Glasgow exploring

Oops, slept in. You get that. Got up at 8am, showered and had breakfast. Cereal, croissants, bacon and scrambled eggs, and a bit of black pudding.

Hooned into town and left Mike to wander down to the train station and head to Edinburgh to visit Vivienne. Miss him already.

Then we drove up to Everade Quadrant. There was no answer at no. 28 where Mum grew up, but the women across the road, Alice and Lily (mother and daughter), remembered Mum. We had a cup of tea with them. They were lovely old ladies. Their house was a replica of Mum's.

We talked there for a good wee while, then Mum noticed the lady in no. 28. We walked over and Ma looked through no. 28.

Then we went down the road and met the Pattersons. Mrs Patterson and her son Norman.

We visited Mum's school, Colston school, but it had been pulled down and turned into a lab for water testing.

Next stop was to visit Jackie & Nellie Allan in Barmulloch. They were lovely. We arrived at 2pm and didn't leave until about 6pm.

Mum chatted away like mad. Nellie filled Mum in on a lot of the details about Granddad's family. Nellie and Jackie had 10 children. One had died 4 years previous, but the rest were still around. They ranged in age from about 52 down to 34. Patsy was there, and she is the second youngest.

We were treated really well. It was great to see all these faces and places. The youngest son turned up - Frankie, and he took us to see Hazlitt Street, where Mum's family lived when she was a baby. It had all beeen cleared, wasteland now. Probably awaiting redevelopment in a few years' time. Opposite Ruchill hospital, it was rough or what?!! Phew!

I'm amazed at the close communities people live in here. Everyone knows everyone else and what they're all up to. Considering the timer frame. I couldn't believe all the people that had remaind in Everard Quadrant. Jackie and Nellie have been in their house for 44 years.

Returning from Hazlitt St we dropped off at a pub for a few pints with Frank. He's nice. Works as a psych nurse but is studying at present.

When we wandered back to Dalrymple, he and Karen went out for a beer and I went back with Mum and Robert. I'm sitting writing this watching the dryer spin all our clothes.

Mike will be having a great time. I wish I was there to see him and Vivienne & John with wee Benjamin. Hope they enjoy themselves there. It should be good fun.

Tomorrow looks like a day for a spot of shopping. Then at about 3pm we're off to Loch Lomond. Lochgoilhead to see Aunt Nancy. Great weather again today.

Windemere, Kirkstone Pass, Gretna Green, Coatbridge, Glasgow

9/9/1996 (Monday)

Deidre and Richard rang in to say they'd be late in today. We mucked around getting awaty, but hopped on the M6 pretty quick and we were off.

Hooned up the motorway until we were in Cumbria, and we headed towards Windemere in the Lakes District. Bought some food for a picnic lunch in the supermarket there and drove over Kirkstone Pass. Over the other side we stopped by a lake and had a beautiful lunch. Yummo!

Jumped back in the car and headed for the M6 again. Over the Scottish border and through Gretna Green and on towards Glasgow. Drove through Coatbridge where Robert grew up. Saw his high school (where they nearly burned the town hall down) and his primary school.

When we got out to the estate where his house was, some kids were playing in a burst water main that was shooting water up a good 5 metres. Cheeky wee monkeys. The house Robert was brought up in had been cleared, and a new house had been built on the site.

Drove into Glasgow proper, and parked in Montrose St in a parking building. Found the Tourist Information Bureau and they found us a bed and breakfast in the Halls of Residence at the university of Glasgow (Dalrymple Hall, Great Western Road) for £16 per person.

We headed out there and found our rooms. Good accommodation - twin rooms. We ate at the Stakis Hotel in the restaurant. Nice food.

Hay-on-Wye, Manchester, Bury, Bolton, Ramsbottom, Radcliffe

Up for breakfast downstairs this morning, seated in front of the colonial sytle front windows. Scrambled eggs and bacon, with cornflake starters! But no marmite for the toast.

Another beautiful day. We piled up the stuff in the car, and took off - armed with a 'Touristic Map' of South Wales with instructions on how to get to Hay-on-Wye.

We took a wonderful road through some hills and over a pass. It was wonderful scenery - wind-swept looking though. But it all looked glorious in the sunshine.

