Shetland V: Sheep Doggin’

Pip!

The next day of our Shetland Wool Week experience dawned and our first stop was another farm tour. This involved another bus ride. This time we did not have a guide, so the bus driver took it upon himself to give us the tour. This was especially entertaining for me because we passed a lot of the same things and covered the same ground, but from a different perspective. I thought of this as the “buttonologist” tour and it was charming. Nothing too crazy here, did you know loch above Lerwick provides most of the water for Shetland? Or that Shetland produces most of Scotland’s mussels and half of its salmon?

Pip is in the back at the end of the gif.

The drive eventually brought us to Uradale Farm. The sheep side of things were run by Ross, who was very nice. The most exciting part was Ross rounding up some of his sheep into the pen for us to admire, but of course it wasn’t Ross who round up the sheep but Pip the sheep dog. It is always amazing to see sheep dogs at work, just utterly locked in. A little trivia for ya is that they told us you always want your sheep dog to have a single-syllable name. This has to do with the commands you’re going to give the dogs apparently. Another piece of trivia is that Pip is very much a sweetie, who enjoyed getting some ear scratches as much as we loved giving them.

Ross’s story is that he found he couldn’t compete with the wool and meat producers when he first started off 30 years ago. You’re up against these giant industrial farms, and if you’re dedicated to Shetland sheep you are at a major disadvantage. Shetland sheep are much smaller than the mainland breeds, which means they produce less meat and less wool. And the wool they produce can be less desirable, what for being multi-colored. So Ross took the other path, raising his sheep organically and catering to much more bespoke places like fancy restaurants for the meat. I think he said he started off with 12 acres but now has 1200, but I wonder if that’s not actually such a great sign; with farming being less desirable the farms naturally wind up consolidating with the people that want to keep farming. I suppose that is the same for agriculture everywhere.

After our outside demonstrations we went on inside for lunch and more chatting abut yarn. One factor here I’ll highlight is that with Jamieson’s being such a force on the island, every other yarn-adjacent thing kinda makes digs at ‘em? The confusingly-named-for-familial-reasons-but-entirely-different-shop Jamieson & Smith has a sign out front of their place that says “Home of Real Shetland Wool.” Here at Uradale it was Ross saying about naming their yarns, “I don’t like names like 1234 something.” Instead they name their yarns after things from Shetland, like the deep layer of peat for the black yarn. Also interesting to note here that they use the same dyes on the different natural colors of the wool off the sheep which provides a whole wide range of different color ways.

This brought us to the stunning discovery that Ross’s wife Viveka aka Dr. Velupillai is a linguistics professor who came to Shetland to study the language. Ross is in fact bilingual, speaking both English and the Shetland dialect. So her whole project was studying and preserving and promoting the language and diving deep into Shetland’s culture. Which made her another Shetland import so yeah man people seem to show up to the island and fall in love and make it their whole life. Married to your work. One of Dr. Velupillai’s efforts is I Hear Dee, which has resources on the language. She gave us the low-down on the various languages that have come to Shetland and how they evolved into the local language and that is super cool. She also designs knitting patterns for her yarns. And then finally they also had a project on display where they recreated an authentic vararfelður, and you could tell it was authentic because of the smell. My super amazing wife walked away from Uradale with yarn for a shawl.

We also spotted some of Ross’s Shetland cows on a faraway hill.

To pad out this blog post and also because I talked about people taking digs at Jamieson’s two paragraphs ago, I will fast forward to the evening when we attended a talk from Jamieson’s. We had been disappointed that we couldn’t nab tickets for the mill tour so this was the next best thing. The talk was mostly about the spinning process, which wasn’t too surprising, though he talked a lot about what a hassle it is to do the dyeing. They’ve brought this upon themselves. One of the big things about Jamieson’s is that they have 220 different colors of yarn. They can’t reduce this number at all because sometimes their commercial customers will want them to recreate stuff and so they need the color. They apparently export the majority of their stuff to Japan. And by “stuff” I mean machine-knit Fair Isle sweaters, so now I know what to keep a lookout for if we ever get to Japan. Though Jamieson’s has started doing blended yarns to get some of their colorways instead of doing it purely with dye, which is simpler in some ways, and avoids some easy ways to make mistakes. A final fun fact is that while we were visiting they had done an exclusive limited-time color, i.e. they had messed up a batch when dyeing. Then the second half of the talk was from Gudrun Johnston, the Brand Director for Simply Shetland. A big part of the talk was how being the Brand Director had changed her perspectives on designing, which seemed to involve designing things with colors they had a lot of and avoiding the colors they didn’t have a lot of.

All in all a very interesting talk and the Jamieson’s folks seemed like good people. But the biggest thing we’ve learned so far is that if you want Shetland yarn, there is actually not shortage of options to choose from.

Just a beautiful Shetland view.

Shetland IV: Wool Sourcing

Reading this week:

  • An Outline of Shetland Archaeology by John Stewart

As my super amazing wife describes it there can be a divide between the wool-producing community and the wool-using community. She loves wool in all its forms and her parents also raise sheep, so she bridges the divide, but I am always a little amazed at knitters who don’t quite know how sheep work and farmers who don’t quite know how yarn works. One thing my super amazing wife therefore really appreciated is how much wool week worked to highlight the sheep producers to bring both sides of this industry together. And so our main activity for the day was a history-spanning tour of Old Scatness Broch and Laxdale Farm.

One anecdote before we really begin is that as my super amazing wife and I were milling around in the museum parking lot waiting for the tour bus, a lady spotted me and asked me if I could help put her car in reverse. Clearly rank sexism as I was the only man in the parking lot. But I did in fact know how to put her car in reverse because I drive a DeLorean and so I knew that sometimes you have to move the stick shift in the z direction. I felt like a hero. But before long we were off on the tour bus for the broch! We had a lovely tour guide, yet another import to Shetland herself, who gave us the rundown on everything we passed as we took the long drive down to the very southern tip of the mainland. She talked about how lovely she found Shetland, and how no one ever locked their doors. “How else would Amazon put the packages in your house,” she asked, while also noting she had never even gotten around to asking her landlord for the key to the backdoor of her house. We were also interested to learn that while there are elementary schools spread throughout the isles, for high school the government finds it cheaper to board students in Lerwick during the week and shuttle them back home every weekend than have a more decentralized system.

