Category Archives: Travel

Cross Country

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If you were attracted in by the title and train times photo, and you’d prefer not to read my ramblings about current events and Charlie Kirk, please scroll down until you see a photo of the Leeds to Settle train time from last week. Underneath that, I describe my rail journey from last weekend. My brain took me elsewhere as I contemplated the title I had just written and it’s quite long, so feel free to pass over it, if you will.

There are a lot of thoughts rushing round my head this morning, and as I typed the title, it struck me that the words have more than one meaning. Our country and many others in the western world do seem to be filled with anger. I don’t have a TV licence, nor do I read many newspapers, so I don’t know how it’s been presented in the UK mainstream, but I have seen on Twitter/X an outpouring of debate, following the shooting of Charlie Kirk.

Most people I follow, whether they agreed with him or not, have reacted with shock and grief. Whatever you thought of his politics, this was a young man with a family, shot for his political views. I must add here, that I had never heard of Charlie Kirk until he was shot, but having seen a lot of clips of him, it seems he was a Christian who was trying to remind people that the Bible doesn’t just say, as many modern churches (and even secular societies) seem to, that life is all about being nice to people and that we should never judge or comment on what we personally believe is right, in case it offends someone. He also seems to have recently been hand in glove with Donald Trump. US politics are beyond my understanding right now, but Christianity and politics are somehow embroiled in a way that doesn’t happen in the UK, so that is something I can’t assess, but my thoughts are around the accusations attached to his Christian views.

Some Bible “rules”, even in the New Testament, set out ideas that don’t seem very relevant or important. There are examples of customs set out in the Bible which many modern churches simply ignore. A fairly non-contentious one for discussion would be the instruction, set out in 1 Corinthians 11 that women should cover their heads when praying, while men should not.

“4Every man praying or prophesying, having his head covered, dishonoureth his head. 5But every woman that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoureth her head”

This is, broadly, ignored in modern churches. I ignore it myself, though I can remember my grandmother always wore a hat to church, so in living memory, it was considered important enough for faithful Christians to follow it. There are far more contentious things set out, including that women should not preach. We struggle with that, in an age when we are trying to remove ideas we see as sexist. Long term readers will know that I have started daily Bible readings, with a view to understanding more about what the Bible actually says, and that I have struggled with the contrast between Jesus, who calls God “my Father” and the jealous, even capricious God described in the Old Testament. To be truly Christian, as set out in the Bible, is actually a difficult prospect, because it doesn’t fit with some values we now hold to be true, and even within the texts, there seem to be contradictions.

While being nice to people is an attractive (surely blameless) suggestion, the idea that we should never set out our personal beliefs if they might offend someone is a backwards step. Our western values were heavily influenced by the Bible and Christianity and those rules are being eroded. Some might regard those rules as stupid, but abandoning some while assuming we can retain the good ones that fit with modern sentiment is open to the risk of undermining everything.

Anyway, from one side, I see Charlie Kirk being accused of being right wing, anti-gay, anti-abortion and these are held out to be heinous crimes, actually worthy of assassination. But the clips I have seen paint a more nuanced picture. The Roman Catholic Church is similarly accused, and possibly there are some members of that church who are sufficiently anti-gay and anti-abortion that they would shun those who are gay or have abortions. But my understanding, from priests I have listened to (and Charlie Kirk seems to have held similar beliefs) is that Christians should never shun those people, or condemn them, but rather love them nonetheless as another person’s sin is between that person and God, and not for us to judge. Love the sinner, hate the sin. But you can’t hate the sin, without acknowledging that it exists.

What many in modern society seem to propose, is that we should dismiss the very idea that anything is sinful and we must move towards a blame-free model, which is simply a free-for-all with everyone choosing their own rules. The expectation that nobody should mention the Biblical rules in any form, lest someone feel hurt, or that only chosen topics that are agreeable to modern sentiment can ever be mentioned, is dangerous ground.

I feel that, in the rush to be non-judgemental, even those in many modern churches seem too ready to dismiss the rules altogether, which (contended through translation or not) is to lose sight of what is written in the Bible. If you pick and choose which of the Bible’s (and particularly the New Testament’s) teachings to believe (as opposed to working out which you can bring yourself to adhere to) you may as well not really call yourself Christian at all. Am I a Christian? Well I’m working out where I stand, but I realize that I too, am on dodgy ground when I pick and choose which parts I want to believe and which I dismiss. Who am Ito judge what is relevant? Those who wrote it and those who selected what belongs in it did so a long time ago. It’s a thorny problem.

So how does this relate to Charlie Kirk? From the clips I’ve seen, which I admit are not comprehensive and have obviously been selected to demonstrate certain points, what he seems to be accused of is being anti-gay and so on, but what he is actually “guilty” of is reminding people the rules are there, written in the Bible and that picking and choosing is a complicated business. There are clips of him talking to gay people and saying what they do isn’t up to him to judge. He still accepted they were important to God and the society he wanted to build. Nowadays, reminding people that Christianity has rules is, by some members of society, being painted as so contentious that those doing the reminding deserve violence.

I’m not a particularly deep thinker, but I don’t believe anyone deserves violence and I don’t think violence is ever justified, though there is a grey area with physical self-defence. I also think a completely secular society, where we throw out all Christian based beliefs of right and wrong, is a society where awful ideas can more easily take hold. The idea that there is no “normal” and it’s not okay to regard anyone’s activity as deviant? Well I understand what that is trying to achieve, but it leaves us at risk of normalizing behaviors that put others in society at risk.

