Harp Scratchings 9 - The Jug and Bottle

Tending the dolls on the Harp's top bar doorstep, the Jug and Bottle behind the open door.

In my world, growing up, the Harp Inn seemed like the village meeting point – a welcoming place for the locals to gossip with neighbours and play a game of skittles or dominoes while enjoying a drink. The problem with that was that there were no secrets – everyone knew what the other was up to and perhaps rather more than the odd person would have liked.

Despite the joviality of the welcoming setting around the coal fire, there were those who preferred to keep their drinking habits private. Hence the “Jug and Bottle” – a small, frosted sliding glass window accessible from the pub entrance with a “direct line” to the innkeeper behind the bar and unseen from customers on the other side of the counter.

The air of secrecy created by the squeaking window always intrigued me and when I helped Dad in my teenage years behind the bar I would feel a mild anticipation when summoned by that knowing tap to serve an unknown shadow behind the glass.

Those who frequented the Jug and Bottle often made their own personal statement when announcing their presence. For instance a couple of soft rat-a-tat-tats on the window and Dad knew that would be Auntie Lil wanting a couple of bottled Guinness to take home. She didn’t want her son to know even though he was already holding court in the bar.

The school teacher often kept half a bottle of whisky at home for medicinal purposes but kept her replenishing missions private from prying eyes via the Jug and Bottle. Those who had given up smoking used the Jug and Bottle as an emergency means to purchase a packet of Woodbines when they had fallen off the wagon.

Village kids would bang noisily on the window in their quest for crisps and vimto, or bored, would knock, then run away once the window was opened.

Errant husbands were sometimes summoned by proxy – “Bill, you tell him he’d better come home soon or else ..." Dad would obligingly pass the message on from exasperated wife to a husband full of cheer up until that precise moment.

One Christmas a group of carollers knocked on the frosted window and began their repertoire once it slid open. They were immediately welcomed into the top bar so that everyone could see as well as hear their singing. Some of the younger members of the troupe were very nervous by all the attention they were receiving and the pressure of the performance in front of a festive audience. I vowed never to join their choir unless we could sing in the secrecy of the Jug and Bottle.

Serengeti - An Endless Plain

The name Serengeti comes from the Maasai word “Siringet” meaning “endless plain” and the experience of standing on the southern grass plains of the Serengeti National Park is one of vastness. The knowledge that the area contains one of the greatest, if not the greatest, concentration of plains animals left on earth is amazing.

The plains were formed 3–4 million years ago when ash blown from volcanoes in the Ngorongoro highlands covered the rolling landscape. A thick layer of ash preserved traces of early man and established the rich soil which supports the southern grass plains today.

We were in the midst of a week-long safari encompassing Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania. This story recounts our experiences during one of those memorable days.

With no telephone in our room at the Lodge, the early morning wake-up call was someone banging on the door – but we were ready. We had been studying the sky from our balcony – it was clear and full of stars but in the distance lightning flashed. Walking up to the main lodge, morning tea had been set out in one of the sitting areas and everyone appeared for the morning game drive. It was cool.

The first signs of dawn appeared in the sky as we left the Lodge – Fiscal and Magpie Shrike darted in the thorn bushes. We were amazed by the variety of birds active at this time of the day – the White Bellied “go away” Bird (because of its cry), Ring Necked Doves, Long Tailed Starling, Black Winged Stilt, Blacksmith and Ground Plovers, Lilac Breasted Roller (particularly beautiful bird), Yellow Necked Longclaw, Brown Snake and Bateleur Eagle.

Giraffe, Zebra, Buffalo, Thomson & Grant’s Gazelle, Impala, Guinea Fowl, Hartebeest, Hippo, Verdant Monkeys, Hyena, Rock Hyrex, Silver Backed Jackals, Topi, including Lion and Leopard footprints, were early sightings on the morning drive.

Thomson’s Gazelle, in particular, were a wonderful sight - they are colourful, graceful and in large numbers - running and leaping with ease through the grass. Their speed seems unmatched but we were reminded that the Cheetah is the fastest creature on earth.

A Cheetah can only sustain its speed for short periods of time and has to hunt its prey wisely. The Gazelle, while slower, is a distance runner. Even so, the poor Tommy appears to be the “weetabix” of the Serengeti.

A Hyena was sighted running with a recently killed Tommy clamped firmly between its jaws. Our guide explained that when a Cheetah kills a Gazelle, it devours as much of it as quickly as possible because Hyena, who are creatures of opportunity, will challenge the Cheetah and steal the kill. The cry of the Hyena is bloodcurdling.

