CAZZ'S CORNER

The East Neuk Festival

2010-07-10T07:15:00.000-07:00

I spent the beginning of July in St Andrews, a first for me, although I’ve visited the place often enough over the years. Crail was the family holiday destination each year. We took a house in a terrace of Victorian villas, perched on the headland, overlooking the harbour for two weeks.

Before the Beeching cuts in the 1960s, excitement began to mount as we changed trains at Thornton Junction. We were almost there. The wicker hamper with the bed linen had been sent on ahead, so all we had to do was struggle with the suitcases, heavy to begin with, leather and no wheels.

Crail is still as charming as ever, apart from all the new build fancy homes, which attract many retirees. I felt a lack of youth and vigour about the place, despite the fancy deli and galleries. I expect in the summer months, the Sauchope Caravan Park has plenty of young blood to contend with.

Between concerts, there was lots of time to explore St Andrews and surrounding areas. I wanted to get to know Anstruther and Pittenweem more thoroughly and walked some of the coastal path. I remember doing this in my youth, as it has always been there, but very nicely laid out now, making it user friendly in terms of doing bits of it and tying in with local transport.

Pittenweem has a gorgeous Chocolate Shop, real ingredients and an interesting cave, St Fillans, which was locked. As it was too hot to be bothered getting the key, I took a photo through the bars. Couldn’t see anything at the time, but the flash has picked up some detail. Maybe on another visit.

Anstruther has long parallel streets with high tenement houses and narrow lanes at right angles leading to drying areas at shore level. These Fife villages in the East Neuk are very well preserved, with their pantile roofs and crowstep gables.

This was a first visit to the East Neuk Festival and the concerts were first rate and memorable. Artists included the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, The Belcea Quartet and Tallis Scholars. The concert in St Andrews Church with works like: Tallis – Spem in alium, Strauss – Metamorphosen and Vaughan Williams – Fantasia [T. Tallis] was breathtaking.

We stayed in a very elegant flat overlooking the Byre Theatre
and it was a real pleasure to sit in its garden underneath the huge cherry and drink chilled Vouvray at the end of the day. It was a very hot week weatherwise and I don’t remember enjoying the attractions of St Andrews so much.

I had to enclose a photo of the coathanger head I came across in the museum. Totally made out of coathangers and apparently the expression is true to life.

I couldn't resist the perfectly restored earth closet in the garden of the small museum in North Street, I think. No, I didn't use it, but dashed off to our flat nearby!

Cazz's Catchup

2010-07-07T08:33:00.000-07:00

I’m very behind in my blogging, having written nothing for over six months, but it’s not that I’ve been too busy or too lazy – hmmn, maybe a bit of the latter, just haven’t got around to it. Perhaps I feel I haven’t enough exciting news or information to impart. Let’s see.

Got an offer of a new car if I kept my payments going for another three years, so am now running around in a nice shiny red one. I love it. New cars every so often have been my luxury and probably the reason why I am just solvent and not well off. I know they are a complete waste of money, but I feel secure about doing long distances and love the feeling of having something new nobody’s used before me.

I feel even better with my sat nav. Although they are flawed and you still have to rely on good old maps, I like the way you can keep your eye on it and the road as it lets you know the next junction or turn. Even though I’ve ended up in the wrong place, I’m never far from where I should be. Ain’t technology grand!

Anyway, moving on, I’ve been up and down to Skye, but we’ve all been there in previous posts.
I was at a 60th party and of course, staying next to the lovely garden at An Acarsaid, which is probably in its last season of being open to the public. Take the opportunity to see it, you won’t be disappointed.

I also had my usual week on Raasay and our usual good weather. All in all, I’ve been very lucky with lovely weather on my visits to these highland areas this year.

The big project this year is to get my garden redesigned and have had plans drawn up for a Japanese style revamp. A friend and I have cleared a great deal of the old plantings and bricks and stones and decking to get the work started.

Christmas Past

2010-01-20T09:11:00.000-08:00

The festive season passes pleasantly now that I'm retired.
Music teachers start celebrating Christmas in October and end up demented with concert rehearsals long before they stuff the turkey.
I have for the past few years taken myself off to the Isle of Skye to celebrate with Tim and the good neighbours of Ord, enjoying a sense of ease and simplicity away from the media frenzy.
The big freeze in December held me up slightly and I set off on Christmas Eve, driving towards Fort William through Glencoe, which was a fairytale wonderland.
I managed one or two photos of the permafrost trees and Buchaille Etive Mhor

and again on the road to Mallaig. The roads were clear and the drive was a joy, especially the new Fort William-Mallaig road which is all two-way.
As my destination is south Skye, its good to take the ferry and cut off the Cluny Damn to Skye bridge route which is the option better used in good weather.

The winter boat 'Loch Nevis' is waiting and I nervously reverse on, much to the delight of the crew, who with good humour encourage me to park between two white vans.

The road from the pier is only slightly pitted with snow, but its a different scene at the start of the single track road over to Ord.

I phone friends for reassurance and I'm met by Rob who escorts me the rest of the way and I collapse in front of his log fire while his wife Eileen places a whisky in front of me.

Tim arrives later to guide me down to the chalet,

which lies at the foot of a steep hill.

I relax and look forward to Christmas dinner with everyone tomorrow at the Ardvasar Hotel.

WINTER BARBEQUE

Boxing day follows with a village bonfire on the shore with soup and sausages washed down with mulled wine. And whisky. And beer.

PERFECT WEATHER

The weather is still and calm and very cold. It stays that way for the next two weeks, with one further fall of snow and conditions are very pleasant indeed.

CELEBRATIONS

There is a Hogmanay clebration at An Acarsaid to mark the 50th anniversary of the MacInnes family in residence there.

The house and gardens were created by Eileen MacInnes and her late husband in the 1960s and the garden is managed by Tim and open to the public under Scotland's Gardens scheme. Admission is free and a box for donations to Eileen's favourite charity 'Crossroads Care,' is placed in front of the house.

ENDINGS

Sadly, a week ago, Eileen MacInnes died after a fall, just short of her 98th birthday, so the picture of her at the 50th anniversary celebration with son Duncan and wife Polly, is particularly poignant.
The garden will be open this coming season and looks at its best in spring/early summer.

Ladies Who Lunch

2009-11-28T01:03:00.000-08:00

Eating out can be a mixed experience. As an oldie on a fixed income, it's important to get good value, on the other hand, as a foodie, it's of prime importance to get decent food. Otherwise, you might as well stay at home and cook.

When I meet up with friends locally, we always seem to end up at one particular establishment which never lets us down. Thats not to say we don't venture further afield, we just keep coming back. I call it a good performance. Entering the doors, the staff are instantly attentive and that continues throughout the meal. Are you sitting comfortably? Let me explain.

Trencherwoman at The Riverhouse.

A stone’s throw from Junction 10 off the M9, The Riverhouse is ideally placed for a day out in Stirling. The sun sparkles on the lake by the car park in front of the wooden chalet building.

We push through the heavy doors to the spacious reception/bar area and follow a pleasant young man who seats us at a table by the window. Swans and ducks potter among the lakeside reeds. A young Polish waitress hands us the menu and brings our drinks order.

As usual, the place is packed with nearby office workers, ladies like ourselves, couples and family parties. There is a steady hum of chatter and feel of relaxation, as the waiters and waitresses glide swiftly about their business, making sure all needs are taken care of.

The set lunch looks as delicious as ever and the starters include: warm goats’ cheese tartlet with rocket salad, curried parsnip soup and chicken roulade with carmelised onions. There is good spacing between tables.

The mains are as usual, very varied. Hungarian stew is on the menu, also sea-bass, salmon and a vegetarian couscous. I plump for the chicken stuffed with haggis and am not disappointed. A large dish of fresh vegetables is brought to the table.

Everything is beautifully cooked, presented and served and after this course we decide to by-pass the puddings, including raspberry crème brulee and finish with coffee instead.

As we reckon up the bill, the whole lot, with tip, comes to just over £10 per person. This place is such good value. Two courses for £6.95 at lunch and a pre theatre for £12.95, including a glass of wine. You can’t do better than that.

Barnacle Geese

2009-10-18T08:22:00.000-07:00

I was reminded of one of my favourite places recently and realised that I hadn’t visited it for about four years. Watching the programme Autumnwatch the other night, I listened with interest to the piece on the Barnacle geese who overwinter at Caerlaverock’s WWT reserve.

I have visited this reserve a couple of times and found the hides excellent and well placed, but the layout makes it seem quite confined and there is no feeling of real spaciousness and freedom and being close to the habitat. Of course, this is just my personal preference, as Caerlaverock is well set up with CCTV for viewing nests at various times of the year and is equipped with state of the art technology plus guided walks, etc.

My choice for viewing the Barnacle Goose in all its raucous splendour is the RSPB’s reserve at Mersehead. This wonderful open site is a mile or two along the road from Sandyhills, going towards New Abbey.
It is down a farm track towards the Solway and has parking and a lovely little visitors centre which has a coffee machine and honesty box, lots of information on visiting and resident birds/wildfowl and a warden.

You can watch through the large viewing windows of the centre, the birds and fowl on the salt marshes of Mersehead, or alternatively, walk towards the shore and get closer to the fields of Barnacle Geese and revel in the sheer number of their constant cackling, continually shifting population. It is amazing to think that the whole Svalbard breeding population of Barnacle Geese winter only on the Solway Firth.

Walking past the farm and the fields of geese, the walk turns to the left, along a winding path, heady with wild garlic in the spring. This leads to the viewing hides, which are good shelters during heavy rain.

Turning right instead, takes you through a wood leading to the shore. The sand dunes rise up before you hiding the Firth from view, but passing through the gate and over the dunes a sense of excitement takes hold at the sight of the vast expanse of sand and sky.
It is like a desert.
Low tide on the estuary lulls one into a false sense of security.

You can walk and walk at low tide, but do not turn your back, or it will surround you. The Solway swirls!

Walking along the shoreline takes you within sight of Sandyhills beach and then off to the right, is a path leading back through the marshes to the RSPB centre.

In summer on a good day, it is tempting to linger in a sand dune listening to the nostalgic notes of the Skylarks, singing out of sight, overhead.

In the October sunshine a new contingent arrives to join the flock of Barnacle Geese already in residence. The harsh screeches get louder as the ground birds rise up as if in greeting and the air is filled with a rich cacophony of strident discords. Behind me, the Solway rolls in like galloping horses.

JAPAN

2009-04-16T07:40:00.000-07:00

'He who learns to be contented is spiritually rich, while he who does not learn to be contented is spiritually poor, even if he is materially wealthy.'

PROFESSIONAL GARDENER'S GUILD STUDY TOUR

When a place became available on the PGG’s Study Tour of the Gardens in and around Kyoto, I didn’t hesitate to confirm. My little courtyard garden was in dire need of some inspiration and though not a professional gardener, I have always had a keen interest in design and layout, taking into account conditions and aspects. My knowledge of plants is generally very shaky, so I looked forward to improving this, as we had to identify a range of species used throughout these gardens and the key native flora.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS AND REVUE

As the coach drove us to Kyoto from Kansai airport, Osaka, I was immediately struck by the compacted industrialism and concrete buildings stretching as far as the eye could see, to the mountains in the north. The cities and their infrastructure merge into one another and there is no zoning, no suburbs, everything co-exists alongside the other.
This lack of space and tradition make the Japanese what they are, quiet, courteous, dignified and respectful. I immediately felt at ease and continued to throughout the trip. Despite the crowded areas at the shrines and temples, everything was well ordered and controlled and walking around the busy streets day or night, one always felt safe.
The crime rate is low, although scams and fraud are becoming more widespread, but the cleanliness of everything and the general behaviour of the population living so close to one another was a revelation.

