Tag Archives: walking

New Lanark, the egg, and the naming of things

April 2, 2013 By in Bruce, Bruce, landscape, Scotland, wallpaper Tags: , , , , , , , 59 Comments

hiya

Hiya! It is I, Bruce. Today I am here to tell you about the place called New Lanark.

newlanark

Tom and Kate have been to this place many times, and are fond of it for many reasons. Kate particularly likes New Lanark because
1) it is the birthplace of Utopian Socialism and
2) it makes yarn.

yarn

As well as being an important World Heritage Site, New Lanark is a place where you can enjoy the spectacular scenery of the Falls of Clyde.

fallsofclyde

This was definitely the bit that interested me.

followme

Up along the river banks and woods, there is much fun walking to be had. I smelt many interesting smells and went for a swim . . .

retrieval

. . .I looked after the humans, hurrying them along the paths, and posing obligingly for photographs.

wazznbruce

. . . I also heard some sounds that were new to me. For example, these icicles on the opposite bank made an interesting crrrrrrack and crrrrrash sound as they broke and fell into the river.

icicles

Then we came to a place called The Hide.

hide

There was much excitement around The Hide because The Egg had just appeared in the nest of a Peregrine. The humans at The Hide had equipment through which Tom and Kate could look and see the Peregrine sitting on The Egg. Kate seemed quite interested in The Egg, but was perhaps even more animated by the colour of the Peregrine’s eyelids, which were apparently a very very very bright yellow. I was not allowed to look through the equipment, but I was very good on my lead and did not snaffle any of the Hide humans’ tasty meat-filled sandwiches while they were being distracted by the excitement of The Egg.

confusion

Now, I know and understand many human words — egg and chicken, for example, are two words that make a lot of sense to me. But two words that do not make sense are the words called Monkey Walking, which is what the humans shout at me with glee when I do this on a path with gaps in it:

monkeywalking

The naming of things is perhaps the deepest of all human mysteries. For example, why is this crunchy, tasteless, pointless thing called Lichen when there is nothing to like about it at all?

lichen

Why is this piece of Scottish hydroelectrical equipment called YORKSHIRE?

yorkshire

Who named this bench BROWN LONG EARED BAT?

brownlongearedbat

And which daft human decided that this fence should be called DONKEY?

donkey

Answers on a postcard, please . . .

seeya

See you soon, Love Bruce

Kate adds: A shout-out to Laura, the New Lanark ranger, who reads this blog and who we met on our walk today. Thanks so much to Laura and all her colleagues for their hard work maintaining this wonderful landscape for everyone to walk in and enjoy! xx

the highlands and the hunky bunk

February 27, 2013 By in Bruce, Camping, landscape, Scotland, walking Tags: , , , , , , , 72 Comments

greetings

Hiya! It is I, Bruce. Today I am pleased, because, after a long break for the Winter, the walking and camping times have begun again! This particular walking and camping time was a surprise, because the weather is good, and Tom has not yet begun New Job. We packed up the van, and set off for West Highlands, a place in which Tom and Kate always seem very happy.

highlandwazz

In West Highlands there is excellent walking to be had, and many interesting smells that I do not smell in other places. These smells are because of the big deer buddies, with whom I am not allowed to play. Indeed, an interesting feature of West Highlands is the prevalence of fences and gates, which are there to keep the buddies IN and me OUT. As you can see, however, the buddies sometimes get OUT . . .

stag

. . . and (with human assistance) I can get IN.

closethegate

These gates are mystifying machines. Try as I might, I cannot operate them.

The best thing about West Highlands is that we go for lovely long walks. This time we walked up hills and through woods. . .

walkingbuddies

and then we walked along the side of the water. All of this was fun.

water

Afterwards, we went to camp in the place that is called Bridge of Orchy.

Boo

The place is called Bridge of Orchy because of this:

bridge

The Bridge. Of Orchy.

At Bridge of Orchy it became very cold. I am often told that I have a nice thick coat, but although this is true, I do not have extra woolly clothes and fluffy bags to keep me warm in Extreme Highland Conditions. The humans have these things, and though they were cold, they were not as cold as I. Then a very exciting thing happened. Because I was cold, I was allowed to get on the hunky bunk with the humans for the first time ever! It was cold on the floor, but it was warm on the hunky bunk with three of us, and so we all slept there together! This was very good. All I can say is, now I know just how good it is on the hunky bunk, I shall definitely expect to sleep there at all times. I shall ignore all human mutterings of “this is not a precedent” and suchlike — YES! ITS THE HUNKY BUNK FOR ME!!

In the morning, there was ice all over the van, and the water had frozen in the pipes. And then we discovered that the van had run out of cooking gas. Kate was extremely worried that she would not be able to have her requisite Giant Cup of Tea, but disaster was averted by Tom, who is the keeper of all equipment, and who had the forethought to bring the spare camping stove.

disasteraverted

Giant cups of tea were drunk, I snaffled half a hot cross bun, and everyone was happy.

highlandbruce

See you soon, love Bruce xxx

Wester

April 9, 2012 By in Camping, landscape, photography, Scotland, walking, wildflowers Tags: , , , , , , , , , 62 Comments

We spent the weekend up in Wester Ross. This is a truly beautiful part of the world.