We arrived at Old Scatness having crossed the airport runway to get there. The site is right next to the runway so we would pause occasionally as a plane landed. The site would normally have been closed when we visited but Wool Week had put together a special tour, stunningly with the lead archeologist of the site herself. She had been working the site for 30 years. She describes being a young archeologist and her boss walking in one day and telling her “I bought you a broch” and she was like “why would you do that, no one studies those anymore.” But they have done some phenomenal archeology on the site, as it was utterly pristine before they figured out that natural hill wasn’t when they were putting in a road there. Significantly, the dating they did there proved that brochs originated in Shetland before moving down to Scotland, instead of the other way around as thought previously. They also found a cool Pictish carving of a bear.

It was indeed a really special tour. They are still working on stabilizing the site enough to let the general public sorta wander around unsupervised, so with our guide we got to scramble over some otherwise un-scrambleable spots. She didn’t have any solid answers on why all these brochs were built in the first place, but said it was best to think of them as castles which served several purposes. She also had a joke I didn’t quite have the archeological background to get that it was the Macedonians who built them because the timelines lined up. The wool connection is that they had found counterweight stones from looms still in situ. Apparently the looms took careful balance so once you were done weaving you could typically just cut the stones off so the order wouldn’t get mixed up and leave them there until the next time you took up weaving. Someone had cut these stones off and not picked the weaving back up, so they were still sitting there a millennia or so later.

Recreated stone age loom in the Old Scatness Broch visitor center.

From there we fast-forwarded only a couple of centuries to Laxdale Farm to see what this sheep thing was all about. Although we had seen some Shetland sheep the previous day this was our first up-close look at a more money-making farm system. It was a lot of fun. Upon our arrival we split into two groups, and our group first went off to look at the sheep. Our guide for this portion, the husband of the operation, showed us around the barn and told us lots about sheep breeding. I wrote that down in my journal but don’t recall much about how to breed sheep, having been too distracted by the sheep. We also learned about the grazing system, where each farm or croft would have associated rights to graze so many sheep up on the “hel,” or peatlands. And then finally he showed us how to skirt the wool once it was sheared and what he was looking for in a fleece. I found all these Shetlanders funny though hard to tell if they meant to be. One lady asked him how he felt about his wife going into the yarn business, and in response he gave us a look and said “well you support your wife.” Pretty funny, but doubly so when our group went inside and his wife told us the yarn was his idea in the first place. Triply funny when you consider that told us also that he doesn’t even know how the yarn was made, in a callback to my first paragraph there.

The next stop, as was typical in these tours, was inside for refreshments. They gave us coffee and some wonderful brownies, and then the wife Sheila told us all about her yarns. For anyone who wanted to walk away with some yarn (i.e. everyone on the tour), one of their rooms had been converted into a whole yarn shop. All the stuff produced and sold on the islands was indeed gorgeous, though interesting that there wasn’t really a place for small-batch processing on Shetland. You could sell your wool to Jamieson’s, who spins the wool and produces and dyes their own yarn, but if you’re an operation like Laxdale you have to ship the wool down to Scotland to have it spun and then it comes back up to Shetland.

And with that it was back on to Lerwick where we spent the afternoon wandering around. We had dinner reservations and a talk to go to. We checked out The Shetland Times Bookshop and wandered through Fort Charlotte. In the bookshop my super amazing wife bought some cookbooks, which is very on-brand. Eventually I realized I was feeling a bit queasy from only having eaten some brownies since breakfast and I got a sandwich as an appetizer for dinner, which was at The Dowry and great.

Then it was time for our talk, which was An Evening with the Doulls. The Doulls being of course that year’s Wool Week Patrons. When my super amazing wife talked about highlighting wool producers this is actually what she was talking about. The first part of the evening was a short documentary on the Doulls, which again I think was unintentionally very funny. Like there was a talking head moment in the documentary where the interviewee was saying “the Doulls have been raising Shetland sheep to the highest standard for generations” with an immediate smash cut to the Doull patriarch there with a pamphlet saying “here’s the standard” (referring to the standard book, which he helped write as an early member of the Shetland Sheep Society). As an insight into the wool trade, we also learned that all the Doulls need other jobs as well, despite owning something like four islands on which they graze sheep.

After the documentary they had a question-and-answer portion with the Doulls themselves. Seeing the stars of the show man, a Hollywood moment. It was a very charming portion of the evening because of how refreshing it was to see people with absolutely no media training. People were asking things like “how do you know it’s a good fleece” (the documentary talked extensively about how good the Doulls fleeces are, or at least the fleeces of their sheep anyway) and our patriarch there was like “well, uh… you know it when you see it.” Raw, uncut, beautiful. An inspiring part of this is that grandma, the matriarch, had a stroke a few years back and doesn’t have great use of her left arm anymore, but was still able to knit through the use of the traditional Shetland makkin’ belt. These were originally developed to let Shetland women knit while carrying giant baskets of peat, so as to maximize productivity, so very cool really they’re still useful. She was still very capable of making some of that gorgeous lace work (and fast!) we had seen in the museum. Though finally, with the Doulls worn out by their jampacked schedule of media appearances, and my super amazing wife and I worn out from a day full of wool production, it was time to turn in for the night.

Shetland III: The Museum

Reading this week:

  • Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
  • The Africa House by Christina Lamb

Our first taste of Wool Week under our belt, it was time to learn more about Shetland itself and this brought us to the Shetland Museum & Archives.

The museum entrance.

