Blog Archives: Travel by Rail

Cooling towers, canals, caves and a cathedral: the Trent Valley, east to west

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

Our monthly short breaks often have their genesis from a single place or sight or activity we want to experience, padded out into a two- or three-night stay with other things we think might be of interest in the vicinity, or at least easily accessible by public transport. November’s trip was no exception: for this, we need simply look back to the televised rail journeys of Michael Portillo. Love him or hate him as a politician, it cannot be denied that he opens the eyes of many to the abundant delight of rail.

A few months ago he alighted at East Midlands Parkway. A station in the middle of nowhere – except for that fact that the platform is almost within touching distance of the iconic cooling towers at Ratcliffe-on-Soar power station….

For this one we were hoping for fine sunny weather, and as we left St Pancras, it seemed we were in luck. But by the time we reached Nottinghamshire, the anticyclonic gloom of the past few weeks had closed in again. We shouldn’t have worried: against blue skies or grey, so close up those iconic megastructures cannot fail to inspire awe.

And yes for a few precious moments, the towers lit up as a few shafts of sunlight broke through …

To hear that these cathedrals to power generation are due to be demolished, we knew we just had to visit. And just in time perhaps, as the power station ceased generating at the end of September this year, the very last coal-burning power station still operating in this country.

Of course, it is wonderful to know that such power stations are no longer polluting our world. But do their most obvious manifestation, the cooling towers with their almost sensually curved shape, need to be wiped from the face of the Earth? Surely there is still space for these iconic buildings, if nothing else as a memorial, Lest We Forget the damage inflicted to our planet and its future over the past three or four generations, and the damage inflicted upon human communities by heartless political dogma without effective transitional help towards low-carbon economies.

Every step we took, we were overlooked by the eight brooding, tamed beauties, even down by the River Soar at Redhill Marina, just about the only place within walking distance to find an afternoon cuppa.

A few hundred metres short of its discharge into the Trent, the river here is canalized, with locks, towpaths and barges, the stiller waters rampantly colonized by invasive Floating Pennywort.

In common with seemingly everywhere this year, the valley grasslands abounded in fungi, including fresh cowpats with the orange discs of Cheilymenia stercorea.

There just past the lock was the red hill after which it is named, quite a surprise in the flat valley. And the rocks really are very red, a type of friable mudstone with numerous ramifying seams of fibrous gypsum, up to several centimetres thick.

It could be the gypsum that is imparting a calcareous influence to the soil, with seepages encrusted in tufa, and the slopes festooned in Old Man’s Beard.

Then, after a happy three hours in the middle of nowhere, it was back onto the train and onwards to Nottingham.  What a revelation! As the light stated to fade we were back among canals and warehouses …

… including the welcome Canalhouse Bar, in a former canal museum and still with a narrowboat on show inside the bar.

The Premier Inn, also by the canal in the Island Quarter, was conveniently situated just along from Binks Yard restaurant, which provided us what has to be the very best meal of the many we have tasted on our monthly travels this year. For me it was free-range local pork chop with sautéed potatoes, seared hispi cabbage and a delicious honey mustard dressing, while Jude went for the rainbow salad with all sorts of magical ingredients, topped with fried halloumi strips. We finished off with the richest possible salted chocolate tart, with blood orange sorbet, though pleased we ordered just one with two spoons! And very reasonably priced even with a splendid bottle of Tempranillo… I don’t usually put such foody detail in these blogs, but that really was one of the best of the best, one to be savoured vicariously over years to come.

Next morning, the grey had given way to blue as we headed back along the canal, the sunlight showing the distinctive red bricks to advantage, and contributing to some lovely reflectascapes …

… which were rendered even more exotic by the extravagance of displaying Mandarins.

But there is another side to the city, perched on the red sandstone hills: castle, cathedral, churches, municipal and other monumental buildings looking down over the canal.

Then built into the cliff is the art gallery, Nottingham Contemporary, continuing a centuries-old practice of expanding the city underground into hundreds of caves hewn out of the soft rock.

Used for storage, shelter and industry, we visited the ‘City of Caves’. Perhaps the tours under the castle would have been better organised, albeit no doubt more expensive, but we were left a little disappointed, especially when the wifi signal dropped out and we were left without commentary half way through …

Still we got the drift, and emerged blinking into the bright sunlight into a pop-up garden, full of dahlias, and even in very unprepossessing concrete surroundings, teeming with insect life!

And all that was left to do was head to Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem, built into the Castle mound, for a good lunch within the beating heart of the underground city.

Next stop further up the Trent valley was Lichfield. Again we had few preconceptions about the place, but very soon realised it is all about the Cathedral, the three spires from every angle looming large over the city and its other historic attractions.

It soon got dark, and even though it wasn’t illuminated, the cathedral made its presence felt, like something from the brushes of Atkinson Grimshaw, the master of nocturnal painting,

Overnight rain came as a bit of a surprise, but by breakfast the sun was out and the skies cobalt blue. First stop of course was the cathedral: up close its many statues, figurines and external decoration lend it an intricate Gothic scariness, the sort of thing we have felt previously in cathedrals such as Cologne.

And no doubt it was not so long ago even more forbidding, before most of the stones were cleaned of the grime of the centuries to reveal the natural red sandstone, which now with lower aerial pollution levels is allowing colonization by mosses, lichens and ferns.

And so inside. The space feels vast, and it comes with all the requisite pillars, ornamentation, stained glass and wall paintings, but both of us felt it lacked a certain indefinable something. We couldn’t fault the warmth of the welcome, but the fabric of the building simply didn’t have it for us.

Out again into the sun, time to stroll around Stowe Pool for lovely reflections, visit Dr Johnson’s house, walk past Erasmus Darwin’s house, and settle down in the Angel pub for a fine local ale. And before we knew it, back to the station and home. But only three weeks until our next trip!

A half-term short break in London

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

During school holidays, we always like to take our granddaughter Eleanor, aged 6, away for at least one night, to start to show her the world. This week it was to London: always busy, but buzzing and vibrant. And despite the half-term crowds, the only time we were queueing was right at the start, to get on to the cable-car across the Thames. But in fact the wait of nearly an hour was quite fortuitous: we started queuing in heavy cloud and light rain …

… but once aloft the sun came out …

… and by touchdown it was clear blue skies! At least for a few minutes, until the grey gloom settled in once again.

