Big Folk - tour day 5

Today, in the lost glens of the Highlands, the sun shone. It was even warm.  The whole place had a beautiful glow about it as the low light brought a vibrancy to the greens and rusts of grass and braken.  The Birch twigs were especially beautiful in the muted purple, colonising the hillside.

Sam took our family up a big hill to experience a major marker on a ley-line of earth energy.  It's a place that never fails to impress.  Grandeur oozes, light moves, the sky opens and closes, breezes caress, time moves and doesn't.  I'm sure you know the kind of place.  I'd say that it worked for our guests.

Jenn: “The sun was shining. The time was spacious.”

Assata: "There were lots of rocks that were really fun to climb on. The rushing stream was loud and pretty. We saw the Fairy Circle. There was no wind. There were sheep with orange spots. One on each sheep.”

Ella (7): "It was rocky. There were some swamps. Bog country. There were two bones. It was lots of fun.”

To misquote Pushing Tin:"Big Sky, lots of hills."

This area of the Highlands is particularly noted for both its human remoteness and the large number of markers on the energy lines of the earth.
If you are not familiar with these lines, ley-lines, then think of them as a cobweb of energy flows covering the globe, like the tiny veins in the human body.  Although not well understood, they seem to be generated in part from the fault lines and geological anomalies below the surface.  They are then diverted and focused by things like natural boulders, water, standing stones, pylons etc.  They are often felt by humans simply as a place that has a nice, or otherwise, atmosphere, for no obvious reason.  In Celtic lands, we tend to mark junctions and other notables along them with churches, standing stones, burial grounds as well as naturally occurring markers.  It's a big topic, indeed some have spent years measuring, explaining, interpreting them, applying feel and science alike to the endeavour.  It's one of the few areas where science and spiritual understanding re-converge across the divide created just 400 years ago.

I, Scot, did not partake in this adventure.  I stayed in the glen floor looking for a stone that I have searched for often.  It's associated with the Fiana, an ancient standing army of semi godlike warriors from my Celtic past.  Yet again, I could not find it.  I hear rumour that it has been taken away by a local farmer and locked in a barn.  I'm not sure if for protection or spite.  Either way it's a pity.  It is like removing the stained glass window of Notre Dame for fear that the glass might crack.  Precautions can be taken.

Still, I told a Tale after dinner of a member of the Fianna, so maybe that will make up for it, bring back their essence.

Who knows what adventures Jenn, Charles and Les Angels will be thrust into tomorrow.
Actually, I do. Mwha Mwha Mwha!

On another note, things are geting awfy busy with the Jamie and Claire Tour.  Sam is hosting a private tour for Vicky and family in April, tailored to their wants and timings.  Then the May tour will come along just as quick. Currently there is a waiting list for it.  Donas (9 seater van) is full, but she can hire a Gideon (a second van, similarly bad tempered) if there are 3-4 more Outlandish Spirits.  I expect I'll be given the most bitey beast to control:  "Scot, van whisperer".  Sounds better than Aven's Cow Wisperering from the Grain Tour last year, maybe.

As I understand it, the variation on this May's tour is we'll be staying in Lallybroch (subject to confirmation from Jemmy and family).
Co-dhiu, anyway, it is late; the family are abed, the water still rushes down the falls outside and I have a magical adventure to co-create tomorrow.

Mar sin leibh, a h-uile duine.

Wee Folk - many folk

The tour begins again for Jennifer, Charles and their daughters.

Jenn has been at a workshop in Glasgow for the last few days, Living in the Heart, and the family have been experiencing the city.

We picked them up this morning and traveled east to Rosslyn Chapel.  There we met with the workshop friends and the host, Ron Laplace.  A grand bunch of people with big hearts and bigger smiles.

I had not been to the chapel for many years.  It now sits under its own roof, not the temporary one that was in place, like a big steel gazebo, for 14 years.

A photo would have been good, but tour guided-error left the camera in the van.  I've noticed the camera doesn't work very well under such conditions.  Sorry about that.