As mentioned last time, the museum was the home base for Wool Week, so there was a knitting room and if your event had a bus it picked you up there and the Wool Week swag store was there (they had very nice tote bags). It is also a very, very nice museum. Extremely well done and packed with artifacts from throughout Shetland’s history, from the geological underpinnings of the island to the modern-day economy. It’s also a very appropriate home base for Wool Week, because of its vast collection of knitting history.

For example while we were there the special exhibit they had was Chris Morphet, ALLOVER. Chris there, a man of fine taste, noticed all the Fair Isle knitwear in London back in the ‘70s and so started documenting it. The exhibition therefore was of all his pictures of Fair Isle knitwear and the way people wore it. It is fantastic stuff, and useful for a wide range of applications.

One thing I didn’t quite learn until the very tail end of the week, though it is covered some in the museum, the Shetland’s knitwear industry has always been export-driven. Like, okay, it is cold in Shetland and so people find sweaters very useful, but starting at least back in the 15th century fishermen associated with the Hanseatic League would use Lerwick harbor to salt all the fish they were catching. The Shetlanders would sell them stuff, including knitwear, and so there is a long history of Shetlanders spending all their spare time knitting so as to sell knitwear to visitors. The Fair Isle pattern evolved for the export market, and the designs don’t have any particular known meaning. Fashion baby.

But that’s towards the end of the museum. The beginning of the museum is all pre-history. Shetland has always been at a crossroads, seeing as it is equidistant-ish from a variety of places, and the gulf stream means that while it gets very blustery it never gets like way too cold (it’s way too cold for me most of the time but you know for the kind of people who live on Shetland it’s nice). The upswing of that is that Shetland has been settled for a very long time, and resettled several times, and so you can go to a place like Jarlshof (which we did) and see literally layers of history all stacked on top of each other.

An art installation in front of the museum.

One of the most vibrant layers you see day-to-day is the Norse and Scottish history. Shetland was originally settled probably by Pictish people (or the people that would become Picts), but then eventually the Vikings came and took over. Shetland has signs up all over the place telling you what the name of the place means in old Norse. The Vikings were apparently very uncreative; “Lerwick” means “muddy bay.” Most of the names are like that. But then Christian I, King of Norway, pledged Shetland against the dowry he was going to pay when he married his daughter Margaret off to James III of Scotland. Christian never paid the dowry so Shetland was the dowry and the islands were Scottish once more. This was 1470 and it is still a thing they talk about all the time. During the week we had a lovely dinner at The Dowry, for example. This is of course strange to our American sensibilities; I am from Maryland we fought a war with Pennsylvania that one time but you never hear us talk about it.

Anyways, I keep straying from the museum. Like I said it is great. They have bog butter (!), and again old food is one of my favorites types of museum artifacts and this was my first bog butter to boot. And they have all sorts of stone age and bronze age and iron age implements, and examples of houses, and boats! So many boats. They like boats in Shetland, being an island, and also descended from Vikings. The traditional Shetland boats are descended from Viking boats too.

Look at that lace!

And then that brings us upstairs where they talk about all the industry of Shetland, which is a lot of fishing, and then more textiles! Besides regular ole’ knitting, the other most impressive textile export of Shetland is lace! Not true lace, as Wikipedia has just told me, but extremely fine knitted lacewear that is just so remarkably impressive. I saw some weaving of it and I just don’t know how they do it. That has got to take a lifetime of skill to master and the pieces they had on display are just so, so impressive. The height of fashion before I think even Fair Isle knitting was so man there you go.

The bay at Hillswick outside the Murmuration exhibit; sorry no photos of the inside.

And like, from there the day wasn’t even done! We hadn’t even checked into the inn yet! After the museum and some lunch we went over to the Wool Week craft fair where people had all sorts of stuff on display, and then drove back north again to go to Vidlin where there was another craft fair, and then the final exhibit we saw for the day was another tapestry! As part of Wool Week the absolutely gorgeous Murmuration Collaboration was on display. This was a series of tapestries, all made by different weavers around the world, coming together to display one long image of murmuration over a landscape. Like so many tapestries we had seen on this trip it was unbelievably stunning in person, with such intricate technique to depict the birds (and their murmuration) themselves. And this was I think the first time it came all together. Very much worth the drive.

And lo, with that, the day finally came to its end. We picked up some salads at Tesco for dinner and finally checked on into our inn.

Shetland II: Wool Week Begins

Reading this week:

  • Ancient Africa by Christopher Ehret

Now to the nitty-gritty of Wool Week. Shetland Wool Week as I understand it is a relatively young addition (only 16 years old) to the worldwide wool circuit. It is definitely popular and is probably at this point pushing the capacity of Shetland. We only lucked into a hotel room; the place we booked had just reopened so we managed to nab a room by sheer chance (it was an absolutely lovely place by the way, The Westings inn run by David, who gave us all sorts of tips and made sure we had breakfast every morning and got us croissants in between his half a dozen other jobs on the island). Other places I emailed told me they were booked two years out for Wool Week. And this isn’t even tourist season; Wool Week by design is scheduled in the off-peak times. It overlapped the end of September and beginning of October, and some places, like the Sumburgh Head Lighthouse’s visitor center or the ferry to Mousa Broch, in fact close down starting October 1. We also lucked into good weather, as the whole week was gorgeous but apparently the previous one was terrible (we had heard this everywhere in the UK).

The view from The Westings, gorgeous at all times of day.

The Wool Week folks also go to great lengths to build a community. There are online events and a Facebook group and it behooves you to be in them. Although we rented a car for the week, many people are relying on public transportation or carpools to get around (many ticketed events have dedicated busses from Lerwick), and those are arranged in those groups beforehand. During Wool Week itself, they set up a crafting and rest space in the Shetland Museum & Archives, which serves as the home base for Wool Week. There you can also arrange those same car pools as well as swap tickets for the various Wool Week events. Since everything is so popular you have to get tickets for events and classes online beforehand, which all go on sale at the same time. This was the only frustrating part of the experience really, as the organization tries to update its tools to meet demand. We did not get the exact tickets we wanted due to a website glitch, which upset me deeply at the time, but the Wool Week people were very kind indeed.

