Photo 101: Connect

Hi there people!

It’s been a busy day here in sunny Cornwall and what with flying around enjoying myself on one of the bikes, Baby to be precise, I nearly forgot to take some photos for today’s assignment!

Fortunately the fine weather is set to continue for the week and the light was still good enough at six thirty this evening for me to grab the shot.

In the relatively remote spot where Dookes H.Q. is located on the edge of Bodmin Moor in Cornwall, our connection to the outside world can sometimes be a bit fragile. We have no mains gas, no mains drainage and our electricity is supplied along these slender cables; a couple of times this winter they have fallen, cutting us off from the power grid.

It pays to keep an emergency generator ready!

Connect

Connect

Stay connected!

Dookes

Photo101: Solitude & The Rule of Thirds

Today dawned bright, crisp, slightly frosty and very sunny. Just the weather for getting out on two wheels in search of today’s assignment.

As I bowled along on Harls enjoying the lovely morning it did occur to me that this was the perfect embodiment of Solitude, at least for me! The trouble is that to capture that moment in a decent photograph would be I feel nearly impossible.

Now worries though, I was heading for one of my special little spots where solitude comes easily.

This is the young River Fowey high on Bodmin Moor and not very far from it’s source. I love sitting here on the river bank just taking in the total serenity of the place. Small trout and salmon dart in the quick clear water, Dippers busily search along the pebbles and if you are blessed, the bright turquoise flash of a Kingfisher may catch your eye. You have to sit still for hours though to spot an otter, but they are here!

My place of Solitude: River Fowey on Bodmin Moor

My place of Solitude: River Fowey on Bodmin Moor

Yes you can sit in solitude, but at the same time you have to share that place with the real local inhabitants.

Dookes

PS Fowey is pronounced “Foy.”

Photo 101: Bliss, in Boots!

One thing I’ve noticed about this great course, Photo 101, is that it certainly gets you thinking!

For example take today’s assignment, Bliss.

Over my breakfast I pondered how I could capture this in one photograph.

First off I dragged out my copy of The Oxford English Dictionary, just to make sure I was understanding the question, so to speak! O.E.D. defines the word like this:

“Bliss”- Reach a state of perfect happiness, oblivious of everything else.

Hmm. Now I must be a very lucky chap, no let’s re-phrase that, I AM a very lucky chap! You see I often reach that state of perfect happiness doing lots of different things and no, I never take that for granted.

I guess the most obvious, to most Blogonaughts is when I’m riding motorbikes, but there’s loads more to me than that! Mountains do it for me too, when I’m on the beach, walking in the country, horse riding, gardening. . . you get the drift?

So how do I show this in one photograph? Well sure I could raid the Dookes archive and maybe drag out a shot of one of my bikes in the mountains, or the country, or by the beach, but that would be cheating; this course is about taking photographs for the assignment!

I got the old brain into gear and over another cup of tea, it always helps us Brits, I got it. There is a common thread to the activities and things that take me to that state of bliss: boots!

Yes, I know it’s totally off the wall, but it’s true; I often find my greatest happiness when I’m doing things that require me to wear boots! So here it is my personal pile of bliss!

Boots of Bliss, all size 11!

Boots of Bliss, all size 11!


There’s a lot of memories, miles, happiness and bliss tied up in that pile of footwear!

“These boots were made for walking (and riding, hiking, gardening etc. . .) ”

Dookes

Photo101: Water

When I saw today’s assignment I had a great idea, but unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans.

Last night a severe gale blew in from the Atlantic with winds gusting to over 80 miles per hour, my gentle stroll along a North Cornwall beach turned into a trial of endurance and for the first time in my life I was blown off my feet, several times!

Now please, before the “Laughter Police” are called, I wasn’t ever putting myself in danger or in need of rescue by others, I stayed well back from the sea and checked the tides before I ventured out. This also meant that I didn’t get as close to the surf as I planned for the original idea, but I got a few reasonable shots that I hope you enjoy.

As an aside, the lens got so thoroughly coated with salt in the strong north wind, that I was reduced to licking it to keep it clear, yeck!

Anyway here are the photos!
P1050191

P1050223

P1050238This last shot looks so benign and peaceful, it wasn’t, I just wish it had sound so you could hear the wind howling!

I hope that these are watery enough for everyone!

All taken today on the beach at Crackington Haven in North Cornwall; 50.7445N, 4.6377W.

Catch you all soon.

Dookes

Street

Blogging University Photo101, Day Two.

Here we go then, today’s assignment is just one word again, this time “Street.”
I hope you enjoy my interpretation.

