Continuing our series of short breaks in places no-one thinks about visiting for fun, we headed to Reading. It was a trip dominated by water: a deluge on the third day, and both the Thames and Kennet brim full and in full spate after the rain of the past few months.

Indeed, such was the flooding that our planned walk along the Thames Path and back along the Kennet soon came to a sploshy premature conclusion:

Rivers mean bridges and railings, always a good opportunity for photos…

… while pond-snails foraged on the rusty rails, presumably scraping up algae and camouflage at the same time.

Of course we knew about the rivers in advance, but what we were not prepared for was the history in the town. The Abbey Ruins especially were impressive, made all the more alluring by the fact that it was then the sun came out for the only time, and the skies cleared to crystalline blue.

As with ancient walls everywhere, the stonework provides ample niches for microcosmic gardens, each packed with biodiversity. Only Whitlow-grass in flower right now, but imagine what they will be like in a short few weeks’ time…

Churchyards as always were filled with life, from flowering Yews to moss-sprung turf …

… with parks and plantings starting to bloom and bud-burst after the winter slumber. Here, Cherry-plum, Cornelian-cherry and Box in flower, with the beautiful buds of Winged Spindle, and last year’s filigree festoons of Old Man’s Beard:

Interesting old buildings everywhere, including the Minster and its patterned walls…

…  to more recent, yet still fascinating buildings reminding us of the half-remembered features of the town: the Gaol and biscuits!

And so to the unashamedly modern: glass and underpasses, fossils in the pavements, sculpture and living walls:

… while from almost every angle, The Blade watches benevolently overhead, competing for attention only with the Red Kites.

And finally the main reason for our visit: the Museum, itself housed in an impressive building …

… filled with everything from biscuit tins to Roman artefacts from the nearby Silchester:

… and the replica of the Bayeux ‘Tapestry’. A Victorian facsimile, this is full scale, 70 metres long,  and was featured in a BBC art series a couple of years ago. It was this that meant we found ourselves in the town, but as with so much about Reading we were wholly unprepared for the impact it would have on us. An hour walking slowly round the gallery was like being immersed in a living graphic novel, and at the end we felt we had been through the carnage of the battle. As good a reason as any to go to Reading, just to see that.

For our first trip of the year we headed back to one of our favourite stamping grounds, Chiswick (see here for previous blog). Not only is the Premier Inn right next to the Chiswick Flyover (!) it is also just about the cheapest room we have found. And it is next to the Fullers brewery!! And a friendly pub, the George & Devonshire!!!

On top of all of that, Chiswick is a great hopping off point to sites in West London we wanted to visit. And as we realised this time, a couple of places sharing a common theme of Reuse and Recycle, part of the palimpsest of history, each new chapter overwritten on the previous.

So on the way there it was Battersea Power Station: an incredible, hulking edifice, its shape so iconic, and now converted to somewhere you can actually visit and touch some of its six million bricks.

Inside as well as out, simply vast, but tastefully done, the shop signs in concordance with each other and lacking gaudy advertising, just like we found so pleasing in an equally imposing edifice last year, the Halifax Piece Hall.

But as well as its sheer bulk, there are artistic touches everywhere, intentional and otherwise, some absolutely remarkable for such an utilitarian building:

The only slight disappointment was the way the edifice is now hemmed in by new high-rise flats (no doubt needed to fund the conservation of the main building)…

But from the riverbank the iconic outline is still visible, along with views  along the Thames:

Out on the water there was a flock of Gadwalls, and then on the supports of the coal jetty, the most wonderful lichenscapes and mossy microcosms:

Then after a restorative drink, courtesy of the Battersea Brewery Tap Room, underneath the arches of the railway. we headed through Battersea Park to the station. The Power Station loomed from every angle, and the park had sculpture and palm trees:

Winter Honeysuckles were blooming, each flower extravagantly fragranced, and attracting lots of bumblebee interest, while on the lake Shovelers were getting into the swing, or spin, of Spring, one particular pair spinning round and round, heads down, beak to beak, for minutes on end. Feeding frenzy, or pair bonding…or both?

Next morning dawned crisp and blue, perfect light for a stroll through the grounds of Chiswick House to the station:

Our destination, more reused and recycled infrastructure, the London Wetland Centre at Barnes, a visionary rescaping of the former Barn Elms Reservoirs from water supply to wetland biodiversity and education.

