It started with a perilously stupid idea that there was a way to combine dancing, birdwatching and photography in a few days break from work after Christmas. Scotland and indeed England had been griped in icy temperatures and snow feet thick for most of the fortnight before. I arrived at a even more perilous idea which involved driving to Scotland, and around Scotland, whilst I was here - it would allow me to take my pick of locations for all three activities.
I started out on New Year's Eve with spectacular intent by leaving just before 10am after a hearty breakfast (these were to be a feature of my trip). The drive up was super smooth and I was able to take in Gromley's magnificent "Angel of the North" (no relation) though missed out on Durham and Berwick, which for reasons best known to their city fathers, don't allow the A1 to pass through their precincts. The approach to Edinburgh filled my heart - as though coming to an adopted home - in a way that the Hatfield tunnel and Wandsworth roundabout don't. It was nice to be back.Perth was swathed in mist and night was falling but the first sound I heard as I got out the car was a Common Buzzard calling: this set the tone of the trip nicely.
Hogmanay at The Hangar, a dance hall in the buildings associated with Scone airfield (airport is over-egging it a bit) was not new to me. In 2009 I had travelled up to be greeted with 8 inches of snow and a taxi driver who was livid about teh lack of gritting but game to give it a go to get to the venue. This year under my own steam and with Kev and Dr H as passengers we set off for Hangar around 8pm. Kev was in Scotland for the first time and to celebrate he wore a kilt. Photos will testify that he looked dashing. Dr H look gorgeous too but has had much more practice at that than Kev has at looking dashing in a kilt - there were all the kilt practicalities after all.
The Hangar is not a large venue but it is the very beating heart of all that is great about Ceroc Scotland. Franck and Sheena ensure a warm welcome and order of business which moves the evening along with humour, style and plenty of opportunities to dance. I couldn't possibly list all the friends who were there, but worth noting two showcases from Alex and Izy dazzled the assembled admirers. Stovies baffled some of the English contingent - but were well met. And dancing and dancing and dancing went on until 2am. There were subsequent discussions in a non-too distant hotel room regarding translations for the concept of 'boobies", the utility of carrot sticks and the return of Alan's joke for its second year - it remains the funniest thing every said by a Scotsman even when repeated by a Frenchman!
New Years Day 2011
Breakfast and lunch were combine but not in a brunchy sort of way, taken with with Kev and Dr H, at a time which could broadly be described as both too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. I solved the problems that are occasionally thrown up by the Springer Weekender Meal Classification System by having both breakfast (smoked salmon) and lunch (roast chicken) in a contiguous taste experience.
And thence I went to a relatively safe house where understanding friends and some people I'd never met before, allowed me to relax: sitting in the comfort of chairs whilst watching others play Twister, dance whilst avoiding some heavily engineered paper aeroplanes and browse on various savouries. A handsome night was hosted by a lady who can pick up a stamp sized piece of cardboard from the floor using only her lips - which is an admirable talent - but amongst our number not a unique talent.
At 2am there was a rush and commotion as someone suggested stovies should be made and they were - and the party went on. I left and was home before sunrise - which was at 8am so that doesn't say much.
The morning was dull and kind of becalmed: inside my head and out of it. It was with great pleasure that I met my next host in Brechin: joy unconfined at the quality of my accommodation. Then straight down to Rosyth for a Mariachi (with stovies). This Mariachi comprised a wide variety of guitar based dance music (for those who haven't been to one before) and was served to us in a fantastic venue by fantastic hosts. The phalanx of familiar, and new, faces - not only with their generous spirit, their creativity and humour but what was now obviously a clear commitment to the proper pronunciation of the word cus-Tard (emphasis on the last syllable please! And that's emPHAsis btw). Cee Jay's Mariachi was a great success and I wish the venture well in that very fine venue. We finished late.
2 January 2011
Monday was to be a rest day - no long drives or dances. First stop was Montrose - in the January gloom it was with some relief I found that not only were Tesco serving breakfast but it was proper Scottish breakfast with square sausage, black pudding and fried tatty scones - amongst other delicacies. I could sit here and praise the health benefits but I don;t want to bore you....Needless to say the quantities were healthy and that's all that matters (isn't it?)
Montrose harbour in the sleet was my first attempt at proper birdwatching on my trip - there were many Eider Ducks heading inland on the South Esk - smart unlikely coloured males dotted across the estuary were easy to pick out. But these warmest of cold weather ducks seemed obviously to the biting wind. Plan B - Lunan Beach was a beautiful place but now the sleet had turned to rain and the only wildlife in prospect was the ubiquitous roadside Buzzards - they were hungry (following days of snow covered fields) and so easily seen on the roadsides - clearing up rabbit and other carcasses. Plan C at St Cyrus was a wash out - but I will visit this fine reserve some other time.
