unwelcome guests

In addition to testing positive for covid-19 two days after returning to Hong Kong and the subsequent 11 days in isolation, another surprise awaited when we finally got home. In April 2020, I wrote about ‘an uninvited guest’, a mere potter wasp that had decided to construct a ‘nest’ on our balcony. But potter wasps are solitary creatures, and what this individual was building was merely a series of three processed mud ‘pods’, each of which would house just one larva. And I did get some great photos, including one that showed a large, live caterpillar being pushed carefully through the entrance hole, which would subsequently be sealed, to serve as food for the growing youngster inside. We even saw the potter wasp’s handiwork being parasitized by a cuckoo wasp, which behaves exactly like you would expect with such a name.

This time, however, the situation was far more serious. We discovered a huge hornets’ nest on our roof:

This is a closer view of the nest:

We needed to call in the cavalry, in this case a team from the Agriculture, Fisheries and Conservation Department, to remove it safely. We weren’t sure how long this was likely to take, and I took a few more photos five days after the initial discovery:

I also shot a short video:

However, shortly after taking these photos and shooting the video, Paula called me to let me know that a team from the Ag&Fish was on its way. When they arrived, I took them up to the roof to show them the nest, and I took this final photo:

When the team had finished its work, I was warned not to go up onto the roof for a few days. At the time, I thought that this was because returning hornets would be seriously pissed off to discover that their home had been destroyed, but when we did go up again, we found that the floor was littered with dead bodies, from which I conclude that the team used a powerful insecticide in addition to removing the nest itself. This is what the nest site looks like now:

When we first discovered our unwanted guests, I did wonder whether we were hosting Asian giant hornets, which have been reported in Hong Kong, but when I did some research, I learned that these so-called ‘murder hornets’ grow up to 45mm in length. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to have been wrong about something!

favourite photos: summer 2022

At the end of each summer spent in the UK, I compile a collection of what I consider the most interesting photos that I’ve taken during this period. As usual, I haven’t included any photos that I’ve used to illustrate other posts. I usually compile these collections before leaving, but this summer Paula and I did several new bike rides, and by the time I’d written the accounts of these rides, it was time to leave. Then, having tested positive for covid-19, I wanted to write about our travails first. However, here, finally, is my photo selection for summer 2022.

I take a lot of photos of flowers, but I was particularly struck by a tight clump of yellow flowers on a wall at the start of the path that leads from Gilwilly to the Thacka Beck Nature Reserve. I haven’t seen anything else like it; it almost looks as though it was planted here deliberately by someone:

I also take a lot of photos of graffiti, although I have to say that Penrith isn’t notable for the quality of its graffiti. However, I found this example, on the unnamed road that leads from Brunswick Terrace to the ‘wooden bridge’, wryly amusing. It had been painted over a few weeks after I took the photo:

I don’t know who placed this foxy animal doll on a gate next to the road that leads from Thacka to Newton Rigg. Presumably, it is guarding whatever is in the field behind:

I don’t seem to see many oil spills nowadays, but I always photograph them when I do see them:

At the beginning of July, Paula and I decided to follow a public footpath to Stainton, a large village a couple of miles west of Penrith. The landscape here has changed beyond recognition in the past 60 years, but the footpath still exists. This is how it crosses the motorway nowadays:

The continuation of the footpath is through a wheat field:

This ‘tag’ is on the opposite side of the railway bridge over the motorway. It is very basic in execution, with none of the artistic flourishes that are standard in the graffiti that I’ve seen in places like Manchester:

Another public footpath that we follow regularly is between Beacon Edge and Carleton, where I took this photo of Highland cattle taking a rest, with the Pennines in the distance:

Whenever we cycle south of Penrith, we ride down Frenchfield, which is a dead end for motor traffic, and pass underneath the A66 via this short tunnel:

When I was growing up, the path to Stainton (see above) started from the end of Myers Lane, which runs alongside the railway. This first section still exists, but nowadays it leads only to the Penrith Industrial Estate. This photo was taken near the start of the path and shows a large stand of rose bay willow herb, a common flower on roadsides and railway embankments:

This summer, I took quite a lot of photos of the sun rising or setting from the top floor of our house, which I intend to compile into a separate post at some stage. This is the only sunset photo that I took away from home, on my way home after an afternoon in the pub. If you’re familiar with Penrith, you can probably guess which pub I’d been drinking in:

As you’ve probably already realized, I like to take photos that are, on the face of it, quite bizarre. The next photo was taken near the Friargate end of Bishop’s Yard and shows what is ostensibly a private garden. The sign next to the straw-stuffed figure on the left reads ‘A Faithful Friend’. I had no idea what the sign on the bench means, but when I googled it, I discovered that Utrinque Paratus (‘Ready for Anything’) is the motto of the Parachute Regiment:

Although we covered a lot of new ground cycling this summer, we cycled to Ullswater on just one occasion. I took this photo as we descended from Bennet Head Farm:

We did cycle to Howtown, on the far side of the lake, for the first time on this ride, which is where I took this photo of a solitary duck:

I photographed this large stand of golden rod in the Thacka Beck Nature Reserve:

Our house in Penrith is in an area of Victorian terraces, and I took the next photo from our back door. It shows a large number of starlings on the roofs, chimney pots and TV aerials of the houses in the next street:

The next photo was also taken in the Thacka Beck Nature Reserve. It shows Paula trying to get a close-up photo of one of the cows that had been brought in for the summer to graze the central area, which is fenced off. This practice had been suspended for the past two years, presumably because of covid restrictions. I don’t know what breed these cows are, but we’ve been seeing more and more in the past few years. We just refer to them as ‘banded cows’:

I don’t usually include videos in these collections, but after taking the previous photo, I turned my attention to the large number of ducks on the pond:

The next photo was taken from Langwathby Bridge and is a view of the River Eden downstream from the bridge:

…while this photo was taken on Langwathby village green. It shows a bracket fungus on the remains of a tree stump next to the bench where we always stop for a brief rest when cycling through this village:

The next image is a telephoto of Blencathra taken from the summit of the Beacon. This mountain is visible from many of the higher parts of Penrith, although the Beacon is the only place from where such an unimpeded view is possible:

We walked up the Beacon via what was the only path to the top when I was growing up, but there is now an access path that starts near the Roundthorn Hotel. We descended via this path, and on the way I spotted this impressive example of bracket fungus by the side of the path. There is also a cluster of toadstools on the bottom left, and the tiny grey/white dots to the left of the hollow in the tree stump also appear to be toadstools:

The next four photos were taken from the footpath between Beacon Edge and Carleton, from where I’d taken the photo of Highland cattle earlier (above). The first is a general view of the path, with two horses on the left and some Highland cattle on the right. The second shows a Highland calf suckling, while the third and fourth are close-ups of the horses, which were very friendly—they liked being stroked, which may be why they were standing next to the path in the first place:

I don’t often take general photos of Penrith town centre, but then I rarely get a chance to stand in the middle of the road to take a photo, and I’d never previously noticed that the steeple of the former Congregational Church in Duke Street is visible through ‘the narrows’, the reason why Penrith was such a notorious bottleneck in pre-motorway days. I don’t know why there was no traffic on this occasion:

The last photo in this collection—and the last that I took in the UK before we departed for Hong Kong—was taken in Manchester Airport. It appears to be some kind of advert, although I don’t recognize the make of car. The slogan ‘It’s a steal’ seems to imply that the two humanoids suspended upside down are in the process of trying to steal the car:

isolation zone

When I tested positive for covid-19 just over two weeks ago, I was sent to a so-called ‘isolation hotel’ on the remote island of Lantau. Paula had to come too, if only because we’d been in close contact. When we arrived at the Novotel, I was dismayed to learn that we had been assigned separate rooms—on the 15th floor—but was relieved to discover that they were connected internally:

The photo above was taken from my room; and this was the view from my window:

Overall, the view wasn’t nearly as interesting as that from the window of our quarantine hotel, details of which I posted in q – 37. Here are four views across Tung Chung Bay, which was as far to the left as it was possible to see from my room, looking towards the airport:

They were taken on different days. Notice the light blue buildings next to the shore; I believe that they are a ‘regular’ isolation centre, and I’m relieved that we didn’t end up there. Incidentally, I saw just three planes taking off during the 11 days that we were incarcerated, which reflects how little traffic is passing through Hong Kong’s airport nowadays.

And here are four views looking as far right as possible:

I don’t know the name of the mountain, but it’s a reasonable assumption that there’s a good footpath along the skyline.

This is a general view of the estate directly in front of my window:

…while this is a similar view with long shadows cast by the westering sun:

…and this photo shows the sun reflecting on the windows of the far line of four blocks:

And this is a night-time view of the line of residential blocks:

As I reported in According to Plan?, the orange lights on the top of each block came on each evening at precisely 8pm and went off again at 10pm.

This is a view of the street directly below our rooms:

There are certainly a lot of trees!

And this is a night-time view of approximately the same area:

The diagonal structure that you can see in the last two photos is a pedestrian bridge. It carried quite a lot of traffic, but I never saw anyone emerging into the open on the far right. However, when we finally left and were heading for Tung Chung station, we did find out where all the people went after disappearing from view at the right-hand end of the footbridge. A shopping mall:

There was one other feature that I could see from my room:

This is some kind of ornamental garden, which I assumed was part of the hotel. This conjecture was confirmed when we finally left, when I noticed a photo of the garden in the lift taking us down to check-out. However, I saw just one person here during our stay, which I assumed was the gardener. The irregular blocks appear to be part of some kind of water feature, although no water was flowing during our stay.

Finally, what was the food like in the Novotel. There was certainly a lot of it, although I couldn’t finish many of the main meals. Here are two that I did polish off:

The one thing I remember here is the struggle to open the door—and keep it open while collecting each meal from the small table just outside, the delivery of which was announced by a sharp knock on the door. The hydraulic door-closing mechanism was clearly set to maximum!