Heading North, not South

I should, as I type this, be on a ferry in the middle of the North Sea, en route to Denmark to start the first leg of Short Way Round, my motorcycle trip round the edge of Europe from the very top of Denmark to Istanbul and beyond. For all you know, I may be on that ferry. But I’m not, I’m at home. Short Way Round is postponed, in favour of an equally big adventure on a different continent.

Those of you with long memories may recall me banging on about my Winston Churchill Travelling Fellowship in 2001, following in the footsteps of David Douglas (Google him), botanist and plant collector (1799-1834). This adventure is to do some unfinished business from my Fellowship and start an entirely new project.

Context first. In 1827 Douglas set off from Fort Vancouver on the Columbia River in the Pacific Northwest with the voyageurs of the Hudson’s Bay Company to travel east across the continent. Their destination was York Factory, the HBC’s eastern supply base for the fur trade in the Canadian sub-arctic, from which Douglas was to sail on an HBC ship back to England. They made it, walking and birch-bark canoeing. D caught the ship and made it safe home for further adventures before a gory end on Hawaii in 1834 (I’ve stood where he died and at his grave in Honolulu).

York Factory is still there (Google it) and almost as hard to access now as in 1827. There’s no road or rail link; there’s no electricity and no food, apart from what you bring in. But I’m going there in the summer, with two colleagues (one from Scotland and one from Oregon) to start filming a television documentary on Douglas.

None of us have been to York Factory before; indeed it only gets about 70 visitors a year. Only being open for 3 months of the year, frozen tight the rest of the year and at risk of polar bear attack may have something to do with that of course! It’s only about 60 miles south of Churchill, where the bears congregate in the town waiting for the sea to freeze (it’s still frozen now).

The route runs something like, fly to Winnipeg, fly further north in a smaller plane, get a Greyhound bus for three hours on a gravel road to (literally) the end of the road. Then get an even smaller plane (5-seater, float plane I suspect) to fly to York Factory. Then do it all in reverse 3 days later.

And in due course there’ll be more filming to fill in more of the blanks of the Douglas story.

This is an opportunity which has been a long time coming and can’t be turned down. Short Way Round, on the other hand, can be done ‘later’. And it’s only postponed, not ‘off’. I’m really looking forward to this; can you guess?!!

Fort Brassica

At last planting has got under way, with cabbages (spring, round and red) and cauliflower. We love red cabbage. Monty Don describes it as being only slightly ahead of boiled rat in culinary acceptability, at least by his children. All I can say is they've never had any of ours, cooked with red wine, apple and marmalade. Yummy.

But growing brassicas round here is an iffy business on account of they pigeons, curse 'em. I've tried various half-baked approaches with dangling CDs to scare them off but I think they treat them as vanity mirrors; certainly doesn't scare them off. And I've nearly broken my neck innumerable times getting my feet tangled up in the netting I've carefully draped over the cabbages to keep pigey off. None of it is much good.

The best I've found so far is Fort Brassica, constructed from uprights of chicken wire, lovingly garnished with tatty old netting and tenderly enrobed with string. Let's see the beggars get through that.

Running low on blood sugar by the end of the afternoon and lacking the energy to construct a smaller version for the cauliflower plot, I cobbled together Mark 2. The observant among you will notice what were once wardrobe drawers from IKEA forming a key part of the construction.

Lest you think I idle my time away just pratting about with cabbages, chicken wire and string I should show you my other pride and joy. Just look at these mangetout; sown in a gutter at home (no, it wasn't attached to the house at the time, honestly, you do take this too seriously sometimes) and raised in the conservatory. Then simply slid into a wee trenchette and Bob is your father's brother. Still need plenty of anti-pigeon fortifications though.

I've also discovered another reader, just over the grapevine at the bottom. Good to speak to you today; hope all this makes sense.

