Plague Island - or is it?

 

Thankfully, the T-G hadn't bothered to lock up and it was fairly easy to gain access by sliding a stout piece of card between the two casements.   Tuppence and I rolled up the Aubusson, tied it with rope, and shoved it out of the window.  There was a lot of rustling as it slid down the ivy and the Moon was shining brightly upon the castle walls leaving us quite exposed to anyone who happened to be having a midnight ramble.  However we had to take the chance because unless we tried to cram it through the waste hole of the 'garderobe' we had no other way of getting it out.

Back at the Outcrop we unrolled the rug.  The map was clearly visible on the woven underside, rather than on the stained and worn 'pile'. 

But what was it a map OF?  Or indeed, where?  We had to bear in mind that we were looking at a reverse image.

There were symbols for water, and a distinct outline of a tiny island.  On the island was the symbol for a church, or at least some sort of religious structure.  

And next to it, a skull and crossbones.

'What does that signify?' asked Geoffrey. 'Pirates?'

'Death,' said Tuppence. 'Poison.  Disease.  It's a plague island.  Of all the rotten luck.'

'So we've wasted our time then,' said Geoffrey. 'The whole point of nicking the map was to find buried treasure.  Gold coins, doubloons, pieces of eight and caskets of jewels.  Because where there's a secret map there's always buried treasure.  Not that we need munny or anything, it's just nice to have the satisfaction of finding it.  Oh well, I suppose we'd better take the rug back before they notice it's missing.'   He reached for the grappling hook.

'Hold up, Geoffrey,' I said.  'Could it be that the skull and crossbones IS a pirate symbol, rather than death or poison, and that there's smuggled treasure hidden there?' 

'Or, perhaps whoever made the map wanted people to think it was a plague island to put them off and there is really a hoard of gold and jewels hidden in a crypt or something,'  said Geoffrey.

'There's only one way to find out.  We have to figure out which island this is and get over there quickstyle,' said Tuppence, twirling a pistol.  'Fetch the coracle Uncle Tuppy, while I fire up the iPhone and do a reverse reverse image search.'

next time - we find the island, only to discover it's already heavily featured as a fun destination on Instagrot and a million people and their kids have already trampled over it, paddle-boarding and barbecuing and defecating everywhere and destroying any potential clues...but the Old Tup was a canny character and nobody's fool.  There were secrets yet to be discovered...and we were the ones to find them - with the additional help of Dave, his trailcam and his newly-developed, super-sensitive 'third eye'.  More on that next time.

Further to my post about M.R. James...

Further to my earlier post about M.R. James, I have all but given up reading his 'Collected Ghost Stories' because as well as putting me off my sleep, they're creeping me out on walks.  This will not do.  Sleeping well and walking in the fresh air are crucial for most people's general well-being, particularly in the case of anyone who, like me, hovers on the verge of insomnia much of the time, and both are interlinked.  I've learned that if I don't get out for an hour's walk in the fresh air during the day, I will not sleep well, unless I'm physically ill.  And if I don't sleep well, I tend to lack the energy to walk. I cannot allow myself to get into that unhealthy cycle. It's not just the exercise that matters. It's the calming, meditative effect of walking and observing nature that allows my mind to settle and relax.   So, I'm modifying my night-time reading and have returned to Richard Lancelyn Green's lengthy and reassuring introduction to the Penguin edition of E.W. Hornung's The Amateur Cracksman, for about the eleventh time.
I say 'all but' and 'modifying' because I'm still dipping into M.R. James, even though it makes me look over my shoulder to check if some nameless beast is following me from the shadows, and I'm frightened to move the duvet in the dark or put the light on in case I find the same awful be-wigged, hairy-mouthed ghastliness has continued to follow me and is now staring at me from hollow, cobwebby eye sockets.  Yesterday I startled a hare when walking by the ruins of Clunie Castle,  an atmospheric place 'steeped in history' if ever there was, and therefore almost certainly haunted, if you believe in such things, and wondered if there was some significance to the hare, given what we know about the mythology surrounding them.
As I looked at the ruins I thought, of course, about James's story 'A View from a Hill'.  I almost wished I had those magic binoculars so that I could see what the castle had looked like in the 1400s when it was built. There are no surviving illustrations, and I can find precious little information about it, which is surprising given that it's a place of some apparent significance and that the ruins are relatively large.
My quest continues.
Overall, it does occur to me that perhaps being creeped out and unsettled - in a mild kind of way - has its merits - it makes you think about things from a different angle.

To be continued...

A Couple of Short Walks.