So that’s the setup. Meanwhile we had just gotten into our rental car, weren’t set to check into the hotel until the afternoon (it was early enough in the morning that even the metropolis of Lerwick hadn’t really woken up yet), and my super amazing wife had not had breakfast. That meant we embarked on the most perilous of all possible activities right away: getting breakfast at the local café. Don’t worry, we managed to survive, getting a table, eating breakfast, and I think managing not to annoy the staff or locals too much. It was also very cheap to boot. The most entertaining part was overhearing another restaurant owner comment about how this year he was going to be prepared for all the vegetarians among the Wool Week crowds.

Walls harbor from the Regatta Club.

But now it was time to meet some of those Wool Weekers ourselves. They were easy to spot throughout the week; every year Wool Week comes out with a special hat pattern beforehand so my super amazing wife and knitted some up for us, and everyone else is wearing the same pattern in different colors. Our first day we didn’t have any ticketed events planned, but there were plenty of open workshops to go to. The very first one we went to was The Wooly Wyvern. They make really nice socks on a hand-cranked circular knitting machine. They have both socks made from Shetland wool meant mostly for indoor use (the Shetland wool is fine and soft but less durable than other breeds, apparently) along with sturdier versions. But the real fun is getting there, bounding over the Shetland roads to a town on the very tip of one of Shetland’s little peninsulas. We parked at the Walls Regatta Club and then had to open the gate to the Wyvern owner’s backyard to get to their workshop. This was a theme throughout Wool Week, because so much of the wool and knitting industry in Shetland happens in people’s homes and backyards. In this backyard we learned some about sock knitting and then picked up socks as gifts for our relatives in cooler climes.

Look at those cuties.

And then it was off to the next backyard! This was The Silly Sheep Fibre Company, which truly was an inspiration. Throughout our time in Shetland we were meeting a whole lot of people not from there who had moved there (though they were mostly married to Shetlanders to be fair). The Silly Sheepers here had set up what amounted to a retirement homestead with a bunch of sheep. Many of these they were given. The wife of the couple apparently has a big soft heart and so nearby farmers will give her baby lambs from their flocks when their mothers reject them (parenthood isn’t for everyone). You have to bottle-feed these lambs, and it isn’t worth it for most farmers. This was our first glimpse of Shetland sheep as well, and boy those guys are a treat. They are so small! This makes them hardy and able to survive the Shetland winters all on their own, and also makes them easy to handle because you can just like pick ‘em up (I mean they’re not like cat-sized but as far as sheep go they are small). This also means they produce less wool and meat but they are still very very cute, even for sheep. The husband explained this all to us while we admired his flock, and then we went into their little shop to check out the selection of home-grown wool products, which set us up already for the archetypal Wool Week experience. But don’t worry, there is a lot more to come.

One sheep against the world.

Shetland I: The Ferry

Our trusty steed.

We were finally approaching our final Scottish destination: Shetland! As alluded to several times over the course of this series, the primary reason we had gone to the UK was to go to Shetland Wool Week. We had also had some friends who had gone to Shetland, so were excited to see the rest of the place too. But first we had to get there. I left you, dear reader, as my super amazing wife and I were jumping the car and departing Inverness. We had about a two-hour drive ahead of us to Aberdeen, where we would catch the ferry to Shetland. We could have taken a flight to get to Shetland, but I pushed us towards the boat. I was looking forward to spending an overnight at sea and we sprung for the cabin instead of confining ourselves to chairs.

We almost didn’t make it. I should have looked more closely at a map and the locally available transportation options. We had a rental car we had to drop off at the airport and turns out the airport is not at all near the ferry terminal. I was stressed from driving down all the tiny little two-lane roads on the route the GPS took us between Inverness and Aberdeen, and my super amazing wife was stressed because we were looking at the clock and realizing this was going to be close no matter what. But we arrived at the car rental place and jumped on out, forgetting my super amazing wife’s sunglasses in the process (the rental place later emailed us to say we could pick up the sunglasses at our leisure, but we were, you know, in Shetland). We were planning on getting an Uber, but turns out you can’t get a ride share from the Aberdeen airport.

Majestic!

Okay, no matter, we just got in the taxi line. The very long taxi line. And waited a few minutes. And no taxi came. Not great! And then the taxi lady came out and said no taxis were coming anytime soon. This had us very stressed and we had no real time to spare. So we shuffled on down with all of our baggage and the rest of the people in the taxi line to the bus stop, with no real indication of when the bus was going to come either. But then! Our savior! A taxi appeared! With everyone else distracted at the bus stop my super amazing wife and I ran on down with all our bags to claim the taxi and we were on our way! We arrived at the ferry with time to spare but seem to have been some of the last to board.

I left the photo crooked so you could experience what we did.

And so we were onboard our chariot, the MV Hjaltland. We unpacked in our spacious cabin (spacious after the Caledonian Sleeper anyway) and settled in. Despite our very anxious time getting there I was even anxious-er to explore the ship, so we went off to poke around. It is super cool. It’s got a gift shop and a bar and a movie theater. As soon as we were underway I insisted we go up and see the deck before it got too dark and we were too far at sea, dragging my super amazing wife away from her tea to do it. The views were gorgeous man, the open sea, the offshore wind farm, the wind in your face, fantastic.

Things were soon not so fantastic though. After we descended down from the weather deck we got in line for dinner. My super amazing wife was starting to feel not so great from the rocking the boat was already experiencing. I thought some food would help, but not really. It made her feel worse though it made me feel better for a bit. We returned to our cabin and although she avoided puking she was soon confined to her rack. I wasn’t far behind. Before long I, too, was seasick. This was a major blow to my ego. My time as a landlubber has made me weak.  I spent a few hours listening to podcasts and feeling nauseous but did eventually recover enough to have a fairly comfortable night.