After lunch, it was back under the river to Canary Wharf, the glass cathedrals to business now softened with the newly created and very attractive Eden Dock garden.

Time then before it got dark for the playpark in Greenwich Park before we headed to the Greenwich Premier Inn for a very comfortable night. After breakfast next morning we took the opportunity for a walk around the back of the hotel and a view over Deptford Creek, one of those tidal tendrils of the Thames, once so important for trade and commerce. It may be hemmed in by development, but it must look quite impressive at high water. And there were Mallards and a Grey Wagtail to brighten up the dull day, as well as a team of Large White caterpillars demolishing a cabbage!

The Horniman Museum and Garden was out destination for the second day.

Situated in Forest Hill, it really is on a hill, and we were very pleasantly surprised at the views of London from the top of the garden, snapshots of familiar places between the trees.

What attracted us there was the butterfly house, thinking Eleanor would find that exciting. As of course did we: a great place for taking photographs (once the lenses stopped steaming up) of unfamiliar butterflies and caterpillars, along with tropical flowers and even a Cottony Cushion Scale-insect.

Although the end of October, it was still mild outside so there were insects there as well in the lovely gardens, with ecological plantings, interesting flowers and autumn colours:

Yes, Eleanor did enjoy the butterfly house, although as much for flowers and foliage as for the butterflies as her photos show:

But what really seemed to inspire her efforts with Granny’s phone camera was the garden. We do rather forget that those of smaller stature see the world very differently to us, framed by fences and barriers that we quite literally overlook.

She was clearly taken by some of the more showy flowers …

… but also the colours, patterns and textures of the leaves around her. It is a privilege to share some more of her photos – the world as seen through the eyes of a child!

And then all that was left was a visit to the playpark across the road (‘fun’ is always needed, as well as ‘interesting’), serenaded by squawking hordes of Rose-ringed Parakeets, and home after a lovely couple of days.

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 3 – to the seaside at Hastings, St Leonards & Bexhill

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

And so on our second afternoon we headed down from Tunbridge Wells to the coast of East Sussex, taking in Bexhill, St Leonards and Hastings, all conveniently linked by regular and always prompt trains.

We stayed in Bexhill, simply because of a gig we wanted to see at the iconic De La Warr Pavilion – Oysterband and June Tabor, on their final ever tour. Yes, that was very good, as was an Italian meal at Trattoria Italiana preceded by a restorative walk in the dark along the prom listening to waves on shingle, but otherwise we couldn’t find much to recommend it…

In fact most interesting spot apart from the Pavilion was the railway station, both as a way out to pastures new and in sunshine at least providing lots of opportunity for interesting photos of receding vistas:

A couple of times we had chance to wander around St Leonards where the feel was very different, careworn maybe, but not tired, and seemingly with more pride in itself. And the Dandelion Deli provided an excellent breakfast!

Our second visit was as the weather was starting to break on our final day, but ‘bracing’ is a positive attribute for any seaside town, and the waves and sea-foam were quite spectacular.

We have been to Hastings before, a couple of years ago: we enjoyed it then, and with a sunny day in the forecast it seemed a good place to spend our full day on the coast. Not just for the food of course – outstanding fish and chips at Maggie’s, on the beach among the iconic sail-lofts, – but that helped!

We started the day walking the sea-front of ‘new’ Hastings, down to its pier. ‘English Seaside Architecture’ on one side, the large shingle beach, complete with beach-huts, and expansive views of the Channel. Sadly, between the two, a busy road: whoever though it a good idea to sever a town from its main asset?

The waves were lapping up the shore, enough to fill the air with shingle gently clashing followed by the gurgle of each wave sinking into the beach. Sea Kale was growing along the very upper beach where waves so rarely reach, along with Red Valerian, and patches especially on the prom of Water Bent, a newly arrived grass on our shores, spreading rapidly but not it seems displacing anything much – it helps green the arid cracks where nothing else lives.

Around the town, there was plenty of art to be found, both in the form of official installations but also ‘found’ art created by the transient interplay of sunlight with concrete…

Out then to Old Hastings …

… where the split-level street provide a wonderful habitat for attractive wall plants, from Polypody and Mexican Fleabane to Shaggy Soldier and Trailing Bellflower.

Under the gaze of the cliffs and castle, all the trappings of a seaside destination were there, very attractive until you lower the line of vision to car-park level….

Thankfully at the eastern end, Rock-a-Nore cliffs are still unspoilt and majestic, home to Peregrines above, Rock Pipits among the collapsed boulders, and sweeping views, along to Dungeness nuclear power station, some 40km distant but reaching up defiantly from below the horizon. The Earth really is spherical!

The sandstone cliffs were a picturesque mix of strata, faces and colonising vegetation …

… with plants including Tree Mallow and Rock Samphire, but worryingly large amounts of the aggressively invasive space-filler Hottentot-fig. Once our winters were too reliably frosty for it to survive without protection, but no longer it seems.

And then all that was left was to wander back along the shingle beach among the fishing paraphernalia, the iconic sail lofts and of course, Maggie’s fish and chips! A great finale.

Well, not quite the last act of our break. On our way home by train, we had decided to stop off for a few hours in Battle. Clearly a famous historic site, but the weather by then was such that we thought spending money to wander round a field in the wind and rain not especially enticing. So we took refuge in two lovely pubs (the Chequers Inn and the King’s Head) and listened to the incessant roar of busy traffic on the A2100. Another part of the south-east where car is clearly king: there are not even any pedestrian crossings to easily explore the other side of the street: heaven forbid that a motorist should be inconvenienced by a mere pedestrian. But, as we demonstrated, a visit by public transport, helping support local hostelries, is perfectly possible!

