Reindeer and Ptarmigans

I discussed my recent breakup with Kat and where to find eligible young men if not on the internet and how about fun group trips such as skiing holidays etc. That turned into talking about future trips which generally makes for more interesting conversation anyway. 

She once did a navigation course in the Cairngorms at Glenmore Lodge, an outdoor training centre near Aviemore. So just for fun I looked them up and saw that they had an Introduction to Scrambling course on this upcoming weekend. 

The weather forecast looked good so I signed up.

I came back with bruises and scratches all over from hugging the rocks while slowly sliding them down, but it was a brilliant weekend and below are a few pictures. I saw reindeers and ptarmigans!

Fiacall Ridge - we scrambled it up.

The gear: helmets and ropes - that's it.

Fiacall Ridge

A great day for views

Getting tready for Christmas.

Princess2

After the princess incident last week, today was another memorable cycling day. Most of my commute is on cycle paths, but there are a few short bits on the road. On one of those, a car turned in front of me, cut me off, and made me brake sharpish. Not great, but I think the driver realised how close it had been and will surely watch out for bikes next time. And I would have forgotten about the incident right away had not a taxi driver, who had witnessed everything, slowed down right next to me and asked me if I was alright. Awwww. Made my day.

Princess!

On my daily commute to and from work on the cycle paths, I usually have to navigate slow cyclists, dog walkers and their dogs, passive-aggressive pedestrians, angry mums, children, dog poo - which is all preferable to cycling in car traffic.

But occasionally, my timing is bad and I have to share the cycle path with high school children on their way home. Some ignore me, some make space, some jump in front of me or shout abuse after me. One boy once stuck a stick between my spokes - I don't think he meant to hurt me, he was just curious. Fortunately, the stick broke.

Today, I passed a group of adolescents who had made space for me, so I said thank you. And one of them said you're welcome. And then he shouted "Princess" after me!

The end (for real this time)

Five months after the first date we have now come full circle. My man and I are done, over and out.

What went wrong? Hard to say, many things. Liking each other and having similar values was not enough. Maybe our personalities and interests were too different, maybe our personal issues weren't compatible. I wasn't myself around him a lot of the time, and at first I thought that was just because we didn't know each other well yet, and I just went along with it, but then I got used to it and stopped noticing it. Not ideal.

I would prefer it if I knew exactly what went wrong and how to fix it, but I don't and he doesn't, so I'll go with that sometimes things just don't work out.

So I talked things through with friends and did a bit of wallowing, and strangely, now I'm fine. So, going forward, I need a new strategy. Here's the best plan I currently have: I'll buy a cottage in the highlands and get kittens!

Isle of Mull

The best part of my Mull trip was the walk around the Treshnish peninsula in the north of Mull (*click*). Beautiful, remote, varied. Not a hard walk, but long enough to make a day of it at a leisurely pace, especially since the weather allowed for many scenic breaks.

The place everyone recommended us to visit on the other hand, the island Iona, was underwhelming. Busloads of tourists come over to Mull from Oban on the mainland several times every day, only to be driven across the island, ferried from Fionnphort over to Iona, visit Iona Abbey, spend some money, and go back to Oban. We still found some nice spots there, but next time on Mull I'd rather visit the island Ulva, which seems touristically less exploited.

A few miles south of Fionnphort, a farm road leads to another island, Erraid. Erraid is a tidal island, which excited me a great deal because you can walk over at low tide on what looks like a beach, only that it has two coasts. And you might get stuck if you don't make it back in time. By the time we found the island, we could still walk over, but it had got too late for a proper exploration. Another one for my next Mull visit.

On the way to Oban, probably somewhere in the Trossachs

Tobermory on the Isle of Mull

Calgary beach in the north of Mull

Sculpture park in Calgary

Calgary Bay

Treshnish islands

Treshnish headland

View south from the Treshnish coast

Beach near Erraid, a tidal island

Mull-Oban ferry

Rose

Today, I'm writing about Rose.

I first encontered Rose when I saw her flat advertised on Airbnb, a vacation rental website. The flat looked beautiful in the pictures, nicely decorated, and situated on the main street in Tobermory on the Isle of Mull, overlooking Tobermory Bay. Rose lives there in principle, but was staying somehwere else on the island for a while.

My man and I booked it for four nights, and during our stay we learned a lot about Rose. Looking at the artwork in her flat, she must have spent some time in Africa where she worked as a photographer and journalist. There are paintings, photographs, pieces of furniture, rugs and blankets that seem to have a connection with that time. She reads The New Yorker magazine. She has impeccable taste in music and a wide-ranging selection of vinyls. We felt so classy, listening to Bach's cello suites on the record player while drinking whisky in front of a nice (if poorly lit) woodfire and looking out to the sea. I was glad I had brought along a 16 year old Lagavulin - anything less would have felt out of place in Rose's flat.

Rose is musical too. A mandolin is hanging on the wall, and there are folders of sheet music and songs. She also cuts her own wood for the burner. Her kitchen is connected to the living room so you can look out to the sea from the dining table. All the kitchen equipment is beautiful, unique and of high quality. I wanted to meet Rose.

And then, I did meet her when she dropped in to see if we were doing ok, and to change into dry clothes, since she'd spent the day sea kayaking. Seriously, how cool is she?! She was also super nice, and told me that she was staying with her mum's while she is studying. I wanted her to be my best friend.

The next morning a surfer type guy visited to see if Rose was about and to go out for breakfast with her. Who still does this sort of thing? I think it's lovely to have friends who do just show up spontaneously for a chat. It reminds me of the olden days before mobile phones. Actually, my parents still live like that, with friends spontaneously dropping by. Maybe that's just what life is like when you live in a small community. Or when you live in an area with poor mobile phone signal.

Rose seems to have it all, a life full of travel and adventure, reading, writing and music, and a beautiful, cosy flat near friends and family in one of the most scenic places in Scotland. I want to be Rose.

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 #2

At Edinburgh airport.

My pack is packed beautifully. I put a foam mat inside, around all my other stuff. This gives it a nice cylindrical shape without any bulges and dents, and it's also protecting my stuff. My pack is 12 kg. This makes me want to go on a long walk.

I haven't travelled with hold luggage in years - four years in fact. I'm not enjoying the queuing, I much prefer to travel light. But once I'm rid of my pack it is actually quite nice to zip through security without negotiating liquids and electronic devices.

An American talks to me. He's friendly but he looks like he isn't and could turn aggressive any minute. One of those faces.

My plane is full of Swedish hunks.

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

Good morning!

Swedish wedding

A cheerful and tearful occasion - weddings always make me cry, but Swedish ones are the worst! All those thoughtful and moving toasts from friends and family - many of whom I knew from my time in the States where I had introduced the bride to the groom. Seeing them again, getting married! Seeing a lot of old friends again! They are all such good people and I miss them a lot.

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...)

Probation passed

I am now a proper Civil Servant, unfireable, invincible, ready to change the world, undermine the system, tell certain people in my organisation what I think of them, and planning my next career break.

My end-of-probation review was a nice chat, very flattering, full of praise etc. Listening in to my boss and me during a very heated discussion only one hour later, you wouldn't believe a word from his favourable review report to HR.

In my job, it's normal to rotate posts every two or three years. In between posts I now see space for travel and projects. What should I do? Bolivia and Chile? Programming boot camp? A road trip in a Tesla car on autopilot across Canada? India??? Walk the Pacific Crest Trail?