Friday 27th June

Sumburgh

I am a long way north. I am in the Shetland Isles. It is past midnight and up here it is still twilight and the sun will be rising again in a few hours. It has been a glorious day - the weather forecast was not good but when I arrived the sun was shining and banks of fog were drifting off the sea. I wanted to see puffins and thought I would have to travel to the northern island of Unst.

But joy of joys. There are puffins close to the airport. So I collected my hire car and headed off at a rather slow pace. Most of the roads are single track with passing places. There are lots of steep hills and sharp drops which is a bit alarming when you are still trying to work out where reverse gear might be.

But I made it safely to the Sumburgh Nature Reserve. It is a spectacular spot - the cliffs are sheer, the sea below deep green transmuting to prussian blue in the distance. Jagged rocks rise out of the sea, old earth twisted out of its layers millions of years ago and still withstanding the endless beating of the waves. Sea pinks, buttercups, red campion and daisies fill the fields (along with rabbits).

And the birds. I have never seen so many birds together. It is a city of birds. There are gulls and gannets in the air, razorbills and guillemots by the hundred on the rocks below. The noise is extraordinary. And then there are the puffins, snuggled up in their high rise burrows almost rabbit like in the way they hop inside. They are as cute as they look on the telly, somehow it seems slightly unreal to see them. They are very sweet, lots of pairs snuggling up together, billing (and probably cooing). Not the most elegant in flight, their wings flutter almost to the point of hovering. Off they go to search for food. And coming back in to land on the sheer cliffs, their little orange feet drop down, silhouetted by the sun. It all looks too cartoon-like to be real.

I see one young puffin who is standing only a few feet away from me and seems to be as interested in me as I am in him. Or perhaps he was just wary.

There are lots of other birds - a small brown bird sits on a sign post - have no idea what it is and wish I had brought my bird book. Look down and realise the bird sitting on the top is shown on the sign. It's a twite. And I see a Shetland wren taking a dust bath. And lots of terns and eider ducks (and ducklings).

Too late to go and see any of the Iron Age settlements I decide to walk along the beach. What a joy to be walking along a beach with the sun still shining in the west and a beautiful evening light. And it is past 10pm.

posted at 21:48 in /travel (permanent link)

Saturday 28th June

Brae

I am glad to sit down and look at a menu. Supper should soon be on its way. I feel I deserve it. I have walked my legs off. Mainly through lack of planning.

I started the day in the south of the mainland and went to Jarlshof a settlement for more than 4,000 years - iron age, Norse, mediaeval and later - buildings all clustered together close to the shoreline. Apparently there was a lot of trade between Shetland and Norway going way back into time. It's interesting to view the world from this northerly point. People now talk about 'the market' but there is nothing new in this. Apparently Shetland was only a couple of days travel from Norway (the equivalent of weekend away) and there was a lot of trade going on.

Now the trade seems to be in oil. North Sea oil comes ashore at Sullom Voe and the oilmen seem to come ashore at Sumburgh - or at least I think that is what the helicopters are delivering. It seems that the men working on the rigs come to Shetland for the weekend (no booze on the rigs). This explains the modern building at the back of the hotel, it seems to be held for the oil workers.

After my time travel I head north for the ferry to Yell and then Unst. I manage to catch an earlier ferry and see lots of puffins swimming alongside the ferry. I love these island ferries. You drive on, park the car, wander on to the deck, watch one side of land disappear and the new land appear, watch the boat come in, jump back into the car, as the ferry docks everyone drives off into the distance. It's all so simple and efficient.

The North Isles are sparsely populated and the houses look more Scandinavian than British. Red and blue and green, scattered along the shoreline and on the hills. Lots of bungalows, plenty of space here, no need to build upwards. And almost no shops anywhere - this feels like a truly different world. I drive past the bus shelter which have a couple of chairs for those waiting. Shetland is mainly peat - low rolling countryside, lots of sheep, the odd Shetland pony, lots of peat, white bog flowers that look like cotton wool and lots and lots of birds. Small and large, flying high and low, calling all the time. It is the predominant sound.

It is lovely now in mid summer, it must be cold and dark in mid winter. At the moment the sun sets at 10.30pm and rises again at 3.30am. I woke this morning at 4.30 to brilliant sunshine, for a moment I thought it was time to get up.

