Occasional scribbler, maker of journeys. Celtica; myths, maps and mountains.
An early start; a bus from Edinburgh to the old, genteel town of Peebles. Out into the bright morning air. Sunlight and Saturday morning shopping;…
1 CommentAbout an hour north of the city of Glasgow, towards the northwestern end of Loch Lomond, there rises an exceptionally striking patch of mountain country.…
Leave a CommentEdinburgh is a place for secret things. The city regularly feels like a labyrinth; a maze of tangled stone in which all manner of things…
Leave a Comment‘Under the earth I go, On the oak leaf I stand, I ride on the filly that was never foaled, And I carry the dead…
Leave a CommentThe west of Europe used to be full of Celtic temples. In every settlement, every holy grove, every mountain top and ring of stones that…
3 CommentsThe first writers from the bright-lit lands of the Middle Sea, gazing north into a gloom of silver clouds and fog and endless trees, described…
2 CommentsOn the southern edge of the Highlands of Scotland, where the first high hills clad in forest rear up from the plains, lies the little…
Leave a CommentI met the Iron Lady on a walk by the river. We had taken a short drive down through the green fields of Morbihan to…
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