Brigantine Schooner leaving Ullapool

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Photography, The UK

Castles

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Castles, Photography, The UK

Yes we did manage a Castle or two during our holidays all be it they are few and far between in fact so few and far between one was one side of the country and the other the other side.

We visited Dunrobin Castle on a rather long way back home, home to the Earls and Dukes of Sutherland since the 13th century.  Situated 52 miles north of Inverness it is surprisingly French and Disney like in its appearance, not like a traditional Scottish Castle at all.

It’s 13th century core is still there but can not be seen from the outside, for that you need to go inside the castle and look through into an internal courtyard.  However, I have no pictures of that as Dunrobin, along with many other castles these days do not allow photographs to be taken inside (my guess it is some kind of condition that insurance companies put on them, well I hope that is the case I would be doubly miffed it was them just being silly).  That being said it must also be said that the Dunrobin’s entry charge means that should you be north of Inverness and unsure what to do for a day then this is the place to go.  There is of course the castle itself, a good number of rooms open to the public, although it still is a family home.  Hubby loved the children’s playroom with some fantastic toys made by local people on display.  There is copious amounts of wood panelling, wonderful bookshelves with each foot and a half shelf separately adjustable – project for Hubby, though not sure he will ever get around to it – innumerable family trinkets and memorabilia from down through the centuries all encompassed in a wonderful warm and welcoming feel.

The main rooms of the Castle face out on to the gardens and the North Sea:

It was a glorious day when we visited the sky was blue the sea aquamarine, the gardens are a lovely mixture of formal gardens and wooded areas and you can wander round them to your heart’s content as entrance to them is included in the price, as is one of the best falconry displays I have ever seen, and the fantastic family museum housing some stunning Pictish stones (warning to those of you who don’t like taxidermy there is quite a bit in there)  which is in the once Summer house.  (Don’t be fooled, it is probably at least twice the size of the Rectory.)  We spent the whole afternoon at Dunrobin, but we could have easily spent the whole day (I could have spent the whole day in the museum), good value for its £9.50 entrance fee and what is more the nice gentleman who welcomed us did try every angle going to get us a reduced price.  But we were too old, or too young and weren’t student, yes we were sure.

The other castle could not have been more opposite not only on the other side of the country but also a ruin.  This picture – courtesy of Hubby – was taken as we headed north, we had planned a stop on the way back when I would have taken my pictures but it was raining and the end of a long day, so that is for another journey.

Ardvreck Castle is on Loch Assynt near, well near nowhere.  Okay it is about half the distance north of Ullapool that Dunrobin is from Inverness but it feels and is totally isolated unlike Dunrobin.  On the east the roads are wide mainly straight and in parts dual carriageway, in the west the roads are narrow twisty and in parts single track with passing places.  Built in the 15th century it was the family seat of the Clan MacLeod.  Next time we are up that way I would like to spend some time exploring both the castle and the near by Calda house, which is also in ruins, which Clan MacKenzie built in 1726 as a modern manor house after capturing the MacLeod’s castle and lands in 1672.

Never Ending Circles

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Books, Phil Rickman, Photography, Religion, The UK

In Poolewe there is a graveyard and as I am rather fond of graveyards we had to go and take a look.  Although it has been there for centuries it is also still in use today, this I like a lot.  Inscribing gravestones with a name and date came late to Poolewe – the earliest is dated 1839, before named gravestones became commonplace burial plots were reused the circle of life and death continued for generations, so it is impossible to know how many souls have been laid to rest there.  It is a place of serenity and calm, not far from the edge of Loch Ewe itself, with the mountains behind it and a river either side a pretty little setting set back from the modern road, but there is more to this than might at first meet the eye.

Mother Ruth had pointed me in the direction of Phil Rickman’s series of books which follow the exploits of Merrily Watkins, and as those of you who follow me on facebook will already know I was reading them while on holiday.  One of the books I read was ‘A Crown of Lights’, the story revolves around the site of a deconsecrated church which had been placed on the site of a pre-Christian ritual site and hence had an unusual circular graveyard.  Yes you’ve guessed it, this graveyard too is circular, and like the graveyard in A Crown of Lights it too is surround by a ring of trees and what is more it too I believe has pre-Christian history.  But I am jumping ahead slightly – or should that be back slightly – as before I talk about that a quick bio of the more recent past might be in order.  The ruins of a church is in the north-east segment of the burial ground and has a number of later enclosures built along one side.  This is not the original church which fell out of use during the Reformation, although it might have continued to be used as a private chapel.   It was rebuilt in the 17^th century and used for Episcopalian worship, but it is hard to know when Christian worship first took place on the site.

