Edinburgh is in Festival mood once again. It is like being in the Tower of Babel with the chattering of ‘tongues’ and people from all parts of the world squashed on pavements or queuing up to watch some snippet of fancy.
John and I were beguiled to go and watch a one woman show, starring Kate Cook in ‘The Invisible Woman’. We would never have known about her, as the guide book for the festival fringe is just about as fat as a Bible, with so many options, so when she presented her flyer to us as we drank white wine in the Grassmarket (in the sunshine), we decided to go along. For an hour we were transported into Resistance France, courtesy of this amazing woman who with her voice and mannerisms, morphed into ten characters. Such talent. The Royal Mile is fun, alive with talent and street theatre. It’s good to wander and just become part of it for a while.
It was even lovelier on Saturday as we joined the walking group and drove down to the Scottish Borders to begin our walk along the River Tweed. The walk took in Old Melrose where St Cuthbert was Prior, then followed the Tweed south, and crossed the river near Dryburgh and returned via Wallace’s Statue and Scott’s View.
We ambled along; our fellow walkers were nice, it was good to share the chatter, discuss herbal recipes and feel the lushness of August.
The Himalayan balsam and nettles were fighting for space in the thick grasses, the corn fields were ripe and pale lemon, and we marched upwards through the muddy paths to the a quaint statue of muses that invoked poetry by the border poet James Thomson, 
and then the mighty red stone statue of William Wallace holding a sword the size of a telegraph pole. There was no resemblance to Mel Gibson at all.
John and I are charging about the countryside and the streets of Edinburgh looking for a new home. When you have the choice suddenly the choices are just too much. Do we want the beautiful green glens south of Oban, in a house nestled beneath a hill where the red deer walk on an evening, beside a rushing stream?
It has a sitting room with a floor properly sprung for dancing, large enough to take two sets of eightsome reels, but how often would we have the full complement in order to dance the night away? Would Don come from Vietnam to play on his violin, the same that used to accompany us on other dancing nights in Hanoi?
We have looked around the city, but prices are now extortionate. We have looked by the sea, and across the river in Fife. We did see a fabulous house at the weekend, sitting on the shore of the Forth, under the great engineering construction of the Forth Bridge. It had seals bobbing by the shore and a viewing deck just begging for a glass of wine and salt and vinegar crisps!
I suppose it’s one way to see a country, having a mission, and setting off not really knowing what we will encounter. It is always the question, how close is it to friends and family; is it too remote? Would the Ardnamurchan Peninsula be right for us at this stage in our lives? Head and Heart – it always gets back to choices. I suppose it has to be somewhere in between, but with hospitals and airports close by. In the meantime our garden is a riot of colour and I see the Bishop of Llandaff has come out in all its red glory at last.
Natasha and Leo are full of creativity at the moment. They have just completed the stop motion section of the music video for the pop group Leftfield, it is quite amazing, and I couldn’t believe how Natasha made all the puppets.
They are now doing another animation for another group; it is less horrific I think! It features mermaids and seals, and is very pretty. Meanwhile Bonnie is with her childminder and has been gallivanting at the toddler gym, and judging from her appearance on Skype she is looking very happy with life all round.
I am having Gerry and Cathal round on Thursday and plan making a grouse recipe. A first for me, but should celebrate the season and all that, and justify the poor wee birdies dying for sport. The one I killed recently on the road damaged the cruise control camera on the car… the cost of fixing it is £400!!! We won’t bother, as we can cruise along quite nicely without it.
Just have to add a post script. With all this house viewing we have done recently, we were most amused with a certain agent showing us around a house in Oban. The rain was lashing horizontally and he peered out of the window of the elegant house overlooking the sands, and said ‘Who on earth would want to live here?’ He then went on to tell us about the builder who had built the development, a man called John Mac……; apparently ‘he was very unpopular in the village, a right bastard, God rest his soul, but he did a grand job here. The bastard, may he rest in peace.’ I did like him, (the agent that is), it might have been fun to get to know him socially!
Now off to see the sights, the city awaits with all its nonsense and music, and the sun is shining.
Next week we shall be in Austria, as John’s son is to be in the World Championships of Iron Man. I shall yodel at the side with a sausage and a beer. (Hope it won’t make him fall off his bike!)
Tales from the Gael 