Following the footsteps of Ebbe

On the last day of my brief northern adventure, Rachel and I walked from Coldingham village down to Coldingham Bay. On the way, we strolled round the ruins of Coldingham Priory - which, luckily for us, was holding a special open day for some visiting archaeologists and schoolchildren, so we were able to go inside the restored church.

Coldingham Bay is popular with surfers, and there were a few brave souls bobbing around out there in the crashing waves, though we didn’t notice any of them actually standing on their boards and doing the full Old Spice routine. I’m not a water baby. And especially not a freezing cold turbulent water baby. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like to be out there in the North Sea under such conditions. I suppose it must be quite exhilarating, in a muscular, masculine sort of a way, but it’s not something which appeals to me one little tiny bit.

Scaled some steep steps and followed the cliff path round to St Abbs – where another hardy species can be found: the diver. Apparently the water is incredibly clear a long way out, and there are underwater rock formations to swim through and scary-looking Arctic wolf-fish to view. Well, I wish them joy of it – I think I can safely predict that I will never be seen in a wet suit and flippers.

Drank a coffee of almost Cafe Royal proportions in a harbour-side cafe and made our way back across the sands to Coldingham.

And then it was time to head back into Berwick-upon-Tweed and the long journey home to the Muddy Island. Which took six hours.

Rock cakes

On the second day of my brief Scottish holiday, Rachel, her husband and I drove north-west from Coldingham, through Dunbar, past Tantallon Castle (closed that day) and on to North Berwick.

Dominated on its landward side by Berwick Law, and from the sea by the Bass Rock, North Berwick struck me as a highly desirable place to live. It has streets of very attractive colour-washed terraced houses with contrasting coloured window- and door-frames. It is closely proximate both to Edinburgh and to vast stretches of rolling countryside (I loved the burgundy-coloured soil of the ploughed fields, basking in the crisp golden light of another sunny autumn day). It boasts some excellent shops and eating places. Most of all, it lays claim to a particularly fabulous chunk of coastline.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off the Bass Rock. It has an astonishing pull – like a magnet. The seabirds clearly feel it too. I think perhaps it’s the fact that this spectacularly inhospitable lump of volcano, jutting from a notoriously choppy bit of sea, has actually been inhabited by humankind for much of its (comparatively) recent history. From St Baldred in the 8th century, to the wretched prisoners held there in the State Prison built there in the 17th century (the appalling barbarity of which is described here), to the keepers stationed on the lighthouse, built in 1902.

The day of my visit, the light shining on the rock (white, courtesy of the 140,000 gannets residing there for ten months a year) was quite mesmerising.

Between coastal walks, we lunched at the Bella Italia – an authentic 1970s-style Italian restaurant, with decor to marvel at (though probably best not to try to replicate at home) and an excellent pasta menu.

Having subsequently expended a modicum of energy clambering over rocks and trudging across expanses of flat golden sand, we nipped into Tea at Tiffanys for a restorative cup of tea. Not long opened, this is a gem of a tea-room, with gorgeous magenta walls, sparkling chandeliers and friendly personal service from the owner (we ordered tea for three and two big pots arrived with a promise of as much more to follow as we cared to consume).

The crockery is all vintage china – Rachel was given a green cup, saucer and plate because it matched her jumper – and the warm chocolate cake with ice cream came in a large dish which struggled to contain the oozing delights within. I’m assured that it is, in fact, the best chocolate cake ever.

I plumped [funny how that word just sprang to mind!] for pancakes with maple syrup and (oops) ice cream. I think it is the only time in my life that I’ve eaten ice cream with a dinner fork – which is how it was served - but it this a very small cavil considering that I’d probably have eaten it out of a trough on the floor if I’d had to, it was so delicious.

Slightly regretted not having time to visit The Pennyfarthing antique and book shop on Quality Street (yes, really – and no toffees in purple cellophane to be seen). But given my unfortunate inability to walk into a secondhand book shop and emerge carrying less than a half-hundredweight of must-have books, it is probably just as well. I’d have had to courier them home to myself at vast expense.

