Go West!

We've taken ourselves off west for a few days in Pembrokeshire, staying in a 'No dogs allowed' campsite in Dale and doing the sort of boat trips and wildlife trips that only allow two legs per passenger.  We spent today on Skomer Island, our first visit for many years, a bit later in the season than last time.



As soon as we arrived we were warned that the puffins had almost all fledged and set off back to sea.  They are by far the biggest attraction here.  In peak puffin season the cost of overnight island stays doubles and people queue for boat tickets from 6am.

By the end of July it's all much quieter, but it was a lovely warm day (not too sunny to be comfortable) and we saw everything we could reasonably have hoped for.  As we approached the island we saw big groups of puffins sitting on the water, gathering to head out to sea.  Once we landed, we saw more waiting on the cliff edges.  Just around the coast we saw kitiwakes and  fulmars with huge fluffy chicks.  There's just one chick per pair of fulmar each season, so like the 'Little Emperors' produced by China's one child policy they're always tubby and over indulged.  To be fair, in the autumn they have to fly to Argentina, so maybe they deserve to be spoilt for a while. 

Behind us a Herring Gull was trying to scare off a Greater Black Backed Gull while her chick looked on bewildered, sucking his thumb.

As we watched that drama, a parent bird of one of the last unfledged puffin chicks came in with a cargo of sand eels.  It watched us for a moment, then scuttled across the path and into its burrow. 

A little later, a second one came in, and dashed to a burrow right on the edge of the path.  I always wondered how something that lives in a burrow can always look so immaculate, but of course it's because when they emerge they always head straight to sea for a wash.





Around the next headland the Grey Seals were relaxing and waiting for the tide.



 The system for getting out to Skomer has recently been updated.  You can park in the National Trust Carpark (£4 for a car, £6 for a motorhome) and buy a Skomer landing ticket at the reserve office (£8 per adult).  The landing ticket books you a place on the boat, but you need to pay the boatman's £10 fee on board.  The crossing only takes about ten minutes.  The most strenuous part of the visit is the climb up a flight of steep steps from the jetty.

End of an era

I know that everyone whose dog has died insists that their dog really was the best dog ever, but in our case we know it's true.  We've heard it from dog people who really know about dogs, we've heard it from cat people who didn't think they liked dogs, we've heard it from dog owners who wish their dog was more like Scooby...  Today we're not in the mood to hear about any rival candidates for the title.

Scooby Dunstone 1998(?) - 25 July 2011

Yes, we knew his health could change any day, and last weekend it changed.  Scooby's breathing became laboured, he lost his appetite for food and for fun.  On Saturday 23rd he came for a walk and  even had a swim in a pond in the Forest of Dean but he had to do everything slowly, stumbling occasionally and pausing often to catch his breath.  On Sunday he was even worse, coughing and unable to walk very far without puffing.  The vet found his chest to be filled with fluid which impeded his breathing.  We left with a course of diuretics to try to clear the fluid, an attempt to win him a few more weeks.  He spent his last day lying in the sun in a campsite in Wentloog near Cardiff, rising occasionally to stagger to the hedge for a pee (clean and well mannered as ever).

On Monday morning he'd deteriorated further.  He was an action dog, and hated going to the vet, so prolonging and intensifying the treatment in an attempt to win him a few more weeks of life as a gasping invalid clearly wasn't fair.  He invoked his dog privilege and was provided with a swift, painless and dignified exit.

Which leaves us feeling …. oh maybe I'll come back and edit this when I think of a strong enough word for it.  'Upset' will have to do for the moment.  He's been such a big part of our lives for the whole time we've know each other (and longer than that for Stella).  He's inspired us with his lust for life, he's made us laugh, he's comforted us with his loving presence, and he's woven through all our routines.  Everywhere we turn, his absence leaps out at us.

He often used to spot the person sitting in the room who thought they didn't like dogs.  He'd approach them, ignoring their distaste or nervousness, haul himself onto the seat next to them and settle down on their lap with a contented groan.   It seemed a high risk approach but it usually did the trick, and even if they didn't end up thinking of themselves as dog lovers they usually ended up as Scooby lovers.

