Stuck in a Holding Pattern

There is a certain zone that you enter when you have been traveling in airports for more than 24 hours. It suddenly doesn't matter where you are actually going, you have to stop thinking about it, you are stuck in a brain holding pattern, like a plane waiting to land. It is a very strange place to be....all this waiting, punctuated by short busts of stress. Like when you go through customs, or when they tell you they don't know where your bag is, or when they pull you OFF the plane so that a flight crew can get to Calgary instead of you...
Total travel time for getting here from door to door? 56 hours in transit....

Heart's land

I think I have landed in the most beautiful place on earth (as Nick says, it is just down the road from Paradise).
I am in Aberdeenshire, staying with Peter's parents (Nick and Mandy). I visited the Glenfidich distillery today and got the grand tour (including the tasting of the whisky). It was amazing how many of the stages of the process (and there are many) smell exactly like miso!! Afterwards I took a lovely walk up Millstone hill and down again, which is behind the house. Amazing views (I could even see the skyscrapers in Aberdeen). I ate wild blueberries all along the way (which totally makes up for missing the blueberry season back home completely). We collected mushrooms the during our walk as well. I saw a red squirrel (they are very red and very small) and a vole decided to race us home for a short while on the path (but then decided that it was too much effort and dropped out of the race).
The entire area behind the house is forest, which is very magical. I plan to spend more time in the forest tomorrow (my last day in Scotland). It feels very peaceful and relaxing here, a fabulous end to my trip. I will be back here soon...

Adimistrivia

It has been brought to my attention by several people that no one can post comments on my blog, hence the no responses. So, I have endeavored to change that (at this late stage in the game), but we shall see whether it works or not.
Also, I have lost the computer connection to my camera on a bus, so there will be no more pictures until I get home. At which point I will upload and update posts so far!!
On a different note, I will be home on Thursday night (August 28th) around 9 pm. However, I will be unavailable until the 4th of September (I am sure some of you know why!!). Please do not be offended if you do to hear from me until then :) Be assured, I will be having a most fabulous and wonderful time!

Jaunts around Lewis

We actually left the croft on Wednesday for the first time since we got here (I think Dave and Jane were shocked that we stepped off the croft). We took a bus to Stornoway, and from there another bus over to the west side of the island. The views from the bus of the mountains were amazing.

Most of our day was spent at the main Callanish stone circle. The area around Callanish is covered with stone circles and individual standing stones, but most of them have been completely or partially covered over by peat. The main site, however, is clear.

It is beautiful up at the Callanish stones, which are up on a hill over-looking the ocean and the mountains. It is quite a large circle (the second largest in the UK, after Stonehenge), with over 53 stones spanning 400 feet, and has been there for over 5000 years. Within the central circle, next to the central stone, there is a depression, within which people had been buried for centuries. I spread some of mom's ashes here.

We entered the stones with ceremony and attempted to be reverent and to open ourselves to the experience. It was hard, however, with all the other people there. Tourists!!!!!! We left just as a bus load of tourists arrived. Good timing!

Our next stop (by bus) was the Arnol Blackhouse. Blackhouses were the traditional building here in the Hebrides (especially amoung the crofters), and many people lived in them well into the last century. They were made out of stone and earth, with a straw and sod roof that was replaced on a regular basis. People, animals, and all their food (hay) lived within the same building. The Arnol blackhouse has been preserved as it was left when the last resident moved out.

It was much much bigger than I imagined it would be simply from viewing the outside of the building. It has 6 separate rooms, all of them quite large (this includes the living room, bed room, barn, and feed storage rooms). The peat fire (which is kept constantly burning at Arnol) is put simply on the floor in the middle of the living room, and there is no chimney (hence the word blackhouse). The smoke must find it's way out on it's own.

The house itself felt very cozy and inviting (not something I would think of a stone house). There was a good energy about the whole place. I love the smell of peat burning, and I spent a long time sitting by the fire. The smell seems so familiar and the smoke is not at all irritating. The picture shows just how thick the peat smoke is within the main room. It reminds me, in some way, of the smell of my dad forge from when I was a kid (I guess peat is on it's way to becoming coal).

...feedback...

