Beach butterflies

More clouds and rain to start the day. I slept well and got up late. Clare was already cooking pancakes for breakfast. The rain stopped mid morning so we drove to Cold Knap in Barry, walked around the pond, had lunch in Mr Villa's Fish Restaurant, then went for another walk along the road above the beach. 

The tide was out, almost as far as it goes, revealing the full extent of that vast deposit of pebbles arrayed in a sinuous curve around the bay by tides and wind over centuries, about fifty feet deep and a hundred and twenty yards in breadth. Sparse vegetation has taken hold among the pebble at the very top level, mauve coloured marsh mallow flowers provide a splash of colour among the pale grey stones. 

I was surprised to see half a dozen Small White butterflies flitting between the plants. I followed one with black wingtips in search of a photo. It visited every plant over a stretch of a hundred years, then settled on a big plant along with four others. It's the most butterflies I've seen in one place for a very long time. I got a photo of a couple mating. They move so fast it's hard to get a good photo of them unless they settle, and it's never for long.

We were home again by a quarter to four, and I went for another hour's walk down to the river before the next bout of rain was due. The Taff wasn't as swollen as I expected, given so much rain this past few days. Today's photos I uploaded when I got home. You can see them here.

After supper I found something interesting to watch on BBC Four - a fictionalised French drama telling the real story of a serial rapist whose crimes were committed over a period of thirty years in the vicinity of the river Sambre crossing the border of north eastern France and Belgium near the town of Mauberge. As the third of six episodes was showing, I found it on BBC iPlayer and watched the first two instead. 

It was told like a documentary, with each episode focusing on an individual in the story; the Victim, The investigating Magistrate, the Mayor, the statistical Scientist, the Police Commandant and the rapist. It's a useful introduction to the way the French criminal legal system works, different from ours. I could have done with knowing this before starting to watch 'Spiral/Engrenages' over six years ago as it took me ages to work out who's who and what their roles are. It's an effective as well as informative story telling format, with fewer flashbacks moving for most part from the late 1980s to the present day and charting the evolution of attitudes towards women and sex crimes over recent decades.

On the beach

With buds bursting into early leaf, a clear sunny sky, and a mild morning after the night of the full moon, it felt like spring when we sat down to our pancake breakfast today. In the news, a report that Joe Biden has been in conversation with Zhi Jinping about the situation in Ukraine, just a day after speaking with Putin. China is playing the enigmatic game at the moment. 

There are unofficial reports that Putin is not just re-shuffling about purging his intelligence services, arresting some of his top people. This may be his way of shifting the blame for his error of judgement in thinking Ukraine could be blitzkrieged in order for him to install a new regime. 

Russian armies are in a stalemate situation in Ukraine with heavy casualty and equipment losses, destroying cities by indiscriminate bombing and missile attacks is the alternative strategy terrorizing the country into submission. Putin scapegoating his advisors is his lame attempt to divert attention from his own inability to grasp the reality of a world that has changed deeply since the Cold War ended. He was succeeded so far in uniting the free world against his regime, and economically punishing the Russian people. How long can he get away with this?

At the end of the morning, we drove to Cold Knap in Barry for another fish and chip lunch, though sadly no fish soup this week. I guess it depends on the supply of fresh ingredients available. After lunch, we climbed up the clifftop path and set out for Porthkerry, but by the time we got to the woods Clare's hip joint was giving her too much pain, so we retraced our steps to beach level. Again the tide was far out and on a whim, I made the precarious descent of the massive pebble bank to where bedrock and a thin layer of sand is exposed at low tide, and took photographs. 

There's nothing much to hold millions of tons of rounded stones in place apart from gravity, inertia and their irregular shapes. Each step down you take, you're likely to slip a little as stones move underfoot. Superficially it looks as if nothing grows. The occasional bunch of seaweed on the surface washes in and out with the tide. No doubt there are micro-organisms and plants in between the pebbles. The power of the tide moves the surface levels of stones around day by day, and sand gets washed in and out from between the stones. Only at the deepest level beyond reach of being moved by the most powerful of storms would it be possible for sub-soil to develop. 