We spotted a flock of vultures hovering ominously over something on the ground. Another Tommy was being consumed by a Jackal, but the lone Jackal was frightened away by the Vultures, about 12–15 of them, who pounced on the carcass, tearing it apart.
We were within feet of this spectacle and their devouring of the carcass was hard to describe - the Vultures kicked up the dust as they fought one another for a piece of the kill.

In the distance a lone Hyena recognized its opportunity and ran through the Vultures, snatching the carcass and taking off in a flash.

We returned to the Lodge for breakfast and a rest before the afternoon game drive.

Soon we were in the midst of Topi, Cape Buffalo, Impala, Zebra, Reedbuck, Egyptian Geese, Yellow Necked Spurfowl and Heron -- and then one of the most memorable sights of all – a female Cheetah and her two cubs feeding on a Tommy.

A flock of Vultures waited patiently on a nearby termite mound.

We were so close, observing every nuance – we just couldn’t take our eyes off mother and cubs.

When they had had their fill the family walked gracefully away, the mother’s belly protuding, her cubs stopping periodically to wash one another’s faces.

Today would be slim pickings for the Vultures.

Ngorongoro Crater

The view from above the 12 mile wide and 2000 foot deep Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania is impressive, the Crater being the remnant of an ancient volcano that erupted and collapsed more than two million years ago, creating a huge stone-lined bowl.

The Crater has been compared to Noah’s Ark and the Garden of Eden, but as the Lonely Planet guide remarks, Noah may be a bit disappointed by dwindling animal numbers these days. However, in our opinion Noah would have no trouble finding Lion, Elephant, Rhino, Buffalo, Wildebeest, Thomson’s Gazelle, Zebra, Reedbuck, Hippo, Hyenas (spotted and striped) and thousands of Flamingo wading in the shallows of Lake Magadi – the soda lake on the Crater floor.

The Maasai have cattle grazing rights on the hillsides surrounding the Crater – hence its designation as a conservation area rather than a national park. This was one of the Government’s grand experiments to maintain the integrity of wildlife in the Crater while giving the Maasai as much freedom as possible.

We were unable to get a specific translation for “Ngorongoro”. All meanings relate to its shape - a Maasai word meaning “cow bell”, “grinding bowl" or "mortar”.

Our Lodge was located on the rim of the Crater and next morning we set off in Land Rovers to begin our descent down through the bush to the Crater floor and were thrilled to see Elephant grazing on the side of the road.

Leopard spotting began in earnest. Leopards hunt at dusk and dawn and attempt to get their kill up into a yellow acacia or fig tree as quickly as possible where they spend the day. Leopards are harder to see in acacia trees because their yellow and black coats blend in so well – they are slightly easier to see in green fig trees, but sadly today was not to be the day.

We crossed the Munge River and resting by one of its streams were several lions who casually walked towards us, plopped themselves down for a few minutes in the shade of our vehicle and then interested by something else, meandered away over a narrow stream and out of sight.

The numbers of wildlife in the Crater were astonishing – no sight greater than when our vehicle stopped in the midst of countless Wildebeest and Zebra. Wildebeest is the Lion’s favourite food. The Wildebeest is referred to as “the joker” because it has the horns of a buffalo, the body of a giraffe and the tail of a horse.

At such close quarters the Zebra looked very fat and our guide explained that they produce large amounts of gas and were not necessarily pregnant, although some were. Zebra manes in this group were reddish in colour whereas on the Serengeti the manes were shorter and darker. Lions hunt Zebra too, but have to be careful because the Zebra’s kick is vicious and can smash a Lion’s jaw. Zebra foals are able to walk within minutes of being born and are capable of running within ten minutes in the event of danger.

And then a special sight – a hippo pool containing two dozen of these seemingly loquacious creatures. We couldn’t decide whether they were yawning or just plain talking to one another as they opened and closed their enormous mouths, some of them appearing to bite one another. The Hippos’ underbelly is pink and they spend their days in the water to protect their skins from the sun, coming out to forage by night.

Approaching Lake Magadi, Flamingoes congregated on the water’s edge. A lone Hyena padded through the shallows in the hope of catching an errant Flamingo.

A Jackal had been successful earlier, crunching happily on an unfortunate bird, feathers protruding from its mouth.

The circle of life continued.

Galapagos Magic

Blue Footed Boobie - The Galapagos Poster Child

The Galapagos Islands are truly fascinating because of their diversity. Ocean tides, currents and winds have all influenced their animal inhabitants and the natural features of each island – as we would discover during our January 2008 visit.