And finally, longstanding readers of this blog may be wondering about a progress report on Woody's motorcycle adventure around Europe (working title Short Way Round). Tune in on Wednesday (30th) for an update. A bientot; tot siens!!

Crikey

Turn your back for a moment and you never know what will happen. In this case Ivan-on-the-next-plot has had a massive burst of enthusiastic hedge trimming and the hedge between us is now down to about 3 feet or less and very thin.

Hmm

Not sure what i think of this. It'll certainly be easier to keep tidy, once it's regrown a bit, but it compromises my privacy a bit and offers no security at all.

Hmm.

I'd like to have known he was going to do it too. Didn't necessarily want to be asked, in the sense of being asked for permission, but it would have been nice to be consulted, it being a joint hedge and all. Ah well, it's done now & not worth falling out over.

What else is new? The grapevine is now tied in to three posts and two strands of wire, ready for some growth this summer.

Chris, my on-plot neighbour has been very active and threatens to put me to shame. He now seems better established, having done lots of work over the winter.

And finally, I've now joined the plot association.

I've belatedly realised that they aren't just an association for plot holders but a shop, cheap garden stuff for the selling of but only between 10.30 & 12 on Sunday mornings. Still think they could be more proactive in marketing themselves to plotholders but no matter, I've joined now. Lots of amusement from Wilma Wilbury, who sees this as a sign that I'll soon be growing chrymanthesums and wearing a cardigan. Pah.

Really love that Lovage

Gnome asked for a feature on Lovage, after my comment about it waking up from the winter and heading for a Lovage hedge this year.

Herewith, from a combination of Wikipedia & my experience of it. Lovage (Levisticum officinale) - well, you didn't expect a former botanist not to give you the full name did you? - is dead easy to grow and once you've got it it'll take a JCB to get rid of it. But why would you want to get rid of it? It has a lovely flavour, akin to celery which it vaguely resembles, and the leaves and seeds are used to flavor food, especially in South European cuisine. It is a tall (3 to 9 ft) perennial , hence the reference to a Lovage hedge. It looks pretty impenetrable when in full flow but is quite soft really and dies back completely in the autumn so is no use at all as a 'real' hedge. Lovage also sometimes gets referred to as smallage, but anything less appropriate is hard to imagine. Mine was grown from seed last year and I confidently expect it to get to at least four feet this year. Here it is now:

Lovage is considered to be a "magic bullet" companion plant; much as borage helps protect almost all plants from pests, so lovage is thought to improve the health of almost all plants. In Germany and Holland, one of the common names of Lovage is Maggikraut (German) or Maggiplant (Dutch) because the plant's taste is reminiscent of Maggi soup seasoning. Or could this perhaps be a vice versa?? We use it a lot in Wilma Wilbury's damn fine fish stew.

Finally, Lovage tea can be applied to wounds as an antiseptic, or drunk to stimulate digestion.

There you are then; all the news that's fit to print about Lovage. I particularly liked Maggikraut; I think I met her once.

The Oldest Spade?

How old can a spade be and still be in use?

If you kept it clean after every session and gave the shaft (assume it’s wooden) some linseed oil, say, once a year, how long would it last?

I’d have thought 100 years was quite feasible. 200? More? Would the blade wear out before the shaft?

Comments, answers and examples please.

And let’s not have any “Grandfather’s axe” answers!!

You’re not familiar with Grandfather’s axe?

“This is a really good axe. It used to be my Grandfather’s. Mind you, I had to put a new head on it last year, and it’s had a couple of new shafts too.”

Surprise, Surprise

I’ve started clearing the neglected area at the bottom of the plot, which was piled high with old rotting wood. But when I moved that some foundations began to emerge. Clearing those with the gardener’s best friend – the pickaxe - the foundations of a large greenhouse appeared.

It spans most of the width of the plot, with a central stone path and two brick-edged beds either side. I sense a restoration project coming on for the winter!

