Giggleswick

How to describe music summercamp? It was a week filled with music classes, concerts and performances, eating together, drinking together and enjoying the company of friendly people who share the same interests.

We were 170 people of all ages between 16 and 92, although the average age was probably above 50. This was one reason for me to sign up - this wouldn't be a knocking shop, and people would be quite relaxed about musical skills. I could just relax and not worry about singing or playing poorly, or impressing boys. The musical focus was on folk music, jazz music, and a little bit of classical music as well. The tutors were high-caliber professional musicians, most of them also teaching music at university.

Most people were staying in the school which was more like a small village. I had a little room to myself under the roof with a sink and a mirror, and a shared bathroom in the hall. Food was excellent, and it was served to a strict schedule in a dining hall. I sat with different people for each meal, and everyone was friendly.

I was probably most nervous about my jazz voice class. This was about performing jazz songs solo in front of people. We did a couple of songs together, and each student had also prepared a song to rehearse and then perform at a student concert. We sang the first song together, Have You Met Ms. Jones, and then each of us sang 8 bars on their own. Once that was out of the way and I felt that I was doing ok, I relaxed a bit and started to enjoy the class.

My Ukulele class turned out to be a bit too slow-paced for my taste. I did learn new things, but too few of them, and too slowly. I dropped it and took up Dixieland instead. Dixieland was great. We had a tuba, banjos, clarinets, saxophones, trumpets, guitar, and a tutor who had a huge smile on his face, handed out the music, and wasn't precious about the outcome. He made everyone play an improvised solo - and then everyone at the same time. The outcome was loud and fun and chaotic, and much more musical than expected. The tutor told me later in the bar that he had never taught adults before - he was filling in for someone else on short notice.

And finally, my First Steps In Improvisation class was very surreal, hugely entertaining and impossible to describe.

I ended up playing my trumpet much more than expected - after seven years of not playing it at all. It all came back quickly, and I remembered that I once quite liked it.

There were student concerts at night after dinner, and there was a bar and cheap drinking. People were playing their instruments everywhere, rehearsing for one of the many performances, or just jamming. I joined a bunch of recorder players for a session of recorder playing. On my birthday, I joined a jam session with my trumpet. I sang a jazz song to an audience of maybe fifty people, accompanied by piano. At the dance after the gala dinner I danced a quickstep with the only man at the camp who could ballroom dance, 92-year-old Norman. And for the last day, I rejoined the ukulele class to perform with them in the big final all-day student concert. At the ceilidh at night, I showed the mostly English crowd how they dance in Scotland.

It was indeed all very lovely.

School grounds - I stayed in the house on the left

A Giggleswick house

Gala dinner

Late night drinking with boys from Ipswich and Doncaster

Another party at the beach

I was invited to an 'informal gathering at the beach'.

A dump by day, a romantic hidden beach by night

Dancing on the beach

We were at my friend J's flat in Leith for some blues dance practice but then all went to a beach hidden behind an industrial estate nearby. J brought a battery powered amplifier for music, and we danced on the beach under a full moon and the late sunset. We had wine and threw pistachio shells into a fire made from driftwood and some smelly, chemically treated planks.

My blues-curious friend A who I had brought was delighted this was happening and so was I. She now thinks I'm the coolest person ever. And when we ran out of steam we just sat around the fire, chatting, each of the girls cuddling up with a boy in a blanket.

New year, new challenges

Happy new year everyone! I spent my Hogmanay the Scottish way - in a bothy with a fire, Scots in kilts, dancing, singing Auld Lang Syne, and a long new year's day walk in the snow.

My 30 Days, 30 Cards challenge was a great failure. I wrote not thirty, not twenty, not ten, not five, no, not one single Christmas card last Christmas! I did write a little thank you note to my Ukulele teacher though, so maybe that counts. I'm saving the cards for next year for another try.

But moving on, tomorrow starts the Kinder Scotland challenge (*click*), where I'm trying to do a random act of kindness every day for three weeks. The challenge is that they all have to be different. Apparantly, the first ten are easy, but then it takes creativity to come up with new acts. Wish me luck.

