Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts

Monday, 5 October 2015

A weekend in the Cairngorms - Day 2

On the second day in Glenmore, I decided to walk up Meall a'Bhuachaille, a 820m high Corbett. But first, an amazing breakfast at my youth hostel: hot apple pie with lots of ice cream. Judging from the looks of my fellow guests I might have started a trend.

Off I went through nice woodlands until I reach An Lochan Uain - the small green lake.


And then off into the open heather landscape.


Soon Ryvoan Bothy came into view - will keep it in mind as an emergency accommodation, it looked quite cozy inside (although I was glad for my warm youth hostel room nonetheless).


 Then it goes up. The stairs are steep and I'm soon questioning why exactly I'm doing this.


The bothy is soon far below.

 The first major views were very rewarding:

And finally, the top, marked by a large storm cairn.


Great views of Loch Morlich:



Look at those views!


Suddenly, there were reindeer! I couldn't believe my eyes, it was amazing...






At some point they disappeared in the direction I had come from, so I decided to start the long descent.


I had to laugh when I saw this sign. Allow 5-6 hours - I needed only three, and I'm not even in good shape.



Pity the weekend was over so soon. I will be back!



Sunday, 4 October 2015

A weekend in the Cairngorms - Day 1

I decided to leave the city for the weekend after my birthday and escape to the highlands. I spent two amazing days in the Cairngorms - taking the train up to Aviemore and staying at Cairngorm Lodge youth hostel.

From Aviemore train station, I walked to Lynwilg (using part of the new Speyside Way extension) before climbing Geal-charn Mor (824m) - the Big White Hill - a short but beautiful hike. Hundreds of young pheasants watched my every move, as did some very curious sheep. 


I had never seen a sign like that before: 


Spot the pheasants!


 I can never get enough of heather:


The mountain is getting rougher:



The views are getting better by the minute:


I've made it!


Someone seems a little confused by my outburst:


 One last time...


Saturday, 18 July 2015

Walking in Holyrood Park

Breaking in the new camera, now that the sun has finally decided to shine on Edinburgh.











Friday, 1 November 2013

Winning is fun - Stirling University Photography Competition

After winning the Stirling Uni Photography Competition in the category "Student Life", our images are now shown in an exhibition at the Macrobert Centre at the university for the next three weeks. There was a nice little ceremony on Monday (see picture below). And I got 150 pounds in high-street vouchers. Happy :)

I took this picture on the top of our local mountain Dumyat (only 418m high, but still a lovely summit to hike up to) after a snow storm - only minutes before we couldn't even see the ground below our feet, and the next moment the clouds disappeared and Stirling's main landmark, the Wallace Monument, was framed quite nicely by them.
The happy winners

Thursday, 17 October 2013

Living off the streets

Saturday was spent in Glasgow, hunting for photo opportunities for a university assignment. The topic: Living off the streets - i.e. buskers, homeless/jobless people, fundraisers, painters,... It was a group project, and we had to produce two edited photos each, which were then arranged on a photo board together with a short article on the subject. We managed to photograph quite a wide range of subjects, more than I had thought possible after spending only a few hours on Glasgow's high streets.
Here are my own two photographs (to enlarge, click on them, although somehow they aren't as sharp as the originals):

An accordion band in Stirling.

An Asian tourist filming a Spanish guitarist with his iPhone.
Here the entire photo board.

Monday, 23 September 2013

My new room

I just moved into my lovely room in Stirling's Midpoint Apartments. It's the best student place I've lived in so far, especially because of the ensuite bathroom and the lovely big bed.
Here are a few pictures:
View from the door
The amazing 3/4 bed (half-way between a single and a double)
The pinboard, waiting for a few more postcards

The desk, nice and large - and already home to a few plants

The small bathroom - but it's all mine :)

Sunday, 4 November 2012

“I gave up everything”


[This is an article I wrote for university.]


Born in India and educated in Scotland, Tessa Ransford founded the Scottish Poetry Library in 1984. Now aged 73, she lives on her own in Edinburgh and still writes poetry every day.


I have rheumatism, so when I get up in the morning, I first do around 20 minutes of exercise. At the same time, I'm listening to radio programmes like “Start the Week”, or “Woman's Hour”, depending on what time I get up.