And rooted in one corner I discovered a grapevine. It’s very neglected and tangled

but it is unmistakably a grapevine. It’s a bit late for pruning so I’m just going to bang a couple of posts in, stretch wire between them, tie it in and see what happens. Perhaps give it a bit of manure to feed it too. Exciting or what?

I've also banged three Bishops in. Bishop of Llandaff dahlias, that is.

Love that Lovage

The lovage is back after its winter sleep. I love lovage and I’ve got three plants, grown from seed last year, which will make a lovage hedge this year.

Elsewhere, it’s been “get the onions in” day. Five rows altogether, with 3 of Stuttgart Giant (150), one of Red Baron (50) and one of Shallots (just shallots!). It was lovely work as the ground was so soft from yesterday’s rain, and now it has rained again so they’ll be nicely bedded in and soaked. Just perfect for a good start.

And it’s interesting to look around at all the other allotments and reflect on how they have changed since I took this one. At that time mine was waist high grass and 4 metre high hedges. The plots left and right were derelict as were the two plots immediately downhill of mine. Now every one of them is taken and being cultivated. Some have further to go than others but all are unrecognisable from how they were four years ago. Another which was seriously derelict a few plots along from me is being slowly but surely brought back to life; it had a working party there today concreting in fence posts for a gate. Hanging a gate, and fixing the shed (which they’ve also done), are sure signs that you’re there to stay.

I’ve thought for some time that allotments are like pig farms – always boom or bust. You can turn a pig farm around very quickly because they breed quickly and have big litters, so you can start from not much and have a lot of pigs quite quickly. But that depresses the price so you then go bust. Allotments are a bit like that. Their moment comes, lots of people take them, then realise how much hard work they are and fall away again.

But at the moment allotments seem to be definitely on the up. Long may it continue.

A sower went forth to sow....

and so far he's sown:

Tomatoes (Moneymaker, Beefeater, Tamina & Gardener's Delight)

Leeks ( some leekish sort, not Musselburgh)

Chillies (Cayenne and Scotch Bonnet)

Scotch Bonnet!!!! Wow. H-O-T-T HOT

Me and My Mum and My Dad and My Gran, went to Waterloo.

Me and My Mum and My Dad and My Gran, had a bucket of Vindaloo.

And that's what we'll be doing if they Scotch Bonnets come up to promise.

Cabbage (early). V soothing after the Scotch Bunnets

Cauliflower (All Yr Round)

Basil (which will be good if it gets off its backside and germinates - I'm firmly convinced there are Basil years, in which you can't go wrong with it, and Sybil years, when no matter what you do it just won't germinate (probably terrified).

Parsley (Flat leaf)

Impatiens

And then there's the Geraniums (x2), Impatiens plants Lavender (x2), Rosemary and Sweet Peas (x2), all taking shelter from the intemperate weather.

No wonder the conservatory is begininng to look a little 'occupied'.

Not quite the kitchen sink

But good enough to boil water for tea! And what better to do when digging is interrupted by rain. But, eventually, all the digging is finished now, with the potato plot being last. That's going to be one-third spuds, one-third courgettes and one-third cucumbers.

Back to the plot

Enough of this motorbiking stuff, time to get back to the plot. And I have to say it's looking pretty good, especially the rhubarb.

And all around are unmistakable signs of Spring. Ivan has a new [metal] roof on his shed (now that's a good idea), Chris has cut back his hedge to a manageable height, and I've dug & manured Plot 8 (which always has tomatoes in it.

But, more important than that, I've sown my leek seeds. What better symbolism than sowing leeks on St David's Day. Just be glad it wasn't parsnips.

Try not to fall off the edge!

It's lashing with rain and no allotment work is do-able on what is a day off so I'll tell you a bit more about the biking trip. Basically it is riding round Europe. But I sometimes have a very literal mind, and this is literally riding round Europe.

