5 Microadventures You Can Make at Home

Five fun microadventures you can make from your own home, suitable for all ages.

Are you familiar with the idea of microadventures? Adventure isn’t all about faraway locations and uncharted territories. Or about being the highest, furthest, fastest at anything.

It’s about the spirit in which you undertake something. It’s being open to new experiences, approaching things with a curious and inquiring mind, and making your own fun and rewarding challenge. And a microadventure is just that, on a simple, local scale.

And while we’re restricted in the things we can do right now, a new activity in a familiar place can be exactly what you need to feel refreshed and excited, and keep your fire for the great outdoors well stoked.

The simplicity of these ideas also make them an ideal way to introduce adventures to your family, even with very young children, and nurture an appreciation for nature and the outdoors to last them a lifetime. And by keeping them close to home, there’s plenty of opportunities to bail out if things don’t go to plan, or to make a spontaneous change to an everyday routine.

So here are five of my favourite microadventures that don’t mean roaming far from home.

Garden Wildcamping

Sleeping in an unusual place is almost a determining factor for an adventure. Out in the garden, you’ll become more aware of night-time sights and sounds, and the change in light from night to day, as the world around you begins to wake-up. Make sure you can get comfortable and cosy, otherwise it will become an endurance challenge rather than a fun adventure.
If you are used to sleeping in a tent, try a night in a bivvy bag for a different experience, and if don’t have a garden, try pushing back the furniture and pitching a tent indoors or making a bivvy on a balcony. If there’s no room for tents, then a good old blanket fort is great fun.

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Pitching a tent at the end of the garden for a wild night out.
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Waking up to a silvery dawn over the North Sea.

Breakfast Birdwatching

This activity fits in quite nicely with a night outdoors. Take an hour, or as long as you can, in the morning to look and listen for the wild birds that visit your area. Hanging birdfeeders are brilliant to tempt them closer, but it can take a few days for birds to find new ones, as are water baths. Make a picnic breakfast to enjoy in the garden, or watch from a window. A set of binoculars and an ID guide will help you to get to know the regulars.

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Settling in with a coffee and a book to listen to the dawn chorus.
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Watching birds dart in and out of the gorse bushes, and soaking in their heavenly scent.

Everest Anywhere

If you’re missing a fix of physical activity, this is the adventure for you. Using the stairs in your building or garden, measure the height and multiply that to find the number of times you’d need ascend to scale the magnificent height of Everest (8448 metres or 27,717′). That will take quite some time, so there’s always an alternative available, such as Ben Nevis (1,345 metres or 4,413′), Snowdon (1.085 metres or 3,560′), or your local favourite hill.

There’s no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothes. So grab yourself a sexy raincoat and live a little.

Billy Connelly

Wild Wet Weather Walk

How often do we look out the window at wild and windy weather and decide to stay indoors? But embracing the elements can provide an unexpected thrill. Get kitted out in the appropriate gear, and you can dance in the rain, get buffeted in the breeze, and roll around in the snow. Plus it makes coming inside for cosy evenings feel that much more deserved.

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I live by the coast in northeast Scotland, so if I waited for fine weather to go outdoors, I’d spend 10 months in the house!

Stargazing

This one is a bit easier if you live in a less urban area, where light pollution isn’t going to impact too much on your dark skies. It takes a little more preparation than other things on this list, as the best nights for stargazing have just a small sliver of the moon visible and clear skies. Apps like My Moon Phase and YR.no will help you plan the best night, while StarWalk2 gives tips for what to look out for, and can help with identifying constellations. But don’t get too transfixed on screens and ID guides, and just revel in the wild and vast universe around us.

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My favourite guide to the night sky is The Stars by H.A. Rey, author of the Curious George stories. Simple to use and easy to understand.
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Spotting Venus and a sliver of crescent moon in the growing dusk. Anticipating the emergence of a star-filled night sky.
Do you have any favourite microadventures you can make from home?
Let me know in the comments below.

8 Activities for Adventurers Staying at Home

A list of indoor activities and things to do around the home for outdoor and adventure lovers.

Though we’re encouraged to think of our current situation with the coronavirus lockdown as being safe while we’re at home, there’s no denying if you’re an outdoor type, you’ll inevitably find yourself feeling stuck at home. Denied that usual dose of adventure, there’s a serious risk of an outbreak of cabin fever.

So, given that there’s unlikely to be an immediate cure to our condition, I’ve compiled a list of activities that can bring the outdoors indoors, and help stave off longing aches for the hills, rivers, forests, and beaches for a while longer. They’ll help you stay mentally resilient, and get you prepared to get back out there when the time comes. They’re fun, and virtually all free, or at least affordable, so give them a go!

If you’ve got any of your own tips to share, let me know in the comments below!

