28 February 2019

Nashville (Nov 2018)

Our first destination on leaving Asheville was Affordable RV Repairs, Old Brickyard Rd. Fletcher NC. Considering how difficult it had been to find anyone to even look at Gregory's failings we didn't have to wait terribly long before a mechanic was on the job. The diagnoses were:
  1. The older of our two house batteries had failed, and when you connect two batteries the pair acts as if they were both the same strength as the weaker one. All it needed was a new battery, but, alas, they did not have one to hand.
  2. The problem with the headlights was blamed on the switch, but to get a new switch we would have to go to a Ford dealer.
The personnel at Affordable RV Repairs were very friendly, and we were not charged for the investigation, which was a pleasant surprise. On the downside, nothing had actually been fixed.

We headed once again for the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. The road was quite busy and the traffic slowed to a crawl, and then a stop. Was it road works? Or an accident? We inched along and eventually spied pedestrians up ahead. Many of them had cameras. Wildlife? One of the sightseers walked past us and confirmed that there was a herd of elk beside the road. Actually, he said “Herd of ay-ulk,” but we managed to decode his accent. We did see a few of them, but chose not to add to the traffic congestion by stopping on the highway. It was only after we left them behind that we realised we had not photographed the ay-ulk. Sorry.

More autumn/fall colours in Great Smokey Mountains NP.
And yet more.

The National Park straddles the border between North Carolina and Tennessee. As the traveller departs from the mountains on the Tennessee side the road takes you through Pigeon Forge. As if the name were not entertaining enough, it is the site of Dollywood, a theme park partly owned by country singer, Dolly Parton. Ms Parton's famous image cements the connection.

We drove a little further to Maryville, where there is a Walmart.

What to do about our sickly battery and non-performing headlights was a worry. In the morning we spotted an establishment just down the hill from the Walmart parking lot, called Auto Excellence. There was a Ford logo on the wall, although it didn't look like an authorised dealership. There was nothing to lose by asking, so we walked into the office and explained our problems. “We can't start on it straight away. Can you wait for a couple of hours?” We certainly could, when other outfits had quoted weeks.

The mechanic had worked for Ford for 23 years. He knew about our vehicle. The battery diagnosis was confirmed and they had a battery on hand. He doubted that the headlights would be fixed with a new switch. After rummaging behind the dashboard he produced a device. “Here's your problem. This has been overheating. See?” Apparently the connection sockets were discoloured or something. Bill tried to look as though he understood. The important thing was that a new device was conjured up from somewhere and fitted. A very reasonable bill was presented and paid. We flicked the headlights between dip and full beam and they stayed on. What a relief!

There wasn't much left of the day, but we carried on to Sparta and another Walmart.

A sun dog is an atmospheric optical phenomenon that consists of a bright spot to one or both sides of the Sun within a 22° halo. The dog is the brightness to the left with a bit of rainbow colouring. There was a partner dog on the other side of the Sun, but it was difficult to see.
It's not often you can take a picture looking directly at the Sun. An artistic skyscape, don't you agree?

That night the battery ran down again. Oh no. In the morning we tried turning up at an RV specialist without an appointment. They were booked solid for weeks “winterizing” vehicles. Google located a truck repair business not far away, so we telephoned. Yes, they could fit us in. We had to park amongst trucks and buses all morning, but it was fixed in 15 minutes. One of the cables to the new battery must have been loose because it had become detached. Reconnect – tighten – done! There was a minimum charge, which meant they earned about $500 per hour, but this time the repair was permanent. We have had no trouble with the batteries since then.

The Tennessee Walmarts seemed to have a policy of permitting us to stay for up to 24 hours, so we stayed at one near Nashville them moved on to a closer location in the morning. “May we park here overnight?” “Yes, you are welcome to stay for 24 hours.” Great. And we would like to advertise that the staff we spoke to in both Nashville locations were particularly happy and friendly people.

