What goes up must come down

And with this ancient adage I am referring to three main subjects: ambient temperatures, my mood and the polytunnel.

First the weather. Almost at midwinter here and the gonads of the metal primates are well and truly rock solid. The view out of the window has been mostly white for the last 14 days and this scenario is set to continue if this forecast by the local meteorologist is anything to go by:

Thursday 14th June - A cold but crisp start to the day and with temperature below zero over Wed night, which generates a risk of icy surfaces during Thu morning. The wind in WNW 15 gusting 25 Knots, then gradually backs around to a SW direction by 1500 Z and increases to 25 gusting 35 Knots, particularly around snow showers. Showers of snow start out as isolated, but becoming more frequent from around 1300-1400 Z. (MPA to have a higher frequency of snow showers than Stanley due to the track over land at this time.) Max temps around PS 02 C, then below freezing from 2000 Z. The occluded front then tracks from the south to reach us by 2359 Z. From this time, the wind significantly increases from the south to a mean speed of 35-40 knots gusting 60-65 knots, with prolonged heavy snow.

Friday 15th June - Carrying on from above, the prolonged heavy snow is expected to deposit significant snow accumulations in the region of 12 cm, but I would plan for more. The weather front should pass us by 0600 Z, however, there remains a signal for frequent snow showers following this front with winds calming to fresh from 1200 Z..

(Not that I could fully understand the implications of such a summary. Two science degrees and a regular interest in climatic matters later and still no closer to appreciating the intent of their predictions. I surmised the outlook meant more snow and more wind and decided to continue my current strategy of conserving energy and only straying out of the family home when essential).

Secondly my mood. Big Man has absconded to the UK for a training course and a well-earned pat on the back for his charity effort in December, which is as it should be but did leave me with a poorly child during a school holiday and period of inclement weather, which does tend to have the effect of making me want to bang my head on a brick wall. Fortunately the houses here have an outer shell of timber.

Thirdly, and also impacting badly on #2 above, is the polytunnel. My community horticulture project of only a year old was brought to its knees by an incredibly loud and forceful southerly storm on Thursday night last week. As may be obvious, southerly winds come directly from the Antarctic region, which has been said to have formed ice early this year, heralding a severe winter for us. Great. Anyway I was told the structure was in bits and headed down there with the nipper and a few basic tools to take a look and see if anything could be done. Polytunnel = completely buggered. The metal hoops remained but both door frames and all polythene were utterly destroyed. So I climbed back into the Land Rover and burst into tears. Then spent a silly hour trying to find some bodies to come and help make the remains safe. Sigh. Back to the drawing board there then. Am thinking additional fencing is required before we repair the plastic but none of this comes cheap.

So it has been a woeful week. I even declined the chance to go into Stanley for the Liberation Day parade this morning. The thought of driving a reluctant child 35 miles to stand in the bitter cold and then home again really didn't appeal. Perhaps I might have warmed to the idea more easily if the tax and immigration departments weren't such vague and disorganised bodies forming a clumsy obstacle to me earning even the most meagre of wages. In the event it was a blessing that I didn't go as friends skidded on ice and put their Land Rover down a bank. All the family were unharmed but I feel that is the kind of excitement you can do without when not wearing special suits and crash helmets.

Looking on the bright side, there are no confirmed cases of Legionnaires disease here yet, and what with an entire lack of air conditioning or industry potentially harbouring such an infection I might sleep easy in my bed tonight. Wind permitting.

Go West

'West is best'...or so the locals allege. This was an opportunity to judge for ourselves. One thing is for sure, five days on West Falkland in the middle of winter is in sharp contrast to our other recent trips involving hot climates. The West is less inhabited than the East with virtually no development at all: no petrol station, supermarket, pub, cafe, tarmac roads or streetlights. Just oodles of scenery and abundant wildlife.