1. Soak in someone else’s adventure

Take the time to choose some inspiring adventure media among all those books, box sets, and blogs you’ll have a bit more time for at the moment, and relive the ups and downs of someone else’s adventures. You might even find the seed of an idea for your own expedition. These are my current favourites:

Book: I’m currently reading Horizon by Barry Lopez, and you can browse my armchair travel lists for more ideas.
Documentaries: I’ve been feeding my Antarctica longing with the Penguin Post Office film from the BBC; David Attenborough’s Seven Worlds, One Planet; and Encounters at the End of the World by Werner Herzog (also known by my friends as the sad penguin film. It’s not Happy Feet).
Podcasts: I’ve been flitting between Tough Girl Podcast and Terra Incognita recently.
Magazines: Picking up TGO magazine has been my treat when I go on shopping trips.

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Immerse yourself into a book about travel, adventure, or the outdoors to inspire ideas for journeys after the pandemic ends.

2. Deal with the photos and films from your last travels

This is my biggest challenge. I have a huge backlog of photographs, sound recordings, and film footage from my travels over the last couple of years just waiting for some attention. Editing, cataloguing, backing up; there never seems to be enough time to clear the decks before the next batch is gathered. Until now. It’s actually a fantastic way to reflect on past journeys, especially on a rainy evening with a glass of wine. I might even get around to producing a photo book or two once the process is near complete.

3. Find a bit of solace in nature

I’m not one for mindfulness and visualisation; guided meditations tend to leave me sniggering and silly rather than feeling still and soothed. But I am a master at staring out the window at the birds flying by. Putting out bird feeders makes it easier to get to know the usual suspects, and a birdbath gives some excellent opportunities to observe behaviour. If you don’t have a garden of your own, you can find feeders that attach to window and walls instead.

4. Get green fingers

This time of year is perfect to get to know your garden better, and growing your own fruit and vegetables has benefits beyond delicious fresh food. Herbs are a simple starting point if you’re new to gardening, and there’s nothing like your own home-grown strawberries. Boost the biodiversity of your patch with a bug hotel or log pile to keep friendly insects close to your greenery. If you don’t have a garden, try small containers on window ledges to grow basil, rocket, and pea shoots for fresh salad greens.

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A small patch of wildness in your garden creates a haven for wildlife

5. Brush up your adventure skills

The great outdoors might be your favourite classroom, but there’s bound to be a few skills you could work on perfecting from home. They might even become your new passion. Try these for a start:

• Learn the necessary knots. The RYA has eight essential knots for the competent crew qualification. Climbers will need a few different knots in their basic repertoire.
• Fine-tune your map reading skills. It’s understood that real navigators never get lost, but sometimes may become unaware of their present location.
• If you have outdoor space to try, how about practising bushcraft skills like making fire by friction, creating a solar still, or carving a wooden spoon.
• Teach yourself how to service your bicycle and repair a puncture.
• Find a new fitness challenge. It could be anything from skipping or hula hooping, squats or bodyweight workouts, to Pilates, yoga or Tai Chi.
• Test out recipes for homemade hiking snacks, or try your hand at dehydrating meals for your next backpacking trip.

6. Give your gear a going over

Looking after your outdoor equipment properly will extend its useful life, saving money in the long run, and ensure that it does the job you want it to do when you next take it out. Clean your hiking boots and running shoes; clean and re-proof waterproof jackets and pants; wash and air your sleeping bag; mend wear and tear on tents and backpacks; service stoves. I like to make a kit list before I go anywhere, and review it afterwards to work out what was missing, what worked well, and what was unnecessary or needed improving.

7. Learn something new

Keep your brain stimulated with an online course from one of the many free open learning providers like FutureLearn, OpenLearn, and Coursera. Indulge a deep passion, or search for something that might bring richness to your next trip, like a geography, history, or anthropology topic. Or brush up on a foreign language that might come in useful when you travel next. I’m using the Duolingo app and Coffee Break Spanish podcast to improve my skills in Spanish. I don’t want to make the owl sad.

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Where do you really want to go?  What will you do?

8. Plan your ultimate expedition

So, once you’re dosed up on inspiration why not start planning your next big expedition? Start off by asking yourself, what would you really, really like to do, if money, time, the usual commitments were no problem. Then follow up with a few more questions:

• Is it something you’d undertake alone, or as part of a team?
• How long would it take, and how much time do you need to prepare?
• Do you need to start saving up?
• How much training is needed, and when would you have to start?

If travel is your passion, try throwing a dart at the map to decide on a destination. Then ask:

• What do you know about that place? The country?
• How would you get there? Can you do it without flying?
• Can it be done in my budget?

Then it’s time to get maps and guidebooks out, read blogs and browse Pinterest. Whether it’s going to be a serious undertaking, or an exercise in vicarious travel and adventure, you can shape a plan and take to back to the drawing board again and again, until you have your dream expedition.

There’s likely to be times where this lockdown leaves you feeling listless and filled with ennui. That’s ok. It’s a strange and unusual time we’re in, and it’s not necessary to use your energy to do anything other than just getting by.  Just remember, this too shall pass.

Tell me what you’ve been up to while you’re locked down.
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Three Winter Walks on the Isle of Wight

I’ve been fortunate to spend a few years living and working on the Isle of Wight, and covering some of the most beautiful stretches of coastline in the south of England as a Wildlife Ranger.  As days grow shorter and temperatures grow colder, the island’s beaches, creeks, and estuaries seem to look even more beautiful, whatever the weather, and become havens for thousands of overwintering birds.  Without the numbers of tourists that visit in summer, exploring the Isle of Wight in winter often means have beautiful coastal walks all to yourself.