Starting at the top end of Denmark, where North Sea and Baltic meet, it's following the coast (keep the sea on the right and it'll be fine) all the way round to the Galata Bridge in Istanbul, where the Black Sea and the Mediterranean symbolically meet at the Golden Horn. It goes, pace McGregor & Boorman, by the working title of Short Way Round.

Of course it's anything but short. Denmark to the top end of Italy is almost 6000 miles, then there is all the way down Italy and all the way back, then down the other side of the Adriatic. It's an awfully long way round the in and out bits of Greece, and Albania promises to be 'interesting'.

And then you ask - "so OK Woody, you've got to Istanbul; now what? How do you get home?" Ah well, you see, I keep going, round the Black Sea coast, across the Danube delta to Odessa. I've always wanted to go to Odessa and the Potemkin Steps. By now, of course, I'm in the Ukraine and it really is time to turn home. So it's a sharp left from Odessa into Moldova, through Chisinau, back into the Ukraine and Lvov, over the border to Poland, call on our friends in Lezajsk (damn fine brewery in Lezajsk) and back to the North Sea coast, having gone all the way round.

"Hell's teeth, Woody", I hear you say; "you must have chuffing good holiday entitlement." Well, not exactly, and in truth it's going to take several stages and several years to finish this. I reckon I'll be around 63 when I finish it (almost 58 now).But if you don't start you never finish and I'm a great believer that "A journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step". I remember, aged about 12 and living in a council house in Co Durham, realising that I could get to anywhere, literally anywhere, by walking down the garden path and keeping going. That's never left me.

More details, preparation etc in due course. You'll want to know how Wilma Wibury fits in this too I guess. But, for the moment, allotment service will resume shortly!

Get your motor running

Later this year I'm off on a biking trip in Europe, on this fine fellow.

More details in due course but it will start at the very northern tip of Denmark, Grenen, where the waters of the Baltic meet those of the North Sea. Strictly it's where the Kattegat meets the Skagerrak.

And what has this to do with an allotment, do I hear you ask? Nothing whatsoever, but I've got to start somewhere!! When I get round to it I'll set up another blog to focus just on that but for now we'll leaven allottment posts with biking posts. You'll get used to it.

Rime Intrinsica....

...Fontmell Magna, Sturminster Newton & Melbury Bubb

Whist upon whist upon whist upon whist drive, in Institute, Legion and Social Club

Horny hands that hold the aces which this morning held the plough -

While Tranter Reuben, T. S. Eliot, H. G. Wells and Edith Sitwell

Lie in Mellstock Churchyard now.

I've always had a soft spot for Rime Intrinsica, and Betjeman generally. The above is the first verse of Dorset. What euphony!

Meanwhile, here is the trigger for it all, viz lots of Rime Intrinsica at -7 in the garden this morning

Raspberries

I love raspberries, but my previous attempt to grow them on this allotment came to naught. I suspect I'd left them in the pot too long before planting, and then not watered them enough, so they never properly established.

So I'm trying again. 12 canes of Glen Moy and 12 of Joan J (and the Blackhearts?), which seems to be the modern replacement for Autumn Bliss. Here they are. I've given them a good soak. Fingers crossed. The Glen Moy will just grow but I should get some raspers off Joan J, being an autumn fruiter.

That's it really. More digging, finished plot 4, plots 5 & 6 are fallow under plastic sheet and I've dug the spuds out of plot 7 to act as seed pots for this year - they've already started chitting (filthy beasts). Rhubarb is coming along nicely too

Go for the Burn

There's nothing quite like a good bonfire to get rid of a heap of old rubbish. The allotment looks quite tidy now!

And I've put in some new rhubarb (Victoria), appropariately enough next to the Victoria plum, which knows it's gotta do better this year or it too will be on a bonfire. I'd show you a picture of the rhubarb but, being underground, you can't actually see it. Doh!

So here are a few pictures of a tidy shed instead (when you can't satisfy the custmers fob 'em off with something useless!)

Who turned the fan off?