'. . . holding up clouds with three syllables . . .'

Here's another Wild Goose Poem for you (see some of my previous posts).

This one is brand new and hot off the press. It's by Michael Gravel , who's a poet in Edmonton, Alberta. It landed in my email inbox one Friday last month because I'm on Michael's Friday's Poem mailing list (why not sign up yourself? - his poems are brilliant and thought-provoking and they can brighten up a working Friday in a flash).

I didn't publish it here when it first arrived (even though its timing was so very apt), because it's ©, and I couldn't link to it because it wasn't on Michael's website at the time.

But it is now, so click here to enjoy Wild Geese

‘One can love a country until it hurts’

It was good to have finished Alexander McCall Smith’s The Careful Use of Compliments just days before visiting Edinburgh. I’ve long been a fan of McCall Smith’s effortless, cool prose – and reading one of his Scotland Street or Isabel Dalhousie novels is like enjoying a particularly fine afternoon tea, with perfectly assembled sandwiches and cakes, partaken in the company of some delightful and interesting friends. There’s a hint of cosiness, but never anything too sweet or cloying. When I started reading, I was a little worried that this latest offering was going to fall short of its predecessors and I began to wonder whether there was a hint of the formulaic – a good idea grown a little tired and lifeless. Luckily, my fears were allayed once the book got going (or perhaps once I got going with it), and I ended up enjoying it every bit as much as I had the previous books in the series.



On my train journey from Berwick-upon-Tweed into Edinburgh on Wednesday, following the coast round to the west, via Dunbar and North Berwick - the Bass Rock glowing yellowy-white in the autumn sunshine as if illuminated from within, the Firth of Forth an inky blue – I remembered the words of Isabel Dalhousie: ‘The whole point of being in Scotland was that one was in Scotland’ and ‘One can love a country until it hurts’.

Spent the morning mainly exploring the Old Town streets and shops – revisiting familiar places and happening upon new ones.

Top favourite shopping discovery for the day was Ragamuffin, on the corner of Canongate and the Royal Mile. A sensory treasure-house of hand-made textiles – from coats, shirts and skirts, to knitwear and accessories, including some by Hume sweet Hume (a big favourite of mine). I was in heaven – though it took me an age and a half to make a decision between the hundreds of delights on offer.

In the end I contracted a sudden onset of Bookshop Syndrome and came out with two items instead of one – well, three, in fact, but one was definitely a birthday present for a friend rather than a(nother) greedy self-indulgence. I told myself quite convincingly that I’d keep one scarf and give the other as a Christmas present, but once I got them home I realised that they’d both accidentally ended up in my chest of drawers. I can’t think how that happened, but I guess I’ll simply have to accept, gracefully, that it has, and try to make the best of things.

The softest imaginable, mossy knitted alpaca scarf:

Festive textures and intense, rich colour (this photo doesn’t do it justice at all):

The one thing I was really looking for – the much-needed Timberland boots - eluded me all morning. Just wasn’t in the right part of the city.

Lunched in the justly renowned Cafe Royal Bar:

Click here and scroll down to see the huge tile portraits of famous inventors which are a special feature of the decor – I sat directly beneath Robert Peel having a eureka moment with his calico printing machine.

Ordered Guinness (naturally) and a smoked salmon, cream cheese and cucumber sandwich. The latter came, rather surprisingly, with a portion of plump, crisp chips and a leafy side-salad. Chips with sandwiches? Well, it is Scotland – and with all that running up and down steep hills and steps all over the city, I suppose the extra calories are probably deemed necessary. I chomped my way happily through the lot without demur, anyway.

A huge coffee followed, which I enjoyed while perusing that morning’s Scotsman newspaper. I gave up on the crossword after a minute and a half (crosswords have never been my forte - or even my pianissimo), but enjoyed an episode of Volume 5 of Alexander McCall Smith’s tales from Scotland Street, which are serialised in the paper before being published in book form.