And despite it being a holiday weekend, it was also incredibly quiet. For two days, we had this glorious landscape pretty much to ourselves.

One of the many lovely things about this area of Scotland is its native woodland. The trees here are many hundreds of years old, and were once part of the ancient Caledonian forest. Visitors to Scotland often think that dense plantations of sitka spruce and lodgepole pine are what makes up the “Scottish” forest but this is not the case. In fact, such plantations are of relatively recent appearance, many being the result of a Thatcherite loophole, which, a few decades ago, allowed the wealthy to shelter capital from taxation by investing it in forestry. Large swathes of the West Highlands, Sutherland and Caithness were covered with densely-planted non-native species so that Terry Wogan could continue to line his pockets.

To get a true flavour of the old Caledonian forest – less than 1% of which survives – then you need to go somewhere like Beinn Eighe, where the native woodland has been protected since 1951.

Scots pines are the ecological backbone of a woodland environment that supports many important species: capercaillies, pine martens, red squirrels, Scottish crossbills.

Some ancient pines remain short, hugging the hillside, while others grow tall and majestic. Together they lend the landscape great variety and drama.

. . .perhaps particularly on a murky, misty day. . .



. . . and these trees are just as impressive at close quarters.

I remember, on childhood holidays, how much I enjoyed collecting pebbles. The best pebbles were always wet – found in rock pools or at the waterline. When I brought my treasures home, I was often disappointed in how their bright colours faded to grey as they became dry, so I took to storing them in a bucket of water, in order to admire them as I’d found them. Many people, I imagine, don’t like being out and about in the rain, the mist, and the wet. But to my mind, they are missing something – water lends a clarity to objects that is really pretty amazing.





And a wet walk is just fine, if you have a cosy van to dry out in , some tasty fare, and a delicious glass of cherry perry to enjoy afterwards.

Thanks for the perry, Jen! Slainte!

steamies

March 6, 2012 By in Edinburgh, walking Tags: , , , , , , , 106 Comments


(Edinburgh women negotiate the gradients of the old town, bringing home their washing from the steamie)

As I walk about Edinburgh, I often find myself thinking about residents and visitors of the past, moving about the city. A while ago, such thoughts gave rise to the Jane Gaugain walk I wrote for Twist Collective. These days, pottering about my locale, I find that my path often crosses with those taken by the Newhaven fishwives, on their way to town to sell their wares; in Leith, I think about Betty Mouat, and, at the East end of Princes Street, Anna Laetitia Barbauld always springs to mind. Today I managed a good long walk and found myself thinking about the distances women must have have traveled on foot, pushing prams, trolleys, and make-shift carts, to get their washing to and from the steamie.

The cleaning and drying of clothes was a massive problem for those living in nineteenth-century Scottish tenements, many of which did not have a clean running water supply or access to a drying green. By the late 1800s, Edinburgh and Glasgow followed the example of London and Liverpool, and introduced public wash-houses, known North of the Border as steamies. Often attached to swimming baths, and publicly managed by the council, steamies were used by women all over Scotland’s cities.

Several of my neighbours have told me about how they used to frequent the Bonnington Road steamie.


(women at the Bonnington steamie, 1973)

There was a steamie in Stockbridge (attached to what is now Glenogle Swimming Pool), another in Portobello, and according to this 1960s timetable, seven further Edinburgh steamies – making a total of ten city-wide.

During the 60s and 70s, the rise of the domestic washing machine and the advent of the commercial laundrette spelt the end of the communal, publicly-run, steamie.


(Portobello women sign a petition, protesting against the closure of their steamie)

But, in new automated form, the council-managed steamies seem to have lingered on in Edinburgh until the early 80s.


(women protest in 1981 against the closure of the steamies: “Don’t let the Tories make the steamies redundant too!”)

Though I’m sure most of us relish the convenience of the domestic washing machine, communal steamies played an important role in the lives of many women in Edinburgh and Glasgow (for example, see the comments of these women, recorded in 1971, about the closure of a steamie in Edinburgh – does anyone know which one it is?). Following their demise, steamies quickly became the focus of an affectionate nostalgia that’s best exemplified by Tony Roper’s immensely popular play The Steamie (the 1988 TV production is available in full here on the STV player).

Did any of you use one of the steamies in Edinburgh or Glasgow? Did equivalent public laundry / wash-house facilities exist in US cities?

A walk at Roslin Glen

February 26, 2012 By in Edinburgh, grafitti, walking Tags: , , , , , , 36 Comments

Tom is beginning to feel better, so we took a leisurely stroll around Roslin Glen earlier today. Yes, this is the same Roslin (or Rosslyn) that is home to the chapel. Dogs and visitor centres do not mix well, so we didn’t take in the interior, but if you are in the area then I heartily recommend a visit – it is just as staggering as you might imagine. (You can have a peek at a few of the most famous carvings here).