As the days passed, with between three and four visits each day to different Temples and gardens, I realised that we had a really varied and interesting group of people in the party of twenty-two. The ages ranged from 20’s – 70’s and there were several trainees as well as older/retired gardeners with many years experience. It was a great mix.
We had the advantage of our group leader, John Humphris,
being very experienced and wise in the structure of the tour and along with Etsuko Sugai, our admirable guide, everything went without a hitch. Even when two teahouses were burnt down in gardens on the itinerary, a reshuffle was seamlessly put in place.
Having been with other groups on holidays and various activities, I feel this one bonded well and went a long way to making it a memorable tour and one which this lady will remember as significant and informative.
There are so many aspects that stand out, but it is the peace and tranquillity of the gardens and temples that I cherish, despite the crowds. The atmosphere of order and arrangement, not to mention control of everything in sight, was something I found very appealing to my rigid personality, as I like to have boundaries and control in order to feel comfortable with life. It was for me, a very calming and spiritual experience.
I think I have given a small summary of most of the following itinerary, but if I have missed something, I’m sure everyone else will fill in the gaps for themselves.
I see daily, in my mind’s eye, as our own blossom unfolds, the Japanese families picnicking under the trees in the parks and photographing themselves along the Philosopher’s Walk, under their revered cherries.

KYOTO CITY AND NIGHTLIFE

Our hotel was in the heart of the commercial district of the city, with a Starbucks at the front on a raised terrace, which was the first port of call for most of us at the end of each day, as we stepped off the coach. The staff was incredibly friendly and helpful, our group leader John, assured me it was the norm in all the hotels. Apart from in the hotels, English is not widely spoken, so we had to communicate with mime and gestures, which the Japanese were quite used to and responded with good humour and courtesy.
The street trees that line the main roads are extremely strange looking heavily pruned Ginko Biloba, naked when we arrived, but were starting to green up by the time we left. It was hard to imagine how they would look in leaf.
Japan’s electricity cables are suspended from concrete poles, in a wild tangle of wires and cables, so weighty that some poles are off the straight under the strain. The cables pass through the street trees and seem to have some protective binding, which made me wonder if they also give support. City tree varieties are Prunus jamasakura and the hybrid used near water, Prunus yedoensis. Shrubs I noticed included Spirea, its white spray everywhere, Euonymus and Camellia.
The Kamo gawa river flows through the centre of the city and has about thirty bridges across it as well as several sets of stepping stones. As the river was low at the time we visited, it was hard to imagine water gushing in between the stones, making it hazardous to cross.
We all did different things in the evenings, according to age differences and degrees of exhaustion. The younger group members favoured the English Bar nearby and progressed to karaoke as the days passed. We oldies sometimes ate [and drank!] in our rooms, as the prepared ready meals in Japan are of the highest quality, but Tim and I found
‘Donguri’ restaurant near the hotel and ate there several times, enjoying the theatrical style of cooking in a kitchen open to the public, with lots of shouting and chanting as they expertly went about the business of preparing and serving excellent authentic Japanese food. It made me realise what poor quality food we have back home. One just has to visit the food markets in Japan to see the produce, especially what they do to fish!

HISTORY AND DEVELOPMENT

The Japanese garden has evolved alongside its architecture, mountainous islands, deep valleys, rocky coastline and winding rivers. It reflects the landscape and seasons. The main island, Honshu, contains most of the major cities of Japan, with Tokyo on the central east coast and Osaka, Kyoto [old capital] and Nara, close to the southern sea coast, with a mild climate and seasons similar to Britain.
The climate in Kyoto is greatly affected by the surrounding mountains. Humid for most of the year, moss is the ground cover of choice and as beautiful as any well kept lawn. The mountains in the area are covered to their peaks in Cryptomeria japonica [Japanese cedar.] Giant Bamboo and Maple species are common and the hillsides have large numbers of the Japanese/Chinese Hill Cherry [Prunus jamasakura.] The unfolding Maples make a striking contrast beside them.
Kyoto has the greatest range of gardens in and around the city, than anywhere in Japan. To escape the grid like system of the city in the hot, humid summers, the nobility built large gardens on the outskirts, to represent the seasons and flowers.
In the 12th century, Zen Buddhism spread from China, and Saiho-ji [Temple of Western fragrance] is a perfect example of the transition from the Heian period which had large stroll gardens with boating lakes to a much more intimate stroll garden where the ponds are small, with three large and four small islands, the celebrated night mooring stones and single rock islands. It has a triple stepped dry waterfall. Kankaku-ji [The Golden Pavilion] and jGinkaku-i The Silver Pavilion] were modelled on this layout.

SPIRITUAL SEASONS

Our visit was to coincide with the blooming cherry blossom, which is a very special spiritual time for the Japanese. We were afraid that with the warmer February this year, the blossom would be out and over, but the cold snap just before we arrived held it in check and we saw it in all its varying beauty. This time is so important to the Japanese people, as the cherries were built close to the shrines and temples, so they have this religious association. The school year starts at cherry blossom time, so it is a happy time for everyone.

JAPANESE TOURISTS

The Japanese visit Kyoto in droves and all the hotels were full. They spread out plastic sheets under the trees and picnicked there with their families, sometimes twenty or thirty at a time. It was a wonderful sight to witness and gave everyone a great feeling of pleasure and peace. There is however, concern that the roots of the trees are becoming damaged as a result of all the traffic they experience at this time.

THE GARDENS

Every morning at 8.45am precisely, we were met in the foyer of the Karasuma Hotel by our excellent guide, Etsuko Sugai, one of the longest serving and experienced in Japan and she patiently and with quiet good humour, answered all our questions throughout the tour.

THE IMPERIAL PALACE

Situated in the centre of Kyoto, about a mile from our hotel, the entire palace complex is surrounded by a rectangular-shaped tsuiji, or earthen wall, that surrounds the 27 acre site. There are a total of five gates, with the southern Kenrei-mon gate as the main entrance to the palace grounds. Timber and cypress-bark roofing being the building materials of choice in ancient Japan, the entire city of Kyoto, and the Imperial Palace itself were destroyed by the 'Great Fire of Tenmei 8,' in 1788. The Palace was subsequently rebuilt, and once again destroyed by fire in 1854. The current incarnation of the palace was reconstructed in 1855.
The Heian-period technique of garden landscaping known as Go shintai was employed as a way of paying homage to the 'unique and extraordinary' that exists in nature. The massive grounds of the Kyoto Gyoen National Garden totally surround the Imperial Palace. Kyoto Imperial Park is one of the favourite gathering spots for cherry-blossom viewing.
As this was the first garden we visited, it was difficult to accept that we only had an hour to photograph and view, as the tour was tightly scheduled and we were hurried on by grim looking attendants. This procedure was quite normal in most of the Temple and Shrines, due to the number of visitors, so we made the best of the viewing time we had.

TOWN HOUSE OF THE SUGIMOTO FAMILY

This was a traditional house sighted in the middle of the city and the family had lived there for 150 years, trading from the front room in Kimonos, a garment now out of fashion and can be bought second-hand in the markets very cheaply. About 14 metres of silk was required to make a kimono and cost around a million yen.
The house was of timber and like so many Japanese houses, had to be rebuilt after a fire in 1868. Traditional houses are built to reflect the changing seasons and have sliding wooden partitions and lightweight doors that can be moved easily to make more space. The rooms are all measured as to how many Tatami mats it takes to cover the floor. A mat is 90cm x 180cm.
This form of measurement continues today as an estate agents description of a house or apartment is by the number of mats to the room, normally 4-5 mats. There was a large veranda overhanging the garden which was by no means large, but despite tall buildings surrounding it, was a calm, tranquil extension of the house itself. There were no modern appliances in the kitchen and it was hard to imagine how the house could be heated by the small charcoal braziers they used, but as it is so well preserved, it has now been granted Heritage status. I was glad to get out into the warm April air of the street, as it was very cold inside.

SANJUSANGEN_DO

This, the longest Temple in Japan [390ft x 54] houses the extraordinary sight of 1001 life size wooden statues carved out of Japanese cedar. The main statue is of Kannon Bodhisattva, centrally placed, with 500 images on each side. No-one is prepared for the sight of these gold plated statues stretching the length and breadth of the Temple. It is very powerful.
The garden is mainly a large area of gravel on a level site, dominated by the Temple. There are several small ponds with plantings of cherries and prunus nigra.

THE GOLDEN PAVILLION

Kinkakuji was constructed in the 1390s as a retirement villa for Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu and features a three-story pavilion covered in gold leaf with a roof topped by a bronze phoenix. Apparently, the retired shogun lived in shameless luxury while the rest of the nation suffered from famine, earthquakes, and plague. If you come here on a clear day, the Golden Pavilion shimmers against a blue sky, its reflection captured in the waters of a calm pond. However, this pavilion is not the original; in 1950, a disturbed student monk burned Kinkakuji to the ground (the story is told by author Mishima Yukio in his famous novel, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion). The temple was rebuilt in 1955 and in 1987 was recovered in gold leaf.
Kinkaku-ji is encompassed by an impressive Japanese strolling garden, while the beauty of the pavilion is reflected in a clear pond (Mirror Pond). The Buddhist creation story is said to be represented by the islands and stones on the pond, and the forest surrounding it makes it one of Japan’s most picturesque settings. Consequently, it became a prized subject and continues to provide inspiration for countless Japanese artists. In 1994, the pavilion became a World Cultural Heritage site.

KIYOMIZUe

Kiyomizudera ("Pure Water Temple") is one of the most celebrated temples of Japan. It was founded in 780 and remains associated with the Hosso sect, one of the oldest sects within Japanese Buddhism. In 1994, the temple was added to the list of UNESCO world heritage sites. It stands in the wooded hills of eastern Kyoto and offers visitors a nice view over the city from its famous wooden terrace. Below the terrace, you can taste the spring water, which gives the temple its name and which is said to have healing power.
Part of the fun of visiting Kiyomizu is the approach to the temple along the steep and busy lanes of the atmospheric Higashiyama district. Except early in the morning, do not expect a tranquil, spiritual atmosphere.
The many shops, restaurants and ryokan in the area have been catering to tourists and pilgrims for centuries. Products on sale range from local specialties such as Kiyomizu-yaki pottery, sweets and pickles, to the standard set of souvenirs.

HEIEN JINGKU

Heian Shrine was built relatively recently in 1895 on the occasion of the 1,100th anniversary of the Heian Capital foundation. It is dedicated to the first and last emperors that reigned from Kyoto, Emperor Kammu and Emperor Komei.
The four gardens which surround the main shrine buildings
on the south, west, middle, and east, have a total area of approximately 33,000 square meters. These stroll-style landscape gardens are designated as a national scenic spot.
The middle garden contains the Soryu-ike pond which features the Garyu-kyo, a walkway consisting of stone pillars which once served as foundation stones for the girders of Sanjo Ohashi and Gojo Ohashi, famous bridges in the center of the city of Kyoto. The pond is surrounded by an exquisite expanse of rabbit-ear irises.