We used Uber to get in and out of the city centre. Our morning driver was very helpful with suggestions of things to see and do, and reassured us that the central area was safe. We found a sightseeing pass that included entry to 4 of Nashville's attractions.

A hop-on hop-off bus tour counted as one “attraction”, but first we went to the Ryman Auditorium. The building started life as a church, but has become Nashville's premier venue for country music. Apparently the acoustics are particularly good. There were preparations going on for a performance that evening, but it was sold out. The history of the building and some of the individuals associated with it was fascinating. It is still closely associated with the Grand Ole Opry, a weekly country music radio show, that was broadcast from “The Ryman” from 1943 to 1974. Since 1999 it has returned to the Ryman for all of its November, December, and January shows.

We rode the bus around its entire loop without getting off. There are a LOT of places in Nashville associated with musicians, recording and the music industry generally.

The Parthenon in Centennial Park, in Nashville, Tennessee, is a full-scale replica of the original Parthenon in Athens. It was designed by Confederate veteran William Crawford Smith and built in 1897 as part of the Tennessee Centennial Exposition.
The AT&T Building; tallest in Tennessee.

The Uber driver had particularly recommended the Country Music Hall of Fame. We echo his endorsement. It is a wonderfully presented history of country music. Nearly all of it was new to Bill, who is quite knowledgeable about jazz, but has little interest in other music genres. He is not exactly a convert to country music, but he enjoyed this visit very much.

For the last use of our pass we visited the Johnny Cash Museum and learned even more about “The Man in Black”.

We optimistically returned to The Ryman at 5:30 when performers' tickets and any cancellations are offered for sale. The queue was already a long one so we didn't join it.

The Internet contains many claims that Nashville offers free live music 24/7 throughout the year. This is being a teeny bit economical with the truth. There are many bars on Broadway where the visitor does not pay separately for the music, but the bands are not paid by the bar so they brazenly solicit “tips” and the bars charge well over the odds for beer.

There are quite a few of these “pedal taverns” in Nashville. But whoever heard of a tavern that does not sell alcohol? You have to pay for the hire of the vehicle, pedal it yourself and bring your own booze. Nonetheless these young ladies were evidently enjoying the experience.
The pump is part of the “tavern” but it is not connected to anything unless you bring your own keg.

With many other visitors we thronged Broadway looking for some live music. In the city that is the heart of country music most of the bands were playing rock. Listen up, Nashville. This is not good enough.

Eventually we found a bar that promised country music, but it was between sets and the new band was setting up. An employee at the door suggested an affordable eating house across the way. We would have to queue, but the line generally moved quite quickly.

Well fed, we re-crossed Broadway and entered the bar. It was busy, but we were lucky enough to get a table for two. We paid $6.50 for a small draft beer in a plastic cup and contributed some paper money when the band passed round the hat, and so we did get to listen to live country music in Nashville.

The Uber driver who took us back to our vehicle was initially very grumpy. When he accepted the request he immediately sent a message “I am here”, but all we could see was a long line of headlights. How do you identify an Uber car in the dark when you cannot even see its colour until it has arrived? We did not understand all of his complaint. Perhaps he used features of the Uber system we don't know about. Happily he thawed out during the journey.

19 February 2019

Chattanooga to Asheville (Oct 2018)

While planning our trip Bill came across the web site of the Bessie Smith Cultural Center in Chattanooga. The city's name has a pleasing ring to it, made famous in the Chattanooga Choo Choo song. Bill is very fond of jazz so he knows the song well. The Cultural Center looked to be a good place to gain an insight on to the history of African Americans.

Chattanooga isn't a vast conurbation, but we still elected to avoid driving in the city centre. The Walmart in Signal Hill was handy to the city and getting there did not require us to drive in very heavy traffic. The store happily gave us permission to occupy their parking lot for up to 24 hours. Thank you once more, Walmart.