Up in the far north I decide to go to the Nature Reserve. There are no maps left in the box and so I have no idea of what the walk will be like. But decide to set off anyway. Have proper walking shoes and a waterproof jacket, binoculars and emergency snacks. There is a steep hill at the start and I pass walkers coming the other way. They all appear to be both serious walkers and birdwatchers. I cross a small burn and then onto the peat. And it stretches on and on and on. And on and on and on. By this time I have been walking a while and with no idea where I am going (other than the guiding poles to avoid the marsh and ponds) am beginning to wonder if I should turn back. But I keep going and eventually am rewarded by the sight of spectacular cliffs. The sea is crashing onto rocks hundreds of feet below. Gulls are wheeling on thermals. Sheep are grazing beside me and it seems very blissful. But also very steep.

At this point I begin to lose my nerve - there is no-one in sight. The poles and any marker sign have disappeared. I can see the path but it seems to go on for miles and up hill and down hill (and that is just the bit I can see). And there are dark clouds which seem to be speeding towards me. So I decide that this is enough exercise for the day and decide to re-trace my footsteps (girly wimp I know, but it would be so embarassing to have to be rescued). I visit the Unst heritage centre which used to be the school and now is a visitor's centre showing how people lived and worked and examples of Shetland lace knitting. Then a drive back across islands and ferries and to a cosy hotel, find food and the chance of seeing otters (if I can get my weary legs to walk some more).

posted at 21:42 in /travel (permanent link)

Saturday 24th May

Farnham

My mother (and dog) are coming to stay for the weekend and we have just been exploring family history. She wanted to find her grandmother's grave. I tried to find it about a year ago, but couldn't find the church let alone the graveyard. We drive round in various loops while I try to remember where I went last year (but have forgotten to bring the map of the area). We find Vicarage Lane which seems to give a clue as to where the church might be. I drove along here last year and found no church. But this time my mother spots the graveyard.

There is only the graveyard, no sign of the church. We wander around but it is not clear where the church would have been. My mother remembers going there for her grandmother's funeral, sometime in the 1940s but all seems different now. No church, the graveyard itself overgrown. Rather beautiful with cow parsley in full flower and dappled light coming through trees much taller than in my mother's memory.

We find the gravestone, I virtually trip over it. The dog, excited to be liberated from the car, wants to explore. There are three inscriptions. Firstly for her grandfather who died before she was born. He died in 1909 of peritonitis. Then a commone enough ailment, now antibiotics would probably have saved him. We may complain about over prescription, but they remain a wonder drug when you really need them.
Then his son, Archie, who died in November 1918. He managed to survive the war (and to be awarded the Military Cross) but then died in the flu epidemic of 1918. So many young men weakened by war died from flu, a cruel irony after such a bloody war.

And finally my great grandmother who died in 1942 aged 84. The women on my mother's side of the family all seem to live to a good age. The following generation lived well into their 80s and so my mother's generation seem to be doing pretty well too. Hope I've inherited these genes.

posted at 21:00 in /where (permanent link)

Friday 20 June


I am sitting at a conference about the future of the media. There are lots of interesting people saying lots of interesting things. Because it is a media futures conference everyone has access to the internet. There has been talk of Twitter which I only just understand. Twitter allows you to chat to people - halfway between email and txt and you can use your mobile or the internet.

Here it known as the 'backchannel' - the channel where the listeners get to speak. But I have just managed to go and take a look (signing up has been on my to do list for months). There isn't much being said. So what are all the people who claim to be twittering actually doing? Are they writing articles? Answering email? Playing scrabulous? Sorting their holiday photos? I was talking about the fact that there are so many things we could be doing that attention is the scarce resource. Even if the person you want to talk to is in the room, you can't assume that they are listening.

Seems like everyone wants to talk, but few have time to listen. Funny old world.

The conference is at Alexandra Palace which is where the BBC first broadcast. It is on the top of the hill and the view was spectacular. In far distance I can see the Crystal Palace transmitter. New media in their day and now dismissed as old media.

posted at 20:59 in /where (permanent link)

Sunday 8th June


Deepest Devon

I am sitting in the morning sunshine writing. I can hear wood pigeons to my right and a choir of small birds to my left. A blackbird is watching me, surprised to see anyone out this early. Two white doves have just appeared on the roof of the house. In the field above the garden cattle gently graze. The sun is warm. The dew has not yet been dried by the sun. I can hear the River Dart burbling its way to the sea. This is bliss.