The place is much changed.  We were blessed to be present when a prayer ceremony took place.  The pews were full with visitors amidst red and white barriers to keep people falling into the open holes left by the workmen who are still working away on the fabric.  They could be heard outside banging lumps of metal together and shuffling quietly through the seated throng sporting hi-viz vests and tool boxes.  Quite an incongruous energy at first glance until the little old lady reading out the prayer requests calls for healing for a family, whose father is one of the workmen on the chapel.  Brought it all together.

The new lead roof on the chapel is very fine and apparently a lot better than the original one that leaked, so the curator says, since the beginning in the 13-14th century.  Our guests enjoyed it, more so for being able to share it with friends.  Perhaps we'll hear from them in their own words later.

From there we headed down into the Glenn that the chapel sits above.  Ron Laplace's guests and all.

It's more of a gorge than a glen, with shear sandstone cliffs at some points.  The place is full of native trees and today had warm sunlight dappling the river over a hundred feet below the rim.  There is an ancient quality, a human quality even, to the glen.  Perhaps the presence of hand cut caves into the sandstone and old monastic walls in the fields above give the impression of a place of much sacred daily life, only recently grown over.

I led us down and then along the river finally coming up beneath the Rosslyn Castle.  From this angle it looks more like a castle in Transalvania or Wallachia, perched on the gorge face, trees encroaching.

The imposing stone was softened by the wild garlic that is just coming into leaf all around the castle on the slopes below.  Their bright green blade-like leaves shone in the sun beneath the leafless trees.  The smell was clear and refreshing.

This evening the girls were awed by having late lunch /dinner in another castle.  "It's like, a real castle", said Assata.  "It is a real castle", came the reply.
"So how old is it?" she asked.  "Well bits in the middle are about 700 years old, but this bit here by the door is quite young, maybe only three or four hundred."
"Yeh," she said, looking a bit non-plussed, "only three or four hundred."

I have performed a couple of weddings here and I told the story over dinner of the couple who wanted their rings delivered to the altar by an owl.  I raised an eyebrow at this one when they sprung it on me half an hour before the ceremony.

As we called for the rings in the wedding, I wasn't much surprised when the owl did not fly down the isle as trained but veered off and crashed into the pews.  A long minute of self containment passed before the poor bird finally hopped up onto the best man's gauntlet and the rings were retrieved. 

Tonight we are sleeping in an old smiddy, deep in the Highlands.  Water rushes by, courtesy of the falls outside the house.  The place is surrounded by trees and it's below freezing.  Math gu dearbh! (Good indeed!)

Scot

Day 3 in search of ... silkies

I thought some images of the house we have been staying in would be of interest.

First flowers of the year - Snowdrops

Birch Owl - every home should have one to catch the wooden mice

Now, some words from yesterday from those who were there.

Assata (eldest daughter): “its been fun here in Scotland,we've done a lot..We've gone to lots of places and seen lots of things."

Jenn: "A highlight for me in Kilmarten was the sacred well near the remains of a settlement. We were all (children and adults alike) entranced by the water – its taste, its marking stone with the Middle Eastern cross and pagan symbols, its reflection, its temperature, and all of the life bubbling up inside it. We encircled the tiny well pool for some time, gazing into it. To me, it felt connected to the heavens."

Investigating the holy well

The place engages the attention

So, that was a little more on yesterday.  Today we are in search of Wee Folk for wee folk - it's off to the aquarium.  Shy octopus, seals, sea stars.  We are all in our little child mode, gazing upon beautiful things with awe and wonder.

Here endeth part one of the tour.  Jenn is taking part in a workshop in Glasgow for a few days.  The children and Charles will have play a plenty in the big city.

I'm off to a conference of thespians.  Could be hell in a bottle...

Bidh sinn gur faicinn a-rithist. We'll be seeing you again, next week for a trip into the Highlands in search of earth energies.

Tour Day 2 of the Wee Folk

Meeting Stones and Water
Might be a good title for the day.  The guests are all in bed.  We wore them out, so there will be no words from them.  I sit by the fire (as seen in yestere'en's post) and recount the Tale of the day.

