Laughter is the best medicine

So according to Nicole, we're about to head up to "Glass Cow". You know you're tired when a comment like that turns into a half hour joke, and we're all rolling on the floor. But we're all super psyched. Warning: anyone living in the UK... stay off the roads! We're renting a car. We're heading up on Friday, and will be returning on Tuesday.

Another moment of hilarity today: Kristen hands over a £20 to a street vender at the market. He hands it back with a perturbed look on his face.
- I can't accept this note. Who gave it to you?
- My grandfather, before I left Canada!
Apparently her grandfather grew up in the UK and moved to Canada 60 years ago. These bills were from way back when, and had since been pulled from circulation.

Home Sweet Home

I’ve now been here for a week, and I feel amazingly settled-in. It was meeting my second housemate yesterday that made me realise just how comfortable I feel here. I am confident about getting around, I know my neighborhood within a 30min-1hr walk in any direction, I look the right way before crossing the street, I can hand over change without having to read the coins... All the important skills in life ;)

Oww.... My feet hurt

Strange... I survived 2 weeks without a cell phone. Which is quite a feat, considering that to me it’s not simply a way of communicating. It’s also my watch, my alarm clock, and my organizer. My life tends to fall apart when I don’t have my cell phone, or rather my “mobile”, beeping at me to let me know I have to be somewhere in 10 mins.
But not having Internet is sending me into extreme withdrawal. I think I’m even demonstrating physical addiction withdrawal symptoms. If we lived in Greater London, Internet access would be no issue, but here in the outer Buroughs, it’s nearly impossible to get online. Only 11 more days until the house is connected... Only 11 more days...

Other than that, I’m settling into my new neighbourhood nicely. My first housemate has arrived, and another two are expected next week. Nicole is super nice, and is interested in doing all the touristy things with me. It sure was strange hearing a Canadian accent after two weeks of Scottish brogue and English accents. Some of their vocabulary was already starting to creep in (I was starting to use words like “brilliant”, “lou”, and “chap”), but everything’s back to normal again.

We spent the last two days exploring London. Yesterday we visited St. Paul’s Cathedral, then crossed over the Millenium Bridge and walked the South Shore of the Thames and then back across to Westminster. They’ve got some sort of festival going on on the South Shore, so there were some neat sidewalk acts, lots of colours, and lots of people. It was a gorgeous day, as you will see in the pictures.
We signed up for the evening Ghost Bus Tour, so we had dinner while we waited, then decided to pop down to Buckingham Palace, and then meander around the art exhibits in Trafalgar square. Everything is so accessible here. It really doesn’t take that long to walk from one place to the other. Or maybe it’s that I’m not under any time constraints yet.

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Here I am in my new home

I made it safely to Essex (Chadwell Heath)! The house is really cute. I'll post pictures once I have regular internet access, or find a cafe with Wi-Fi.
I arrived late yesterday afternoon, immediately bought an "Oyster Card" for the transit, and found my way to a shopping mall in Romford. I needed bedding before the shops closed ;) The good news is that I didn't get lost either on the way there, or on the way home. So I'm well on my way to getting to know the neighborhood. Tomorrow I tackle London.

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Michael's Wood

We were bussed to Aith today (well, yesterday). It is our last full day of classes.
I had signed up for a trip this afternoon, but am skipping out on it, because I'm having such a blast in my new tutor's class. He's Andrew Gifford from Fiddler's Bid (whom I'm going to have to see while I'm in the UK... I've seen three of their band members perform this past week, and would love to see them perform together). Not every good musician is a good teacher, but he pulls it off.
AND over the last few days we haven't learned anywhere near as many tunes, so I feel like I'm actually able to start remembering some of them. I think my favourites are the Trowey tunes, given (or stolen) by the Shetlanders from the Trows.
I've slowly been accumulating information about these little, furry, red people over the week. They don't bother mortals... much. They're fun loving, can be mischievous, and are excellent fiddle players though they only have three fingers. Their tunes tend to be fun and fairly simple, though sometimes they seem to just *stop*. Because when the sun comes up, they turn to stone.

Before supper, I took a walk through Micheal's Wood. There are no true woods here on the Shetlands, because the wind and salt spray prevents trees from growing. But these woods were planted in dedication to a young musician who died of cancer. It's fairly small, planted on the croft he grew up on, but they've set up a meandering path that makes it seem much larger. The Philosopher's Path has quotes set up along the way, that either make you pause and think, or laugh. There are all sorts of fun nooks for children, and beautiful places to stop and rest. It wasn't sad, but rather peaceful and refreshing. I climbed up over the hill beyond the woods and strolled through the moors overlooking the village and locks. I love feeling the wind in my hair, and seeing the fields ripple with it. It was wonderful being able to recharge, spend some time alone and with God. I only had a couple hours, but I could have spent all evening exploring.

