Sunday 29 September 2019

HELP! SPINNING HEAD CURE NEEDED



Three weeks of driving in Scotland + three weeks listening to the BBC while in the car + three weeks of a constant Brexit barrage = two spinning heads. The dangerous impact of the Irish hard border issue, strong Scottish resistance to leaving the EU, the effects of a No Deal Brexit, the legality of a perogued Parliament, the possibility of a second referendum, reports of potential food and drug shortages, all with the EU clock ticking. My head is aching.

The impeachment of President Trump......finally!  This should be a foregone conclusion, I naively first thought. Hah! Republican information spins despite the stark evidence at hand, the constant flood of Trump’s vitriolic distractions and his barrage of nonsensical tweets have my head spinning. Will the American public hear the facts over White House and Republican noise? I worry. This isn’t just the U.S. we are talking about; this is our future world stability at stake. My head is aching.

And our own Canadian election. Personal attacks, in both speech and advertisements, instead of policy discussion plus massive misinformation on line. When there is platform discussion, who are we believe? Perhaps I wouldn’t be as sensitive to this had our Premier, Mr. Ford not promised one thing during the campaign and then enacted the exact opposite after he won majority power. Who is telling the truth? My head aches from spinning.

Emotions everywhere are running high. I am exhausted from railing at personal attacks and actually yelling at the radio and TV. After some calming self talk this morning, I think I have found the cure for my spinning head. Ignore the confusing chaos. Seek out and trust the facts. 



Saturday 21 September 2019

OFF THE BEATEN TOURIST PATH

So sorry about your weather!
Hope the sun comes out soon.
Too bad it’s so misty.
So ran the comments on my Hebridean Facebook postings. How do I begin to express that the weather Jim and I experienced was part of our adventure, part of the lure of these remote isles and something for which we were and went totally prepared? If we had been looking for a sunny, palm-treed locale, we would never have journeyed to the Outer Hebrides.

Images of the wild skies of ever-changing weather patterns sweeping in off the North Atlantic, fleeting light patterns reflected on the tweedy coloured moors and rocky mountain ranges, varying coastline views of endless white beaches and dramatic jagged rocky cliffs under constant siege from roiling angry seas enchanted us both. The power of the Hebridean elements is surprisingly seductive.




The beauty, unique character and fascinating history of the Outer Hebrideans who survive and thrive added to the pure magic of the isles. Neolithic sites, remnants of the Clearances, the discovery of the Lewis Chessmen, blackhouses, the click-clatter of looms creating beautiful Harris Tweed patterns, crofting, fishing, the cutting and burning of peat as fuel, the annual guga hunt, the never forgotten Iolaire tragedy, a relatively new gin distillation industry, and the flourishing Gaelic language kept us enthralled and wanting more.




Nowhere in our travels have we experienced warmer, more helpful welcomes or such a solid sense of caring community. Driving the narrow, single lane roads often blocked with “sheep jams” 😂 proved at times challenging, but the ever-present wave to say thank you at passing places always made us smile. A police officer,  diverting traffic because of an accident, recognized that we were visitors and thoughtfully took the time to show us on our map a shortcut route to our destination, saving us a lengthy loop back through Stornoway. The manager of the Gearrannan Blackhouses, when she heard that Jim and I were headed for the Butt of Lewis, took us aside and kindly warned us of the slippery grass at the cliff’s edge. The rock won’t give way, she warned, but the grass is slippery and you could slip over the edge in an instant. Needless to say, we heeded her advice. Such examples of thoughtfulness and caring were evident everywhere visited.

In an environment where most people know each other, Where are you from? was a constant question. Canada always elicited huge smiles and genuine interest. Despite their remote location, the majority of islanders we met were extremely well informed on national and world affairs.

We both confess that after the isolation and great sense of peace we enjoyed on Lewis and Harris, Jim and I found our return to a Scottish mainland of crowds, traffic, tourists, tourist busses and souvenir shop upon souvenir shop far more difficult than we had imagined. Culture shock perhaps. For the final few days of our trip, we merely went through the motions; missing the uniqueness of the isles’ experience, it was time to go home.

The Outer Hebrides, Life On The Edge, we discovered, can be quick to ensnare the heart. Jim appropriately uses the word magic. We will forever hold in our hearts the wild land, sea and sky, the vibrant history of which we knew so little before and most is all, the warmth of a unique, unforgettable and very special people.




Our lesson! It pays to get off that beaten tourist path.

Thursday 12 September 2019

HOW MUCH DO YOU TAKE BEFORE YOU SAY ENOUGH?