Karen wasn't too keen on the driving as it was really a lane she was driving on for a good part of the trip. There wasn't enough space for two cars to pass, so one or the other has to reverse to a wee layby and let the other pass.

We wandered down the other side of the hill to Hey-on-Wye. It was funny seeing the people prepare for a 'tramp' over these hills. There'd be a carpark at the start of the walk, and for most of the walk I don't think you'd lose sight of your car! Yet it was all taken seriously. At least these people were walkign on tracks - many trampers just walk the back lanes. Odd. Happy little trampers, walking along geting buzzed by cars.

Hay-on-Wye was nice. We arrived at about 10:30am and wandered around for a couple of hours. There was a bookshop hidden in the ruins of Hay Castle. And for 50p you could take a photo inside! Yeah, right.

Hay-on-Wye would make a nice place to stop for a couple of days. Just browsing each wee shop.

We had lunch there and then left for Manchester - Bury, Bolton and Ramsbottom.

We skirted around Manchester and hit Bury. Mum had spent some time here as a child. Aunt Nancy and Aunt Rita used to live here. After some confusion Mum couldn't recognise some parts, what with no railway station any more, the shopping road ("The Rock") blocked off and motorways criss-crossing the place.

We found Bolton Road, which is where Mum's house used to be. It is gone now and replaced with a taxi company.

We then headed to Ramsbottom, about 15 min north of Bury. This is where Mum was told Michael Dickinson lived and worked as a driving instructor. We accosted some local in his garden and looked up all the Dickinsons in the phone book. There were heaps (about 20) and no M Dickinsons. Rang a D Dickinson in Ramsbottom but that was no good. Called in at the Police Station, but that was shut. Finally, Mum called Aunt Nancy and she gave us Michael's number. Turns out he had never lived in Ramsbottom, and lived 15 min away in Radcliffe.

We drove down there and met him and his family. Deidre was at home with two of the boys, Andy and Richard. The oldest boy, Matthew, was at a friend's house. We wandered to their local - the Beer Engine [now The Unicorn, 351 Bolton Rd, Radcliffe M26 3QQ] - and had a few drinks. Michael turned uip and it was lovely to see how he and mum greeted each other. Mum and Deidre talked for hours. We then walked back the 5min back to their house and ordered a 'dough bag' which was takeaway Indian food delivered to your door.

Mike and I fell asleep on the lounge room floor (as did Robert on the couch). Everyone else went to bed around 2:30am. We slept until 7:30am with a blanket over us and a beanbag as a pillow. Comfy night's sleep too it was!

Sennen Cove, Lands End, Redruth, Lanjeth, Tintern Abbey, Abergarveny

Woke to beautiful sunny day with birds chirping. Shorts and t-shirt day today. Drove down to Lands End through the Cornish coast road. It was a great wee drive, through narrow lanes, past great looking villages and farmyards. St Just was pretty, and we ate berakfast with goodies from their hot bread shop. Mike said his chocolate eclair was the best he's ever tasted. I shared a vegetable cornish pastie with Karen. Yummy.

At a town called Sennen Cove we headed down to the harbour. From there we walked up to the headland and had a great view of Lands End. Here was a magnificent looking lighthouse on a rocky island quite a wee distance off the point. It would look quite dramatic in stormy conditions.

We then wandered into Redruth in search of Mike's ancestral roots, the house his great-grandmother was raised in - Trepenty, Cornish for farmhouse.

In Redruth, the tourist information centre (well, one of their customers anyway) said to look it up in the Cornish Studies building. So Mike hurtled off. The rest of us wandered up the steep pedestrian road of Redruth's main shopping street and bought some fruit.

Mike turned up again, armed with maps and directions. So, at about 1pm we hooned off to Lanjeth [Trepenty, Lanjeth, PL26 7TN] near St Austell. As you come into Lanjeth, you take the first right turn, down a steepish steet. Follow the road around, until you see a lane off to the left. This has the bridge near the top, and Trepenty is immediately on the left.