That attitude seems to go hand in hand with the idea that those who even mention the suggestion that some activities are deviant are committing a violent act and that retribution is only to be expected if you say something that offends people. The idea that someone might deserve to die, for saying things a group of people didn’t like, then starts to be normalized and excused. Well what did he expect? He should have keep his mouth shut! Really that is a world I don’t want to see or live in, yet here we are. What happened to “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”?

I apologize to anyone who was drawn into this blog by the photo of the train journey at the top of the page and didn’t want to read my thoughts on current events. This was going to be a light hearted post about my rail trip from Guildford to Leeds last weekend, but sometimes I end up going where my brain takes me. From here on is what I intended to write about.

Screenshot


I took a train from Guildford to Reading last Saturday morning and was smugly thinking how much easier rail travel was nowadays. As I looked at the screenshots I had taken of train times, I thought back to a time when I would stand on station platforms, trying to make sense of the printed timetables on the posters and of a huge tome with all trains everywhere for the next six months, which my dad or the people in the ticket booth at the station would check for you, so you could work out how to get where you wanted. You had to memorize the journey in advance. That said, if you missed a train, there was usually a guard or station worker who could tell you. They all seemed to have magical memories, that retained all this national knowledge of what went where.

Having looked online last weekend for trains to Leeds, from Reading, it seemed that I had a choice of going to Paddington, getting the Underground Central Line to Kings Cross (or it may have been Euston) then getting a Leeds bound train from there. The alternative was going via Birmingham and changing there for a train to Leeds. That would get me to Leeds a bit later, but I would still be in time to get the 15:18 from Leeds to Settle. Whichever I chose, I would arrive in Settle at the same time. While I had confidently negotiated a trip from Kings Cross to Waterloo on the way to Guildford, I decided Birmingham New Street sounded the easier option.

If you look closely at the image at the top of the page, there was only a twelve minute connection time between the train arriving at Birmingham New Street and the Leeds train, but as you can also see, the information gathered by Google even went so far as to tell me what platform I needed. As I rushed across New Street station, dismissing the possibilities of toilet and coffee (queues at both) I was glad of the help that Google provided.

The first carriage I tried to get into turned out to be first class. With time passing, I went to the next entrance, which proved to already have passengers standing, while through the windows I could see all the seats were filled. Scurrying along the train, wondering whether there were seats anywhere, again and again, I came to entrances that were already blocked by people for whom there was standing room only. It was a long train and eventually, in the last carriage, there were a few seats. With relief, I jumped in and sat down. My student days of happily sharing train floors with seated strangers are long past.

It was only after the train had left the station, that I started to listen to the announcements about where it was going. There was a long list. The final stop was Aberdeen, with many stops along the way, but one name that I hadn’t heard was Leeds. I waited for the scrolling announcement on the screen to go again and it was confirmed. Sheffield and Doncaster were on the list. Leeds was not.

There had been a woman with a trolley in the entrance to the carriage. Rather than trying again online, I thought I might ask her. She was lovely, but didn’t know. “What you can do,” she said, “is walk up to first class. There are staff there who’ll be able to advise you.” I was halfway along the carriage where I had found the seat before it struck me that, not only was it a long way up to first class, but that getting past all the people in the corridors was going to make the journey difficult and that there was a possibility that I might not be able to make it at all.

I did give consideration to sitting back down and trying to work it out myself, but my faith in asking people for help surged to the fore. I’d already made a mess of online searching. Better to ask someone who actually knew how it all worked. It was a long walk and I apologised over and over as I initially pushed past people, then later actually had to aske them to stand up from where they had settled themselves in on the floors of the increasingly crushed corridors and doorways.

With all those bodies, it was hot and I was sweating by the time me and my suitcase passed through the civilised and air conditioned first class carriage to reach the galley beyond, where I did indeed find two permanent members of train staff. To my relief, my stammered explanation of being on the wrong train was met with a friendly resignation. This train, they agreed, did normally stop at Leeds, but today it was going via Doncaster instead.

They advised that I could get off at either Sheffield or Doncaster and would find easy connections to Leeds from either. It was only then that I began to think about the rest of the journey to either of those. Both were still a couple of hours away and the seat I’d found was a very long way off, past people I’d already inconvenienced once. I’d had a brief conversation with a staff member on an earlier train, who’d said it would probably only be a tenner to upgrade to first class. Not expecting to find it was the same here, I haltingly asked how much it would cost to upgrade here.

To my amazement I was told that, as the train was fully booked, I could sit in first class for now, until somebody else needed the seat. I felt slightly guilty as I sat down in the only spare seat, but as the alternative was to shuffle all the poor floor sitters in the stuffy vestibule beyond the first class door (there was no space to join them so going past would be the only option) I decided I would stay where I was and hope that nobody else would book the seat I was sitting in before we got to Sheffield.

Thankfully, I was able to travel first class to Sheffield, where I found there was about an hour to wait before the next Leeds train. There may well have been more trains that stopped there (rather than it being an end destination) but I decided that I wasn’t going to risk Dr Google again and that the time could be well spent, using the toilet and buying the coffee and sandwich there hadn’t been time for in Birmingham.