Friday, 26 October 2018 was chilly and wet in Chattanooga. Uber took us to the back of the Cultural Center for some reason, but it isn't a large building to walk around. The inside of the Center was a little disappointing. There were many stories of African Americans who had risen to importance in their field; school principals, local politicians, successful businessmen, entertainers, etc. We decided that we felt let down because there was very little about the days of slavery, segregation and Jim Crow laws. Maybe our expectations were unreasonable, since most visitors would presumably already have known about these abuses.

There was a very good display about the transatlantic slave trade. We had had no idea how many people had been transported. We had known that it was not uncommon for slaves to die on the way, but the mortality statistics were truly shocking.

Another little frustration was that the audio system was broken and we were denied the usual samples of black Chattanoogans' music. Bessie Smith, of course, was a local singer who achieved international fame, but she was by no means the only African American in the region to make good music.

Our Uber driver back to Signal Hill was not wearing his seat belt. We didn't like to say, but we both theorised that it was not long enough to fit round him. He was a huge man. Isn't it terrible that the first thing we noticed was his size? He was cheerful and made good conversation all the way back to our vehicle. His main job was driving a truck at night and driving for Uber was a secondary occupation. He must be one of those unusual people who do not need much sleep because he was perfectly alert and drove well. He had relatives in Panama City, which had recently been hit by a hurricane and was planning to drive down that night with his wife, his children and supplies for the stricken. “It's only a 7 hour drive.”

For us there was a 2 hour drive to Murphy NC and another Walmart parking lot.

The next day we were expected by John and Susan Mycroft in Asheville. The quickest route would have taken only half the day to drive, so we determined to seek out a more interesting option.

The most direct route was attractive as well as rapid. The highway goes through the Nantahala National Forest, and much of it is beside the Nantahala River.

The River

Autumn leaves in North Carolina
More seasonal colours.
Fall foliage across the river.

At Cherokee township we turned left and drove into the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. We found a picnic area at a convenient time for lunch, but did not use the picnic tables provided. It was sufficiently cold and wet to make the interior of the vehicle more appealing. One hardy couple did sit in the drizzle, though.

Driving into the Great Smokies.
Mist in the mountains.

The Blue Ridge Parkway starts just outside the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and passes very close to John and Susan's home in Asheville. A parkway will be slower but more scenic. Great. Except that there are a few short tunnels along the parkway. We made it through the first two, but the headroom in the third made it a very doubtful proposition. So we turned around. The cars behind us had a good view and were able to pull up gently in good time. No vehicles emerged from the tunnel as we made our hurried 5-point turn, so no emergency stops were required of anyone.

In Cherokee township we had noticed a Museum of the Cherokee Indian. “Let's learn about the Cherokees” we decided. It is an excellent museum. The visitor is first of all regaled with a couple of traditional stories. The exhibits then take you through the way of life of the pre-European Cherokees, contact with the Europeans (initially as traders) and finally to the forced relocation of the tribe from their ancestral home to a reservation in Oklahoma, known as the Trail of Tears. A very few families managed to stay in the Appalachians and their descendants still live in and around Cherokee.

Many tribes were similarly relocated. You can read the Wikipedia article about it here.

The Museum of the Cherokee Indian

We still fetched up at John and Susan's house at a reasonable hour and were spoilt rotten for the next few days. They are friends of Bill's from his days in Auckland. After a while, though, American-born Susan wanted to return to the USA and UK-born John was granted residence. Their home is well away from the Asheville CBD, on what we would call a bush section. The birds are encouraged into sight by the offerings from two feeders, one of which has been re-modelled by a bear, which pulled it down to get at the peanuts. The feeders are now taken in each night. We did not see any bears.

Carolina Chickadees on the feeder and in the air.

A Tufted Titmouse.

Another Tufted Titmouse. As has been mentioned elsewhere, the naming of birds and animals should not be left to an ignorant general public. This is clearly a bird and not a mouse. ;-)

In between our hosts' work; Susan in an accountant's office and John at a polling station for the mid-term elections; they showed us a lot of Asheville, including Biltmore Village, French Broad River and some of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the other side of the too-small tunnel.