 

For other blogs in this series see:

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 1 – Tunbridge Wells | Chris Gibson Wildlife

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 2 – Eridge Rocks | Chris Gibson Wildlife

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 2 – Eridge Rocks

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

After a very comfortable night (and outstanding breakfast) in the Royal Wells Hotel, we headed out again under blue skies by bus across the border into East Sussex to the village of Eridge. The bus stop was outside the local church, and as the churchwarden was just opening up it would have been rude not to have had a look around…

A bit Arts & Crafty on the outside, the inside was delightfully simple, with some glorious modern stained glass, very reminiscent of the Chagall windows at Tudeley we had seen a few years previously…not surprising perhaps as that is only some 20km away.

Plenty to see in the churchyard too, from lichens on the gravestones to waxcap fungi studding the springy turf, and Red Admirals nectaring on the flowering Ivy in the hedges.

But our real reason for being here was the Sussex Wildlife Trust nature reserve just down the road, Eridge Rocks. This was Jude’s first and my second time here – and my visit six months ago was in very different circumstances, both wet and windy. Heading down the lane there is little sign of the wonderland therein…

But as soon as you enter, the world is transformed. Rocks and cliffs, caves, cracks and crevices, enfolded by trees and dripping in mosses, liverworts and ferns as befits this south-eastern outlier of the Atlantic rain-forest.

It is the province of goblins and wood-sprites, the petrified heads of lizards and giants, entwined with garlands of Ivy and Bracken. It may be the same Wealden sandstone rock formation as we saw yesterday at Tunbridge Wells Common, but here it is imbued with the spirit of bountiful, even pagan, Nature.

In places the rock faces are etched with the signs of millennia of the gritty wind erosion characteristic of deserts (as we have seen previously in Menorca and West Bay in Dorset), each face a unique honeycomb of geological history.

Elsewhere, the trees have melded with the rocks, moulded into such contortions it is difficult to see where wood ends and stone begins.

The older trees are Yews, perhaps the longest-lived of all our trees, harking back to an age before there were any churchyards for them to be trapped within. And the tips of many a shoot were swollen into the almost mini-artichoke form of the gall caused by the the midge Taxomyia taxi. Although the national distribution of this gall is very sparse and patchy, we do seem to find it in many places, including this nature reserve and Eridge churchyard.

And there is the life to be found on the rocks, carpets of moss and lichen. sprouting ferns from each crevasse. Some deep overhands had the green baize ceiling carpet of Killarney Fern gametophyte and, just where I found it in March, the Tunbridge Filmy-fern, denizen of the lowest light-levels imaginable.

 

And yes there were a few insects and fungi …

… but really centre-stage were the bones of the land, a journey back into the depths of pre-history, almost enough to mask the distant but incessant roar of the A26….

For other blogs in this series see

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 1 – Tunbridge Wells | Chris Gibson Wildlife

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 3 – to the seaside at Hastings, St Leonards & Bexhill | Chris Gibson Wildlife

 

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 1 – Tunbridge Wells

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

It may have been the height of autumn, but the weather for our October short break in Kent and Sussex had other ideas: for three of the four days, blue skies, light winds and warm sunshine kept the memory of summer very much alive. We started at Tunbridge Wells, Royal Tunbridge Wells no less, with appropriately Regency architectural styling all held together by the distinctive and appealing red brick and tiled pavements…

From residential terraces to the historical heart at the Pantiles, the concentration of impressive buildings was remarkable, centred on the original chalybeate (iron-rich) mineral well-spring. Full of shops selling high-end coffees and diamonds, it was admirably traffic-free, at least to the eyes. But to the ears – an ever-present rumble, rising to a crescendo every so often as if to prevent one from becoming habituated.

In the other half of the town, nearer to the railway station, there were again some remarkable buildings, many repurposed for commercial use, such as the Opera House (now a Wetherspoons), others in civic use, like the museum – all you ever wanted to know about Subbuteo, the football game, which originated here. And real shops selling real things, not just aspirations and fripperies…

In any town, open spaces are of course a refuge, and those we visited all gave us that, from the bustle and the traffic. In The Grove the parkland trees held lots of birds including roving multi-species tit flocks, plus several Chiffchaffs, and one of the trees had a fine, if worrying, sprouting of Ganoderma fungal brackets.

Calverley Grounds was much larger, with more formal gardens, but plenty of space to breathe…

But it was Tunbridge Wells Common that impressed us the most. Running uphill from the edge of the busiest road, the value of trees in suppressing sound and enhancing the air was immediate. Robins were singing. Nuthatches and woodpeckers calling in the still air, as Speckled Woods made most of the sun-flecks.

Trees and scrub gave way higher up to grass and heath, even a little bit of Heather, and then Wellington Rocks, an outcrop of the local sandstone worn by eons of water and wind, (and centuries of childrens’ exploration) into white sand, the home of ground-nesting Bee-wolves and Ivy (or perhaps Heather) Bees.

 

The rocks have such a pleasing profile they kept us happy with our cameras for most of the afternoon, the sun moving round and shadows progressively revealing more and more detail in the faces of the rocks.

 

Cracks and crevices, sometimes enlarged into chasms provided shelter for plant life…

… the north-facing walls with ferns and liverworts, the southerly with lichens and orange Trentepohlia algae.

And then right at the top of the Common was our splendid, and well-priced hotel, the Royal Wells, complete with views over the town. After an indifferent start, the town for us was saved by this hotel and the Common, such that we will actively seek to return to continue our explorations of the Wealden landscapes.

For other blogs in this series see

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 2 – Eridge Rocks | Chris Gibson Wildlife

An autumn break in Kent and Sussex: part 3 – to the seaside at Hastings, St Leonards & Bexhill | Chris Gibson Wildlife

 

 

#WildEssex Walks in Progress: Station-to-station through the heart of Colchester

Britain's Wildlife, Bug & Botany Walks, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

The third of our recent trips to investigate potential new nature walks was much closer to home, starting just one stop down the railway line at Hythe, and walking the route of the River Colne up to Colchester main station three weeks ago.

Particularly the earlier part of the walk we knew well in the past, both having worked in Harbour House at the Hythe, but that finished 15 years ago. It always was a pleasant walk, but would the same be true now, especially given the litter-strewn route the last time we ventured there maybe five years ago?