I currently trapped at Dookes H.Q. waiting for the boiler engineer to arrive to service our central heating, so no time to pop out and find something exotic! I’ve made do with the lane outside our cottage, which this morning is lightly bathed in gentle Cornish drizzle, though the daffodils certainly lift the scene.

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As you can see, this street is quite bucolic and in a few weeks time when the trees will be covered in leaves it’s almost a green tunnel.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Home.

Hello everyone.
I’ve signed up to another Blogging University course, similar to the ones I did last year. This one is all about Photography, so climb on board, this ride could get interesting and I really do not know where we will be going!

Today’s assignment: Home.

P1050164

Let me explain what is going on.

There’s a Welsh rugby shirt and a small Ddraig Goch/Red Dragon (the symbol of Wales) lit by a lamp whose base is made from a piece of Aberllefenni slate from the heart of Mid Wales.

These are things that are dear to me and link me to Wales, the Land of My Fathers, where my heart is and which will be forever “home.”

Each night as I turn out the light my hand touches that piece of rock and I am in contact with home, I makes me happy and at the same time a little sad; we call it “Hiraeth” in the old language.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

“Hiraeth” is a Welsh word with no direct translation in English. It represents a longing for the homeland, but not mere homesickness, it is an expression of the bond with the old country when one is away from it…

Hunting The Cornish Pasty

Gool Piran Lowen!

Or if you don’t speak Cornish, Happy St Piran’s Day!

I’ve blogged previously about St Piran’s Day and if you would like to read it about again just click here.

St Piran’s Day is very special in the lives of Cornish Folk, not only does today celebrate one of Cornwall’s adopted Saints, but probably more importantly it signifies the start of the Pasty Hunting Season! The previous season having closed at midnight on the 4th of March.

So what is a pasty, the legendary foodstuff of Cornish people since time immemorial?

Some say that they were most frequently found around the tin mines for which the County is famous.
Others swear that the natural habitat of the true Cornish Pasty is near the old fishing ports and harbours that provide haven around Cornwall’s rugged coast from the wild Atlantic.
There are also those who claim that the finest Cornish Pasty is native to the wild uplands of Bodmin Moor, where the steep slopes give them stamina and the wild heather adds depth to their flavour!

Mindful that the Pasty Hunting Season was to end at midnight last night and not start again until the first minute of today, myself and a group of friends, who unlike me are true Cornishmen, set out yesterday to bag ourselves a few fresh pasties.

It was a hard day, the true Cornish Pasty is an elusive creature and only found west of the River Tamar in the Duchy of Cornwall. Those that know where to find the finest Pasty are often hesitant to divulge their knowledge and when asked will often just say “tiz best to find your own.” It is also a curious thing though how Cornish Folk can never really agree just what makes the best Pasty. Some like the flavour to be mild, others like a hint of pepper, whilst the arguments about whether it should be very juicy or more dry can often lead to insults being traded over a pint of cider! Don’t even mention how the crust should be after cooking. . . !

As to how to capture the elusive creature, well I won’t go into the sordid details, but lets just say that the more humane the despatch the better the flavour on the plate!

Here then is the evidence that yesterday’s hunt was completely successful and no I’m not telling you where we (shot) caught this one, as you can see though it looks like someone had two goes at it, judging by the wounds.P1050142
So there is our freshly cooked Cornish Pasty lying on the flag Of St Piran and the story above is of course, nonsense, but not so the humble, nay great, Cornish Pasty!

The traditional Cornish Pasty is a baked pastry which since 2011 has enjoyed Protected Geographical Indication status within the European Union. A real Cornish Pasty must only contain beef (normally skirt steak) sliced or diced potato, swede (which confusingly in Cornwall is called turnip, often pronounced “turmut”!) and onion, oh yes and salt and pepper. DSC_0149The filling is encased within pastry, folded over the filling then hand crimped along one edge forming a “D” shape. The crimp must not under any circumstances be along the top in a Cornish Pasty! The pasty should turn golden when baked and retain its distinctive shape hot or cold.DSC_0138

Where exactly the humble pasty first originated is open to much speculation, although its links with Cornwall are strong there is evidence that it may, just may, have first been baked in France, but we’ll leave that to history!

In Cornwall the pasty is associated with the strenuous lives of miners and fisherfolk, jobs that needed substantial food to keep you going. Tradition also tells us that a part sweet, part savoury pasty was often the norm in days gone by, the theory being that a meal of main course and sweet were contained in opposite ends of the one pastry case, very clever!

In the metal mines of Cornwall and Devon the miners were noted to eat their pasty whilst holding the crimped edge, which was then discarded, so to minimise the amount of poisonous minerals that would be ingested. Legend has it that the discarded pieces of crust were left for the “Knockers,” small spirit folk that created a tapping sound to warn of dangers such as an impending tunnel collapse.

