On the Beat

New Year’s Day was a beautiful day: crystal blue skies. I finally stirred myself and went for a walk in the afternoon, where just after lunch suddenly becomes sunset, the afternoons being short this time of year.

So I saw my first sunset of the year. (But no otters.)

New Year itself was spent in the big house; there were fifteen people around the table (they had 35 for Christmas – it really is the big house!).

My contribution was peeling the potatoes and carrots, which I did with my godson whilst watching what was billed “Jim Henson’s Jack & the Beanstalk”. I thought this would involve muppets and assorted things, and so I was disappointed. Also, it was very, very long – so I don’t know why I watched it to the end…

We later watched the DVD of Prince Caspian which I had couriered from Edinburgh; I thought it was much better – an awful lot better – than the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, so I was disappointed to see they won’t be making any more of the series. (Still, it wasn’t as good as my memories of reading the books thirty five years ago.)

To feed the fifteen, they roasted chicken and duck, and lots of potatoes, parsnips, cabbage, carrots and a variety of stuffings. (All of which tasted excellent, and made a wonderful base for bread sauce, which is what big meals like this are all about. Much better than stuffing!) I excelled myself by being the only person who wanted seconds… And wine, too; there was a lot of wine. The kids worked out how to take out the stoppers from party poppers and put things inside, thereby making a small handheld cannon; the wall was spattered with cranberry sauce.

We toasted the bells with champagne and flaming raisins (soaked in rum or brandy and set alight; a little dangerous, but rather nice).

It wasn’t too late a night – it was so cold that no one chose to go first footing in the village (and, let’s face it, I would probably have avoided that anyway!).

But it was a good way to start the New Year.

I spent New Year at my friends’, over on the west coast. They live in the country, at the end of the road, and like many rural people, they leave their front door open. Whenever I get there, I just walk in and sit down in their living room.

And, whenever I do this, I am immediately joined by a cat. There are two cats there, Sally, a somewhat crosseyed siamese, and Smokie, her daughter. The cats I used to live with came from the same litter as Smokie. I don’t know if there is any sense of that (and I doubt the cats I used to live with would remember me now, so I don’t expect Sally and Smokie do, either), but somewhat to my embarrassment Smokie and Sally seem to prefer my lap to any of their regular humans – Smokie, in particular, seems to make herself very much at home on me.

Indeed, the two cats fight over the right to sit on me, Sally hissing and pushing her daughter out of the way. It is nice to be wanted.

Like the little cat I used to live with, if I pick Smokie up, she climbs onto my shoulder – indeed, she won’t be picked up and carried – she always climbs onto my shoulder. I find this incredibly endearing – there is something rather lovely about having a soft cat purring loudly whilst nestling against my ear. One day, I shall smuggle Smokie into my car and quietly spirit her away.

Here are some pictures of Smokie, Sally, and Smokie and Sally, on my lap, taken with my pocket camera. (The pictures are from my trip last December - but they both found me irresistible last week, too!)

It was a good weekend for sunsets. I watched the sun go down behind Carradale from the jetty at Claonaig.

When I left on Monday morning, I saw the sun rise over Arran; the clouds made it spectacular.

It was a cold weekend, and that meant the air was clear. (Or vice versa.) The light was beautiful.

I walked along the coast in both directions – north for a couple of miles towards Tarbert, and south to Claonaig.

( More pictures behind the cut... )

...I was walking along the coast, hoping to photograph the sunset. (I did that, too.)

I saw something swimming some way off; and I watched two otters swim to the shore, climb onto the rocks and feed, before swimming off again.

I have seen otters from hides on a nature reserve before, but I have never seen them truly wild. I was incredibly excited - this was as good as watching golden eagles. I have been visiting this bit of coast for perhaps 25 years - and have never seen otters before, although the people I was staying with told me there are a fair number of sitings on this bit of the coast. I'm going back for New Year, so I shall keep my eyes open!

On my way to Islay, I dropped in on my friends in Skipness – the ferry to Islay goes from near their hamlet.

It was a good visit; we drank a lot, as usual. The kids were out most of the time, and when they weren’t, they seemed to be playing computer games.

Instead I had a very cute cat, a whisky and a log fire to keep me warm.

My friends, who look after the castle on behalf of Historic Scotland, too, told me that the castle was haunted: once when locking up long after dark, he and his son saw a light when no light should have been there; another time when locking up, he clearly heard footsteps on the floor above him, but there was no one there. He now no longer locks up after dark!

The boat didn’t leave until the following lunchtime, so I went for a walk around the castle and the chapel on the beach before having lunch at the seafood cabin in the shadow of the castle.

Of course, I took some photographs…

( more pictures behind the cut… )

I am away on holiday, in Skipness on the west coast of Scotland.

I was there in July as well. I meant to write a post about it, but I seem not to have done so.

I haven't even managed to edit all the photos I took then; but I have done a few; you can see them here, if you want to imagine where I am.

I have many more photos to put up, but I have run out of time.

When I come back, I shall have many, many more, I expect.

I'll be back in a week or so.