The island

Reeds, Loch Clunie

Horse Chestnut Candle

A wander by a familiar haunt,  Loch Clunie.  Hoped to see an osprey - didn't. It was sunny-ish, but very very cold for May, and I was tired, so I didn't linger.
I did see a Great Crested Grebe, and a swan...
Next day I walked by Loch of the Lowes; in the fields were several pairs of lapwings (more than I've see in years), and numerous brown hares,  with swifts, martins and swallows flying across.  I also observed a little grebe in another loch, and quite a few tufted ducks.
Still no ospreys.
But it's only a matter of time.

By Loch of the Lowes

Loch of the Lowes

Today's Walk - Clunie

Beavers have had a go at the saplings by the water

A dank and silent pool, that always reminds me of the one at the entrance to Moria, in Lord of the Rings

Finally it feels like Spring is, well, not quite here, but definitely On Its Way.  The snowdrops are over and suddenly daffodils are everywhere.  I went over to my regular haunt - Loch Clunie - with my binoculars, hoping to see an osprey. The male has returned to Loch of the Lowes which is just a few miles further along the road, and you just never know.  I was also keeping an eye out for kites, which I'm seeing more frequently these days.

Not today though.  I did see a number of buzzards, three whooper swans, two mute swans, and some long-tailed tits, and that was about it except for the usual pheasants, crows, and mallard ducks.  And a solitary lapwing flying over the road - I think there might have been another sitting in a field, in fact I'm fairly sure of it, and I hope they are a pair and will nest.

I had a look for frog spawn -  again, nothing.  It is a bit early for it here.

It's still bitterly cold when the sun goes in and the wind blows, but at least the days are longer and there is some warmth around.  

I feel that my brain is still in winter-mode.  Not just my brain - my whole system.

Perhaps I need a de-tox or something.

Or perhaps I should just wait, and see how I feel as the year unfolds...

Today's Walk - Clunie

Loch Clunie - again.  A very dreich day, and I was tired, so didn't walk round it as I usually do.  I admired the masses of snowdrops, which will be followed by an even better display of bluebells as Spring progresses.  Unfortunately my present camera is very basic and can't do them justice.
Good views of Castle Hill (flat-topped mound on the far side) and of the island, with the Bishop of Dunkeld's house.  Obviously it doesn't belong to the Bishop of Dunkeld any more - and hasn't for a couple of hundred years, as I remember.  It's a shell now.  What a shame.  It must have been a great place to hole up in on a wild and stormy night...the only access by boat...looking out at the churning black waters of the loch from an upper window, while sipping a glass of best brandy and gnawing a peacock's leg (or your own, if supplies were low), and driftwood smouldered in the stone fireplace...
The house did actually burn down in the 1950s, but I'm unsure why.  Possibly smouldering driftwood.
Wildlife spotted today included a herd of about a dozen roe deer in a field (unusual to see such a large group in the open), flocks of geese (greylags I think...) and cormorants on the trees on the island.  Mallards and tufted ducks on the loch.  Various small birds such as blackies, robins, coal tits and wrens active in the surrounding woods.

Today's Walk - Loch Clunie (again)

Loch frozen over (all but), geese huddled on the far side, buzzards keening to each other in the freezing cold.  Lots and lots of snowdrops.
Blue sky reflected in the ice.  The air was very still.  We threw stones onto the ice and there was a ringing echo.
I go here a lot and I've described this place before, so I won't go into it all again.  Click on the links below if you'd like to know more.

Clunie

The ramparts on Castle Hill, Clunie, Perthshire.

Loch Clunie and the island from Castle Hill

Walk of the Day - Loch Clunie

The road leading down to the church and loch.

Reed beds at the western edge of the loch.

Clunie church, from the loch side

A walk round Loch Clunie to the church and Castle Hill.  It's a strange place, full of history.  When I first visited about twenty years ago I was chiefly interested in bird and wildlife watching, but I was also immediately aware of an odd atmosphere and I started doing some research.  At that time there was a sign on a stile leading from the car park to the loch stating that the site was managed by Historic Scotland, but it's long gone, and so is the stile, and I now have no idea who owns it or manages it.

I generally park just off the A923 and walk along the road that goes round the loch to the church and Castle Hill.  It's about a mile at most.  There is occasional traffic, but you get good views of the castle and island, and you often see deer, buzzards and small woodland birds, as well as a range of wildfowl on the loch.  The first building you see as you approach is the former manse,  now a family home, and then the church,  a  rather dramatic and gloomy Victorian Gothic structure which like many of similar age is on an ancient site dating back to pre-Christian times.  It has an interesting graveyard with lichen and moss-encrusted headstones dating back to the 1700s, complete with skulls, egg-timers and so forth.  'Here Lie the Dust and Bones...'  'Memento Mori', et cetera.