Sweden adventures #10

Friday - leaving Herrang.

I get up at half five and pack up my tent. Ali's still up and comes over to say goodbye again. Lovely guy.

Of course I'm at the bus stop twenty minutes early. I have two apples for breakfast and then it's two buses, the subway, a train, a bus, a ferry, a walk, another ferry, and I'm on my island, Grötö, porridge island. The toilet on the train was the nicest bathroom I've seen in a week. Now to find the hotel. It shouldn't be too hard, there is only one on this island.

I find it, I'm the first to check into my cabin which I'm sharing with friends I know from when I lived in the States. Turns out later that they would have been here already had they not boarded the wrong ferry and as a result ended up spending three hours on boats... I put out my tent to dry and start working on my speech. The speech will reveal the truth about how the happy couple met.

It was spring 2011. I lived in a flat in Princeton with Parween and Sally. Sally lived in the attic, illegally. It was Saturday night and I was going to go to the Princeton University Spring Formal, a party where everyone dresses up nicely. I was going with a Princeton graduate student - my toy boy at the time - and Sally joined us.

When we got there, we first went to a pre-party - the purpose of which was to get drunk quickly and avoid the formal part of the evening, the ballroom dancing. Arriving at the pre-party, Sally pointed out to me that there were only couples, and I looked around and it was true. Apart from that one guy. I said "I think the guy in the top hat over there is single." And the rest is history. I don't remember many details from the party. Sally and the guy in the top hat got drunk, he came home with us, left thirteen hours later, and now they are getting married.

Sweden adventures #9

Thursday at Herrang.

I get up at noon and pick up my laundry. Today is not a good day for drying clothes. I miss breakfast again, so go and have lunch and end up chatting for hours. I have a good meditation session by the lake. I try and get my tent organised for my early departure tomorrow morning.

I run into Jack and Carolin, his German housemate in Herrang, have a chat and then buy bus tickets for my travels, so I won't have to worry about that tomorrow morning.

I run into Ali who has turned out to be my favourite person at camp this year, we have a coffee in the bar. Ali has recently started to play the trombone. He has even brought it along to Herrang. One day here, he decided to practise, so he took his trombone and cycled into the fields for some privacy and to not to disturb anyone. He played for a bit when suddenly three moose appeared out of nowhere - a male with big antlers and two females. I wonder if the trombone playing attracted or offended them.

I stay for the daily meeting but then say goodbye to Ali and go to bed. I'm giving today's party a miss. I don't want to feel terrible tomorrow when I cross Sweden on public transport and meet old friends in the evening.

Sweden adventures #8

Wednesday at Herrang.

I get up early and have breakfast in Heaven's Kitchen, the camp restaurant. Today, there are no morning classes so people have a lie-in and the breakfast room is empty.

I chat with a Swiss guy and then walk over to the lake for meditation practice. Meditation practice gets thwarted by a group of dressed up people clearly aiming for the float in the lake, but too many of them to fit into the one boat left on the shore. They somehow manage. Later, I find out that two of them just got married and are one of two couples this week at Herrang who are spending their honeymoon here.

I make a mask at the mask-making workshop. The theme of tonight's party is masquerade and dressing up is mandatory. My Swiss army knife is very popular at the workshop so I leave it when I'm done.

I get my dancing shoes and get a backie on someone's bike to the blues class. Blues class is fun, and I consider taking a private lesson with the teachers, but then they are too busy and I'm not actually sure what I want to learn. I'm loving the blues class though. It's a beginner's class, and I've been dancing blues for many years. I feel like Monica in the show 'Friends' must have felt when she took a beginners' cooking class even though she was a professional chef. She just really liked being top of the class and getting loads of praise from the teacher.

I'm trying to fulfil today's mission to make it a productive day: Find stamps. The Lindy Hop Shop is closed so I suspend my mission and get a coffee in Bar Bedlam instead. When I try again they are open but don't have stamps. However, I'm right in time for the Herrang Week 5 Group Picture.