Sitting with a glass of wine, enjoying the warmth of our blackhouse cast iron fireplace and listening to the wind howl outside, my thoughts are tied up with events past and present which have impacted these precious Outer Hebrides and also Scotland. That’s my problem when I learn just enough of local history, it makes me too sensitive.

As with Ireland, Scotland and the Outer Hebrides suffered “The Clearances” at the hands of the English. Repugnantly, English land owners viewing high and mountainous pastures as more profitable if under sheep rather than people, evicted their tenants, condemning them to a life of extreme poverty or forced emigration to Australia or the Americas. 

In the amazing little Uig museum, I was moved by the following writing. I was born in Uig and I was upon two occasions deprived of my possessions.....we were deprived of the hill pasture which was given to the neighbouring tack and then our stock was taken from us. We were obliged to subsist as best we could on the crofts. Subsequently we were summoned out of our parish altogether and deprived of everything we possessed - cattle, sheep and everything else. The people asked the Chamberlain at the time what he was then going to do when there were no homes, and he pointed to the sea, and told us our home was there.

A witness to the Clearances wrote, .......were hounded away to Australia and America and I think I can hear the cry of the children to this day.




In World War I, of more than 6,500 men from Lewis, an Isle with a total population of less than 30,000 at that time, 1,151 were killed in action. Lewis’ list of dead in action was one of the highest proportions of any UK community. Tragically, it gets worse.  

On December 31, 1918, English War Office bureaucrats crowded 264 returning WWI Hebridean survivors onto a seconded pleasure yacht, the Iolaire, with rated capacity for 100 including crew, with lifesaving capacity for only 100, and with an understaffed crew commanded by a inebriated English captain. Imagine the excitement of these WWI vets to be returning home alive to the Outer Hebrides in time for New Year’s Day. At 2:00am in stormy weather, the Iolaire ran aground on infamous rocks, The Beasts of Holm, in the mouth of Stornoway Harbour. 201 men drowned in what remains Britain’s biggest peacetime disaster at sea since the loss of the Titanic. The loss devastated the Isle of Lewis and scarred a generation. The irony was that half the ratings on the Iolaire were local fisherman and could have told the captain or the helmsman, if asked, that they were on a dangerous incorrect course.




And now my undisciplined mind brings me to today. In a resoundingly high referendum turnout, Scotland voted 62% to remain in the European Union. The Scottish government has continued to air ads telling Europeans that they are open for business. Multiple businesses and the fishing industry have published pro-EU articles. Speak to a local and the majority wish to stay. Here we go again......a nation’s desires will likely be overrriden by English policy.

I know! I know! I am too simplistic and emotional in my thoughts. I’m siding with a nation I have learned over the years to respect and love. Sorry, but I just can’t stop asking, How much do you take before you say ‘enough’?

Wednesday 11 September 2019

IF YOU DON’T LIKE SCOTTISH WEATHER.....

....wait thirty minutes and it is likely to change. If you thought Canadian weather was changeable, you truly need to visit the Outer Hebrides to experience weather that totally dominates life.....every day.....24/7.

WIND! Meteorologists will tell you that wind is the key feature of the Outer Hebrides’ climate. No kidding! At the very northern tip of the island chain, the Butt of Lewis, there is a gale on average every one in six days. Whether it is like a soft Caribbean trade wind or a bulling wind in its restless ferocity (Andrew Smith), the wind quite simply never stops blowing here. Peter Mays describes a Hebridean wind that blows sometimes with such force that it can blow waterfalls back up the mountain. Have to admit that we haven’t experienced that yet. 😲

Rather than being an irritant, I find myself drawn to Mother Nature’s might. To sit in front of an aromatic peat fire, scotch or wine in hand, listening to the swirling gusts howl outside is magical. To stand in awe as this Hebridean wind whips the North Atlantic’s water into massive foamy surges who meet their crashing end on the west coast cliffs, to watch what are usually rhythmic waves morph into raging violent haphazard mountains of water which crash into each other offshore, to feel the salty wind assault your face and to scream to be heard over the thunderous roar of giant waves pounding ashore, is to be totally exhilarated.



RAIN! Put on your rain gear and just go is a philosophy that Jim and I adopted on our first trip to Scotland. Given Scotland’s annual rainfall, one could waste a whole trip sitting inside waiting for fair weather. Some of our most enjoyable days have been rainy ones. Did I mention that the Outer Hebrides are wetter than the mainland?

SKIES!  So breathtakingly dramatic that Jim and I freely admit to never having experienced anything like them.....anywhere! Given the strong winds, Hebridean skies are ever changing. One minute the horizon is filled with roiling black clouds menacingly advancing like an enemy army. The resultant torrential rains then give way to typical Scottish drizzle which when it abates leaves behind rather bleak skies and landscape. Just wait a moment, though, and the dull sky will be broken by a single spotlight beam of sunshine and will, on many occasions, treat you to a jaw-dropping rainbow.