Something for all here, from the captive but entertaining (again including many Spring frolics, especially among the head-tossing Goldeneyes and skittering Smews) …

… to the wild birds, often remarkably tame as well …

… although not always: the Moorhens were going at it with all the ferocity of fighting cocks.

Aside from birds, it was good to find a Cream-streaked Ladybird, Winter Aconites and our first Cherry-plum flower of the season, and Butcher’s-broom, simultaneously flowering and fruiting a year apart.

And natural art, from the depths of winter to the cheering new shoots of the year.

At the weekend, we spent a very happy couple of days exploring parts of London we haven’t been to before as well as some old favourites, and a foray out into the Surrey countryside. Here are some of the photos from our travels, with words kept to a bare minimum…

First stop, just after emerging from the Jubilee Line at London Bridge was the Hop Exchange, a remarkable building which a friendly security man was very happy to tell us all about – as he said, ‘what is the point of learning if you keep it to yourself’! The similarities with  the Halifax Piece Hall we explored on one of our visits earlier in the year – same function, different commodity –  were very apparent.

On emerging back into the street, we noticed the Shard looking over our shoulder, a looming but kindly presence throughout our time in Southwark:

A wander around the streets took us to the delightful Red Cross Garden which gave us a nymphal Southern Green Shieldbug…

…and then to Crossbones Cemetery, one of our main reasons for this trip. With a rich but shocking history as a last resting ground for thousands of those on the fringes of society, it is a tiny haven from city life, despite its proximity to numerous landmark features.

Lunch at The George, with its galleries, before more walking the streets, peering wherever fancy took us in the manner of all good psychogeography. And of course spending as much time with the new – the incredible Shard – as the old…

Peckham next for more of the (relatively) new, with the Pioneer Centre, from the 1930s Peckham Experiment approach to community and social welfare, and Peckham Library, the product of millennial modernity:

Overnight in the Barking Ibis gave us chance for a lovely walk at dawn along Barking Creek, one of our favourite parts of the Metropolitan Essex coastline, with Jersey Cudweed, Cormorants and Cetti’s Warblers to guide our way:

Then it was back to Waterloo, and a jaunt down the Necropolis Line, or the modern equivalent thereof, to Brookwood Cemetery in deepest Surrey.

Brookwood may have been established to satisfy an urgent need in the heart of the city, but its size is so vast (it is the largest cemetery in the UK) that it is still under-utilized, with lovely acid heathland habitats within its bounds.

Special plants, such as Devil’s-bit Scabious and Dwarf Gorse, abound ..

.. along with all manner of animal life, including Small Copper, Fork-palped Harvestman, Alder Leaf-beetle. Rhododendron Leafhopper and the green spider Nigma walckenaeri …

… and a whole lot more.

A large section of the cemetery is given over to military burials; the most thought-provoking part of the whole site is the American section, the gleaming gravestones being laid out with such precision, and eliciting many conflicting emotions around the futility of war within the beauty of the natural world…

After the cemetery, there was just time for a stroll along the Basingstoke Canal….

…before heading back to Crossbones for the monthly vigil, a rather moving plea for social justice, sadly as relevant nowadays as when the cemetery was in operation.

Two cemeteries, from two eras: when will we ever learn?

Our final morning in Aberdeen, and the rain has arrived. Overnight the granite city has become the dour granite city! Such a monochromatic contrast to yesterday…

We broke the journey south for three hours by the Firth of Forth, changing on to a stopping train at Inverkeithing where a Hawthorn Shield-bug sidled across the platform, another insect towards the northern end of its UK distribution. We rescued it from trampling feet!

Then a couple of stops down the line and across the rail bridge to Dalmeny. A wander down through the woods, past fruiting Rowans and Speckled Wood butterflies, brought us to the shore and its wonderful views of the iconic Forth Rail Bridge, with the modern road bridges further west.

The best thing was the fact that against all forecasts, the sun re-emerged, lighting the bridge and its rusty colour. Simply magnificent!

Out on the water, solitary Guillemots and small rafts of Razorbills were loafing and diving:

South Queensferry was busy (a cruise ship was moored just downstream) but lovely …

… and all too soon, it was back on the train and into a now-dismal England. Overnight in York the rain continued, so next day we had a wet wander round the walls, with Wall-rue ferns and Shaggy Soldiers.

Most interesting was the sight of snails (mostly Banded Snails with just a few Garden Snails) on certain sections, the only likely dry-weather refuges being the grassy embankments four or five metres below.