I then go to Kuggen, the village store, for stamps and offend the cashier when I say that all the Swedish coins look the same (they really don't). It actually is a productive day: I drop off laundry - my hand washing with regular hand soap wasn't that successful. I also charge my phone.

I take a long nap and go to the daily meeting, then change and dance a bit with a mask on - masquerade night. I go to the blues music jam session, drink wine, have a few more drunken lindy dances and go back to my tent, but on the way stop for a shisha with people I know, and it's half five and proper daylight when I finally go to bed.

Sweden adventures #7

Tuesday at Herrang.

I get up at noon, have breakfast at the Ice Cream Parlour - yoghurt and banana - and hang out here for many hours. I seem to be hosting a salon with various people passing through, staying for a while and then moving on. We discuss the Swing Patrol empire in London, which seems to push other swing dance providers out of the market. We have a Swedish language lesson, and a pop-up shoe repair workshop. At five, I practice some balboa and then have dinner in Bar Bedlam.

I attend the daily meeting and go back to the tent for a nap but don't properly wake up until half three at night. Now I can't be bothered getting up and being all sleepy - even though it would have worked with tonight's theme of the party - Slow Drag.

Sweden adventures #6

Monday in Herrang.


I get up at ten, take a shower and do some laundry in one of the outdoor sinks of the school building, which is at the centre of most accommodation and daytime dancing. I chat with someone who is getting ready for classes, brushing his teeth next to me. I danced with him only a few hours ago.


When I'm done with my laundry it's too late for getting any breakfast around here so I get lunch instead. At the cafe, I chat with a guy about meditation. He plays me some of his own music on his guitar in a back room, and I don't know where to look. It's not that it's bad, but he's so earnest, the situation a bit intimate, and I don't really know what facial expression would be appropriate. He offers to meditate with me but I politely (hopefully) decline and take a nap instead. Later, I see him meditate with someone else on the grass.


I get a coffee and hang out by the Ice Cream Parlour. I meet new people here, and catch up with some I have met earlier. I spend hours here doing nothing much but holding court on the comfy chairs with my company, conversation, and activities continuously changing.


In the evening, I watch the daily meeting in the library, then I join the cinephiles in the red camper cinemateque, the local cinema in a campervan, to watch an old movie. I have a tin of matjes (pickled herring) and some cashews for dinner and get ready for the dance. My friend Jack from Edinburgh was supposed to arrive today, but I haven't yet seen him. I need to find out where tonight's secret blues party is. The laundry?


Turns out there is no blues tonight, but I find Jack and have a drink with him and a staff member from Brazil, who's giving us all the camp gossip. I'm dancing a bit more, but the bebop swing theme doesn't agree with me - the live band is great but doesn't exactly inspire me to dance. I have an early night at half three.

Sweden adventures #5

Sunday.

I see someone distributing posters with information on "secret" blues parties - perfect! Also, tonight's theme is New Orleans Jazz - my favourite music, and great for balboa dancing too.

I'm slowly starting to enjoy the lack of structure to my days. Thanks to earplugs I don't sleep terribly, and when I get up, most people are in their classes and I don't need to queue for a shower. Once covered in insect repellent and sitting with a nice coffee somewhere in the shade, I'm content.

There's nothing to fill my day. If I get too hot I could take a dip in the sea anytime. I read, or nap, or wander the grounds and watch one of the many dance classes, looking out for opportunities to socialise, but happy to just contemplate life on my own.

I walk to the lake and sit there for a while - a beautiful spot.

I browse the Lindy Hop Shop and find a dress that fits, but I can't be quite bothered. I take a nap. I make a cup of coffee - black - and sit down outside the Ice Cream Parlour. Things have changed. Everyone is playing with their smart phones. I don't remember this from four years ago, but maybe that's because then it was me who was distracted by her smart phone. The camp even bans electronic devices from many common areas to encourage a spirit of connecting people. The ban is not working.