Chasing light I attempted to go to into the Cairngorms via Fettercairn only to be thwarted by snow gates - the roads were still snowy and think ice underneath. This was combined with fresh water streams across the road cutting the ice into steep sided blocks made for challenging driving but even in the car the remoteness and wildness of these places came through.
Back at base I enjoyed fresh fish and chips and a pickled onion so potent that the man in the shop used tongs and suspended it in a cyclotron magnetic plasma stream to get it out of the jar and into the cardboard box.
3 January
Tuesday was a Bank Holiday which meant the Tesco's cafe was proper busy with many of the same faces that had been there the day before - in groups, chatting over coffee, toast or mountains of heathy portions of fried meat. Are these venues becoming the new pubs?
Stoneheaven harbour - though quaint and sheltered - yielded few birds but my reticence to get cold was a major problem. I overcame my reticence when I got to Dunnottar Castle south of Stoneheaven, this gothic ruin is supremely evocative even in the wintry gloom - and maybe more so with distant streaks of sunlit clouds on the horizon. Its a wild place and redolent of the kind of atmosphere typical of a Scott novel or a BBC Scotland July weather forecast - horizontal rain and limited visibility. Photographic possibilities were endless especially at a distance.
Moreover the birdlife was rich: Hooded Crows and Carrion Crows scrap and argue, Jackdaws negotiate the blustery winds like stunt pilots and large gulls wheel around inspecting the cliffs. A flock of birds which in any other circumstance might have been town feral or racing pigeons but here were almost certainly their original ancestors - Rock Doves were skittish - suggesting a Peregrine may also be there.
A expeditionary trip to Banchory turned into a hugely rewarding drive along the A93 to Braemar - the combination of the river Dee, snow capped hills and mountains and a setting sun provided some excellent sights to photograph and locations to stop the car, get out look around and breathe deeply. What an astonishingly beautiful country.
The road hugs the course of the river now and then but is hideously devoid of stopping places and its no surprise I suppose that the notices about private land and paucity of lay-bys is at its height near Balmoral.
My next photo project was the ships docked in harbour in Aberdeen. What an imposing city Aberdeen is. This is stature is largely because - as Jonathan Meades has pointed out - all the granite buildings look new, fresh out the box, because of the way the granite, of which they are built, withstands weathering. There were ships to be photographed: all equipped with strong lights which every now and then illuminated seagulls - which I at first mistook for owls! A group of drunks smoking outside a bar took a dislike to what I was doing and so I headed off to the dance.
Peterculter near Aberdeen is home to the Culter Mills Club - this social club is a very fine dance venue, with a fine floor and seating each side of a long dance floor. Lorna Baker teaches there and her enthusiastic crowd are keen to dance. Indeed the whole class seems to exude the good humour of their teacher and have her same feeling for styling to the music. The art of dancing to the music is sometimes lost amidst the complexity of Intermediate move combinations (and maybe more so now Advanced moves are being taught too) - but not here. Scottish dancers seem to have more musicality - maybe borne of greater exposure to dance as children. Lorna's venue is a gem.
4 January
Wednesday was a day for Dundee based activities but on the way from Brechin I slipped off the motorway to find the RSPB reserve at Loch of Kinnordy. Not a big reserve but with water and birdwatching hides I though a good place for wildfowl. The snow started falling as drove through Kirriemuir, the eerie sound of snow falling in a wood deadened the usual sounds of the countryside but birds loitered round the feeding station. The scene that greeted me in the first hide set the seal on the day because there was no water and no water fowl aside from a pair of Gossander which rose from a sliver of free water at the side of the hide. The scene was unfeasibly alien - no water, no birds, the only sound coming from rooks in trees nearby. Completely useless for the birdwatcher and photographer (as teh snow still fell) but somehow wonderful to sit and savour. And an unlikely scene for comedy yet as three pheasant trie dot walk across the ice they slipped and slide and trembled on the ice like a child on roller skates, and I laughed out loud.
The prospect from all three hides was the same: snow, ice, quietude and by this time, cold too. I departed for Dundee.
I spent some time in MacDonald's savouring the fantastic dance tracks they play whilst browsing the internet and writing the first entries of this diary. Time passed - too much as it turned out - as when i returned to my car it had been locked in the car park. A taxi to the dance venue and a quick call to a Travelodge sorted my predicament. And once I'd stopped swearing I settled down to enjoy another evening's dancing in Scotland.