Jim and I have discovered  an Outer Hebrides rich in history and experiences, populated by welcoming, intelligent, charming residents and overflowing with magnificent vistas. What we didn’t count on was that the weather would be one of the experiences we enjoyed the most.

As John Rushkin wrote, There really is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.




Saturday 7 September 2019

THE REAL TWEEDY DEAL

Harris Tweed means a tweed which has been handwoven by the islanders at their homes in the Outer Hebrides, finished in the islands of Harris, Lewis.......and made from pure virgin wool dyed and spun in the Outer Hebrides. The Harris Tweed Act, 1993

Travelling back in time to the 18th and 19th centuries, we might easily have wondered what strange clicking monster lurked behind the walls of the local garages, homes, tin huts and sheds of the Outer Hebrides. Finding the courage to investigate further, we would have discovered a tradition which has been carried on for centuries - on hand operated looms, the weaving of wool from sheep native to the Outer Hebridean islands.




Little did those early weavers, who created their wool primarily for domestic use and who bartered any surpluses for rent or goods,  even begin to imagine that their artistic meticulous designs would jet set  them onto the international stage of fashion in Paris and Milan during the 1960’s and remain in great demand even today in Europe and now in Japan and Korea.




So great became the demand for legitimate Harris Tweed at that time that production levels reached an unbelievable 8 million yards a year. Astounding when one realizes that their home weaving practice never evolved into the largely mechanized system of the mainland; all Harris Tweed remained hand woven. As imitation began to rear its ugly head, the need to protect the tweed’s authenticity increased exponentially with its success. Thus in 1993, the British Parliament passed The Harris Tweed Act, officially defining what constitutes Harris Tweed and dictating that only true Harris Tweed may carry the Orb Trademark.




In my mind, Harris Tweed was made into men’s jackets. Little did I understand the sheer number of products created with this famous fabric. Until today that is! I have seen toys, lamps, earphones, and even running shoes, to name just a few. Wow!




So here’s the thing. If you feel the need of tweed, real Harris Tweed to be exact, the products are endless. Just be sure to look for that Orb Trademark. If it’s the real tweedy deal, it will bear the trademark. Remember, Harris Tweed is unique to the Isles and that is official! Happy shopping.




Wednesday 4 September 2019

RIDICULOUSLY COO-TE

If they weren’t so large, I would bring one home. Teddy bear-huggable with their shaggy hairstyles, giant eyes peaking out from behind lengthy bangs, curvy horns and docile friendly nature, the Highland Cow aka Heilan Coo aka Bo Ghaidhealch (Scottish Gaelic) is an intrinsic part of Scottish culture and globally recognizable as such.




Be it the thistle, bagpipe, wee dram or kilt and tartan, I am sure everyone has their favourite symbol of Scotland. For me it will always be the Heilan Coo. It was love at first sight.

I still remember, during a stay on the Isle of Mull, when Jim and I stopped at fenced-off acreage to take photos of a herd of Highland Cattle. As one of these fearsome (?) horned cattle rushed towards us at the edge of the fence, in a comedy of errors, Jim and I literally tripped over each other attempting to save our lives and reach our car. It wasn’t until later that we learned Heilan Coo are gentle, highly intelligent and mild tempered. Upon hearing the supposed near-death tale, our Mull hosts, after they stopped laughing, explained that these adorable giants frequently approach people demanding their attention, especially if the cattle have experienced previous interactions with adoring tourists. Highland Cows are renowned for their friendly nature. Who knew? 




In fact, the only time they pose a danger is if a protective mother perceives a threat to her calves.




Oh and speaking of those adorable calves. I want one for home. What pet coo-uld be more perfect? Just look at this little face:




But don’t let the Heilan Coo’s adorable features fool you. They are the oldest registered breed of cattle in the world and are uniquely adapted to survive Scotland’s often harsh environment. Their thick woolly undercoats keep them toasty warm. Those charming long eyelashes and thick fringe protect their eyes from stinging hail, wind-driven rains and insects.




 Heightened senses and super vision help them see from behind what appears to be a blinding set of bangs. Horns are used to rake snow away to get at food; the Heilan Coo actually thrives on the poor grazing ground of Scotland.




I need to stop here! I know! You’ve had enough. I could go on ad nauseum about Queen Victoria’s soft spot for the breed, the many colours of Highland Cattle, the difference between male and female horns......you get the picture.

Just one more thing.......if you hear of a passenger arrested for attempting to smuggle a Heilan Coo calf on board an Air Canada flight, I’m sure you will figure out who that Canadian might be.