variety of programs. Besides BookSmart, there are interviews with musicians and performances of dramas produced by small companies. All accessible from the homepage, which contains all of the seven free series, with one episode following one each day.

But not only does the company cover all this, but they also travel around filming events, and, in the past, they filmed and were sponsors for the September annual book fairs that I helped to organise, initially with friends and fellow authors, Thorne Moore and Alex Martin – then in later years, when Alex moved away, just with Thorne.

It was hard work – and it began in the January of each year.

When embarking on this, the first thing you do is start with the obvious; find someone like-minded to help you with the organising of the whole affair. More importantly, someone who you know well enough to recognise you’ll be able to work together without egos getting in the way. (And, yes, I’m speaking from experience; enough said!) And someone with a sense of humour. Believe me, if you’re determined to hold a book fair, you’ll need one.

So, to the practicalities – but maybe that’s better left for next time…

Where We Walked Garbad Loch #Arran #Scotland #walks #photography

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We parked opposite the Eas Mòr Ecology centre, and crossed the road to pass the Forest at the Falls cafe. “We can call in for a drink and a bite to eat afterwards,” the Photographer says when I look longingly at the table where a couple are enjoying a coffee. The aroma is tempting but Dusk and I follow him up the short, steep path ….

We duck under the trunks of a couple of trees that have fallen across the path. One has a plaque nailed to it – “Bow your heads for you enter sacred and magical lands”. As we were to discover when we finally reached Loch Garbad. But first to the Eas Mór falls.

Photo cortesy of https://tinyurl.com/msk5skns

Today the falls are not as magical as the photographs from the travel website promised when we discovered this walk. It’s a little disappointing but it’s because the weather has been so dry. Only a small slender stream of water runs, mostly obsured by the surrounding shrubs and grasses from where we stand. (hence the above borrowed photograph). It’s certainly not as impressive as the Glenashdale Waterfall from our first walk on Arran, but it does fall over the cliff in a single dramatic drop into a deep dark gorge.

At a stone seat there’s a path junction with a signpost for Loch Garbad. From the description on the map we are following we expected to be walking though woodland but no; all the forest towards the loch has been felled under the Eas Mor project. This is the gradual conversion of the commercial conifer plantations back to semi-natural trees, so many of these have already been planted as saplings. (I’ve included the Facebook link above, because I think it is so impressive what they are doing in so many areas).This is a vast open area of brash (the above ground parts of the tree that hasn’t been removed from the site after felling – the foliage, branches and crown). Not yet as attractive as it will be, but it has opened up a terrific view across to Pladda Island to Ailsa Craig….

We stop for a while to admire and take photographs. Then carry on along the track …

It’s a bit of a slog. We meet only one other couple with a dog. Dusk and it exchange pleasantries, as do we, and then we plod on. (Yes, that is a sly photo of Dusk and me, taken by the Photographer!) The track is rough and narrow in places. I wonder how it must have felt in past times, winding through the overgrown woods, and I appreciate the openness, being able to see that last hill before we get to Loch Garbad.

Not far now.

We’re told to ‘pose’ – As you may be able to see, neither Dusk nor I appreciate this.

We’re both much happier sitting down for a welcome drink of water and taking in the remote beauty of the loch, whilst the Photographer goes off to do his own thing.

An hour later and we’re off again, somehow managing to take a wrong turn and having to retrace our steps to get onto the right path down the hill. Eventually taking the steps past the waterfall again and towards …

The Library in the Woods – which is exactly what it says – housed in a small log cabin it’s a hidden library in beautiful woodland, and filled with books and messages left by visitors over the years. Another project created by Eas Mor Ecology and built in 1998 from trees felled in a storm on Boxing Day.

Time to leave. We take a narrow path downwards through woods and across the bridge over the stream fed by the waterfall. Just in time … to see the cafe closing. “Never mind,” says the Photographer, ” We’ll be back at the house in no time. We can have a coffee there. What’s for tea?”

https://tinyurl.com/4y3ftdnw