The purple-headed mountain, the river running by...

A strong candidate for the purple-headed mountain of Cecil Alexander's famous hymn is Blorenge, near Abergavenny, which I photographed last summer from the Sugar Loaf Mountain car park. The 'river running by' would be the Usk.

I first climbed Blorenge during a holiday in 2009 – or rather, I strolled up it, as there are two car parks near the top. Now that we live less than an hour's drive from Abergavenny, the eastern end of the Brecon Beacons has become a popular destination, so last Monday S-- and I braved the bank holiday traffic and returned for a leisurely 6-mile walk around the hill, ending with a nice stiff climb up the western side.



The walk had a serious purpose. One of my trusty old walking boots recently fell apart, so I had to buy a new pair. Very nice they are, too – and a bargain at £40 from Scott's in Lydney – but far too pristine for a seasoned long-distance hiker like your humble blogger. I ask you, how's this girl going to get any 'cred' on the mountain and forest tracks, wearing shoes that look as if the hardest trek I've tackled is walking up the high street? Unfortunately for me, Blorenge isn't a great place for mud. It would have to be sought with diligence!




Keeper's pond looked a likely hunting ground, so I eschewed the nice smooth path on the right and took to the rough ground on the left, but without any great success. The pond once supplied water to a forge in the valley. You may just be able to make out the car park, in the middle distance, where we started the walk.

Our path skirted the hillside, with lovely views of the Usk Valley and Sugar Loaf on the other side, then descended to join the track of an old mineral tramway.

Soon into view came a sight to gladden Angie's heart – a tunnel!  I'm not sure why I find old railway and tramway tunnels so fascinating, since deep caves and potholes hold no appeal.  Perhaps it's the knowledge that there will always be daylight at the other end. They also evoke happy memories of our children running through them, making loud "puff puff" noises.

Yes, it was quite muddy down there!  

The next two photos show the view over Abergavenny, with Skirrid in the middle distance. I've included the second, from my holiday in 2009, as it was taken with my little Fuji camera, which I still have, though rarely use. After singing the praises of the camera on my new smartphone, I've begun to have second thoughts. The Fuji, with no modern technical wizardry and only a modest lens, has produced a lovely shot that needed no photo enhancement... all of which goes to show, I think, that lighting and composition are far more important. It's also good to have an optical zoom lens, especially when trying to film things on the opposite side of a wide valley.

A little further round the hillside is the tranquil Punchbowl Lake. From here it was up... up... up to the summit where, unfortunately, the mist came down, down, down and rather spoiled the view.  Never mind; it was a great walk and I will return.

Mission accomplished!

,

Matilda Tertius

My first satnav quickly acquired the name Matilda as it was apt to tell the most dreadful lies. Perhaps you know the poem that inspired it:

Matilda told such dreadful lies, 

it made one gasp and stretch one’s eyes. 

Her Aunt, who, from her earliest youth, 

had kept a strict regard for truth, 

attempted to believe Matilda; 

the effort very nearly killed her 

and would have done so, had not she

 discovered this infirmity...

After giving useful service (most of the time) Matilda was retired in favour of an app on my new Samsung smartphone, which henceforth became known as Matilda Secundus, or Matilda Too for short – not a spelling mistake; it means Matilda also. She gave fine service for two years, but just before Christmas began playing up — doubtless because I'd dropped it once or twice too often.

Last year my partner S- signed up for a Sony E5 smartphone from Virgin. It wouldn't have been my first choice but the deal was a good one, and since it mainly gets used for emails and Facebook, any old thing would surely do, so long as it was cheap. However, my opinion of the E5 quickly changed when, last summer, we climbed Pen-y-Fan and each recorded our exploits. The E5 photos from the summit were at least as good as the ones I took with my Canon SX500 bridge camera, and a couple of them were markedly better.

So last month I turned my back on Samsung and ordered a Sony E5 for myself from Talk Mobile. At £10 per month for 2 years, including more data, texts and phone minutes than I'll ever need, it was actually £2 a month cheaper than Matilda Secundus, so I'm not quite sure whether it qualifies as an 'upgrade'. Perhaps 'regrade'.

One feature of the Samsung that I miss is the 'home' button beneath the screen. To wake the E5 from its slumbers I have to briefly press a small, rather fiddly, power button on the side. I note, though, that Samsung have also dropped the home button on their new S8; a retrograde step in my view. Apart from that, there really is little to choose between the two phones... except for the camera. Samsung's offering had the same resolution (13 megapixels) as the Sony, but all reviews admit that the Sony produces better photos. The question uppermost in my mind, though, was whether it would be a suitable replacement on country walks for my rather bulky Canon SX500.