The swifts are flying high in the sky. This is good news. The sun looks set to stay for the day. I am Devon with a group of friends. It is Leigh's 50th birthday today and we are here to help her celebrate. We are staying at a hotel called Fingals in Dittisham. It is a wonderful place, a house of history and character, beautiful gardens, affectionate dogs, fine food and great company. What more can there be.

Later we will go to the sea and stare into the middle distance. No plans further than five miles. Time to be and to enjoy being. At moments like this it is all one could wish for. Particularly with breakfast about to arrive.

Happy, happy Birthday, Leigh

posted at 20:58 in /where (permanent link)

Sunday 18th May

Bexhill-on-Sea

Cheered by sunshine I decided to head to the coast. I have been meaning to visit the De La Warr Pavilion since it re-opened and there is currently an exhibition curated by Grayson Perry. Realise that if I didn't go this weekend, I would miss it.

Bright and breezy, but breeze means everyone has to wrap up well. Kids are skateboarding and families are braving the wind and pretending it is summer. A few brave souls are in summer clothes, the more sensible still well wrapped up. But the sun is trying to break its way through the clouds and every so often shines in full glory and everyone feels it was worth the effort.

Some have come to see the exhibition but there is also a mid century modern fair. Lots of furniture from the 1950s and 60s. All the things that I remember from my childhood. All the things that people in the 80s were keen to rip out. Now they are back in fashion. But it is a younger generation who seem most interested. Most are in their late 20s or 30s - married with young kids. I wonder if nostalgia is always 20 years before you were born?

I was born in the 1950s and much of my generation seem fascinated by the early modern - the buildings and furniture of the 1930s. These people would have been born in the 1970s and they seem to like things of the 1950s. Perhaps the decades preceding your birth are far enough away to seem glamorous but close enough to seem real.

posted at 20:57 in /where (permanent link)

Saturday 17th May 2008


I am not in Moscow, left soon after I wrote the last blog entry and not sure what has happened to the past year. It is disconcerting to realise how quickly it has disappeared and how little I have done on 3 wishes.

However, this year is this year and I hope to go travelling later in the year. Not quite sure when, that will depend on work and practical stuff. I'm thinking about heading north to Shetland for a few days in June. In June it will hardly get dark (assuming good weather). Other than that, I have no definite plans. So I am dusting down the blog, sticking stamps on the postcards and hoping to get out and about and start chatting to people once more.

I have received almost a thousand wishes so far. Originally I planned to analyse them and write a book. But when I try to analyse them they seem to become pale imitations of their original form. So I may try to do a book with lots of pictures I have taken around Britain and let the wishes speak for themselves. Perhaps a chapter talking about the themes.

I still hope to write a book about Britain and how it is changing and have just joined a writing course. Having proved to myself that, despite my good intentions, I could not find time to write. Now I am part of a group and am looking forward to having people to talk with (and think I may do better with a few deadlines in place.

But for now I am back at home in London, looking at maps and thinking about trips. I bought a book about cool campsites and one about nice pubs to stay in - it feels like a step in the right direction....

posted at 20:57 in /where (permanent link)

Saturday 28th June

Sumburgh, Shetland Isles

I am sitting looking out to sea and having breakfast. The forecast is not good but at the moment the sky is blue, streaked only with high wisps of cloud. A beautiful day, who knows how long it will last but for now it is perfect. My plan is to head north to the island of Unst. This will require finding somewhere to stay and getting a place on the two ferries to get there, so this may not be possible. But the general direction is north.

Up here it is 60 degrees north, on the same latitude as Bergen in Norway and South Greenland. I came prepared for wintery weather but sandals and a T shirt all that's needed at the moment. When I asked about the weather yesterday I was told. "If you don't like the weather, don't worry. In five minutes something completely different will be along"

posted at 20:49 in /where (permanent link)

Thursday 27th June


Am off to Shetland. I'm hoping to see puffins as well as talk to people about wishes. Not sure what I will see, doesn't look as if it is going to be the sun - the weather forecast is rather wintery and I have had to find socks and scarves and hat (in case it is windy).

So far I have managed to get through the security systems at Terminal 5 and that is adventure enough for one morning. Strange how difficult it is to find signs about where to get your flight - everything seems to be designed for the shopping experience. Hey ho, that's what a consumer society is about I guess. Looking forward to the north, even if the weather is not great

posted at 20:48 in /where (permanent link)