Tuesday 27 September 2016

Gwaith 4: The Celtic Forge

Helo Pawb

A few people have asked me why I have travelled to Britain for research when I could just as easily turn to books and the net for information and images. Yes, I could do that, and many authors using such sources for their research have written wonderful books. I actually do use these resources myself, but feel that I need to be here to experience the landscape close up for authenticity. Watch how mist crouches in a Welsh valley or threads through pine on the mountainside, or how rain changes from drifting to dropping to hammering to shifting side-to-side. Hear the sound of running water along a straight section of river, one end a rush and gurgle and the other end a sliding clinking, with silence in between, though the water itself crinkles and flutters. Feel my boots sink deeply into heather or slip on moss-covered rocks. Then, there are those moments when I gain a nugget of information that I could not have obtained through print and pixel sources, because of something said in passing in the local pub. Other times, opportunities for experience come unexpectedly and I know I have no choice but to take them, because I may not be in this place again.

Veronica, who established and manages Stiwdio Maelor, often runs miles to the house after being dropped off up the road. A couple of weeks ago, she was running through Aberllefenni, which is two miles down the road, and stopped to chat with the owner of two dogs that had protested at her presence. He gave her a brochure for his business and a little later I noticed it in her studio: Blacksmithing Introductory Courses. Given the main character of my novel is the son of a blacksmith, I knew I had to go on one of these courses. I had watched blacksmiths at work back in Melbourne, at The Australian Blacksmiths Association forge in Coopers' Settlement, but to actually get hands-on experience was, as the TV ad goes, priceless.

The Celtic Forge
So, yesterday (Sunday, 25 Sep), after a pleasant walk along Afon Dulas, I arrived at The Celtic Forge, which is in the building that used to be the machine ‘problem solving’ place for the old slate quarry that was shut down in 2002. Lez Paylor, a former stonemason and now a passionate and knowledgeable blacksmith of many years’ experience, was to be my guide and teacher. Four and a half hours later, I emerged from the forge with an appreciation of blacksmithing skills and history, the delight in having practiced some of those skills through creating a piece I could take home (with Lez tidying up flaws and giving it a final polish), and several pages of intriguing and stimulating notes for my novel. I learnt about beach forges, soft anvils and mallets, what a tui and a bic are, how to be a striker, how nothing is wasted in a forge, what sort of work dark ages blacksmiths would do and what equipment they used, and why some blacksmiths tap the anvil in between their blows on the piece on which they are working. Specific techniques I practiced while making my double-twist fire poker were 1) tapering, 2) upsetting, 3) punching and drifting a hole, and 4) stock twisting.

Below are some photos from the day:

Anvil and hammer
Lez cutting a section of mild steel rod for one of our fire pokers
Starting the forge fire
Turning on the air blower to get the forge fire really going
The two rods being heated up
Lez about to work on the tapering for his fire poker
Lez working on the hole end of the fire poker, using the bic and hammer
Fire pokers ready for heating for the stock twisting.
Punch used for making the holes and the tool used for raking the coke and digging out clinker/slag.
The soft anvil and soft mallet
My fire poker pushed through the coals, to heat the section that will be twisted
Lez polishing up my fire poker
If you look closely, you might see the mist rising from the fire poker cooling down after being treated with beeswax,
which helps to slow down rusting.
My finished fire poker
Funnily enough, though I feel enormous pride and satisfaction in having created the fire poker (which I plan to show all and sundry back home ), the main thrill I took from this amazing day occurred virtually at the start of my efforts. I was holding the length of mild steel with my left hand, at an angle to the anvil, and hammering the red-hot tip. After the first couple of blows, the metal began to flow towards the taper shape, was doing what I wanted yet was also moving of its own accord. Pliant metal was becoming more than itself, a blend of wonder and will that conveyed to me in that magical instant something of the mystery and mystique of the blacksmith’s craft and art. No wonder the blacksmith was regarded with awe. From such moments, all the tools for livelihood and defence were created.

