Kenilworth and faster broadband

We left Plas Baladeulyn mid morning and drove along the A5 to Llangollen to stop for lunch. Parking a difficult, but serendipdy prevail. We found a space just across the street from two tea rooms, side by side. We settled for the Vintage Road Tea Room, where we enjoyed, not only a good meal but also the charming experience of sitting out in their small back yard to eat. All the crockery used is china in traditional patterns, and there's lots on display as well, indoors.

Inevitably the M6 was congested with traffic and slow moving, but apart from that the journey, in good weather, was uneventful, and we arrived in Kenilworth by five. Kath, Anto and Rhiannon weren't there. They'd sent us messages and a few photos from their ferry crossing from Portsmouth to Bilbao on Tuesday, plus a picture of their hotel in Olite, the wine capital of Navarra province in Spain. We made supper, and got ourselves an early night, conscious of the need to get Rachel to Birmingham airport by six forty-five for her return flight to Arizona.

How nice to be able to take advantage of Anto's fast BT business broadband! Instead of two hours at home to download the office file system to this machine, it took twenty minutes. It certainly won't be long now until I put my order in to get faster broadband. All the users on this machine are now completely updated. Hopefully there'll be fewer virtual lockouts due to file system updating issues in future. What's bad is how little control you have over the process.

You can, however, create a user area to work in that doesn't have a OneDrive address to sync to. The system takes slightly longer to boot up, as if it can't believe that syncing isn't required. But then you can access internet without hindrance, and if needs be get files from any OneDrive account by means of a browser, just the way it always was. 

As time goes on, it'll be interesting to see if the amount of comment on tech forums about the Microsoft's use of syncing to 'data-slurp your machine and potentially compromise data privacy increases because users don't have control over what's being sent. Let's hope that complaints will rise into a roar of discontent, and more people switch to run versions of Linux on terms of their own choice instead.

 

Ascent to Y Fron Eryri

The early morning rain cleared up and a breeze blew away low cloud locally, and this encouraged us to set out on the hill walk that starts on a footpath just opposite Trigonos main entrance. We climbed through sheep pastureland for three quarters of an hour, around the edge of the easternmost slate spoil tip, and then above on to moorland as far as the quiet little hamlet of Y Fron Eryri. We met the local postman on his rounds and he offered to take a group photo of us at one of the many stiles typical of the region, made of slate, with iron gates. 

From up there at 250m the views of this industrial legacy, with Nantlle Lake beyond in the valley floor, and the crests on the other side, rising to more than 300m, are simply amazing for their stark and colourful contrasts. I couldn't help imagining the quarrymen from Y Fron and other neighbouring hamlets walking up and down these tracks to their workplace - walking to such drugery and dange - sustained by the beauty of the landscape rising above its own ravaging, and the faith that kept praise and dignity alive in their hearts.

We started our descent on tracks leading us past the only working slate quarry left and through abandoned quarry sites that closed fifty years ago, now slowly, patiently, being reclaimed by wild nature. While we were eating our picnic lunch on the mountainside, two buzzards circled over us on the breeze, calling to each other with a cry reminiscent of a cat. The sun shone, but Snowdon in the distance was still wreathed in cloud.

A memorable walk, but one that called for a siesta and a quiet evening to follow, savouring the marvellous vegetarian cuisine for which Trigonos is famous, with most of the food being grown on the estate, or locally. Visitors come from far and wide, travelling many miles, to enjoy eating meals with very low food miles in comparison to an average restaurant.

Since we last came here, wi-fi internet access has been extended to the main house from the conference centre. It was, with patience, possible to log on, but there was no internet last night, and today laptop network access was virtually impossible, whereas phones and tablets, albeit slowly, could get on line and stay on line. With a couple of dozen devices seeking an IP address at any time, it's not surprising, a bit like an airport lounge. The phone signal also dipped in an out, so it was impossible to do much more than send texts. To sustain a conversation meant going outdoors and standing in a particular the car park - or else walk thirty yards up the track towards Y Fron Eryri, where it's more consistent. 

I didn't have much need to get on line with a laptop, except to retrieve a file to edit offline. The CBS business user account on the newly upgraded Windows 10 laptop was not fully synced. Since Microsoft operations seem to hate being interrupted they hog internet access until they have done what they want to do, and the house connection was too congested to allow access, it just refused to connect - make any different use impossible - that's what I discovered.

I did however succeed in using the BlackBerry as a wi-fi hotspot for just long enough to grab the file from OneDrive accessed through Firefox, but the signal soon dropped. A bit like using an old fashioned modem, but at least I could finish a final revision done on the job description we've been discussing all week.