The Colne is in two sections, tidal in the lower reaches, but above the sluice at East Mill, non-tidal and sluggish. At times of low flow, little water spills over the sluice so the section below is not only tidal but salty, as evidenced by Sea Aster and other saltmarsh plants growing along the muddy margins.

The first section of the walk was across the Moors (historic moorings, not uplands swathes of Heather!). And what a change there has been, with spontaneous woodland now springing up on this brownfield site, areas of which were a disposal site for Paxman’s factory spoil. No room now for the Wasp Spiders we knew so well, and the former swathes of interesting plants like Tree Lupin and Wormwood are much reduced, but the riverside scrub held at least three singing Cetti’s Warblers, almost unthinkable when we first knew it.

Flowering Ivy bushes sporadically along the path, as always, were a magnet for late-season insect activity, including Ivy Bees, Honeybees, bumblebees, Commas and many more.

The only areas remaining unwooded are the flood-prone sections now clothed in beds of Russian Comfrey and Stinging Nettles, botanically poor but supporting lots of insects, here  Parent Bugs and a Dock Bug, and lots of spiders.

Nettle and Comfrey both love high nitrogen conditions, probably derived from flood overspill. Colchester sewage works forms one of the main tributaries of the Colne: it may be downriver but on a flood tide its effluent will be pushed upstream. And probably again and again as it takes several tides for water entrained in the upper tidal reaches to finally exit to open sea.

Another feature of the water was the slick of lurid green Least Duckweed. The source of the duckweed was obvious when on the bridge over the sluice next to East Mill … the still river upstream was chockfull after a few days without rain. There was only the merest dribble of water passing over, the duckweed discs jostling like coins in the penny-falls of an amusement arcade on Clacton Pier. But after heavy rain, the downflow of duckweed will be greater, and indeed the sluice may be lowered periodically to clear the river, as we have suspected when the green slick passes our flat.

Along the tranquil upstream stretches, Alder trees and various willows form stands along the banks, the Alder leaves bearing the tell-tale holes of the recently arrived Alder Leaf-beetle and an array of mite-induced galls. in these spots, several Grey Wagtails were feeding, and a Kingfisher sped past in a moment of brilliance.

Moving upstream away from the sluice, the water became clearer of duckweed, and revealed a number of other water plants such as Arrowhead. In such spots in the sun, Migrant Hawkers and Common Darters were feeding and breeding while Willow Emerald damselflies flittered among the  branches, and a Forest Bug teetered on the brink of disaster wandering around the leaves overhanging  the water.

At lower Castle Park, it was time for a diversion away from the river. No time to examine the impressive array of ornamental trees, but we had to stop and enjoy a Rose Chafer that flew in from nowhere and landed right in front of us. Colchester is a national hot-spot for this magnificent beast, bur the mid-September date seemed rather late.

Running between Upper and Lower Castle parks is a superb section of the Roman city wall, constructed substantially of septaria nodules front the London Clay exposures around Harwich.

ThIs is the site of one of my career failures. Thirty or so years ago, the wall was visited by an eminent lichenologist who rated the diversity of wall lichens he found one of the highest in Eastern England. And then another expert, this time on an even less celebrated group,  lichenicolous fungi, came along and found several species new to Britain and some new to science. I pushed for the wall to be given SSSI status; English Nature’s council had other ideas. Too obscure an interest, and not wanting to get into a fight with English Heritage on whose call Colchester Borough Council was proposing clearing, cleaning all vegetation from the wall.

My intervention may have done some limited good, but walking along the north-facing wall this week it seemed rather less special for wildlife than it was previously. Having said that, still some specialist wall plants, including Pellitory-of-the-wall, Red Valerian (with its distinctive bug gall), Oxford Ragwort, Yellow Corydalis and even some local scarcities such as Wispy Willowherb, Fern Grass and Black Spleenwort.

Also on the wall were mating orgies of picture-winged cranefly Tipula confusa, for which the Essex Field Club map shows only a couple of sites in north-east Essex (Earls Colne and Walton). However maps are not always complete, and indeed a niggling memory was tracked down to a photo of one we found in Bures. And then one in the ferry port of the Isle of Coll – it would seem not to have been recorded on that island before. Always something to find, and learn, and share… a salutary lesson always to send in interesting records!

Back to the river, we continued across Middleborough and right then round to Cowdray Avenue, with a happy short detour for an excellent lunch in the Marquis pub.

So, another interesting walk for us to offer in due course. Interesting also to see parts of Colchester previously unknown to us, despite having lived and worked there. And it was also very pleasing to note the lack of litter along the route, a tribute to the efforts of Colchester City Council or volunteers or whoever does the selfless, and all-too-often thankless, task.

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Three weeks later we returned to do this as a walk with eight happy walkers, enjoying the return of blue skies and sunlight, although unfortunately the litter-free nature of our past walk wasn’t repeated. However, given that we had at least three Litter Faeries with us, our group certainly made a positive difference. Thank you for all your efforts!

There were changes over the three weeks, mostly reflecting the onset of autumn. There were fewer insects, with just a few Red Admirals and a Dock Bug, along with bumblebees feasting on the final Comfrey, Bristly Ox-tongue and Ivy flowers. But we did find a couple of (sadly) squashed Rose Chafers, further extending their flight period which even in September seemed longer than any we had experienced before.

Festoons of Traveller’s-joy were more Old Man’s Beardy while those of Virginia Creeper on the Moors had assumed the ‘traditional colors of a US fall’; in Castle Park, our trees were making their own subtle colour-shifts. Perhaps the fact that last night we almost had a frost will produce one of our periodically spectacular autumn fire-shows, which would resonate well with the second major aurora event reported around Colchester last night (not by us!)

The non-tidal section of the Colne above East Mill also looked very different, lacking the thick carpets of Least Duckweed. Occasional rather heavy rainstorms have clearly pushed the mats of duckweed discs over the precipice of the sluice into the salty tide, and so to oblivion. There was a family of Dabchicks on the upper sections, birds that will voluntarily head downstream shortly as the risk of icing on fresh waters increases.