And so, I arrived back in Settle about an hour and a half later than I had hoped, with a new realization that I should not take shortcuts in looking up train times. There are proper apps and sites that will actually give live information on what is actually happening that day, and not on what usually happens on the line or service. I guess I’ve already started to doubt the AI summary that Google gives at the top of any search now, so I can add train times to the list of things I need to search for on reliable websites and not on accumulated information (and misinformation) that Google gathers from anywhere and everywhere.

I was also going to write a bit about the apps I use to help with managing my FND and in particular, my amusement last night about a “Sleep Wind Down” called “Arctic Lights” which… well the described scene did not resemble the Arctic I remember. I may come back to that next week, because this is already long enough.

I’ll leave you with a few images from Blackbird Lane, where autumn is already creeping in and the clear summer skies have been replaced with more typical Scottish weather. Thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.

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A Week Away

Blog, Food, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, , , , , , , , ,

I’ve spent this week in leafy Surrey, which surely lived up to its name.

It’s been a good week, all told. I’ve learned how little I know about chicken diseases. I know more now than I did, but as with so many courses and conferences I’ve attended that were not squarely aimed at people doing the same, specific job I am, there was a good deal that was so removed from my technical expertise that my brain switched off. I’m never going to need information on how to split DNA to make a vaccine or test for the presence of a virus. It was interesting to get an idea how it’s done, but it’s only really the end product or the positive or negative result I will ever encounter.

That said, there were parts that will come in useful, not least in learning how to recognize some non-notifiable diseases when I’m out on a report case. Background understanding of what you are looking at when you walk around a shed filled with sick birds or when you carry out a post-mortem is obviously really useful. There were also lots of lovely people and I enjoyed talking to, and working with, vets from several different parts of the world. Some of them worked for APHA, so it’s not impossible I’ll run into them again.

We were based part of the time in the very new vet school at the University of Surrey. How different it is from Summerhall in Edinburgh, where I studied more than thirty years ago. There are some pictures here on a website dedicated to Outlander locations! About halfway down, there are some pictures of the anatomy lecture theatre, with its steep horseshoe of drop-down wooden seats. I always had a real sense of history sitting there.

Summerhall

The new Surrey building is all soaring glass roofs and pristine labs. There’s also a wonderful sports hall nearby and modern student accommodation, though I didn’t see inside that. There was a choice to stay there, or in the Holiday Inn next door, which seemed like a no-brainer to me! I’ve been photographing my food through the week. I must say, I started out healthy, with “superfood salad” with added salmon and then chicken. I should have stuck to that as I probably enjoyed it the most, but I got drawn in to trying other things and last night, eating with a friend I’d made on the course, I succumbed to dessert as well. Ah well, tomorrow it’ll be back to no sugar and then after that, back to reduced carbs. Anyway, I present to you, a week of food, by Holiday Inn Guildford.

Ironically, having succumbed to the chicken schnitzel sandwich on the last night, I really didn’t enjoy it: an error I shall try not to repeat. The cheesecake was nice though, as was the chocolate torte the night before. Not bad for a hotel chain restaurant (she said, not quite damning them with faint praise!)

This morning, I shall take a train back up to Yorkshire and tomorrow, I’ll drive back to Scotland. The real world and the return to the grindstone awaits. I shall pass my newfound knowledge to my colleagues. That’s the deal with any course I attend. I will also follow up on some networking opportunities. Anyone who knows the civil service will be aware that who you know makes all the difference to how well you can perform your job. The more I learn about who to contact, the more I can help the farmers I work with to get the answers they sometimes need.

Have a lovely week all and thanks for reading.

Unexpected Discoveries and a Missing Seal

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I made a happy discovery yesterday evening, when I was travelling to Yorkshire. I like to break my journey at Tebay, but when it’s hot and I have Triar in the car, I tend to push on. Last night though, I was tired enough to stop. On entering the car park, instead of going straight ahead, I turned left up the hill, hoping to find some shade behind the trees. What I didn’t expect to find was a lovely shady dog walk, set among the trees. So as well as crunchy cheese and mango flavoured fizzy water, I got in 1,000 steps and a very pleasant woodland wander.

It’s been an unexpected type of week really. The only visits I had planned were to a farm where I was to TB test eight cattle. They had tested before as inconclusive, following a move up to Scotland from a higher risk area, so they were being retested. That was booked in for Tuesday/Friday (inject and read) so when my line manager sent out a message asking for volunteers to do night duty on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights, I quickly offered.

Usually, being on call is not too onerous. Sometimes there are phone calls in the evening, but it’s fairly rare, so I was quite unprepared when the phone rang at 2am on Wednesday morning. Quickly gathering pen and paper, I spoke to a vet about an owner whose dog had been in contact with a bat. The dog was now unwell and she wanted some advice. As both bat and dog were in central Scotland, the chances of rabies infection were small, but having been phoned, I had to make sure. Most of the form filling was left for the morning, but I was still up for a couple of hours recording the situation, so the vets taking over in the morning knew I was dealing with it.

So Wednesday morning was mostly taken up with the aftermath. The afternoon was quiet, but I was glad when home time came. However, I had only just sat down when the phone rang again. This time it was my veterinary advisor. Did I want to go on a report case the following morning. I’ve been waiting to do a report case, which is an investigation into a potential notifiable disease outbreak, so I said yes first, then braced myself for whatever she was going to say next. Whatever had run through my head, I wasn’t expecting what came next.