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So much to do, so little time! (Wednesday/Thursday)

Jim, my fiddle "tutor", opened the week with a story about how he had just been doing a fiddle workshop in France. He told that the language barrier had been a real problem, and said how he was excited for that not to be an issue this week. I think my face must have registered quite a bit of disbelief. Though at that point I had only been here for a day, I had already had to add quite a few new vocabulary words to my bank, as well as deceipher some pretty thick accents. Here are a few examples that come to mind right away:
     peerie = small
     fae = from
     bairn = baby/child
     trow = small mischievous critter
However, I was reassured last night when I found out that they can't even understand each other. I was taking a break from the dancing and was chatting with Lawrence, one of the local storytellers. As it was just after midnight, we were wondering how late the dance went. Richard, one of the organizers, was standing in a group nearby and shouted over "'alf an oor yet!" to which Lawrence yelled back "Happy New Year!"

Twice this week they have bussed us out to other communities for the day. Fiddle classes continue as usual, but there are also optional trips around the countryside. Even the bus ride, and the opportunity to interact with the different locals gives you more of a flavour of the islands. I'm finding it extremely difficult to capture on film. Part of it is the wind, the horizontal rain, the shifting shadows when the sun is out, and the smells. Part of it is the sheer expanse of everything surrounding you.

I think that everything started catching up with me on Wednesday. I had a pretty rough afternoon. Everything seems very similar on the surface, but there are little differences that are hard to pinpoint. Almost hitting people that you pass in the hall, because you move to the right and they move to the left, reaching for the toilet handle and having to readjust your aim for the right side. Not being able to all out play your fiddle, because you don't share a single tune in all of your repertoire. Trying to assimilate a new style so that you can start picking up even portions of new tunes played at breakneck speed in the sessions. Not enough sleep over an extended period of time. Jet-lag. No alone time. It wears away at you. I had a pretty rotten attitude on Wednesday afternoon, and a sour disposition.

But I'm back now. I had to get away for a bit, go for a walk in the "bracing" wind. Humble myself and go apologize to a few key people.

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The toilets here flush funny

Well, calling this week "Fiddle Frenzy" is right! (Jet lag + 6 tunes/day + foreign bowing patterns) x 7 = NOT sustainable! 
I have an excellent "tutor", as they call them here, named Jim Leask. But they litterally have us going for 16 hours a day! I am more than getting my bang for my buck. Nightly concert tickets are included in our tuition, as well as three dances, and nightly sessions that go until 1AM.
Last night we heard Bryan Gear play, followed by Ali Bain and Phil Cunningham. I now understand why they call them Shetland Legends. Wow. And they were hilarious to top it off.
And the dance was way more fun than any of the barn dances I've been to in Whitehorse. Except apparently all the locals already know the dances, so there's no caller. Nothin' like being pulled out on the dance floor and not knowing the steps. LOL. "Just spin when someone grabs you" was the advice I was given. And I've got the steps down pat for the Bernard's Waltz, though casual conversation at the same time is still a little stunted.
And I highly recommend the Isleburgh Hostel. It's apparently the only 5 star hostel in Europe? It's clean, well set up, super secure, and includes free wireless (sorry Green Party, but this is one of the highlights). And it's a seriously easy way to make friends. The hostel is right next door to the community centre where the classes take place, so there are a lot of fellow Fiddle Frenziers, but there are also three francophone ladies in my dorm who I get to speak French with (apparently I don't have an anglophone accent - just Quebecois).
It's a little bit of an emotional roller-coaster. I usually feel like I'm on speed in the morning, but by mid afternoon I'm frustrated and capped out. I REALLY don't want to walk away from this and not have any tunes. So I'm trying to go back over my recordings in what little free time we have, but I usually feel like I'm learning them from scratch. 
They'll give us a copy of the music at the end of the week, but I wish I had it now so that I could write in notes about double stops and bow directions while I remember. "Down, up, down down, up, down, up, down, up up up, down, up up and repeat". Yeah, OK. 
Oh, and THEN I had to point out to him that he was actually doing "down, UP UP, DOWN" when he started adding notes. After we'd been practicing open string bowing patterns for 10 minutes *arched eyebrow*. My fellow classmates apparently aren't even bothering with bow direction.
Anyway, I know some of you are anxious for pictures. Tomorrow we're going to a different part of the island, and I'm skipping out of the afternoon fiddle class and going on the optional trip. I'll take my camera. Pray that it's sunny!

The Shetlands

Made it to the Shetlands! It was like something out of a fairy tale... coming down through the clouds and seeing the rocky shore and green fields surrounded by wild waters. You even pass over the Jarlshof ruins as you come in to land. However, there were no ponies to carry our luggage into the terminal. I'm very disappointed ;)