Are people afraid of sitting down on their own and feeling socially awkward with nothing to busy their hands with? A lot of people here have come on their own. Herrang is expensive, and when one person can afford to go, their friends may not, or they may have other priorities. I find small talk with strangers exhausting most of the time. But the conditions here are ideal. People here are friendly, we all have the dancing in common, and the camp is quite successful at creating an atmosphere of a happy world where everyone is friends with each other. This is as easy as it gets.

I get a lot of chat later.

I have dinner at Heaven's Kitchen, which is quite expensive, but at least I can eat as many vegetables as I like. After almost three days of snacking, I crave some greens. And chicken. No bread though. I'm thinking of quitting bread for a while.

I watch the daily meeting in the library today, which is more comfortable and less crowded than the ballroom. Afterwards, I take a taster class in ska dancing which is great fun, and for the first time since arriving in Herrang I feel part of the camp.

I freshen up and join the party. In the library, tonight's theme is New Orleans, which is my favourite style of jazz music for dancing, and maybe listening too. It's such a happy music. The room is nicely decorated too. After a slow start I spot a few balboa dancers and we are all relieved to have found each other and can stop doing this lindy nonsense. But alas, the standard is so low!

A few dances remind me of my early balboa days - only that now it's bad leading and not bad following that's the problem. There is one good dancer, but he looks like he is having the worst time throughout our dance. I'd rather dance with a clothes horse than with that person again. Then, there is this guy who almost rips my arm out.

I have one nice dance with a German guy before leaving to check out the secret blues party in the Russian Kitchen, a disgusting self-catering kitchen for the campers. All I can face doing here is boiling water, using my own mug for tea. I spend most of the night here and have some lovely blues dances and chats. I have some of my box wine, which is improving my blues dancing.

To finish the night I walk over to the ballroom. It's daylight already, roughly 4 am. I have some great dances with someone who promises me to dance lindy in the style of balboa - and it works! Or maybe it's the box wine working its magic.

Sweden adventures #4

Saturday.

It's change-over day in Herrang. Most people are leaving today, and new people are arriving to take part in week five. It is hot, and I walk to the beach for a bit. There are only a few people here, and it's nice and quiet compared to the camp area.

I walk back to the camp, hang out in front of the Ice Cream Parlour, and make new friends. Exhausted from this, I go back to my tent, read, take a nap, and start getting ready for the evening.

Some heavy showers are passing through. I check my tent but it's holding up ok. My new fancy mat is quite large, and it will be difficult to orient it in the tent so that neither head nor feet will touch the tent skin.

Every night at Herrang, there is a daily meeting. This is part entertainment with dancing and singing performances, part education with historic film clips from old dance movies and interviews and discussions with some of the original dancers from that time who get invited to Herrang every year, and part administrative announcements. People start queueing for this meeting half an hour before it starts so they'll get good seats. Not everyone fits into the ballroom where it is shown, so it gets live broadcasted to other areas: the bar, the dance barn, and the library.

I see someone at the meeting I met four years ago, and haven't seen since. Florian and I have a mutual acquaintance in Berlin, so I have heard of him occasionally. In fact, this was him: *click*.

After the daily meeting, I go back to my tent, have some snacks and put on some make up to make up for not putting any effort into what I'm wearing. I slept in these clothes last night.

At the dance, I am very pleased to find a dance floor where they are playing blues music. However, the main event certainly is lindy hop. I stopped taking lindy classes years ago when I became more interested in balboa and blues. I'd describe my lindy as solid and uninspired, my blues as awkward and variable, and my balboa as carefree and relaxed.

I'm quite awake at 2 am in the morning, not having done anything all day. I'm on the look-out for other balboa dancers but the music isn't really suitable for balboa anyway. I leave at 3.30 am, it's already getting light outside.

Sweden adventures #3

At Herräng dance camp. Friday late afternoon.

