The bad news is this will no doubt be great for the garden, meaning I'll have to cut the grass again very soon. I haven't done it in weeks as it has hardly grown at all, and if I had mown it, judging by the results my keener neighbours have achieved, it would have all turned very yellow and looked rather barren.
It'll also be really bad news for quite a few motorists I daresay too, there is always a spate of accidents when it rains after a long dry spell as the roads turn slick with the oil and rubber that has formed on the surface being lubricated nicely. It'll take a good deal of rain to rinse all that away and give good wet weather grip again.
Anyway, on with the Bimbles. Two to catch up on, the first just being a very pleasurable chooch around my local wood once again.
This was last Wednesday, and perfect weather for woodland riding, or rather, photography, as it was quite cloudy with little sign of the sun for a change.
This particular spot is always teeming with birds having a look around, planning their day or just catching up on the gossip, but true to form, as soon as I got the camera out to capture them against the grey sky, most of 'em beggared off pronto.
The last time I was here it was to gawp at the Bluebells I think. Seems like only yesterday too. Well they're long gone but in their place are great gangly Rosebay Willowherbs lolling about all over the shop.
Fungi on an old stump.
I'm fascinated by Fungi I must admit, but not so much as to try and ID each individual piece I find. That is quite some task and I have enough trouble with remembering wild flowers let alone trying to fathom out the strange ways of the Fungus.
Foliage/small furry animals/Rambler's children etc caught up in bits of the bike are always a sign of some fun being had. In this case having to bust my way through on one of the lesser used paths on my way up to the uppermost track along the edge of the wood.
Time spent in the woods is never time wasted, and I was reveling in the dry conditions - the driest I've ever found these woods in fact. It was also unusually quiet - there are normally quite a few dog walkers around but I seemingly had the woods to myself on this day.
Dull days are best for photography in woodland, too much harsh contrast going on when the sun is out and high in the sky otherwise, so all in all, it was proving to be a very relaxing and enjoyable ride. Not a breath of wind and almost complete silence to listen to, just the occasional Crow or Magpie having a squawk to break the hush.
Random hint of colour in an otherwise very green landscape.
Less of a hint, and more of a searing blast of in your face yellow.
The top track does emerge from under tree cover briefly into an area cleared and now replanted by the Forestry Commission boys. Out here the path gets very overgrown at this time of year making for some bar end tugging pushing on through the bushes.
All good fun even at or below walking pace!
Here was a shot that didn't come off as intended, as the old boy (me) is slightly too blurred and of course, the reflective strip on the saddlebag has picked up the flash. It's not a very interesting foreground either. One of those shots that looked better in prospect than actually resulted.
This hill is steeper than it looks, and most of the time is muddy, making for a bum clenching descent often as I try not to lock Fatso's wheels up and go sledging instead of biking. After the weather we've had though life on the brakes is a lot easier.
Now this was a surprise to me, as I normally associate this sort of Fungi with damp and humid conditions. I would've thought our recent weather wasn't at all ideal for such growth, but there were a few of these dotted along the side of the path in one area of the wood, most though in various states of disrepair, having been nibbled by something, or just plain broken or trodden on.
The answer to the growth may well lie in those dead leaves though, maybe they provide or preserve the damp conditions enough to enable these things to grow.
I'll just leave Fatso here a mo while I set up a...
... Riding shot. I've been taking a lot of such shots from behind lately, although there's no real reason for it.
See, here's another. These last couple look fuzzy to me... Damn it!
Last shot of the day and some garden over spill on the bridge at Lanner Mill.
Somewhere that morning I successfully mislaid several hours, setting off at about ten am, it was a while later when I looked at my watch expecting it to be about half twelve and instead found it nearer two o'clock. Normally I have a reasonably accurate idea of passing time (all those years spent driving buses and being timed everywhere...) but every now and again I get so immersed in my surroundings, and the moment, that I lose all track of passing time. It is a great state to be in I find, true peace, enjoyment and relaxation.
A few weeks ago I had a big old ride on the Jamis over to Portloe and Veryan, but I must admit to not feeling quite right throughout the whole ride. I wasn't on best form by any means and in retrospect, it might've been better leaving the ride for another day but I'd plugged on with it, but didn't really do it justice. Well Veryan in particular.
