Winter-spring 2026: the loud lie

Here’s my seasonal cultural digest to try and make me appear interesting.

2026 so far has been an absolute washout – hence the pic of a flooded South Downs Way from 30th January. Some places have seen 40 days of continuous rain, and a record lack of sunlight. Sunlight!

Similarly cloudy are the events taking place in America. Rick Steves is probably better known in the U.S. for his travel programmes, but in the speech below he explains how the American president is following the dictators’ rulebook in establishing an authoritarian state. Even the travel man is speaking out, it must be serious.

While I don’t live in America, I know that Americans read my blog (a lot of you from Portland for some reason). There are few countries that influence the UK more than the U.S.. In Britain we need to stand up to the same wannabe autocrats, policies and ideas.

Time for the fluffy stuff.

What I’m writing

I’ve been trying to write more in-depth posts based on walks I’ve done in recent years. In 2026 I’ve published two that took two years to get round to. It’s probably because they are from January 2024 when there were no insects and very few mushrooms to be seen! Soz blogs.

If you’re a regular reader expect one longer blog a month with more local history, if I can cope with doing this alongside full time work and human life.

In January I posted Along the South Downs from Washington to Bramber

In February I posted Arun valley oaks around Billingshurst

With these posts I want to research them as much as I can before posting. The problem with frequent blogging is that you don’t have the time to look deeper into the places you’re presenting. It’s important to me that I can improve my knowledge and embellish what are already very enjoyable walks in the first place, by walking them again on my blog.

I have another Sussex blog about a walk to the mysterious Brambletye ruins from 2024 which I’m aiming to post in the coming months.

North Mayo Coast, September 2025

My Ireland 2025 blogs are still brewing. I’m trying to confirm some species IDs of marine life through iNaturalist but it’s proving tricky. I still have one about Rathcroghan (the birthplace of Halloween) to write. Endless content, folks!

What I’m recording

In the next couple of months I’ll have a new booklet of poems available for purchase. In the meantime, I’ve published a reading of those poems, Fool’s Wood, on my Bandcamp page for your guaranteed enjoyment.

In November I recorded a conversation with Oli Steadman from the band Stornoway! Oli was preparing to walk 30 miles around London’s mythical Great North Wood in aid of a woodland conservation project in Brockley, south-east London. What a nice chap, I very much enjoyed speaking to Oli and believe his walk was a success and the funding target has been reached.

What I’m reading

Joseph Roth (right) with Stefan Zweig, fellow Austrian author (Lotte Altmann (attributed), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

In autumn and winter of 2025 I binged the novels of Joseph Roth (1894-1939), an Austrian Jewish author. I read The Radetzky March, Diary of the Holy Drinker, The Emperor’s Tomb and Job. My long-First World War phase seems to have morphed into a Habsburg Empire sub-phase. I blame recent visits to Austria for that.

I also enjoyed most of Roth’s journalism in The Hotel Years. This quote reminded me of what is happening in America:

The epoch-making discovery of modern dictatorships is the invention of the loud lie, based on the psychologically correct assumption that people will believe a shout when they doubt speech.

Joseph Roth, The Hotel Years, p.231

Roth escaped Austria and Germany to live in Paris when Hitler came to power in the 1930s, but his writing provides glimpses of the Nazi movement’s appearance in Austro-German society after the end of the First World War. He died in 1939 related to the affects of alcoholism, so was spared the horror of the Second World War and the holocaust.

I think his quote is reflective of America now because of Trump’s lies about the 2020 election, where he was well-beaten by Joe Biden but continues to lie and claim it was ‘stolen’ from him. This is among many thousands of other untruths. It is the lie that underpins his attacks on American (and now international) democracy. Hitler used the same tactic against Jewish people, as Roth’s quote above suggests. Though it’s not 1933, the authoritarian playbook is the same.

Meanwhile, over Christmas my sister encouraged me to read The Mushroom Tapes, a book by three journalists about the deathcap poisonings in Australia. It’s a story I’ve not really engaged with until this point, mainly because it just seemed so obvious. As someone who uses iNaturalist a lot, the idea that you would look for the locations of deathcaps online, visit the locations, and then be accused of putting those deadly mushrooms into food that ended up causing serious illness and fatalities, erm… it could only be for one reason.