Today the simple Cornish Pasty is big business. Locally often called an “Oggy” the simple pasty is looked on as Cornwall’s “National” dish and accounts for over 6% of the Cornish food economy. Pasty bakers in Cornwall do either very well or die. It’s no use making an O.K. pasty round these parts, there are plenty of shops selling absolutely fantastic ones and everyone has their favourite. I once had an office where in the radius of a ten minute walk there were five different shops each selling their own ‘made on the premises’ pasty; each one was subtly different, yet each one was equally superb!
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My all time favourite? Well, I’m not going to name names, but it’s right at the other end of the county, 65 miles away on the quay in Hayle and it’s worth the ride down there any time!

Guess what I’m having for lunch today? Yes, you’ve got it, that wild Cornish Pasty that we caught last night!

Here’s to St Piran, who probably never ate one, and here’s to Cornwall and the Cornish Pasty!

“Oggy Oggy Oggy, Oi Oi Oi!”

Catch you all soon. 🙂

Dookes

PS Yes I know there are also Pasties made all over the world nowadays and if you check it out, it was often Cornish miners who first imported them!

Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Hapus, Happy Saint David’s Day.

Bore da pawb. Heddiw yw Dydd Gŵyl Dewi, y Diwrnod Cenedlaethol Cymru. Dymuniadau gorau i chi i gyd!

Good morning everyone. Today is Saint David’s Day, the National Day of Wales. Best wishes to you all!

The weather here in Cornwall is miserable; swirling rain and hill mist swathe the scenery around Dookes H.Q.. . .In fact it’s just like being home in Wales!

Never mind though, outside the daffodils are in flower and with a freshly picked bunch on the table next to me, its like the sun has come out.P1050125
OK, brief history lesson then:
Dewi Sant/St David was born towards the end of the 5th Century in the region of West Wales known as Ceredigion. Whilst alive he built a reputation for his preaching, teaching and simple living amongst the Celtic people. He founded a monastery at Glyn Rhosin, which became an important early Christian centre. Dewi died on 1st March 589 and was buried in what is now known as St David’s Cathedral in Pembrokeshire where his shrine became a popular place of pilgrimage.

For centuries 1st March has been a national festival in Wales with parades, concerts, poetry readings and of course traditional food all being enjoyed. Around the country not only will you see the flag of Wales, Y Ddraig Goch (the Red Dragon) being flown, but also the flag of St David, a simple yellow cross on a black field.P1030045

Today is also the time when Welsh exiles around the world remember ‘The Land of My Fathers’ and try to ease the sense of “Hiraeth” that yearning homesickness tinged with grief, nostalgia, wistfulness and pride that we often feel.

On that note, I’m off to gather the food for supper tonight. Golwythi cig oen, cennin â chaws, tatws a bara lawr: lamb chops, leek gratin, potatoes and laverbread.

If Mrs Dookes is lucky I may even sing a few verses of Calon Lân as well!

In the words of St David:
“Gwnewch y pethau bychain mean bywyd.” “Do ye the little things in life.”

Gwlad, gwlad, pleidiol wyf i’m glad.

Hwyl fawr!
Dookes

Two Wheeled Friends

OK. I admit it, lately I’ve been rubbish at posting on my blog!

Honestly, its not for the want of intent, nor am I suffering from writers block, no I’ve just been to darn busy dodging the rain!

Now as I type, the afternoon sun is streaming through the window, daffodils and snowdrops are in bloom outside and this part of the world is looking a much better place. The last three days have been the longest dry spell since the end of October and it really is amazing how a change in the weather can put a smile on everyone’s face!IMG_1055

The other day “Harls” popped into Plymouth Harley Davidson for her annual service and came back looking very clean and smart, a mini valet being part of the deal! It prompted me to set to with buckets of warm soapy water and give “Baby” a long overdue bath; she’s been bearing the brunt of my riding in recent months and was getting quite filthy! Several hours and a few skinned knuckles later, I had two gleaming machines basking in the sunshine.

bikes editedI have to acknowledge that I am a lucky chap, not only do I own these two wonderful machines, but I have friends who help me out in all sorts of ways. Take for example the photo above, which had a whopping big shadow across it when I took it. Then along came my friend Alba, who is a Photoshop genius, and bingo! No more shadow, you can’t even see the join! Thanks A!

It is very important after you wash a motorbike, to check that everything still works perfectly and to do that you have to go for a ride. . . at least that’s what I say! Now this leads to something quite interesting, because in the eleven months that my bike fleet has grown to two I have never ridden both on the same day. So, with a lovely afternoon to play with and two bikes with full tanks it just had to be done.