NIJO CASTLE

This castle is on a really grand scale.
It has a gatehouse just inside the moat, then inside the courtyard another huge gatehouse with gold carvings and then the palace itself with an even grander front door. In the grounds is another castle, The Honmaru and to get to it you have to go over another moat,

built up by huge walls made of blocks of granite.
The garden has a large pond with three islands and features numerous carefully placed stones and topiary pine trees.
The pines in the garden are ferociously clipped and pruned.
The old growth is painstakingly stripped away, leaving only the new needles on show. It is the most obvious reason for keeping the trees from growing and spreading.
The Seiryū-en garden is the most recent part of the Nijō Castle. It was constructed in 1965 in the northern part of the complex, as a facility for the reception of official guests of the city of Kyoto and as a venue for cultural events. Seiryū-en has two tea houses and more than 1000 carefully arranged stones.

DAISEN IN

This is one of twenty sub-temples of the Daitoko-ji complex situated in the North west area of Kyoto and is one of the most celebrated gardens in Japan. It was constructed in 1509 on the grounds of the Zen temple, Daitokuji, and was completed with the main hall in 1513. The narrow garden surrounds the main hall on all four sides, encircled by a karesansui dry stream. The stream 'flows' clockwise from northeast to southwest. Many karesansui elements are in this garden including: a Mount Horai 'mountain', crane and turtle islands, stone bridges, and a dry waterfall.
The garden's layout is a clear metaphor for the human path through life. The small turtle swimming against the stream at once represents the classic symbol of good fortune and the futility of swimming against the flow of time. The south garden is the vast white gravel void at the end of life with two gravel cones the only barriers to reaching the lone Bodhi tree.

THE SILVER PAVILLION

The entrance to Ginkakuji is a wide gravelled walkway that quietly prepares you for the sight of flat topped conical sand, silvery in colour.
The sand pile is called Kogetsudai, translated, ‘moon viewing dais.’ To the right is a large raised area of the same white sand, the surface raked with a wave pattern depicting the sea. At night the reflection of the moon off the sand is like silver. Hence the name of the Pavillion. The rest of the garden climbs uphill into what would be called here a Woodland Garden and at the top are views over the city, as though from a mountain vantage point.

KYABUKI NO SATO [Thatched Roofed Village]

Miyama-cho, dotted with thatched-roof houses near the pure waters of the Yura River flowing through the green mountains, is famous throughout Japan as the quintessential ancestral hometown. In the northern part of the town are some fifty houses lining an area which measures 600 meters east and west by 300 meters north and south. About half of these houses have thatched roofs.
There is a higher residual ratio of these houses here than anywhere else in Japan. In December 1993, this area was designated by the national government as an Important Traditional Building Preservation District.
Our group were given a traditional meal, Japanese style cross-legged on the floor,
in one of the houses, after which we walked off our aches and pains being shown around the allotments in the area. The rice fields were being prepared for planting and other crops such as pumpkins, brassicas and large quantities of spring onions were all growing.
There is an Indigo museum which has been restored and run by the artist and curator, Hiroyuki Shindo. Polygonum tinctorium is the plant used to make the dye. He explained and showed us the process used and then let us view his works in the museum upstairs.

TENRYUGI GARDEN AND BAMBOO FOREST

As well as being the location of the famous Tenryu-ji temple complex and its associated very beautiful gardens, Sagano has a grove of interconnected bamboo. Once again the monks or other gardeners had dedicated themselves to pruning trees into miniature and tamed formations.
The garden is a beauty of moss, maples, courtyard stones, pebbles, lanterns, and colourful plants. It is also a lotus flower garden. The day we visited this garden was overcast, so as we walked up the road through the Bamboo forest, it would have been nice if the sun had come out to dapple the areas between the forty foot high trees and catch the light.
We walked through the park down to the river as the rain came on and people on boats in the river put up umbrellas and donned rain ponchos. Everyone in Japan, men also, use umbrellas at the first hint of rain. Some women even use them as sunshades at the first blink of sun.

SAIHO JI

The oldest important garden of the Muromachi Period was re-designed by a Zen Buddhist priest, Muso Soseki, who also designed the Tenryu-ji garden in Kyoto. It is a stroll garden, set in a dark forest and designed for meditation.
The garden was originally designed to represent the Western Paradise (or Pure Land) of Amida Buddhism. It was re-designed by Soseki when it passed to the Zen Buddhist sect The chief feature of the garden is the 'golden pond' with pavilions scattered on its shore and connected by a path which allows controlled views of the garden. The pond is shaped like the Japanese character for 'heart' or 'spirit'. It is divided by islands and connected by bridges.
The mosses which give the garden its alternative name (Koke-dere) were established, as an economy measure, after the Meiji restoration (1868). The moss has become popular and is best seen between May and June.

RYOAN JI

Ryoan-ji is the most famous and most austere Zen Buddhist garden. A rectangular space is bounded on two sides by a verandah and on the other two sides by walls. Within, the space is covered by raked quartz. Raking produces a pattern around 15 rocks in 5 groups in a significant mathematical relationship They are of 5, 2, 3, 2 and 3 rocks, which link the observer to an abstract conception of nature.

KATSURA IMPERIAL VILLA

Katsura Imperial Villa was built in the early Edo Period for Prince Toshhihito. The prince himself was the main designer, working with Kobori Enshu, a tea master, government official and garden designer. A lake (1.25 ha) was dug, hills and islands formed, beaches made, pavillions built and planting undertaken. The result was a pleasure landscape. There are 16 bridges. The lake could be used for boating parties and the surrounding land as a stroll garden, in effect a tea garden on an enormous scale. The 'Katsura Tree' (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) was associated with the God of the Moon and the garden has a platform to view its rising.
There are 23 stone lanterns to light the stroll path after dark. They were a recent introduction to Japanese gardens but have come to be thought of as typical, along with the stepping stones which reinforce the path and protect the plants. Stone basins were used for hand-washing before a tea ceremony. Katsura was designed not only for meditation (Zen) but also for ceremonious courtly pleasures. Its elegance, balance and harmonious restraint have charmed all visitors.

THE KYOTO BOTANIC GARDENS

The garden is located in the northern part of Kyoto city bounded on the northern side by the Kitayama mountain range. We got there early, by underground train

and were met by the very handsome curator, Mr Kaneko, who spent an hour or so focussing on Prunus species.
It was to be the busiest day of the year, with the cherry blossom at its best and families were seen spreading their plastic sheets under the trees
and picnicking for most of the day. I found it very moving to see how much joy there was to be had from this coveted tree.
Mr Kaneko talked of other plantings, but as the least knowledgeable person in the group, I was soon confused and dizzy with too much input, so wandered off and watched the Black Kites swooping down on people’s picnics.

SHOPPING!

I used one of the two ‘free’ days to explore the huge shopping area/indoor market

which stretched for miles on a grid system and yielded up top quality goodies which I stuffed into a bulging suitcase and brought back home. I have now done my Christmas shopping!

PGG Meeting: Edinburgh Botanics

2009-03-10T12:21:00.000-07:00

Heavy rain and sleet was forecast for the day of the PGG’s visit to Edinburgh Botanics, but as often happens in Scotland, it arrived a day later, allowing the group of around fifty members to enjoy the visit in chilly, but dry conditions.
As a guest of the Professional Gardener's Guild, I welcomed the opportunity to see behind the scenes at one of the world's finest botanic gardens.

We started the tour by visiting the propagating glass houses and welcomed the opportunity to examine and photograph developing species and hybrids. The Edinburgh Garden is the only one of RBGE's four Gardens to have display glasshouses and 'back-up' glasshouses for research, quarantine, and propagation.

Next on the agenda was the Alpine House with its wonderful collection of Draba, Dionysia and Androsace. Bulbs such as Cyclamen, Fritillaria and tulips also thrive, as do primulas, gentians and Chilean crocuses. These were all in full bloom, dazzling us with vibrant colour.

We moved on to the Queen Mother's Memorial Garden with each of its four corners split into different geographical areas of the world, with plants from Asia, Europe, North America and the southern hemisphere. At the heart each of these sectors is a circular seating area with a central specimen tree acting as a strong focal point.
A stone pavillion acts as another focal point and Caithness stone was used for the remaing hard landscaping areas.

At heart of the Memorial Garden is the labyrinth planted with bog myrtle (Myrica gale). This attractive plant is common in the Scottish highlands and is also highly ornamental: in spring its branches are decked in golden catkins, in autumn the leaves turn a lovely golden yellow. All the plants chosen were for ornamental purposes and with royal connotations and selected from commercial nurseries.
In the Woodland Garden, Rhododendron Cercidiphyllum and conifers, provide a backdrop for plants such as Trillium Grandiflorum and Meconopsis.

The Chinese Hillside is situated on the slope to the south of Inverleith House, with breathtaking views of Edinburgh Castle. It includes winding paths, a waterfall which tumbles into a pond at the bottom, and a T'ing or traditional small pavilion, which sits on the water's edge.

Before lunch we ended the morning itinerary with a visit to the Rock Garden. Plants you might expect to see flowering in spring time would include Crocus, Muscari, Pulsatilla (Pasque flowers), tulips, and Primula such as P. juliae, P. marginata and P. x pruhoiciana.

Lunch gave everyone a chance to catch up and gardening gossip was high on the agenda.
The afternoon was free to do whatever we wanted and most people started out with the Glass Houses.

The Temperate Palm House measures 15.24 m (50ft) to the top of the stonework, with each glass dome 3.35 m (11ft) giving a total height of 21.95 m (72ft). The original glasshouse range was refurbished in 1849, but by the 1960s these glasshouses were falling into a state of disrepair and were replaced.

The main house is 128 m (420 ft) long and 18.25 m (60 ft) wide. All the supporting structure is on the outside, so the internal area can be used to full effect. It covers two levels, with five climatic zones and ten glasshouses in all.

The Tropical Palm House is not only the oldest glasshouse in Edinburgh, but also boasts the Garden's oldest palm at its centre. The Sabal bermudana was moved from the previous Leith Walk site in 1822 and is still flourishing.

In the Montane Tropics House The RBGE holds the national collection of Vireya rhododendrons and has been collaborating and collecting specimens all over South East Asia; including Borneo, Malaysia, Indonesia and Northern Australia.

The main feature of the Wet Tropics House is a limestone cliff which provides the environment for members of the African violet family, the Gesneriaceae. Within the Gesneriaceae there are such horticulturally important plants as the goldfish plants (Columnea) and the lipstick vine (Aeschynanthus).

Around the edges of the house are the spectacular flowers of the ginger family (Zingiberaceae). Many of the plants in this family are sources of essential oils. Others, such as the roots of turmeric or the flowers of cardamom, provide important spices and medicines.

A very welcome cup of tea was provided at the end of the day before departure. Some had travelled as far afield as Cornwall and Cambridge and we all agreed that it had been a most interesting, enjoyable meeting.

A Wonderful Weekend Away

2009-02-24T12:13:00.000-08:00

As one gets older, one of life's joys is having a shared past, in this case with a group of eight lively ladies on a weekend reunion at one of Pitlochry's top hotels.
We are some of the 'Class of '67,' from the RSAMD, Glasgow's Music Conservatoire. 'Golden Girls' celebrating their 'Golden Years.'
What a delight it was!

Gathering for 'happy hour' in Shona's room, the memories flooded back and we felt so at ease with each other.

The Green Park did us proud. I've been treating myself to weekends there for years and can't fault it. It's like a well-oiled machine. Everything runs smoothly and all needs are taken care of. They even let us have our puddings in the lounge after we had been to see L'Elixir d'Amour at the Festival Theatre.
Everyone loved it. We ate delicious food, drank excellent wine, walked and shopped.

After a nostalgic sing-song with Peggy in charge at the piano, we departed after breakfast on Sunday.

Happy days!