All the more fascinating is that the reptiles, birds, mammals and marine life present have evolved over time, living in relative isolation with few predators.

The Galapagos Islands have a long history – pirates used the Islands to regroup, hide treasure, take on supplies and giant tortoises (for food) in the 1600s.

In 1835 HMS Beagle brought Charles Darwin to the Islands. Darwin spent five weeks studying the fauna learning that it was possible to distinguish which island a tortoise came from by the shape of its shell. He observed that a species adapts to its environment as necessary to survive, publishing his theory in the Origin of Species in 1859.

In 1959 Ecuador declared the Galapagos Islands a national park and in 1964 the Charles Darwin Research Station opened on Santa Cruz as a centre for education and conservation.

Barking Sea Lion on North Seymour

Marine Iguana - unique to the Galapagos and a perfect example of Darwin's theory

Arriving from Quito on mainland Ecuador, our week-long adventure on board the Celebrity Xpedition took us from Baltra to the islands of North Seymour, Espanola, Santa Cruz, Bartolome, Isabela, Fernandina, Santiago, San Cristobal and Floreana. Our treks ashore were led in small groups by knowledgeable guides from the Galapagos Parks Service.

Sally Lightfoot Crab - black at birth to hide from predators, it becomes yellow and orange at maturity

Every day a variety of land excursions were offered - from low, medium to high intensity.

Land Iguana can live up to 60 years

There were wet and dry landings via zodiac, snorkelling and swimming and every night after dinner informative talks were given on the following day’s activities.

This was not a “lounging around” cruise by any means – more like boot camp, but you came back wanting more marvelling at both the harshness and perfection of nature.

Fur Seal is not shy about hijacking a fishing boat as a place to nap

We had not been expecting how different every island would be – in fact every day really was a brand new adventure and a joy to experience.

Giant Tortoise which can weigh up to 500 lbs and live well over 100.

Suffice it to say - a picture is worth a thousand words.

Timeless Petra

The Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan is a tiny country bordered by Israel, Syria, Iraq, Saudi Arabia and the Gulf of Aqaba.

We had arrived in Jordan to visit the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Petra, the ancient capital of the Nabataeans who dominated in pre-Roman times, carving elaborate buildings and tombs out of solid rock.

Petra is now one of the new Seven Wonders of the World but lay hidden from Westerners until 1812 when it was discovered by a Swiss explorer.

Much of Petra’s fascination comes from its mountainous setting on the edge of Wadi Araba which stretches from the Gulf of Aqaba to the Dead Sea.

Petra lies in rugged, rust coloured sandstone which forms a well-protected canyon, accessible through a narrow gorge, or Siq.

Arriving in Petra we travelled down a winding dusty pathway on horseback to the beginning of the Siq. From here we began our walk through the Siq’s winding passageways, its mountainous walls towering above us.

After about an hour our guide asked us to close our eyes before turning the final corner. It was a revelation – framed in the sky-high rock on either side of us was the magnificent Al Khazneh - the Treasury building.

It was one of those "wow" moments and inadequate as that sounds, we were in good company. Steven Spielberg had chosen the Treasury six years earlier as a setting for Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Like all rock-hewn monuments in Petra, it is the facade of the Treasury that captivates despite the fact that many of its architectural details have eroded over time.

Well protected from the elements, the Treasury was carved to serve as a tomb but received its name from the legend that bandits hid their spoils in a stone urn within the structure.

Beyond the Treasury the canyon widens to expose an amphitheatre and numerous tombs carved in the rock face.

The sandstone’s colouring changed throughout the day as the sun’s position moved. Hot and dusty, we took one last lingering look at the Treasury before turning to enter the Siq for the return journey to Aqaba which took us through Wadi Rum, stomping grounds of the enigmatic T.E. Lawrence.

Sunrise Paddle

When we planned our sunrise paddle on the Nicomekl River it had been the height of a lingering hot summer. July and August had been relentlessly sunny with very little rain. Getting up early and being on the water as dawn was breaking over the pastoral 1894 Stewart Farm sounded idyllic. No more than a mile from our house, an adventure yet to be experienced. We couldn’t wait.

The word Nicomekl is a Sto:lo word, meaning "the route to go" or "pathway" and was first documented in writing during an 1824 Hudsons Bay Company expedition to the Fraser River.