The book has a good chapter about the science of the mushrooms themselves, which are actually introduced to Australia through the incorporation of European tree species into Australian landscapes, and they’re spreading. The same is said for fly agaric, which has travelled around the world to new locations because of their pesky partnerships with the roots of European tree species. Ash dieback anyone?

In January listened to the audiobook of Claire Tomalin’s Charles Dickens: A Life. This was after my first successful attempt at reading the actual story of A Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve. Moving on to Oliver Twist I’ve found it quite a difficult read, perhaps because I’m reading it while not on holiday when I have more mental space to accommodate fiction. I was surprised by the bigoted representation of Irish people (‘generally the lowest orders of anything’, p.70), and the antisemitic characterisation of Fagan, which Dickens was challenged about at the time. The Irish comment is pretty harsh seeing as the whole point of Oliver Twist is to raise up the Victorian poor and hungry, and spotlight their plight – are Dickensian Irish people beneath even that? The novel was published in the ‘hungry forties’ of the 1800s, when Irish people were starving to death during the Great Famine, an atrocity that the English did not do anywhere near enough to remedy, and arguably prolonged.

Looking further into these issues, it appears Dickens was a champion of the anti-slavery movement, but expressed further troubling views about other groups of people. There’s a whole Wikipedia page dedicated to this topic. Very little of this is covered in Tomalin’s book.

Dickens comes across as a prolific writer but rather strange character, who doesn’t treat his wife Catherine well. In many ways his story is an example of what fame and ego can do to a person. I was interested in his apparent addiction to walking, and enjoyed the references to Peckham, where he visited his ‘mistress’ Ellen Ternan by train from Kent.

What I’m hearing

A new Big Thief album came out last year and I’ve been spinning the CD. How Could I Have Known is one of my favourites. They are a stupendous band, even if they are now operating as a trio.

The lead singer of Big Thief is Adrienne Lenker and she has some albums of her own which I’m also enjoying.

What I’m watching

I watched this wonderful film about windmills on the BBC Archive YouTube account. There are so many good videos on that account, it’s well worth having a look. I think that the quality of television has changed and declined (I have a masters in this so you can’t disagree with me). This isn’t necessarily an issue of stories, but production. These slow, patient films are much more rewarding than the hyper-editing of current Netflix or reality TV productions. All in all, they’re just wonderful examples of the past 75 years of Britain, Ireland and further afield.

Thanks for reading.

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Austrian Alps: up and down Schafberg

Schafberg, Salzkammergut, Austria, June 2025

Welcome to a big blog of sunny alpine images, from my walking highlight of the year so far. Down we go!

My wife and I travelled by train to the Austrian Alps this summer, and we took one more train to reach the top of Schafberg (1782m) – the Schafbergbahn.

The images here are in chronological order as we descended, trying not to be too distracted as we picked our way down through the rocky tracks. I would recommend using at least one walking pole while doing this walk because it is so steep. The walk was nearly 8 miles and took us about 5 hours (because I stop a lot to take photos).

To the south-west you can see the high peaks of the Dachstein range (3600m), an area we haven’t explored yet.

The dramatic peak of Spinnerin seen from the top of Schafberg

This walk is simply heading down the main (uneven and steep) paths to Wolfgangsee, ending up at St. Gilgen. You can do this as a daytrip from Salzburg, but you need to get the boat to the train station.

You can stay on Schafberg for the night in the hotel, or you can just have lunch and enjoy the views.

You’ll have to get approval from the alpine choughs though, they rule the roost up there.

The first inverts I noticed were these hoverflies (probably droneflies) feeding on this brassica.

This willow shrub was growing out of one of the viewpoints (see below), and had lots of insects waiting for their close up. This is a saw-fly.

This chrome beetle is in the Genus Chrysolina.

This is one of the Cercopis froghoppers.

To put these pics in context, here’s me taking the photos above!

And a video to show some of the lakes to the north.

I love scorpion-flies and this photo nicely shows the faux-stinger on the insect’s tail. This landed on my wife’s arm, as with the images below.