I was being asked to go to a beach where there had apparently been a number of dead birds found, as well as a seal (or maybe a porpoise). I was to test the seal for avian influenza and to do so would involve taking brain and lung samples, while fully dressed in all my protective gear, including my space-age hood, which circulates air through filters and blows it on my face.

I did double check about the hood. After all, I have tested dead birds in Norway for avian influenza and nobody even reminded me to wear a mask. But the answer was yes, I had to wear the hood. To be fair, brain sampling required a hammer, so spray was quite possible, but what struck me as particularly amusing was that this wasn’t a beach in the middle of nowhere. It was near a relatively popular west-coast holiday resort. I understand there were background discussions going on about whether we should let the police know. I was half imagining television cameras turning up, creating mass panic over people donning virtual space suits to approach dead animals that, half an hour earlier, someone’s dog might well have been sniffing.

Having spent two hours on Wednesday evening, learning about techniques for sampling marine wildlife and refreshing myself on donning and doffing PPE safely, and another hour on Thursday morning, ensuring I had everything in the car I might need, I drove an hour and a half and met my colleague , an experienced animal health officer, at the beach.

Partly because it was already warm, and partly to avoid causing alarm, I had decided that we should plot the position of the animals first, then get our final permission and instructions to test from VENDU (the Veterinary Exotic Notifiable Disease Unit). My plan was to photograph the animal or bird (necessary so that an expert can make sure what species it is) and get OS coordinates for each. All those details have to be recorded, so it made sense to do that before getting all the kit on.

In the event, what actually happened was that we walked onto the beach, made our way to the mark on the satellite image where the seal carcase had been recorded, and found… only tyre tracks. There were a number of dog walkers on the beach, so my colleague began to ask whether any of them had seen anything. None of them had. We walked on down the beach. No dead seal. No bird carcasses either.

I called my veterinary advisor. Was it possible the local authority, or someone, had already been and removed the seal? In the background, she started to make enquires to all the possible agencies and groups that might possibly have done so. In the meantime, my colleague and I walked on, scouring the beach with our eyes. After all, the worst possible scenario I could imagine was that we failed to find it after all the prep and travel, only for it to be reported again the next day.

The tyre tracks were explained – the local council had been out, but hadn’t found anything apparently. Nor did we. Despite walking for half an hour along the beach, the only things we found were a number of dead jelly fish and one, single, very rotten bird carcase, where there was nothing much left except bones and a wing. Eventually, we had to admit defeat and turn back. All that remained was to call VENDU and call off the hunt.

I did that, back at my car. I was just driving off when VENDU called back and asked whether we could go back and sample the bird. I said no. Sampling is from the cloaca and the back of the throat. Neither of those would have been identifiable. Not only that, but it was a good half-hour walk back to where we had seen it and there was no guarantee we’d find it again as, by that time, I’d abandoned all thoughts of OS coordinates.

We’ve been told that in hot weather, we have been allocated a £2 cold drinks allowance, so when I stopped for lunch, I ordered an iced caramel mocha. £2 doesn’t come close to covering it, but it was delicious, as was the goats’ cheese salad I ordered along with it.

I had a pleasant drive back down the Galloway Trail. Really, it ended up being one of those rare days where I look back and want to laugh and feel highly pleased that someone actually paid for me to do that. There are truly awful moments in this line of work, but there are some great ones too. And next time I am asked to go on a report case, there will be things I learned this time that will be put to good use.

I rounded off the week reading the TB test. Sadly, there were some animals that tested positive. Another farm, now under restrictions, with thousands of animals that all need to be tested. If I were in charge, I would be looking at banning moving cattle from high risk zones and into Scotland. I know there’s a lot of negativity about red tape, but the eventual cost of allowing those movements is unreasonably high. Then again, after 15 years in Norway, I’d be on board for massive limitation on moving animals around.

Thanks for reading. I hope you have a good week.

Deer in the Distance

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It’s been another week of contrasts. At work, I am chasing my tail a lot of the time. I’m behind on paperwork, some of it complicated paperwork, that requires a lot of concentration and reading around the questions that I have to answer. APHA has what is called a Framework Agreement with the Local Authority, because we work together. We are regulatory, they are an enforcement agency, so complementary.

If you feel slightly lost at that last sentence, you may have an inkling of how I am feeling. There are about twenty pages to fill in, and sixty three pages altogether in the document. I have to read and digest the forty three in order to understand what they want me to write in the twenty and there are snippets on different pages about how to address each reply. Then I have to assess whether the reply (which is about what the LA intend to do – gleaned in a meeting, so based on notes I took about what they said) meets or exceeds the minimum standard. There was nothing about this in my veterinary degree! I guess the one good thing I should consider is that at least I am doing it in my mother tongue!

On top of that, I’m dealing with a TB breakdown. When we’ve found TB on a farm, we have to do a series of tests at sixty day intervals. Part of it is a skin test – injecting tuberculin (purified proteins from bacterial cultures) – to see if there is an immune reaction. In addition, we take blood samples in the early stages. The blood test is more likely to find animals in the early stages of the disease.