Shetland at dawn.

The next morning I got up early to have a rather nice shower actually in our ensuite and then explore the boat some more. Back up on the top of the ship I caught my first glimpse of Shetland. I always like the first glimpse of a distant land by sea. I remember my first sight of Australia from the submarine, easing up over the horizon its long and low shores. With my stomach feeling better I also got some very good breakfast. It included a banana though, and maybe that was the root cause of all my troubles. We docked before long and so it was back to the cabin to pack and then unload. I think we were some of the last ones off. No matter, because that meant the car hire lady was easy to find. She ran us through the info, with a stern warning that although we had the comprehensive insurance coverage, that still did not cover the car doors being ripped off by strong winds. Quite the introduction to Shetland! But we were glad to be there, safe, sound, dry, and with a new set of wheels.

Welcome aboard!

Inverness

Inverness from the river.

Reading this week:

  • No Man’s Land by John Heminway

Our adventures in Skye loom large enough in my memory that I am somewhat surprised in going back through my journal that after only two nights we were already departing. We packed up and got on the road only to quickly meet our first obstacle: a gaggle of guineafowl blocking the road. My super amazing wife eventually had to get out and shoo them away. She reported that there was a sheep dog fenced into the bordering yard who was absolutely locked in on the flock. Very cute.

We cruised on down to Broadford for some final shopping, first into Love from Skye, where my super amazing wife to my chagrin did not try on any rings (I was hoping to find out what her size was in that shop with their strange UK ring size system). But she is swayed only by yarn and not by precious jewels so it was across the street at The Handspinner Having Fun where her eyes really lit up. They had a lot of tempting stuff there, including hand-knit sweaters and multicolor Harris yarn. Per usual I didn’t get anything but she added more yarn to her stash.

Loch Ness; do you see Nessie???

And shortly after that we were off Skye, heading back across the country to make it to Inverness, our last overnight location on the Scottish mainland. Along the way we cruised on by Loch Ness. I remember visiting Urquhart Castle and at least one of the museums dedicated to Nessie last time I was in Scotland. Alas, this time around we weren’t able to visit the castle (we couldn’t reserve parking) though we did stop into Drumnadrochit for some lunch and to pick up some obligatory Loch Ness souvenirs. My most significant personal discovery was that Loch Ness is big. I didn’t have to do the driving last time but we were cruising on by that lake for a while. Towards the north end we stopped at a turn-off to admire it for a bit, though we didn’t see Nessie.

The kirkyard.

And soon we were in Inverness. We did not have a great deal planned. In the evening the highlight was visiting Leakey’s Bookshop, which is charmingly creaky. I hope they take that as a compliment; I walked out of there with two different books on Africa. Then there was dinner at a local Chinese place, which mixed the surreal experience of eating British Chinese food with the discovery that most people were in fact ordering fish & chips. How much we still had to learn about the culture of this strange and exotic country.

The next morning we awoke and had a massive breakfast, strange only because we had it at Wee Wild Pancakes. My super amazing wife and I both had “Banoffee Pie,” except her in crepe form and me in pancake form, though neither of us could finish it. What we had anticipated being a slow day was unfolding ahead of us, so we did some low-key Inverness sightseeing, checking out the Kirkyard (upon review of that article man that place is ancient!) and then taking a walk up the River Ness. That seems like a very nice little river. As we walked around my super amazing wife kept spotting mini-Nessies (cormorants) until eventually we came to the finish line of a marathon, and spotted Nessie herself!

Our final stop in Inverness was into the Inverness Museum & Art Gallery, attracted as we were by the low low price of free (I gave them a donation). It was in fact really nice and you should make time to stop in. We enjoyed an art exhibit they had going on but what I liked the best was all the neolithic artifacts. And then all the Pictish stones! Last time I was in Scotland my grandpa had my mom drive him all around the northern bit of Scotland to look at various Pictish stones. I tagged along, and I remember that being a really great day. So that was nice to revisit some memories, as we hadn’t been able to get up to any of the stones during this trip. Next time we’re in Inverness I’ll have to dedicate more time to the museum and also read a book on those Jacobites. They seem like they were super passionate about their cause.

And from there we packed up in our rental car and head on out to catch the ferry to Shetland!

Skye II: Loops

Reading this week:

  • The Message by Ta-Nehisi Coates
  • The Niger Sources by Lieut.-Col. J.K. Trotter, R.A.
  • Journal of the First Voyage of Vasco da Gama to India, 1497-1499

Having gotten all the castles out of the way, we awoke on Skye for a full day of driving around looking at various things. Our first destination was quite close to where we were staying, the illustrious Skye Weavers. Before going on these trips we like to get the associated guidebook for inspiration and research purposes. We knew that textiles were going to be a major goal of the trip, seeing as the real reason we were in the UK at all was to go to Shetland Wool Week. So I was surprised to discover that I think in all of the Lonely Planet guide to the UK (I can’t check because we abandoned it in Shetland for weight concerns) it doesn’t mention textiles once. Lots and lots of suggestions for whiskey distilleries but not a lick of advice for those that want to see fibers turned into orderly masses of fibers.

So we had to forge our own way and that had brought us to Skye Weavers. It is a small operation. We had been disappointed that we wouldn’t be able to get to the Outer Hebrides to see the weavers making Harris Tweed, but Skye Weavers scratched that same itch. They have the same sort of setup, but aren’t Harris Tweed because Skye is not the Outer Hebrides. But you knew that, as did I. What I didn’t know was how recent the whole paradigm is. To be Harris Tweed the weaver has to be operating out of their own home and only use human power to weave it. What I hadn’t realized is this is the result of the Harris Tweed Act of 1993. Like I thought it was going to be 1883 and people had been using these super sweet pedal-powered looms forever. Not so much! The pedal power came into being once people needed a way (besides using electricity) to up production and also have wider production (like wider bolts of cloth).