We rang the doorbell, and a woman called Yanah Glenn-Hill welcomed us in. She had been in the house for 13 years, and showed us a photo of what it was like then. There were no trees around it at all back then. She took us all around the beautiful gardens, then we had a tour around the house. She said it was orignally two cottages. The last tenants were Mr Hart (born thereabouts) in the left cottage, and Ms Cox in the right. The rent was £7.50 a year for the left cottage, and £5 for the other. The current owners renovated, and the builders found a hidden, walled-up room in the main bedroom. Apparently they found some coloured glass in there, and a gold ring. There would have been stairs giving access to this hidden room, but they no longer existed.

The walls between the original cottage and the rooms behind were 3 feet thick. There was a hole in the lounge that we were told was originally the doorway into the cowshed - the original function of the building. Then Yanah's husband, Capt Mark Glenn-Hill, joined us. We had a cup of tea and some cake with them. Their daughter was a genealogist in London, and we exchanged addresses.

Mum's foot was heaps better, but starting to aggravate her again. We hopped (haha) into the car and drove up to Wales. We looked at an old map, and missed the road to Tintern Abbey, as a new, impressive bridge had gone up over the Severn. We entered Wales, paying £3.50 toll for the bridge.

We drove through Monmouth to Abergarveny to stay the night. We played three awful games of pool and then toddled off to bed.

The people here seem extremely friendly. The food is lovely and the weather great. We are under the impression that we may not be in the UK at all. I'd love to go back and visit Wales again. The castles and Tintern Abbey look great.

From Heathrow to Salisbury, St Ives

6/9/1996

Arrived Heathrow at 5:35am local (daylight savings) time. Wondered about how we'd catch up with Mum, Robert and Karen, and who should be in the queue ahead of us but Karen. After 5 min, Mum called us to the UK queue (which was empty) and we cruised through. Picked up our bags and found the Avis desk. They took us in a courtesy bus to their office. We ended up all piling into a Mitsubishi Space Wagon.

Headed out on the M4, then got off at the Newbury Turnoff. The traffic hoons along at 80-90 mph. Robert described it as car racing. I nearly crashed into the back of a car that had stopped in the middle of the road as I looked at a sign. Slammed all the pedals to the floor! Talented move. The wee engine revved well, but stopped with cm to spare.

We wandered around Salisbury Cathedral, which was an impressive sight, built around 1250AD. Mum couldn't walk too far as her ankles had played up in a big way on the flight over. They were round wee things and she couldn't put any weight on the left one. After Salisbury we checked out Stonehenge from the road. Looked good, but not as imposing as it should be.

Actually, some of that was probably due to the gorgeous day we had for our first day here. Hot enough for shorts and T-shirts. Driving with the sunroof back, windows down,... Hunters on the tape deck! Way cool.

We decided, on the way to Lands End, to head for St Ives instead. Got there around 4ish and found (after a ragged run through the narrow lanes that compromise the city centre) [because of some signage confusion!!] a hotel at the top of the hill on the way to Lands End to stay the night for £12 each.

Mum needed a rest. Robert, Karen, Mike and I wandered into town after four very welcome showers. It was nice to have a shower after all that travelling.

St Ives is a gorgeous wee place. Some of the terrace houses were selling for £90k to £200k, not bad at all.

Robert took a Cornish Pastie back to mum for dinner. Karen, Mike and I had a meal at an Indian restaurant.

Back home at 9:20pm. Everybody is asleep! Me too!

Wellington to Heathrow

I recently found the diary I kept of our first UK trip, with my parents and with Karen, in September 1996. With being locked down with COVID-19 and all, Mike went through and typed it all in (with more than a few queries about my handwriting!).

Finished packing the night before. Caught Ansett flight from Wellington to Auckland. Mike was bored and wanted to know, "are we there yet?" even as we were still climbing out of wellington.

We arrived in Auckland at midday and walked over to the International Lounge (follow the blue line) that takes 8 minutes (900m).

We checked in to the Singapore Airlines counter. Got our packs into plastic bags again. Left Auckland at 2:15pm for the 10 hour journey to Changi Airport, Singapore. The food was great. Roast meat and vegetables, perfectly done. The plane was cool. A 747-400 and everyone had a personal TV screen with about 30 channels to choose from.