Because the skin test can only be done every sixty days (before that, the tuberculin causes desensitisation, so no reaction) what usually happens is that there are periods of inaction, followed by a massive flurry of activity as any positive reactors have to be culled and checked for lesions at the slaughterhouse. They are under restrictions on the farm, so moving them requires – you guessed it – a whole load of paperwork. I am currently in that flurry, so alongside the Framework, there’s a lot going on.

As if that wasn’t enough to be going on with, there’s a bonus I can achieve if I can demonstrate I have jumped through various hoops to show I have progressed at work and am therefore worth more. The deadline for that is the end of June.

I probably should have been working on this for the last year, to make sure I ticked all thirty eight of the boxes, some of which involve training people inside and outside the agency. As well as writing thirty eight mini-essays, demonstrating my super-competence, I am currently creating a training program for those going out to do a DRF – the epidemiological investigation we carry out in TB breakdown cases – and may also go to a Local Authority meeting to train them on how to spot foot and mouth. All that in the next two weeks.

Really, the Norwegian method of progressive pay, based on assessment meetings with your manager, with the possibility of promotion from first vet to senior vet if you demonstrate a willingness to take on responsibility is much more efficient. The irony is, that used to be the same in the UK civil service. In trying to make everything cheaper, they’ve ended up with enormous inefficiency. Even more ironically, if I was in a quieter region, with less urgent work, I’d have way more time for the box-ticking games. The idea that I’m no more useful than I was on the day I arrived, unless I can tick these boxes is just silly.

Still, there are lovely benefits thrown in. On Wednesday this week, I took a day away from all the paperwork to go to a meeting run by the British Deer Veterinary Association. It was down at Fountains Abbey in North Yorkshire, so I was able to stay with mum and dad on Tuesday and Wednesday nights and drive over there for the day. The lectures were really interesting and focused on things that were relevant to what I do. There was a talk on welfare at the time of killing – a hot topic for APHA – as well as information on the levels of TB in wild deer and the risk that represents to farmed animals. I must admit that my conclusion was that the UK is never going to be TB free, but really it was a very interesting day and a lovely break from my day to day activities.

The day ended with a walk around the deer park, which was very beautiful. The deer were mostly just dots in the distance, but it was a lovely end to the day.

The drive back took me over the moors and I couldn’t resist stopping to take a few photos along the way. The light wasn’t quite as gorgeous as it had been in the morning as I drove over, but now I had no deadline for getting to where I was going.

And so I will leave you with my June award for WalkFit, which I have already completed. As I was searching for the icon, I saw there’s another challenge coming up in three days, so I shall tackle that when it arises. Thanks for reading and a good week to all of you.

The Liberation Convoy

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One of the highlights of my Shetland trip was visiting the Liberation Convoy which visited Lerwick while I was there. My friends, Melanie and John Arthur came over from Whalsay and together we explored the Norwegian ships which had served in the World Wars and were commemorating 80 years from the end of World War II.

Though it was a fascinating experience there was, as always when thinking about wars, a heavy sense of grief and loss. On the first ship we explored, Hestmanden, we read many stories about the young men, British and Norwegian, who served on board this and other ships. There was devastation brought to so many lives, both those of the young men lost and even of those who came back alive but broken.

One of the most haunting things I read was that many of the sailors who served in WWII were not even welcomed back in Norway at the end of the war. Norway was occupied for most of the war, so many of them could not go home during wartime. By the time liberation occurred, they had been outside of Norway for longer than was allowed, and having not been back, they did not have the right to return. Many did not get back in until 1947 as they waited for papers to be sorted out.

I guess the leaders were dealing with their own devastation, but if there was ever a time for rules to be pushed aside, surely that should have been it? Sometimes Norwegian life was uncomfortable for me as I didn’t really know or understand all the rules or expectations and occasionally, would come up against them and know I didn’t really fit in. It’s hard to explain, but I can’t imagine this particular circumstance having occurred in the U.K.

John Arthur, who is co-owner of a fishing boat and a sailor himself, was particularly interested in the engines. It was incredible to see the machinery from 1911, still in working order and very much still a living memorial. There were oily rags and modern tools to keep everything going.

In a converse to the non-understanding of the rules I mentioned above, there was a sense of freedom in many parts of Norwegian life that doesn’t exist in the U.K. This was reflected in our exploration of these vessels.We were allowed in almost every area of Hestmanden, climbing steep ladders, allowed to poke in corners that I know in the U.K. would have been chained off as too dangerous to enter. I feel I’m talking too much about me and my reflections on living as a foreigner in Norway and not enough about the ships, but it is opening up these thoughts as I am writing this, so you’re just going to have to share them!

Hestmanden was a cargo ship and many of her stories were of sailing in convoys, where many accompanying ships were destroyed and the devastation of how it felt to be a survivor when you had witnessed so much death and lost so many friends and acquaintances. The Andholmen, which we visited next had seen more direct action.

Built as a fishing boat in 1938, she was requisitioned in 1940 by the Norwegian navy up in Narvik in Northern Norway. Germany controlled the only deep water landing place, so small vessels like the Andholmen were used to put allied soldiers ashore.

Later she worked between Shetland and Norway and then was based in Peterhead. It’s not so obvious from that photo, but she was armed and still ready to go.

Climbing down into the cabin, there were tidy bunks tucked away in corners and many more weapons, presumably a collection and not necessarily used on Andholmen herself. The cold metal of the guns makes quite a contrast against the warmth of the wood of which the ship is built. Unlike Hestmanden, which was set up as a museum, this was much smaller, but equally fascinating as a historic part of the war effort.