 

Snowdonia with Rachel

Owain came over yesterday to spend a 'brother and sister' day together with Rachel, the first opportunity they've had this time around, so Rachel drove them to Ogmore for a walk along the shore, a favourite pastime from years back, and then they went out for supper. This left us with a quiet day to prepare our trip with Rachel to Snowdonia.

My first duty this morning was at eight o'clock at St Catherine's. Clare came too, so that she could be free to have breakfast with Owain and Rachel, when they arose from their night on the town. As I was about to begin I was asked if I could fit in an extra service at St John's before returning to St Catherines for the ten thirty, as the other locum priest was unwell. It's the first time for a long while that I've taken three services in a morning. I wondered how I'd stand up to it, as I do seem more prone to the after effects of cumulative stress these days, but it was fine, nothing to worry about, and by half past twelve, we were heading out of Cardiff up the A470 to Snowdonia for four days at Trigonos, our favourite place to stay in Dyffryn Nantlle.

We started out in rain, and our first task was to get a windscreen wiper blade replaced. The roads were surprisingly quiet, and it didn't rain all the way. We enjoyed a picnic lunch beside a reservoir in the Brecon Beacons, with a flock of pied wagtails busy around the bushes nearby. We arrived at tea time to a warm welcome and some good company and conversation over meals, as is usually the case in Plas Baladeulyn. 

Once again our room looks out over the lake. The last of the hay bundles was being removed from the lakeside meadow, so we missed its exquisite carpet of wildflowers by a few days. But the little blue dragonflies were still around in the garden, and a buzzard family in lakeside trees. Lots of low cloud obscured the peaks and crests above the valley, and Snowdon, making for an ever changing atmosphere of mystery and colour as the sun set. There is clear weather to come while we're here, nevertheless. Rachel is delighted to be here. It's her first visit.

 

 

Springtime in Dyffryn Nantlle

We were out of the house and on our way up the A470 to North Wales by nine thirty this morning, and found only light traffic all the way. The weather was good and everything made for a relaxed and pleasant journey. We stopped for a pub lunch in Caersws, and arrived at Trigonos in Dyffryn Nantlle by three. We noticed once we crossed over the Brecon Beacons bluebells were in bloom everywhere in the hedgerows and mountainsides. Ours in the garden at home were over two weeks ago. 

In Snowdonia the visual impact of rhododendrons, mostly purple, is a striking contrast to bluebell blue. Rhododendrons are an invasive species, imported by the wealthy from the Himalayas in the nineteenth century, and now running wild, regarded as an invasive species. In and around Beddgelert, the National Park authority is taking initiatives to curb if not root them out, before they destroy native species which cannot compete with their vigour.

After unpacking, we walked out by the lake at the bottom of the garden at Plas Baladeulyn, saw several ethereal powder blue dragonflies in the long grass, a fish jumping and two white butterflies mating, one of them had bright yellow wing tips. As well as the sound of blackbirds, robins and chaffinches, we heard the solitary distant voice of a cuckoo. It don't think I've heard one since I was last here three years ago. 

It's very quiet here, and also difficult to get a phone signal in such a deep valley. Nothing from BT and a very poor one from Orange-EE standing in a corner of the car park. So we have to rely on wi-fi, and for that, a short walk from the main house to the neighbourhood around the estate office. The government talks about improving rural internet services, but in some parts of rural Wales mobile reception is in a worse condition. I couldn't help noticing so many UKIP posters on display in this region, symptomatic of disaffection with the Westminster political elite, and for that matter the Cardiff political elite, for failing to deliver resources which have become critical for economic development and success.

Rogation Sunday

This morning I was back on duty for the first time since returning from Spain a month ago. Fortunately I felt well enough to cope with, and enjoy celebrating and preaching at two Eucharists for the East Vale group of churches, at Peterston and St Brides - both of them 'super Ely'. It's exactly six months since I was last there, on the Sunday before I went out to Spain. I enjoyed reporting back on just a little of my experience of the Malaga Semana Santa processions, before talking about the meaning of Rogationtide processions in Britain. Charmingly, the weekly service leaflet of the day at St Brides had a colour photo on the front of such a procession, taken somewhere in the parish at some time in the past. I wish I'd remembered to ask who the parson was, featured in the photo.

With an early start, and a fifteen minute drive, the first service being at nine and the next at ten thirty, I was home before noon, but in need of an horizontal siesta later on. We've decided on an early start tomorrow for our journey to Snowdonia for a half term stay at Trigonos, in Dyffryn Nantlle, so I spent part of the evening packing equipment books and clothes to make the place a home from home to venture from to visit interesting photogenic National Trust properties, hitherto unexplored by us. I just hope the weather won't be too daunting. But I'm taking three books to read in case it rains enough to make excursions unattractive.