Sorry I didn’t actually get a lot of shots of the workshop, guess you’ll have to visit yourself.

All this was explained to us by the very nice man at Skye Weavers who spends his entire day being interrupted from his weaving to explain this to tourists. My super amazing wife had a go at the pedals and frankly I want one of these looms. They are super neat. They don’t use a shuttle but instead have this mechanism that cuts the thread and pulls it across which lets you use the thread directly off the spool instead of winding it onto a bobbin. ALSO! The machines use punch cards, which the weavers (at Skye Weavers anyway) program themselves; they buy the punch card stock and then uh punch the cards. So that is super cool. After this whole explanation we went up to their little shop and my super amazing wife and I both bought scarves for our respective moms and sisters and a blanket for ourselves.

And from there we proceeded on a day of driving around Skye which is a great way to spend a day, you should do it too. We stopped into Portree to have lunch at Lower Deck (great), admire the boats in the harbor, and check out a few shops. Fortified, we head out to do a counter-clockwise loop of Skye’s upper peninsula, just drinking in all the gorgeous views. Among those views were our first highland cows! They are a lot less common along the main roads in Scotland than I thought they would be, lemme tell ya. I had been bothering my super amazing wife for months saying “heelin’ coos” all the time but now she is the one with multiple highland cows (fake ones) around the house. We stopped to take photos, along with everyone else that passed by. We also of course visited the Shilasdair yarn shop that focused on natural dyes using materials from Skye, where my biggest surprise is that heather makes like a golden yarn instead of purple? Chemistry man, beautiful.

Anyway from there we went to Kilt Rock and Mealt Falls where we were getting sprayed even in the parking lot. It was real windy! I think most of the water went back up on the cliff instead of down into the ocean. We tried to take a few pictures but were mostly getting splashed, but it was very fun. In slightly less wet spots though, the whole skyline out there on that edge of the world is just gorgeous, the whitecaps coming into the bay bordered by a rocky shore. Magnificent.

Falling up.

We also had to (i.e. I made us) pop into the tiny little Staffin Dinosaur Museum, which has rusting farm equipment outside, a stegosaurus over the door, and the first dinosaur fossil discovered in Scotland inside. A nice man ambles up when you wander in to take your entry fee, and then leaves you to admire the bevy of dinosaur tracks they have on display. They also have off on one side a variety of artifacts from Skye life, including a bog shoe. Too bad they don’t allow photographs but I did get a postcard for my brother.

From there a few more stops rounded out our day on Skye. There was Uig Pottery, where we got a cute little highland cow figurine I mentioned above. Then of course there was Gilleasbuig Ferguson Books which was a super fun little stop. They specialize in Skye/Highland/Gaelic books, though they have other interesting stuff as well (I got an Alan Villiers book The Western Ocean). The fun part is that it is a little outbuilding next to the owner’s house and feels like the place where you might dig up a real gem. A couple more little shops and though we pondered joining the many, many hikers which held up traffic a little bit on the one-lane roads my super amazing wife know ourselves and our interests. So we picked up a pizza and after returning to our little place on Skye we settled in for the night, though we did remember to admire the stars.

Skye I: Castles in the

Off to fight the Frasers.

Departing the David Livingstone Birthplace museum, we still had a long drive ahead of us to Skye. That night we stopped off at Fort Williams, and on the way there were treated to stunning view after stunning view. Every time we stopped to get out of the car and take pictures we felt very silly because another kilometer down the road would be a view even more stunning and dramatic. We pulled into Fort Williams with just enough time to visit the Highland Soap Company and buy some Highland Lotion. On the way to their parking lot you can admire Inverlochy Castle, but we could only admire it from afar because it was undergoing some stabilization at the time. Instead of having a big night out we had a very British night in, picking up a variety of microwavable fare from Aldi and settling on in.

How do they do it.

The next day we continued our journey to Skye, once again stopping to take in all the stunning views. We stopped at one point in a little parking area to take pictures of the clouds over a loch and it was ridiculous man, it should be illegal to be that pretty. There was also a food truck called “Burger Queen” and I got a coffee from them mostly in appreciation of their name. The road eventually brought us to one of the more famous sights in Scotland: the Eilean Donan Castle.

We went because of course you have to go. It is not too big though, constrained as it is by the island it sits on. We sprung to take the inside tour, and I was surprised to learn that despite its long history the castle as it stands today is pretty much a 20th century reconstruction. As I was enjoying a haggis sandwich in their café I wondered if Lt. Col. John MacRae-Gilstrap’s vision in restoring it included a visitors’ center and gift shop. The inside of the castle is very cozy though, it seems like a great sorta loch-side cabin. Around the outside they have signs with QR codes to link you to more information about the local lore and wildlife, my favorite one being about the Boobries (heh heh). It’s gotta be a little bit weird though, that it was a stronghold for the Clans Mackenzie and MacRae and is now most famous for being the home of Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. This fact is discussed neither at Eilean Donan nor Dunvegan Castle.

Me (and also Dunvegan Castle).

Dunvegan Castle of course being not only the actual seat of the MacLeod of MacLeod, chief of the Clan MacLeod, but our next destination. After Eilean we finally, finally drove the final bit of the way to Skye and Dunvegan was our first destination. Despite having made my super amazing wife watch Highlander, neither of us were really actually all that into any of the MacLeodiness of either site and were in fact visiting Dunvegan primarily for their seal tours. This is where Bob the seal tour skipper and wildlife photographer takes you out on the Loch and gets you up close to the colonies of seals on the estate. But tickets in hand we had some time before boarding, so why not we visited the castle.

You can just about imagine Leod, relaxing by the fire with a good book in his peacock feather chair.

Like Eilean Donan, this is also a cozy castle. It’s got a nice library and nice portraits and nice bedroom furniture. As we wandered around this place I mostly wondered what Leod would have thought, as he scratched out his defensive position atop an island bluff, about his descendants like, wearing nice outfits and holding dinner parties. But I suppose one works hard so one’s kids can be artists. There was more Walter Scott ephemera and they did have a dungeon you could check out. We also of course saw the Fairy Flag and I am pleased that my blog will now safely return from WWII.