Social clubs are an under-rated community resource - the Dundee Social Club on Thistle Street is another fine dance venue even if it is unassuming from teh outside. Its ideal to house Sheena Assiph's class on a Wednesday night and a great place to see familiar faces. Not just from Hogmanay but from other venues in times past.
Sheena is DJ of renown with an ear for the right combination of tracks and a wide repertoire. Shes also a very fine teacher and her class is friendly and willing to accommodate visiting two Englishmen and a Frenchman on the night I was there with bon hommie and gusto.
I really enjoyed myself and settled down for the night with my head full of great Scottish dance experiences. A half seven start was required to make an early start for England via the car park in Dundee where my car had, I'm pleased to say, been sealed from prying eyes overnight. The morning was wet and gloomy and once on the road to Perth the signs warned of black ice. Beyond Perth the cloud lifted and it was a gorgeous bright morning, I decided that this might be a good opportunity to explore the RSPB reserve at Vane Farm - 20 miles north of Edinburgh and 3 miles off the motorway. The hills around Loch leaven were covered with fresh snow and in the sun for the first time in the week the bright crisp covering looked magnificent. The omens were good as I passed a field full of Pink-footed & Greylag Geese. The reserve was still an hour from opening when I arrived so I dived into a the first hide to find another frozen Loch before me. A few pools of open water were evident with a handful of ducks including Red Breasted Merganser, teal but most Mallard. But the feeders along side the hide were busy with choice birds including both Brambling and Siskin. And the view was magnificent. The Assistant Warden popped in and she told me about the two White Tailed Sea Eagles which had been visiting the loch. With fish inaccessible they had been taking ducks from the margins of the few pools which were open. One eagle had also been eating a dead swan.
As we chatted about the east coast release scheme for eagles the warden spotted in the distance - about half a mile away - one of the eagles. Binocular views showed a Buzzard in attendance which was dwarfed by the beast. The ducks close to us cleared as the eagle began to fly towards us. The view we had on that cold clear morning were fantastic - even the young birds of this species (the fourth biggest eagle there is) are enormous and like a flying wardrobe it flew over the hide and high to our right probably over the hills behind the reserve centre. I was thrilled. And all because I'd forgotten my car in a car park in Dundee. The cup of tea I had in the excellent reserve cafe caused me to pause and think on my life in "that London" as they say in Yorkshire. Sophisticated - no, exciting - not very, capable of inspiring awe like an eagle flying over your head - never!
So a great end to a dancing holiday - by no means the last I intend to have in Scotland.
I started out on New Year's Eve with spectacular intent by leaving just before 10am after a hearty breakfast (these were to be a feature of my trip). The drive up was super smooth and I was able to take in Gromley's magnificent "Angel of the North" (no relation) though missed out on Durham and Berwick, which for reasons best known to their city fathers, don't allow the A1 to pass through their precincts. The approach to Edinburgh filled my heart - as though coming to an adopted home - in a way that the Hatfield tunnel and Wandsworth roundabout don't. It was nice to be back.Perth was swathed in mist and night was falling but the first sound I heard as I got out the car was a Common Buzzard calling: this set the tone of the trip nicely.
Hogmanay at The Hangar, a dance hall in the buildings associated with Scone airfield (airport is over-egging it a bit) was not new to me. In 2009 I had travelled up to be greeted with 8 inches of snow and a taxi driver who was livid about teh lack of gritting but game to give it a go to get to the venue. This year under my own steam and with Kev and Dr H as passengers we set off for Hangar around 8pm. Kev was in Scotland for the first time and to celebrate he wore a kilt. Photos will testify that he looked dashing. Dr H look gorgeous too but has had much more practice at that than Kev has at looking dashing in a kilt - there were all the kilt practicalities after all.
The Hangar is not a large venue but it is the very beating heart of all that is great about Ceroc Scotland. Franck and Sheena ensure a warm welcome and order of business which moves the evening along with humour, style and plenty of opportunities to dance. I couldn't possibly list all the friends who were there, but worth noting two showcases from Alex and Izy dazzled the assembled admirers. Stovies baffled some of the English contingent - but were well met. And dancing and dancing and dancing went on until 2am. There were subsequent discussions in a non-too distant hotel room regarding translations for the concept of 'boobies", the utility of carrot sticks and the return of Alan's joke for its second year - it remains the funniest thing every said by a Scotsman even when repeated by a Frenchman!
New Years Day 2011
Breakfast and lunch were combine but not in a brunchy sort of way, taken with with Kev and Dr H, at a time which could broadly be described as both too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. I solved the problems that are occasionally thrown up by the Springer Weekender Meal Classification System by having both breakfast (smoked salmon) and lunch (roast chicken) in a contiguous taste experience.