Walnut Cove

From an overlook on the parkway. Buck Springs Gap, we think.

Autumn colours along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

In the days before arriving in Asheville our motor home's house batteries had been running out of power during the night, which they should not do. The headlights still hadn't been fixed after the hair-raising journey near Washington. We researched Ford servicing in Asheville and drew a blank. They were booked up for weeks ahead. Finally we found an independent mechanic not too far away who works only on RVs and who agreed to have a look.

Before we departed John and Susan invited us to return and spend Thanksgiving with them. This is an important holiday in America, and the traditional time for families to get together. It was therefore a particularly kind invitation.

We bid them goodbye and set off to see the RV mechanic.

12 February 2019

A Sampling of the Appalachians (Oct 2018)

We are way behind with this blog. The events described here took place in late October 2018.

As noted in the last post, we headed for the Shenandoah National Park after Washington. Our plan was to visit a few different states, particularly driving along the scenic routes marked on our maps. Most of the pictures we took in this period were from “overlooks” where there is space to safely pull off the road and a pleasant view. Many of them are panoramas, but in some places the trees have grown back and hidden the vista.

Shenandoah National Park is a long, thin piece of public land in the state of Virginia. It is traversed lengthwise by the Skyline Drive, a delightful road with many attractive places to stop.

One of the views from Skyline Drive
A morsel of the drive itself
New England isn't the only place in America where the trees put on pleasing autumn colours.

The park does have trails for all levels of dedication, and we went with the intention of enjoying some of the easier ones. Unfortunately we were there at a weekend, the “last weekend of the season”, and so were many other people. The car parks for the trails are generally quite small and the congestion left no room for a large motor home. So we didn't walk any trails.

Shenandoah was the first national park we'd visited in the USA. Entry was $25, but we paid $80 for an annual pass. It gets us in to all the national parks and many other places, such as wildlife refuges. It's wonderful value.

The pleasant ranger who took our money reassured us that our vehicle would get through the low bridge. Clearance was shown as 12ft 8in on the sign at the gate, and we look for 13ft to be sure. She assured us that the sign gave the minimum height at the edge of the road. Even larger RVs had clearance in the centre. But she warned that the campgrounds might be full because of the extra popular weekend although there were plenty of sites available at 8am. Bearing this in mind we didn't stop too often before we got to the first campground. Alas, the “Campground full” sign was out. And at the other one. Bother.

The scenery was delightful, and although we didn't get far off the road we did see some wildlife. A bear ran across the road in front of us. It was a small black bear. It was surprising to see a youngster so late in the year.

Another scenic view.

We ended up parking in a picnic area. There were no visible signs to tell us not to, but just after dark a ranger knocked on the door and told us that overnight parking was not allowed here. We weren't surprised. We explained that we had tried to get into both campgrounds and asked where could we park legally. We also described our unreliable headlights. The kind young man decided that, as a safety matter, he could not insist that we move on and allowed us to stay where we were. Thank you, Ranger.

We encountered the low bridge on the second day. We approached very carefully and did not hit anything. Whew.

An abandoned building that we encountered somewhere along the highway after we left the national park.

In West Virginia we encountered a National River. This was a new concept for us, as New Zealand does not have any national rivers. But you can read about the New River Gorge National River here. It is administered by the National Park Service and seems to function like a national park.

The most promoted element of the park is the New River Gorge Bridge, which certainly provides a splendid image. A helpful young man at an information center let us into a secret, that the bridge itself is easily accessible, but the picture postcard view requires quite a hike. His recommendation was to take a minor road to Grandview to see the gorge and then to drive South along the East bank of the river to Hinton, cross the river and drive North to get a close up view of the Sandstone Falls.

