I can't sleep, so I am writing about Jura and Islay.
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| A Pap of Jura |
This year there was Skellig Michael and Rome, of course and then there was Jura.
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| Just on the shore of the camp site |
The five of us packed a car and headed to Jura. It was a 12 hour journey to get there. Through it all we held a sixth person - Jo. And we played music and cursed and cried and laughed - I saw a whale. And many wonderful birds. Osprey. I know it is an Osprey because it is a raptor that flies like a seagull. We also saw curlew, redshank, hen harrier - the first time I had ever seen a hen harrier - and we lay down in meadows. The dryness of the weather meant almost no midges. There were plenty of horseflies though and by the end of the party I was covered in bites. I had to utterly cover myself in insect repellent. I have discovered they can bite through lycra and in the end my ass was saved only because tied my fleece around my butt to stop them from attacking it.
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| Lara and I examine a dragonfly |
The weather was unbelievable. Who knows if we will ever see its like again? There was no rain. It was in the mid to high twenties all day, every day, and we were able to swim and walk and sit in the sun without impunity. We cooked and sang. We drank and had venison burgers. We chatted to locals. We drank lots of coffee. More whisky. Bottles of wine.
I was really the oldest in the group, pushing 47. The others were 44 and 45 and Lara, of course, is a full 13 years younger than I. Amongst us we had 18 children and here we were, camping and being with each other like we hadn't a care in the world. A group of women, seeking refuge in the wilds of Jura where everything, all life had been suspended for five days.
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| Whiskey tour - the warehouse in Bruchlladich |
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Bruichladdich Aqua - it is a real Pantone colour - and I love it
Possibly more than the whisky itself |
There were many serious and earnest people at the distillery. It was like they were visiting a cathedral. To me, it was really interesting, so see the mythology which has grown up around whisky. My favourite are the peaty ones - I tried the Optomore and it was awesome. So awesome I bought the T-shirt cos a whole bottle was £125 and I ain't paying that amount for it, no matter how much I like it. I really don't think I am EVER going to like whisky. If it is there I will drink it and then I will rapidly pass out. Which is what more or less happened. Most of the rest of the day was lived in a fugue state.
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| Deer watching |
Jura has 6,000 deer. It has more deer than it has people or indeed cattle and sheep. For some reason the deer don't destroy the habitat in the same way that cattle and sheep do - probably because they are penned by fences. They roam free and nibble at the juniper berries. They are also very tame. They can come really close to humans, even though they are culled - to about 1,000 a year. Wild Jura venison is really delicious when made into burgers. There is a heavy gamey juicy taste to it. Of course all the deer were growing their antlers which were velvety and very beautiful. Deer antlers decorate everything in Jura. According to one story, Jura means Deer in Old Norse.
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| Did someone say gin? |
Gin is made by distilling gin spirits with some juniper berries and then adding 'botanicals' to them. This is added in the still, and the spirits are allowed to pass through the plants which have been gathered and they then collect the essential oils of the plants and this then creates the unique taste of each kind of gin. Lussa gin is the only distillery on Jura and it is run by three women. The gin has sea lettuce, ground elder, roses, bog mrytle and a few other plants. What I loved most about it was how much of the plants were gathered on the island in a sustainable way. And also the taste was seaweed and finished with rose. I more or less drank the whole freaking bottle of 250 mls neat. It was just fantastic. However, I do think it is going to be a one off. I really do not think I am now able to look at gin or whisky without feeling both nostalgic and bokey.
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| Evening swim |
There is a beautiful loch at the base of the paps and we went swimming there, as the evening drew in. We were so late that by the time we got back to the pub it was 10.30 pm.
I still have all my horsefly bites and the few midges which have eaten my face, making me look like I have acne, as Oisin so sweetly put it. By the time the holiday over was I burnt to a crisp, covered in all kinds of insect bites and my grass rash had returned. I was in a total state, but I would not be anything else for this world. To live a safe life, to not say yes to the many things, to be wrapped in certainty and respectability, to be perfect, to never have drawn blood and have given it, what is the point really?
To be groomed and coiffured and mind your ps and qs and never ask the question that was meant to be asked... there is no life to be had in that. Live it into the long evening shadows, the conversations had by firelight, beneath the stars, the still waters which reflect all the light in the stretch above and beneath all the skies... all the memories which are to be unmade and remade, and unwound, like the threads which we find our lives by.
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