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Western Yar Estuary

  • Route length: 7km (4.5 miles) circular route, with the possibility of an extension to make 11km (7 miles)
  • Difficulty: easy
  • Start / Finish: Yarmouth

The Western Yar is a snapshot of the geological past of southern England, a remnant of a much larger river rising from the chalk downland that once stretched from the Needles, at the tip of the Isle of Wight, all the way to Old Harry Rocks on the Dorset coast.  Now, a small stream quickly becomes a vast tidal estuary, edged with mudflats and saltmarshes that support hundreds of waders and wildfowl.

Find details of this circular walk from Yarmouth, Isle of Wight, including a route map, on my ViewRanger.

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The riverside path from the harbour passes the old mill and joins the old railway line that once linked Freshwater and Yarmouth to Newport.  Listen for the whistles and whoops of teal and wigeon, and the piping calls of oystercatchers from the estuary mud.  The walking is pleasant and easy, with small birds flitting between the hedgerows lining the trail.  The copse further on is a good spot to look for red squirrels scampering overhead.

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The walk can be extended from the Causeway towards the narrow ridge of chalk downs, and the coast known as the Back of the Wight.  A short distance on footpaths and minor roads takes you past Afton Marsh Nature Reserve towards the golf course.  To your left, you’ll catch a glimpse of the Old Military Road, with the crumbling coastline below, and to your right, it dips down to Freshwater Bay before rising sharply toward Tennyson Down.

Rather than retrace your footsteps, a winding path leads down the side of some houses, alongside the early stages of the river Yar, passing through thick reedbeds back to the Causeway crossroads.

From the Causeway, turn left and find the footpath that runs between the Red Lion pub and All Saints Church.  The path leads northwards, away from the edge of the estuary, across rolling farmland and through the woods.  Look out for views across the Solent to the New Forest as you leave the woodland behind.

Cross the swing bridge and finish the walk back in Yarmouth by the harbour.  Pop into PO41, one of my favourite spots on the island for coffee and home-made cake to finish the day.

Newtown Creek

  • Route length: 5km (3 miles)
  • Difficulty: easy
  • Start / Finish: Newtown National Trust Visitor Centre

One of the most beautiful and historic parts of the Isle of Wight, Newtown was once a thriving medieval port, the most important on the island, with a bustling saltworks and several streets of houses.  But after centuries of ebb and flow, Newtown Creek is now a quiet backwater that, in winter, bustles only with birdlife.  In the 1960s plans to locate a nuclear power station here were protested by the local community, and led to the creation of Newtown Harbour National Nature Reserve.

Find details of this walk around the Isle of Wight’s finest nature reserve, including a route map, on my ViewRanger.

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From the National Trust carpark, cross a minor road and follow the route of the medieval street eastwards.  The track opens out into a beautiful area of pasture, with several ancient oak trees (and the entrance to the Upside Down), which is grazed by heritage cattle at certain times of the year.

Leave the field at the far side, turn right then follow the road for around 200m to enter Walter’s Copse, a pocket-sized wood with both ancient woodland and rotational coppice management, that edges onto the saltmarsh of the creek.  Follow the trail through the wood and back to the road.  Turn left, then right, to retrace your route to the Visitor Centre.

Continue on the road past the church, then take the track at Marsh Farm to reach the Mercia Seabrook hide.  National Trust volunteers will open the hide on selected days during the winter, and lead guided walks to show visitors the spectacular winter birdlife; look for hundreds of golden plovers, diminutive dunlins, and a variety of ducks.  Grey seals often lounge on the shingle spit on the far side of the creek.

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Cross the field to reach the wooden boardwalk leading to the old boathouse, which has views across the creek and out to the Solent beyond.  A path leads around the edge of the historic salt pools, and back to the hedgerow-lined meadow.  On a crisp winter morning, with the purring sound of brent geese filling the air, it’s a pretty magical place to visit.

Brading Marshes and Bembridge Mill

  • Route length: 10km (6.2 miles)
  • Difficulty: moderate
  • Start / Finish: Brading

Brading was once a busy fishing port, and the coastal village of Bembridge, just a couple of small farms on an isolated peninsula.  Land reclamation along the estuary of the Eastern Yar* over 120 years ago moved the coastline downstream several miles, creating a sheltered haven between Bembridge and St Helens.

Find details of this walk at one of the best birding sites on the Isle of Wight, including a route map, on my ViewRanger.

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From Brading, follow the road towards the RSPB reserve, then bear left onto Laundry Lane.  This raised track looks over into marshes and scrapes that fill with waders and wildfowl through the winter.  At the end of the lane, bear right on the edge of the main road into St Helens village.

Head downhill from St Helens village green to the embankment, then bear right onto the footpath through the edge of the RSPB reserve.  The trail runs alongside a series of saline lagoons, attracting shorebirds seeking refuge over the high tide in the harbour.