As our own paddle day drew closer summer ended abruptly. More rain fell in two days than during the entire summer. The next morning we had to be up by 5 a.m. and when the alarm went off we both groaned, wondering why we were doing this. The only souls pleased to see us up at that hour were the cats – early breakfasts all round. It was pitch black outside, but fortunately the rain had diminished to a light intermittent drizzle from the deluge during the night.

We drove to the Stewart Farm entrance to find the gate locked but soon connected with Laura our paddle leader in the boat house near the river. The next task was to move the kayak trailer closer to the dock and carry our kayaks down to the water. Soon we were paddling towards Crescent Beach marina and Blackie Spit. The current was amazingly strong so there were not too many opportunities to coast.

A lone heron swooped over us curiously, landing in a tree which overhung the river. Ducks paddled across the river, unperturbed by our presence. A seal popped his head up from the surface and eyed us for a while, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

The dramatic sunrise we had mused about was instead a sky heavy with fast moving clouds, a palette of charcoal and blue-grey. Suddenly the glass-like surface of the water was pierced with raindrops.

It was as though a thousand pebbles were falling in unison from the sky. Within minutes the rain had stopped and the wind played with us as it gusted across the river.

It was very difficult to stay in a straight line, no matter how steadily we paddled. The current added to the workout but soon we had a rhythm going and had reached the railway bridge with Mud Bay beyond it. Paddling under the bridge we could see Blackie Spit from a completely different perspective. One of our favourite walks, this was the first time we had seen it from the water.

Several hours later we arrived back at the dock and helped put the equipment away, coffee and a bacon sandwich on the horizon.

Harp Scratchings 8 - Never on a Sunday

The Harp from the meadow - open for business

At one time licensed premises were not allowed to open on Sundays in Wales. I believe that edict also applied to other retail outlets but what that meant in the village of Glasbury was that the pub and the two village shops on our side of the river were “out of bounds” on Sundays – at least officially.

It’s really interesting how the village network operated. If Mum was in desperate need of some grocery item because of an unexpected bed and breakfaster, a knock on the back door for the required item was generally all that was needed, as long as one didn’t behave outside the bounds of propriety – for instance interrupting Sunday dinner or being public about the transaction.

I recall that was the state of play at the Harp. With the blackout blinds drawn down at the front of the pub to indicate the business was closed, Dad obliged the dire need of some of his trusted regulars on Sundays now and again.

I digress for a moment to mention that the blackout blinds were a relic of wartime when German bombers flew overhead to the factories of Hereford. Dad was with the 8th Army in Italy and North Africa during World War 2 and Mum had the job of managing the Harp.

She often worried about her sisters who worked at the Hereford munitions factory and in later years mocked the US Army officers billeted at Glasbury castle. “They think they can buy us with nylon stockings and chocolate” she would be heard to mutter when talk in the bar turned to wartime memories.

On any given Sunday, the front door entrances to the Harp were bolted, the blinds were drawn but the cellar door at the side of the property was left unlocked.

The Harp was a “free house” which meant it was not owned by any particular brewery and Dad as “owner operator” could deal with whoever he wished. A steep concrete ramp with stairs built into the structure provided the means by which the various suppliers would roll their barrels from street level down to the cellar, through the cellar door and into dispensing position. Mum and Dad used the cellar for various things besides bar supplies – laundry, storing feedstock for pigs, fowl and of course our two dogs as well as gardening supplies.

I didn’t like the cellar, it was dark and damp and the place of nightmares. So when a thirsty local appeared from the depths of the cellar, stepping apologetically through our scullery and into one of the blacked out bars it would catch me off guard.

I was very young when all this activity went on and have vague memories of what took place but I do seem to recall the village constable parking his bike by the cellar door and appearing on the scene once. I am not sure whether it was to join in the Sunday session or to issue Dad with a warning not to get caught again.

As with all things, they change. Soon Sunday opening was commonplace. That led to other problems. Sunday hours were restricted to a short late morning opening and a second evening opening.

Everyone seemed to enjoy a Sunday drink, whether it was after church, a pre-Sunday lunch nip or to obtain the hair of the dog from the previous night's activities. As you would expect, there were those who opposed the activity because it got in the way of family members being present and correct for Sunday dinner when they overstayed their welcome at the pub.

Mrs. Meale who lived three houses down from the Harp was so angry on one particular Sunday when her husband didn’t appear at the appointed time that she brought his beef dinner, complete with vegetables, Yorkshire pudding and gravy, and was observed by the entire bar hurling the plate at the front of the Harp along with some colourful language.

Dad did sell pork pies, pickled onions and crisps (potato chips) but I don’t remember whether Mr. Meale actually felt like eating after being embarrassed so badly.