We took the ferry to Port Howard (a two hour crossing) and stayed one night in the Lodge there, which was very comfortable and provided full meals. Then we headed out into the unknown, maps at my feet and watched the caracaras circling on the next ridge. Then, as if it was pre-ordained by some greater power, Pet Shop Boys came on the radio. Not normally one to find song lyrics befitting, these had a certain poignancy:

(Together) We will go our way (Together) We will leave someday (Together) Your hand in my hands (Together) We will make our plans

(Together) We will fly so high (Together) Tell all our friends goodbye (Together) We will start life new (Together) This is what we'll do

(Go West) Life is peaceful there (Go West) In the open air (Go West) Where the skies are blue (Go West) This is what we're gonna do

(Together) We will love the beach (Together) We will learn and teach (Together) Change our pace of life (Together) We will work and strive

(I love you) I know you love me (I want you) How could I disagree? (So that's why) I make no protest (When you say) You will do the rest

(Go West) Sun in wintertime (Go West) We will do just fine (Go West) Where the skies are blue (Go West) this is what we're gonna do

There where the air is free We'll be (We'll be) what we want to be Now if we make a stand We'll find (We'll find) our promised land

(I know that) There are many ways (To live there) In the sun or shade (Together) We will find a place (To settle) Where there's so much space

(Without rush) And the pace back east (The hustling) Rustling just to feed (I know I'm) Ready to leave too (So that's what) We are gonna do

(Life is peaceful there) Go West (In the open air) Go West (Baby, you and me) Go West (This is our destiny)

We spent the next three nights in the Top Dip Shanty, which was considerably 'rustic'. No running water, no electricity and utterly enchanting. I was put in mind of ancestors who emigrated to Canada with great pioneering spirit and with no modern contrivances.

Top Dip has a peat stove and hearth replete with goose wing for dusting and lots of colourful rugs and throws for charm. On a practical note it had torches and a chemical toilet, but this didn't detract from the romance. Big Man did a great job of frequent fire fettling and apart from coughing and spluttering at the initial waft of smoke from the peat turves, it kept us pretty cosy. Woozles loved mastering the ladder up and down from the top bunk and playing with some retro toys (new to her!).

The weather was fairly brutal, snowing every day we stayed in the shanty. However we did venture out in the Defender to Hill Cove (has the only woodland in the archipelago), where we had the shortest picnic known to man and the next day to Fox Bay, a rather industrial port settlement where we had hot chocolate and biscuits overlooking the shore birds at the harbour.

Our hostess at the nearby farmhouse was incredibly welcoming (she doesn't get many people to talk to!) and, wait for it, used to live in Walsden. Small world or what?

The last morning was cool and clear so I had a lovely walk along the riverbank while the other two holed up in the warm. I reached a rickety bridge next to an old settlement, tried not to slip in the river on icy rocks, peered at ferns and took endless photographs.

We returned to Port Howard by way of a pitstop to view remains of a downed Argentinian aircraft

and to coo at myriad rainbows. We didn't linger long with feet resembling blocks of ice and the promise of carpeted accommodation and a hot shower tempting us back rather severely!

Late that afternoon I enjoyed another poke along the shoreline collecting fragments of old ceramics with future mosaics in mind, got a few snaps of the rather tame night heron on watch for fish by the bridge and then settled back in for the night before our ferry home.

On deck in the biting wind I watched dolphins porpoising at the bows, rock shags circling overhead and petrels soaring over the stern. Upon returning to East Falkland it was equally snowy and we continued promptly home to warm our cockles and check on the chooks. Woozles was sad that our adventure was over but soon rallied with the promise of craft activities, snacks and children's tv. The ability to switch on electric lights was not going unnoticed at this point!

The School Run

Now that woozles is attending pre-school each morning, we have settled into a routine of walking the distance to get the day off to a good start. It is about one mile and we vary the route depending on the weather. If it is very mild and the wind is not howling we might amble across the playing field and down the road but if, as it was this morning, the black clouds are looming with a snow blizzard then we stay close to shelter and head for the corridor which leads under cover all the way to the school gate. Or if we haven't got ready in time for a leisurely dawdle she is requested to travel in the buggy at a pace which more closely resembles the term 'school run'.