From the Tollgate, which has great views across the harbour to the area of sand dunes known as the Duver, follow the road up through the pretty village of Bembridge.  Take the road on the right after the church and the library, leading out of the village towards Bembridge Mill.

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Picturesque Bembridge Mill is the only surviving windmill on the island, falling out of use in the early 20th century and used as a Home Guard lookout during WWII, before being restored to working condition by the National Trust.

Enjoy the views before heading downhill from the windmill, following the line of the old sea wall, across the edge of Bembridge Airfield, and into Centurion’s Copse, a red squirrel hot spot.  Bear right, and pass through the RSPB reserve.  The ditches and sluices allow for careful control of water levels to manage one of the most important wetland areas in southern England.

At the end of the old sea wall, you’ll meet the end of Laundry Lane, and be able to retrace your steps back into Brading.  Pop into the Auctioneer for a pot of tea and a huge wedge of cake, and even a browse through the latest selection of antiques and curios on display.

*The Isle of Wight has three large-ish rivers.  Two of them are called the Yar.  The story is that no islanders ever travelled the vast distances from Bembridge to Yarmouth (about 45 minutes drive now), or the opposite direction, so the lack of imagination in naming never really mattered.

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Tips to watch wildlife responsibly in winter:

  • Avoid causing disturbance to birds feeding or resting in coastal areas.
  • Bring binoculars for a good view without getting too close.
  • If the birds become alert and stop feeding on mudflats and saltmarsh, move further away and allow them to settle down.
  • Stick to paths and marked routes where they exist, and avoid emerging suddenly onto saltmarshes and creeks.
  • Stop for a while on your walk, or move slowly, to see what emerges from nearby hedgerows or reedbeds
  • Listen to the sounds; they might reveal something you would otherwise miss.
  • Always follow guidance on signs on sites.

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What to look out for:

Birds: dark-bellied brent geese; greylag geese; golden plovers; curlews; oystercatchers; black-tailed godwits; lapwings; dunlin; pintail; teal; widgeon; shelducks; kingfishers; peregrine falcons; rooks; yellowhammers;  short-eared owls; little egrets; spoonbills; long-tailed tits; goldcrests; fieldfares; redwings; ravens.

Other creatures: Hebridean sheep; belted Galloway cattle; red squirrels; grey seals.

Nature: Ancient oak trees; coppice hazel and the first catkins; an abundance of fungi and lichen; towering reedmace and phragmites; brambles; spindle berries; gorse flowers.

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15 interesting facts about Antarctica

A series of interesting facts about Antarctica that I uncovered during my research.

Earth’s southernmost continent held us in its thrall long before it was first sighted in January 1820, still just a blank space on the map.  The limitless solitude and silence, the vastness of scale, occupying mythical space in our imagination.  Even now, with the possibility to visit the continent as a tourist, we are drawn by the idea of blankness, the purity of a landscape without the cultural associations of our own, where we can make our own connections and add new pins to the map.

I’ve done a large amount of research recently to familiarise myself with Antarctica: the short human history and tales of exploration; ecosystems and wildlife; the rock and the ice; the striking natural beauty of the continent.  In the process, I’ve uncovered more than a few interesting facts on which to hang my own understanding and experience, and I’m sharing the best of them here.

Antarctica Facts

  • The Antarctic polar circle is an imaginary line circling the earth parallel to the equator at latitude 66°33′ S.  South of the line experiences at least one day of midnight sun at the December solstice, where the sun remains above the horizon, and at least one day of polar night at the June solstice, where the sun does not rise over the horizon.