I have porridge for breakfast, but that's partly because of a thyroid cancer operation I had last autumn - I couldn't swallow hard things like cereals, so now I have porridge. I sometimes eat bread and marmalade, but I always end up throwing away the rest of the bread, because it is very hard to get through a whole loaf if you live on your own. It's not fair, the supermarkets say “Two for the price of one”, but you don't want two if you live alone.

After breakfast I buy the paper and go for a walk. I love listening to the birds while walking though the park. I do any shopping I need, come back, have a coffee, and then I write until lunchtime. I'm writing every day. At the moment I am working on a review of a book in which Scottish poetry was translated into German. But I don't get paid for this work. I don't make a single sou, in fact I lose money by being a poet.

In the eighties, I had my first two or three books of poetry published, and although they'd been reviewed, I didn't have anyone to talk to. I was a housewife, I didn't have anyone to get feedback from. In those days, even if you had poetry published, you didn't mention it to anyone. It was very isolated.

So in 1981, I started a workshop for people writing poetry, called the “School of Poets”. There were twelve of us. It was a workshop for people who were already writing, not for people who thought they might like to write. I called it “practicing poets”. People rather jeered at that, saying that any genuine poet wouldn't need any teaching. It was incredible what some said. But my reply was: “You don't know what you need to know until you need to know it”. You're always learning and experimenting. You're absorbing new ideas. So the interaction with other poets is vital.

After that, through meeting those other poets and realizing the emptiness of the literature scene for poets, I founded the Scottish Poetry Library in 1984, and we got some funding and got the project started. I felt, no one else is going to give up everything for this, so I did. Lots of people contributed wonderfully, but me, I gave up everything. Everything, that's what it took. I don't regret doing it. There's no point regretting things.

I ran the library for 18 years, until it moved to the building it's now in, and then I retired. My work wasn't for nothing, it succeeded, the Poetry Library has got a huge amount of money now and it's doing really well.

I got an OBE for the work I did with the Poetry Library. It was very exciting. I felt that it was important to accept it because of all the work other people had done to make it possible, it wasn't just for me. It was in Holyrood Palace, and Sean Connery was getting a knighthood the same day. I was in the same building with the Queen and Sean Connery, and the captain of the Scottish Rugby team.

You can almost see Holyrood from my window. When I first came to this flat, I wrote poems looking out of the window for a year. “Shadows from the Greater Hill” consisted of poems from different seasons and different times of day. Since I had the operation, I've used the view over Arthur's Seat once again for inspiration. The painter Cézanne painted this mountain Mont Sainte-Victoire over eighty times. Well, Arthur's seat is my Mont Sainte-Victoire. It's so close, you can almost touch it.

After writing, there's lunch. I like rice, tea, marmite and butter. I love butter. I always put lots of butter on my bread and lots of butter in my cooking. I don't care about cholesterol. I think that's because we were short of everything when I was a child during wartime. I try to have salad and fruit often. I used to have chapattis for lunch, but now I have pancakes.

After lunch I check my e-mails, and usually work until 5.30, if I don't have the grandchildren here after school. I have eight grandchildren, six boys, two girls. The eldest is 25, she's a professional dancer and singer, the youngest is seven. They are all amazing.

My father was a Royal Engineer. After the First World War, he was posted to India. That was what happened in those days, it was quite normal to go to India, and he stayed there for 25 years.
I think it was a big culture shock for me coming to Scotland having been born in India, but I was only a child. What made me realize that it must have been pretty traumatic was when I came back again, having spent eight years in Pakistan, when I was 30, and then I felt the culture shock consciously - that, what I must have experienced unconsciously as a ten-year old. I was married to a church of Scotland missionary, and went with him to Pakistan. I learned Urdu and Punjabi by using index cards. 300 sentences written on little cards with a bamboo quill. In one of my books that comes out this year, there's this poem called “Don't mention this to anyone”, which uses some of the Urdu model sentences we had to learn.

I consider myself Scottish, and I want independence for Scotland. I want it badly. Desperately. I remember being in the Poetry Library once and this man in a long black coat came in. It was a cold winter's night, and he walked around the library without saying anything. But then he came to my desk, slapped a book down on the table and said: “This is the best poet in Scotland.” And I said, “Oh, that's interesting, where are you from?”, and he replied “London”. And that's just typical! I mean, I was so furious, I was livid, but I just smiled and said: “Thanks for coming from London to tell me who the best poet in Scotland is.”

After writing all afternoon I look at the news and have supper. I don't eat much meat. If the children are coming, I might get some to make a stew, but not for myself. I make things like macaroni cheese, risotto or fish pies - simple food. I used to cook for four children, so it had to be simple.

