~ Apollo Bay ~

Mirage magazine and AFM have been consuming all my writing juices.  For respite we decided to escape to the country/sea for the weekend. In the hills of Apollo Bay we observed seven rainbows, there was one that danced around the valley...

Wrapped in Cape Schanck

Sometimes, well most of the time its good to get away, there is great merit in allowing the forces of nature to remind you of how beautiful it is and insignificant you are. When you remove yourself from the man made concrete jungle to the baron expanse of a cliff edge, you allow the wind to blow away your non-existent woes and the sun to revitalise.






Cape Schanck Lighthouse does tours - if you get there early enough!

Horsing around

I like to escape the bubble of east London as much as possible; it is good for the soul. Country air blows perspective into life and makes all the inconsequential matters appear less visible. Ever since I missed the opportunity of the play scheme trip to go horse riding aged 10, I have been trying to make it up to myself. I long to be able to ride well, a heroine in a fantasy masterpiece, mounting my stead with assured dexterity before galloping off a impressive pace to save those in peril. Perhaps a symptom my dreams have been punctuated by horse based adventures of late. I was delighted to be invited to Coggeshall or Coggashael (as referred to in the Doomsday book), with Emma, to visit her family. The town, a Roman settlement dating from 31BC, is founded on ancient lay lines. It has three pubs, two local food stores and a dog shit alley, no town is complete without a dog shit alley. This particular alley connects the Woolpack pub (home of rowdy locals dancing on the bar to karaoke) to Emma's house, convenient when staggering home in the dark. Post staggering I woke early with excitement today was the day horsey and I would become one. It didn’t go quite to plan, my horse sensing my inability decided to play up a little, I was so happy to be straddled to the horse it could have bucked me and I wouldn’t have minded. The lesson began and my thighs and balance simultaneously sprung into action, I desperately wanted to acquire as much skill as soon as humanly possible. I’ve been on horses before, however it wasn’t quite the same; trekking horses follow the same route most days and require little direction. I had to lead the horse, cajoling into submission whilst I bounced purposely in rhythm. It was wonderful I wanted more; posthumously I was glad I didn’t. For three days post ride I took a john Wayne stance as my inner thighs recovered from such a feat, even an hour and a half walk home from work did little to ease the ache. Now the recovery is complete I look to the future with relish as the prospect of my next dalliance looms closer.


Foal and I chewing the fat, out of the 68 horses at Raine Riding School I think he liked me the most.


The Chapel Inn, 16th Century, the heart of town, this is where all the action occurs.

The conservative club, I didn't stumble accross a labour club.. nice building, shame about the contents.
I want to live in a house like this
T
The halloween weather lingers as the night draws in a truly mystical experience

Blow the cobwebs away

Our visit to Bath was thwarted by Jane Austin enthusiasts, which had over run the whole town in a once yearly weekend celebration. Poor timing or a subliminal call to visit my second home, after missing our train, purchasing a new single and incurring a hefty taxi charge in the process we finally boarded the train. We sensed the weekend might not necessarily be on the right track, pulling up at a green light, in time for it to turn red. However the moment we hit Temple Meads the sun comes out to greet us, we've left the dreary weather behind. Our first stop St Nick's market, Lucy's flower stall, then over to Arnolfini to catch up with Jess.


I delight myself with the cycle merry go round, easily pleased, all part of Bristol cycle festival.

The beautiful Natalie post pizza, smiles all round

Glen showing us how to roll on a boat, horizontal is good


After polenta chips and delicious pizza in the gallery cafe we began our loop round the harbor, it was a perfect autumn day, we stop off at the Cottage Inn and bask in the sun as we watch the sailing competition. Glen joins us at the Pump House before heading back to the centre via a ferry, being on a boat was the ultimate a holiday vibe, complete with good-looking ticket vendor. Back on the mainland we headed up to Castle Park, stopping off at Boulangerie to stock up on the best vegetarian sausage rolls I know. On a slope near the main walkway we observe a young couple dry humping in plain view, I was confused by chosen the location for said humping, right next to a children's playground, in between a major car park and the centre of town. We sat for a while and observed various reactions of passersby, two elderly ladies, a middle class man, and a family with a little girl, bizarre. Next stop Portland Square for the Bristol Do an excellent little circus themed festival event. Thoroughly entertaining for all ages, we sat on the lawn in St Paul's park as watched two rather talents rope based performances. Heading out of the cozy family festival we hit the frontline of St Paul's, all buzzed up we saw two boys playing with a spade on some common land, we joked, are you doing some gardening? "Nope were burying our pigeon", you couldn't make it up. The Duke was next on the agenda for a cheeky game of pool, alas upstairs had been taken over by a hoe down, a live music session, there were four guitars all going at it, we soaked up some of the sound and headed into the garden for smoking.




Sunday followed on from Saturday night, hung-over, awoken by my phone ringing energetically, we ushered each other into the car and off to Cheddar car boot. Arriving in time to walk to the lake and an take in a sea of stacked up boot tables, we were a tad too late and consoled ourselves with a full english at the Olive Tree. Contented we headed up to the gorge via a steep and rocky path, once at the top my three comrades and I marveled in the view. I miss my walks in the country, it was fantastic to have such a sense of space, with the wind blowing from every direction.


We stood out against the usual walker attire, which isn't necessarily a bad thing