It was a chilly and dull-ish sort of a day, but there were still some welcome signs of Spring. . .

. . . and the woods were full of the scent of wild garlic.

We found ancient walls

sporting modern graffiti

Bruce enjoyed a splash in the Esk.



But he was not over-keen on my new hidey-hole.

We are both glad that Tom is improving. An actual, solid meal for him tonight!

breezy

December 25, 2011 By in knitting, walking Tags: , , , , , 44 Comments

Hello everyone – hope you are all having a lovely day, however you are spending it. We’ve just been out for a very windy walk. Let me tell you, there is a very good reason that those nineteenth century women mountaineers abandoned their skirts at the foot of the hill — the damn things act like a bloody sail when the wind picks up.

Ascending was pretty difficult in this get-up, and Tom had his own problems . . .

The weather really is quite bizarre: the past two years, we have had crisp, white Christmases, but today it is weirdly mild, incredibly windy, and strangely brooding. There was no-one to disturb us up on North Berwick Law.

Tom is wearing his new Christmas sweater. He picked out the wool himself to match his kilt. It is Alice Starmore Bainin in the ‘Cairngorm’ colourway – a very pleasing shade of blue. Tom also more or less designed the sweater (based on one he already had) and I then knit it – more or less to his specifications. It is a high-necked raglan, plain and very simple.

Looks good with that blue-y green tartan, though. (It is the Macdonald of the Isles ‘ancient’ tartan, for those of you who are interested)

Tom’s Christmas sweater is ravelled here.

Right, a feast beckons. I’m off to the kitchen. See you later!

Madeiran inspiration

November 18, 2011 By in art, design, Kate Davies, textiles, walking Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 40 Comments

One of the many things I admire about Portuguese culture is the way that pattern and design are part of everyday life.

There are beautiful tiles everywhere. Most interiors are tiled, and almost every public space is enriched by a particular experience of the decorative.



Even Brutalism approaches the ornamental.


Wandering around Funchal – Madeira’s ‘capital’ – is a peculiarly graphic experience. By simply walking one is taking a sort of masterclass in pattern.

The narrative of one’s footsteps, of one’s movement through the street, is told out in tiles.

These distinctive mosaic pavements are everywhere in Funchal, from the town’s alleys . . .

. . . to its squares.

The patterned pavements seem to invite the pedestrian to the act of leisurely promenading, strolling, window-shopping.

The aesthetic is all pervasive – here is the entrance to a supermarket . . .

. . .and here is the exterior of a parking garage.

These pavement mosaics are made up of alternating pieces of basalt and limestone. Over the years, Funchal’s designers have clearly enjoyed playing with the high-contrast potential of these materials.

For someone pattern-obsessed like me, the streets of Funchal are exciting and inspiring spaces. For example, I love the way that these right angles . .

become diagonals

The particular design repeat used on this mosaic also appears in one of my Latvian weaving books, and another book I have about Estonian mitten patterns. Such cross-cultural aesthetic connections really intrigue me, and are one of the reasons that I am so looking forward to Rosa Pomar’s forthcoming book. Just pottering about the streets of Funchal made me reflect on the fundamental nature of the repeat and on how the same basic principles tend to govern the surface decoration of very different media (textiles, pavements etc). The OXO, for example is a ubiquitous feature of Spanish and Portuguese tiling, Baltic weaving, as well as Fair-Isle knitting patterns. I particularly liked this playful example.

Anyway, as you might imagine, the streets of Funchal have inspired me to produce a design of my own. I began work on it while we were in Madeira and finished knitting it last night. Here is a wee taster.

No, it is not a hat, but something altogether different. More photographs and a pattern this weekend!

breezy

September 25, 2011 By in beasties, Bruce, Edinburgh, Shetland, walking Tags: , , 17 Comments

A breezy day. Everything has that blown-out, blown-back look to it.




In the undergrowth, broom-pods rattle like crazy maracas.
And what’s that rustling beneath the willowherb and gorse?

:: I am already making the second mitten to form an actual pair. Hold still my beating heart – there will be a pattern.
:: My peppers are ripening nicely. Hurrah!
:: Have you seen this? I shall be there for the whole thing. Weaving! Sheep! Wool sorting and grading! How I excited am I?

friday

August 26, 2011 By in Edinburgh, food, textiles, walking Tags: , , 38 Comments


I’ve been out for a nice long ramble with Bruce. It was raining.

As long as I have a) a good waterproof and b) non-leaky boots, I rather like walking in the rain. There is nobody around. The world looks different. Everything smells good.




Bruce got to splash about in all sorts of wet stuff with complete impunity.

Almost as good as a long walk in the rain is coming in and drying off from a long walk in the rain . . . with a giant cup of tea . . .


. . .and a scone (bizarrely, my biscuit disaster seems to have kindled a baking phase).

Have a nice weekend, everyone!

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