ONCE UPON A DREAM; My Birthday in Pendle

Statue of Alice Nutter who was hanged as a witch in 1612

    

Although my birthday celebrations began last weekend with a trip to London for Phantom of the Opera, I spent my actual birthday much closer to home in the quiet historic village of Pendle, just across the Pennines in red rose country.  It was a perfect autumn day - crisp, sunny and golden, but mostly dry.  The village is small and just like Eyam in Yorkshire, the historical significance of the place is everywhere you look. 

Pendle is of course famous for its witch trials, when in 1612, twelve people were accused of murder by witchcraft and using the devils arts. Of course this is nonsense. It is very unlikely that any of these women were witches or murderers, but the menfolk of the time decided that they were and so that was that.  Ten people were found guilty, despite the fact that there was no evidence against them beyond spite, fear and hearsay. The women were marched across Pendle Hill, on foot across hill and dale, all the way to Lancaster Castle, where they were held in a dark dungeon below ground level. One died in prison, the others were hanged within three days of the verdict, according to the law of the time. 

As you wander around Pendle, you can see that this dark history has left its mark across the village.  The track leading up onto Pendle Hill is signposted with the silhouette of a witch on a broomstick and has been named The Witches Trail. It leads walkers along the exact same fateful path the accused women would have taken over four hundred years ago, so you can follow in their footsteps if you want to.  But who would want to? Just thinking of it gives me the chills!

The Witches Trail

The children's playground is guarded by a statue of a witch sat on a bench reading a spell book, her tall black pointed hat reminding the children who play there, that once upon a time, witches lived close by. Once upon a time, those witches were killed near by. Once upon a time, it wasn't safe for tempers to fly. Best be good then. Best be quiet. Best play nice. Know your place little girl. Remember what happens when you don't. 

Further down in the valley is the statue of Alice Nutter, pictured above.  She was one of the women accused of witchcraft, but unlike the rest, she came from a wealthy and privileged background. Her money wasn't enough to save her, however, and she was hanged along with the rest.  What I found interesting is that the local council had chosen Alice, out of all ten victims, to immortalize as a statue.  Although Alice is meant to commemorate all those who were executed during the Pendle Witch Trials, it made me quite cross that they had chosen the wealthiest one to single out.  All the others were poor and working class, so it seems as if they were not deemed worthy of immortalizing in statue form. They must remain the nameless, faceless members of the impoverished. This is a type of silent disparagement and dismissal, as if their suffering was somehow less brutal because they were poor, and therefore used to a hard life. It proves that classism is still a factor in modern society (the statue was unveiled in 2012) and very much holds sway in places of power such as the offices of local councils, where the impoverished are still oppressed. 

Wandering around the cemetery of Saint Mary's Church at Newchurch, I came across the grave of a Jacobite! This was such a wonderful surprise. I never expect to find evidence of Jacobites in England, but here one was, a man who had fought for Bonnie Prince Charlie in the 1700s and had escaped to find peace and safety in the heart of the Pennines. He had built a life in Pendle and his son and grandson were both laid to rest with him. I wonder if his descendants still live in the village?  I don't drink whiskey so I couldn't really toast him properly, but I had a bottle of water, so I offered a make-shift toasting of the water in honour of his courage and of our shared Jacobite sympathy and Scottish heritage.  I poured a libation at the foot of the grave stone and silently told him how sorry I am that his cause was lost.  I hope he liked the acknowledgment. 

The Jacobite's Grave

I spent quite a while in a little shop called Witches Galore.  This is an Aladdin's Cave of all things witchy and magical! It's a wonderful place and they sell everything from candles and incense to cauldrons, greenmen, chalices and pagan jewellery.  I did some serious damage in this shop! I came out with a pile of witchy books, a broomstick-witch pendant, a few postcards, tea-towels and coasters - all of a witchy theme.  It was a lovely birthday shopping spree! I was talking to the lady who owns the shop. She is lovely and she was telling me that Chanel 4 are due there next week to film a new program about the historic witches, so I'll have to look out for that on my TV. 