And thence I went to a relatively safe house where understanding friends and some people I'd never met before, allowed me to relax: sitting in the comfort of chairs whilst watching others play Twister, dance whilst avoiding some heavily engineered paper aeroplanes and browse on various savouries. A handsome night was hosted by a lady who can pick up a stamp sized piece of cardboard from the floor using only her lips - which is an admirable talent - but amongst our number not a unique talent.
At 2am there was a rush and commotion as someone suggested stovies should be made and they were - and the party went on. I left and was home before sunrise - which was at 8am so that doesn't say much.
The morning was dull and kind of becalmed: inside my head and out of it. It was with great pleasure that I met my next host in Brechin: joy unconfined at the quality of my accommodation. Then straight down to Rosyth for a Mariachi (with stovies). This Mariachi comprised a wide variety of guitar based dance music (for those who haven't been to one before) and was served to us in a fantastic venue by fantastic hosts. The phalanx of familiar, and new, faces - not only with their generous spirit, their creativity and humour but what was now obviously a clear commitment to the proper pronunciation of the word cus-Tard (emphasis on the last syllable please! And that's emPHAsis btw). Cee Jay's Mariachi was a great success and I wish the venture well in that very fine venue. We finished late.
2 January 2011
Monday was to be a rest day - no long drives or dances. First stop was Montrose - in the January gloom it was with some relief I found that not only were Tesco serving breakfast but it was proper Scottish breakfast with square sausage, black pudding and fried tatty scones - amongst other delicacies. I could sit here and praise the health benefits but I don;t want to bore you....Needless to say the quantities were healthy and that's all that matters (isn't it?)
Montrose harbour in the sleet was my first attempt at proper birdwatching on my trip - there were many Eider Ducks heading inland on the South Esk - smart unlikely coloured males dotted across the estuary were easy to pick out. But these warmest of cold weather ducks seemed obviously to the biting wind. Plan B - Lunan Beach was a beautiful place but now the sleet had turned to rain and the only wildlife in prospect was the ubiquitous roadside Buzzards - they were hungry (following days of snow covered fields) and so easily seen on the roadsides - clearing up rabbit and other carcasses. Plan C at St Cyrus was a wash out - but I will visit this fine reserve some other time.
Chasing light I attempted to go to into the Cairngorms via Fettercairn only to be thwarted by snow gates - the roads were still snowy and think ice underneath. This was combined with fresh water streams across the road cutting the ice into steep sided blocks made for challenging driving but even in the car the remoteness and wildness of these places came through.
Back at base I enjoyed fresh fish and chips and a pickled onion so potent that the man in the shop used tongs and suspended it in a cyclotron magnetic plasma stream to get it out of the jar and into the cardboard box.
3 January
Tuesday was a Bank Holiday which meant the Tesco's cafe was proper busy with many of the same faces that had been there the day before - in groups, chatting over coffee, toast or mountains of heathy portions of fried meat. Are these venues becoming the new pubs?
Stoneheaven harbour - though quaint and sheltered - yielded few birds but my reticence to get cold was a major problem. I overcame my reticence when I got to Dunnottar Castle south of Stoneheaven, this gothic ruin is supremely evocative even in the wintry gloom - and maybe more so with distant streaks of sunlit clouds on the horizon. Its a wild place and redolent of the kind of atmosphere typical of a Scott novel or a BBC Scotland July weather forecast - horizontal rain and limited visibility. Photographic possibilities were endless especially at a distance.
Moreover the birdlife was rich: Hooded Crows and Carrion Crows scrap and argue, Jackdaws negotiate the blustery winds like stunt pilots and large gulls wheel around inspecting the cliffs. A flock of birds which in any other circumstance might have been town feral or racing pigeons but here were almost certainly their original ancestors - Rock Doves were skittish - suggesting a Peregrine may also be there.
A expeditionary trip to Banchory turned into a hugely rewarding drive along the A93 to Braemar - the combination of the river Dee, snow capped hills and mountains and a setting sun provided some excellent sights to photograph and locations to stop the car, get out look around and breathe deeply. What an astonishingly beautiful country.
The road hugs the course of the river now and then but is hideously devoid of stopping places and its no surprise I suppose that the notices about private land and paucity of lay-bys is at its height near Balmoral.
My next photo project was the ships docked in harbour in Aberdeen. What an imposing city Aberdeen is. This is stature is largely because - as Jonathan Meades has pointed out - all the granite buildings look new, fresh out the box, because of the way the granite, of which they are built, withstands weathering. There were ships to be photographed: all equipped with strong lights which every now and then illuminated seagulls - which I at first mistook for owls! A group of drunks smoking outside a bar took a dislike to what I was doing and so I headed off to the dance.