I started with “Baby” the big blue beast. Riding this bike has now become almost second nature to me; I’ve got used to her being a big heavy lump and I certainly appreciate the way that the faring keeps me snug out of the wind. The electronic throttle I find a joy and oh the cruise control on a long run is bliss! Anyway, she seemed fine after her wash and thirty miles just flew by.

Time to swap onto “Harls.”

Now I confess that I have been feeling pretty guilty about not really riding my old friend much, but I’m glad to report that she doesn’t seem to be holding it against me. She fired up first time and sat happily singing the Harley Davidson  “Potato, potato,” song as she warmed up. For the uninitiated, the crank angle of a Harley’s “V” twin engine makes the exhaust sound like the bike is saying “Potato” repeatedly when it’s on tickover!

We eased out of Dookes H.Q. and accelerated up the road. The staccato roar of her exhaust ripped into the cool still air and lifted my spirits considerably. I could almost feel the concussion of every explosion of her two cylinders. The throttle response was crisp and sharp, true her engine is 240cc smaller than “Baby,” but she weighs over 100kg less and can accelerate like a bullet as a result!  She communes exquisitely with the road, her suspension is stiffer and firmer than “Baby” and whilst the ride is not as luxurious, it’s a lot more fun! I made a mental note that I must ride her a lot more over the coming year and have that fun more often. I think I’d only gone about half a mile before my smile met at the back of my neck!

After a few miles I pulled over to check all was well and grab a quick photo in the gorgeous late afternoon light and next? Well we rode some more miles, then some more after that!IMG_0532I’ve said it before, I love that bike!

“You’ve got to ride to live, live to ride, feel the flames burn inside…”

Catch you soon.

Docks

 

 

 

Dreams of The Sun

OK lets face it, mild, wet winters are, as a good friend of mine says, rubbish!

It’s not like you can get out and enjoy the crispness of a beautiful frosty day or have fun fooling around in the snow, no, everything is wet, slippery and squishy! Walking around the grounds Dookes H.Q. is like taking on the mud of the Western Front, trying to do the winter garden maintenance is becoming very, well, trying!

We’ve got a quite few trees that need serious pruning and in a couple of cases felling. I’ve managed to tackle some of the work, but the underfoot conditions are certainly limiting productivity. It’s enough to drive you to tears. Talking of which, take a look at this photo of the end of a branch that I cut off a large pine tree, I swear that the tree is shedding a tear!  Can you see it?IMG_1040

Anyway, enough of this moaning stuff!

At least with no ice on the roads I have been out and about quite a lot on two wheels and I’m pleased to report the effectiveness of my gear at keeping out the water! I’ve banged on previously about how important quality protective equipment is on a motorbike, it’s certainly something I never skimp on and I feel that approach repays me many times over.

I also believe in good training and as regular blogonaughts may recall, I am qualified as an “Advanced” motorcyclist. One of the great things, or maybe not, about this is that every few years I have to go through an “Assessment Ride,” with a qualified examiner, just to check that I’m up to standard and behaving myself! Now the great thing about riding with my mate ‘G’ is that he’s a qualified Police trained advanced instructor and is great at giving constructive feedback, even so, when I had to do my assessment the other week I was still a little nervous and that’s probably no bad thing.

The weather was, predictably awful; strong winds, driving rain, the odd bit of hail and part way through a burst of bright sunshine that shone straight in my face and reflected off the road like a laser beam! Oh yeah, then more rain!

Because I wanted to feel really comfortable I took ‘Harls,’ yes I know ‘Baby’ has better fairing protection, but she’s big and heavy and ‘Harls’ fits me like a glove, I wanted to concentrate on the ride and not the bike! “Baby” and I have done quite a few thousand miles in the ten months that I’ve owned her, but nothing like the tens of thousands that “Harls” and I have shared!

Two sexy wheels!

Two sexy wheels!

The ride took in a variety of different roads and traffic levels, all fiendishly structured to put me through my paces and check out different facets of my riding. I didn’t know where we were going and had to watch out for my examiners traffic signals in my rear-view mirror to tell me which way to go, just an additional little pressure!

Anyway all went well and sixty or so miles later my examiner was happy to sign me off as still competent. ‘G’ says that he would have kicked my backside if not!!! Even better, no rain leaked into any of my riding clothing or helmet, happiness all round!

There’ll be even more happiness when the better weather arrives, but in the meantime I’ll content myself with pictures of warmer days and get on with planning the next few trips!

Île de Ré Salt Lagoons

Île de Ré Salt Lagoons

Catch you all soon!

“Go forth and have no fear, come close and lend an ear.”

Dooks