We arrived in Changi Airport and crossed the Sky Bridge. The airport was spanking new - although that may not actually be the case. It was impressively well looked after. We hopped on a travelator and walked through the shopping area of the Transit lounge. Our packs were going straight through and we had from 8:30pm to 11:15pm to wander around.

Mike bought a new watch and a rechargable battery for his Discman. We then boarded the flight to London.

We sat next to some man called Malcolm that sat on the Melbourne City Council. And boy could he talk.

This leg was 12 hours long. The food wasn't quite as nice on this part, but was still pretty good. The stewardess spilt wine on me though - but hey! you get that.

I slept reasonably well, about 3 hours, and later another 3 hours.

Broken River 1995

By Marilyn Duffy - From WTMC Journal 1995.

Saturday 5 August
Wet, cold morning in Wellington.  Met team at airport, assembled impressive pile of luggage, flew to Christchurch with most of it.  Wet and cold there too - skifields all closed, so no rush.  Mike's boots and Angela's sleeping bag off to Queenstown, van driver nearly arrested by airport security staff for taking liberties with parking zones, headed off to Riccarton to borrow a sleeping bag, buy food and liquids - heard porter hights was opening - off to Gnomes of Darfield to hire boots and better chains.  To Porter Heights for lunch and skiing in the clouds.  Lovely snow, would have loved to see where I skied!

Saturday evening
To Arthur's Pass Youth Hostel, group melding and mellowing over dinner followed by a walk to explore the village; humour spot when our fearless leader harassed a possum found minding its own business by the road - poor scared beast retaliated and tried to climb the nearest tall object, ie Roger, who showed amazing agility when under threat - turned out the possum was the local police officer's pet.

Sunday 6th
A chilly start - Tod wanted to see snow on the trees, and he did - about 20cm of it on the entire landscape all the way to Broken River turnoff.  A chain mishap en route left us with three useful chains, and one of them suspect, heavily laden rent-a-dent struggled on the access road, so we abandoned ship and walked the last kilometre or so.  Felt a little sorry for the unknown punters who did likewise, and trudged  heavily laden up the road for 20 minutes to discover they were at the wrong skifield!

Broken River here we come.  Untold gratitude to the instigators, designers, and builders of the inclinator which carried our gear up the hill and made the final drudge up to the lodge tolerable.  A quick lunch then off to ski!  Yet another trudge to the ski shed and access tow, and that horror of horrors, the nutcracker - after several very nervous false starts a kind local named 'Whale' deftly clipped the first timers on and we made it to the skifield.

Caught glimpses of old hands Sue, Roger, Allan and Jan by now enjoying Broken River snow.  What snow it was: knee deep powder such as seldom seen in the North Island.  Very difficult to ski down, even harder to get back up the run.  Those pulleys on the nutcracker proved highly intimidating, I wondered why I had come.  A whole week to go, I'd better learn to cope or it would be a long week, I told myself.  Everyone else could do it.  At least falling didn't hurt.

Sunday evening and another trudge to the van and back to retrieve more gear and some of the liquid substances purchased in Christchurch.  A meal and some liquid cheered everyone up.

After dinner a formal welcome and introduction to the staff, plus the do's and dont's of Broken River life.  Met 'Joe' the Scottish snowboard instructor and 'Jason' the Canadian ski instructor.  Sorted ourselves into lesson groups, I was once a level 3 going on 4, but that was on groomed snow a million miles away.  Decided to be a 2 going on 1 for first lesson - good call.

Monday 7th
Sue's soon-to-be-famous porridge started the day.  A beautiful bright, clear, calm morning, back to do battle with the nutcracker and THAT snow - lesson proved helpful and actually learned to turn AND keep skis on - a good start to the week.  Managed to keep up with some other Tongue and Meats for a while; forgot to pace myself and should have stopped at 3 instead of 5pm - having too much fun to stop - staggered back to the lodge thoroughly exhausted but much happier; discovered the sauna.  Bliss!

Tuesday 8th
Snowing and windy, no skiing today (aching thighs were grateful).  Know I should have worked more on fitness.  A day of resting, reading, cards, eating and socialising - didn't even go outside.  Ski tuning session in the evening in lieu of lessons.