A person I would love to invite to dinner is Lynne Truss. She wrote this amazing book about Tennyson, “Tennyson's Gift”. I read it in hospital and it kept me alive. She's incredibly witty and funny. We'd have lots of laughs. So I would have her and Maggie Smith. She's got that bitter edge, and I like people like that. I don't like people who are too goody-goody.

If I'm not going out in the evening, I read and watch the telly and do my knitting. I decided to take up knitting again when I had the thyroid operation, because I had to rest, and with not being able to dash about, I thought it would be nice to do some knitting. So I knitted a big scarf. I asked my daughter, who's a midwife, what to knit next, and she said that they're always looking for little squares for the premature babies. So I'm knitting squares for premature babies now. It feels nice, I like doing it. I'm contributing to the future.

Tuesday, 12 June 2012

Day 6 - Land of the thousand lochs

When I wake up, my legs are covered (well, almost) in insect bites. There must be something living in the bed. Well, at least I managed to feed a few hungry creatures.
The guys arrive quite late, but as soon as start walking, we are back in yesterday's fast pace again. We pass a little church, and then walk along the shore of the loch, enjoying the splendid views over the crystal-clear lake.




Using tiny paths leading around some farm buildings, we come to the Frank Bruce Sculpture Trail outside of Kincraig. Frank Bruce, who died in 2009, was an artist and sculptor who used woodcarving as a way to express himself in a way that words did not offer him (he was dyslexic and left school at 13). The sculptures are very impressive and thought-provoking, and it's a pity we don't have the time to look around a bit more.
If you want, have a look at Frank Bruce's very inspiring biography:
“Essentially, the reason for the sculptures was to say that I’m still here. I am here and I’ve got something to say.”


Soon after we arrive at Feshiebridge, where one of the men decides to take a bath in the icy waters. He takes off his clothes, and jumps. I take up position on the old bridge and get some lovely pictures of him hurling himself from the rocks. Enjoy :)



Brave man...

After some trouble finding the right way (some signs and way marks mentioned in the guidebook no longer exist), we continue walking on broad forest tracks. There are several junctions, and as I seem to be the only one with a map/guidebook, I lead the group (fun).

We're having lunch at Drake's Bothy, where I also scale a lovely climbing tree (and notice that I'm a bit out of practice).

Now out of the forest, we walk through an open heather landscape, with birch trees and little muddy mini-lochs scattered all over the place. There are fantastic views over the Cairngorm mountains, the highest of which are still covered in snow.





After passing small Loch Gamhna, the track is plastered with puddles. The men have fun dropping heavy stones into the mud to have brown water splash over everyone and everything - including me :) It's getting even more hilarious when the people at the top of the group start building tree barriers for the rest of the walkers:


Mud-splattered, we arrive at the beautiful Loch an Eilean, where - after taking a wrong turn once again - we finally make it to the visitor centre (lovely ice-cream). From the shore of the loch we have a fantastic view over the loch and its island castle. No wonder this was voted "Britain's best picnic spot".




From the loch, we use some nice paths to get to Aviemore, passing another small Loch and the Rothiemurchus Estate, which offers a variety of activities, both on the water and on land. I wanted to do the Treezone activity there, but I was too late that day.



Soon, we arrive in Aviemore, and after having a quick drink in a pub, it's victory photo time - at the station opposite:

In the evening, the men put away their kilts and step into weird and wonderful costumes. There's a 3-course dinner at the hotel they're staying, and I'm invited along. It seems to be tradition for them to have this costume evening, and there are some really great disguises present. There's Darth Vader (who looks great sitting there texting on his phone - ever seen him do that before?!), a pink hippo (who wins the prize for best costume), a very serious looking Sherlock Holmes, and many, many more.
In the evening, when it's time to leave for the station, Darth Vader, a pirate, a clown and Elvis accompany me there - very much to the amusement of the passengers of an earlier train (before which the station manager actually announced "Elvis, please move away from the platform" via the speakers) and later, my own one.

Now, this has been it - my East Highland Way trip. It was full of surprises (who could have guessed I'd end up walking with twenty men in kilts?!), sunshine, rain and blisters. And it brought me about 600 photos. I might post a few more over the next couple of days, and I also plan to write something of a concluding text, with some tips and ideas for other people wanting to do the walk (i.e. the practicalities). Until then, have a look at the fantastic EHW website...