I was one of the final people who did what was known as ‘The Scottish Dimension’ – personally I think it is a great shame that it is no longer compulsory for those who come to the SEC from other shores but hey who am I to express such an opinion? – Any way, when I did it back in the 80′s part which I chose to do was to write a paper on Old Govan Parish in particular the change from a pre-Christian to a Christian site.  I was reminded forcibly of it when I saw this:

Most people who take the time to wander round that graveyard probably pass this stone whose markings can not be read by, it is not very tall and you might say that there is nothing particularly impressive about it.  Well I believe you would be wrong in that assumption for this is the typical shape of a Viking Hogback burial stone (there are some at Govan Old Parish) which rather than standing upright as this on is would be laid on top of a grave (or possibly a stone cut coffin) as the lid with the rounded surface facing outwards.  The Vikings were in Wester Ross in quite large numbers using its natural harbours to great effect as a base for their raids further south.  You don’t need to look too far in Wester Ross to find Viking place names, so it was no surprise to me to see what I think could very probably also be a sign of their burials.  While I am speculating I think that this too might very well be a hog back this time upside down with the characteristic hump buried in the grass.

But there is more than this speculation than the circular nature of the graveyard and a couple of possible hogbacks, there is also the Font Stone that lies north-west of the chapel, partly buried in turf.

Now it might be called a font stone but it is the smallest font I have ever seen and I think local folklore gives us a clue to what it was originally.  In the Highlands, and indeed in Argyll and the Isles, hollowed cup stones were associated with sacred water, used for coronations like at Dunadd in Kilmartin Glen, for the blessing of people on the verge of major milestones of their lives, for catching the full moon at the solace, or a sunbeam at mid summer, and the water that was in these cups were often said to have healing powers.  Local folklore says that the water in the stone at Poolewe cures warts and locally it is known as the Wart Stone.  Well to me it sounds much more likely that this stone has a pre-Christian history as a Pictish cup stone, that in centuries past the water contained in it was as likely to have blessed a young woman so that she might be like some mother earth god and bear strong healthy sons as blessing a new-born in the name of the Trinity.  Now before you think I am getting too fanciful then take a look at this:

This is a Pictish stone which would have once stood upright but has later been used as a burial slab.  Some of the original carving can still be seen, it is not the usual Pictish symbols that are commonly seen but rather geometrical ones.

There is a weathered crescent and v-rod symbol decorated with a curvilinear design and an arrangement of dots.  Pictish stones are traditionally found in northern and eastern parts of Scotland.  The stone at Poolewe is one of only two symbol scones discovered on the west coast of mainland Scotland.  Taking into account this rare stone being here says to me that this must have been an important site for the Picts.

A place of rest for centuries, a place of circles upon circles and I am left thinking of those who rest there, be they Viking, Pict or Christian, in the words of a Roman gravestone:

May your bones rest quietly
and may the earth lie lightly on you.

Development Opportunity

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Photography, The UK

As I said yesterday Hubby and I have been on holiday, the destination wasn’t some distant shore or cultural hot spot but rather the beautiful, stately, awesome ruggedness of Wester Ross.  A corner of this wonderful country where the barren mountains and heather covered peat bogs meet the soft sandy beaches and jagged harsh rocks; where the silence is still and deep and real; where you can drive for over 50 miles and not meet another car; where you can walk for over an hour and not meet another person; where you can have the whole of a sandy beach to yourself and sit in the warm sunshine eating your picnic, even in April; where you can stand in the biting wind and watch the aquamarine crystal clear water turn white as it crashes upon the rocks; where the wildlife claims its right to be there, because it was there first; where God abides.  You might have gathered by now that I am very fond of this far western corner of Scotland, however Hubby had never been so off we went and almost straight away he too fell in love with the place, in fact it didn’t take him long to declare that he could quiet happily live there.

So at the end of a long single track road, with the mountains behind, a sandy beach in front a rocky outcrop to the side and the Isle of Skye in the distance this development opportunity really caught our imagination.

Dusk in Argyll

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Photography, The UK

Friday Jaunt

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Photography, The UK

Yesterday with the Beef Stew in the Slow Cooker, Hubby and I headed off for the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond, in particular Luss.  Grabbing a picnic lunch we ate near the beach with a large group of ducks hopefully of some crumbs before heading for a walk along the beach.

Where we spotted this unusual fungi on a tree stump:

I have never come across anything like it before, beautiful.