Galls are always a feature of autumn, such as these Spangle Galls on Oak leaves, and there are then of course the fungi. Their high season is just starting, and will be a feature hopefully of the next #WildEssex walk…for today, it was Sycamore Tar-spot  and a troop of Shaggy Ink-caps in all stages of development.

And so it was lunch in Castle Park followed by a welcome drink in the Marquis as a fine full stop to the event, one that may become a regular offering, suitable for any time of year.

#WildEssex on Tour: across the border – to Felixstowe

Britain's Wildlife, Bug & Botany Walks, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

Following two previous successful #WildEssex on tour events, to Harlow last year and Burnham in 2022, this time we ventured abroad (out of the county!) to Felixstowe. A different county maybe, but Essex was in sight for most of the time…

We assembled at lunchtime on the first day at the Alex, for a fine snack and a drink. We had been worried by the wet and windy weather forecast but it was warm enough to sit outside, and the sun even came out for us. Indeed the weather gods were on our side for all three days: the threatened heavy, prolonged rain came when we were indoors or asleep, and the only time we got really wet was walking home from the station at the very end.

Our first afternoon was spent examining the Felixstowe seafront and gardens. Looking out seaward gave some idea of the busyness of the shipping lanes out there, with some huge container vessels on the horizon looking more like the Manhattan skyline than anything afloat.

Large rock groynes provide an artificial rocky shore habitat, with seaweeds, limpets and other marine life. As we looked at an array of shells found on the shingle beach, a Red Admiral plonked down next to us. A very fresh individual, it was probably migrating southwards, something that has been happening en masse over the past couple of weeks.

The planting on the cliff slopes is largely Mediterranean shrubs, some still in flower, others in fruit…

Best of all for insects though, as always at this time of year, was the flowering Ivy, abuzz with Ivy Bees, Honeybees, bumblebees and hoverflies, all a rich source of food for the Garden Spiders.

The Holm Oaks were absolutely riddled with leaf-mines from the micromoth Phyllonorycter messaniella, to a greater extent than we have seen elsewhere. Although a bit unsightly, such infestations apparently don’t affect the tree significantly, and each mine contains a mini-morsel for a Blue Tit – it is good to see a non-native tree that is likely to be a big part of our future landscape garnering its own ecology, fitting it to its new home.

The geology of the cliffs, with gravels over clays, means there are springs, which have been tamed and corralled into water features, some dripping with newly formed tufa, ponds with Curled Pondweed, Watercress and Monkeyflower; pond-skaters skittering on the surface; and rocks covered with Ivy-leaved Toadflax.

Grassy slopes had Wild Clary in flower, and the lower, salt-splattered lawns were clothed in the attractive rosettes of Common Stork’s-bill and Buck’s-horn Plantain. And cracks on the promenade were colonised by Guernsey Fleabane and Water Bent, two relatively new plants in these parts, but again likely to be a big part of our future in an overheated world.

A walk along the prom, via a cuppa in the Spa Pavilion, finished the afternoon, with most then opting for dinner at the Premier Inn. But no takers for the batting option in Langer Park!

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Next day dawned dull with spots of wet in the breeze. As we headed to the north side of town on foot and by bus, a patch of Caper Spurge weaved an interesting pattern …

… and the view out to sea reflected to rather dismal weather.

Heading towards Felixstowe Ferry, we soon diverted onto vegetated shingle, an internationally important habitat type and one for which Suffolk is justifiably renowned, the realm of Sea Kale and Sea Pea, Sea Campion and Sea Beet, Sea Holly and Sea Spurge … quite a theme developing there!

Down by the saline pools there was a saltmarsh of Sea Purslane and Annual Seablite, now assuming its diverse autumn tints, but few birds apart from gulls (including a Great Black-back), Cormorants and a Little Egret.

Continuing along the seawall, past the Martello Towers, we found plenty of botanical interest, including Lucerne (purple), Sickle Medick (yellow) and Sand Lucerne, the remarkable hybrid between the two in a whole range of intermediate and extramediate hues.

White Ramping-fumitory was  in good flower, and there were plenty of (soggy) seed-heads, including Hare’s-foot Clover, Rough Dog’s-tail and Bristly Ox-tongue in a veritable botanical menagerie.

 

Here Jude also spotted several Firebugs feeding upon Mallow seeds, a very recent arrival first found across the water around Harwich in the last five years, and Turnip Sawflies, in a similar colour palette.

Having discussed (and in some cases tasted) foods from nature on the shingle (pea, kale, holly and beet) we soon found ourselves among more edibles and flavourings, including Fennel, Duke of Argyll’s Tea-tree (goji berries), Dittander (like Horseradish), Sea Radish and, best of all, the mini taste-bombs of Crow Garlic bulbils, a revelation even to me. The Suffolk coastal paleo-diet seems an apt descriptor, except of course that many of these plants we simply not here in ‘paleo’ times!

Into Felixstowe Ferry hamlet, with Bawdsey Manor in sight, we headed into the Ferryboat for liquid refreshment, while once again the sun came out and warmed things up, before the foot ferry to Bawdsey Quay took us to a lovely picnic spot overlooking a tranquil Deben Estuary.

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At our feet was a small sand dune with Sea Holly, Sea Mayweed and Marram, with a drift-line of Sea Rocket, Frosted Orache and Prickly Saltwort.

The rocket and related crucifers were being absolutely demolished by Large White butterfly caterpillars.

In the humid air, Migrant Hawker dragonflies were flying around in force, while along the woodland edge a few insects were tracked down, including Nettle-tap moth and a pair of the long-legged flies Liancalus virens. Normally associated with waterfalls and fast-flowing streams, and therefore mostly found in the western half of the country, there is one previous record on the NBN Atlas from around Ipswich, and in Essex at least there is a concentration of records from the estuarine fringes.

Juicy brambles and Alexanders seeds (like aromatic peppercorns) were added to our seaside banquet as Robins were singing their wistful autumn songs in the trees, which included several large Turkey Oaks. The Holm Oaks here had leaf-miners, but mostly the smaller galleries of Ectoedemia heringella, along with pimple-galls caused by gall-mites. Lime and Field Maple also showed mite-galls, impressively so in the case of the lime nail-galls,  while Field Maple and Sycamore showed distinctive signs of fungal attack, mildew and tar-spot respectively.