That's what it was like, someone turning a fan off. It was really windy on the allotment this morning; stuff blowing away, having to have bricks put on it, howling in the trees, too windy to have a bonfire, that sort of thing. Then at 20 past 2 it stopped. Just like that, it stopped, as though someone had switched a fan off.

It felt like what I imagine it's like when the eye of a hurricane passes over. So now I'm waiting for it to start again but in the opposite direction!

Notwithstanding the wind (so to speak) I got loads done today. The side path is now clear and tidy, ready to be kept down with the strimmer, the hedge is cut, I've two huge piles of stuff ready for bonfires. I've manured the blackberries (IDEA - put some netting over them this year to stop Mester Nutkins scoffing them all before I can get to them). Mester - a Sheffield word, derived from Mr and normally applied to a craftsman. Sheffield's iconic silverware & cutlery trade was based on hundreds of Little Mesters working in craft workshops all around the city. Now they're mostly in museums. It's also in general use in Sheffield as a general purpose word for a bloke.

There now, you come to a blog about allotments and get some etymological culture about Sheffield blokes, as related to Squirrel Nutkins.

But I digress. I've also dug and manured half of plot 4 and painted the shed with lovely brown jollop. It's been a positive hive of activity. Ivan-next-door was there and busy, as was bloke-next-to-Ivan, along with woman-below-Ivan (steady on) and woman-below-bloke-next-to-Ivan. And you used to think allotmenting was a wholesome activity?

And now for a historical perspective. It's 3 and a half years since I took this plot over so it's worth looking at:

how it was

and how it is

courtesy of a horny-handed son of toil.

Stirrings and Strimmings

Signs of life! Rhubarb is beginning to emerge

and so is the garlic

And it is unmistakably getting lighter. Which, time marching on, means I really need to get on with the 2 sub-plots I'm going to leave fallow this year. Sounds a bit pretentious I know, with echoes of Turnip Townsend and his three-course rotation but I just need to cut down the amount of plot I'm not cultivating very well, in the hope of doing the rest of it better.

So I've strimmed all the lush, wet, soft, weed growth off it (wearing safety specs, but when I took them off had a massive white band across an otherwise filthy face), so it looks pretty tidy:

Then put weed control fabric down, so as to...... yep, u got it.

Well, it's a good plan; let's see how it goes. I've also started planning the layout for this year and am trying to grow less quantity but better (better-grown, sturdier) quality plants. And I've two more Resolutiones:

• Really really must put the brassicas in a chicken wire cage, to keep the pigeons off, and
• Really must try to master succession sowing, about which I am hopeless so tend to end up as boom or bust. Mostly short periods of boom followed by long periods of bust, which ain't the way to do it at all, at all.

And, changing the subject totally, I've bought a motorcycle, for a cunning plan which is well advanced and will be revealed in a sub-blog later. Pictures when it arrives, in a couple of weeks. Hasta la Vista, baby.

Damp, dank, boring......

..... pretty much sums it up really!

but at least I got to the allotment. Managed to cut down 3 saplings in the hedge and cleared one WL's worth (translation - a new unit of measurement, the Woody's Length, approx 6 feet) of undergrowth. Picture beneath - see what I mean about boring?!

Meanwhile back on the plot

• Bean poles down
• 3rd plot mostly dug and manured
• Blackberries pruned and tied in

on a glorious cold bright day with lots of sunshine. Perfect digging weather really; soft underneath from rain last week but not clarty (a good Northern word) on the boots and with a good drying wind.

Arcadia.....

...is where I've been, aka Yorkshire Sculpture Park, to catch the penultimate day of the Antony Gormley exhibition. I'm a great fan of Gormley and have seen his work:

• at the Angel of the North
• on Crosby beach
• at a gallery in London
• at the Baltic Exchange in Gateshead
• and now in YS Park

Most of the stuff was inside and photography not allowed but I found this outside and plenty of other stuff, including lots of Elizabeth Frink.







I do like a good Frink