As always, any comments are appreciated.

Cofion Cynnes

Earl

Monday 19 September 2016

Gwaith 3: Residency Update

Helo Pawb

Yesterday (Saturday, 17 Sep 16) marked two weeks I have been at my Stiwdio Maelor residency, so I thought it time to post an update on my various activities.

My major aims for my time in Wales are writing, language and landscape. ‘Writing’, obviously, means my dark ages novel, though that doesn’t mean I won’t respond to other prompts from the muse. ‘Language’, again just as obviously, refers to my attempts at learning Welsh and finding opportunities for practicing it. Finally, ‘landscape’ means my desire to observe and absorb as much of the Welsh landscape as I can, for my soul and for the book. These first two weeks, I would say, have been successful on all counts.

My studio (Stiwdio Chwech)
Writing
Since leaving Australia, I’ve averaged 3.5 hours of writing per day. This may not seem much, but it doesn’t take into account flight days and days spent staying with friends before my residency, as well my time on Helfa Gelf and traipsing the countryside. I want to build this to four to five hours per day, though when I finish this first five weeks of my residency and go travelling for five weeks, my average is bound to drop. Anyway, in my two weeks at Stiwdio Maelor I have managed to accomplish the following:

Interdraft work (structural editing and conceptual re-jigging): 19.971 words
Draft 3 of the novel: 1,428 words
Blog posts and other writing: 3,197 words
Blog posts (including this one): 3
Haiku drafts: 11
Poem drafts: 1
And, unexpectedly, short story drafts: 1

I am quite happy with this output, though of course my focus, now that I’ve essentially finished the Interdraft work, is on continuing the novel redrafting.

My working space
The view from my desk this morning
My Ancient Britain and Roman Britain maps
Language
Last year I went to hear Alan Garner talk about his work, which you can read about here. On the way there, I suddenly felt a little disconcerted, a little weird. I wasn’t sure why, then I realised I had entered England and let behind the dual-language signage of Wales.

Traffic lights in Corris, because of water works
In Welsh, the adjective comes after the noun
While I am still a long way from fluency, my brain is used to seeing and, to some degree, comprehending Welsh words and signs. Since my arrival at Maelor, I have been to the Tuesday Welsh Discussion Group at the Corris Institute twice and am starting a Welsh class in Dolgellau tomorrow (Monday, 19 Sep). And on Friday I will be attending a Noson Siarad Cymraeg, a night of talking Welsh. No Saesneg (English) allowed. I think I might be listening more than speaking. I have also been practising Duolingo Welsh, an online course, and listening to my downloaded Say Something In Welsh sound files. I’m hoping that I can have half-decent conversations with shopkeepers and people around Corris by the time I leave here.

Landscape
As my previous postings (here and here) can testify, I’ve been out and about in the Welsh landscape, even if my fitness level meant I haven’t quite been bounding through the land. In the two weeks I’ve been here I have had four walks in total and, once my knees recover from the Cadair Idris climb, I intend to walk three to four times a week, weather permitting. I feel quite at home in the landscape and become so absorbed in it that I sometimes forget to take notes of trees, bird sounds, colours of moss and stone for my book. I’ll manage better the more walks I do.

Below are photographs from a walk I took along Afon Dulas late in the day:

The start of the path along Afon Dulas. For some reason my camera was on a Soft Focus.
Night haze above the river
View downstream
That’s it for now. I hope your own works and days are going well. As always, I welcome any comments.

And more jackdaws, for those who remember my fascination with them last year. Photo was taken this morning.
The mist on the hills behind my bedroom

Cofion Cynnes
Earl



Monday 12 September 2016

Gwaith 2: A Simple Walk, or So I Thought

Helo Pawb

On Tuesday night (6 Sep), one of my fellow residents asked if I wanted to join her and the other resident on a long walk around a lake the following day. I immediately thought of Tal-y-llyn, a beautiful lake a few miles down the road.