We did go to Grandview. It was not a difficult road to drive, and appeared to be a popular place to live if you had a bit of money. There were many large, new houses on sizeable plots of land.

A view of the gorge.
A 2-track railway runs alongside the river.

The was an overlook on the way to Hinton that afforded a clear sight of the Sandstone Falls. We admired them, and took their picture and decided to save ourselves from doubling back on the other side of the river.

The Sandstone Falls.

The encyclopaedia tells us that the Missouri River is the longest in America, but we're not so sure. The number of times we crossed Beaver Creek it has to be a notably long waterway. We must have driven over it in every Canadian province and in several of the United States.

This section of the New River flows from South to North, which our intuition told us was away from the sea and therefore the wrong way. It joins with the Gauley River to form the Kanawha River at Gauley Bridge. Thereafter its waters flow into the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers to reach the Gulf of Mexico, well to the South. However, its location and direction led George Washington to consider the possibility of building a canal to incorporate the New River into a network of navigable waterways.

A splendid example of sedimentary rock layers beside the New River.
Yet another lovely Appalachian view.

Our route took us back into Virginia, where many place names record their importance to travellers crossing the Appalachians. Such as Big Stone Gap, which was one of the few towns where we were turned away from a Walmart parking lot. Walmart were willing, but they didn't own the parking lot. We had to double back to Norton, and paused at Benge's Gap.

Powell Valley from Benge's Gap.
A couple of photogenic teasels.
The story of Chief Benge. Click on the image to enlarge it.

We got very excited when we refuelled here. It was the first time we encountered gasoline at less than $2.50 per gallon. Further South, though, it was significantly cheaper. Our best deal was $2.099 in South Carolina, and about 10 miles further on we saw prices just below $2.00 in Anderson SC. 

Even more exciting was the guy at the pump ahead of us who was smoking while he filled his pickup's tank. 

Perhaps the most famous of the mountain crossings is Cumberland Gap. Both of us vaguely remembered the song of that name recorded by Lonnie Donegan.  We found it on YouTube.  It's a nice upbeat tune with dire lyrics.

There is now a Cumberland Gap National Historical Park, with an information center on the Kentucky side. We spent some time there and were suitably educated.

An attractive stretch of the road.

† For those who are not familiar with our sense of humour, this is a joke. We did indeed cross many waterways labelled “Beaver Creek”, but that is because it is a popular name, not because they were the same river.

03 February 2019

Washington (October 2018)

After the complications of visiting New York, Washington was a breeze.

Back in Nova Scotia (see the post of 17 November 2018) we had met a nice couple from Washington, Don and Sarah Fish. They had recommended driving to Greenbelt Station and taking the Metrorail from there. Internet research located a campground in the Greenbelt National Park. This was not only very conveniently located, its tariff was a modest $20 per night.

Our programme was a simple one: stay two nights at the campground and see the main sights of Washington DC in the intervening day. We know there are a ton of things to do in Washington, but exploring the various branches of the Smithsonian just didn't appeal to us at the time. This was back in mid-October 2018 and the memory of why we were in a hurry to move on has grown faint. We were also invited to dinner by Don and Sara.

Malcolm-Edgar, our GPS, led us through Washington's maze of busy roads to the campground. It turned out to be not only conveniently located and inexpensive, but also very attractive. You'll have to rely on our word for it, though, since we didn't take any photographs.

After the difficulties of the Port Credit station's very small parking lot, described in Where do we stay while on the road? posted on 2 September 2018, we were a bit apprehensive that the Greenbelt station's lot would be full, although Don Fish had promised that it is a good, big one. We shouldn't have worried. The parking lot is HUGE and there were acres of empty spaces. There are even spaces specifically for large vehicles like ours, but they were so far away we didn't notice them. We offered to move to the designated area, but we were told it didn't matter. Clearly it wasn't expected to be a busy day.

To ride Washington's Metro you must have a SmarTrip fare card. They cost $10 each and are delivered with $8 credit. You tap on and off, the fare is automatically computed and deducted from your balance. Easy peasy.