Scene From My Window [and other photos]

2009-02-09T01:56:00.000-08:00

We have snow. Having escaped the worst of the weather, it has spread to the central area. The cars seem to be managing to get up the hill to the main road.
They don't grit our estate and we rely on the grit bin opposite my house. Its lid is generally left open, so the rain washes the salt off. Hmm.
T came down from the Highlands to visit this weekend, so he was worried that his bus back would be cancelled. [We plucky old pensioners like to make use of our free bus passes.] He set off at 8.00am and I haven't heard, so he must be half way up Loch Lomond side by now.
He likes to take in a concert or show, so we attended the RSNO's concert of Beethoven and Bartok on Saturday night, with a wonderful soloist, Zimmerman, in the Beethoven Violin Concerto. His tone was very special, true and sweet. He played a Bach Partita as an encore and you could have heard a pin drop. It was a great audience for a change, as this concert goer gets irritated by coughs, rustlings and stage whispers that can be heard by all. Because the programme contained two works only, of some length, the fidgeters stayed at home and left the hall to the discerners

SUNDAY STRAVAIGIN
It was a beautiful crisp day, with sun and stillness yesterday, so as T likes to explore somewhere new when he comes down, I suggested Culross, via the new Clackmannanshire bridge.
This proved to be a great choice, as it is interesting to see things through another's eyes. Although I've been many times to Culross,
there were things that I had missed,
such as the lovely terraced garden behind the Palace and the splendid little tearoom above the Pottery. The toasted cheese twists are to die for.

It was a day for taking photos, as there was a clear view over to Grangemouth, a place best viewed from afar, in my opinion!

The cobbled streets of Culross are beautifully maintained and it is a delight to wander the lovely winding lanes and ginnels, after the Palace garden visit.

I don't miss an opportunity to take photos, as it is very quiet today, with few people getting in the way of the viewfinder. Not something you find often.

At the other end of the village, up a steep hill, lies the ruins of Culross Abbey, looked after by Historic Scotland.

We had intended to return by the Kincardine bridge, but decided instead to let T experience the Hillfoots road and he took some stunning ice pictures at a waterfall in Alva country park.

By this time we were frozen and ravenous, so headed back chez moi, for hot baths and chicken tikka!

Where There's Brass...............

2009-02-06T13:19:00.000-08:00

Thankfully it didn't snow last night and the considerable covering the town had wakened up to, melted conveniently over the course of the day. Much to the relief of Callander's musicians who were giving a debut concert in the Kirk that evening.
It was below freezing as everyone gathered to perform and the air was icy with expectancy.
A new Brass Band had been formed in the town a year ago by a well-known local musician and this was its first concert. As a way of giving the brass players a much needed break in the programme, [wind instruments can't blow indefinitely] the small group of adult string players I play with, were asked to perform a couple of spots using music we had been working on.
The group were very excited at this opportunity to perform, as we also had been on the go for just over a year and hadn't yet played in public. Most of the players in our group haven't played their instruments for years and this has been a good chance for them to brush up their rusty skills and we have all had a jolly time socially as well.
The Kirk was full of friends and family, along with well-wishers and the Brass Band kicked off the programme with a selection of well known tunes to set the feet tapping, ending with a rousing version of 'When the Saints.'
After that, we had our first spot and everyone conquered their nerves and bowed away with great enthusiasm. We went down very well and played our selection of pieces from Handel to a Scottish March and Reel.
I feel we have great beginnings here, as the Brass Band showed excellent promise and our little group, Callander Strings, performed with style and confidence, a credit to Jean, our inspiring Musical Director.
Everyone enjoyed themselves and the audience were very complimentary. So nice to have positive input and a feel-good factor in these uncertain times. And the evenings are drawing out!

Weatherwise

2009-02-03T15:20:00.000-08:00

When you want to exclaim out loud about something, it's just your luck if there's no-one there. Flinging wide the curtains this morning I felt overexcited about the amount of snow there would be, so it was a real shock to see that yesterday's fall had mysteriously disappeared. Every last flake. You wonder what's going on in this country when they wind you up to expect serious snow and then nothing happens. What a fuss. I was so looking forward to it!
Of course, they have had it bad in certain areas, like London, where everything came to a standstill and people couldn't get into work because there were no buses and the schools were shut and people were skidding around in their cars and having shunts and bothering the rescue services and the hospitals were cancelling non-urgent ops because the public were falling apart with broken limbs. Why can't we deal sensibly with a reasonable fall of snow?
Today, it was decided in advance, to close schools in the areas due to be snow bound, but rising temperatures dictated no further fall, so a holiday for all. I'm sure the children enjoyed it as most of them haven't experienced a good fall of snow before.
I remember snow covered winters in the 1960's and '70's and still getting to work one way or the other, but if people now feel it's a 'health and safety risk' to even try, then it's just another example of the 'nanny state.'
It's official though, this country is the worst in Europe for a child to be brought up in. Parents are accused of being selfish and acquisitive and engendering it in their offspring. It is now a blame filled culture where no-one takes responsibility for their actions. Children aren't happy. It's worrying to think that if they see parents taking time off work for no good reason, maybe throwing a 'sickie,' it seems that they will emulate and find it normal to do the same. There are too many guidelines being introduced and not enough boundaries set. Why do the children in Russia seem calm and motivated? On the continent they're happy and interact with adults as well as their peers. Is that the secret? Are we so remote from our children that we need to introduce courses on child-rearing? Instinct and common sense are all that people need to embark upon a 'change of life.' It's a start.

January Blues

2009-01-28T14:26:00.000-08:00

Just when you think one lot has grown up and disappeared, another gang appears to take its place. I look onto a landscaped area, grassed with shrubs and trees at one end and a sign banning all ball games in the middle. In the fourteen years I've lived here no-one has succeeded in playing football, but it takes courage and cunning to convince them that it's a no-go area.
The neighbours rely on me to do what has to be done. After all, we are a child free cul-de-sac. We're all of a certain age and our kids are long gone, except for the new group running amok through the trees in front of the window. Why do I get so grumpy about this kind of thing?
What is it about this time of year that feels so much in limbo? All I want to do is stay in bed and drink tea, sleep and read. I stay up late and watch films then sleep late and have really bad dreams. I feel I'm in a slipstream.
My eating issues are not too bad at the moment, but I don't feel the weight shifting and would like to be a little less heavy to enjoy my fancy holiday, which will be upon me before I know it.
This lethargy, this staring into space is all such self indulgence, yet I seem powerless to motivate myself and although definitely low, mentally, I'm not really too concerned. Not enough to do anything about it. It will pass. Three days to go. It's January.

Raasay House Fire

2009-01-23T03:24:00.000-08:00

Time stands still on the island of Raasay, despite the extensive workings on the new ferry terminal in front of the burned out ruin of Raasay House. This is a huge blow to the community, as the newly refurbished building was due to be opened at Easter 2009 and courses had already been booked. It looks as though the influx of visitors to its shores is now on hold as the islanders struggle to come to terms with the fire that ripped its way through the house on the 17th of January.

It’s the second time the house has been burned down, the first was after the ’45 rebellion. The clan chief had gone off to fight with Prince Charlie, so the house was burnt, along with every other house on the island and all the animals were slaughtered. The people survived, but the land was decimated and Raasay suffered more than most with this form of ancient ethnic cleansing.

Boswell and Johnson came in 1773, when the son of that Clan Chief Macleod was in residence, but he sold out in the late 1700’s and then there were a series of wealthy landowners, some worse than others.

In between the wars, it was a hotel patronized by the rich, like the De Beers, but once the South of France became fashionable, it stopped and the building became very run down.

The island was then owned by the Department of Agriculture and the house was sold in the 1970’s for £5,000 to a speculative landowner from Sussex, who let the place fall into a ruin. It was derelict for a decade, then the government bought it back for £157,000. It was almost a shell by this time and no-one knew what to do with it until an SAS Major came along and started it up as an Outdoor Centre in 1984.

A huge amount of money has subsequently been poured in to Raasay House over the intervening years to keep it habitable and open to the groups that have enjoyed using it, but it was clear that a proper refurbishment was needed as the building was becoming unsafe.

Money needed for this course of action became available through various sources of funding and the building was then closed while the work commenced. At around the same time, work began on the new terminal, which meant that visitors would alight from the ferry in front of the Big House and be able to enjoy refreshments at the café or the nearby hotel, the island’s other hostelry. Now, everything has literally gone up in smoke and it’s hard to see where things go from here.

As a regular visitor I am strangely drawn to this island, not just the people, but the island itself, with its breathtaking views of Skye and the Applecross peninsula, pulling me in, reminding me all the time of its beauty and terrible sadness. It is Sorley MacLean’s island, written about in his passionate Gaelic poetry, his own English translation of ‘Hallaig’ seen on his memorial there. It is Calum MacLeod’s island and he dug a two mile stretch of road to his croft at the far North end. It took ten years for the government to recognize this achievement and a grant from the EEC to asphalt what is now known as 'Calum's Road.'

What will happen now? The community will do what it always has done and rise like the phoenix from the ashes that surround Raasay House.

Bah, Humbug?

2009-01-10T05:35:00.000-08:00

I wonder how many people are dreading their credit card bill. It’s taken me 63years to finally bypass the ‘festive season’ by going off to the Isle of Skye in mid December and staying for three weeks. Mind you, I did spend a fair amount, as I forgot the case of wine and had to replenish my stocks, but hey, that’s a small price to pay for escaping the media spending frenzy that sucks us in at this time.

I was looking after my lovely foster dogs for a week and no sooner had T left for his family Christmas down south, than I was struck down with a really bad cold accompanied by a rib-splitting cough and still had to walk the girls twice a day, moaning all the while. So, despite all the kind invitations from the good people of Ord, I remained supine and not nice to know.

My good friend S arrived for New Year, bringing cough remedies and hankies and kept her distance. We gave a party for the usual crowd and S cooked her famous seafood dish, to loud acclaim. Ord was very quiet on Hogmanay and S and I retired early.

On New Year’s day, we walked out to the ruined church at Tarskavaig and met up with R who was laden with cameras and lenses and off to photo the sunset over Rhum. It was quite the perfect day, frosty, still and as we got back to the cars in the twilight, we could see the new moon and Venus twinkling at us. R opened the hatchback of his car and produced the excellent Laphroaig and we all had a large dram. This was followed by some sauvignon blanc, naturally chilled and then R led the way home over the wee mad single track road to Ord.

The lack of light pollution on the islands leads to interesting star gazing and a tip is to look through your binoculars, it does make a difference. In the chalet, I could lie in bed at night and look out of my window at the myriad patterns and occasional shooting star. We also hoped for a glimpse of the aurora borealis, but alas, nothing materialised. The weather conditions were just right for all these phenomena and I have not enjoyed such good winter weather before on Skye.

The next evening I took my fiddle to the ceilidh in Tarskavaig village hall and sat in with the band. They were using music, so that was fine, but the lead fiddler did it all without and I wondered, not for the first time, if I will ever memorise anything and is it too late now?

Back home, I do not have my usual depression that precedes and follows Christmas and New Year, so I seem to have cracked it at last. I will do the same next year – if I’m spared!