I have successfully negotiated my bus-plane-train-bus-bus trip. Everything worked out perfectly, and it looks like I get to pitch my tent in bright sunshine. I even succeeded in getting some cash - not enough, but some. Herräng is a tiny village, the next cash machine is seven miles away.

I bought some groceries in the next town earlier today before boarding the final bus. And a box of wine. There's only one small grocery store in this village, and it has been known for its empty shelves.

When my bus arrived in Herrang I just followed a French couple with big packs. They looked like dancers and seemed to know where they were going. Four years is a long time, but eventually my memory of the place has come back to me.

I pitch my tent after finding an ok spot. All spots in the central area will be super noisy, so I pick one which is not in the sun all day. I chat a bit with my tent neighbour, but that's it for social interactions today. I go to bed for a nap and fall properly asleep, and when I wake up it's 1 AM - perfect dance time in Herrang, but I just can't be bothered.

Sweden adventures #1

Here comes the first part of my travel notes from my recent holiday in Sweden.

I'm embarking on a very similar - if more compressed - trip as I did four years ago. Then, I travelled from Glasgow to Stockholm, spending a few nights there (*click*) before I went to the famous Herräng dance camp (*click*), and then on to Grötö, Porridge Island, a tiny island off the coast near Gothenburg. My friend Leo's family has a summer house there, where I visited him and my other friend and former flatmate Sally, who had been on holiday there. And this is where the two of them are getting married in a few days.

Then, I was on an eight months long trip around the world. I had a lot of time on my hands. Now, I feel like I'm abandoning my boss at work during the busiest time of the year. So I'm only taking nine days off, two and a half of which I'm going to spend on crossing Sweden to get to my multiple destinations quickly - using public transport.

What else has changed since 2012?

• I have a new boyfriend
• I have no acne anymore
• I have some grey hair and lines
• I have a home and a job
• I'm much happier with my dancing skills, but less keen to use them

Swedish holidays

I was away in Sweden for a while at a dance camp and a wedding, and I will report in detail soon. And I missed Scotland! When coming home late at night my plane landed in pouring rain, and the rain also poured into the buses that were waiting to take us to the terminal. Lovely. I was cold and tired, I missed the last local bus and took a taxi home. Halfway there, I realised that it was just after midnight and that it was my birthday. Having no one else to tell I told the driver. He said happy birthday and said he was a leo too. That was sweet and a little pathetic too.

So, here's to everyone who thought of me (without the help of Facebook!): well done and thank you, especially for cards and messages! And to everyone else: try again next year! (I probably forgot yours as well...)

Anniversary

Three years ago last Saturday I moved to Edinburgh!

To celebrate the occasion I went out to GrownUps, a "disco for old people" as my friend described it. "But in a good way"... The theme was punk rock and I was having a great time, dancing and jumping to high energy music. Appropriately, I got soaked with beer by two of my over-enthusiastic friends. And since old people go to bed early, the night finished timely at 1 AM. Perfect!

The next day I bought some wine and was asked for my ID! I didn't think that would still happen in my mid-thirties, and I was thoroughly pleased. But then I wondered that after a night of partying I may have looked young and rough, rather than old and well-preserved. Oh well, I'll take it.

A Sample of the North

I spent a lovely weekend dancing in a mansion in Durhamshire. Accommodation options were limited and it had taken me a couple of afternoons to find a B&B in the next village, just under 2 km away on back roads. To me, this was actually a win-win situation, getting a dancing holiday and a walking holiday in one weekend.

The area was lovely too, and the people as friendly as their reputation. When I tried to explain to the bus driver in Newcastle where we needed to get off he didn't understand me, but another passenger did and got off the bus one stop early just to make sure we got to our B&B ok.

At the B&B we met the nicest hosts ever, and when I told them that it would be just me and my friend instead of the three people I had booked for, they reduced the price for us considerably. They also offered to give us a lift to the mansion if needed.