Veryan is a very smart village, quite posh as it happens - they get out of the bath to have a pee round there, and have fruit on the sideboard even though nobody is ill. Not my sort of people at all then. But there is quite a bit of interest for the traveler there to pore over and ponder, and I had intended to have a good look around on my ride. But having snapped away at the rather splendid Lychgate and coffin rest at the church, I decided I just wasn't in the mood and had best head for home, vowing to return at some point to have a proper look around as there are one or two features I still wanted to gawp at.
That point came last Saturday, and so once again I found myself heading out very early into the start of another long hot sunny day.
I'm a heller for a sunrise photo...
Velo de jour was once again the Marin.
Leaving my home port of Trispen and looking across the valley towards Resugga Farm as the sun burns away overnight mist.
On the top of the hill on the lane from Four Turnings to Riverside, and looking across at...
The sun once again.
Still some mist lurking in places on the road however.
I don't normally like laying a bike down, especially my 'best' bike, but sometimes it just won't look right propped up on my folding walking stick in a photo. Here I thought it was better off low down and levelish with the surrounding vegetation.
When doing this though, it's important to make sure the lids on water bottles are screwed on tight to avoid an 'orrible sticky mess gathering on one's frame. I've been there, done that, bought the 'orrible sticky T-Shirt.
Daft as it may seem, I had a real 'wow!' moment here as I reached the summit of the gurn inducing slog up the tree lined sunken lane from Riverside.
I've photographed these very same trees before in Winter, but on this day the sun coming through highlighting the gap in the trees, and with the mist still lurking, it all looked rather magical.
You'd think then that I'd make sure I did the scene proper photographic justice, and fetch the tripod out to allow for a low ISO and shutter speed, but no... I already had the feeling of having spent too much time dicking about with the camera, so instead went for a high ISO on the compact camera, which would inevitably make for a slightly noisy image, but would also allow a hand held snap. Oh well there's always a next time isn't there...
As I say, I wanted to take maximum advantage of the early start, not just because it's all very striking and pretty, but also for practical reasons. Rather than fanny about on the hilly back lanes between Probus and Tregony, I wanted to take the faster and more level main road, not just to Tregony, but beyond as well. This road is fast and twisty, a real footrest scraping bend swinger on a motorbike, or rear seat passenger vomit inducing side to side lurchfest in a car. Traffic gets a scoot on along there but it's non too wide and when busy, just not so nice to ride.
Also Veryan Church was hosting a wedding on Saturday, although what time the sentencing... erm...the ceremony would commence wasn't mentioned on the web site, and I wanted to be all done and dusted before people started arriving to prepare (I hope someone removed the alarmingly large dog poop from the main path up to the front door for a start).
So I gave the Marin a good boot along the road to Tregony and thankfully all was quiet. I did have to bail out on the climb out of Tregony though, that's a steep beggar that is, narrow too, with little wobble room when being passed by traffic not wanting to slow down on the hill.
There was traffic about mind you, but mostly going the other way, and usually some honking great 4x4 towing a caravan, or an oversized for comfortable lane navigation motorhome making an early start for their journey home. Or maybe away, who knows.
Anyway, I only had a couple of miles on the main road to do after Tregony before I turned off and back onto narrow lanes once more.
Not even eight in the morning yet but already there was plenty of heat in the day.
Slightly wonky way marker stone not far from Veryan.
Finally I reached Veryan Green, a sort of extension of Veryan, and one of the reasons (or should that be two) I wanted to come back - one of two pairs of Round Houses that guard the entry to the village on each side. If you want to see inside the house on the left, which has been extended, then it's for sale and can be nosed at HERE.
These houses were built by the local landowner and vicar Jeremiah Trist between 1815 and 1818. As said, there is a pair at each end of the village plus a fourth such house, although one with a tiled rather than thatched roof, in the centre of the village.
Legend has it the houses were built for the vicar's daughters, and were round so the Devil couldn't hide in a corner. Surely though he could hide behind the sofa ready to pounce as his victim settled down for the evening... That's what I would do anyway.