Into a pub to shelter, we suddenly realised our holiday was ticking away, and sought the wild once more. After checking numerous Senecios in vain, from Common and Sticky Groundsels to Oxford and Narrow-leaved Ragworts (it was only with close scrutiny that I realised how much the old flowerheads in rain look like sea-anemones!) …

 …. and along a steeply sloping concrete embankment of the Ouse we at last found the prize, the locally endemic York Groundsel. A fertile hybrid between Groundsel and Oxford Ragwort, it is surprisingly distinctive with eight yellow rays. What’s more, this is a de-extincted plant. First found and named Senecio eboracensis in the 1970s, by the noughties it was globally extinct in the wild, a victim of City Council herbicide profligacy. Thankfully the Millennium Seedbank at Wakehurst Place had some seeds, which were grown on and enabled its return to the wild earlier this summer.

Sadly we were unable to find the other York speciality, Tansy Beetle, except in art form, despite some good stands of the foodplant. A good reason for us to return.

And so our holiday drew to a close. Five nights, six days, and five rail journeys which thanks to early booking and a railcard cost just a couple of hundred pounds!

We saw Aberdeen at its best, at least for our one full day there, in sunlight and under azure skies. Far from being the monochrome, grey granite city of repute, the sunlight brought the stone and the city to life.

Once again it was a whirlwind mix of culture and wild. The city centre has lots of monumental buildings, photogenic in the right light …

… and especially down by the docks, the cityscape is enlivened by equally monumental street art.

Union Terrace Gardens, recently remodelled, provided a wonderful pocket of green, set off by impressive modern constructions:

And the gardens themselves are full of interesting plants, and plenty of insect activity. What’s not to love about a garden that features apparently deliberate ornamental plantings of Timothy grass!

Out then to Old Aberdeen, a world away from the bustle of the modern city into the historic seat of learning, and modern place for leisure and pleasure.

Attractive buildings and cobbled street scenes in abundance are laced with the ever-present colours of Fuchsia…

… and the lovely Cathedral of St Machar, with its impressive ceiling, stained glass and rough stone walls.

Nearby, the Botanic Garden. There is no truth in the rumour that our trips are planned around places like this! Just as with Dundee, the garden is full of light and life, colour and interest.

And almost next door, into Seaton Park, a mix of cultivated ‘wild’ and natural green space, the latter running down to the wildness of the River Don, with Goosanders  and the sound of rushing water.

But as is so often the case it was the ornamental gardens forming the main focus of insect activity:

Back to the Fuschia, it was interesting to watch the way that Honeybees were getting the nectar without delivering on their side of the pollination bargain, chewing through the base of the flower tube to get at it. In fact, on close examination, almost every flower had been on the receiving end of nectar thieves.

But as we headed back to the hotel, so the sun disappeared, cloud was spreading in, and change was afoot, ready for the next phase of our holiday, the two-day journey home…

Everywhere we go, whether countryside or city, we seek, and usually find, nature. In Dundee, it was right outside the hotel, with Guillemots and Cormorants fishing offshore, Shore Crabs scrambling through the exposed seaweed, and everywhere Lesser Black-backed Gulls seeking an easy meal from the outside tables.

Ornamental plantings around the V&A attracted our attention because of the dozens of Rosemary Beetles, here towards the northern end of their current range. But for some unknown reason there was not one on the various labiates (their recognised foodplants) planted there. All were on Stipa and other ornamental grasses, something we have never seen before; a plea on Twitter failed to come up with an adequate explanation, nor indeed other examples of this mystery phenomenon.

One of the main street trees around the redevelopment of the waterfront are a form of Elm, and on many of the larger specimens, the trunks were patterned with lichens and Horse Chestnut Scale-insects.

Around the old Victoria Dock, as is typical of such former industrial areas, a brownfield flora has established, Buddleia being a major component, mixed with a few maritime species like Sea Mayweed.

And the funnel of the rusting lightship has been colonised by very artistic lichenscapes, no doubt in part a result of the nutrient from bird droppings.

The Botanic Garden was just lovely, one of the better such gardens of the many we have visited in my opinion.

Of course it featured many attractive and interesting plants from around the world…

 …. many of which were feeding insects in the warm, sunny weather.

At the heart of the garden is a very impressive attempt to recreate the full range of locally native habitats, from sand dunes, to Caledonian pine forest and montane cliffs.

