National Parks and garbage.

Just back from Montserrat, a stunning area and unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been. Easy access from Barcelona makes it a popular area with walkers, climbers and general tourists who wish to visit the monastery there. Most laybys will have a camper van or two parked up in them overnight and it can get pretty busy at the weekend.


Dale and I decided to camp up for the night in a layby that looked like it had good potential for sunset photographs and having found one that seemed suitable, I had a scout around the small headland. I guess it’s always going to be worse on a Sunday evening when the crowds have gone home but it still saddened the heart. Everywhere on the headland was like this…


I took some photos for two young couples on their phone and as they drove off, we had the place to ourselves. I then noticed that they’d packed up their garbage and instead of taking it home (there are no bins here) to dispose of – they’d left it behind.


A strong wind and it would be strewn everywhere. Then it just got better/worse!



This pile of stuff was right by the car parking area… stunned! A shame the guide wasn’t in English. As we made breakfast in the morning, a worker turned up to pick up bits of rubbish and it was rather saddening the amount he went away with, this from one small area maybe 20m by 40m.

On a trip to the Canadian Rockies some 9 years ago, in three weeks I saw only one piece of rubbish on the trail. That shows that we can keep our Parks pretty free from garbage if we follow the rule – Take out what you bring in.


Sunshine summer shots.

No doubting – it’s been a fine summer in the UK. It wasn’t hard to find blue skies most weekends and even tho I somehow contrived to work too many of them… when I did get out, I was happy to be in Britain.

Lunch time!

The Aonach Eagach on Saturday was followed by Curved Ridge on Sunday. Perhaps one of the best trips to Scotland I’ve experienced. Even the midges stayed calm.

Curved Ridge


Wales played it’s usual large part in my life with a first trip to Pembroke and of course the Ogwen Valley enjoyed some serious heat at times. I even fled to the sea mists of Tremadog one weekend, as the Pass was just far too hot. Who’d have thought eh?

Ogwen Valley

A road trip through France and Spain this last couple of weeks cemented the idea in my head – when it’s dry on this small island, I want to be nowhere else.