Peterculter near Aberdeen is home to the Culter Mills Club - this social club is a very fine dance venue, with a fine floor and seating each side of a long dance floor. Lorna Baker teaches there and her enthusiastic crowd are keen to dance. Indeed the whole class seems to exude the good humour of their teacher and have her same feeling for styling to the music. The art of dancing to the music is sometimes lost amidst the complexity of Intermediate move combinations (and maybe more so now Advanced moves are being taught too) - but not here. Scottish dancers seem to have more musicality - maybe borne of greater exposure to dance as children. Lorna's venue is a gem.
4 January
Wednesday was a day for Dundee based activities but on the way from Brechin I slipped off the motorway to find the RSPB reserve at Loch of Kinnordy. Not a big reserve but with water and birdwatching hides I though a good place for wildfowl. The snow started falling as drove through Kirriemuir, the eerie sound of snow falling in a wood deadened the usual sounds of the countryside but birds loitered round the feeding station. The scene that greeted me in the first hide set the seal on the day because there was no water and no water fowl aside from a pair of Gossander which rose from a sliver of free water at the side of the hide. The scene was unfeasibly alien - no water, no birds, the only sound coming from rooks in trees nearby. Completely useless for the birdwatcher and photographer (as teh snow still fell) but somehow wonderful to sit and savour. And an unlikely scene for comedy yet as three pheasant trie dot walk across the ice they slipped and slide and trembled on the ice like a child on roller skates, and I laughed out loud.
The prospect from all three hides was the same: snow, ice, quietude and by this time, cold too. I departed for Dundee.
I spent some time in MacDonald's savouring the fantastic dance tracks they play whilst browsing the internet and writing the first entries of this diary. Time passed - too much as it turned out - as when i returned to my car it had been locked in the car park. A taxi to the dance venue and a quick call to a Travelodge sorted my predicament. And once I'd stopped swearing I settled down to enjoy another evening's dancing in Scotland.
Social clubs are an under-rated community resource - the Dundee Social Club on Thistle Street is another fine dance venue even if it is unassuming from teh outside. Its ideal to house Sheena Assiph's class on a Wednesday night and a great place to see familiar faces. Not just from Hogmanay but from other venues in times past.
Sheena is DJ of renown with an ear for the right combination of tracks and a wide repertoire. Shes also a very fine teacher and her class is friendly and willing to accommodate visiting two Englishmen and a Frenchman on the night I was there with bon hommie and gusto.
I really enjoyed myself and settled down for the night with my head full of great Scottish dance experiences. A half seven start was required to make an early start for England via the car park in Dundee where my car had, I'm pleased to say, been sealed from prying eyes overnight. The morning was wet and gloomy and once on the road to Perth the signs warned of black ice. Beyond Perth the cloud lifted and it was a gorgeous bright morning, I decided that this might be a good opportunity to explore the RSPB reserve at Vane Farm - 20 miles north of Edinburgh and 3 miles off the motorway. The hills around Loch leaven were covered with fresh snow and in the sun for the first time in the week the bright crisp covering looked magnificent. The omens were good as I passed a field full of Pink-footed & Greylag Geese. The reserve was still an hour from opening when I arrived so I dived into a the first hide to find another frozen Loch before me. A few pools of open water were evident with a handful of ducks including Red Breasted Merganser, teal but most Mallard. But the feeders along side the hide were busy with choice birds including both Brambling and Siskin. And the view was magnificent. The Assistant Warden popped in and she told me about the two White Tailed Sea Eagles which had been visiting the loch. With fish inaccessible they had been taking ducks from the margins of the few pools which were open. One eagle had also been eating a dead swan.
As we chatted about the east coast release scheme for eagles the warden spotted in the distance - about half a mile away - one of the eagles. Binocular views showed a Buzzard in attendance which was dwarfed by the beast. The ducks close to us cleared as the eagle began to fly towards us. The view we had on that cold clear morning were fantastic - even the young birds of this species (the fourth biggest eagle there is) are enormous and like a flying wardrobe it flew over the hide and high to our right probably over the hills behind the reserve centre. I was thrilled. And all because I'd forgotten my car in a car park in Dundee. The cup of tea I had in the excellent reserve cafe caused me to pause and think on my life in "that London" as they say in Yorkshire. Sophisticated - no, exciting - not very, capable of inspiring awe like an eagle flying over your head - never!
So a great end to a dancing holiday - by no means the last I intend to have in Scotland.
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