Coming back up the steepest shoal closest to the top, it was safer to crawl with hands and feet spreading my weight to avoid slipping backwards and falling. The exertion was worth the risk though, as you get a different perspective on the pebble bank down there, fifty feet below promenade level.

On the return trip we visited Pugh's garden centre in Wenvoe for Clare to select a variety of bedding plants to bring fresh seasonal colour to her flower beds. We had a drink in the cafe's sunny outdoor area. There was a young couple with two small infants at a table nearby. The dad spoke Italian to one child and English to his wife. Co-incidentally the Wales v Italy rugby international was in Cardiff today, making roads busier than usual. As we drove home, news came through that Italy had narrowly beaten Wales, thus ending their losing streak of 36 games in a row. The city will be in a state of shock tonight.

There were a couple of interesting documentaries on tonight, one about the history of the Normans and another about life in Yukon the Canadian province nearest the Arctic circle, one of the few places in the world where some indigenous people still live as subsistence hunters. Inevitably, the impact of global heating on the seasonal cycle is bringing to an end a way of life in close relationship with nature which has persisted for several millennia.

For the second time this week the Cymru Du crimmie 'Hidden' was shown on BBC Four tonight, having been premiered Wednesday night on BBC 2 Wales. No point in watching it twice, but used the time to complete a few tasks and get to bed earler for a change.

Clifftop walk

How lovely to wake up to a bright sunny day after a dull and mostly wet week. After our usual Saturday pancake breakfast, I finished off and printed my Sunday sermon, and then we drove to Cold Knap in Barry for lunch at Mister Villa's fish restaurant. It serves the most delicious fish soup, even better than the one at La Marina by Cardiff Barrage. What a treat. I also had cod and Clare had hake, perfectly cooked. 

While we were there, restaurant owner Christine arrived for lunch. Clare knows her through Steiner study groups but not seen her since before the pandemic, so after we'd eaten they had a catch-up chat before we went for our clifftop walk to Porthkerry for a cup of tea. I don't think I've ever seen the tide so far out, exposing bedrock a couple of hundred metres from the vast bank of pebbles forming the beach.

Fighting continues in Ukraine with more than a million feeling the country altogether so far. Attempts to create a humanitarian corridor to let civilians to leave Mariupol failed in the first hour of implementation due to a breakdown in trust between invaders and defenders. Russia and Belarus have been banned from the World Cup, and the Russian Formula One Grand Prix  cancelled. Paralympic athletes have been barred from the Winter games, the day before it started and more banking sanctions imposed, hitting the global economy as well as the Russian economy even harder. There's no sign of a halt in fighting though it seems Ukranian forces are still slowing down the Russian advance remarkably. What next?

There wasn't much of interest on telly after supper, apart from a French satirical comedy called 'La Belle Epoque'. It was hilarious in parts, poking fun a digital modernity but the plot was rather confusing to follow and over reliant on simulated oral sex scenes to represent boredom in jaded relationships. Totally pointless and time wasting. The movie run time could have been ten minutes short without them. I don't know why the BBC bothered with it.

After a coast walk, a thoughtful movie

Clare made pancakes for breakfast again, then late morning we drove to Cold Knapp for lunch at the excellent Mr Villa's Fish and Chip Restaurant. But first after parking above the marvellous pebble beach, we walked around the headland and back. After lunch a walk along the clifftop to Porthkerry. 

The climb from the car park up to the continuation of the Coast Path is steep - 115 steps and then a further climb up to the top, as rise of about 150 feet. I was surprised at how stiff my legs became as I climbed, despite going up and down thirteen stairs at home a dozen times a day. I had to stop and rest several times, to avoid getting utterly breathless. It made me realise that the thousand odd miles of keep fit walking I've done have all been on the flat, so there are some leg muscles which have had far less exercise, and need working on. And, I need to work on exercise that will raise my heart rate too, in order to retain as the cardiovaascular condition possible. We live and learn. If we don't we die.