Aven has been joining us on our tour - in the blogosphere.  Nice to hear from you and know that you are with us, lass.  As many will know, our tours are a bit like a select club of followers, guests, friends.  Like the Cosa Nostra, anyone can join but they can never leave, so you are welcome with us Aven.  Send my regards to your quiet man, John.

To the day...

The posse, ready for mischief

We've been finding out about our guests.  That's Cee Cee in the front in pink.  She's too cute to be trifled with.  She sits in the middle seat of honour in the van, surveying the road ahead and bursting into song and great volume and enthusiasm.  "Dingle beh, Dingle beh, dingle aw duh ay!"

We went today to a place who's name I won't publish here, for the downside of the internet is that search engines can soon rack up a huge amount of publicity for a place, much more than the fragile beauty can cope with.  I'm thinking that if you're meant to find the place, you will.  It's one of Britain's gems and constitutes a huge collection of ancient sites in a fertile glen of Mid Argyll, named after a Celtic-Christian community of the 6th and 7th century founded on the teachings of Martin de Tour.  Nuf said?  You can work it out.

Samantha and I lived in this Glen for 5 years and I spent most of my time guiding visitors around it or with my nose in the archives researching it's history, so I know it quite well.  There are a large number of ancient burial chambers, amongst the many, many attractions.

Cee Cee and Charles make their own ceremony to raise the dead.  They sit in a burial ciste 4000 years old.  The ceremony involved Cee Cee singing, of course.  "Dingo beh, dingo beh..."

The stone circle with it's flooring of cairn stones

We went then to an even less visited place where the roofless dwellings of the families from the 1600s still stand, surrounding and caring for a sacred well that produces the most sweet water.  We spent much time drinking and getting close to this soothing elixir, playing with lampreys and tiny fresh water shrimps ("caterpillars" to Cee Cee) that inhabit the well, like water spirits.
Towering over a byre in the clachan (hamlet) is a most beautiful larch tree, and my favourite image of the day, below.

"Number 3, The Larch"

The final stop of the day was a castle, burnt out 350 years ago.  It's not in bad shape. We climbed two of its towers and gazed the length of the great hall.  Tonight after a wonderful meal from our host, I told the Tale of the man that built it and published the first book in the Gaidhlig language from the castle, to the grandson that lost the place to a bloody feud and vengeful MacLeans bearing torches and daggers.

Worthy of mention is our meal this night.  We are staying in a rather sumptuous estate house with Mathew and Yvonne.  It is a "Dinner B&B" which is a title that does it no justice.  We are staying in the home of two fine people, which we share with them.  Mathew is a most excellent cook.  He prepared a fresh four course meal which was enjoyed in his regal dining room.  Not bad for a man who left of pouring the concrete floor of his new shed not two hours before.  Busy and varied people are highlanders.

Tomorrow?  Oh I don't know, castles?  the ocean? the repository of wonderful creatures?  the capital of an ancient kingdom?
You'll have to follow follow follow...

Tour - In Search of Wee Folk

Also known as The Adventures of Charlie's Angels.

So, blog followers, Scot writes to you from a fine mansion house on the West Coast of Scotland.  We are guiding a private tour for Jennifer, Charles and their three lassies.  A grand bunch of explorers in the Outlandish Spirit.

It's a private tour request and the focus is "the sacred sites and haunts of the Wee Folk" to paraphrase Jennifer.  We have many of these to choose from and we know more than enough to keep our braw guests happy and satiated for a week.

We picked them up from the airport this morning and they are very tired, so we'll be gentle with them - just a wee hill hike, or two.

The first adventure for the girls is a ferry ride Doon the Watter, as the Glaswegians say.  We're over to green and luscious Cowal to a strange wee ravine where as the water pours down and the trees block out the light, the moss and mist drip into the fast clear water and you might think that every lump of rock, buttress of root and branch is sentient.  The place is more than alive, where eyes watch you, eyes that sit secretively in beings that are part animal, part mineral and mostly tree.  There's a good reason that they call this place Puck's Glen.

Wee Folk in Puck's Glen

Jennifer's description "a magically alive glen that was somehow brought even more to life by the snow falling.  The light coming through the canopy...  I saw more in the periphery than simply by looking up."
Yup, that's Puck's Glen.