We didn’t get the chance to go aboard the Arnefjord, but she was one of the ships that worked as part of the “Shetland Bus” service that brought resistance fighters from Norway to the relative safety of Scotland.

The Erna and the Heland were also fishing boats, requisitioned for the Shetland Bus. It was a wonderful experience to see them eighty years later, moored again in Lerwick harbour.

The rest of my week in Shetland was filled with sunshine and coastal views, from cliffs to rocky shores and wonderful golden beaches. Thanks again to Lindsay and Melanie for a fantastic holiday.

Leaving at the end was sad, but I hope to be able to go back. Triar also had a good time, I think.

See you next time.

A Seal before Breakfast

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Triar and I had a wonderful trip to Shetland. Traveling with him is always a joy. He makes me proud and other people smile. We headed up from Settle on the train, changing at Carlisle, walking from Central to Queen Street in Glasgow, then on up to Aberdeen. The Palm Court Hotel made us very welcome and the breakfast was delicious. I think we may head up there sometime for a weekend break, but that’s a decision for another day.

The Hrossey was not due to sail until five, so we stayed in the hotel until eleven, then strolled into town. A brief shower sent me into a cafe, where for the first time ever, as I ordered my coffee, I was asked if I wanted some chicken and water for my dog. Of course I said yes. He deserved it, after all.

Once aboard the Hrossey, he quickly made himself at home.

It was something of a rough crossing, so we didn’t sleep much, but we arrived safely and on time in Lerwick on Sunday morning. Lindsay’s house, where we would be staying, is on the edge of Lerwick, so we set off to walk there, passing the Norwegian named Sandveien and Kantersted on the way.

Lindsay had told me she was going to be eating low-carb and I arrived to the wonderful aroma of a roasting joint of Shetland lamb. We cooked and ate a late breakfast and then headed back out. Melanie (you may remember I spent Wool Week with her last year) was playing in the Mandolin Band as a part of Shetland Folk Festival and I didn’t want to miss it!

After that, the Mae Trio played a twenty minute set, while three little girls danced and spun.

It was a lovely atmosphere, but with only five hours of not-very-good sleep, and with Triar alone in a strange house, I decided we should head back and eat some of that delicious lamb before an early night.

Triar and I were up bright and early the next morning. Unsurprising, I guess, having gone to bed at seven. With Walkfit in mind, we headed out for a morning walk along the road that followed the coastline south. It was beautiful, with the grey rocks, the quiet centre of Lerwick across the bay and the still water under a gentle sky.

In the other direction, lay rocky promontories and islets.

It felt wonderful, walking along that quiet road, going who knows where. Then to cap it all, Triar spotted movement in the water.

To my delight, it was a common seal. Within moments, it hauled itself out of the water and onto a rock, gazing at us as we gazed back.

A thousand steps or so more, we turned to head back. It was breakfast time, after all and still just the start of our Shetland adventure.

And now, back home as I am, I am going to pause there and continue tomorrow. The joiner arrived at 08:23 this morning and is upstairs attaching doors and it’s time for breakfast here too. Tomorrow there will be wartime boats and sunny white beaches, but for now, I’ll leave you with the view from Lindsay’s window and wish you an enjoyable start to the weekend. Thanks for reading.

An Unplanned Benefit

Blog, Food, Holiday, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Yorkshire Dales, , , , , ,

I had a great visit to Stavanger, visiting John and Yoana. It’s not always easy when you live in a different country from close family, but at least it’s only a short hop on a plane from Manchester to Southwest Norway.

There weren’t so many photo opportunities, but there was some wonderful food. We took a trip to a couple of my old haunts in Egersund. Lovely coffee and a club sandwich in Mokka was a good start to the day, then a visit (though sadly no swim) to the open air swimming pool.

We also ate super-tasty homemade pizza. Yoana’s delicious sourdough bases have always been delicious, but they’ve invested in a pizza oven and the results are incredible.

The whole thing was over far too soon, but I was treated to a beautiful sunset as I took off on the flight home.

I’ve been keeping up with my WalkFit targets. This week it’s up to 7,500 steps daily. Still don’t think I’ve lost any weight, nor do I feel better – I mostly feel tired and heavy. That said, I am managing it and it’s not getting worse, so I shall persevere. Once I get home from my holiday, I’ll start working on my eating patterns, but not yet!

I’ve been back in the Dales now for three days. Tomorrow I head north to Aberdeen, then on Saturday I take the overnight boat to Lerwick. It’s been warm and sunny in the days since I came back. A bit too warm for walking, in general, but as Triar and I have to get our steps in, we’ve been getting out early, while it’s still cool.

Yesterday, I headed into Settle. There are far fewer cars at 7:30 am, and hardly any people. For the first time ever, I managed to get some vehicle-free photos in the town centre.

We wandered back through alleyways and ginnels.

Lunch was delicious: chicken and bacon salad at Elaine’s Tearoom at Feizor. I wasn’t expecting hot breaded chicken, but it was delicious, as was the thick, tasty chunks of bacon.

This morning’s early start took me up Lodge Lane, then on down into Watery Lane. Such a gorgeous morning, walking through dappled sunlight in the cool morning air.