For all your witchy needs!

Pendle is a wonderful place. It is calm and peaceful. It can be difficult to imagine the horrors that took place here in the past, as now the area feels like a restorative retreat. It was the perfect antidote to the hustle and bustle of London a couple of days before! We drove back home through Haworth and Bronte country, which is a fabulous scenic route. I love to watch the fields fading out into wild moorland and heath.  It was pitch dark  by the time we got back and the weather was turning colder. We headed straight to our favourite little pub and had a delicious roast beef carvery and Bailies lattes to finish off the day. All in all, it was a wonderful outing and the perfect end to my four-day long birthday!  My Mum said she'd really enjoyed it too. 

My Pegasus birthday cake gifted from Brasserie of Light in London!

And now I'm looking forward to Yuletide!
 Blessed Be
Marie x

ONCE UPON A DREAM; A Phantom Birthday!

  

It is late evening and I have just arrived home after my birthday weekend trip to London. I went to see Phantom of the Opera and it was spectacular! I loved everything about the show and I'm so glad I waited until it had been refreshed, modernized and brought up to date in terms of special effects etc, rather than seeing it several years ago, amid all the hype.  

It was a stunning production, so ghostly and atmospheric. The sets were amazing - staircases, gilded opera boxes, a moving bridge, the golden mirror and of course, the chandelier!  When the chandelier fell the entire audience gasped and squealed because it was so realistic. I loved the gondola scene, when the Phantom takes Christine down into his underground lair. The stage was full of mist, so the boat looked like it was floating on water as it moved around the boards and there were lots of real candles, flickering and floating on the 'water'. I don't know how they did it, but the effect was amazing. Apparently they use 180 candles in every single performance. The effect is mesmerizing!

I was completely transfixed for the duration of the musical and I couldn't take my eyes off the stage.  I had recieved the film of Phantom for my birthday last year and I knew then that I wanted to go and see it at the theatre, so I was thrilled to get tickets back in the summer. A theatre trip to London wasn't nearly so expensive as I had been led to believe by some, but there are always those individuals who like to try and inflate the value of something in order to make others feel that it is beyond their budget. It's a twisted form of self-perceived elitism I suppose, but in my experience a Disney event is more expensive than Phantom was, and I've been to several of those!

Her Majesty's Theatre in London is just beautiful. It reminded me of the Lyceum in Sheffield city center as it has the same sort of charm, with painted frescoes on the ceiling and Grecian busts on the walls.  Finding our way to the theatre was tricky however, as we don't know London at all and everyone we asked for directions turned out to be foreigners, so they couldn't help. Eventually we asked the security guard in a branch of Tesco's and he pointed us in the right direction. We had to walk through Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square on a busy Saturday night, but we made it to the theatre eventually.  The Christmas lights had been switched on the night before our arrival, so the city looked beautiful, but it was extremely crowded - the kind of crowds where you can't see your way ahead, but just have to hang on to your companion so as not to get separated and edge your way through. I don't like crowded places so that was pretty stressful. 

This is the third time I've been to the capital and I have to be honest - I really don't like London.  It's too big, busy and obnoxious. It's so noisy too. The emergency sirens are the loudest ones I've ever heard in my life, but they have to be because when the traffic is gridlocked, which appears to be the norm, drivers just sit there blaring their horns at the world - like that's going to help!  It's a total culture shock, as in Yorkshire we can strike up a conversation with a random stranger in the post office and we often smile and say hello to people who are clearly just visiting the area. Not so in London.  It puts things into perspective with the Londoners I've met over the years - now I know why they are always super stressed and constantly switched on all the time. It's because they've had to be!  We were advised to wear our handbags underneath our coats due to pick-pockets and moped muggers, for the bikes don't stick to traffic lanes, but weave in and out, on and off pavements, so you can't tell if its a mugger or a courier! I could never spend longer than a weekend in the capital. Give me Yorkshire or Scotland over London on any day of the week! 