The weather was overcast, and a shower of light rain dampened our return journey to the car, but we covered five miles. That's the furthest Clare has walked for some time, so it did us both some good.

In the evening BBC Four treated us to a marvellous, beautifully crafted Norwegian movie called the King's Decision, all about the role of King Haakon in the run up to the Nazi occupation of Norway in April 1940, when Quisling's coup d'etat took place. 

I hadn't realised Haakon was the first Norwegian King to be elected. He saw himself as a champion of Norwegian Parliamentary democracy. Hitler wanted him to endorse the Quisling regime, but rather than do so he abdicated and went into exile in Britain, returning only when the war ended in 1945. 

Hitler rose to dictatorship by exploiting populist sentiment. The King believed firmly that only a Parliament freely and legally elected by its citizens had the right to govern his country. Showing this film when the British Parliament is under attack from populist fervour whipped up by right wing  movements and tabloid newspapers couldn't be more timely. I wouldn't be surprised if the BBC now gets castigated for its selection and scheduling of a European movie of such thoughtful quality.

Marking the passing of a generation

Today Auntie Ivy's funeral took place at Cardiff and Vale Crematorium outside Barry. I was relieved to have nothing else in my diary, as it meant I could go to the Funeral home down in the town to take some flowers and pay my last respects to her beforehand. The service was conducted by a Humanist celebrant, as Ivy never went to church and declared herself an atheist, even though both her husbands were churchgoers, and she brought her children up to attend church. Her son Alan, accompanied by four of his cousins Ros, Dianne, Lindsay and me, led mourners into the chapel, followed by the relatives of her second husband Bill and friends. About thirty of us altogether.  

Ivy was an intelligent, capable, independent minded woman. Recounting her life story took about half the service time. It was both interesting and informative. It was delightful to hear about the way she kept young in spirit, mentally and physically active until her last few years. Always a ballroom dancing enthusiast, she started tap dancing classes in her late eighties. It was a salutary reminder to me to work at overcoming the problems I've had recently and keep up a regular regime of physical activity, and not be discouraged.

After the service, there was a reception with an amazing finger buffet held at Mr Villa's Fish and Chip restaurant and Oyster Bar. The style of the place is plain simple old fashioned sit down chippie with blue and white chequered tablecloths with salt 'n vinegar pots on the table. It's actually a sophisticated sea food restaurant, serving a wonderful variety of locally sourced fish and meat products from South Wales. It's a real foodie's delight and already popular with locals since it launched a year ago in its current form. I seem to recall there was always a seafront cafe in this locality, but now it's reaching out to a wider range of customers with its new offer.

The cousins ate together and talked for an hour, such a rarity to spend any time together nowadays. Then I took Dianne to Cardiff Central station for her train to London. With all but Auntie Mary, in her nineties, of our parents generation still alive, times of family gathering get fewer and further between. The older we get the less mobile we get, as well as living further and further apart from South Wales where most of us grew up. How spread out we are! A couple in London, a couple in Berkshire, a couple in South Wales, one in North Wales, one in the West of Scotland, one in Cambridge, one in Warwickshire, one in Somerset, one in Hong Kong, one in the South of France. It gives the notion of 'extended family' a meaning it didn't carry in quite the same way a century ago.

All this is thanks to life decisions made by our parents half a century or longer ago. So many different stories interacting. So much we don't know, as well as know about each other. Life is never long enough to find out everything about, and no family tree however expertly traced can do more than convey an outline. Only Ros still lives in the Rhymney Valley a mile or so from where half the cousins were born and bred. With Ivy's passing, the default territorial link of the extended Kimber clan to South Wales is just about broken.