So, upon settling into our B&B, they are looking much better after a picnic dinner we brought along. We're now sat in the comfortable drawing room in front of the open fire playing cards amidst the silken curtains and brocaded armchairs.

An antiquated photo of our wee mansion.

A bit of Luxury - Like walking into a Country Home magazine!

So, Outlandish Followers, a bit of luxury on this private tour to ease the jet lag out of the body and nurture the soul with beautiful surroundings,  a warm fire, fantastic cuisine being prepared for us tomorrow and welcoming, friendly hosts .  Tomorrow we will be visiting some of the greatest ancient places, standing stones and folk where the wee-folk live.  Want your name spoken into a sacred tree?  A stone placed in the earth with your name on it? Live vicariously this week.  Perhaps next time it will be you.

Scot AnSgeulaiche, storyteller, regaler of history, stealer of blogs.

It's all happening again!

Scot AnSgeulache here,
I have ambushed the Outlandish Blog.  For why?  Well, Sam is too busy to write it.  It's that season when the Outlandish Spirits of this world (you) are frequent in their emails, wanting to join this year's Jamie and Claire tours, asking questions about them, and Herself is busy booking accommodation (always a lengthy process).
She has some interesting variations on this May tour.  The guests will be staying in one place for a wee while.  Think of it like our own Castle Leoch, from out of which forays will be happening. It gives the guests a chance to be out of the saddle for a few days, to have the run of the place, to BE.

That's where we'll be staying for 5 nights of the 8.  Now that I come to think on it, it's more like staying at the Reverend Wakefield / Fiona Graham's place, don't you think?  It's actually quite close to that as well.  I trust the hot water is delivered by something more modern than a match-lit gas geizer (although if the Outlandish Spirits are looking for authenticity...)

So, Blog followers, share your comments on that, so that I know yer there.


Here's a favourite photo of mine from last May's tour - The Grain Tour - that I think gives that sense.  It's John looking over Loch Ness.

Other winter news.  We have our own Cheety.  He has adopted us, forceably at claw point.  We don't want a cheety, but he for reasons best known to his wee feline brain, has chosen to starve himself on the doorstep (and in the wood shed) rather than go home to where he gets fed, at our neighbours over the field.

He has been staking us out for almost two years, pushing his way into our house and generally being a craitur bochd.

We have cried him Faing.  He has long fang like teeth and Faing (pronounced Fank) is old Scots for a pen to hold sheep in, derived from the Norse word Fange, to imprison, take hold of, not let go.  Aye, that'll be him.

 See the fangs?

That's him after food, again.

Le meas, with respect, Scot

Jamie and Claire Tour returns

DAY 10 - Return of the Natives

We leave the islands today. The ferry will take us to Eilean a'Cheò, Scotland's biggest island, from where we will drive to the mainland. Yesterday Scot bought some Harris tweed socks. It was in a wee 10 x 6 foot shed where Sandra has her workshop – she is one of the many cottage industry crafters here and one of the few that actually makes Harris Tweed bags on the island. She asked with a concerned look on her face “you do know to wash Harris tweed socks?” We misunderstood the question and began replying “yes, wool-wash programme...”
No. She meant that they were actually be washed, just checking. So unfolded the story of the man that bought three pairs from her. Sometime later she got a package in the post thinking that someone had sent her a present. She opened the bag to be greeted by a stench and three pairs of her own knitted socks. There was a note explaining that he had been told he could not wash tweed socks so here they were back again, having been worn extensively but never washed, and he'd like a refund. Some choice words were spoken about the, let's say level of knowledge of life-basics held by this customer. We never got the end of the story as to what she did in response. We'll email her and keep you posted.

This morning was spent in the tweed storehouse, pictured yesterday, trying to make a tweed choice in just two hours before the ferry sails. We were left running for the boat, bags in hand. The Sisters have bought tweed-leather holdall bags to augment their carrying capacity for the journey home. Scot has a new feilieadh beag (looks like a kilt) and I have a bent, warm credit card.

Tonight we dine on the side of Loch Linne.  The mist is about, the place looks fantastic as ever.