November Sun

2008-11-29T08:48:00.000-08:00

Got back from a wonderful week with three friends in Mallorca. The flight times from Edinburgh were most agreeable and civilised and we were whisked off to the Son Antem resort by hired car which was not driven by me but directed by same from the back seat. Things look very different in the dark on the wrong side of the road.
Waking up to sunny weather and looking over beautiful park land stretching from the villa garden to the golf course beyond, does wonders for Scottish depressives. We felt ourselves opening up like flowers as we breakfasted on the patio in our fluffy white bath robes and slippers.
This is no ordinary resort, but a Golf Spa Vacation Resort catering for upmarket tastes and a love of the luxurious. No golfers we, but intrepid pamperers, as we spent a great deal of time in the Holistic Area, steaming and exfoliating in the many chambers and aromatic baths of sheer delight, finishing off with a dip in the Spa pool, which begins inside and proceeds outdoors to the sunbed area, surrounded by palm trees and succulents, topped off with a huge cascading fountain. It is bliss.
After a day or two of this, we decide to explore the island and head for Soller. All routes need a detour through Palma to select the correct road, but unlike Britain, they don't seem to be numbered, so we have to rely on signs and end up on the road to Andraitx.
Driving through this town, we spot a sign for Soller and end up on a twisting mountain road which challenges the driver and paralyses the back seat one. That uneasy feeling of the body being up a mountain but the stomach back in Palma, didn't leave until the day was over, but we did see a lot of the Mallorca we liked, but realised there was a lot to be avoided. As it caters for all tastes, one has to pick one's spot and we sure felt good about ours.
Son Antem scores on many levels and our little party had a very relaxing, enjoyable time in villa accommodation, where all fixtures and fittings are of the highest standard and the service every where was exemplary. It is worthwhile visiting the website.
It is good to have varied holidays of different levels of comfort and interest, but although I think I have a good balance of this, I must say I do find comfort is of the essence as I unravel at the end of each day................

Keeping Up Appearances

2008-06-17T01:37:00.000-07:00

Haven’t updated for quite sometime, so here is the latest news from the Central Belt.

Still enjoying this life of luxury and laziness, with extra cups of tea in bed on these dark winter mornings.Apart from the Art class on a Tuesday at Strathclyde and the Stirling Writers Group in the evening, life moves on through February with a visit to the wonderful Green Park Hotel in Pitlochry. Went to a show in the evening of Saturday at the theatre and bought nice bag from theatre shop. As if I didn’t have enough!

Suddenly it’s March and the Callander show is looming and we all have a good time in the pit doing ‘Annie Get Your Gun. I then get roped into a quiz night with the Denny Writers and we fail to make the next round.

Asked to play in a chamber music concert in October. Trying to get six people together to rehearse on the same day at the same time in the same place, is like trying to get a hot air balloon flight with Virgin.

In April, my dear friend Jackie phones to invite me to her 60^th party which she is having for her significant girl friends, so I settle down to write an appropriate ditty, outlining the years I’ve known her and decide to put in a photo of myself in bikini, taken 20 years ago. I can’t believe I ever looked like that. A couple of weeks later I do a really good gig at Paisley Abbey and bump into one of the ‘significants’ who is playing oboe d’amore.

I realise April has passed and May is romping ahead. I adjudicate at the Stirling Mod and am glad the class is small, as I run out of things to say and hope I haven’t offended anyone by my choice of winner.

The big event of May is Rob and Eileen’s wedding. This takes place at Eilean Donan Castle. Tim comes down the weekend before and helps me put in a new pond for the fish. We have a nice day out in Glasgow and hear Angela Hewitt play the first night of the 48 Preludes and Fugues. Stunning. I drive up with Tim to Skye on the Monday and try to settle in to his Spartan ways without grumbling too much. Thank goodness the weather is good, in fact wonderful and I have never seen Skye have it so good. The garden at An Acarsaid is looking brilliant too.

The day of the wedding is perfect and it is a real treat to visit Eilean Donan. We all have a fantastic time, with champagne in the courtyard and then off to Plockton, marching the bridal party down the main street to the village hall and our sumptuous supper and dance. The newly-weds are such generous hosts, who will be having an open house the following day, for all the friends who have travelled so far and we dance the night away till the wee sma’ ‘oors.

A few days later, I drive back down via the Mallaig ferry and arrive home to find the new pond has turned a sinsister green and all the shubunkins are dead. Quelle horreur! The water lily I added at the last minute has poisoned the water and the fish are covered in fungus. Must do better next time.

At the end of that week I set off down to Preston, to meet up with friends and join Louise Latham’s string orchestra course at Alston Hall. This is as good as ever and we all have a splendid time and meet up with the actor Bridgit Forsyth and her lovely brother, who are down for the weekend. She plays cello and he violin and he is also a talented artist. We have a great Saturday night in the bar and thoroughly enjoy all the Vaughan Williams pieces to mark his anniversary.

This takes us into June and the following week is the Denny Writer’s picnic. At my suggestion we visit the Falkirk Wheel, which turns out to be a good choice, as there are plenty of picnic tables, the weather is nice and three of us do the boat trip. The food and wine flow and the rain stays off, so it’s a good day out.

We manage to get together for a chamber music rehearsal at Martin’s house in Dunblane, where I find I’m seizing up over the Mozart Clarinet Quintet. Canny get ma fingers roon thae notes! When will people realise that Mozart needs to be played by professionals and not the likes of us.

I’m actually having to do a bit of practising now anyway, as the SFO had a concert in the Edinburgh Festival hall on the 14^th. I’malways amazed at the phenomenon which is the Scottish Fiddle Orchestra. It is always a sell-out and the audience are still dancing in the aisles long after we’ve blasted out ‘Caddum Woods’ for the umpteenth time.

I have a rehearsal the next day with the newly formed Dunblane Chamber Orchestra, which makes its first debut next Sunday. This means that I am now up to date with this blog and there will be more on that story later!

Cazz's Corner: Travelblog, or Notes on Norway!

2008-04-09T04:28:00.000-07:00

Cazz's Corner: Travelblog, or Notes on Norway!

Cazz's Corner: Norway Travelblog Photos

2008-04-09T04:22:00.000-07:00

Cazz's Corner: Norway Travelblog Photos

Skye New Year

2008-01-13T06:37:00.000-08:00

Holiday Hogmanay

Set off on coach from Stirling bound for Inverness and a night’s stay in the Royal Highland Hotel. Disappointed in some aspects of this establishment, as it is not as pristinely refurbished as the ads claim. Changed room, which was not a problem, due to thin party wall, but bigger room had broken heated towel rail and three light bulbs not working. TV reception was very poor and very limited satellite channels. Breakfast next morning was very average to poor and this trencherwoman couldn’t eat the sausages. Everyone knows I love a good banger.

Meet up with S outside Morrison’s next morning and we push the trolley for New Year.

Set off for Skye at midday and arrive at Ord late afternoon.

Jan’s chalet proves a hit and we settle in for longer than we expect!

Meet up with all the old crowd and have pow wow re Hogmanay.

As last year, we all start off at young Eileen’s with a jointly prepared supper, then on to old Eileen’s for the bells and ceilidh with music from S and me.

Again, I feel at one with myself and this part of the world and love to be involved in these friendly, but simple celebrations.

We throw a chalet party a few days later and have a fit at the amount of drink taken.

The weather so far has been lovely and calm, but a storm whips up and delays our departure by a day, so we set off then, only to run into snow at the Cluny Dam and this is the shape of things all the way, with a bit of a disaster at Strathmashie, causing the car to leave the road and hover over a ditch! Resourceful use of the car mats saves the day and the worse bit after that was the road to Dalwhinnie. Once on the A9 we breathe deeply!

Haste ye back?

Krakow Capers

2007-12-15T06:41:00.000-08:00

Time to look out the old padded jacket and get organised for a trip to Poland. It certainly helps to dispel the pre-Christmas blues to get away for a few days. Even though we are heading for Xmas Market land, the atmosphere of a predominantly Catholic Eastern European country, makes us feel more in tune with the season!

Our group of five is sub-divided into groups of two and three, which I sometimes play hooky from, as I like to people-watch and take ever so long to make any kind of purchase. So irritating to a group!

The group of two is intrepid. They have only been spotted in the evening, as their day is spent travelling round the hinterland of our destination, Krakow.

The rest of us are now fully paid-up members of the café culture. We pound the streets of this lovely chocolate- box Old Town, reminiscent of Bruges, but with the reminders of Stalinism all around the outskirts, such as Nowa Huta, one of only two severe socialist suburban builds in the world. This is more to my flavour, as I think back to my socialist upbringing, but find myself torn between the aesthetic and practical sides of life. I need visual beauty to flourish, not concrete dictatorship. However, Poland is trying hard to update its image and must be enjoying the EU input.

Enough, my two delightful companions, J&J, mother and daughter, are settling into holiday mode and we are all snapping like mad under our umbrellas, to make the most of the daylight hours of photography.

Our hotel is mid-range and spotlessly clean, very new and not far from the Main Square. We seek out interesting places to dine and find restaurants, cafes and bars of every description, making only one bad judgement on our first afternoon. We also frequent a tiny little bar called “Wodka” and squeeze in among the very nice young students and drink cheap [price, not quality] wonderful flavoured vodka. There is no question that Polish vodka is the best in the world!

M&S do the sights and we see little of them. They travelled by bus to Auschwitz and the Salt Mines, which were mined for centuries and brought wealth to Krakow. They also ventured further to Zakopane, a holiday ski resort two hours south of Krakow, where there was much snow.

Group Two explore the Old Town thoroughly and enjoy the street culture, particularly three brilliant accordion players from Lithuania whose wonderful CD’s were bought. We are all szloty’d out at the markets! Lots of very nice things and little “tat” among it. We find out lots of information on Polish life, particularly from J, an unbelievable 81, who talks to everyone and asks the sort of questions only someone of her years can get away with! What fun!

The weather, cold and rainy, doesn't deter us and we are rewarded with one glorious frozen, but sun-filled day, to retake some photos!

We all meet up in the evening for dinner, at different places each night and before we know it are heading back to the airport for a morning flight home.

Krakow is becoming more popular as a low budget destination, but sadly, looks as though it is heading the same way as Prague, in its “Stag and Hen” culture. We chose to go during the week to avoid the weekend revelry, so were not in any way disappointed and would recommend the destination to anyone. There is plenty to do and see and the people seem friendly, well-educated and work orientated. We would definitely go back.

Tai Chi at Higham

2007-11-28T06:19:00.000-08:00

Had a good journey down to Higham Hall last weekend. Enjoyed driving S’s Yaris, although due to the small engine specification, it doesn’t have the “oomph” for overtaking. The famous “flat-spot” feeling! Stopped at the turning for Bothel to photograph a group of Aero-generators, silhouetted against the sunset. Very dramatic.

Arrived at the Hall in time to have a drink before dinner and settled into our very large and comfortable rooms. Such gracious living, with high, gothic windows overlooking the courtyard gardens and parkland. Skiddaw Fell, hidden in clouds, to the west.

Our first session with Sheila is later that evening and we are a class of nine, including Gordon, the token male. He has been given the course as a present by his family. Another lady in the group has also had the Higham experience bestowed upon her, courtesy of her family.

Tai chi, chi gung is what we are here to try out and most have not done any. I suppose it is a bit like Morris Dancing. Everyone knows what it is, but doesn’t know anyone who’s actually done it!

We all breathe deeply and gather in our chi.

We have three sessions next day and I feel good and bad in varying degrees, owing to the previous night’s restless sleep. Although S and I are in adjoining rooms, I can hear her ferocious snoring and loud shrieking throughout the night. She assures me she had a really good sleep and suggests I’m making the whole thing up.

I’m trying to pace the three meals a day. I give in at lunchtime as it is a vegetable curry, then have to lie down during free time to face the evening dinner. S twitters on about being abstemious when she gets home, but I know this is a fib and that she is a night-time nibbler. She has eaten the entire dish of complimentary sweets in her room and is always grabbing handfuls of mints and crisps from the bar. She is incorrigible.