But as the afternoon was progressing, it was time for the return ferry, into Winkles café for a cuppa, then the walk back, past migrant Wheatears, some Tamarisk in full bloom and a Devil’s Coach-horse with upcurled abdomen, alarmed and alarming in equal measure.

The return buses were so infrequent and the clouds so threatening that we decided to walk the whole way back along the prom (or as near as we could when diverted), to the Boardwalk Bar on the pier for rehydration purposes and sunset, the Fish Dish for a splendid meal. And for some a more leisurely return to the Boardwalk afterwards….

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A rainy breakfast time on the final day soon dried up; the sun came out but the wind rose, scuppering the plans of some of the group to take the Harwich Foot Ferry home in the  afternoon. But time for a good couple of hours on Landguard Point and Common, a great vantage point to watch the incessant port activity and comings and goings of shipping, and recognize the internationally strategic value of this location, now and in the past – the reasons for the Fort and the bird observatory being there, defence and migration study respectively.

At the seaward edges of the shingle peninsula, lines of Oraches, including Babington’s, and Prickly Saltwort picked out the drift-line.

Moving inland, impressive patches of Yellow Horned-poppy, untidy but still just in flower, mingled with Sea Kale again.

Sandier patches were dominated more by Sea Spurge and Sea Holly, with a few plants of Ray’s Knotgrass, never an easy species to track down.

One the more stabilised dune- and shingle-heath shingle Heath, Reindeer ‘Mosses’ and Sandhill Screw-moss dominated large patches, with  Common Stork’s-bill (in flower this time), Sticky Groundsel and Sand Cat’s-tail, plus last few flowering Viper’s-bugloss.

    

Despite the wind, a few birds on the Common included feeding Pied Wagtails and Meadow Pipits, with twittering Linnets in the bushes and Starlings overhead. Then to the oldest part of all, vegetation-wise, the shingle scrub with Elder and Wild Privet. In the shelter and sun, there was plenty of insect activity including a Box Bug nymph and more Common Blues than we have seen put together over the past summer…

All that was then left was to head back to the Viewpoint Café for a superb (late!) brunch, passing Narrow-leaved Ragwort and Jersey Cudweed on the way, more new plants potentially brought in by the port trade.

And after a great three days, time for fond farewells, all without getting seriously wet: WildEssex 1, Met Office 0! Thanks to all who helped make it such fun!!

A walk round Silver End…

Britain's Wildlife, Miscellaneous, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

It was the day before the autumn equinox, but the weather had other ideas: perfect blue skies and hot sunshine, in a last flurry of summer. Where to go? What to do? Why not a trip to Silver End: train to Witham, then bus to our destination, only 40 minutes’ travel if the connections work.

We do like a bit of social history, especially living history in bricks and mortar. Over the past few years we have spent very happy days visiting Saltaire, New Lanark, Port Sunlight and East Tilbury, all living villages that were created to house the workers from local industry. Whether through philanthropy or a desire of the ‘master’ to exercise control over his workforce more easily is a moot point…

But our closest ‘model village’ was until this weekend a mystery to us, despite the fact we have driven past the sign to it on the A12 countless times over the years. Silver End was developed from 1926 as a village to house workers for the Crittall windows factory, and plenty of the original buildings survive, mostly with the distinctive metal-framed windows produced at the site, and apparently used here to test their durability in the face of British weather.

Especially on Silver Street and Francis Way, the view is still remarkably intact, with flat-roofed ivory-white buildings, often with pebble-dashed chimneys, in remarkable conformity.

Aside from these, there is an array of contemporary housing designs, each immediate group differing from others through the whims of different architects, together with buildings providing community services such as schools, hotel, larger houses for the management and municipal parks.

One of the most celebrated of the listed Modernist houses is ‘Le Chateau’, the one that established the template for the rest of the village, although its current state of apparent neglect shows that listing is of little value in itself unless it comes with a responsibility to maintain.

But the whole community still feels intact. We had been expecting the worst, especially having seen East Tilbury, but we were very pleasantly surprised…

East Tilbury still has the iconic BATA factory, albeit in a state of dereliction, at its heart…

… but sadly at Silver End, the Crittall factory buildings were mostly demolished in 2008. The heart was ripped out of the meaning of the whole settlement, despite its recognition as a conservation area.

Just a few disused factory buildings survive today, amid a vast swathe of brownfield land. It is hard to imagine any modern development that could replace these without destroying the raison-d’être of Silver End. Perhaps it would be best left in this state of ‘urban decay’, which of course would certainly add wildlife value into the mix.

The small area we were able to explore (most is behind serious exclusionary barricades) had a typically random mix of plants from Narrow-leaved Ragwort to Raspberry, and Red Valerian to Guernsey Fleabane, all covered in Large and Small White butterflies and Seven-spot Ladybirds. Brownfield sites never fail to excite!

 

While the hub of Silver End seems to be the Co-op, on the site of a department store to serve the model village which burned down in 1951, only at the edge of the village is there a pub, the Western Arms. And what a find that was: a good pint (or two!) and great food  (homemade pie for me, mushroom linguini for Jude, with a seafood starter from the fish kiosk) in the beer-garden. And with a female Migrant Hawker  for company  as well! She found the wooden fence to her liking, and arched her abdomen several times as though she were egg-laying, although no water in sight: a mystery to finish our excellent day out!

 

Walks in Progress: Exploring the Colne Valley Path around Chappel

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

Again looking for potential new day-long wildlife walks (see Around the peaks of the Essex Alps.…), we headed by train to the village of Chappel, half -way along the branch-line from Marks Tey to Sudbury, on a lovely, calm, sunny autumn day. Often overshadowed by its neighbouring Stour Valley, the one with the designation of Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (now rebranded National Landscapes), to our mind the Colne, running from Great Yeldham to Colchester and thence to the tidal estuary we are fortunate enough to wake up to every day, is every bit as ‘Outstanding’!