But now it was time for the seal tour. That was lots of fun. Bob is both a skilled skipper and skilled seal tour-er, and we were on one of the last ones of the season. The tour got us real close to two different seal colonies where the seals, used to basking in the glow of fame, are unperturbed as you watch them bask in what little sun there was. Bob also told us about Vlad, which I thought Bob said was a sea lion but upon Googling that doesn’t seem right, but whatever Vlad is he is big and has been eating all the seal colony pups. Bob took this in as just the circle of life. But Vlad is also eating all the otter pups, which had Bob concerned. We did not spot Vlad on this trip or else we would have given him a stern talking-to. Despite learning about predator-prey relationships the tour was a great time and it was gorgeous out there on the water.

The tour over and our feet back on dry (well kinda damp) land, we exited the castle via the gardens there. They are very nice gardens and look like the sorta place a fairy would hang out when not distributing flags. But it was getting late and finally time to make it to our accommodations for the night, after stopping by a fish & chips place to pick up some dinner. The final bit of driving was the most harrowing part of the day, as it finally brought us to some single-track roads. Although I had studied the YouTube videos about passing etiquette, and was trying desperately to be unfailingly polite, I still got it wrong and a man in a van I couldn’t see (his window was much higher than ours) stopped to tell me off about it. Although gruff I suppose this was really very kind of him and the rest of the time we were in Skye and Shetland the single-track roads were no problem, except that one time I kept pulling u-turns to look at a broch. But that was still some time away, and until then we were ensconced in the beautiful landscapes and looking forward to a couple more days in Skye.

Norman Rockwell Museum

Reading this week:

  • In Limbo by Tony Gould

A brief interlude in the Berkshires before we return to our Scottish adventures.

Out of a deep love of the pop girlies, my super amazing wife and super amazing mother-in-law and I went to the Norman Rockwell Museum! (it was not out of the love of the pop girlies, though I do love the pop girlies, it was only because we have an appreciation of art and Americana and local Berkshires sites, but I couldn’t come up with a better Lana Del Rey joke, probably because I don’t listen to Lana, except there was a period of my life that was very tumultuous and more specifically when I was in the shipyard when “Sweater Weather” was on the radio a lot as I was driving myself alone to Panera for dinner most nights, but that song is not by Lana though I thought it was until I looked it up just now for this extended aside, so now I think it is “Summertime Sadness” I was thinking of, as both were on the radio then, along with “Counting Stars,” a trio of songs that conjure up for me cold fog in San Diego, all of which to say is I really expected the album to be in the Norman Rockwell Museum gift shop, which it wasn’t)

The site of the museum is not like, Norman Rockwell’s house or anything. It is not clear to me how it the museum wound up where it did exactly, but it’s a nice spot (Rockwell did live nearby just not on the site itself). They did however truck his final studio to the spot so now it overlooks a frankly gorgeous view across a river valley. In the summer months you can tour the studio but it was not the summer months when we visited so we didn’t. The studio’s first life was as a carriage barn before Rockwell got a local cabinetmaker to renovate it using a lot of Shaker-type woodwork. Seems like a nice spot.

What we did explore was a purpose-built museum housing a large number of Rockwell’s original works. Since it was around Christmastime when we first entered the building we were greeted by a train set recreating “Home for Christmas,” which itself is a depiction of Stockbridge, where Rockwell lived and worked, so maybe the train set is just a recreation of the real town with no middle man in between. Hard to tell. But every year now Stockbridge dresses itself up as the painting, so art and life have simply become one.

Past the train set you get to the original artwork, and downstairs the museum also has hung up one of every Saturday Evening Post cover Rockwell ever did. Norman Rockwell of course represents uncontroversial Americana, a stereotype born of Rockwell’s own work. Given that, the most interesting parts of the museum is where you saw Rockwell push against that oeuvre or try to use his powers to push a harsher message. In his Saturday Evening Post days it was the magazine’s editorial policies that restricted him. One easy example is that in the original version of this Post cover, he had included champagne bottles, because you know that’s what you drink on New Years’ Eve, but that wasn’t family-friendly enough for the cover. Fun, but in the museum I also learned that it was the Post’s policy to only allow depictions of black people on the cover if they were in a subservient role, like a Pullman porter. So once Rockwell leaves the Post, you get him painting works like “Murder in Mississippi:”

“Murder in Mississippi,” Norman Rockwell, 1965

That painting is quintessential Americana, too.

The man was pretty amazing at what he did, which you don’t need me to tell you. A couple other pieces I really liked were “The Lineman” and “Glen Canyon Dam.” Neither of these were for the Post. I like “The Lineman” because there was apparently a lot of technical back and forth. It was for AT&T and since Rockwell worked off of models or reference photos he enlisted one John Toolan to pose for him on a “makeshift pole supplied by the telephone company,” and then when Rockwell sent off the preliminary drawing AT&T had him make nearly a dozen changes, mostly technical, which just like, some group of engineers spent a lot of time pouring over the drawings lest some inspirational ad be inaccurate. On the other hand “Glen Canyon Dam” caught my eye because it is kinda 3D; I don’t think it’s impasto exactly but the ridge the family is standing on sticks out from the canvas, and all those little rocks are actually bumps that you could feel, if they let you, which they don’t, the cowards. The painting itself clearly tells quite the story but I just think its neat.

And then I took a selfie with an internet celebrity:

Freedom of Speech,” Norman Rockwell, 1943, and author.

To finish out the day filled with classic Americana, we went into Stockbridge itself. Having seen the model in the museum it felt like I had been there already, so there was no need to linger, after some lunch and souvenir shopping we were on our way, another day in the Berkshires complete.