I awaken refreshed and loose-limbed next day and enjoy our final session. Sheila is an excellent instructor [pictured above in Rainbow Hands pose] and we have all benefited from the weekend. We resolve to keep up our practice and depart after a local dish of Cumberland sausage in red onion gravy, followed by Eve’s pudding. Mmmm!

Full marks, Higham Hall!

Scribbles from Skye

2007-11-15T18:55:00.001-08:00

Had a bit of a brainstorm on Friday there and impulsively phoned T, asking if he would like the pleasure of my company for the weekend. He seemed quite agreeable to this, so threw a few things in a bag and tore up the Fort William road via Callander, enroute for the 4.00pm Mallaig Ferry. Didn’t even stop to look out a CD when the signal left Radio4 and broke sweat overtaking four cars and three massive lorries in my bid to make that boat. I did wonder when I left Fort William on the Arisaig road, whether I would make it, as great roadworks are underway there and I got stuck behind an aggregate lorry on the worse bit.

With five minutes to spare, I screeched up to the terminal, to see the cars reversing on and one of the crew asking if I had a reservation. I looked blank and he laughed and said they’d had a cancellation and would I go to the office and purchase a ticket. I then had the humiliation of completely cocking up my reverse on to the boat. The ramp is about quarter of a mile long and they made me reverse between two white vans at the back, so I worked up a fair old lather with it all, I can tell you.

Started to rain as the ferry set off and just got worse all evening. Shortly after arriving at T’s, a group of us went out for a meal, then on to the Skye Historical Society, where a very interesting and well-prepared geologist gave a talk on rock formations. Is it something to do with advancing years, or is the brain more receptive to knowledge when unencumbered by daily toil, that I actually found the subject interesting? I can assure you dear reader, there was a time when I would not!

Rain persisted all next day and T and I stayed in and fell out over his computer, which I find most strangely set-up and he insists is fine. We agree to disagree and have a nice spagbol and T drinks more than his fair share of wine.

Next day he’s off down to Point, to get on with renovations to the house, so as I am cosy under the duvet, I remain with Meg, who is perfectly behaved and I wonder whether I dare ask if I can take her back with me…….

Next day is ferry day again and I have a wonderful drive down, as the weather is beautiful and the islands of Rhum and Eigg are spectacular in the golden morning light, the contours so brilliantly defined.

Ah well, back again for Hogmany!

Here is a ditty composed during the rainy spell in September.

Ord Ode

Going forward to Ord

on the single track road

in the mist and the cold

one is never too bold

to imagine the gold

in a sunset on top of the Gaskin

Fingers crossed in the hope

that we don't meet the dope

on the downward slope

with a trailer bespoke

and an urge to revoke

so we all end up crashed in the bracken!

My doggies and me,

Meg, Gruban, all three

are still full of glee

at the sights that we see

from the hill with the tree

to the chalets just west of Coral Island.

At the end of three weeks

still no sign of the peaks

but we know that they'll keep

till the end of a neap

or be back for next week

to welcome us back from the mainland!

October Over the Border

2007-11-15T18:16:00.000-08:00

Cranked up the engine and headed off for a String Orchestra weekend down in Cumbria.

Put both instruments in the car and played fiddle for most of the time, except for the last session where I hoisted up the viola onto an aching shoulder!

Directed once again by the capable Louise Latham, it consisted mainly of Baroque music with the curiously “un” Simple Symphony by Benjamin Britten, thrown in at the end.

Like Alston Hall, Cumbria’s Higham Hall is set in beautiful grounds and looks over to Skiddaw Fell. These two residential colleges run courses in adult education, covering just about every subject. The accommodation is in standard and ensuite bedrooms with the usual facilities and there is a well-stocked bar to compliment the excellent food in the dining room.

It is a pleasure to try out new skills in such a relaxed atmosphere and it is a safe and comfortable environment for the single person. There are no reserved tables at meal-times, which encourages everyone to mix.

There is a session after dinner on arrival, followed by three more the next day and ending with one on the Sunday. Departure takes place after lunch. I can recommend these short breaks to anyone who prefers a holiday with a purpose and an opportunity to meet new people. I shall be back again in November to do a short course in Tai Chi. Hopefully, a follow-up to the one presently being taken at Strathclyde University, but more on that story later!

Skye Scribbles

2007-10-10T19:21:00.000-07:00

The Rain in Skye Stays Mainly in the Eye!

Back recently from three rain-soaked weeks on the Isle of Skye.

S and I headed up in a completely overstuffed car with all our favourite food and drink, books and various other comforts to fortify us during our stay.

The purpose is to dog and garden-sit for T, who is off to Australia to celebrate his 60^th.

“The Girls,” Meg and Gruban are coiled up together behind the dog guard and sleep most of the way. We let them off for a run at Strathmashie Forest and we all do" the yellow trail."

Arriving at our destination early evening, we unload and settle in, finding the house needs a blast of heat from its only source, a multifuel stove.

I wrestle with paper, sticks and firelighters, swearing and shouting. It still goes out. S retires with a good book and a hot water bottle.

We soon settle into a routine and S is adopted by the dogs as chief walker and sleep in her room at night.

They are very well behaved quiet, bearded collies, apart from barking in tandem when wellies get pulled on, but we allow a little self-expression now and then.

T tends the garden next to his quarters [which is the gardener’s house where we are staying] and it belongs to and was started, in the 1960’s, by his elderly employer. It is open to the public.

Sleat is a beautiful area of Skye with lush vegetation and combined with a flourishing Gaelic culture, thanks to the college Sahbal Mhor at Ostaig, it is a vibrant place to be.

The days pass quickly, with the occasional lull between showers and as there is no sun, I don’t have to do too much greenhouse watering. The polytunnel is furnishing us with an endless supply of courgettes, two of which have turned into giant marrows, almost too heavy to lift.

We ask our neighbours if they would like to help themselves, but they all smile ruefully and point to their own well-stocked polytunnels. We are all carroted out!

Socially, this is the place to be and we are invited out to dinner and drinks as well as doing a little entertaining ourselves. I wonder, not for the first time, whether I could live here. I find, more and more, how much I need visual beauty and quiet pursuits. If it would just stop raining………..

We have a little celebration for S’s 60^th and take over “The Shed,” at Armadale pier. This is a tiny construction with seating for ten inside, so we squeeze in and crack open the bubbly! We have fresh crab and lots of wine, then back to base for coffee.

S is quite charmed and reluctantly departs next day on the early coach for Inverness, flashing her bus-pass at everyone.

I am now in charge.

The dogs love it, as they get occasional treats and I pour nice Bovril over their boring dried food, making it more palatable. Meg has a nervous stomach and needs a careful diet, so I must be vigilant. She is becoming quite animated and I discover that she is very talented at playing ball on the shore. I wonder if I can persuade T to unleash his inhibitions and have a go when he returns. I think not.

I slip and fall in the pouring rain and pitch dark, twisting my foot as I go. I wait to see if the pain subsides, before heaving myself to my feet and testing my walking. I don’t think anything is broken, but it is rather painful and I know from the feel of it that it will take a while to heal. I use a ski-pole next day, to help me walk the dogs. Ah well, a good excuse to put my feet up.

I have not experienced such a long spell of prolonged rain here and start to go off my little day-dream of moving to the islands. I wouldn't mind, but my foot is giving me severe pain today and I still have to walk the dogs and get soaked each time. I've also missed a poetry weekend in Callander and two concerts with my singing group. Not to mention the shubunkins. Can they survive three weeks?

Two days later, I put the dogs into kennels and head off down the road to pick up T from the airport.

The rain stops as soon as I get back home and I feel like I've drawn the short straw!

[ The garden and sunset photos, but not the others, at the top of the posting, are from last year, as not much was visible on this visit.]

High Jinks at Higham are on the cards for my next post!

Cazz's Corner: Light Music Memories

2007-08-29T07:30:00.000-07:00

Light Music Memories

2007-08-29T07:11:00.000-07:00

Just back from a wonderful weekend at Alston Hall, culminating in a concert to celebrate the 50^th Anniversary year of The Light Music Society.

To those of us who remember the Light Programme on BBC radio in the 1940’s and 50’s, the term Light Music covers an enormous range—the operas of Gilbert and Sullivan or Offenbach, the waltzes of Strauss, tuneful orchestral music by Eric Coates, Edward German, Leroy Anderson, Robert Farnon [this musician’s favourite] Ron Goodwin, Trevor Duncan and many others. From film music, shows, popular songs, tv themes—the list is endless.

This is music with melody—music with instant appeal!

In 1966, composer Ernest Tomlinson became chairman of the society and he and other members helped to keep light music “on the air.” Now well into his eighties, it was a delight to work with him and hear all his orchestra anecdotes! We were privileged to have him conduct one of his pieces at the concert and were fortunate to rehearse throughout the weekend with him.

The Library of all this light music is housed in a barn at Ernest’s home in Lancashire.

It contains thousands of orchestral sets and personal libraries of conductors of now defunct orchestras as well as from publishers and the BBC.

Ernest compered the Anniversary concert held in St Paul’s Church, Longridge and conducted one of his pieces, Lakeside Idyll, a romantic piece, which reminded me of Delius. It was written on his honeymoon and dedicated to his wife.

The orchestra was mainly conducted by John Wilson and led by Louise Latham, who directed our string rehearsals with superb competence. She is also pictured above outside the conservatory.

As part of the Scottish contingent, I must say we had a splendid time, meeting new people, playing new music often instantly recognised and having fun in the bar after rehearsals, before sitting down to an excellent Alston Hall dinner!

Retirement is certainly living up to expectations and turning up surprises! This lady certainly was when she recognised an old face/flame/friend/fling? Let’s just use that wonderful old-fashioned word that sums it all up—Paramour, yes, that’s the one. From the past. The very distant one. Of nearly 40 years. Well, I don’t know who was more surprised!

It just goes to show that despite all the new friends one meets in later life, there is nothing like having a shared past with someone and meeting up with them again at the right time, so that you have another old mate to go out to play with! Brilliant! Can’t wait to catch up.

Off to house and dog-sit on the Isle of Skye, so will compile some jottings from the Hebrides in due course.

Norway Travelblog Photos

2007-05-19T07:43:00.000-07:00

Hello! As Iam having difficulties placing my photos in the following travel news, I have decided to put them here, before you read the Blog, so you can try and match them up to some of the places visited!

Travelblog, or Notes on Norway!

2007-05-19T07:20:00.000-07:00

Welcome back to some interesting travel news this time, on a recent holiday celebrating some very significant birthdays! We all had a wonderful time with many memorable experiences, so I hope you enjoy my little daily journal of news and views that I kept throughout the trip.

“Hurtigruten Havers”

Day One

3.30am and R. is freaking out as we head for Edinburgh airport and can’t locate the long-stay car park. S and I are in the car behind and know where it is and take a left, but of course it isn’t right, in fact the directions are wrong and we have to phone to get someone to come and guide us to the correct destination! Then off we go to check-in and no hold- ups on flights.

At Amsterdam we walk for twenty minutes to get to our terminal and take off for Bergen.

Arrive 11.30am local time and spend the rest of the day sight-seeing the place no-one ever passes through, being the final port of call on all traditional shipping routes across the North Sea. Surrounded by seven mountains, railway lines from Vladivostok, St Petersburg, Stockholm and Oslo also terminate here, as do flights. Bergen is certainly no transitory town. Slightly tacky in places, we wander through the streets, not organised enough, or perhaps too tired to take in the Aquarium, Art Galleries and museums. We don’t even manage Troldhaugen, home of composer Grieg.