We headed upstream from Chappel through the broad, sweeping pastoral valley with well-wooded slopes.

Every so often the paths approach or cross the river itself…

Here we found Grey Wagtails, Kingfisher and Little Egret; twittering, feeding Swallows; and riverbanks in places with dense patches of Small Teasel, scarce in Essex, and very much a speciality of the northernmost river valleys.

And plenty of human interest as well from churches to mills and fishing ponds.

Away from the valley bottom, the landscape was more enclosed with large hedgerows, just bursting with the fruits (and galls) of the season, as well as buzzing with the multitudinous visitors to the late-summer riches of Ivy flowers: Honeybees, Ivy Bees, bumblebees, hoverflies, Box Bugs, social wasps and many more. Also Red Admirals, although not showing the urgent migratory behaviour we had seen for the previous week along the coast.

In the grassland, several Small Heaths were flying, and a sluggish Hornet gave unbeatable views.

At Chalkney Mill we left the river behind and headed uphill through Chalkney Wood. An ancient wood with a interesting history, I was involved 20 years ago in securing the deconiferization of the two-thirds of the wood owned by the Forestry Commission. And now you would never know that it had had a forty-year blip in its venerable history of coppicing. It was especially reassuring to see Small-leaved Lime, the tree for which the wood is especially renowned, rising from the ashes of herbicide application and dense, dark overshading.

Far from the best time of year to see such a wood, the sheltered rides at least had good numbers of dragonflies: Common Darters, Migrant Hawkers and a Southern Hawker.

Returning along the higher ground, passing damp woods and springs filled with Great Horsetail and Common Fleabane …

… we reached some of the more sandy peaks, with excellent views and a few characteristic plants such as Blue Fleabane.

In addition the arable fields on the plateaux were not without interest, some sown with bird-seed mixes, and others newly ploughed tracts revealing abundant flints. There is no chalk locally for flints to come from: these hills are clothed in ‘chalky boulder clay’, the accumulated detritus picked up further north from the melting of the Anglian glacial advance.

And something I have never seen before, Wispy Willowherb Epilobium brachycarpum growing as an arable ‘weed’. This is a a rapidly spreading species from its first UK discovery, near Colchester, as recently as 2004.

Another short walk and the magnificent railway viaduct formed a fine full stop to the walk. Completed in 1849 and still used to this day, this is one of the largest brick structures in the country, containing about the same number of bricks – some 6 million – as Battersea Power Station!

All this, and more on our stroll, when ended very convivially with a pint and a super meal in The Swan Inn, back down beside the river itself. Lots of potential for wildlife walks around here: quintessentially English landscape, with nothing rare perhaps but still lots to see at any time from spring to autumn.

 

#WildEssexWalks: Harwich town and beach

Britain's Wildlife, Bug & Botany Walks, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

Despite disappointment that our proposed ferry trip to Felixstowe wasn’t possible due to windy weather, we nevertheless thoroughly enjoyed half of our planned day’s event – a morning’s walk around Harwich – the Wild Essex event for September.  The ‘après walk’ of lunch in the Pier Café and a drink in the Alma only added to the fun and we’d like to thank everyone who came along.

Harwich with its many historic buildings was once a busy and thriving port, but today had a relaxed air of an out-of-season holiday destination, with few other visitors. And the cracks of the pavements were filled with interesting plants such as Shaggy Soldier.

We had the beach to ourselves, which gave a free rein to admire and study the plants which thrive in this most inhospitable of habitats: Sea Rocket on the strandline, Lyme Grass, Rock Samphire, Sea Spurge and Sea-holly on the low dunes, although the latter especially was looking very frazzled after the midsummer heat and drought.

Greenest of all was the clump of Japanese Rose, also with its large lustrous hips and a few extravagantly scented flowers. An aggressive spreader in some circumstances, it was good to see it has remained pretty stable since we left the area a decade ago.

We did a quick roll-call of shells on the beach – cockles, mussels, oysters, limpets, slipper-limpets and whelks to name but a few, but although we hunted high and low we weren’t fortunate enough to find any of the fossilized sharks’ teeth which we know reside on the beach.  It’s one of those things – sometimes you’re lucky and sometimes not!

Of course we managed a spot of birdwatching whilst there, with Sandwich Terns passing by noisily and fishing just offshore,  a medley of different gulls providing aerial entertainment and  Turnstones feeding unobtrusively on the rocky, weed-covered shoreline of the Harwich Stone Band, the only natural rocky shore between North Norfolk and Kent.

The few insects around (there had been quite a temperature drop overnight) included plasterer bees feeding and fighting (or frolicking?) on flowers of Bristly Oxtongue: the bees were probably Sea Aster Mining-bees, though related species are very difficult to tell apart.

On the other side of the estuary the comings and goings of the busy port of Felixstowe were interesting to view, as were the various arrays of wind turbines, very visible in the clear morning sky.

We hope to rearrange this trip next year – aiming for early summer rather than late, in the hope that the weather will be calmer and the ferry will be running.

Southend and seaward …

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

It all started in April this year when we took Eleanor away for a night for the second time (the first being Cambridge last summer), this time to Southend-on-Sea. In the event it was very windy and cold so we spent most of our time in the indoor play area of Adventure Island (Eleanor was happy!) but we did take a train ride out to the end of the longest pier in the world.

A confession: although I worked most of my career on the Essex coast, I had never before been to the end of the pier. Perhaps it’s because of my challenging introduction to it, one of the first cases I worked on fresh out of university in 1986. That was a horrendous proposal to claim a vast swathe of land from the mudflats around the pier, creating an artificial island to be clad in hundreds of houses and fringed by a marina. It was a sorry tale of corruption and murky East End money (I was warned to be vigilant for violent reprisals)… Quite an eye opener so early in my career: conservation wasn’t all about fluffy bunnies and beautiful butterflies!

Anyway, once the political corruption was uncovered the development fell apart, and the data gathered by RSPB to help our case gave me all I needed to designate the entirety of Southend frontage as SSSI, Special Protection Area and Ramsar site – a place of national and international importance for overwintering waterbirds. Hitherto the only bit between Shoeburyness and Canvey that had benefited from protection was Leigh National Nature Reserve, centred around the vast Eel-grass beds off Two Tree Island and Leigh, justifiably famed for its Brent Geese.