Having said that, there is one place that I absolutely fell in love with and that was The Brasserie of Light in Selfridges. I have wanted to go there for years, ever since I discovered that it is the place which inspired Kylie Minogue's Aphrodite tour and album. Apparently, she was having lunch there with her creative director, Will, and inspired by her beautiful surroundings, she came up with the concept of Aphrodite Les Foiles - my favourite Kylie concert.  

So I knew I wanted to go there one day. Luckily, when I Googled it to see if it was close, we were standing on Oxford Street and had just walked past Selfridges where it is located, so we turned back and went into the department store. Selfridges itself is very impressive. It's huge and you could easily spend a whole day there, shopping, eating and drinking. It was like three Meadowhall Centers, stacked on top of each other. It really is that big! But it is lovely and the staff there are friendly and kind. 

Up we went to The Brasserie of Light, on the first floor. We didn't realize you had to book ahead, but when we asked if we could just go in for a birthday cocktail, the maitre d' gave us a very warm welcome and immediately made room for us at the busy bar, pulling out the heavy bar stools for us to climb onto and handing us a cocktail menu. Looking at the menu it was clear to see Kylie's inspiration - the menu was in her songs, her songs are in the menu and you can see the link between the restaurant and her Aphrodite era and cocktails such as Pomona, The Unicorn, Hermes Cup etc.  We chose The Pegasus and The Passion of Eros cocktails which were delicious, then a few moments later the waitress and maitre d' brought over a little birthday cake for me, complete with a golden candle and a white chocolate Pegasus, on the house! I have never felt more spoilt. It was such a kind thing for them to do and it was totally unexpected. Not only had they made room for us without a reservation, but now they brought me a free birthday cake! And all the while, the sparking Pegasus wall sconces were shining down on me. I felt like a princess! 

The Brasserie of Light is the most magical and beautiful bar-restaurant I have ever been in. It really is filled with warm, golden light. There are beveled sun-burst mirrors all over which reflect the light from glowing orbs and tables lamps. Even the bar itself was illuminated with Art Deco style lamps and the wall lights are fashioned into flying horses that glitter with crystals. There is a huge Pegasus hanging from the wall as well, designed by Damien Hirst, and in the entrance was a sparkling elephant, all dressed up in his Santa hat!  The drinks are served in cut glass crystal, rather than the bog-standard pub glass-wear you usually get in restaurants and the whole experience is one of luxury, glamour and magic. It's so much more than a drink or a meal - it's an experience! Definitely one of the poshest places I've ever been to and I felt very fortunate to have followed in the footsteps of Kylie, my favourite pop princess. I wish we had a Brasserie of Light in Yorkshire. I would never be away from it! I would love to go back there and reserve a table for one of their afternoon teas. That's a plan for another day. 

So all in all, it was a wonderful pre-birthday weekend, with Phantom on Saturday and the Brasserie of Light on Sunday. I came home with some lovely memories, souvenirs and early birthday gifts from the theatre, including a Phantom teddy bear who is all kitted out in cloak and mask! He's adorable. Plus I got a small ornament of the Golden Mirror and a program too. It was a magical weekend and I had such a wonderful time. It was quite exhausting though, so today I'm going to watch my Phantom of the Opera film and Kylie's Aphrodite tour and relax. 

BB Marie 

BOOK NOOK; Witch Light by Susan Fletcher

Reading with a sea view in the Oban Chocolate shop

 "But last night, I wanted him with me - I wanted his face to be here, by my face, and for him to teach me those Gaelic names. Aonach Dubh. Coire Gabbail. Missing him is like water - it comes in waves. It rushes in upon me so that I'm soaked with it. It is like being grabbed. It leaves me gasping, like how the herring did, in their nets. Just now, I felt it. Just now." 

I came across this book in The Highland Bookshop, in Fort William when I was on holiday in the Highlands last week. Witch Light is set in Glencoe and it tells the story of Corrag.  Having been to Glencoe a few times over the years, I have often heard of Corrag the witch, but I didn't know that much about her, only that she was one of the historical witches of the region.  

