Observations from a Hill

I watched the finals of The Hundred from Lords on TV yesterday, a format of the game of cricket that - as I think have written before - I was ready initially to loathe as a debased and rather tawdry version of the beloved game. However, in recent months, I've come to appreciate it for what is and for its potential to save the domestic game from oblivion in its longer forms. We were in danger of concentrating on the highly lucrative - although not domestically - Indian Premier League at the expensive of cricket here in the UK. Falling spectator numbers across the longer formats, with decreasing take up of the game amongst the young meant that the game was slowly atrophying and unable to turn a profit and stay alive.  Early take up of the game was not a problem in my childhood, as all - admittedly mostly boys in those days, unfortunately - played street and park cricket all summer long, switching to football for the autumn and winter. Schools actively taught and played cricket, field...

  We went over to meet the boys at Plas Newydd this morning for coffee and a walk and talk in the grounds there. Although the place was quite busy, we went in the opposite direction to the vast majority there, away from the house towards the Rhododendron garden, which is a kilometre or so back toward Llanfair P.G through the woods. Whilst the small (an acre?) terraced garden near the house was a riot of colour and variety [above], the cool dark of the woods was very pleasant indeed, and a good gentle stroll on which to converse about something and nothing and this and that, so to speak. We turned it into a circular walk, ending up near where we'd started, above the terraces and near the cromlech that sits in the field behind. One thing that was noted on returning through the 'National Trust Retail Experience' that starts and ends a visit there, was that the fifth Marquess, Henry Cyril Paget, the erstwhile black sheep of the family, is now being rehabilitated as somewhat a b...

Just a very short note tonight as we're absorbed in the penultimate evening of the European Athletics Championships and really don't want to look away. Just watched a fabulous 10,000m won in great style and form by Sweden's Andreas Almgren [pictured, after the race] - back in a minute or thirty ... Right, so GB have won both 4x100 relays; and the men's 1500m was taken to all the pundit's surprise by a magnificent final fifty sprint by the Nederland's Nillesen. Ireland's O'Connor won the Women's heptathlon fabulously, and  Steve Backley's javelin record fell after twenty-eight years, whilst Jonathan Edward's triple jump record still stands, despite a monster leap by Italy's Hernández which turned out to be a fouled attempt. All in all, an exciting if somewhat distracting evening that's sure to be repeated tomorrow. We're off to Plas Newydd to meet the boys tomorrow late morning, for a stroll and coffee, but we'll be glued to th...

Pictured, a small gift from our current guest, Judith's father, over here for a few days visit from Germany. He's staying in our cottage and this afternoon presented me with this little tome, as he was aware that I have spent some time in Germany and speak [ein bisschen schlechtes] German. We communicated as such this evening, each admitting to our own linguistic limitations in turn, but understanding each other perfectly well enough. A nice gesture on his part, and well appreciated by me. Which makes me think of the damage that the Farage creature and his ilk have wreaked on this land in pressing through the Brexit agenda. We need more contact with the outside world, not less: there is no progress to be made in crude isolationism, as any truly pragmatic person here in Wales will attest to. Nationhood is a fine thing, but any nation has to sell its benefits outside of its own bounds to succeed: cutting ties with others is simply cutting your nose off to spite your face, as we ...

Fairview Heights this late afternoon, the temperature down to a balmy 28˚C, although to be fair we only touched thirty once, mid-afternoon, so not greatly oppressive. The house sits at around twenty-four, but then we live in a place with two-foot thick stone walls, so it is relatively easy to regulate the inside temperature with curtains and doors: old school tech is most often the best, methinks. Shades and a through draught are the free alternative to air-con, as we learnt in Corfu a decade ago: it's quite possible to spend a relatively comfortable night with no air-con in a hot environment as long as you limit the solar gain of windows using shutters during the day, and maintain a night-time airflow across the room. A bottle of cold local wine helps the zzz's along also. It's weird that it's now as as hot here in North Wales as it was back then in Greece, but there you go. One thing I definitely can't get around here though are the stupendous cheese pies and deep...

Pictured, the best that I could manage of the moment of ninety-percent eclipse, using an iPhone 16 Pro through the lens of a pair of cardboard eclipse specs - grainy and blurry that it is, it at least gives an impression of what we could see this evening. We sat out drinking cold beer in the peace and quiet of Y Ffridd, whilst the throng headed up onto the hill behind us, beyond the mountain gate. I think we had the best seats in the house, however...