So when I finally got to the end of the pier nearly 40 years later it was with fresh eyes,  upriver to London Gateway (another big case I worked on), landward, Kentward and seaward, where we saw the Red Sands forts hovering enticingly on the horizon  in front of the giant wind turbines of London Array some 3km beyond.

The Maunsell forts, built as defensive gun emplacements in WW2, are still standing proud and rusting, like something from a sci-fi movie. We had seen them and been similarly thrilled by them in the past from Whitstable, visited an exhibition about them, and always fancied a visit up close. Indeed we had booked one ten years ago, but the operator ceased trading. So it was great to find Jetstream tours online, now taking trips out there from Southend Pier. We duly booked for last week, taking the opportunity for another night away in Southend, one holiday triggering another!

Our recent jaunt started at Leigh-on-sea station, heading into the charms of Old Leigh …

And especially the Peterboat Inn, right by the NNR and serving for me the most wonderful tasty and filling clam chowder, served in a cob.

Then it was along the seawall track all the way to the pier, the high tide-line dotted with Golden-samphire, Grass-leaved Orache and Sea Wormwood…

To the landward, there was Perennial Wall-rocket, Common Toadflax and Seaside Daisy, with climbing Ivy covered in insects and scrambling Wild Clematis.

Along the whole of the 5km frontage, wherever there was Common Mallow there were Firebugs, a new arrival in the county (and country) that would not have been here when I first knew it. Nor indeed would have been Mediterranean Gulls, at least in such large numbers…

Next morning dawned misty and threatening rain, although that didn’t deter the local wildlife from making the most of the post-summer holiday human detritus on the cliff slopes. The large oak trees were not, as we normally expect, clothed in galls, perhaps a reflection of the windy conditions overlooking the estuary, although the leaves did show numerous leaf-mines.

Out at the end of the pier, there were spawning groups of Grey Mullet, lots of Herring and Black-headed Gulls, along with more Mediterraneans, and some decent roosting flocks of Turnstones, newly back from the tundra…

But most remarkable was the number of Red Admirals migrating south along the pier, reaching the end and, not able to see the other side, circling round presumably until the migratory urge eventually forced them over. There were hundreds throughout the day, including several way out over the open mouth of the estuary. A similar movement was picked up along the Dutch coast the same day. Remarkable really, especially as these are not the individuals that made the springtime journey here. Not even the parents, but probably the grandparents may have made it here, if indeed they were not ones that survived the winter here as many now do.

So it was off eastwards into the open estuary ,,,

… well, as open an estuary as it can be with all the buoys, beacons and wrecks, and many, many vessels, both trading and (like dredgers and cable-layers) working.

The traffic was heavy and the visibility far from perfect, so perhaps it wasn’t surprising that apart from gulls and Cormorants (and Red Admirals – one photobombing the picture above!), there were rather few seabirds an other marine life. Just a few Gannets passed by, together with Common and Little Terns, a flock of Wigeons and passing overhead a couple of migrating Rock Pipits.

Then after more than an hour of steaming eventually the shape of the forts emerged from the mist. So far out, yet they seemed no nearer than when we had seen them previously from the pier. Perhaps that was a bit of a magnified mirage as can happen over water?

Closer and ever closer we headed, and the details be came clearer …

… until we went right through the array, between the slightly offset searchlight tower and the rest. Remarkable structures, formerly joined by aerial walkways, they are probably now beyond repair and being claimed by rust and gulls. If you want to visit them, and we would thoroughly recommend it, don’t leave it too long!

Round and round we went, seeing the array from every angle, through the watery upwellings of sunken forts, past the potentially explosive wreck of the ‘Liberty Ship’, the SS Richard Montgomery, and back to Southend Pier three hours after our departure. A wonderful day out and a fitting centrepiece to the September leg of our year of monthly delights.

Late summer in Cambridge Botanic Garden

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

A summertime trip to Cambridge Botanic Garden is always in order: there are the flowers of course, but also insects using the garden’s resources. Well, at least in most years: the poor insect showing of 2024 has been mentioned time again in these blogs, and sadly the story was the same here last week.

Of course there were insects, but fewer in number and range than we hoped for, although bumblebees at least seemed to be thriving, albeit almost all of just one species (Buff-tailed), around the flowers of Eryngium, Scabiosa, Echinops and Lavandula in particular.

Otherwise the following selection shows quite a good range of insects, although remember that all too many of these were just single individuals.

Several things though we did find noteworthy, from the remarkable camouflage of multi-instar aggregations of Dock Bugs on the seeds of Great Water Dock to foraging Bee-wolves, not particularly special nowadays but always a thrill for those of us with memories back to the 20th century, when they were restricted to far southern heathlands…

… and a new carrion beetle to us, Silpha laevigata, a specialist of the Chilterns and North Downs chalk on account of it favoured prey, snails.

Another, perhaps less unexpected, surprise was on the leaves of one of the Mediterranean evergreen oaks, Quercus trojana, which bore leaf-mines identical to those of the micromoth Phyllonorycter messaniella. This is familiar to us now as a miner of Holm Oak, but not according to our researches this new host species. Then again, who is looking?

Apart from that it was left to the plants to entertain, including species (sometimes rather rare) native to our shores …

… to those that have established themselves in the wild from cultivation in the past few centuries …

… and those that, at least for now, are garden novelties only.

 

Otherwise it was up to certain species, here Cornelian-cherry and Deadly Nightshade, to give us a hint of the impending season.

All that is left to say is a twinge of disappointment that the eco-optimism we felt on previous visits may have been misplaced. Where was the long grass? Maybe (being generous) it had already been harvested as hay, but especially after such a slow start to the summer, an August cut would have decimated insect populations. And on that topic, why celebrate the flowering of Thalia dealbata as a point of garden interest, given its now well documented antisocial behaviour, killing pollinators slowly.

Having said that, it was always a pleasure to be there, and so convenient for our preferred travel by rail!