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  • Most of the landmass of Antarctica lies within the polar circle, with just the tip of the peninsula, Graham Land, and a few capes in Enderby Land and Wilkes Land extending north of the line.  However, all land and islands, and ice shelves, lying south of latitude 60°S are considered part of Antarctica, and governed by the Antarctic Treaty System (more on that below).
  • The true boundary of the Antarctic could also be considered the Antarctic convergence (AAC) zone, also known as the polar front, an oceanographic feature where the dense, cold waters of the Antarctic circumpolar current sink beneath warmer waters from the north.  The resulting upwelling of nutrients supports a rich diversity of marine life.  The convergence circles the continent at a latitude between 41°S and 61°S, in a band around 40km (25 miles) wide, and the variation is why island groups such as South Georgia (54°15′S 36°45′W) and Bouvetøya (54°25′S 3°22′E) are considered to be Antarctic in biogeographical terms, and Macquarie Island (54°38′S 158°50′E) and Cape Horn (55°58′S 67°17′W) are sub-Antarctic.
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Antarctic krill (Euphausia superba), one of the most abundant species on the planet. Photo credit: Uwe Kils
  • The name Antarctica was first formally used for the continent by Scottish cartographer John George Bartholemew in his work of 1890, after the term Terra Australis, which had described a speculative southern continent was used for the re-naming of New Holland (het Niew Hollandt) as Australia.  Antarctica is derived from the Greek antarktikós, the opposite of the Arctic, the opposite of north, used for unspecified and unknown southern lands since the days of AristotleArktos means bear, and arktikos referencing the northern constellations Ursa Major (Great Bear) and Ursa Minor (Little Bear).  The fact that polar bears live in the Arctic and not in the Antarctic is purely coincidental.
  • Antarctica is the coldest continent on Earth.  On 21st July 1983, a low of -89.2°C (-128.6°F, air temperature) was recorded at Vostock Research Station, on the isolated, inhospitable East Antarctic Plateau.  Recent satellite observations have suggested that it may get even colder in certain conditions, as low as -98°C.  The Antarctic Peninsula, where most visitors will go, has a much milder climate, with January averages around 1 to 2 °C (34-36°F), though it can get as warm as 10°C (50°F).
  • The Antarctic has no indigenous population and no permanent inhabitants.  Approximately 29 nations send personnel south of 60° to operate seasonal and year-round research stations, field bases, and research vessels, giving a summer population of around 5,000, dropping to just 1,000 or so over winter.  The number of summer residents is boosted by tourists, with more than 44,000 visitors recorded in 2016-17 season.
  • The Antarctic Treaty System is a unique set of international agreements, laying out the framework for the governance of the region.  Originally signed in 1959, it establishes the peaceful pursuit of scientific research, international co-operation, and environmental protection as the goals for all nations active in Antarctica.
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The flag of the Antarctic Treaty
  • The first confirmed sightings of continental Antarctica happened just 200 years ago.  The Imperial Russian expedition led by Fabien Gottlieb von Bellingshausen and Mikhail Lazarev, on the ships Vostok and Mirny, discovered an ice shelf on the Princess Martha Coast, on 27th January 1820, which later became known as the Fimbul Ice Shelf.  Just a few days later, on 30th January, Edward Bransfield, of the British Royal Navy, sighted the Trinity Peninsula, the northernmost tip of the Antarctic continental mainland.
  • An expedition led by Norwegian polar legend Roald Amundsen was first to reach the geographic South Pole on 14th December 1911.  Leaving the ship Fram, on loan from his fellow countryman Fridtjof Nansen, in the Bay of Whales at Framheim, he traversed the Axel Heiberg Glacier onto the polar plateau, using skis and sled dogs, reaching the pole in 56 days.  On realising their goal, the Norwegian team spent three days taking sextant readings, and “boxing the pole” to establish an exact position.  Despite setting out from their base at Cape Evans on Ross Island just five days later the Norwegians, it wasn’t until five weeks after Amundsen arrival that Robert Falcon Scott’s ill-fated team reached the pole.
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Amundsen and his crew at Polheim, the geographical South Pole, 1911. Photo credit: Olav Bjaaland
  • Unlike in the Arctic, there are no large terrestrial animals in Antarctica.  In fact, the largest creature living on the land is a flightless midge, Belgica antarctica, just 6mm (0.25in) in length.  It’s reckoned that it’s flightlessness is an adaptation to prevent being swept away in the strong winds that blast the continent.
  • The richest and most diverse ecosystem in Antarctica is the ocean.  Nutrient-rich water upwelling in the Antarctic convergence cultivates blooms of plankton, which feeds super-abundances of krill, small shrimp-like crustaceans.  In turn, the krill support many species of fish, seals, birds, and whales, including orcas, humpback whales, and blue whales, the largest of all.
  • Though we immediately think of penguins as the classic Antarctic bird, only a few species actually live that far south.  Of the 18 extant species worldwide, four can be considered Antarctic (Emperors, Adélies, Gentoos, and Chinstraps) and another four are sub-Antarctic (Kings, Royals, Southern Rockhoppers, and Macaronis).  If, like me, you can’t get enough of penguins, check out the BAS Penguin of the Day photos.
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Gentoo penguin family at Jougla Point in the Palmer Archipelago.  Photo credit: Liam Quinn.
  • The famed Northern Lights, the aurora borealis, have a southern counterpart, the aurora australis.  The aurora is the result of disturbances in the upper atmosphere, when streams of charged particles ejected from the sun interact with the earth’s magnetic field.  The ideal time to observe the aurora australis in Antarctica is in the dark nights through the southern winter, however, they can also be seen from the Peninsula and South Georgia.
  • The Antarctic Ice Sheet is the largest single mass of ice on earth, covering around 98% of the continent, an area equivalent to one and a half times the size of continental USA.  It’s estimated that it reaches as much as 4,700m (15, 420′ or 2.9 miles) thick at the greatest extent, and extends almost 2,500m (8200′ or 1.5 miles) below sea level in West Antarctica.  The extent of sea ice formed through the winter months almost doubles the size of the continent.  Unlike the Arctic, the area has remained fairly constant in recent decades, though the variation in ice thickness is unclear.
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Antarctic ice. Photo credit: Gregory Smith.
  • All is not well in Antarctica.  The rate of ice melt has doubled every decade since records were first kept, a direct consequence of increased air and water temperatures in the region.  The rate of air temperature rise (2°C or 3.2°F in the past 50 years) is one of the highest on the planet, resulting in a rise in sea levels and glacial ice calving faster than at any time since the records began.  Further increases in temperature will have profound effects on global weather patterns.
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Photo Journal: Machair Wildflowers on the Isle of Coll

The island of Coll is breathtakingly beautiful.  The sort of place where you leave a little piece of your heart behind when you finally bring yourself to leave.