Of course, I am also familiar with the Massacre of Glencoe too. It is an aspect of Scottish history that always brings tears to my eyes at the thought of such a tragic betrayal of trust.  I'd had my own adventure on the mountains of Glencoe just the day before, so when I saw this novel in Fort William, I swept down upon it like a vulture!

This book very cleverly weaves together the two strands of history and folklore, for here Corrag the witch is a witness to the Massacre which decimated Clan MacDonald in 1692.  It is a very sweeping book. By that I mean, it accurately depicts the sweeping landscape of the Glen of Coe - the mountains, rocks, rivers, burns and waterfalls - and the weather that can almost sweep you away off the mountain if you're not careful, as I discovered for myself the day before!  Also the narrative completely sweeps you away too. I felt like I was still standing on that mountain, following in the footsteps of the MacDonald Clansmen, feeling their ghostly breath in the wind and the air around me. 

I don't know if this is because I had been in Glencoe the day before I started reading the novel or if it would have had the same effect on me had I read it in England, but it had a deep impact on me emotionally and I felt very moved by this book.  The narrative is lyrical and poetic, almost like nature writing, for the landscape plays a significant role in the story.  

This is a novel about loneliness and a life lived in solitude, with only the yearning for a love that can never be and the wildlife for company.  It describes the wilderness as the only constant companion we will ever have - the weather, the birds, the river and so on. In this sense the book carries a pagan, almost indigenous quality, which I appreciated.  Distrusted by people because of her witchy ways, Corrag befriends the animals around her, steadily gaining their trust. She makes friends with a stag and again, this is something I could relate to because I have had such a brief encounter as this one myself, on several occasions;

"There was a moment. We both knew it, and saw it - this one small moment where he had all his trust in me.  He was, briefly, tame. Briefly, he was mine - for as he opened his warm mouth and leant in, and steamed, there was no strength in him. He could not have run. He was naked, tired, and he longed for the apple which I'd saved for him, all this while."

There is nothing more sacred than feeding a wild stag from your own hand, experiencing the mutual trust that is at play, knowing that he will never be tame, but for just a few moments, you are connected and there is true love between you. It's a very special, magical encounter and I hope to have more of them in the future.

Corrag learns to adapt to her surroundings, her solitude and changing situations.  She knows when she needs to move on, when its time for her to run. Likewise she also knows when she has found her soul-home and the king stag of Glencoe calls to her in welcome as soon as she arrives there. Then she meets the MacDonalds, Alasdair among them, with his dark auburn hair like autumn leaves and ferns, and his sky-blue eyes twinkling, and she knows that she has changed in meeting him, that she will change more in knowing him, that her life will never be the same again.  All so very relatable. 

This is a very moving novel. It perfectly captures the storytelling style of Scots culture. It can be quite a weepy one, as it deals in some very dark material.  Knowing that the Massacre is coming hangs over you like a dark cloud as you read. The betrayal, when it comes, is heart-breaking. The fear for the Clan is real, the worry for Alasdair is acute. The official Massacre Order is even reprinted at the end of the book, which is a very chilling read. I'd heard it read out at the Glencoe Visitor Center, but to see it written down in black and white, really brings it home to you, how much hatred there was for the Jacobites at that time. 

I've always had a soft spot for the MacDonalds.  They were one of the Clans who stood by the Bruce from the very beginning. Through the good, the bad and the downright murderous, they never wavered, never left his side and they were duly rewarded with lands and titles when he became King of Scots in 1306. That loyalty to the Scots Royal line remained in place, leading the Clan to become staunch Jacobites. It was for this reason, they paid the ultimate price and the Massacre was ordered.  

But it didn't have the desired effect, for the MacDonalds still thrive throughout western Scotland. I know because I've kissed one - and a very handsome piper he was too! The MacDonalds are not the kind of Clan that will be kept down. They will always rise up again. 