This is one of those tiny solitary wasps, possibly a gall-wasp.

Globeflower is a common occurrence in the Alps.

Mountain pine is like a shrub dotted around the alpine grasslands.

The limestone can be seen where the grasslands can’t grow. Thankfully the decline wasn’t as steep as this on the main path, but it wasn’t that far off.

The butterflies were not as numerous as they were lower down on Zwölferhorn, but there were a good number of fritillaries. iNaturalist is suggesting this is pearl-bordered frit.

On the rocky outcrops of the path the flowers were a-bloomin’. This is kidney-vetch, unless I’m mistaken.

Silvery-yarrow is a new species for me.

Globe flowers are a group I remember well from the Swiss Alps, they are probably more of a spring species than in mid-June. Not to be confused with the buttercup globeflower seen above.

I think this is rock thyme, which looks a lot like ground-ivy.

The views are spectacular along this part of the walk, so it’s a matter of looking at the plants and butterflies around your feet, and the vistas beyond, without tripping up!

The train meets you as the steepest stretch of the walk comes to an end. The gradient is nicely illustrated here.

You pass the Gasthof Schafberg-Alpe which is not in use at the moment. It’s the site of the station before the top of Schafberg. You can jump out here and walk up, or get the train back down. We continued on to St. Gilgen, down through the woods.

The ground levels out here and the walking is gentler for a time. The views are some of the most awe-inspiring I’ve encountered.

There are a number of wooden huts in this part of the walk, which make for helpful foreground subjects, with Dachstein in the distance.

As per my previous Austrian Alps post, the only orchids on show were early-purples.

The meadows were looking mighty fine.

It’s at this point that you can see how far you’ve come (literally) as the path then moves into woodland.

The shade was welcome, but it was very steep and winding.

This is probably another pearl-bordered frit, feeding on a plant I actually have in my garden here but that grows wild in the mountains – perennial cornflower.

Don’t worry you can’t get poisoned through your screen. This is deadly nightshade, also known as henbane, growing in the woods below Schafberg.

Now, this is the biggest orchid I’ve ever seen. My foot in the image on the right should show just how tall this is – knee-height. Does anyone know what on earth is happening here – is it some kind of hybrid?

This is an out-of-focus phone pic but it’s a species I don’t see often – spiked rampion.

On a fallen tree across the track I found a nice collection of wolf’s milk slime mould. I was too tired to pop them.

We arrived in the village of Winkl and soon we were among hay meadows.

This brown-black carpenter ant was poised on a fencepost, perfect for a pic. There were a couple higher up on Schafberg, so it must have been one of their ‘flying-ant days’ as we say in England.

Another species that I only see when in Europe is this buck’s-beard, growing at the roadside.

Having descended to the shore of Wolfgangsee, there were these lovely willow-leaved yellow oxeyes growing at the edge of the path.

To end, I was quite tired by this point and wondered what on earth was happening. This is a mix of phone pics and mirrorless camera pics, of the scene of a dead horsefly being eaten by a cinnamon bug. If you look more closely you can see a red mite on the head of the bug, so the mite is the winner!

Thanks for reading.

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Swiss Alps: alpine wildflowers on Männlichen 🇨🇭

The Jungfrau, Switzerland, May 2024

Carrying on from the magnificent meadows of Grindelwald post, this post covers some of the alpine plants my wife and I saw on our honeymoon hike around Männlichen in May 2024.

The view from Männlichen

It was rather wintry atop the peaks of the Jungfrau with snow still covering grasslands above the treeline.

The Jungfrau peaks left to right: the Eiger, Jungfrau and Mönch

The Peaks of the Jungfrau

Männlichen is accessible via gondola from the Grindelwald Terminal station. The Grindelwald stations can be confusing so do look into it to ensure you don’t get off at the wrong station, wherever you’re going.

View into the Lauterbrunnen Valley from Männlichen

When you reach the gondola station you alight at 2220m. Here you get fantastic views of the major peaks of the Jungfrau – Eiger (Ogre, 3970m), Jungfrau (Young Girl, 4105m), and Mönch (Monk, 4107m).