Tal-y-llyn, taken during our descent. The surface looked like glittering tar.
She said the walk would take five and a half hours. This puzzled me, as the lake is small, but I thought the walk itself must take in some of the countryside as well and probably a waystop at a pub I knew was near the shoreline. Anyway, I agreed and set about organising my clothes and my pack.

The next morning I discovered the walk was in fact the Minffordd Track, a hike to the top of Cader Idris. It did involve going around a lake, Llyn Cau, which is at the centre of Cader Idris, but the walk is so much more.

Some of you might remember I attempted this track last year, though I made a little detour and ended up climbing from the lake up the inside of Cader Idris. By doing this, I actually missed the section of the walk that took in Craig Cau, which I would rectify with this walk.

Craig Cau
You might also remember that last year I attempted Cadair Idris in the final week of my eight-week residency at Stiwdio Maelor. During those weeks I did a number of local walks on a regular basis and so was reasonably fit. This week’s hike, however, took place after only one local walk and my fitness level barely coped. Luckily, my hiking companions, Freya and Yuki, made frequent ‘rock stops’, which helped me recover for the next stage and gave all of us time to appreciate the stunning landscape all around us.

The walk itself goes through a number of stages (*). Once you leave the Pay-as-You-Go car park (£5), you stroll through a lightly wooded area that includes some American redwoods, planted during the time of the Idris family estate.

Nant Cadair
On the early part of the walk
You then climb a steep ravine cut by a rushing stream, through a canopy of oak trees that provides cover for mosses, lichens and ferns.

Looking back down Nant Cadair
My hiking companions, Freya and Yuki
In the open mountain area beyond, you reach a fork in the path. You can go left, which takes you up the Minffordd Path, or go right, towards Llyn Cau, one of the deepest natural lakes in Wales. Last year I went right, then around the llyn and up the inside of the mountain. This time, we also went right, for a brief stay at the llyn before heading back to the Minffordd Path.

Llyn Cau, with Craig Cau on the left and the ascent to Penygadair on the right
The crystal clear water of Llyn Cau
Going past enormous rocks left behind the retreating glacier during the last Ice Age, you tackle another steep climb, which heads towards Craig Cau (rockwall). Every now and then you catch glimpses of Llyn Cau down sheer gullies.

A view of Llyn Cau down a gully
After resting at the top of Craig Cau, you descend down to a short flat section before the last climb along a slippery path through a rocky boulder field to Penygadair, the highest summit of Cadair Idris, which is marked by a pillar on top of a rocky knoll.

This is where I climbed out of the crater last year
During much of our climb, the summit was cloaked by cloud, but this cleared for our final ascent and our arrival.


View back towards Craig Cau

Although Cadair Idris is the 19th highest peak in Wales (893 m, 2,930 ft), it is the second most popular after Mount Snowdon. This is understandable given the magnificent views available on a clear day: west to the Barmouth estuary, east to the Cambrian Mountains, south to the Brecon Beacons, and north to the Rhinogs and the main Snowdonia massifs.


View to Barmouth
View west, with haze
View north
Video from Penygadair

After we rested at the knoll, enjoyed the far and wide vistas, and checked out the stone hut that proves useful in bad weather, we started our descent across a wide grassy ridge and then hugging the side of Mynydd Moel, which involved crossing a number of trickling streams and boggy areas.

Every now and then we stopped to take photos of the great views back to Craig Cau and Penygadair and marvel at how far we had come, how high we had climbed. The whole track is 4.4 kilometres (2.7 mi) long and involves two climbs of over 300 metres (980 ft), but the trip seemed so much longer and harder than this suggests (though this was probably more a reflection of my fitness ability than anything else).

Eventually, we came to a stile and began a steep descent on a loose, pebble-strewn path that after a while became welcoming slate steps.


View back, showing Llyn Cau, Craig Cau and the knoll of Penygadair. And we actually climbed that high!
Same view from even farther away!