These habitat zones were a great opportunity to see rarities that need a hard slog and much remote searching to find in the wild, such as Dwarf Birch, Mountain Sorrel and Woolly Willow…

… while Devil’s-bit Scabious in full flower seemed an irresistible draw to numerous hoverflies.

From Birch Shield-bugs on the Silver Birch trees to epiphytic lichens in the branches, and fungi sprouting from the mulch, the whole area hosted the whole spectrum of native wildlife…

… including a distinctively shaped, blackish carrion beetle (playing dead at first) we identified as Phosphuga atrata, something we haven’t seen before although it is widespread across the country.

Always something of interest to find in a new area, but after a couple of days it was time to get back onto the train to head up the coast to Aberdeen…

Leaving Bath for the last half of our three-day train trip, it was under the Severn, out of the sun and into the rain of the Vale of Glamorgan.

Llantwit Major, close to the south coast, has a beach with cliffs, a view over the Bristol Channel to Exmoor, and is a place where the vegetation is sculpted by salt-laden sea-spray:

This close to the warmth of the sea, pushed inland by incessant south-westerlies, the landscape also features a suite of plants we are less used to seeing in winter-chilled and droughted Essex, at least in such bounty. Chusan Palms are scattered around, including in the churchyard,  while every stone wall is festooned with Ivy-leaved Toadflax:

In field corners and gardens, Monbretia is naturalized in golden swathes …

and the hedgerows are largely of Fuchsia, now in full bloom.

Notwithstanding the Fuchsia originate from South America, they seem to be much used by local bees, including Common Carders, Honeybees and Buff-tailed Bumbles. In abundance – between the showers every bush was a-buzzing:

St Illtyd’s church is a fascinating place. Looking every bit a ‘standard’ parish church, it is the site of one of the earliest seats of Christian learning in the country, and its internal features reflect that, with remarkable mediaeval wall paintings:

But most impressive of all are the Celtic stones, covered in symbols and inscriptions that hark back to a pagan past. Corralled together inside the restored chapel they are to my mind a little out of context – cut off from the spirits of the outdoors, from which they derive their symbolic power …

… but at least they are protected from the elements, which showed their force as we sheltered inside!

And Nature is never too far away. The stonework at the restored end of the building features an ammonite fossil …

… and the churchyard itself is far from being an over-tidied, pesticide-poisoned waste, the fate of all too many even in these relatively ecologically enlightened times.

It may have been only a short break, but we covered a lot of ground at leisure, and were able to immerse ourselves in landscapes and weather we are most unused to at home!

Three hours on a train brought us to a very hot and sunny Bath for a full day of exploration, after years since either of us had been there. And the first impression, particularly in the sun, set against blue skies, was a city defined by, almost hewn out of, its local geology: the beautiful honey-coloured oolitic limestone.

All the classic elements of architecture share the limestone in a remarkable, World Heritage display of geoconcordance, from the Abbey…

… to the Roman Baths (notwithstanding the considerable inducements not to sit on the stone shelves!) …

… to the Circus, with its wonderful quincunx of massive Plane trees (sadly under threat, we later learned) …

…and the Royal Arcade …

.. as well as less renowned vistas throughout the city.

So many ‘cliffs’, it is not surprising that there were Peregrines around, along with numerous Herring And Lesser Black-backed Gulls: Bath was renowned as one of the first locations where the inland, urban breeding habit of these ‘seagulls’ was recorded.

Given its location in a loop of the River Avon, bridges and riverscapes are another major feature:

Along the riverbank there was welcome dappled shade from many Tulip-trees, while several of the Sycamores where showing a remarkable infestation of Horse-chestnut Scale-insects: …

… and riverside flowers included Himalayan Balsam and Shaggy-soldier (both attracting insects) with another rapidly spreading non-native, Water Bent-grass.

Tumbling down from a higher level in a series of vertiginous locks, we walked along the Kennet & Avon Canal to Widcombe …

… one lock gate in particular being a lovely vertical garden, nicely complementing the village telephone boxes.

Last but not least the Botanic Gardens. Always a delight to visit such places, as much for the insects and other wildlife as for the plants themselves:

… including a single Globe Artichoke attracting the attention of a carder-bee, a Honeybee and a leafcutter-bee, all delving deeply and being liberally coated with pollen.

But then we were off, further west, into Wales…