My first test was a nasty one – a view of Quainton Road station, taken from a distant bridge and looking into the sun. This showed all too clearly the deficiencies of smartphone cameras; they are not good in challenging lighting and they only have a digital zoom, so the more one zooms, the poorer the picture quality. I'm sure you'll agree that the Canon wins hands-down.

Sony E5

Canon SX500

In less challenging conditions Matilda Tertius performs very well, bearing out my earlier experience on Pen-y-Fan. Here are a couple of shots from a recent stroll in the Mendips. I should have taken more, but was still mostly placing my faith in my trusty Canon SX500.

Bluebells at Ebbor Gorge

My friend Lucy in Priddy

Look carefully at that last photo. Do you see a faint white blur in the bottom left corner? That's the smartphone case encroaching on the camera lens — definitely something to guard against in the future.

Of Matilda Tertius' two deficiencies – poor in challenging light and no optical zoom – the later would be the easiest to correct with a simple clip-on lens like this one from Amazon. It's small enough to fit in a handbag, or even a pocket, and at that price is surely worth a try... or is it just too cheap? I mean, what sort of lens do you get for £13.99?

Alternatively, there's this little monster, which doesn't use the smartphone lens at all, but connects via Bluetooth. There's just one tiny drawback – it costs £320, or £165 second-hand from Amazon. That's rather an expensive piece of hardware to clip onto a cheap smartphone, even one with the up-market name of Matilda Tertius.

. 

My latest tattoo

If you have a butterfly tattooed on the back of your neck, a heart adorning your left buttock, or even Death and Glory emblasoned across your chest, then God bless you.  Such artistry is not, however, to my taste. I prefer my tattoos in more subtle places... places where I'll rarely, if ever, see them.  Allow me to explain.

Every couple of years, people in my age group are invited to take a test for bowel cancer — known affectionately as the poo test.  It's all wonderfully simple.  You do it yourself in the privacy of your home and post off a few small samples of poo, which are then tested for traces of blood. 2% of tests will yield a positive result and this will trigger an investigation to find out what is causing the bleeding.

Just over 3 years ago I found myself among the "2%" and was advised to have a colonoscopy – basically a camera on a long hosepipe, stuck up my bum — to investigate the problem.  They found a tubular adenoma (polyp) that was thankfully benign but showed early signs of structural change. As you can imagine, I was very glad to be rid of it. The spot where the polyp had been was marked with a tattoo – the first I'd ever had!

Since I have a proven tendency to produce bowel polyps, I was automatically recalled after 3 years for another colonoscopy.  The procedure was the same as last time.  After a day on a low fibre diet, I had to give up all food and instead drink 4 litres of a strong laxative (Klean Prep) to clear out my bowel, and at least a further 3 litres of liquid to prevent dehydration.  Believe me, that's a lot of liquid! Three years ago, several friends told me to expect violent, uncontrollable diarrhoea but it really wasn't too bad.  By the 4th litre of laxative, though, I admit to loathing the taste, even with the addition of generous quantities of lime juice.

For the procedure itself I accepted a mild sedation. One lady I heard of said that she nodded off completely; others described a sense of detached euphoria. And me?  Well it must have worked since I felt nothing uncomfortable, though I wasn't aware of being sedated. I chatted with the nurse throughout and contentedly watched the camera view on the monitor.  And yes, there was my little tattoo from 3 years ago.

This is what polyps look like in the early stages. I'll leave you
to Google photos of later ones. They're not at all nice.

This time the colonoscopy revealed another polyp, which they removed and marked the spot with a tattoo, so now I have two. Earlier today a cheery nurse phoned to tell me that the polyp was, as they had suspected, benign. However, since it was again a tubular adenoma, and these can turn cancerous, they want me back in 3 years' time.

I've heard of people refusing the poo test as it's rather messy, and if something is wrong then they don't wish to know about it. They're entitled to their opinion, of course, though I do think it extremely foolish.  My mum's sister died of bowel cancer in her early 70's and it wasn't a pleasant death.  I have often thought that, if these tests had been available in her day, she might have lived for many more years.

I have subsequently discovered several other members of the "2% Club". Three people at church, and even my sister-in-law and her husband, have also failed the dreaded poo test and had colonoscopies.  Perhaps, for those of my vintage, one might even call it a right of passage.