Decided to tackle the shops on Princes Street and its environs in a final desperate push for some Sensible Footwear. Eventually found a branch of Jones on George Street which stocked a pair of Timberland Nellies in my size. Not pink, not lilac, not blue or red or purple. Just boring brown. But they did the trick – my feet went ‘ahhhh, thank you’; my Visa card went ‘ouch!’, and I got a free bar of chocolate at the till for being a good girl.

Suitably attired for a good brisk walk, I set off for the Gallery of Modern Art , which is off to the West, over the Water of Leith, and just beyond Dean village. Bathed in sumptuous golden light, the city looked ethereally beautiful. I had never seen Edinburgh in anything other than damp, grey weather, so it was an absolute treat and a delight.

Water of Leith from Belford Bridge.

The Virgin of Alsace by Bourdelle - in the grounds of the Dean Gallery.

Charles Jencks' prizewinning Landform Ueda - a stepped, serpentine-shaped mound and crescent-shaped pools of water in the grounds at the front of the gallery. Part artwork, part landscaping - you can climb all over it and I wish I'd had time to exploit its huge photographic potential.

The Gallery is a favourite haunt of old. Its permanent collection includes the paintings which, aged 15, inspired me to study Art History. Here are some I particularly love. I can’t describe how wonderful it was to see them up close and personal once again:

Bonnard - View of the River, Vernon 1923.

Derain - Collioure 1905.

Matisse - The Painting Lesson 1919.

Vuillard - Nature morte au bougeoir c.1900.

Peploe - Still Life c.1913.

Having arrived later than intended, I didn’t have time to do justice to the current Richard Long exhibition, unfortunately, though there were some interesting pieces dotted around outside the show itself – notably Cornish Slate Cross, which I was able to survey while enjoying a Nice Cup of Tea in the gallery cafe.

Back into town – now teeming with people who’d finished work – to meet a friend for tea before my train home. Went to The Elephant House – an intriguingly decorated cafe, which claims to be 'The Birthplace of Harry Potter', because this is apparently where J K Rowling often 'mulled over a coffee writing her first Harry Potter novel'. (I suspect that places where this is supposed to have occurred will soon be as ubiquitous as venues claiming that ‘Elizabeth I slept here’, or 'Mary, Queen of Scots was held captive here’.)

There wasn't a lot of time before my train back to Berwick, but we managed several cups of Earl Grey. There's nothing like drinking tea in a good cafe in excellent company!

Soon I was speeding eastward through the dark on the King's Cross train. There was nothing to see from the windows, so I flicked through my Companion Guide to the Gallery and reflected on my long but thoroughly rewarding, sunny and memorable day.

TBTE

Back on the Muddy Island. It's as though I'd never been away . . .

sad . . .

. . . but true

South Africa 15: England 6

'Do You Write Under Your Own Name?'

Delighted to learn that crime writer Martin Edwards has started his own blog this week.

Regular visitors to Musings will know that I'm a bit of a fan of Martin's books - and I've been lucky enough to have been allowed a sneak preview of his forthcoming Harry Devlin novel, Waterloo Sunset.

I had been reading the draft manuscript on the train journey back from Scotland, got home, checked quickly through the hundreds of emails awaiting my attention, and spotted one from Martin announcing the birth of his blog. I'm really pleased he's taken the plunge, despite the many other calls upon his time.

It's going to be a good one - both for readers of crime fiction and for aspiring writers too - so do pop over and take a look.

Feeling jittery . . .

TBTM

. . . . only it wasn't the usual B, TM. It was Coldingham Bay, Berwickshire . . .

Breaking free

Well, She Who is Constantly Chained To Her Desk is breaking free at last. Hooray.

I’m off to Scotland for a few days to stay with lovely artist friend Rachel, and hoping to fit in a whole day in Edinburgh (art galleries, shops, gardens, architecture . . . bliss) and another exploring the wonderful coastline north of Eyemouth. I absolutely can’t wait - and indeed won’t have to for very much longer.

