This week has seen the birthday of one of our sons – Tin (Martin). So we have been away for a few days in a lodge (fancy static caravan) near Newton Stewart, on the Scottish Borders. There is some fine walking around here which we have been enjoying with the dogs, but we have also been trying to dodge the big storms, bringing torrential rain and very strong winds.
Tin says I am lazy because I am not keen on walking in rain. I have also been told by innumerable hikers that “there is no such thing as bad weather – just bad clothing”. Personally I think this is hogwash. For me it is just not fun to be out in a hooley, with the rain lashing, or worse still, hail battering my face. When we were in Orkney before Christmas, there were at least three occasions when I came back from a walk utterly soaked. No fun.
There is however, something primitive and very satisfying about being inside in the warm during a storm. Perhaps it goes back to cave dwellers, huddled around an open fire, cooking whatever they had just hunted. I am hoping that in the next few days there will be snow, because I really love to see it falling when I am inside in the warm.
So that is what we are doing. Playing cards. Watching films. Cooking comfort food. Drinking whisky.
I am writing this at dawn, sitting in my lounge overlooking the entrance to Scapa Flow in Stromness. Stromness is the second town in Orkney and for the next month we are staying in a cottage that once who have been owned by a fisherman, with its own pier and tiny beach to launch the boats. Dawn here is currently a very civilised 07:40 so I have not had to get up early to see the sun rise. And boy is it beautiful. Here are a couple of pictures from a few days ago:
Since we arrived last Saturday, we have already fallen in love with this wonderful set of islands. It is true that you can have every season here in thirty minutes, and some of the landscape can be bleak. Very few trees grow here for instance. But because it is an archipelago, around every bend in the road, over every brow of a hill, you come across the most stunning views.
Out of season it feels as if we have the islands to ourselves. For instance the Ring of Brodgar is a Neolithic set of standing stones, as impressive as Stonehenge. But in Stonehenge you would be surrounded by coachloads of tourists, and kept a long way from the stones on fixed visiting paths. At Brodgar it was just us.
Quite a few restaurants are now closed for the season, but that has not stopped us finding the most wonderful food, including what we have cooked for ourselves. Sorry vegetarians, but picking our own lobsters straight off the fishing boat was wonderful. My son Tin is trained as a chef, and they tasted sooooo good.
I have to go now. A ferry awaits to take us to the island of Hoy, for another stunning walk, and my other son, Rob, is arriving for a few days. This is going to be some month.
On Thursday morning I woke up to sprinkling of snow on the ground. Snow in mid May is weird even for our very variable weather in the UK. This time last year we were in a heatwave and I was sitting outside in my shorts. I have a friend who insists on wearing shorts from April to October. He also will not turn the central heating on during this period. For me, short wearing is only for the hottest of weather. We have had the central heating on all year, and we even had a proper fire in our wood burning stove twice this week.
When we are in our narrowboat, cold mornings are a treat for me. It is a admittedly a shock to get out of a cozy bed, but a dash to the stern of the boat to turn the heating on, and within 40 minutes we are warm again. In mid-winter I love the sound of the ice cracking around the boat. Throughout the year, I love the mist rising from a cold canal as the morning sun’s rays first begin to warm the day.
I am missing the sun. In previous years I could travel to warmer countries, either with work, or for holidays. Since the first lockdown, that has all gone, and we are down to the vagaries of the British weather. I saw a post this week from a fellow Scottish retiree, who lives in Crete and was complaining about 38 degrees of heat. She got a lot of responses from here saying we could all do with a few days of that.
Ah well. It is the most British of past times to complain about the weather. I know there are more important things going on in the world. But snow in mid May?