At times like this you really need a warm heavy chin on your knee and some soft ears to rub. The Beautiful Big Blue Van seems too big with just a crew of two.

The Beautiful Big Blue Van in Britain

Where to start …. another long break in the Blog, lots to catch up on.

We didn't want to go abroad with our poorly dog, and we didn't want to leave him with anyone else, so set off to see some bits of the UK that we've not visited before.

Our loop through Scotland was cut short as we had to return south to Pontefract to attend Stella's Auntie Kath's funeral.  After that, we were ready to resume our travels, but Stella's back suddenly went 'sproing'.  That laid her out for a week, which we spent slowly making our way back to Cardiff to her trusted and reliable physiotherapist.

Loch Lomond was fantastic (and lived up to its reputation).  Arriving in low season we got a fantastic camping pitch with a view across the loch to sun dappled hills.




A few minutes later, the rain started in earnest, the hills disappeared into the cloud and were never seen again.  Once the wind dropped the midges rose like smoke and pressed themselves against our windows like the crowds at the January sales.  In spite of that we had a great time, wrapped up in waterproofs, splashing in puddles and enjoying the quiet woods (and enjoying what we could see of the landscape).

Kath's funeral was as happy an occasion as these things ever can be.  It was good to meet up with the more distant members of Stella's family, some of whom we've not seen for years.  During the short walk following the hearse to the church, the whole village appeared on their doorsteps and joined onto the end of the cortège.  The Vicar's sermon was at times funny as well as moving – it was clear she knew Kath well.  The event ended with tea, cakes and chat in the church, a new innovation especially for Kath who would have loved it.  It was a fitting send off for a lovely, lively and gregarious, not to mention garrulous, woman.  She will be missed by a lot of people.

In some ways its been a frustrating few weeks.  We've had odd appointments and commitments which have meant we've not been able to travel far.  We've made the best of it, kicking around the old county of Glamorgan meeting people, doing errands and being lazy.

We managed to get away to Devon for a few days parked up in Hallsands Bay, a beautiful quiet spot where Richard had spent a couple of memorable weekends diving and fishing for scallops.  It was great to spend a few lovely sunny days there together, even if there were no scallops this time.



Hallsands is just down the road from the village of Dunstone, one of several candidates in Devon for being the ancestral lands.  Since it's in rural Devon, rather than being 'down the road', it's actually down a narrow lane hemmed in by tall stony overgrown embankments and thorn hedges.  The Devon lanes did the Beautiful Big Blue Van's paintwork no good at all.

The Dunstones at Dunstone Farm, Dunstone, Devon

Today we're parked up in a field in north Gower, overlooking Weobley Castle and the Loughor Estuary.  It's a fantastic spot, with the view out to Whitford Point changing all the time as clouds blow past us and the tide ebbs and flows over the marshes.  Richard spent this afternoon having an introductory surfing lesson at Hillend.  Great fun.



Scooby is in fine form.  Eight weeks ago his life expectancy was four to six weeks, but he's still going strong.  We know it could all change any day, but so far so good.  He's still up for a three hour walk, for chasing his ball or having a swim.  He's slowing down a bit, but still having fun and being fun.  Tomorrow we're visiting the vet to get more arthritis tablets for him – a few weeks ago we thought that packet of tablets was going to be a lifetime's supply.

Not surprisingly we've spent a lot of time discussing what we do next.  Since our summer hadn't gone to plan, we felt we owed it to ourselves to extend our travels by a few weeks.  When we looked into the ins and outs, we concluded we might as well extend it through the winter as well.  Better to be living cheaply and travelling in the van with tenants paying our mortgage than sitting at home, maybe unable to get jobs, unable to sell property during the winter, watching our savings going to help bail out HBOS. 

We've offered extended tenancies to the people who are living in our house and our flat, so we're nomads until March.  The Beautiful Big Blue Van rolls on!