Witch Light is a beautiful, passionate historical novel.  It will sweep you away to the Glen of Coe and leave you breathless with fear, loss and newfound hope. This is a novel of survival, betrayal, love and trust. It's an emotional read, so have the tissues at the ready. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading it and it has been a wonderful way to prolong my holiday. I feel bereft now that I have finished the novel. I just want to stay in Glencoe with Alasdair for a bit longer! 

I hope that the author writes more Scottish historical novels as I feel that she has truly found her vein of gold here.  Fortunately you don't need to go all the way to Fort William to buy a copy - unless you want to! - as it is available on Amazon in paperback as Witch Light and on Kindle as Corrag.  Prepare to be swept away to Glencoe! 

BB Marie x

ONCE UPON A DREAM; Highland Halloween

 

Glencoe - I was almost blown off this mountain by 80mph winds!

I have recently returned from a wonderful week in the Scottish Highlands, which was my first proper holiday since before the pandemic.  I went back to Oban because I felt that I needed to spend some time by the sea. The weather was mild for Scotland at this time of year and we had lots of sunshine, with one or two heavy downpours mixed in. It wouldn't be Scotland without rain.

I re-visited some lovely places. From Oban I went on the ferry across to the Isle of Mull. The sea was choppy that day, so we were not allowed to stay up on deck but had to sit in the lounge area instead. Only the Crew were allowed outside.  I missed feeling the wind and the sea-spray, but it was also nice to be tucked up, warm and dry inside the boat, to feel the gentle rocking motion as we made our way out to the Islands. Tobermory is such a pretty little town.  I like all the pastel painted shops on the harbor. I spent a nice day here exploring, before catching the ferry back at 7pm, by which time it was pitch dark.  This was the first time I had ever been to sea in the dark and I was a bit nervous.  The waters were black, like ink. Once again, we had to sit in the safety of the lounge, so you couldn't really see anything except black water.  I thought I might be scared to be sailing after dark, but the rocking motion and the darkness lulled me off to sleep. I had a nice nap and woke to a Crewman gently shaking my shoulder saying "Wake up lassie, we're here"! 

I also explored much more of Oban than on previous occasions.  I spent a lot of time in Dunollie Woods which is just beautiful. It is also called the Witches Woods, on account of there being a coven who operated there in support of Clan MacDougal. The MacDougals were against the Bruce because they were kin to Clan Comyn by marriage. In fact, Robert the Bruce sacked Dunollie Castle in retribution for their disobedience.  

I am always very aware when I am in enemy territory and much of the Highlands is historically enemy territory to a Bruce. That's why I like to go there - for devilment! - and because the fact is, Robert won and so its all Bruce territory now! But it did feel like the woods welcomed me in. Perhaps the tree spirits recognized a witch and chose to ignore my Bruce blood.  I certainly saw quite a few faces in the bark, Ents watching over me, smiling in welcome. I even found a cave that looked like the perfect home for a forest witch, such as Corrag or Nicnevin. I've posted lots of Highlands photos on my Twitter, so head over there if you want to see these magical places. 

After the woods, I decided to tackle McCaig's Tower, which is a huge folly built at the top of Battery Hill in Oban.  At nighttime the Tower is all lit up with purple lights and it looks very pretty.  I have tried to go there once before, but the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) got the better of me. This time I was determined to make it.  I knew that I would only need to do it once, so instead of taking the slope which had defeated me the last time, I went up the steps - over 100 of them! - and this time I made it to the very top! The views are stunning. You can see the Islands and the whole harbor town of Oban is laid out beneath you. It was worth the climb, but I don't feel the need to do it twice.

I was in Oban for Samhain. I love spending Halloween in Scotland. The hotels were decorated with cobwebs and pumpkins on the steps, so it all looked very festive. The local kids and teens were out guising and the hotel reception had a big cauldron of sweeties ready for them. It was a nice atmosphere.  I cast my spells into the sea at high tide, using pebbles and leaves that I had collected earlier that day. I always try to cast a spell into the sea whenever I am at the coast, and thus far, they have always been effective, so we shall see what the Bay of Oban brings my way in the coming months. Casting in Scotland on the night of Samhain felt particularly magical. 

