Christmas

Fergus is still here

Growing boy

There's no action

A good 'un

More photos

Happy New Year one and all.

The boy is taking up quite a bit of our time at present (and The Ashes are taking up the rest of mine), so to keep you occupied, here are some very cute pictures.

More photos

Some more photos of Fergus are available. He's the smallest one.

More for the album

More Fergus

Fergus Michael Davey

Last days of the Dales

'ello

On the Wednesday we headed to Richmond. As you can see, we saw some odd sights along the way.

We aren't sure what it changed into, but we are sure that the whole thing went off without an argument. Did you know Bill Bryson used to be a journalist in Yorkshire? I wonder if he ever came up with a headline as good as this one?

Richmond is a very beautiful market town in North Yorks, famous mainly for the Geography Field Trip I took there when I was 16. As I recall, I spend an afternoon asking locals if they would like a railway station. They said they would (the railway station having closed in 1969) but sadly, for them, British Rail (it's not called that any more, technically I mean "National Rail") have not seen fit to relay the tracks. So if you want to get to Richmond, you have to take the bus. Or cycle.

Richmond Market Square is a remarkable place. Aside from the Green Howards Regimental Museum I spotted no fewer than many pubs and hotel bars on the market square itself. I mean, I know it can get cold here in the winter, but you could go for a bracing walk or something. You don't have to go to the pub...





Dear old blogger won't let me add any more pictures to this post, so I shall move on.

Tuesday

Perhaps the most beautiful of all. Up from Kirkby Stephen and across Birkdale Common, then down the most marvelous marvel, Swaledale. Keld, Thwaite, Muker (a drink at The Farmers Arms, which is a very fine pub), then the magnificently named Crackpot and back across the Swale at Low Row.

We lunched in Reeth, dumped out panniers at the Black Bull Inn and cycled up Arkengarthdale, via the somewhat alarming descent and ohshitohshitohshit cycle across the Mill Bottom Ford at 30mph faster than you anticipated.

A pint at the Charles Bathurst Inn (no idea) and then we went to Whaw. Oh Daddy, please don't go to Whaw. It's so pointless. And there's no pub in Booze, either. But the scenery is magnificent.

Back to Reeth for dinner.















Colin weighs up his options.



















At this speed, light itself gets distorted.
















Birkdale Beck





Swaledale










































House prices in the North of England remain depressed.

Monday

Colin and I have been on holiday. Some people were aghast when I announced I was going cycling for 5 days and leaving my (very) pregnant wife at home, to which I responded "... er." But Kate was OK with it. Really. And I'll be off for a month after the baby arrives, which will be nice.

So, the holiday. I haven't got a picture of the minicab that took us to Kings Cross, but you can imagine it. Resplendent, glowing and powerful. I think it was a Ford Mondeo. Before we knew it the train has whisked us to Settle.

The Settle to Carlisle railway is one of the most impressive engineering feats of the Victorian age, cutting through some of England's most inhospitable and railwayable terrain. Colin and I opted to celebrate this marvel by getting off the train and travelling (the first part of the route) by bicycle, rather than train.

We can both recommend "Off the rails" cycle hire, at Settle station. If you are in Settle. And want to cycle, of course.

(Incidentally, you may find this a long and unexpectedly boring blog post. Still, unlike Kate you don't have to sit through the entire 3 hour slide show)

The railway runs up Ribblesdale, which turns from torrent to dribble. You will notice, throughout, that the weather in these pictures is ... variable. We had plenty of sun. And plenty of rain, too.

Eventually, you get to the Ribblehead, and you really, really need a beer. Fortunately such eventualities are provided for - The Station Inn is a very fine establishment and England were 71-1 chasing 118 to win (which they would do later that afternoon, by which point we would be in Dentdale)

The main advantage of cycling up Ribblesdale, rather than taking the train, is that you can't really see the viaducts from the train. Ribblehead viaduct is 104 feet high, spans 440 yards and my camera phone is a completely inappropriate device to attempt to capture it on.


The people in this part of the world are incurable optimists. Something to do with the weather, I think.

So Colin and I crossed into Dentdale, found ourselves in Cumbria, had lunch, then headed down to Sedb', up Garsdale and back into Yorkshire. The first site that greets you as you come into God's own county is the Moorcock Inn. A more welcoming sight I can't think of.

Finally, we crossed back into Cumbria and down into the Valley of Eden (not a Dale) and the town of Kirkby Stephen. We were not expecting to find Uther Pendragon's castle at the top if the Eden Valley, but there it was.








Tomorrow you get Swaledale, Arkengarthdale and a picture of Colin crossing a ford!!!

It gets better

M requested photos. We cannot refused requests.

One the left, you can see our living room wall, repainted 'DH Red'. I think the blue painting (something I picked up in Ghana at the negotiations in 2008) works quite well.

Not much else to say really. It's a wall. We painted it red.

Below you can see a step, which is blue. We call it the 'blue step'. The white blobs need painting over, but other than that it's finished. Rebuilt from scratch. Solid as a solid-thing, rather than rotten to the core (the previous incarnation had passed its use-by date).

"So what", you say. "It's just a bloomin' step!". Well, yes, and no. On the one hand, a step it is. On the other hand, take the lid off and it's a storage space! Incredible.

Scilly

We have just got back from here. Beautiful, isn't it?

We got married!

OK, so if you've been paying attention then we got married on May 4th 2008. Which was some time ago.

Kate has downloaded a rather wonderful piece of software called Picasa, which is basically an extension of Google's efforts at world domination, but it is so convenient and quick to use. So we have (through no effort of mine) a set of photos of the wedding online to look at, if you like the kind of thing.

Warning - There are many of these. It may bore you to tears, or crash your PC.

New (old) photos

Nearly two years ago I was lucky enough to go to Copenhagen, for an EEA meeting on Reporting. OK, the EEA meeting wasn't all that exciting, though we did get to look at some really groovy spreadsheets.

I also took some really, really bad photos

Edinburgh Festival Picks

In reverse order

The Gently Progressive Behemoth. Witty micro-sketches. Or something. (I got on stage!)
Eurobeat. Brilliant Eurovision parody, worth it for 'Iceland' alone.
A Beginners Guide to German Humour. Very funny indeed.

Simon Munnery was patchy, Andrew O'Neall a bit better and I really didn't get the Turing Test Opera, though Kate liked it. I think anyone interested in neurolinguistics would find it hard to resist screaming out "That isn't how you program an AI!" or something similar.

1 and a half days isn't enough to enjoy it all really. Indeed, I don't imagine a month is long enough. Definitely doing back next year.

It goes on

Hello

Still in Bonn, but just about to stop negotiating and start cycling. The weather was regnerisch but now it is beautifully sunny and I can't wait to get on my bike and head up the Mosel.