Never mind the Devil, I bet these houses are a beggar for Spiders - nowhere at all for them to set up shop. I bet they spend the Autumn tromping round and round the walls, meeting each other coming the other way - 'found anything yet mate?' 'Nah Nigel, can't find a corner anywhere, what nitwit built this place anyway?'
The crosses on the roofs were also placed to stop Old Nick from entering the village, but this vicary chap just didn't think properly. Surely, the Devil being the mischievous sort we all know him to be, he wouldn't arrive in a settlement to do his dirty Devily deeds by road (and how would he arrive anyway? In a carriage? On horseback? If today he'd definitely travel in a Volvo, I've always said those cars - Swedish killing machines, are the work of the Devil). No, he'd sneak sneakily in a devlishly Devil like way across the fields, behind trees and hedges surely, not come trundling along the road. Clearly the Devil Dodging Jeremiah didn't think it through...
Just down from the guarding Round Houses is the Green that gives this part of the village its Veryan Green name, and a more conventional collection of houses. Nice new bit of thatch been done there too by the look of it.
Drop down the hill from Veryan Green, past the large gates to some big house or other, and you arrive in Veryan beside the rather splendid village pond.
For me, this pond really is the best feature of the village. Beautifully tended (no empty cans or old car tyres floating in the water here) and the banks stocked with a variety of flowers, it is a great space for the locals and visitors to spend some time relaxing.
It is very obvious that the locals take considerable pride in, and care of, their village. All around is very neat and well kept, and is a credit to them.
Now, the pond is right next to St Symphorian's Church, and within the grounds of the church lies another reason for my making a return visit. Not the coffin rest, did that last time, no, I wanted to have a look at a particular grave, the grave of some German sailors lost in a shipwreck.
I have a slight interest in the history of the shipwrecks around the coast of the county, indeed above my desk is a map with the locations of all known wrecks and their dates and it is quite incredible just how much shipping has floundered, and how many lives have been lost. The waters around Cornwall are extremely treacherous that's for sure.
The grave I was interested in seeing contains those lost on the first of February 1914, when the German Barque The Hera, on route from Chile and heading for Falmouth, struck Gull Rock in thick fog and was wrecked.
Of the twenty four crew, nineteen lost their lives leaving just five survivors. Of the dead, the Captain's body was returned to Germany, while three bodies were never found. The remaining fifteen dead were buried in the church yard at Veryan, in a rather unusual manner.
Shipwrecks as I say, were a common occurrence around these shores, and even to this day ships still come to grief around the county. But in the past, those churches nearest the wrecks would obviously be where the dead were buried, and that meant digging some large graves. Usually this would involve digging a large pit and burying the dead side by side and maybe even on top of each other.
Mass grave in St Keverne Churchyard for those lost on the SS Mohegan in 1898. That's some hole they've dug there too, armed as they were back then, just with shovels. (The shovel though, what a groundbreaking idea that was...)
Here in Veryan though, for The Hera's victims, the grave diggers employed another method:
Yes, the fifteen dead were buried head to toe, in a grave said to be the longest in Britain at 98 feet long, or about 30 metres for those who prefer digital. Quite why this was done I don't know, maybe the grave diggers were paid by the foot length ways and saw an opportunity to make a few bob...
It's not often a stone mason would get to use ditto marks on a headstone that's for sure.
Donkeyman was apparently a ship's engineer. Some say the term was given to someone responsible for all things mechanical on board except the engine, while others say it was a term used for the man who fettled everything aboard.
Some of the fifteen dead interred here are marked individually, such as one of the ship's boys above.
Finding the grave was easy enough, as it is visible on Google Earth Satellite images.
More information on the wrecking of The Hera along with photos from the time can be found HERE and again HERE - the second of these two having better photos.
It still being early, I had a bit of a look around the rest of the churchyard as there was no sign of any dotty old bats arriving to start preparing the church for the day's wedding. These characters are usually formidable women who are unlikely to tolerate anything untoward in their churchyard while they're trying to prepare things. A Chimney Sweep is said to be a good thing at a wedding, bringing good luck. A scruffy old bloke pushing a bike about is only likely to bring a slightly clammy and sweaty feel to proceedings.