If you are one of the few (many?) who are reading my blog, I would like to encourage you to post comments (or advice). This helps me feel like it is a worth-while exercise to write a post because I will know that someone out there is reading it and enjoying living vicariously through me. You only have two more weeks to make comments, because after that I will be home!!
I also always like to know who is reading my blog (don't we all)!!
(Chris MacLeod is exempt from this request due to the fact that he is already complying)

Shearing the Sheep

First off, let me state for the record that sheep are stupid. I mean, really really stupid. They have two states of existence; dull acceptance and blind panic. Both can be used to your advantage.
Our endeavor to relieve five sheep of their coats started off by clearing out a space next to the barn of anything that might spook them, and cause them to run the other way. This included a blue kids table and a bunch of lawn chairs (apparently they don't believe in lounging). We needed to get them from the lower field into this enclosure, without one of them bolting away from us. If one bolts, they all do. We needed to make them bolt into a very small enclosure we had made out of gates within this larger enclosure by the barn. This is where the taking of coats would begin.
First we went looking for them. They are easy to spot (in short grass), as they are large and all various shades of dirty white, which stands out quite well against green grass. At first they were wary of these four sinister looking tall things approaching them. We formed a line behind them and just started to walk up the field.
Blind Panic!!
We managed to get them through the first field, through the small opening in the fence (and close that off, in-case of boltage), and into the larger enclosure. At this point we hit a snag. One kept going around the back of the barn, which of course meant they all followed. We chased them in circles a couple of times, which was quite entertaining. Watching sheep blindly attempt to jump over a clump of nettles and not really make it...I leave it to your imagination.
Finally we had them all in the small enclosure. At this point Caelie and I just watched, having no experience with shearing or handling sheep.
It is an interesting process. You start at the chest and work your way down, and then go around to the other side. When you are done you have a fleece that is all one piece (well, unless you pull it all apart). The sheep barley struggle at all once you have them. They just sit (on their bums with their front feet hanging dejectedly) and let themselves be relieved of their coats.
At one point, one of the sheep was on it's side (having it's side fleece removed) and it saw a piece of grass within it's reach. So, of course, it had to sample that tasty morsel. Here I am, watching a sheep be sheared, and the sheep decides it will have a little lunch while it gets a haircut.
All five sheep got the extensive hair-cut as well as a manicure/pedicure (to keep their feet healthy in the wet weather). They also got a dose of insect repellent on their necks to keep them safe from a type of fly that burrows into their skin and lays it's eggs, which kill the sheep when they hatch. When they are fully sheared the look like they are made out of foam. It is the strangest thing, the fleece left on them looks exactly like white stiff foam (ya know, the stuff you can carve and make props out of).
When we let them out of the enclosure they all ran to the bottom of the top field and hid in the tall grass till we left. All you could see was their little ears.
We all went home smelling very sheepy!!

Living with animals...

On Saturday it rained ALL day. We started off by working in the market garden, but were soaked through in minutes. So, we spent the day doing in-door animal things.
First we cleaned out the goat house. This involved scrapping and scrubbing the milking stand clean (I won't say till it shined, because that is never going to happen), and cleaning out all the straw, bags, and dirt. The goats were very curious as to what we were doing. A good morning's entertainment was had by all. The baby goats tried their hardest to eat anything the came into range (which included; our hair, jackets, straw, rope, broom handles, a tray full of food, plastic bags, and numerous other things they got their mouths on over the course of a few hours). Gust (mamma goat #2) was very curious as well, and spent most of the time with her head over the stall watching us. Cinnamon (goat mamma numero uno) wanted to know who gave us permission to do all this? Where were our papers? Why had we not shown her any documentation? She spent most of the time pushed up against her trough, where she could see both of us and protect her back at the same time...(she has since come around, having discovered that I give REALLY good scratches behind the horns).
For the afternoon we got to play with sheep sheadings. We took sheared fleeces and picked out the really good bits (after we had figured out which end was which, and believe me, it is not easy to determine). Then we took all the wool and put it into the bathtub. You wash it by filling the bathtub with warm water and then gently pressing down on the wool. We felt like cats kneading at a bathtub full of wet wool. Then you rinse with cold water, and rinse again. This process takes quite a long time, as water dose not really go through wool very well (hence the waterproffness of sheep). Your hands get very very soft however, due to all that lanolin. Then we take all the fleeces and hang them inside the poly-tunnel to dry. They are still there, not quite dry yet. I have pictures, it looks very funny.

