Post Holiday Blues

Some places in the world are special.  We were first captivated by the magic of the Outer Hebrides some 20 years ago and repeat visits over the past two decades have done nothing to diminish our enchantment.  We’ve discovered  secret beaches, with sand as white as snow, and dramatic coves with soaring sea cliffs where waves lash the ancient rocks and sea birds wheel overhead, calling in the wind. There are hidden crofts and sheilings, nestling by mysterious lochs in the shadow of brooding mountains, with views stretching to the edge of the world. Oh to be back there now!

Headlining with Sir Tom Jones (well sort of!!)

I don’t imagine that Nerea and Sir Tom Jones will appear on the same photographic headline again but at least it happened once! Nerea might have preferred to be wearing something rather more glamorous than her electrican’s overalls but that’s “not unusual”!

And the background to this unlikely scenario? Nerea and her friend Cassie were recently interviewed about women working in male dominated trades. As luck would have it, Sir Tom comes to Carlisle on Friday and Carlisle Guide, a local magazine, featured both the interview and an article on the Welsh Silver Fox himself in their July/August issue. Yeah!

The Pennine Way

Oh dear!  A new TV programme has  launched, celebrating 50 years of the Pennine Way National Trail.  It was September 1989 when Mr Glis and I set off from Edale with our trusty dome tent, 35lb rucksacks, and equal amounts of enthusiasm. Several tons of bog and 16 days later, we strode into Kirk Yetholm feeling fitter than ever before, having walked 270 miles of some of the most stunning but challenging terrain in England.  Watching the programme has whetted our appetite to return to this wonderful walk that meanders up the backbone of the country.  I’m feeling exhausted already

A very rare sighting of the lesser moustachioed Mr B.

Sights along the route

GOLDEN GIRL

Proud Parents with Nerea

On 2 July, Andy, Nerea and I went to Holyrood Palace for Nerea’s Gold Duke of Edinburgh’s Award presentation. The Duke himself was in attendance and despite being 94, was as sprightly and sharp as ever, striding about the grounds chatting to the groups of young people there. Nerea’s group ambassador, the inspirational Julie McElroy presented the certificates after the Duke moved on, speaking convincingly about her life experiences and challenges. 
Andy and I are enormously proud of our beautiful, confident and articulate daughter, and the determination, resilience and commitment she demonstrated in achieving all three levels of the award.

The Duke of Edinburgh

Julie and Nerea

With Alex at the post presentation celebratory dinner

The Great Aunt

It’s official. I am now a “Great Aunt”, albeit by marriage.

Andy’s niece Hannah, and her husband Marcus became the proud parents of Florence Jayne on Monday afternoon. Florence weighed in at 6lb.13oz and has, needless to say, captivated all, not least her doting parents and other relatives and friends.  When Nerea (first cousin, once removed) and I worked out our respective relationships to the newest family member, I immediately thought of Nancy and Peggy Blackett’s Great Aunt, immortalised in the Swallows and Amazons books and decided that I needed to behave with more decorum, as befitting my new status

The Lewis Chessmen

Camping near Uig, inevitably we visited the beach where the famous Lewis chess pieces were found in 1831. The treasure trove of elaborately carved walrus ivory and whales’ teeth was discovered, somewhat mysteriously, in a drystone kist in a sand dune. As the “rooks” are carved in the form of Berserkers, mythical warriors featured in Nordic Sagas, the most likely origin of the pieces is 12th Century Norwegian. The giant replica King, sculpted by Stephen Hayward, sits proudly on the edge of the dunes where the 93 pieces were hidden, possibly stolen from a merchant travelling between Norway and Ireland

The Herring Girls

During the early 20th century, fishing ports of Scotland were packed with “Herring Girls” who followed the fishing fleet from port to port throughout the summer, cleaning herring. With little other work available for women, even though it was hard and poorly paid, it provided an essential income along with the company of other women, as they gutted and packed the fish. Sadly, the industry declined after WWII and life of the “Herring Girls” passed into history. But, with Fleetwood fishing blood running through my veins, I was delighted to discover their lives were celebrated by two statues in Stornoway.

In search of crime!

One of the unexpected delights of our Hebridean holiday was being able to put into geographical context, some of the locations used by Peter May for settings in his Lewis Trilogy of crime novels.  We didn’t embark on a pilgrimage but as Lewis has so few roads and populated communities, it was inevitable that we would stumble across them we explored.  Accidentally discovering the derelict cottage at Skigersta, used as the model for Fin’s aunt’s house (identified in Peter May’s book, “Hebrides” with photographs by David Wilson) was a wonderful bonus after our enthusiastic exploration of Ness, Uig and Barvas 

Fin's Aunt's House

Mangersta Beach

A Lonely Moorland Sheiling

The Butt of Lewis

The Butt of Lewis, is an awesome but lonely, frightening place.  At the very tip of Lewis, the waves crash over the rocks, a sight all the more terrible when the wind is strong and the seas are rough. The rugged cliffs rearing up from the boiling water below, are steep, cracked and ravaged by the water and weather for millenia.  The lighthouse, manned until 1998, was originally fuelled by fish oil before that was replaced with paraffin and then electricity.  Now monitored remotely from Edinburgh, a lighthouse keeper no longer routinely climbs the 168 steps to maintain the light.

St Kilda weaves her magic (a "thrabble of 300 words!)

As hoped, we were captivated by the charm of St Kilda when, during our recent holiday in the Outer Hebrides, we finally achieved a long held ambition to visit. As we sailed across on Seatrek’s boat, Lochlann, from Miavaig, we spotted Minke whales, dolphins and basking sharks.  It was simply breath-taking to see the islands appear, rising out of the water like jagged teeth, the grey cliffs shimmering as the sunlight reflected off the white feathers of hundreds of nesting birds.

Our skipper took us past the cliffs of Boreray before heading into the Village Bay on Hirta. Then, it was into the tender for the short transfer onto the island. We hiked upto The Gap before climbing up to the summit of Conachair. We were blessed with panoramic views over to Boreray, Stac Lee and Stac an Armin  in the North and to the distant outlines of the Hebrides themselves to the East.  

Once down at the village via Mullach Mor and Mullach Sgar , we ambled along the street, where even the sunny afternoon couldn't dispel the lingering ghosts around the ruined houses. The voices of the women chattering as they plucked the birds were a whisper on the wind and the harsh cries of the men, clambering barefoot down the cliffs in search of eggs were echoes in the calls of the skuas and gannets.

Fanciful imaginings put aside, we browsed in the museum, saddened to read of the contributory factors that brought about the decline of the community.  Soon it was time to return to the harbour area and the journey back to Lewis, but not before the Lochlann skipper had taken us round the island and close into Stack Lee to admire the thousands of sea birds soaring above us or nesting on the cliff

Anything but a Hebridean Idyll

Our Hebridean idyll began in anything but idyllic conditions! Despite the millpond crossing from Oban, our arrival at the delightful Borve campsite was met with raging winds and a sporty tent pitching!  Having survived that, we felt we could survive anything.  In true Hebridean style, two beautiful days on Barra lulled us into a false sense of security, before being put to the test again on South Uist.  In order to avoid the carnage experienced by a neighbouring tent, we had to act as human brace poles in Force 8 gales. But at least it was too windy for midgies!