The area must've always had a decent level of opulence if some of the gravestones and monuments are anything to go by. Many are quite large and ornate, and must've proved quite a task to set in place back in the day. Churchyards though are always poignant yet peaceful places to linger, especially on such a lovely morning as I had here.
The finger is presumably pointing the dead towards Heaven. I'd have pointed it downwards myself in a 'he's down there' kind of gesture...
Getting some of these headstones to the church probably involved a horse drawn cart as far as possible, thereafter perhaps some system of rollers placed beneath, and hauled up on ropes before being erected in place. That Celtic Cross on the left is a particularly substantial piece for a start, you wouldn't want it to drop on your toes that's for certain.
St Symphorian's Churchyard, Veryan.
It's not hard to spot the more modern and more modest gravestones.
Outside the church is the war memorial, and opposite that is yet another interesting feature - The Well of St Symphorian, which dates back to the thirteenth century and was restored in 1912 and just as on my last visit, is partially (this time) obstructed by a parked car.
This is one area I feel where the village lets itself down. Everywhere else is so well tended, but not so the well, which is tightly fenced in, covered in weeds and generally has a neglected feel about it. Some well placed bollards to stop cars parking right up to the railings wouldn't go amiss, then interested people could at least stand and face it to have a proper look. At least on this occasion it was only one car, on my last visit there were two making it impossible to get close enough to read the plaque at the base of the cross.
Just to the South of the village centre are the other two Round Houses. I believe the one on the left to be a holiday let, but I'm not definite on that.
Mission complete I headed out of Veryan, briefly up the main Tregony-St Mawes road again and turned off at Ruan High Lanes heading for Ruan Lanihorne, then onward past Lamorran and st Michael Penkivel to Tresillian and home.
Passing through Lamorran Wood.
That tree was busted when I got there, honest. Nothin' to do with me at all...
I'm going for that tree being the victim of a lightning strike rather than a heavy gust of wind like it's foreground neighbour, the rootball of which is sticking up just in front of the camera. There has been some serious felling gone on at this spot in the past, but they left those odd trees standing for whatever reason, exposing them fully to the elements.
The morning had once again become very hot and sunny, and despite drinking a lot and also eating a bit too, I started to get very weary legs as I drew near Tresillian. I hate that, I really do. All the hill climbing power just disappears and my legs don't even have enough in them to accelerate nicely. Performance just seems to suddenly drop off a cliff. I'm not sure why this was the case on this day, it might be the Marin's 1 x 10 gearing making for bigger jumps between the gears and so requiring a little more effort at times, compared to the other bike I used for longer road rides, the 3 x 8 Jamis. It might've been the weather, but whatever it was, I was struggling towards the end of the ride. Not enough to take the shortest routes home though, as either of them involve a long uphill slog, so I still took the slightly further but flatter route right around my home village before coming in from the north.
In all, my bike computer said 30 miles and a couple of tenths, the mapping site 28 miles I think it is. That difference could well be explained by making a few runs past the camera for ride by shots.
Whatever, it was a good old ride around, it's just annoying I flagged at the end. I perhaps just need to just do more rides of that length on the Marin to build up my leg muscles a bit.
Veryan though is a treat of a village for the nosy to poke around. A charmingly attractive village with plenty to hold the interest of the visitor, and I'm glad I made the effort to go back when in reality, it is well out of my way and takes a bit of getting at.
Now then, my usual mapping site is a bit tired and emotional today, throwing hissy fits every time I try to draw a map on it, so I've used another site instead. Click on that map above to see it big enough to make out place names or click HERE to go to the full site.
Well, my shopping has been delivered - how is it whenever you do the shopping you have a kitchen full of food but when you're hungry, nothing to eat? But it has stopped raining and all sign of wetness is already long gone, burned off by the sun once again. So it's business as normal once again outside, but a little cooler it must be said.
Having had lunch it'd be unwise to head out on a bike now so instead I'm plotting another ride for tomorrow, again on the Marin with a bit of luck.
So until next time, happy bimbling!
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