I think by far the best day of the holiday was the one I spent in Glencoe. The weather was against us from the start, with pouring rain and a blowing wind, but that just made for some beautiful waterfalls coming down the mountains as we went through Argyll.  I've been driven through Glencoe a few times and I am always stunned by its magnificence. It really is a Highland Cathedral, so majestic and somehow holy.  It's a very special place and I am deeply fond of it.  I explored the Visitor Center and learnt more about the tragic Massacre of Glencoe. This is an aspect of Scottish history that has always had the power to move me to tears. After watching the short film at the Center, I knew I wanted to retrace the footsteps of Clan MacDonald. So I decided, on a whim, to head up the mountain to the View Point. Like you do. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the winds up there that day were coming in at 60-80 miles an hour. I didn't discover that until much later!

So off I went, on my own, the intrepid explorer. I didn't tell anyone where I was going (mistake No1) and armed with my trusty Accessorize pink umbrella to keep the rain off (mistake No2) I set off up the mountain track, heading for the view point at the very top. Well, what an adventure that turned out to be!  To begin with all was well. The lower regions of the mountain were forested, which kept much of the wind and rain at bay. This also gave the false impression that the weather wasn't so bad.The autumn colours were bold and bright and I was enjoying myself.  The walk was more of a hike than I'd imagined and quite steep, but I was doing okay for a while. I didn't see any wildlife at all though. No birds or squirrels. Certainly no stags. This was the first message from the mountain. I ignored it (mistake No3). 

I have always known that Glencoe is lethal in the wintertime. I know that it has taken many lives, including the lives of experienced climbers and mountaineers. What I discovered is that Glencoe is just as dangerous in the autumn too. It doesn't need snow to kill someone. It is not a place to be messed with or taken lightly.  And a city girl with a fetching pink umbrella is no match for it!

As I walked up the mountain, it got steeper and steeper, like mountains do. This should not have come as a surprise, but it did.  The higher I got, the worse the weather seemed to become. The winds got stronger. The paths gave way to deer tracks and the deer tracks gave way to a slippery, muddy mess.  The rain turned to sleet, then hail. All that rain had to go somewhere and so the deer tracks became a river beneath my feet. At one point, I was ankle deep in watery mud, slipping and sliding my way forwards as best I could.  With an umbrella in one hand and my handbag in the other, I wasn't really hands-free to help myself with the climb. I was surrounded by mud and I had no idea if I was still on the path or not. And I still hadn't seen any wildlife. Not even a bird. 

When I cleared the treeline, it was like all hell was let loose upon me. Without the shelter of the forest the wind screamed down at me with a banshee's voice, taking hold of my umbrella and using it like a sail, almost carrying me clean off the side of the mountain. I managed to grab onto a wayward tree as the wind took hold of me like a rag doll. My umbrella was now a tangled mess of twisted spokes, but luckily it was the only thing that was broken. I was still in one piece. This was the second message from the mountain. I paid attention. 

I took out my phone and quickly snapped the photo that is at the top of this post. This was the place where I was almost swept off the mountain and for some reason, I wanted to remember the moment. I don't know why. I don't think I was thinking very clearly. My ears were popping and I felt quite dizzy, but that's when I noticed that my phone had lost signal. 

At this point I was about two thirds of the way up the mountain.  I couldn't even see the top though, as it was covered in thick cloud.  I realized that even if I made it to the View Point, there wouldn't be much of a view to see! And the wind would be stronger than ever up there on the summit.  I also realized that I was somewhat lost. I couldn't see the path down. It was all just mud. To be honest, I felt a bit scared and panicky then. So although the Bruce spirit was still urging me to press-ahead (Aye yer almost there lassie, keep going, dinna give up now! I swear that thing is gonna kill me one day!) common sense kicked in,  told me that I was being reckless and that I should heed the friendly warning of the mountain and turn back. Today was not the weather for it. There would be other days. I could always come back. In the summer. 