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The sweeping arc of Feall Bay, on the southwestern coast of Coll
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The beaches of Feall and Crossapol are separated by a fixed dune system rising over 50 metres in places, including a large swathe of flower-rich machair

The turquoise waters of the Sea of the Hebrides wash up on sweeping silver-white beaches backed by lofty, marram-clad dunes, reaching over 50 metres high behind the strand at Feall.  Between the coastal bents and the bogs and bare rock inland, is a rare place; machair, a habitat unique to the Hebrides, the fringes of northwestern Scotland, and western coast of Ireland.

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I started to rue not paying attention when being taught the names of wildflowers by my Granny.  But I do know this is silverweed, and prefers damp spots close to the shore.
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I think this dandelion-like flower is a type of hawkweed.
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Sea pink, also known as thrift, and stonecrop clings to niches in the bare rock.
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Wild thyme and ladies bedstraw form a dense, deeply-scented carpet on the machair.

In her 2018 book Wilding, Isabella Tree recounts several alarming statistics about the state of nature across the British and Irish Isles, including the fact that around ninety per cent of wildflower meadows have been lost since the Second World War.  This has had a devastating knock-on effect on invertebrate fauna, and the birds which depend on them.

The machair of the Western Isles is a last stronghold, lavish with wildflowers through the spring and summer.  Common species like red and white clover, buttercups, daisies, wild thyme, ladies bedstraw, and bird’s foot trefoil carpet the pasture, with a scattering of rarer species like the Hebridean spotted orchid and Heath orchid.  The area around Hough Bay is a hotspot for bloody cranesbill.

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A blanket of daisies and buttercups cover the machair next to the RSPB reserve carpark.
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Machair wildflowers are vital for rare bumblebees, such as the great yellow bumblebee, once common across the British and Irish Isles, and now restricted to a few areas in the Hebrides.
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The machair was traditionally used for summer livestock grazing and hay cutting.  It would have been exactly like the scything scenes in Poldark.
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The size of that handsome lad.  He’s so tiny and cute.
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The island of Coll, and neighbouring Tiree, are reputed to have the highest number of sunshine hours anywhere in Scotland.
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I think this might be saxifrage, or maybe eyebright.  I do have a very good flora guide (Warne, The Wild Flower Key), but I’m just not very good at using it.
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There are three or four different species of orchid found on Coll and Tiree.

Sea pinks (thrift) and stonecrop find refuge among the rocks. Ragged robin, meadowsweet, and beds of yellow flag (iris) define wetter areas, and provide the preferred hiding spots for crackling, croaking corncrakes, often heard but rarely seen on their summer sojourn from southern Africa.

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I’m pretty sure that these pictures are all of the same kind of orchid.
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They are either the Hebridean spotted orchid or the heath spotted orchid, though they can hybridise.  I also saw early march orchids, but my photo was rubbish.
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A green-veined white caterpillar chomping on a creeping willow.
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Hay meadows in the in-bye can conceal corncrakes; the crackling calls that give them their scientific name, Crex crex, the only clue to their presence

The drowsy, blossom-sweet scent of the machair charges the air on a warm day in June, enough that passing ships catch a draught on the breeze, like a half-remembered afternoon from childhood.  From the beginning of May to midsummer, the machair belongs to the skylarks, singing more than 18 hours a day, from dawn to dusk, and rare bees, bumbling through the flowers, honey-drunk on nectar.

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The sandy machair merges into the blackland of peat moors and bogs, and the plant community changes.
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Bell heather, ling, crowberry, bog cotton, and even some rare alpine species are found on the higher ground.
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What I’ve loved this season: Summer 2019

Where I’ve been and what I’ve done:

Through this summer most of my travels have either been onboard Irene, or around the areas where the ship has been based.  After completing the TGO Challenge, and taking part in an interview for a winter job, I returned to Oban to rejoin the ship.  After a quick turn around, we picked up Kag, our kayaking guide, and a bunch of boats, and headed out to explore the islands of the Inner Hebrides.

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Looking back at Oban from the middle of the Sound of Kerrera

Our first stop was the sheltered water of Loch Spelve, on the eastern side of Mull, to wait out high winds and feast on mussels from the local farm and foraged seaweed.  As I was pottering about in the tender I had a phone call.  I was successful at the interview.  I got the job!  Or more accurately, I was going to be part of the team to do the job.  More about that below.

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Deckhand Dan, possibly the least successful fisherman on Irene.

Once storms abated, we headed through the Sound of Mull and round Ardnamurchan Point to the Small Isles, spotting a couple of minke whales on the way.  We dropped anchor off Eigg, under the imposing An Sgurr, for a couple of nights, and I was fortunate to join the group for a paddle along the east side of the island accompanied by singing seals and diving gannets.  Kag also introduced us to the concept of sea diamonds, which made kayaking in a total downpour seem damply magical.

Back in Oban, we had time for a quick crew turn around and a couple of great nights out, before heading out.  This time we turned southwards, heading for Jura, and the sheltered water of Loch Tarbert, and Islay, dropping the kayakers in near Ardbeg for a paddle round to Port Ellen, with as many whisky stops as they could manage.  On the return leg, we called in by the islands of Oronsay and Colonsay, anchoring in beautiful Kiloran Bay for a barbecue on the beach.