Red Lion Inn, Stockbridge, MA

David Livingstone Birthplace Museum

It was time for us to leave Edinburgh and so we got on an airport transfer bus and picked up a rental car, marking the first time I had driven a stick shift with my left hand. Our final destination was Skye but instead of driving there all in one day we were going to stop in Fort William. This gave us time to see in a leisurely way some of the sites, and my top priority was the David Livingstone Birthplace museum. I have been to the David Livingstone deathplace, and so visiting here meant, in physics terms, that I would have experienced Livingstone’s entire life. Despite it being my top priority I had not expected much of the place. However, having visited other David Livingstone museums and now this one I am willing to say: this is the greatest museum to David Livingstone in the world.

The reason I had not expected much was both bad assumptions and the online reviews. Like, I have been to the George Washington Birthplace National Monument and it didn’t really have a lot about George Washington. Or that’s how it seemed to me, though I visited in the last hour of the day it was open so maybe I did not look as closely as I could have, but it’s mostly a farmstead (seems to be a trend). David Livingstone was born at the Blantyre Cotton Works, so based on the George Washington experience I was anticipating a museum mostly about how cotton works work. The other factor is that the reviews my super amazing wife looked at mostly cited it as a nice place to walk a dog.

Me in front of the statue they made of what must have been a like terrible day for Livingstone.

And you know what, it does look like a really nice spot to walk a dog. You drive through a pretty little village/suburb to get to the museum, and as you turn into the parking lot there is a big field with trees on the edges and a path that leads down to the river (the cotton works being where they are so they could be powered by that river). They also have a lovely café where you can get tea or lunch (they have full table service! At a museum café!), and a playground for kids (they had one of those pirate ship play-sets which one sign said was inspired by the boats that Livingstone used on the Zambezi, and like, uh-huh). But we were not here for leisure, we were here for history, and so in we went to the museum.

The museum is extremely well done. Although now juuuuust about a century old, back in 2017 it got a £6 million grant and did a lot of work on conservation and updating the exhibits, reopening in 2021. The museum is laid out chronologically through Livingstone’s life. Actually a bit to my disappointment there is not much at all about the cotton works themselves, though do they have on display a spinning mule and a model of what the cotton works would have looked like while Livingstone was there. When they talk about the works it is in the context of David working there as a boy and young man, saving up to put himself through medical school.

On our visited we unexpectedly joined a guided tour when the tour guide invited us along. The one other person touring with us was apparently related to Livingstone and had met with Chief Chitambo (the current one) in Zambia. She had brought along some photos to give to the museum. The biggest advantage of having joined the tour and there being only three of us is that the guide let us past the rope barrier into the very room where Livingstone was born (and where he lived with his grandparents, parents, and siblings, all in that one room – and it was some of the nicer accommodations). I had been on the very spot where Livingstone died and now I was on the very spot where he was born (very completionist of me).

From there they talk about his early life and education, and proceeding through is career. Livingstone had decided he wanted to become a medical missionary and so started working toward that. The museum has some displays dedicated to his medical training, including his surgical instruments. For Livingstone, it was a bit of an accident he wound up in Africa at all, originally wanting to go to China and only being prevented by the First Opium War. He joined up with the London Missionary Society (they have his application at the museum!) when the cotton works wouldn’t have him back, forcing young David to get funding from elsewhere. Although I have read Tim Jeal’s biography, these were all new facts to me.

Throughout they have some interactive displays clearly meant to appeal to a slightly younger audience, but overall it is a really in-depth and serious museum about David Livingstone’s travels and impact, with special focus on the people that helped him along the way. They do this through what is an astounding array of artifacts. Like George Washington, David Livingstone was clearly the sort of person that inspired admirers to collect relics. Many of these relics were clearly put in the museum to appeal to me, specifically, like various navigation instruments that Livingstone used. But I mean they go deep. They got a chunk of the tree under which he proposed to his wife, Mary Moffat. They got a chunk of David and Mary’s house in Kolobeng. They got David’s forks and spoon even, and they have the very shirt that Livingstone was wearing when he met Stanley. They got everything.

On this particular day and throughout the tour we kept spotting various bits of the walls that had been covered up. Our tour guide explained that recently a protester had come in and written on the walls about colonialism and Palestine. My initial reaction was that the anger was a little misplaced towards Livingstone, seeing as he mostly seemed to want to help people. But that doesn’t necessarily mean much. The whole reason I got interested in the London Missionary Society in the first place, after seeing what info they had on the Mambwe, because they are a case study I think of people doing development work out of a fervor to help people. Their work wound up shaping the way colonialism in central Africa played out, and over a hundred years later we can look back with some perspective, useful as we continue to do development work out of a fervor to help people. So that doesn’t absolve you.

The museum also works to paint a holistic picture of the man. The obvious case is the failure of the Zambezi expedition, and the museum talks about the impact that had on his reputation. I also learned from the museum and the guidebook that Livingstone wrote out of his narrative at least sometimes the efforts of other people, such as William Cotton Oswell and Mungo Murray. Those men travelled with Livingstone to be the first Europeans to see Lake Ngami, but Livingstone wrote to the Royal Geographic Society taking all the credit. And then there is of course his wife Mary. Mary was born and raised in South Africa, and all her family was there. Although she joined him on his early travels, he eventually had her go live in the United Kingdom, shuffled between various houses while he went exploring in Africa. He could have treated her a lot better and eventually realized this after she died, but man, that is a revelation to have before you leave your wife to raise your children for like five years while you go trekking.

These thoughts were on our mind as we finished the tour (the room on his legacy is the last room of course so it is designed to be on your mind. We head out to explore the rest of the grounds, including walking down to the bridge across the river. It is a lovely place to consider the impact someone can have on the wider world, whether those impacts are intentional or not. What I can say in the end is that the Birthplace museum is a must-visit spot for anyone interested in David Livingstone, early European travels in Africa, or the history of Europe in Africa in general. Or if you need a really nice spot to walk your dog.