After another stile, the path flattened out and we made our way to the stone bridge across the Nant Cadair, where we filled our water bottles with the brisk mountain water and cooled our heads.

Because of our regular ‘stone stops’, the hike was taking longer than expected. However, I joked during the descent that the reason I was lagging behind was to make sure we arrived back at Corris after The Slaters Arms opened, which Yuki and Freya thought sounded about right.
Soon we were retracing our footsteps down the ravine and through the woodland to the car park, where we unhitched our packs, took a few minutes to cool down our muscles, then jumped in the car for the drive back.

I ended the day with sore hips, knees, calves and feet, some sunburn and also sore shoulders, because of the weight of my over-prepared pack. All this was forgotten, however, in the coolness of that first beer and the achievement of having climbed and enjoyed the mountain for a second time, in a different season, with convivial companions.

Cadair Idris, Again
Always the mountain teaches you—
In bee-touch and staccato caw of circling crows
In star-moss, toppled trunks and swelling rowan berries
In quartz-laced rocks, in quickening shadow, in loose footing
In gouges, in jagged crags, in matted bulges, grey, green, brown
In mist, sweat, sunburn, sheep-dung and dying heather
In slow wind-shimmer across the lake far below
And always in gaping silence, as it waits

That’s it for now. As always, I welcome any comments.

Cofion Cynnes
Earl

(*) Some of the material I used comes from the Cadair Idris information booklet (www.naturalresources.wales) and the following websites:


Monday 5 September 2016

Gwaith 1: Starting My Residency

Haia Pawb/Hi Everyone

This blog entry is the first of my 2016 trip to Britain. Its title, Gwaith 1, refers to the Welsh word for ‘work’. This trip is all about working on and conducting research for my dark ages novel, with occasional visits with friends, and the Gwaith blog postings will record my journey for the five or so months I will be in the country.

Today (Sunday, 4 Sep 16) is the first full day of my second residency at Stiwdio Maelor in Corris, Wales. I arrived in the UK last Wednesday and travelled by train from Birmingham International (which has a great shuttle service from airport to train station) to Machynlleth. As I looked out the train window to watch the countryside fly past, with its masses of foxgloves, the deep, vibrant greens of oak and beech, the flat fields giving way to hills to mountains, I felt contentment at being in this land of my ancestors, which in turn filled me with hope for the task I had set myself, to finish the third draft of the novel.

In Machynlleth, Veronica, who established and runs the welcoming and inspirational Stiwdio Maelor, picked me up and took me to Dolgellau to stay with her until my residency started on Saturday. From Wednesday to Saturday, I battled jetlag, did a little research, and helped Veronica set up Maelor for Helfa Gelf, Art Hunt/Art Trail, a scheme where artists open their studios to the public. Maelor will open each Saturday in September, though not many people dropped in yesterday, mainly because of the weather. It was raining ‘old women and sticks’, as they say in the Welsh (Mae hi'n bwrw glaw hen wragedd a ffyn).

This morning, the weather had cleared and I went for a walk along the road leading out of Corris and then went up an old forestry track. As I strolled past hawthorn and blackthorn hedges, past oak, ash and rowan trees (with their bulging bunches of red berries), past stone channels and water courses jostling with rain burst, as I scrambled through a birch and fir wood along a soggy trail, as I listened to gossiping robins and finches, all the while foraging for blackberries, their juicy sweetness bursting in the mouth, I felt jetlag and creative concerns drop away, my whole body slowing to the open rhythms of the land. A good omen for my own ‘art hunt’.

Below are some photos taken during my walk:

A view up the valley towards Corris 
Tasty blackberries. If they come off the branch with a slight tug, they are juicy and sweet.
If more pressure is needed, they sometimes have a slight hardness and bitterness to them.
Rock and moss
Heather
Vigorous undergrowth

Rowan berries
Part of the forestry track




That’s it for now. I hope you will enjoy my postings from Britain and, as always, I welcome any comments.

Cofion Cynnes/Warm wishes
Earl