Half Term #2

Landfall in Arran
Landfall in Arran

This post has nothing to do with gardening as I am away.  When I get back I will have more to say on the horticultural front and other family issues.  This is simply my “what I did over the holidays” composition for when I get back to school.  In the meantime I agree with the thoughts on this other blog which gives some idea of why people grow their own veg..been there dug that.

I’m in Arran for half term with the essentials in life for a good stay: my black labrador (to give me company as I trek over the hills) and a set of golf clubs (to accompany me on my walks across one of the seven golf courses on the island).   Only Mrs B is lacking for the perfect scenario but she will join me at the end of the week:  one always needs something to look forward to.

Columnar basalt
Columnar basalt

The weather for days one and two was perfect: clear blue skies and little or no wind. So the emphasis was on outdoor activities.  We arrived at lunchtime on Sunday and went down to the beach at Blackwaterfoot. Ella was reticent at first, being spooked by wagtails amongst the rocks but, once she had paid her nervous respects to a dead seal, she was soon galloping across the sandy beach, chasing oystercatchers (into the water and over her head) and generally checking out all the olfactory diversions that the beach and headland offered.

Yesterday continued bright so we went to Lochranza in the north of the island to walk up the valley behind the distillery. I was planning to get up to Loch na Davie – reputedly the source of the purest water in Scotland – but having got about 2/3 of the way there, I decided it was time to head back and see what the distillery did with all that pure water.  On the way up it was still frozen so I could skip across many of the more boggy parts although Ella managed to find the deep end of an increasing number of squelchy areas on the way back down.

The afternoon was spent in splendid isolation on the golf course at Blackwaterfoot. Ella was sound asleep in the house and there was no one else on the course when I started. Bliss.

Not that it is all entirely easy-going. Today, the weather has turned vile: windy and wet and even the sheltered woodland walk we took was damp and still occasionally very blowy. But it gives me the excuse to stay in and write up my diary (this blog) and get other stuff done.

5th green at Shiskine
5th green at Shiskine

And speaking of writing, I woke up so cold on the first night I was tempted to write a letter to Mrs B along the lines of Robert Falcon Scott (what a middle name that was) “make the boy interested in natural history if you can; it is better than video games”.  But I survived that urge and managed to see some interesting fauna on my walks: a hen harrier that drifted over the car when we driving back from the beach and another pair as we rested near Loch na Davie. And as we neared the distillery on our way back, I turned to see a pair of Golden Eagles just taking flight above where we had walked. It is an image lodged in my mind and – uncoincidentally – embossed on every bottle of Arran whisky.  I had to buy a bottle just to sample what they do with that lovely pure water.

Dreaming of a Wet Christmas

DSC_0148So after the past six years spending Christmas at home doing our duty with in-laws and parents (s) we finally made the break and got away for the festive celebrations.  I have been hankering for a quiet Christmas without the usual stresses of combining disparate ends of the family in an event that reminds us why we only do it once a year.  So courtesy of my eldest brother Nick, we got away from it all in his holiday property on the Scottish Island of Arran.

121224 (10)Arran has been described as the best of Scotland in miniature: there are mountains and glens in the north and rolling lowland to the south.  There are seven golf courses on an island 10 miles by 20, and everything else you need for a decent Christmas: a brewery, a distillery and some decent shops for both gifts and more mundane essentials.  Claire’s main concerns about going to Arran revolved around whether we would even be able to get there as the chances of cancelled ferries loomed large in her mind in the weeks prior to the 8 1/2 hour journey up north.  My blind faith that it would all be fine on the night was severely tested as our four day stay was bookended by high winds and gales, prompting Calmac Ferries to run “disruption” banners across their website.  One cancellation simply meant a longer-than-planned-for shopping run at Asda in Ardrossan while we awaited the next crossing.

121226a (19)
If you go down to the woods today

Once there, a quick perusal of the local information service – The Arran Banner – told us that on Boxing day we should attend the “dook”: the local “let’s jump in the sea” equivalent of the Serpentine swimming club in London.  Unlike the Serpentine club this was not a race, just a relaxed, informal affair in which participants strolled (or ran) down the slipway at Lamlash before swimming to the end of the jetty, getting out and diving / jumping / falling into the icy waters below before returning to the slipway for a refreshing hot soup.  Fancy dress was optional, but prizes were awarded, so there were plenty of splashing santas to amuse the spectators as we sipped on our mulled wine.  All donations went to the RNLI so the risk of hypothermia seemed a fair one for the enthusiastic ‘dookers’.

121226a (24)Before we left Somerset for Scotland I had bumped into a former coaching colleague who now works in Scotland and was in the West country for Christmas.  He was incredulous that I was travelling up there for the festive period.  I can see his point:  the days are short (sunrise 9am and setting by 4pm) and the weather potentially vile.  But it proved to be the most peaceful and relaxing christmas in memory.  After all, what more do you want from Christmas other than to be able to eat, drink and slob out in front of the telly, with only the briefest blast of fresh air to revive you for the next instalment of festive gluttony?

121225 (35)
Stunning scenery and excellent golf (course)

Josh and I did, however, manage to get one round of golf at the local course.  Shiskine Golf and Tennis Club is a rarity in golfing terms as it is a 12 hole course.  Which is a perfect length for two hours of excellent golf.  It can never be described as a good walk spoiled as the course is on well-drained links with views across the Kilbrannan Sound to the Mull of Kintyre which are able to lift the soul after even the worst drive into the gorse and bracken.  The scores are secondary to the experience of playing on such a great course, though I did manage to keep my 20-year-old son in his place by about 7 shots….

DSC_0154
Greens and red cabbage – and home reared pork sausages

And in order to maintain some sort of gardening theme, I am pleased to say that we managed to cut some veg from the Arran garden for at least one meal.  Curly Kale is something I have not seen in a long time, but Nick (or rather his neighbour) has been maintaining some herbs, greens and red cabbages that are looking good.  And we also took our own brussels sprouts from our own garden – the few the mice had left us.

A truly peaceful christmas with close family, home cooking and room to breathe as you take walks along the beach with only the oystercatchers, cormorants and other gulls to keep you company.  And although not strictly speaking white, there was always snow visible on the highlands.

Almost perfect.

121224 (21)
Sunset over Mull of Kintyre