I will leave you with a final view looking back at the wateriest part of Watery Lane. This isn’t my normal day or time for posting, but I should be arriving in Lerwick on Saturday morning, so the chances of me posting anything then are fairly small.

Thanks for reading and have a good week.

Snow and Frost

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It feels like ages since I was down in Yorkshire, listening to the Met Office warnings about snow, but when I look back at this week’s pictures, I can see the snowfall was only last Sunday, which coincidentally was my birthday. I know the situation was unpredictable and that snow in the UK causes more disruption because the country is not set up for it, but the relentless warnings felt like they were over the top, not least because it was predicted the whole thing was only likely to last a day. It seems to me that an appropriate response, when the snow is going to melt within 24-48 hours, would be to remind everyone to avoid unnecessary travel on those days, then sit back and enjoy the scenery.

I woke at three in the morning and saw a thin layer of snow and assumed that might be it and went back to sleep. I’d left the curtains and blinds open so I could see and I confess I was amazed to wake again at six to see the entire window was obscured with snow, lying on the windowsill and sticking to the glass. Realistically this meant the snow was warm and sticky. When it’s snowing at minus 8, the flakes are usually tiny and don’t stick to anything, but drift at the slightest air movement. However, it did mean that it had snowed properly and wasn’t just a dusting!

I wondered last winter, our first back in the UK, whether Triar missed the snow, so knowing there was a good covering, I got out of bed to take him outside. It was a wonderful start to my birthday, watching him doing zoomies on the lawn and burying his face up to his ears.

Later, I went for a walk, but it was cold and windy and the sky was grey. I took a few photos, but didn’t linger long as I hadn’t dressed for the windchill, which wasn’t apparent among the houses, but only on venturing out into the fields.

I headed north on Monday and the roads were fine, though I travelled with blankets, warm soup and plenty of food. The rest of the week has been dominated, both at home and at work, by low temperatures.

At work, low temperatures are often significant as freezing conditions can affect the welfare of animals on the farm. For example, if the water in all the troughs freezes solid, it can be difficult to ensure all the animals have enough to drink. A cow drinks a lot of water. Part of my week has been spent making decisions about whether sales at markets can go ahead when their water has frozen and they can’t cleanse and disinfect. I haven’t personally been out blood sampling, but for colleagues who have, cold fingers are not the only challenge. If your sample freezes before you get it into the insulated, warmed box, it will be defunct. Repeat testing is expensive, so careful judgement is needed on whether to go ahead.

At home, it hasn’t been the best. Though the upstairs rooms in my house are now insulated, they still don’t have doors or radiators. The radiator in my hall has been going full pelt all week, but the passage is still too chilly for comfort. Quite unexpectedly though, the electrician/handyman who is running the project on my house, arrived to do some work downstairs on Tuesday. Back when the initial plan was hatched, it was suggested the ceiling in the downstairs bathroom would be lowered, partly to allow for various waste pipes and fan ducts to be hidden. I wasn’t sure if this was still going ahead, but I came back on Tuesday evening to find that not only was the bathroom ceiling being lowered, with added insulation, but he was doing the hallway in the back part of the house as well. That part is an extension with thinner walls and a flat roof and it was only with the onset of winter that I realised how cold that part of the house would be. All very well insulating the upstairs in the main, older part of the house, when the kitchen and bathroom and all the water pipes were out there and unprotected.

The kitchen is now the only bit that isn’t insulated overhead and that part of the house is already noticeably less chilly than the front hallway. There’s still more to do, but in time, I may not have to watch the smart meter ratcheting up a huge figure daily as I’ve chosen to keep the heating running day and night to prevent frozen pipes!

I shall leave you with some frosty pictures, mostly from Blackbird Lane. There is hoar frost collecting in the places where the low, winter sun doesn’t reach and it’s very beautiful. I’ve tried my best to capture it as well as the golden light against that wide, blue sky.

Thanks for reading. Have a good week!

Looking Up

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It feels a long time ago now, but last weekend with Valerie and Charles was wonderful. Having slept well after hot chocolate laced with brandy in the hot tub with Valerie, we all headed out on a drive through Kippen to Fintry. It’s a beautiful area of Scotland and one with some special memories for me. Thirty five years ago, as a vet student, I saw practice in Kippen. It was there that I was first sent in to do a consultation on my own on a lovely grey rabbit. There was also a parrot in the waiting room that used to meow at the dogs, then tell them to shut up, if they started to bark.

We stopped off at the Courtyard Cafe on Knockraich Farm for lunch. It was beautifully decorated for Christmas and the lights at the top of the page were above us as we dined. I had a ploughman’s lunch, followed by a mince pie with Bailey’s flavoured ice cream. It was delicious.

Having stopped off at Lidl, Valerie and I had another hot tub session m this time with gluhwein. The thought has just crossed my mind that I told mum yesterday that I barely drink alcohol, and now I’m making it sound as if we had a truly boozy weekend, but it was a lovely moment and the gluhwein was very reminiscent of Norwegian gløg. All it needed was some chopped nuts and raisins.

We went to the Christadelphian church service in Stirling on Sunday morning, where I was made to feel very welcome, as I have been on the other occasions I’ve attended. We stayed for a shared lunch and afterwards I rolled up my sleeves and did some of the washing up. I can feel a real sense of community there, which has been lost in many places, following Covid.