As it was still snowy and we were only kitted out for ice-free hillwalking, we walked down to the middle gondola station on the road.

Along the way we saw a lot of nice wildflowers, most of which we hadn’t seen before.

Wildflowers near Männlichen (2200-1800m)

The most dominant flower was a species of crocus that was appearing from under the snow.

This shows that rather nicely.

White crocus (Crocus vernus), and a purple variety:

Meadow saffron always come to mind.

A nice surprise was this spring pasqueflower (Pulsatilla vernalis) close to the top where the first rocks were appearing from the snow.

They are rather hairy.

Pasqueflower is found on chalk and limestone grassland in England, though I’ve never seen it. The Cotswolds is a stronghold.

It’s almost as hairy as a bat, or a tarantula.

Appearing from the snow was another new plant for me – rusty-leaved alpenrose (Rhododendron ferrugineum).

I’ve never seen any species of rhododendron in their natural habitat. I’m used to seeing the ornamental versions either in gardens or when they escape and cause harm in other habitats.

Snowbell (Soldanella alpina) is a plant I’ve seen in the Bavarian Alps but I’m not there often, so this is a nice thing to see.

The flowers are very ornate, though most flowers are! They look like paper lampshades.

Purple mountain saxifrage (Saxifraga oppositifolia), not well represented in these pics, and probably quite early in its growth.

This is probably mountain everlasting (Antennaria dioica).

Now this has a great name – sweetflower rockjasmine (Androsace chamaejasme). Sounds like a James Taylor song.

One of the joys of the Alps for us was seeing the range of gentians. They are a stunning blue colour, the kind of vibrancy that only wildlife can muster naturally. This is probably trumpet gentian (Gentiana acaulis).

Birds-eye primrose is a species I’ve only ever seen in the Yorkshire Dales before, near Malham Tarn. The slopes down from Männlichen did have a moorland feel to them, like the Dales does.

Colts foot is one of the first spring flowers and these were very high up. Hardy daisies indeed.

Bright little lion’s manes, though not purely alpine in their habitat preferences.

This is probably cow berry (Vaccinium vitis-idae), a relative of bilberry.

I’m fairly sure this is bilberry.

Oxlips are no longer common in England, and I can only ever remember seeing them in Germany or Czechia in spring.

I think these may be oxlips, but their abundance has thrown me. This was near to the middle gondola station on the way down.

Jostling for prominence.

Nearby to them was this lovely plant, yellow star of Bethlehem. If only peace could come to that part of the world today.

Next I’ll be covering more woodland finds around Grindelwald, and later in the mountains around Lake Brienz. Then it will be what everyone seems to navigate to this website for – sycamore content.

Thanks for reading.

I write these blogs in my spare time because I want to raise awareness about the beauty and diversity of our landscapes. If you enjoy reading them you can support my blog here.

February sunset in the Arun valley

Amberley, West Sussex, February 2024

Here’s the best image I captured while waiting for the sun to disappear over the Downs recently. To the right hand side of the image (north) you can see the Arun flooding the area known as Amberley Wildbrooks. It was surprisingly mild up there but as the sun slid away the cool air arrived with the moon. Red kites floated overhead and trains echoed through the valley on their way to Arundel. A beautiful evening in a special place.

Support for people in Ukraine 🇺🇦

Some ways to feel less helpless about Putin’s war-crimes/terrorism/illegal attacks in Ukraine:

Thanks. Stop the War. Solidarity with the people of Ukraine.

Nightingale singing at Blean Woods, Kent, Monday 6th May 2013

First time I’ve heard this iconic and declining bird. Listen for the machine gun fire of drips and drops. Also the ‘whee-whee-wheeee’ wheezy call. There are a few warblers in the background which might confuse things.

The habitat you can see is coppiced birch trees with a few maturing sessile oaks in the background. Birch trees can be cut right down to the base on a cycle of between 7-12 years or so and they will grow back vigorously. This creates the dense vegetation that the naturally elusive – to the eyes – nightingale depends on to breed. Blean also holds one of England’s few colonies of heath fritillary butterfly which will benefit from the sunlight reaped by coppicing.