But I was happy to walk, and my friend couldn't find good arguments for a taxi. It wasn't raining. But we didn't make it far on the back roads to the mansion when a Mini Cooper stopped next to us and a couple of fellow dancers offered us a lift. This happened a few more times that weekend, and only once did I get to walk back, one starry night at 4 am in the morning.

Random bits and pieces

Here comes an update of the things I have been up to.

Weekend review
I spend most weekends either dancing, walking or doing nothing much apart from catching up with friends, chilling, and being domestic. Last weekend was different though - a weekend filled with cultural highlights.

The National Museum opened its doors on Friday night for a theme party, the Victorian Sensation, which is also the title of their current exhibition on the invention of photography. Fittingly, the dress code was black and white. I dug out my little black dress from a corner of my wardrobe. I had bought it years ago for a sweet date with a French guy in Montreal. I couldn't find anything white though that didn't look very silly, including my flatmate's white underskirt/slip.

The unofficial theme of the party seemed to be Queues, as you had to queue for the bar, for the Gin tasting, for the Silent Disco, for the photography exhibition, for the photo booth, for the place where you get a temporary finger tattoo of a moustache... Was the moustache-thing for Robert Louis Stevenson day I wonder? A propos, I'm sure my non-German readers will be pleased to learn that the German word for moustache translates to "purr-beard".

Anyway, it was good fun, but mainly because of my fun company and the silly photographs we took.

I also went to see George Bizet's opera Carmen which was excellent. To this I went on my own which might seem sad but was actually quite nice. And I was able to get a decent seat on short notice. Also, there is little overlap of friends who are interested in opera and friends who can afford it...

On Sunday I went bowling - not quite as cultured as opera and museums, but I did learn about bumpers. They can put up bumpers along the lane so the balls don't roll into the gutter! Well, to me that's cheating and misses the point of the game, but when we had them removed for the second game, my balls ended up in the gutter half of the time. Oops.

And finally, my bowling date walked me to the last cultural highlight of the weekend, the always so classy jam session at Whigham's weekly jazz club. Last time I went with my friend Leila, and a stranger bought us wine and had it delivered to us anonymously! This time I just enjoyed the opening set of the Glasgow band Rose Room, which were excellent and danceable. And sure enough, the room was packed, and lots of swing dancers showed up, some of them good friends I hadn't seen in a while.

Job news
In other news, my boss cracked a rib playing football. Drugged with strong pain killers he put me in charge, lets me take all the decisions, and said he'd back me up. I think that was a big mistake. My first executive decision was to cancel a big meeting next week. My next decisions will be to drastically overhaul our website, change my working hours and location, and introduce free coffee and scones for my team (which is only me now). All this new power is intoxicating! In his absence I'm now also getting involved in some more political stuff. I'll report on the damage I've done.

Spaced-out Susan, Nat with creepy baby, me: bored

Nat about to drop creepy baby, Susan watching, me: party

Friends and Weddings

A lovely wedding last weekend. It had everything: Lovely food and excellent service, witches and magic mirrors, ties tied around heads, obscene drawings, serious hangovers, bad dancing, and best of all: Almost all my uni friends in one place!

Has anyone taken photos? I feel like I remember cameras. And can we please do this again soon? Another wedding anyone?

Challenges

It's only early February, and I am already embarking on a number of challenges for 2015.

I started a barbershop quartet last week, and the first rehearsal went surprisingly well, even though none of us had done anything like it before. Mind you, my bass wanted a voice recording of his part instead of the piano recording I had made at home over Christmas, to put words and music together. As I couldn't find any recording software on my computer, for a while I was contemplating to just call him and leave it as a voice message. But then I ran into my friend Ronnie on the bus, and his pal Mike suggested Audacity, which is a free recording and mixing software. So home I went and did a quick and dirty recording of the bass part, one octave higher of course. Singing on my own in front of people was challenge number one. To be fair, doing karaoke the other week had helped to lose some inhibition.

Tap dance is boring

Not this one though:


Just watch the first 2 min and that should get you hooked. And that's even before the band starts playing.