From Greenbelt it was one simple change to Union Station where the Big Bus hop-on hop-off buses start. Excuse the advertisement, but they were SO much better than the company we used in New York. Part of the delight was the much better weather and the freer circulation of the traffic, but the guides were better and, a key thing for us, they didn't keep begging for tips. We were given accurate information about the best changes to make so that we rode the complete network of 3 routes in one day.

The Capitol

The Lincoln Memorial

The Washington Monument

The National Museum of African American History and Culture. This is the newest part of the Smithsonian and extremely well patronised. You have to arrive very, very early or queue for hours to get in.

The one satellite of the Smithsonian network that we did visit was the zoo. This was partly to satisfy our liking for natural history, but mainly because it was lunch time and zoos always have a cafe.

The Smithsonian is a remarkable organisation. Not only must it be the largest museum operator in the world, but in the capital city of capitalism all its establishments are free entry.

The Washington zoo is most proud of its giant pandas. So we had to go and have a look.

It was snack time in the giant panda house.
The red pandas were more active.
Crumbs dropped outside the cafe didn't last long with this starling and his mates around.

The White House was the last of the important buildings we saw. Freedom of speech was being exercised by a woman who appeared to be preaching, rather than airing a political opinion. A cyclist rode by and raised one hand aloft, his middle finger explaining his dissatisfaction with the President's conduct.

The standard tourist's view. The man holding the banner was trying to raise funds to help children in Haiti.

Back at Union Station we checked the Metro fare back to Greenbelt. You need to be careful as the tariff varies with the time of day. We topped up our SmarTrip cards to the exact amount needed for our journey.

We understood that parking could be paid either with a SmarTrip card or with cash. We had nil balances on our SmarTrip cards but we had cash. The first exit we approached had no attendant and the machine accepted only plastic. We turned around – not an easy manoeuvre for a 28ft vehicle – and tried the other exit where, according to a sign, a cashier was to be found. Again it was unmanned and taking only cards. In desperation we returned to the first gate and offered a debit card. A green light glowed and the barrier rose. Why couldn't they say that debit cards were accepted?

The route to Don and Sarah's house took us along sections of multi-lane highways. It was past the peak of the rush hour, but traffic was still heavy. Changing lanes was not easy in the dusk, but we made it without incident.

The food and the conversation were excellent. We had a lovely time.

Thank you Don and Sarah.

It was, of course, dark when we started back to the campground. We had done very little night time driving. Judging speeds and distances when we had to change lane was tricky, but by now traffic was light and most American drivers seem to be considerate. As we approached the park we used full beam for perhaps the first time on the trip. The lights gave good illumination of the road ahead – and then they went out! Frantically working the light switch brought them back on, but it happened three more times before we reached our campsite. Clearly we had an electrical problem with Gregory. No more night driving until it was fixed.

Someone, we think it was Don, had recommended the Shenandoah National Park as being worthy of a visit. To get there we had to circle around Washington and take Interstate 66. We set Malcolm-Edgar and off we went. We had no practical alternative to using the interstate highways, and we seemed to encounter more than our fair share of highways that split and where we had to move across two or three lanes to take the leftwards option.

Signs started appearing to warn us of tolls ahead. Malcolm-Edgar is programmed to avoid tolls, but it's not the end of the world if we have to pay one or two. Except that the signs started alerting us that only electronic payment was accepted, and we don't have the magic device that you need for this system. When a sign said “Last Exit Before Toll” we took it. It was a road to Washington's main airport, Dulles. We ended up following it right into the airport and past the departure drop-off zone. Then when we left the airport we could see the road we came in by for a few miles before we peeled off and made our way to I66 without having to pay a toll.

There's never a dull day when you are travelling.

02 February 2019

A murder before our eyes

It's not often you get to witness a murder, especially just outside the window in the back garden AND get to photograph it. 