There is an engraving on a stone under the ivy* at the entrance gate, 'Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God', dated 1672.  There is also a small, even older outbuilding by the church, possibly the remains of a medieval mausoleum. In summer it's full of swallows' nests**. 

As you head towards the loch you find on your right the terraced Castle Hill (see photo below), site of a hunting lodge which dates back to the time of Kenneth MacAlpine, the Scottish King who united the divided kingdom of the Picts and the Scots.  Edward I had a stronghold there.  The castle was taken down and the stones used for other buildings***, but some bits of it remain and can easily be observed if you climb the hill and walk across the flat top, towards the back.   I read somewhere that there is a hanging tree there, but I can't identify it, if indeed it still exists.  About half a mile from the loch and Castle Hill is another knoll marked cheerily on the O.S. map as 'Gallows Knowe', so perhaps there has been confusion with that, although I tend to think it seems unlikely.

There's an overgrown path which leads down from the car park by the church to an odd wooded area with the remains of what seems to be a folly and hints of other man-made constructions.  I believe it was once a formal garden connected to the castle/hunting lodge.  A few years ago there was a thriving colony of red squirrels.  I used to sit quietly under the beeches and watch them.  Once I saw a squirrel sitting in the bole of a holly tree, apparently sharpening its teeth on a piece of bone.  One of these occasions where you wish you had brought your camera.  However, like the swallows in the mausoleum, the squirrels seem to have vanished.  I've often seen roe and fallow deer there too, and occasionally stoats. Buzzards nest in the trees.  And there are usually mallards in a pretty inlet of water.

I wonder if the squirrels have been scared off by some of the rowdier elements, campers who light fires in the trees and dump bags of rubbish in the water.

The loch itself is known for pike, and is popular with fishermen.  It's a mesotrophic loch, and a SSSI.  Birds I've seen regularly on and around the loch include great crested grebes, goldeneye, wild swans, coots, and ospreys, as well as buzzards and the usual small birds such as finches, robins, wrens and tits.   In summer you usually surprise a pheasant or two, and there are lots and lots of damsel flies. Cormorants roost spookily on the trees around the already fairly spooky Clunie Castle, on the island, and remind one a bit of Noggin the Nog.  The best place to watch birds is from the top of Castle Hill - a wonderful place to spend a summer's afternoon, with a great chance of spotting ospreys, so long as you have the place to yourself.  All too often there are campers and fishermen, many of whom leave the place in a disgraceful state with fires, broken bottles, cans and lots of other revolting human detritus****.  On one occasion I saw a plane land on the loch, and take off again.

It's also worth wandering round the loch side to the remains of an old boathouse.  The island (which is actually a crannog) with its amazing ruined castle (or tower house) can only be reached by boat.  There are no boats on the loch now that I know of,  except those brought by fishermen and campers.   Sadly the castle, which was the former home of a medieval (pre-Reformation) bishop of Dunkeld, burnt down in fairly recent years, and only a shell remains. Apparently there was a chapel on the island at one time, St Catherine's, and human bones were found there, so I presume there is also an old graveyard.  James Crichton, 16th century polymath and the inspiration for J.M. Barrie's 1902 play the Admirable Crichton spent his childhood there.

I visit Loch Clunie often and never fail to be aware of its many ghosts, even on the sunniest days.  In winter, I think it is possibly one of the gloomiest places imaginable.

Castle Hill - site of Kenneth MacAlpine's hunting lodge, and a castle used by Edward 1st

Inscription at Clunie church gate

The island (or crannog) seen from the road - gable of ruined castle just visible

A very rainy Loch Clunie - the wooded island or crannog on right of photo

A walk along the road by the loch

UPDATES JANUARY 2018

* the ivy has been cut down recently

** I haven't seen any swallows' nests in use there for two years at least

*** I now gather the stones were used to build the tower house on the island/crannog in the 1400s.

**** visitors/campers have increased dramatically during the last two summers and the resulting increase in mess and damage (to trees especially)  is at times distressing to see.  Fires are lit, broken bottles and all kinds of rubbish left. Paddleboarders and kayakers now access every corner of the loch leaving wildlife no refuge from human activity.  The loch has traditionally been a popular spot for visitors, it's easily accessible and attractive for camping, so clearly this will continue to be an issue.