However, this Slightly Big Adventure comes at a price: it’s being paid for in advance with a frantic day’s work - tying up loose ends and getting all my publishing projects into to a state where they can chug along elsewhere for a while in my absence. This is one of the many ‘joys’ [pause for manic laughter] of self-employment. One can’t down tools at 5 pm and say to a colleague, ‘I’m on holiday now, so please take care of everything while I’m away’. Because nobody will. And a couple of my clients have responded fairly peevishly: time off? without asking me? in the middle of a production schedule? what can you be thinking of? how will this impact on our publication date?

Yes, I know, I’m so very irresponsible – taking [unpaid] time out for a [four-day] break when my last proper holiday was . . . um . . . . let me see . . . oh yes! Two years ago! You can see their point, can’t you? I really push my luck sometimes.

Thankfully, the majority have been accommodating and kind, and their good wishes will help to speed me on my way.

As my contribution to Blog Action Day for the Environment, I had been meaning to put together a post about the Rising Sea Levels and Their Projected Impact on Estuarine Saltmarshes, with particular reference to those on the Muddy Island. The Blackwater estuary, in which the island sits, is one of the top ten estuaries in Western Europe as a wildlife habitat, and a large proportion of it has SSSI (Site of Special Scientific Interest) status. The Mersea saltmarshes form part of the Eastern Atlantic Flyway, which is a migration route for millions of seabirds, stretching from Siberia to South Africa, among them the Brent Geese which have prompted several of my previous posts in the last few weeks. As always, the very best place to read about – and see wonderful photos of - the wildlife and landscapes of Mersea is Dougal’s blog, which I can't recommend highly enough if you want to get a feel for the less populated eastern end of the Muddy Island.

I feel really bad about this, but I just haven’t had time to knit all my Blog Action Day for the Environment notes into publishable form. Luckily, some of my favourite bloggers have not been so remiss. You can read Blog Action Day posts on 60goingon16; RandomDistractions; and Shedworking; and you can see here a complete list of the 15,861 blogs which signed up to join in – reaching an estimated combined readership of 12,697,713 people across the globe.

Blogger has posted this list of particularly environmentally friendly blogs:

Cleantech Blog - Commentary on technologies, news, and issues relating to next generation energy and the environment.
The Conscious Earth - Earth-centered news for the health of air, water, habitat and the fight against global warming.
Earth Meanders - Earth essays placing environmental sustainability within the context of other contemporary issues.
Environmental Action Blog - Current environmental issues and green energy news.
The Future is Green - Thoughts on the coming of a society that is in balance with nature.
The Green Skeptic - Devoted to challenging assumptions about how we live on the earth and protect our environment.
Haute*Nature - Ecologically based creative ideas, art & green products for your children, home and lifestyle, blending style with sustainability.
The Lazy Environmentalist - Sustainable living made easy.
Lights Out America - A grassroots community group organizing nationwide energy savings events.
The Nature Writers of Texas - The best nature writing from the newspaper, magazine, blog and book authors of the Lone Star State.
Rachel Carson Centennial Book Club - Considering the legacy of Rachel Carson's literary and scientific contributions with a different book each month.
Sustainablog - News, information and personal meanderings related to environmental and economic sustainability, green and sustainable business, and environmental politics.
These Come From Trees - An experiment in environmentalism, viral marketing, and user interface design with the goal of reducing consumer waste paper.

And these aren't blogs but here are two of my very favourite environmentally friendly products, which I'm always bleating about but I'll do it again today, with no apologies:

Sheep Poo Paper (and coming soon, for Christmas, Reindeer Poo Paper).

And Coconoil. Founded by a former disaster emergency expert who took part in the relief effort in Sri Lanka after the Tsunami, Coconoil has encouraged sustainable coconut farming on the west coast of Sri Lanka, using traditional methods and absolutely no pesticides. Based on the passionate belief that commerce and compassion can work hand in hand on a global basis, Coconoil provides stable employment and fairly traded export revenues and brings us a wonderful multi-purpose product, with health benefits both a food and externally applied for hair and skin. Without a doubt one of Mother Nature's miracle cure-all substances. As recommended quite noisily by myself, and also in the excellent Imperfectly Natural Woman .

"If you’d like to feel good about yourself and save the planet – read this book". Zac Goldsmith. The Ecologist