Sarahmade

While dozing in bed this morning Kate and I were rudely awaken by something smashing into my window. It was one of the 100 or so pigeons that hang out on the building opposite being a bit stupid. I’m really glad my window wasn’t open but I just looked at my window and there is a mark like this on it:

It makes me feel a bit sick.

I can’t really tell you what I was expecting from the Storr because I have never taken part in such an event. Such events don’t happen very often.

I also can’t show you what it was like because no photo taken in the pitch black on a mountain with only a full moon, relfectors guiding a path and hundreds of head torches can possibly do it justice.

I can’t do justice to the sounds of walking through a forest with music bouncing of rock, the poetry of Sorley Maclean and the silence of 35 people walking along taking it all in.

It felt like I was just going to ride a roller coaster, but a grown up roller coaster. I knew it was going to be a little bit scary but I knew it was going to be controlled. We were going to an art event but we had to work for it and wear proper walking boots and five layers and gloves and a hat.

The Isle of Skye was at its best when we emerged from the forest and looked behind us to see the full moon reflecting on the water and islands and mountains in the distance. Following the lights and the sounds up we stopped on a narrow path to take it in and only then you realise when you shine your torch down that there is a seemingly endless drop and the wind is getting stronger and any stronger you might fall off. Then at the top when you reach the lit Old man of Storr you sit in a natural ampitheatre and watch the rocks light up and a male dancer making shadows in this vast area and you wonder how you could be so cold in August and you wonder what the dancer is wearing that allows him to dance for an hour on a mountain on the Isle of Skye everynight for 6 weeks at 1am.

On the way down you hear the voice of a solo singer singing gaelic tunes and then you see her on a solo hill, the only thing lit for miles, apart from the man made star constellations on the islands opposite.

I can’t explain what it felt like because I have never experienced anything like it.

The Storr in the day

This is the view from the back…

This is the view from the side…

The buildings come with the view, the balloons don’t but the seagull most certainly does and usually at 4.30am with his mates.

I don’t really know myself at the moment. I have wireless broadband in my flat (only one day old) and earlier I looked at the internet while speaking to Tom on my new (freecycled) digital cordless telephone. All courtesy of Tom really.

The low tech world is booming too and my laundry drying rack on a pulley is fantastic as is my terrace and I would recommend everyone having an ensuite loo in their bedroom. I found myself wishing I would get a tummy bug just because my new setup would be so convenient.

I’m off to the Isle of Skye this weekend for mostly low tech but there may be a bit of tech on saturday night up a mountain.

It’s 10 years ago this week since the Blur vs oasis chart battle. I actually remember listening to it on Radio 1 on the Sunday night. Do they still play the charts on Radio 1 on Sunday night?

I think the best feeling has to be when you pick up the keys to your new flat, you go round there and everything is empty. You are the only one with keys as your new flatmate hasn’t picked them up yet. The previous people living there have left you a bottle of very nice wine. You go up to your room and lie on the floor boards to see what view you will have when you wake up in the morning. You drink beer on your new terrace in the evening sun and then go and use your loo in your en suite and realise it has a half flush and a full flush function. You text everyone you know to tell them.

It happens so rarely but it is the best feeling.