We find ourselves instead, after the fish market, in a delightful delicatessen, being waited on by a charming, helpful Norwegian girl, who serves us beautiful salads which we devour hungrily, as we have been awake for hours with no real food intake to speak of.

Refreshed, we catch the little green bus for the Hurtigruten Terminal and thus begin the Norwegian Coastal Voyage!

The ship is not as big as imagined, which comes as a great relief to this member of the group, who is definitely not the “cruisy” type. It is wonderfully finished with works of modern art and plenty of circulating spaces to move around in.

Our cabins are under the lifeboats, on open deck 6, with a restricted view and are compact and well designed with plenty of storage space. Interestingly, it has three berths and I wonder how I would cope with two more in what would then be a confined space. Thank goodness S and I chose to pay the supplement for separate cabins!

Buffet dinner that night is excellent and we have another to look forward to each day at lunch.

Day Two

Wake up after a good night’s sleep to snow capped mountains and faint tannoy announcement that we have arrived in Alesund. Lovely Art Nouveau style town with Mount Aksla in the middle. West, you see the the open Atlantic, with islands and their ancient settlements. East, the Alps of Summore, with sharp peaks rising out of the fjord.

Today, we sail up the famous Geiranger Fjord, a world heritage site and we are the first of the Coastal Express boats to enter this year. It is broodingly magnificent, with glaciers and cascading waterfalls. As this takes nine hours, R is in his element with various cameras, shooting happily while the rest of us gorge ourselves on the wonderful lunchtime buffet. Chef is certainly the most popular man on board.

We observe our fellow passengers at the next table, who cause a bit of head turning entering the dining room. A very tall lady, corseted into a Vivienne Westwood suit and wearing innumerable piercings, is accompanied by her enormously large male companion and two dear little old ladies. After this entertainment, we make our way on deck to continue the return journey down the Geiranger Fjord before the boat heads east for Molde.

On the top deck I find a warm enclosed spot near the engines, with good views and am the envy of the Germans who will no doubt have a towel spread over it when I return!

All good intentions fly in the wake of the ship as we manage to partake of our first excellent dinner on board, after which we disembark for a half-hour stroll around Molde, which for me, has a nice feel, being well laid out with wide pavements and interesting architecture, having been rebuilt in the 50’s after being destroyed by the war.

S and J then repair to the sauna which has great views all round and then scamper off with much girlish giggling, to one of the ship’s two Jacuzzi’s on top deck to sit under the stars and then to bed.

Day Three

Morning phone call from an ever excitable S, means I have to shower and dress pronto, as the rest are all ready to wander round Trondheim, where we are berthed ‘til 12.00 noon.

I gaze at my bloodshot eyes in the bathroom mirror and absently wonder if the air-conditioning is responsible, as it definitely isn’t alcohol. Prices in Norway are insane, due to state control, so we allow ourselves a “happy hour” each day of duty-free, drunk in our cabins. This is strictly rationed.

Joining my companions at breakfast, I discover that it takes 20 minutes to walk into the centre of Trondheim, so we all decide to stay on board and read.

Later, the ship negotiates a difficult passage as we pass Stocksund and has to manage a well marked course past skerries and lighthouses—in fact, the scenery today is quite different, as we cross open sea in wonderful calm, sunny weather. The sea is like a mill-pond and we are startled out of our doze by the ship’s siren, sounding a signal at the narrowest point of the sound, to warn others we are approaching. We round a group of rocks and prepare to sail under one of Norway’s stunning connecting bridges, which just accommodates the funnels!

I am constantly amazed by the narrow channels this ferry sails through and the skill of the route plotted by Captain Richard With and his pilots, founder of the Coastal Express route in the 19^th century, which has allowed supplies to reach the industrial and outlying northern reaches of this vast country.

The scenery on this stretch to Rorvik is mostly open sea, surrounded by skerries and mountainous rocky outposts and islands, reminiscent of the Hebrides on a grander scale.

During dinner, we watch another ferry in the Hurtigruten fleet pull up alongside in Rorvik port. Everyone rushes off during the brief interlude between its arrival and departure to view the main public areas and after a hasty inspection, this group anyhow, is glad to have made the correct choice!

Day Four

Wake up to announcement that we are crossing the Arctic Circle. Watch says 7.20am. Sleep for an hour then wake to hear that we are approaching another boat in the Hurtigruten fleet. Too late, I have to do ablutions first, and miss it.

The scenery has changed again and become grander, with snowy peaks and great archipelagos rising from the sea, which is rougher today, but smooth sailing as the boat is beautifully stabilised and we are riding with the waves and not against them.

We stop first briefly at Ornes, and then dock at Bodo, admin centre for Nordland County.

A foray into the town proves dull, as it is too large and industrial to be pretty, so back to the boat and onwards to Stamsund, in the teeth of a gale and open high seas, so as a precaution, I retire to my bunk and spend the rest of the three hour journey there, reading and dozing.

Things are calmer in dock at Stamsund and then we are off again to reach Svolvaer at 9.00pm.

We decide to jump ship for the short time the boat is docked and find ourselves in a tourist trap, in the form of an ice sculpture show, in a shed on the quay. We pay an enormous amount of money to admire the fine carvings of dolphins and fishing tableaux within. We are told that the ticket includes a drink, which is handed to us in a glass made of ice and naturally none of us are wearing gloves!

And so to bed.

Day Five

Very cold country now, with lots of snow around and an early start at 6.45am if you want to visit Harstadt. Needless to say, we are all warm and cosy in our respective bunks. Consulting the beautifully produced travel book, free to all passengers, I realise that the big event today is reaching Tromso, the capital of the north, at 2.30pm, so we are all shaped for that and head off down to the dining room for an early lunch.

Tromso turns out to be another industrial town, divided by the sea into two separate towns, but joined together by another incredible bridge. We head for the ski-lift on the other side of the bridge and take some aerial shots and fool around in the snow at the top, just before the weather closes in with some more showers.

Overnight, as we head up to the North Cape, the going gets rough, so we lie down and go with the sway.

Day Six

As we sail ever northwards, the sea becomes rougher and we look forward to a stop at Honningsvag, where there is a journey by coach to the Nordkapp. As it is very expensive, we leave it to the Americans, who do all the excursions.

The weather is on the change at this time of the year, but spring is very fleeting and even though almost into May, there is not a sign of anything green, just snow covered islands and leaden skies. Norway is so much bigger than anyone can imagine and to draw into these remote, silent looking places and find them a hive of industry and production is a revelation. The people seem very stoical and when asked how they cope with the dark winters and lack of colour, they just reply that “that is how it is”, and get on with life.

It is interesting to watch local people coming on board at various ports and enjoying the ship's facilities for a bit of social exchange and to add a touch of colour to their lives in the winter.

Sami people inhabit the area to the north of the Kola Peninsula in Russia, crossing Finnish and Swedish Lappland as far as northern Norway. The majority live and work like most Norwegians and only 10% keep reindeer for a living. The Sami language has the same standing as Norwegian and several municipalities in Finnmark have Sami names. A Sami parliament is elected by all Samis registered in Norway.

Day Seven

The ship is covered in snow and ice and it is minus two. We pile off the boat at Kirkenes and jump on the tour bus which takes us through the town and various snow covered villages to the Russian border, where we are all photographed with the lovely young Norwegian guard and his friendly, but heavily muzzled Alsatian dog. We all appear to have been born and brought up in our hats, scarves and heavy jackets and it is hard to identify who’s who in our photographs. We brave a snowstorm at the mines at Bjornevatn which are a monument to over 90 years of mining history and also contain the tunnel in which 2,500 people sought shelter for two months in 1944, before being liberated by the Russians.

Back on board, we find the dining room busy, as 200 more passengers have embarked in our absence, to do the southbound voyage and others have disembarked to fly back to Bergen having completed the northbound sail. We now are on the return leg of our journey, as Kirkenes is the last port of call for the Coastal Express. It is time to retrace our steps and visit the ports we missed while sleeping on the way up.

As we leave north Finnmark, the going gets quite rough on the open sea and we are glad we were in port as we ate our evening meal. We all seem to be quite good sailors and haven’t lost a meal yet. However, I decide against coffee and retire to my cabin where I find the movement of the boat is like a hammock rocking me to sleep for the next ten hours!

Day Eight

Much calmer and a better day as we head south for the first port of call at Hammerfest, which is a much busier, livelier town than those previously visited . An hour on shore and off we head to Oksfjord. Beyond that, on the way to Skjenvoy, we cross a stretch of open sea, Lopphavet.

The scenery today is snow-covered mountains which are most spectacular and more so when snow showers prevail from time to time. Things are definitely snowier than when we passed them northwards. It seems winter has returned and the locals assure us there is no sign as yet of global warming.

We have booked a trip to see the midnight concert in Tromso, so rather hesitantly join our fellow passengers on the tour bus for this private [Hurtigruten passengers only] recital.

We arrive at the famous Tromsdalen Church, the Arctic cathedral that symbolizes the dark period and the Northern lights. As die-hard musicians, we wonder if this is just another tourist trap. We couldn’t be more wrong and the hour-long concert is given by three handsome Norwegian men, Baritone/Guitarist, Pianist and Trumpet/Flugal player. It is wonderfully atmospheric, apart from our fellow passengers who take the opportunity to clear out congested lungs with uninhibited gusto. Ah well, it is a very tasteful tourist attraction and they are all three of them very gifted musicians.

And so to bed.

Day Nine

We have a very early start and have to be on the tour bus by 8.00am precisely! Our “Cruise Director” is a large, ebullient, extremely professional woman, who is not to be trifled with, as we discovered when we stood on her cables during her PowerPoint Presentation! We must be on time. This means we have had little respite from last night’s trip and off we begin, with a very nice tour of Harstad and then on to Trondenes Church, where a special little service is put on for our benefit and we are obliged to sing! Another trap! A short walk takes us to the Historical Centre dating from around 1250 with archaeological findings and remains of two fortification towers. Back on the bus and a lovely drive inland to a fjord with a short ferry crossing which does us proud with coffee and cakes on board. We get back on the bus again and follow the road the rest of the way to Sortland, where we rejoin our ship. As we pass over the bridge, we meet our ship sailing underneath and there is much honking and cheering and sounding of ship’s siren. What fun!

The scenery on our trip showed us the beautiful hinterland and interior of that particular part of Norway and we are glad to have experienced it.

The ship now moves towards the Lofoten islands through which we passed during the night on our way north. They really are spectacular and as everyone has the same idea, it is difficult to find a decent spot to take photographs. We have not been permitted access to the famous Troll Fjord, which is 2km long and only 100m wide at its mouth on the west side of Raftsundet. There is still too much ice and snow and it is closed to the larger ferries. A smaller vessel is headed toward the mouth, crammed with people on their way to see the sea eagles who nest there and I am jostled for position and miss a good photo opportunity. This is the point, at which I draw the line through “cruise”, and eliminate it from my vocabulary. I am becoming slightly irritated by my fellow passengers and am glad that we have such a harmonious little foursome.

A nice boardwalk around the attractive fishing port of Svolvaer, undisputed capital of Lofoten, cheers me somewhat and I am in good form during dinner, as we sail off towards Stamsund later in the evening. After more photo opportunities, we collapse into bed.

One more day on board.