Wednesday 9th
Still snowing but looking more hopeful; went up late and skied. Lesson was an 'all in' fun session - everyone thoroughly covered in snow - snowed most of the afternoon, but not too cold for fun.  Average of three skiers out most of the time.  Games night at Linden Lodge; Roger and Kara revealed hidden talents and won some points.  Bribery and corruption failed us; we lost, but had a lot of fun doing so.

Thursday 10th
Perfect day, photos at sunrise, more porridge, then off to ski awesome fresh untracked snow.  A day for fun and more photos.  Wanted to photograph own tracks but couldn't stop skiing (or turn) to get camera.  Lesson on the baby tow today for my group; using gates certainly showed up the flaws, and great fun.  A group excursion to the top for photos and to watch the sun go down.  A superb clear, calm evening with a full moon for a bonus - perfect conditions for night skiing.  At 6:30 a quick stop for an excellent barbecue prepared by the hardworking skifield staff, then back to ski, and ski, and ski.  Went in at 8:30 for coffee and came out to find the tow had stopped; only three tired skiers left by then.  My first experience of night skiing, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  I'm sure I ski better in the dark!  Others kindly agreed with me.

Friday 11th already
Not much week left.  Learned it is not called a snow plough, it is a Power Wedge and it is OK.  The words carrrrve, carrrve, carrrve etched into my brain (that is Canadian for edging); by now some impressive moguls to ski around; experienced Roger's unique version of ski instructing, and ALMOST mastered the 'backwards uphill snowplough'.  Another magic day - staggered down to the lodge in twilight again.

Saturday 12th
Last ski at Broken River - why do holiday weeks fly by so fast?  Crowds of visitors today; at least 50 more skiers crowding the slopes; had to wait twice to get on the tow.  Even had to find my tow ticket; poor man laughed when he saw it, mangled specimen it was by then, victim (like me) of many dunkings in the snow.

Last back to the lodge to complete the dreaded final pack-up and trudge down to the van.  Opted to ski down.  Should have realised when the old hands walked down that it wouldn't be a clever idea.  "Power Wedging" down a narrow trail of very firm snow proved tough on skied out muscles and not as much fun as it looked.  A subdued group dug the van out and loaded gear on board, most of it anyway.  This time Allan's boots had vanished.

Saturday night, drove to Flock Hill, cosy bunkrooms, and some serious eating and drinking.

Sunday 13th
Another chilly start - loaded up again - then off to Porter Heights (by popular demand) to see what we had skied a whole week earlier.  It was not to be.  The rent-a-dent expired, and most of us spent the day sitting amongst the tussock by the road waiting for our replacement vehicle, alternately eating, wandering, chatting, studying and playing cricket in the sun.  Some went skiing, courtesy of Porter Heights staff.  Help finally arrived and thanks to some skilful piloting by Captain Bolam, we made it to Springfield and a new van.  Back to civilisation and the airport in time to check in and make a quick trip to Cathedral Square before winging back to Wellington.

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The agenda said 'Monday 8:30 back to work, still buzzing and ready for work'; a quick phone around some of the punters revealed work was far from anyone's mind.

What an amazing week!  Plenty of snow, good weather (only 1 whole day and 2 part days lost due to the weather, out of a potential 9 days).  Long hours of skiing, a lively group of punters, interesting locals, cheerful, hardworking skifield staff taking excellent care of us; all the ingredients of a wonderful 9 days.  May there be many more Broken River trips.

WT&MC has had a long association with Broken River Ski Club and it proved to be a popular decision to arrange another trip.  The punters were: Sue Webb (a perennial BR skier from Auckland), Tod Rutter (a natural at snowboarding), Allan MacLachlan (Club President and 2nd timer), Kara Mulvein (all the way from the UK to sample life on a club field), Jan Goodwin (been there often, classy skier, and now snowboarder), Sarah Higgins (skied like we all wished we could), Mike Gilbert (skied since a baby, working on snowboarding), Angela Emmerson (another convert to snowboarding), Marilyn Duffy (scribe and first timer to Broken River) and last but not least, our hardworking leader Roger Bolam, whose wit and wisdom kept us all on our toes - we may have to go back to perfect that uphill snowplough!