It is hard to believe it is February, okay we both had scarfs on and when you got in the wind boy was it chilly, but still the sun was bright enough for me to get the sunglasses out and the sun and clouds played at making patterns on Ben Lomond.

Luss is a charming wee village that I used to visit often, but hadn’t been for a while, I hadn’t in fact realised that Hubby had never been at all, so I was looking forward to showing him Luss Parish church, unfortunately the church itself was shut so he had to manage on this occasion with a wander round the grave yard.  My ancestors have links with Luss, maybe that is why it always seems such a special place to me.

We wandered the quaint streets before Hubby refused a cup of tea – I know I was shocked too – and we headed back to the car.  We took the long way home arriving to the smell of beef stew awaiting us.  All in all a good day off.

 

Feeding Mission

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Photography, Religion, The UK

On our last visit to Argyll we actually stopped at a sweet little beach which in the past I had always driven past.  It turned out that although the beach itself is small the shellfish which live around it would appear to be very large if the shells of their deceased counterparts are to be believed.

As it is hard to see size in photographs so we put the cottage keys beside these clam shells:

while this picture shows that even Hubby’s giant hands could hardly hold this oyster shell:

Why this particular beach should have such a large amount of very large shells of all kinds I have no idea there is no industry near-by that might have unwittingly leached something out into the sea and caused this growth, neither is it one of the many areas in Argyll were there is fish farming going on, giving these shellfish an abundance of extra readily available food.  Nor was it just the clams and oysters that were large, there where mussels, welks and limpets all of bigger than usual size.

I was reminded of this beach today when I was thinking about church growth.  Sometimes it can be very difficult to know why any particular church does grow or another church doesn’t grow having ticked all the same mission boxes.  Church growth doesn’t automatically come about by following some formula or another, it is more about faithfully being the people of God in a living community.  That is what helps members of any congregation to grow as individuals, that is what becomes attractive to those who make that first tentative steps inside any church, that is the firm foundations on which a church can grow without danger of collapse.  That isn’t a formula that who we are by our baptism into being part of the body of Christ.  One thing I am certain of is that nutrients are needed, like any other living thing, congregations need to be fed if they are to grow.  I think mission will have an uphill struggle when it is taken as being something separate from the ongoing life of a congregation, I think it falters when it is used as a sticking plaster, and I think it out-and-out fails if it is only about invitation and not about nurture, nurture of those finding faith for the first time and nurture for those who have held their faith for many years.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’  A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’ He said to him the third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ And he said to him, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep.

John 21:15-17

What’s the Time?

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Castles, Photography, The UK

While on holiday time took on a new meaning and it had nothing to do with what the hands of a clock or watch had to say.

We had time to spend doing things that took as long or as short as they took.  It didn’t even really matter that for the first three days I was too ill to do anything much, time moved on but it also stood still.

We enjoyed life at a snail’s pace getting there when we got there.

Enveloped in the peace and tranquility of staying in an apartment overlooking Walmer Castle with use of the gardens of an evening.

It would be a pure joy to open the door and return.

But we can’t return, well not immediately at least.  I am sure Hubby will be posting plenty pictures and tales of our travels over on his blog, as for me, well good old time will tell.

St Mungo

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Photography, Saints, The UK

St Mungo

St Mungo is the patron saint of Glasgow, and appears on Glasgow’s coat of arms along with the bird that never flew, the fish that never swam, the bell that never rang and the tree that never grew.  These four items attributed to tales of Mungo.

Mungo was raised by St Serf who gave him the name Mungo meaning dear one, he is also known as Kentigern.  Serf had a pet robin which was killed by some of Mungo’s jealous classmates, Mungo is said to have brought it back to life, hence the bird.  The tree also has a connection with St Serf.  Mungo was supposed to be keeping the fire going in the monastery one night and fell asleep allowing the fire to go out.  It is said that Mungo put branches from a tree on the fire and it relit.  The bell represents one that Mungo brought to Glasgow from Rome and was rung at funerals to call together the mourners.  It is said that it couldn’t be found when Mungo died because God didn’t want the people of Glasgow to mourn Mungo’s death but rather to rejoice in his passage into heaven.  A bell, known as St Mungo’s bell, continued to be rung to mark deaths as late as 1578, however this one also appears to have dissapeared as the City Council commissioned a new St Mungo’s bell on 22nd October 1640 and it is this one that is still in Glasgow’s People’s Palace.