The Croft

We have arrived on Lewis (on Wednesday really, but who is counting). We are staying at a farm called Ravenstar, which is just north of Stornoway (in a town called Back).
It is a beautiful traditional croft, surrounded by other crofts, right on the ocean. There are lots of fabulous animals here. I shall list them all for you (for posterity)

• 2 mamma goats; Cinnamon and Gust
• 5 baby goats; Barney, Benjamin, Boris (who are all off to the butchers on Monday, poor things), Borage, and Basil.
• 2 mama pigs; Henrieta and Penelope
• 4 baby pigs (who are nameless as they are destined for the dinner plate).
• 3 cows; Star (the skittish girl), Ginger (the big boy), and Chocolate (who is a baby and really is the colour of chocolate) .
• 3 ducks, (who are nameless for no reason, perhaps because they don't actually earn their keep here as they lay no eggs).
• Far to many chickens to count (though there is a broodie hen of interest who is sitting on a clutch of eggs at the moment).
• A herd of shorn sheep who are out in pasture, so we never see them.
• 3 sheep who refuse to be sheared, who are also destined for the dinner plate.
• 1 cat; named Shiva, who, despite protestations to the contrary, is not allowed in the house.

We feed and water all the animals every morning and evening (which takes far less time than one would assume). We both attempted to milk the goats, but neither of us have the skill nor practice to be effective at it and the goats were not appreciative of the attention. There is a market garden further down the croft that we have spent a day tilling in the paths (which was good hard work). Today it has rained all day, so we spent the time in the polytunnel (greenhouse to us Canadian folks), weeding, planting, etc. If it rains tomorrow we will probably get to wash out sheep fleece, something I would like to learn how to do.

It is funny, when we were on Skye and told people we were going to the Isle of Lewis everyone looked at us and intimated that it was so isolated here, that nothing happens on Sundays, and there wasn't really much to see or do (except the beautiful beaches, which apparently have great surf). Well...so far I have seen street lamps, stop lights, and more than one gas station; none of which I saw while on Skye. Yes it is true that nothing happens here on Sundays (church and all), but so far I have not seen a single-lane road anywhere. I am sure they are out there somewhere, but I have yet to encounter one. On Skye anything other than the main road from Kyleakin-Portree-Dunvegan all seemed to be single-lane roads. It is quite miraculous really that no-one drives off cliffs or into ditches. Stornoway, that main town in the outer Hebrides, is much much bigger than Portree, the main town on Skye. We have yet to venture down there, but we will eventually. We also plan to visit Callanish (a enormous circle of standing stones) and Arnol, which has a traditional blackhouse (peat fire included).

The old man

Today we took a jaunt around the Trotternish Penisula. You can buy day-pass bus tickets on all routes and just hope on and off the bus all day. They will let you off and pick you up anywhere along the route, you just have to wave them down.
Our first stop was Old Man of Storr, which is a wonderful rock formation. The walk up is beautiful. Most of it takes you through a pine forest, that is all dark with shafts of sunlight peaking in and small busy little streams running through it all. Although the forest has obviously been planted by humans, with it's neat little rows of trees, it seems full of magic. Both Caelie and I felt like we could turn around at any minute and there would be giggles and the sound of fluttering wings. Eventually you come out into the moor and the views of the ocean are amazing (I took lots, don't worry). I walked almost up to the top, which is a steep incline once you leave the forest. We had a bus to catch, so I didn't go up to the old man himself. I sat down on a rock to take it all in and, of course, I hear a 'Baaahhh' issue from behind me. Sheep will go anywhere!!
We then descended (which was much easier and took much less time) and hopped on the bus again. We took it all the way around the peninsula to Uig (oo-ig). Not much there. We had lunch (really good fish and chips, of course) and wandered around. We will be seeing it again on Wednesday when we sail off for Lewis. Then we took the long bus ride back to the hostel.
On a side note; apparently Scotland does not appreciate my singing talent. I have had someone refer to my voice as screeching (and that it is not a dying animal just in case anyone was wondering) and today someone honked their horn at me and told me to shut up. They don't know what they are missing....

Where we are right now...