The victim was a pigeon. The perpetrator looks something like a buzzard, but is not large enough.  The best suggestion made so far is a female Sparrowhawk.  Positive identification will help naturalists, but not police, with their enquiries.


The homicide in progress.  Considering that the picture was taken through the glass of the french door it’s quite sharp.  

A mug shot of the killer.  Do you know them?


A holiday within a holiday.

On 18 December we flew out of the United States. Our permission to visit the country was about to expire and we have to spend at least 90 days outside North America before we can return. We left Gregory, our motor home, in storage in Florida. All the water tanks are drained and the engine battery is disconnected. Hopefully the motor will start without assistance when we return in March.

We flew to London, via Reykjavik. Why via Reykjavik? Because we plan to break the return journey there for a few days in Iceland.

Bill's brother Nigel had arranged for a taxi to meet us at the airport and take us directly to his home in Shaftesbury, Dorset. We had some difficulty contacting the driver, Peter. He likes to use Whatsapp, so we had set this up and tested it while we were in Florida. But something went wrong at Heathrow, because we both sent messages and none of them were delivered. Luckily Peter knows Nigel well and saw a resemblance in Bill, so all was well.

Nigel would have met us himself, but he is in New Zealand. It's a long story.

So we settled down to spend 3 months based in Nigel's house and with the use of his car. After almost 7 months of nearly non-stop travelling it has been very restful. We know each morning where we will spend that night. We have the luxury of unlimited Internet data, and can even watch TV if we so wish. We have done a lot of reading.

We can walk to a supermarket in 4 minutes, and Shaftesbury is a typical English country town**, with stone buildings, narrow streets and still-cobbled Gold Hill, whose image is the subject of many chocolate boxes, jigsaw puzzles and TV commercials which want to deceive the consumer into thinking that the product is traditional.

**Mike Theilmann has taken issue with this comment.  In his opinion Shaftesbury is head and shoulders above most other English country towns in charm and location.  Quite exceptional in fact.  (We've corrected your spelling of Shaftesbury, Mike.)

It's been cold outside, but the house is centrally heated and very cozy. There is a wood-burner in the lounge which adds a pleasant view of glowing embers to the room as well as heat.

Compared to life in the months charging about North America we have been quite slothful, but we have spent time with friends and got about a bit. Dorset has many country lanes that were created in horse-and-cart days. The established houses, dry-stone walls and hedges constrain the width of the roads, sometimes severely, and are more effective than road signs at enforcing the speed limit.

Typical Dorset countryside.  The cleared area on the valley floor is a long, thin ploughed field, not a road or a river.

The black diagonal stripe on the white circle indicates that the open road speed limit applies in the side lane.  That's 60mph, but you'd have to be insane to drive that fast.

A relatively major road - it has two full lanes and a centre line!

Not all the roads are claustrophobic.  This is in the New Forest, Hampshire.

But there are other hazards - New Forest ponies roam free ...

... and this donkey just didn't care.

At Fovant, near Shaftesbury, some Army units have carved their badges in the chalk hillside.

The river at Weymouth.

Further afield we have visited Eve's sister-in-law near Birmingham and Bill's son and his family in Meltham, Yorkshire. Future plans include Cornwall, Winchester and London.

Today we are not going anywhere. It is snowing. Nothing, of course, to compare with the effects of the Polar Vortex in Canada and the USA, but more than the UK can properly cope with. Yesterday cars were abandoned in Cornwall, on a road we are planning to drive next week! It is forecast to clear up today, but I don't think so.

It was still snowing when the picture was taken.

A scene from the Sub-tropical Gardens at Abbotsbury.  Try and picture them under today's snow.

Nigel will return later this month, and we will have his company for about 3½weeks. We are very much looking forward to that.

Due to the relaxing effect of a warm, cosy house, we have added only a couple of posts to the blog. We will make an effort to bring it up to date. Tomorrow. Maybe.