The story of the fish is probably the most well-known.  Queen Languoreth of Strathclyde had given a ring that her husband gave her to her lover.  King Riderch had seen the ring on her lovers finger and taken it from him and thrown it into the river Clyde before going back to confront his wife.  Queen Languoreth was distraught knowing that she would face certain death if she couldn’t produce the ring, and her distress grew when she discovered what had happened to it, she went to Mungo to plead for his help.  What kind of help she went to plead for I do not know, but surely she didn’t expect what followed.  Mungo pulled a salmon out of the Clyde and in its mouth was the ring.

You can see Glasgow’s coat of arms here, the motto at the foot has been abbreviated, the full version is – Lord, let Glasgow flourish through the preaching of the word and the praising of your name.

Stoneleigh Abbey

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Historical Buildings, Jane Austen, Photography, The UK

While on holiday recently we stumbled across Stoneleigh Abbey although the original Abbey is no longer around and some  parts of the building are in private hands and can not be viewed, you can take a tour around the lower floor of the Georgian part of the building and walk around the stunning grounds.

Stoneleigh Abbey

Little did we know when we found the building that we would be walking in the footsteps of Jane Austen.  I have long been a fan of Jane Austen but didn’t know of her links to Stoneleigh Abbey before we arrived.  However, once we toured the building and heard her own mother’s words about the impression the building and it’s inhabitants had on her (from letters she wrote during their stay), it was as if pages from Jane’s novels were jumping out at me.   For 400 years Stoneleigh Abbey was the country seat of Jane Austen’s relatives, the Leighs. In August 1806 Jane, with her mother and sister, travelled to Stoneleigh Abbey in the company of her mother’s cousin, Reverend Thomas Leigh, to secure his inheritance of the estate.

The grounds too could have easily been inspiration for Jane, looking across the Avon, whose course had been altered to make for a more pleasing view it was almost like looking up Box Hill.

Stoneleigh Abbey from Bridge over River Avon

Stoneleigh Abbey Gardens

The Gatehouse is an architectural reminder that this is much more than a Georgian house.

Stoneleigh Abbey Gate House

Far From Plain Planes

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Avro Vulcan B2, Fairey Gannet, Folland Gnat, The UK

Hubby over on his blog has posted about our trip to the Midlands Air Museum but he didn’t have pictures of one of the exhibits in particular that I do have so.  Go over to his blog to read about some of the planes and below you will see the Avro Vulcan B2 which as Hubby said was real treat to be able to go inside, plus a couple of other things he didn’t post.

Vulcan Indentification Plate

Rear Flight Deck Of Vulcan

Rear Flight Deck

Bomb Site on Rear Flight Deck

Flight Deck

Flight Deck

You could also peer in the bomb bay …

Bomb Bay

there was also a blue steel stand off bomb which would have been carried in the bomb bay, however the rear fin was too large to fit in with the doors closed so the underneath fan was folded back until the bomb doors opened.

Blue Steel Stand Off Bomb

One of the sweetest little planes in the world was hiding under the Vulcan’s wing.  The Vulcan was too cumbersome to defend itself so it could carry a gnat under the wing and then discharge it to chase any enemy planes.  No way for any pilot to get from the Vulcan to the Gnat so would probably have been a very scary ride for any pilot if it had ever actually happened.

Folland Gnat xk741 under Avro Vulcan B2 wing

The Royal Navy’s version of contra rotating tassels was also there the Fairey Gannet with its twin contra rotating blades.

Fairey Gannet T2 508 01

However I think Hubby had most fun playing in the Gloster Meteor Mk8 cockpit, then it actually got to press the buttons, flick the switches, push the peddles and wiggle the joystick.

Hubby Playing Pilot

Conwy Castle

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Castles, Photography, The UK

Conway Castle is another of Edward I’s castles in Wales and the last one we visited, before heading out of Wales.  Its construction began in 1283 and it was one of the very few Edwards’ Welsh castles that were completed in an incredible 4 years, however, maybe short cuts were taken as the massive stone arches which are still standing where added later to strengthen the roof and stop it falling in.

Conwy Castle with Great Hall Arch

Built on a craggy out crop with water on three sides it has imposing walls…

Conwy Castle Walls

with three bridges to reach it, from left to right the road bridge, the orginional castle bridge and the rail bridge …

Bridges to Conwy

Around the landward side are the meandering town walls.

Conwy Town Walls

Like Beaumaris Castle, Conwy Castle’s Chapel was still obvious with a grand apse.

Conwy Castle Chapel

Again we didn’t have long at Conwy Castle, although in this instance I don’t think we will go out of our way to visit again.  In my view the castle just wasn’t special enough to endure the birds and their mess again, although if I was in the area I would be tempted to take a wander around the town walls.