Carefully I made my way back into the main tree-line and sat on a soggy stump to weigh up my options. I was lost and alone on Glencoe, in gale force winds and all I had with me was a Mars chocolate milkshake, a packet of shortbread, a sgian-dubh that still had a blunt edge, a phone with no signal and a pink umbrella that was now broken. So I decided I might as well have a little picnic.  After all, Glencoe was still beautiful and I still felt very lucky to be there.

After some shortbread and a drink of milkshake I started to feel much better.  Normally when I am lost in the Highlands, I call the King Stag and sure enough a stag will happen along and all I have to do is follow him and he leads me to a place I know. But there were no stags for me to call. They were no doubt sheltering down in the Glen itself, being far wiser than me!  Instead, I closed my eyes and invoked the MacDonalds. Glencoe is, so they say, full of their ghosts and hadn't I wanted to walk in their footsteps? I introduced myself as a Bruce and apologized for underestimating their mountains, for not respecting them enough and I asked them to guide me safely off the mountain. 

A few moments later I had what felt like an epiphany. I didn't need to find the path or even know where it was - I just needed to head downhill! So long as I was going down, I was going in the right direction. So off I went, feeling safe and protected. I didn't feel alone anymore. I felt surrounded, but in a good way. I knew I'd be okay. I knew the MacDonalds were with the Bruce, as they always have been.  Sure enough, a while later, I emerged from the forest at the bottom of the mountain, coming out on a completely different path to the one I went up, so I had indeed been quite lost up there. I turned and thanked the mountain for the adventure, thanked the Macdonalds for their wise guidance and promised to come back one day, when the weather is better! It was a suitably ghostly encounter on Saven week.

That, hands down, was the best day of the holiday and I love Glencoe even more for it! I feel like we have a special connection now, because I have felt its magnificence and its dangerous power for myself, which is so much better than reading about it in books or museums. And now the spirits of the MacDonalds know I exist too, which is just magical.  

When we got back to Oban, the storm raged in off the sea, with waves coming up over the promenade and hail battering the hotel windows. What I'd experienced on the mountain was just the start of it.  I'm not going to lie, I did feel rather subdued for the rest of the evening, especially when I saw the weather forecast and it said that the winds in Glencoe had reached 80 miles per hour that afternoon, which is when I was up there. I felt like I'd had a lucky escape and it did leave me a little downcast and dejected. But I also can't wait to go back there again! I'll just make sure I go on a nice day.

After Glencoe, the remainder of my holiday was rather tame.  It was still lovely and a welcome respite after all the excitement I'd had on the mountain! I visited Inverary and Fort William, where I bought a book about the Massacre of Glencoe and the witch Corrag. Finding this book felt like a sign that the MacDonalds were still with me.  I began to read it in the Oban Chocolate shop, with a delicious pumpkin-spice white chocolate mocha. It's a wonderful novel, especially reading it after my own adventure.  There will be a Book Nook coming on it soon, so watch out for that.

I also went back to Loch Lomond again. It was fabulous to be back there, catching up with old friends, watching the pretty swans on the water with Ben Lomond towering over them. Even though I enjoy travelling alone, I never feel alone at Loch Lomond. I have friends there who keep me good company. 

So all in all, it was a marvelous, if somewhat hair-raising, week in the Highlands and I have come home very inspired to start writing again. I'm already thinking about where in Scotland I want to go next. I'm leaning towards going somewhere I've never been before, as there is still a lot of Scotland that I have yet to experience. 

Or maybe I'll go back to Stirling and Bannockburn and spend a bit of time with my friend Bob. I'm not sure yet, but I do know that I can't wait to return to my soul-home. And to Glencoe!

Enemy territory! Sunset over Dunollie Castle

Slainte Mhath

Marie x

    

    

MUSICAL DOLL; Vigilante Karma

 Don't get sad, get even...

It's coming back around...

Karma is the thunder, rattling your ground.