We headed off for a last coffee at the River House in Stirling. Valerie had promised me Christmas decorations and it didn’t disappoint. I love the contrast between the classic beauty of the Courtyard Cafe and the exuberant British, Nordic style decorations here below.

Back to work on Monday and a feeling of nervousness as I went out to blood sample some sheep that had moved from parts of England that are now under restrictions for Bluetongue. It’s too cold now for the mosquitoes that carry it to become infective, but the two sheep both came up a few months back, when the weather was warmer and before the restrictions were in place. Tracing a disease that isn’t spread by direct contact, and which may not show up for some months is a complicated business.

So far, it hasn’t been found up here, but we are staying vigilant. It had been a long time since I had taken blood samples from sheep, but the two visits went okay and I sent all the paperwork in by the next day. I haven’t heard back yet from the debriefing team, even though I spotted an error in one of the forms, so it will doubtless come winging back to me at some point. There are now confirmed cases of avian influenza down in Norfolk, so there could be busy times coming up.

Tuesday was an easier day; I visited a couple of vet practices. Most mixed vet practices in Scotland do some work for the government, checking for notifiable diseases like anthrax, brucellosis and TB. As part of my job, I go out and visit them, partly to check they have suitable equipment, but also for outreach. They are routinely out on many more farms than I am, and if they see anything that we could help with, I hope that they would feel that reaching out was possible. Vets used to work for the ministry for years, but now there’s a constant churning of staff and that continuity has been lost. Changing that will require the political will to improve and invest, so I’m not holding my breath, but in the meantime, I try to present a friendly face.

I also stopped off at ReadingLasses in Wigtown for a lunch of coffee and cake, with a good book to read. The cake was delicious, and this time I bought the book too.

And now, it’s the last weekend before Christmas and I’m going to spend some of it painting. The work on my house is progressing and, having painted the new shower room, the joiner came yesterday to fit the waterproof boards behind the shower. I made a start on one of the bedrooms last night. It still astonishes me how much of the paint sinks into the new plaster. It’s much harder work than normal painting, but also important to do a good job. Hopefully, in the not-too-distant future, I’ll be ready for visitors.

Anyway, I wish you all a peaceful and happy Christmas. Thanks for reading.

Food and Festivity

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This week I’ve been out for two Christmas dinners! Last weekend, despite Storm Darragh doing its best to keep me home, I made a run for Yorkshire on the Friday. Mum had booked us a meal at the lovely Middle Studfold Farm on Sunday and I didn’t want to miss it. Middle Studfold is a farm where they do bed and breakfast as well as meals at weekends. Set in Ribblesdale in the heart of the Yorkshire Dales, it’s a gorgeous, stone farmhouse. The attached tearoom was tastefully decorated and wonderfully cosy.

We were soon pulling Christmas crackers and enjoying the Christmas music. I had chosen field mushroom with goats cheese as my starter and it didn’t disappoint.

Then came the traditional turkey with trimmings. The parsnip was particularly delicious, mashed and flavoured with horseradish and the stuffing has inspired me to experiment with adding chestnuts to my usual recipe.

I had to head up the road soon afterwards, but it would have been wonderful to have lingered over dinner and perhaps stayed overnight. I would highly recommend it for a lovely warm Yorkshire Dales welcome.

It was a good week at work and I revisited one of my welfare cases and found no further problems, so I was able to close the case for now, which was a good feeling in the run up to Christmas. Because of the way the algorithms are set up, there will be another inspection, likely within the next year, which is also good as we will be able to monitor whether the changes are continuing. I hope they are as it felt like a positive visit with real progress being made.

There was a second festive feast for me this week with A Novel Approach, the writing group I am involved with in Lockerbie. We’ve had a couple of mini writing retreats recently, which I have enjoyed enormously and now it was time to celebrate. I decided against the turkey this time, though everyone else’s did look very good. I had a beef collop on clapshot with a haggis fritter. If that all needs translating, a collop seems to be a slice of meat and the word is thought to be derived from escalope. It was circular and I had wondered whether it was from the cheek, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Clapshot is mixed potato and swede. The haggis fritter probably speaks for itself and it was all served with a whisky infused gravy, so there was a lovely Scottish flavour to the whole thing.

Regular readers might remember that I am using the Second Nature app, kindly provided by the NHS and despite all this food, I am still following it. The principle of having half your plate filled with vegetables, quarter with protein and quarter with complex carbs is actually quite easy to fit in with meals out. Even though I don’t follow it perfectly, it’s far easier than having to weigh everything at every meal and I have lost one and a half stone so far, but that is why there are rarely cake pictures on here these days. That’s not to say it never happens, but it’s now a rare treat and most of the time I vote for the healthier option.

Somerton House Hotel where we had our Christmas meal was also decorated. I love the whole build up to Christmas. It lends such cosiness to the darkest days of the winter.

And now I am at Valerie’s for the weekend. I fear there may be cake in the near future as she has proposed a visit to Fintry and a garden centre today. Last night I was greeted by various gardens and houses crammed with lights and illuminations and I was reminded of walking round the village at this time of year, when the children were young, searching out the “crazy houses” with their wonderful light shows. Yesterday evening’s soak in the hot tub with hot chocolate was a relaxing start to the weekend. Now I can hear people outside scraping ice from car windows, so maybe tonight, I will have the hot tub on ice experience.
Have a lovely weekend all and thanks for reading!