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Irene at anchor in Kiloran Bay, Colonsay.  An extremely damp beach recce, but the weather dried up overnight for a beautiful stay.

At the end of June, I had what felt like my first proper holiday in a very long time.  I spent five days on the Isle of Coll in the Inner Hebrides, and was blessed with the best weather conditions.  A spot of rain on the first afternoon, just enough that I didn’t feel I was missing out while I caught up on sleep after leaving the ship.  Then beautiful sunshine and light winds to cycle around from one end of the island roads to the other, and stopping off at spots around the island to hike, swim, birdwatch and beachcomb.

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The sweeping silver sand beach at Feall Bay, Isle of Coll

At the end of my leave, I returned to Irene in Swansea, to move her round to Cornwall for the final months of the season.  We stopped off at Lundy on the way, anchoring overnight beneath the cliffs.  A 1am wake-up call to move anchor at the turn of tide turned out to be one of the most magical experiences of the voyage, as thousands of Manx shearwaters swirled through the air around us, through the rigging, and called out from their burrows.  A stowaway bird emerged from the hawsepipe the following morning, and I helped her back to the sea.

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At anchor off Lundy in the Bristol Channel on our way between Wales and Cornwall.

We finished our voyage in Newlyn, which became our base for the next month for voyages to the Isles of Scilly and Brittany, and very quickly one of my favourite places.  As a working fishing port, life here lacks the softness and sanitation of nearby coastal villages.  You wouldn’t be wrong to describe the place as rough or gritty, especially after a night out to the Swordfish pub, once considered one of the toughest in the UK, but the richness of the stories I found was compelling.

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Irene of Bridgwater sailing in Mount’s Bay. Photo credit: Penzance NCI
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Irene approaching Newlyn harbour under full sail. Photo credit: Penzance NCI
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Sailing onto the mooring alongside in Newlyn. Photo credit: Penzance NCI

I’d been looking forward to visiting the Isles of Scilly all summer, however weather conditions were not in our favour.  One drizzly grey voyage, and another blown out by an Atlantic storm.  However, the Brittany trip was fantastic, with a few days exploring around Tréguier and Ile de Bréhat, and a wonderful wildlife-filled channel crossing, with common dolphins accompanying the ship from sunrise onward.  The only disappointment was that we arrived back to Newlyn on the very same day a humpback whale was filmed lunge feeding just a couple of miles away, and we missed it.  Check out the awesome photos on the Lone Kayaker’s blog, including one of Irene passing St Michael’s Mount. 

On my next leave, I caught up with the rest of the team for my new job for a couple of days in London to get to know each other better, and for the chance to bombard Lucy, returning for a second season, with hundreds of questions about what to expect.

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Keeping lookout from the top of the lightbox
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Sailing onto our mooring outside Charlestown Harbour.

Back on Irene, we relocated the ship to Falmouth, using it as a base to explore the coast from The Lizard and Start Point, visiting Salcombe, Fowey, and Mevagissey, as well as a favourite anchorage in the Helford River.  With big winds forecast on a couple of days, we also explored the upper reaches of the Fal above Trelissick Gardens.  At the very end of August, we dropped in by the Classic Sail Festival at Charleston Harbour, deep in Poldark country.  So many beautiful boats that I want to sail on.

 

The new job!

So, it’s going to be very different this winter.  I’m extremely excited to share the news that I’ll be heading to Antarctica, to spend the southern summer season working in the Penguin Post Office at Port Lockroy.  I’ll be part of the team helping to run the Post Office and greet visitors to the island, and have the responsibility to monitor the resident penguin population through the season.  I’m beyond overjoyed about it all, though a bit daunted at the prospect of four months on a small island in a remote setting.

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My summer love list:

Books: It’s been difficult to find time to read through the summer, but long train journeys to meet the ship in Swansea and Newlyn were perfect. I read Empire Antarctic: Ice, Silence and Emperor Penguins by Gavin Francis, taking screeds of notes.  I also discovered the fabulous Beerwolf pub/bookshop in Falmouth, and succumbed to temptation, buying a couple of copies of Granta Magazine.

TV Show: When I’m off the ship I can catch up on watching films and TV that I don’t usually get the chance to see.  The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance has me so excited.  I absolutely adored the film when I was young.  And, inspired by my time in Cornwall this summer, I’ve got really into Poldark.  For the traditional sailing ships, not the shirtless scything, honestly.

Clothing: I’ve been living in shorts and flipflops for the past three months.  I don’t think I’ll ever manage to wear proper shoes again…

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Equipment: I think my most used bit of kit through the summer has been a heavy duty drybag with a shoulder strap that I discovered in the magic middle aisle of Aldi.  It’s been perfect for getting back and forward to the ship in the dingy while we’re on a mooring buoy or anchorage.

Food: Have you ever found a restaurant so good that you go back again the following night to finish off the menu?  The Sound Pantry in Newlyn is one of those places. The most delicious home-made Portuguese food for dinner two nights in a row, plus a morning visit to pick up pasteis de nata for our coffee break.