During our travels the young lady has been making observations on how people differ, usually in a loud and clear voice. Two days ago she described a man walking towards us thus; "Mummy he's got a black jacket, black trousers and a black face". Yesterday morning in the decidedly accoustic corridor it was; "Mummy he's got none-hair". Then on the return trip home in our truck we gave a lift to a friend who took a couple of goes to heave up into the Defender and she chortled "He can't fit into the car Mummy".

Mount Howl-a-lot

We had been meaning for some time to make a trip to one of the battlefield sites around Stanley. Big Man climbed Mount Tumbledown before during one of his previous visits to the Falklands so he announced he would lead us expertly around the terrain. After deferring the expedition several times because of weather, general inertia and / or fuzzy heads, we finally decided this Sunday we shouldn't leave it any longer. The map showed Mount Harriet to be closer to the car park off the Stanley Road than Tumbledown or Longdon and with a small child to consider this clinched it. For quite a good description of some of the other places to see check out some of the pages on this blog: 52 degrees south

For May the weather was fairly mild and luckily wind-free. After a bumpy 30 minute Land Rover journey the madamoiselle was wrapped up like an onion and plopped into the backpack carrier. It was a lovely first three minutes climb. The peat felt springy under my walking boots, which hadn't seen action since October (shameful) and the views back down across the landscape were great. Compared to the wilds of Mt Usborne, this one was actually quite easily accessed, with a visible path and minimal boulders to scramble over. We reached the summit fairly quickly but with low lying cloud across the whole ridge of hills, we were now in one = cold and drizzly. We spotted a shelter with a few bits of war debris, looked at the memorial and then sat down out of the wind to get our butties and thermos out.

Then the wriggling started. She couldn't get comfy sitting down, it was cold, she was sliding down the rock. So we rapidly ate up and set off back. The monkey then proceeded to yell all the way back down to the Land Rover. And of course after 2 minutes driving with the heater on she promptly fell asleep. Another glorious family day out in the Falklands.

The official flower of the military child

The official flower of the military child is the dandelion. Why? The plant puts down roots almost anywhere, and it's almost impossible to eradicate. It's an unpretentious plant, yet brightly attractive. It's a survivor in a broad range of climates. Military children bloom everywhere the winds carry them. They are hardy and upright. Their roots are strong, cultivated deeply in their background ...... planted swiftly and surely. They're ready to fly in the breezes that take them to new adventures, new lands and new friends. Experts say that military children are well-rounded, culturally aware, tolerant and extremely resilient. Military children have learned from an early age that home is where their hearts are, that a good friend can be found in every corner of the world, in every colour and that education doesn't only come from school. They live history. They learn that to survive means to adapt, that the door that closes one chapter of their life opens up to a new and exciting adventure full of new friends and new experiences.

Madagascan periwinkle

Back at the ranch after a three week whirlwind tour of the UK and Ascension Island. Had a lovely time seeing family and friends, surviving a sensationally soggy spell. Ascension was lovely and warm as per usual. We stayed in a cabin which was surrounded by tropical shrubs, giving a pleasant sense of our own space. Ascension is volcanic and covered in a medley of things mostly introduced by humans in order to perk the surroundings up a bit or be useful (or a complete menace), e.g. bananas, guavas, prickly pear (!), hibiscus and so on. Growing right outside our door was a pretty pink flower, whose origins I had just been told and I think you may find interesting. The Madagascan periwinkle was once a little-known species growing only on Madagascar and in danger of extinction. Then it was used in scientific research, initially for diabetes treatment but to no avail. It was subsequently discovered that the periwinkle contains a chemical which is helpful against childhood leukaemia and treatments using the extracted medicine have substantially reduced the mortality rate. The periwinkle is now grown widely by pharmaceutical companies in the US as the chemical cannot be synthesised independently.

Cold meat or big waves?

Just back in the UK for a couple of weeks catching up with friends, family, fruit and fashion when we hear that some of the outer Falkland Islands have been on tsunami alert due to an earthquake in Chile. Upon hearing me relay this information to Grandma, the young lady asks 'Mummy why are we on salami alert?'