We have found ourselves, unexpectedly, at the most amazing hostel. It sits in the middle of nowhere on the north-eastern coast of Trotternish Peninsula on Skye (see link to side). The views are stunning, the public spaces are cozy, and the fellow guests are fantastic.
The first night we were here, while we were finishing dinner, there came a distinctive sound issuing from outside. I wandered out to investigate, only to find a man playing the bagpipes to the sea. Frans hails from Holland and has been playing the pipes for the last 15 years (started too late in his life to play well, or so he insisted to me). He is here, in Scotland, this summer to take his level four exams. I watched him for awhile, an enormous smile on my face, and before too long he gestured me over to try it out for myself. I could barley get any noise out of it. You must need prodigious lungs to play the thing. Frans plays every evening, and there have been requests for him to play us out of sleep each morn (and he insisted that I blog him; this one's for you Frans).
There is a terribly out of tune piano here that I have been playing with regularity, despite the sound. We spent all day sitting around reading books in the quiet hostel. We had it almost entirely to ourselves for the day, as everyone else went out sightseeing. Tomorrow we are going to be doing the Flodigarry circuit, and taking in the Old Man of Storr and the Fairy Glen, with a stop at Uig (where Caelie is going to try and find some much needed fluff books). We leave for the Outer Hebrides on Wednesday, where we will have regular access to internet.
Unfortunately, due to strange air flight circumstances that no-one is able to explain, there will most likely be no pictures of my trip until we get to Inverness (two weeks from now). My battery recharger (along with all my other rechargers) has apparently died while in transit. I attempted to buy a charger in Portree, but they did not have the model I needed. I am certain I will not be able to find one on Lewis. So you must all wait with baited breath...
I will post more tomorrow about our adventures so far...but now I must make way for someone else to ply the internet.
On a side note; HAPPY BIRTHDAY Chris!!

...I have fallen deeply and madly in love...I just want to wander off into the moor and disapear forever...

stop-over: Glasgow

Everyone smokes here!!
...ok, ok, that is a broad generalization.
I guess I am just used to being in a place where smoking in public is either illegal or seriously socially frowned upon. It is strange to see designated smoking areas in airports, and so many people smoking and walking down the street.
On a lighter (haha) note; bus drivers give change here. What a revelation. I think we should institute this back home. What is this 'exact change' shit, I mean really!!
The flight was too long. I would also like to see someone do something about this. I think we should have those planes in The Fifth Element, where they put you into boxes that make you go to sleep. That would be nice. Instead of this whole sitting in the isle seat next to someone you don't know (and therefore can not lean you head on their shoulder to sleep), so that your neck muscles hurt from trying to keep your head attached to your body during those few fleeting moments that you manage to be asleep over the 11 hours you are on the plane (stupid Calgary stop over).
Of course, we get here and it is an absolute hot sunny day. I am wandering around in shorts and a tank top. We are staying in this impossibly small hotel room. I think it is cute. Especially the REALLY RED hallway outside.
Tomorrow we are off to Skye. We are staying on an organic farm in the Waternish pennisula. Up early in the morning; train, bus, ferry, combination of them, who knows. I am feeling very free and open about it all. We'll get there, it will happen the way it is meant to happen (thanks Peter). I only feel slightly here, because all the differences so far are small and subtle (accents, smoking, computer keyboards). I think once I am out of the city it will change (all big cities are the same in many ways).
I really want to have a profound 'struck from on-high' expereince when I step onto Skye. Something exciting will happen....that is for sure.

Before the dawn

Well, here I am.
10:00 pm the night before I leave and I have managed to put one thing in my pack. My rain jacket...cause it rains a lot where I'm going.
I can not seem to get beyond that. I have spent the last few days intensely distracted in a way that will make this trip so much more magical. Though it has done nothing for the process of getting everything in that bag on my kitchen floor (well, perhaps there was a shoe consultation involved).
I still don't really believe that I an going (finally), but I feel like I have already left. I spent the last week at Firemaker, and it was a transformational and healing place for me. It always is, once I get there. This years gathering and the experiences I had there, are the perfect start to my journey. I am in a fabulous head space to do this trip. I have learned a lot of lessons from seeing the example of others this week. I feel blessed as I fall asleep in my bed for the last time in awhile....
Lets just hope I manage to put everything else into that pack before I leave!