Day Ten

Having slept like a hibernating bear, I breakfast at 9.00am and enjoy the scenery as we cross the Arctic Circle south-bound again and without the cold-water ceremony we participated in on the North-bound! J decides we should find the ship’s laundry to do our smalls, etc., so we manage to fill three bags and head for the car deck. Amazed to find it full of Americans and no machine available. One stops, and as no-one seems to want to empty it, we pull out its washing, smirking, as it has been through the cycle with a tissue.

The owner is the Vivienne Westwood corset and we get chatting. Laundry is a great leveller.

We spend the rest of the day relaxing and enjoying the very varied scenery on the way down to Rorvik, capital of a large island group called Vikna, consisting of 6,000 islands and skerries, populated by a myriad of birds.

At 9.30pm we set off for our disembarkation destination, Trondheim, arriving in port at 6.30am.

We will be sorry to leave this beautiful ship.

Day Eleven

As we chose to do the Norwegian Explorer and not the Classic Voyage, instead of returning to Bergen, we leave the comfortable confines of MS Midnatsol at10.00am and transfer to our hotel in Trondheim, which is an old spa-type building with sunken mosaic floor in dining room and a fountain in the middle. I take over at reception, as S has been laid low by a dubious prawn, and the priority is to get her a room as quickly as possible at this early hour. This is achieved with smooth alacrity by the smiling receptionist, and we are all allocated rooms there and then. The help and efficiency in this country is excellent.

While S spends her day in bed, the rest of us head off for Ringve Music Museum, which turns out to be a little gem and of great interest to us musicians, who take the tour and bombard the charming male guide with our eager questions.

Day Twelve

Next day, with S feeling significantly better, we head off for Trondheim Railway Station and board the extremely efficient network train for Oslo. Apparently they only change their timetables every six years, so everyone knows exactly where they are. What a difference from the British Rail Secret Service!

We pass the lovely scenic journey of seven hours, between the buffet car and our very spacious seating and arrive in Oslo, to be transferred to our luxury skyscraper hotel with panoramic views over the city.

We spend our remaining two days there, enjoying the feel of this lovely open, cosmopolitan place, with its harbour, shops and museums, and also relishing the comfort of the hotel, with its wonderful beds!

Apart from the prolonged wait in Bergen to begin this voyage, I would not hesitate to recommend it to anyone. We are well pleased!

Whew, What a Week! [Apologies to Mungo MacKay]

2007-03-28T18:41:00.000-07:00

I have become a "lady of the night". Does anyone else stay up till dawn, just generally messing about? Is this what happens to the single retired? The thing is, I enjoy my twilight existence and don't seem to need as much sleep as others. Frankly I could potter for Scotland, but it all bursts into life after 23.00 hours.

Something that has been keeping me up, is the latest cross-stich project, which is a very arty design of a Glasgow tram, all in sepia tones. Can you imagine? Ten wonderful different shades of brown? I have also miscounted quite badly and am now making it up and preferring the picture to the chart. Can someone tell me why I seem unable to count correctly, as it really gets me down and happens in each one I do?

Re: Spring and Showtime

Felt playing was very scratchy the other week , so resolved to take bow into Violin Shop for rehair and visit newly refurbished Art galleries at same time. Loved it all and felt great sense of familiarity in entering wonderful old building with new take on the inside. Only rather down market blip was the cafe near the front entrance. The first thing you see when you trip through the original revolving door. Rather out of place, I thought, as the first assault on one's finer senses shaped for culture and input, is to be made fully aware of school parties and squalling babes!
Comments appreciated.
Apart from that, it was great to wander and find that everything was still there as remembered from childhood, but now paintings were of more interest than the Elephant!

Teacher's Talk

Bumped into former pupil quite by chance in Violin Shop. Said he would have known me even if I hadn't given my name to the re-hairer. Remembered that I considered myself slim, fit and extremely trendy in the early 1980's , so perhaps that was a delusion and I was much like I am today, which is exactly the opposite..........

Anyway, the upshot of the meeting was that we met up the next day and caught up with ourselves and I learned of his exciting new career as a Luthier, having just graduated from the prestigious Newark College of String Instrument Repair. The violin that he made there gained an overall award and has been bought by the Benslow Trust and has had rave reviews in London.

This meeting has reminded me that I probably did something right from time to time, during my long stint as a string tutor. Nice to know that someone has changed career and branched out into something new. I hope we keep in touch, as he has encouraged me to go Scots Fiddling on the Isle of Skye's Gaelic College this summer! More on that story later!

Books and Poetry

Have not read so much lately, as other things have taken priority, but have enjoyed
Bound Feet and Western Dress/
Natasha Chang

This is a very readable account of a woman growing up in a middle-class chinese household at the turn of the century. This is told to us through the eyes of the woman herself, who did not have her feet bound, but written by her grandaughter, the author.

Once again, I have to rate Ian McEwan very highly as a gifted, imaginative writer, as I have just finished his short stories, First Love, Last Rites.
Some are very dark, but totally compelling. I am trying to read all his works as slowly as I can, as I just want to sit and read them till they're all finished!

Poetry Corner

One of my Bookgroup members is a poet, so I leave you today with her poem that won a prize at the recent St Andrews weekend.

THE BROADBAND CONNECTION THAT JACK BUILT

SALLY EVANS

(the story so far)

This is the StAnza slam that I won
by reciting....

These are the verses all forlorn
composed by the poet with a crumpled horn
who receives ...

This is the advice of a reschedule
as they havent yet sent their man up the pole
on the...

This is the starting date (that's even better)
given in the broadband welcome letter
brought by ...

This is the postman in the morn
who delivers ...

This is the parcel all tattered and torn
that contains ...

This is the router and plugs and cable
that lie in a clutter all over the table
sent by ...

This is the lady so friendly and kind
at the end of the menu to go on broadband
who answers ...

This is the number I have to phone
advised by

This is the man that goes up the pole
that carries ..

This is the dax
that gets in the way
of my dial-up.

(The strong word dax, quickly explained as a digital shared line, adds some zest to this poem.

Ladybirds

The photo at the top of the Blog, shows a Peiris bush in my garden, with a cluster of ladybirds all being very "matey". The picture was taken this time last year, but they've all returned for a repeat performance, so thought I would share it with you! Nothing like a good orgy..............

Cazz's Corner: Retired and Grumpy?

2007-02-11T04:56:00.000-08:00

Spring and Showtime March 2007

My very favourite time of year is already underway and will be over before we know it! My crocuses have already "croaked", so it won't be long before the daffs dwindle and the leaves begin to appear on the trees.
Such a time of hope and holidays, refreshment and refurbishment and so far away from my personal dreaded season, that of "to be jolly!"

Let's forget that one and look to all things mellow and musical. Speaking of which, have just finished a week of playing for a local operatic society's production of "The Merry Widow", which was great fun, more so as I didn't have to get up for work each morning, so could languish in bed a little longer with extra indulgences of cups of tea, etc.

Have also been to Harrogate with another outfit of stalwart players, to play to a packed conference centre. Such a civilised town, Harrogate, but not so the train journey! For the first time we did not travel First, so we all took it quite badly at having to go Second, but no wonder! It was like being on a refugee train, with everyone lying around with feet on the seats, luggage everywhere but the luggage racks and the interminable phones ringing and laptops and it got so bad, that I got out my phone and shrieked down it something I've heard so many times, and always wanted to do,"I'm on the train!"and that helped a bit.

Honestly, I use my bus pass at times and have a senior rail-card, but I would definitely hate to be parted from my car, which I need anyway, because I'm fairly rural, so will be carried away screaming,if that day ever arrives.

So, will someone please make travelling more civilised?

Cazz

Book Review : March 16th 2007

Have re-read The Bell Jar, by Silvia Plath and must say I found it more amusing than depressing and very well written. Recommended.

Anne Tyler is an American author whom I had not read, but tried The Amateur Marriage and enjoyed it, although I'm told it is not one of her best , so will try another. A good writer, she is also very prolific. Enjoyable.

Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont was an excellent read by the rather forgotten author who died in 1974, Elizabeth Taylor. She is now undergoing a welcome revival and although essentially English and slightly limited in content, she is a very good writer and the above would be the best to start with.

Happy Reading!

Poetry Corner...................

2006-11-21T07:34:00.000-08:00

As it is getting near to "that time" again, here is a little poem to ease you into the festive season, thoughfully...........

CAROL OF THE BIRDS
By
ANNE STEVENSON

Feet that could be clawed, but are not...
Arms that might have flown, but did not...
No one said "Let there be Angels!" but the birds.

Whose choirs fling alleluias over the seas
Herring gulls, black backs carolling raucously
While cormorants dry their wings on a rocky stable.

Plovers that stoop to sanctify the land
And scoop small, roundy mangers in the sand,

Swaddle a saviour each in a speckled shell.

A chaffinchy fife unreeling in the marsh
Accompanies the tune a solo thrush
Half sings, half talks in riffs of wordless words .

As hymns fly up from tiny muscled throats
Robins and hidden wrens whose shiny notes
Tinsel the precincts of the winter sun.

What loftier organ than these pipes of beech,
Pillars resounding with the jackdaws' speech
And poplars swayed with light like shaken bells?

Wings that could be hands but are not...
Cries that might be pleas yet cannot
Question or disinvent the stalker's gun,

Be your own hammerbeam angels of the air
Before in the maze of space, you disappear,
Stilled by our dazzling anthrocentric mills.

Cazz

Retired and Grumpy?

2006-11-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

Well, I must admit to enjoying a good moan about some of today's issues, but I'm no Victoria Meldrew when it comes to being retired!

I welcome you to a page of delights for the over fifties who are interested in the arts, music and environmental matters, in fact, everything that is of interest to those of us with the freedom to pursue them.

Yes, I am one of the fortunate beings who has had a year to adjust to waking in my own time, shopping when everyone is at work and taking breaks outwith school holidays.
Well, there you have it. A retired teacher full of ideas and "Joi de Vivre"!
I hope you feel this is a suitable introduction to my little corner and I propose to continue with a book revue, in the hope that perhaps someone will read and enjoy!

THE SPACE BETWEEN US
By
Thrity Umrigar

Set in contemporary Bombay, this tells the story of two women, Sera, a wealthy Parsi and her elderly maid, Bhima. Both suppressed by gender, but divided by class, the departure of their husbands gives similar emotional dimensions to the friendship between them. Sera even pays for Bhima's grandaughter Maya's education, so that she may escape the slum existence she shares with her grandmother.
Maya's unfortunate pregnancy results in despair and disappointment for both Bhima and Sera, with a fascinating insight into government hospitals, fancy dinner parties and a "balloonwalla",who provides Bhima with hope and appears as the only likeable male in the book.
Although an entertaining read, the novel is not an intellectual insight into Indian culture.

News of further decent "good reads" will be posted on this page as and when they are reviewed. Your comments are welcome and any titles you would like to share.

A real mind-blowing and well-written read, for anyone who hasn't done so, is:

"We Need To talk About Kevin", by Lionel Shriver.

Shortly before his sixteenth birthday, Kevin khatchadourian kills seven of his high school students, a cafeteria worker and a teacher. He is visited in prison by his mother, Eva, who narrates in a series of letters to her estranged husband, Franklin, her account of Kevin's upbringing.

I must say that I found this novel totally absorbing, but I was unaware that the author had no children and to subsequently discover that it had been written by someone who hadn't, made it doubly interesting, as I then considered that if she had, the book may not have had the twists that it does. Perhaps some mothers would find it an uncomfortable read. I for one, could not put it down and read it twice over.
The members of my book group were divided in their opinions of this novel, but all were affected by it. I feel that it would be interesting to read more of Lionel Shriver's work.

cazz