Treats: I spent an afternoon in the galley with our ship’s chef Alex and learned how to make the most fantastic baklava. So good.

What’s next:

These next few weeks are going to be an exciting time, as I prepare for spending the next few months living in Antarctica and working at the Penguin Post Office in Port Lockroy.

I’ve also got a few hiking trips planned, including the Great Corset Caper, where I’ll join with a bunch of awesome women to take on Pen y Fan, in the Brecon Beacons, wearing period costume.  I have to admit, I’m very nervous about it, particularly the corset.

Thanks for following These Vagabond Shoes.  You can keep up to date with my adventures on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook.  And look out for plenty of penguin facts to fill the time while I’m out of contact down south.

Read about my spring adventures here.
I’d love to hear about what you’ve been up to this season, or plans you have for the season ahead.
Let me know in the comments below.

 

This post contains affiliate links.  If you purchase through my link, I will make a small commission* at no additional cost to you.  These help me to continue to run this site, providing tips and advice, and sharing stories from my adventures.  Thank you for supporting me.

*Maybe enough for a coffee.  Not enough for a yacht.

Why you should try birdwatching.

BirdwatchingHello. My name is Vicky, and I am a birdwatcher.

I have many and varied interests (well, don’t we all?), but one thing that makes my heart go a-flutter more than most is grabbing my binoculars and keeping tabs on the local birdlife. It started as out a necessity, a university research project mapping the food web of an intertidal mudflat. Just work out who eats what…, and my interest grew slowly from that.

I’ve watched spear-sharp gannets dive for fish on the Scottish coast as I sailed by. I’ve hiked into a kauri forest in New Zealand at night searching for kiwis shuffling through the undergrowth. I spotted an improbably balanced toucan in a kapok tree as I set up a bivvy in the Belizean jungle. And every autumn I watch out for skeins of brent geese, like squadrons of aircraft, returning from the Arctic to my local coast.
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What wild creature is more accessible to our eyes and ears, as close to us and everyone in the world, as universal as a bird?

David Attenborough

Birdwatching brings all kinds of small pleasures; spotting something new and exciting, or something friendly and familiar; being outdoors and feeling the wind and weather around you; becoming attuned to the surroundings and focusing on observation. For me, it beats any kind of meditation or mindfulness practice.
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Five tips for beginner birders

  • Begin at the beginning. Start by noticing what’s going on in your garden or local park. You can even put some feeders out to encourage birds close to where you can see them. Observe things like size, colour, behaviour; think about how you’d describe them and start to put some names to the regular visitors. The RSPB Bird Identifier is great to help get you started.
  • Get some gear. Basic birdwatching doesn’t need much; just looking and listening can often be enough to get you started. A field guide will help with identification, as will a notebook to jot down or sketch what you’ve seen. Good walking boots and warm, waterproof clothing will make your life more comfortable out in the field. Investing in a pair of binoculars is the next step. Beginner level binoculars can be picked up for between £50 and £100, and decent pairs are often available second hand. Look for a good balance of magnification, field of view, and weight; I’d recommend going for 8×42, like my Opticron pair.
  • Find a birding buddy. One thing I found that helped most to build my confidence was to ask other birders to show me what they were looking at and share any tips they had that would help me remember the bird for next time. Most birders are friendly and love to share their passion with others, so say hello next time you visit a hide. Twitter is also a great way to find people; follow your local nature reserves, and you’ll soon pick up other birders that will help build your skills.
  • Get to know your local patch. Find a nearby area that looks likely, such as your garden, a nature reserve, a stretch of coast, or any green space, and visit it often. You’ll soon start to see patterns and changes in the birds you see, and their behaviours, as the seasons change around you.
  • Swot up on species. Most nature reserves and hides have a sightings board or book with the birds that have been spotted recently. Match up the list with the pictures in your guide so you know what you’re looking for. You’ll also find online lists that tell you what to expect in your area and any recent sightings of interest. There may also be a local ornithology group that you can join.

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The best books and guides for budding birdwatchers

  • How to be a Bad Birdwatcher, by Simon Barnes. A bad birdwatcher is a good thing. This book is a brilliant introduction into why watching birds is about tapping into your joy in the natural world.
  • The Collins Bird Guide, by Lars Svensson and Killian Mullarney. The most comprehensive and current book covering British and European birds, and worth investing in if you’re keen to improve your ID skills.
  • RSPB Bird Identifier. A feature on the RSPB website which suggests what you might have seen by answering a few questions, e.g. Where did you see it? What colour was it? What was it doing? and so on.
  • Identifying Birds by Behaviour, by Dominic Couzens. This book will supplement your field guide and gives an interesting background into bird behaviour.
  • Birds Britannica, by Mark Coker and Richard Mabey. A rich study of the cultural and social connections between birds and people through history, filled with fabulous pictures.

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There are also several apps you can download to help with identification and recording species while you’re out and about.

Do you like to spend time birdwatching?
What’s been the most interesting bird you’ve seen on your travels?
Let me know in the comments below.
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