DAY 11 - Hiking Hills and visiting Lallybroch

So, back to the mainland and back "on book" to complete the Jamie and Claire Tour Cross, Bones and Island Stones.  The islands have been, of course, Amazing, and we've only done three out of about 800.   As ever, the sisters stayed in good form walking up and down wee mountains and hills - the best way to get yer land legs back!

Mare: "And we found Lallybroch this morning, strolling about the grounds with its gardens, fields and outbuildings including its own chapel. Sweet.."

The mountains and hills around Glencoe are spectacular, lush and green. So many trees in this part of Scotland. Loved that it was a sunny morning after yesterday's all day soaking. [Sam: It's raining in July... Oh, we must be in Scotland!]  Our B&B hostess begged us not to take the sunshine away from Glencoe, but we did anyway.  Scotland has an amazing variety of terrain, weather and scenery. [Sam:  We call it atmosphere].

Sam: Glencoe, for all it's history is still one of my favorite places. Being enveloped in lush green from all sides and making the rest of the world disappear; perhaps its own little Brigadoon.

Care: "Glencoe is a marvel, so very panoramic, I could barely take it all in as much as I would've liked...  Actually, all of Scotland, so very different wherever you go, has been a thrill, especially seeing it with our own special tour guides!"

We drove the length of Skye, stopping for some 'hill walking' aka hiking and discovering new sun bleached bones along the way; perhaps just one more for our collection?  Then on to a famous castle to see how the west was won.

We stopped in at The Storyteller's Cottage (our home). PIC: The Sisters in situ, proving that our house exists and is not in Brigadoon.

Mare: "Ah well...here we are [back] in Edinburgh to see what there is about, and with all the bustling, it should be an entertaining afternoon. Great view from our top floor flat in the middle of town and really fine to know what is behind those nondescript doors along the street. Away from the wind swept Isles now in sunny Edinburgh, happy to not be blown off our very feet.  Uh oh. Sam said I HAD to order Turkish food at this Edinburgh restaurant, so I reluctantly acquiesced and ordered chicken couscous. Of course the lady at the next table had some for me to examine first and of course, it looked pretty good."

Sam: Oy! Through the whole tour we're told about middle eastern and other exotic places the sisters love to eat at back home. So I take them to my favorite Turkish restaurant and Care attempts to order a basic British chicken and bacon wrap.....what!? No, no, no, you may as well order a burger!  New country - new experiences - that's my motto!

DAY 12 - Edinburgh ~ Claire Returns

Edinburgh. Today we walked the closes and haunts of old Edninburgh. In one of those great coincidences that we seem to happen upon quite a lot when on tour, we were stood in Carfax Close, reading the passage about Claire's arrival in search of A. Malcolm and the passage about dodging the “gardez loo!”, when a little old lady came out in cap and pinny and emptied a bucket of slop down the street, running between my feet. Being the 21st century, though, it was just bleach-water, thankfully.  Perfect timing though. It looked like we'd set it up for the Sisters. These things seem to happen a lot on the tour and really add to the authenticity.

We dined in Moubray's Tavern. OK it's been closed for more than a century so we didn't get oyster stew and “take a room” afterwards, but we did dine on the steps of the old tavern.

Mare: "Yes, the last day of the tour has arrived and then after our 3 day extension of Edinburgh on our own when the tour is complete, we will board the Big Blue Bus to the airport, kicking and screaming. Edinburgh is a fitting way to finish up (where we started), and we made the most of our morning.    Ate a different cuisine provided by Scot on the steps of Moubray's Tavern and listening to the appropriate readings from Voyager.  Then to the closes, the World's End, the tea shop in a close complete with a cafe owner swabbing down the pavement. So much to see and it's been wonderful to identify places that could have been the real thing had the book been non-fiction instead of a great story."

Sam: Fiction?! Fye! I'd say those were fighting words!

Mare:  "Thanks, Sam and Scot – it's been great and an experience we'll not forget, ever!"

Our Outlandish Spirits proved to be a joy to be around.  We enjoyed the humor and camaraderie of Marilyn and Carolyn and they will be truly missed.
PIC: our final time together.

 PIC: Scot's favourite tour picture: