seaboardgàidhlig

Cnoc Fhaoighris

Sgrìobh mi mu Bheinn Uais mìos no dhà air ais, agus a-nis ‘s ann aig Cnoc Fhaoighris a tha an turas: an cnoc ainmeil, 1478 tròigh a dh’àirde, leis a’ charragh-cuimhne air a mhullach, a tha ri fhaicinn air cùl Bhaile Eòghainn agus Alanais. Bha an darna latha den Fhaoilleach uabhasach brèagha am bliadhna agus choisich mi dhan mhullach còmhla ri chàirdean. Cha robh sinn idir nar n-aonar –  a rèir choltais bha an darna leth muinntir Rois an Ear den bheachd gun do dh’ith ‘s do dh’òl iad fada cus rè na seachdain a dh’fhalbh, agus bha iad a’ dèanamh feum dhen t-sìde bhrèagha gus beagan àile ghlain agus eacarsaich fhaighinn. No a’ toirt gu buil aon de na rùintean na Bliadhn’ Ùir aca, ‘s dòcha?

Tha fios aig a’ mhòrchuid againn air cnàmhan lom sgeul a’ charraigh-chuimhne – an Rìdire Eachann Rothach à Taigh an Fhuamhair agus an “cothrom-obrach” tuigseach aige san 18mh linn –  ach ma bhios sinn a’ dèanamh beagan rannsachaidh, tha cùl-fiosrachaidh mòran nas inntinniche ann, ceangailte rin Rìdire fhèin agus ri tachartasan cudromach ann an eachdraidh na linn sin.

Rugadh Eachann Rothach mu 1725, agus mar dhuine òg à mion-mheur nan Rothach bha e na shaighdear cumanta air taobh nan Hanobharach an aghaidh nan Seumasach. Aon oidhche, le tuiteamas, shàbhail e a’ Bhan-diùc Ghòrdain nuair a bha an gille-greasaidh aice fo mhisg; a rèir choltais chuidich i e comisean rèisimeideach fhaighinn mar thaing, agus mar sin thòisich an dreuchd fhada ainmeil aige san arm, a’ mhòrchuid dhith sna h-Innseachan, gus leas malairt na h-Ìmpireachd (agus an East India Company) a dhìon an aghaidh nam Frangach.

Mar cheannard a’ Bhengal Presidency Army chuidich e ceannairc nan sepoys (saighdearan Innseanach) a chur sios ann an 1764, agus sin gu spraiceil: ” No believer in taking a soft line Munro decided that the only way to deal with the sepoys, whether their grievances were justified or not, was to execute the ringleaders in typical EIC fashion – by tying them to the wheels of a cannon and blowing them apart. He also disbanded the most rebellious native regiment.” http://scottishmilitary.blogspot.co.at/2011/08/sir-hector-munro-whos-who-in-scottish.html

Ann an 1765 bhuannaich e a’ bhuaidh a bu mhòtha aige aig Buxar, anns a bhith a’ cur cath-innleachd air leth an gnìomh, le ach 7,000 daoine an aghaidh 40,000 saighdearan Mughal. Leis an airgead-duais leig e dheth an comisean aige agus thill e na ghaisgeach a Bhreatainn, far an do cheannaich e roinn-taghaidh ‘Inverness Burghs’ ann am Pàrlamaid agus thàinig e a dh’fhuireach aig Taigh an Fhuamhair, a fhuair e mar dhìleab bho uncail.

Bho shin a-mach thug e ùine gu “leasachaidhean” air an oighreachd, mar a bha am fasan aig an àm. Bha am fearann an sin neo-thorrach, gun chraobhan, agus gun mòran chothroman-obrach do mhuinntir na sgìre, agus anns an ath dheichead dh’atharraich Eachann cruth nan taighean agus an fhearainn gu tur, le leasachaidhean-talmhainn agus planntachadh chraobhan (nam measg na ciad learagan san sgìre), agus cuideachd thog e iomadh carragh, teampall agus geata ann an stoidhle “Innseanach” air feadh an oighreachd – rud a chuir iongnadh mòr air na nabaidhean na bu stuaime aige.

Mar a bhiodh dùil thàinig an latha nuair a theirig an t-airgead, agus ann an 1777 thill e chun nan Innseachan mar cheannard an airm ann am Madras. An turas seo cha robh a h-uile rud a cheart cho glòrmhor – shoirbhich leis ann am Pondichéry agus Negapatnam, ach thug e mì-bhreith air neart arm mòr Hyder Ali, ceannard Mysore, agus chaill e an cath cudromach aig  Conjeeveram. B’ e sin adhbhar nàire dha, agus rinn e cron air a’ chliù aige.

Thill e a-rithist a dh’Alba ann an 1782, an turas seo le rud beag nas lugha de dh’airgead-duais, agus thòisich e – mar iomadh uachdaran Gàidhealach eile – caoraich a thoirt a-steach dhan oighreachd, rud a dh’adhbharaich mì-thoileachas am measg an luchd-gabhail a chaill am fearann agus a’ bheòshlaint aca – fuadaichean ionadail, mar gum biodh. Fhuair an seanailear (a chuir sios na sepoys cho cruaidh deich bliadhna fichead roimhe) an t-arm agus chuir e sios an t-ar-a-mach beag seo cuideachd, ann an 1792. Ach bha e mothachail, gu follaiseach, gum bu chòir dha rudeigin a dhèanamh airson muinntir na sgìre a bha nan èiginn, ged – tha fhios – a bhiodh aca ri obair airson an airgid. Chunnaic e cothrom sin a chur air dòigh agus aig an aon àm an cùrsa-dreachd glòrmhor aige sna h-Innseachan a chomharrachadh mar bu chòir. Bha clachan-chuimhne gu leòr aige sgapte air feadh a’ chòmhnaird mar-thà; rachadh an tè seo a thogail air a’ mhullach a b’ àirde den oighreachd – air Cnoc Fhaoighris.

Chan eil fhios againn an robh an luchd-obrach taingeal no nach robh, agus chan eil fhios againn nas motha a bheil an sgeul ainmeil fìor dha-rìribh gun do roilig sioft na-h-oidhche na clachan sios an cnoc a thog sioft an latha suas, gus barrachd obrach a chruthachadh; tha mi ‘n dòchas nach eil. Abair dìmeas air saothair daonna! Ach tha fios againn gun robh an carragh-cuimhne air a pheantadh geal bho thùs, agus gu bheil dà charragh-cuimhne nas lugha eile faisg air làimh, air Cnoc Ruadh agus Meann Chnoc, falaichte am measg nan craobhan an-diugh. Bha plana ann an toiseach an trì a cheangal ri chèile le balla, ach cha do thachair sin – ‘s dòcha gun do theirig an t-airgead a-rithist. Thathar ag ràdh cuideachd gur e lethbhreac geataichean baile Negapatnam a th’ ann, ach chan eil fìor fhianais de seo ann; tha e nas coltaiche nach e ach togalach eile ann an stoidhle fharsaing “Innseanach” a bh’ ann, mar a bha na clachan-cuimhne eile air an oighreachd.

Ge brith dè an fhirinn, mhair an carragh-cuimhne faicsinneach tarraingeach, agus thug iomadh duine ainmeil air tadhail sa Ghàidhealtachd iomradh air, m.e. am bàrd Robert Southey agus am peantair W M Turner (rinn esan sgeidse dheth). Agus dè thachair ri Eachann Rothach fhèin? Bha dithis mhac aige a chaochail roimhe, sna h-Innseachan – chaidh aon dhiubh a mharbhadh le tìgear, am fear eile le siorc. Chaochail Eachann aig Taigh an Fhuamhair ann an 1805, a rèir choltais ag ionndrainn na h-Innseachan fhathast; chaidh an oighreachd dhan nighean aige, a phòs Ronald Ferguson à Raith, agus dh’atharraich ainm an teaghlaich gu Munro Ferguson, an aon teaghlach aig a bheil an oighreachd an-diugh. Agus an t-ainm ‘Fyrish’ fhèin? A rèir eòlaiche ainmean-àite Rois is Chrombaidh, W J Watson, ‘s e ainm Lochlannach no Cruithneach a th’ ann, chan e Gàidhlig no Albais.

An ath thuras nuair a bhios sibh a’ dràibheadh seachad air Faoighris, no a’ coiseachd suas an cnoc gus na seallaidhean brèagha a mhealadh, faodaidh sibh a bhith a’ smaointinn air na ceanglaichean eadar ar pìos beag Rois an Ear agus saoghal glòrmhor ach an-iochdmhor na h-Ìmpireachd Breatannaich sna h-Innseachan, agus cuideachd air na fuadaichean agus an èiginn a bha air cùl na h-oighreachdan “leasaichte” a tha rim faicinn san latha an diugh.

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Fyrish

I wrote about Ben Wyvis a month or two ago, and now it’s the turn of Fyrish, the famous hill (1478 ft) with the monument on top, seen behind Evanton and Alness. 2nd January was a beautiful day this year and I walked up to the top with relatives. We weren’t alone up there – clearly half of Easter Ross thought they’d eaten and drunk too much over the last week, and were taking advantage of the lovely weather to get some fresh air and exercise. Or maybe they were implementing one of their New Year’s resolutions?

Most of us know the bare bones of the Fyrish story – Sir Hector Munro of Novar and his ‘kind’ work-opportunity scheme in the 18th century – but if we do a bit of research, there’s much more interesting background information, linked to Sir Hector himself and to important events in the history of that century.

Hector Munro was born around 1725, and as a young man from a minor branch of the Munro family he served as a regular soldier for the Hanoverians against the Jacobites. One night, by chance, he was able to rescue the Duchess of Gordon from a coach driven by a drunk postillion, and as thanks, she apparently helped him to his first regimental commission. So began his long and illustrious career in the army, much of it spent in India protecting the trade interests of the British Empire (and the East Indian Company).

As commander of the Bengal Presidency Army he helped put down a mutiny by sepoys (Indian soldiers) in 1764, in the brutal fashion of the day: ” No believer in taking a soft line Munro decided that the only way to deal with the sepoys, whether their grievances were justified or not, was to execute the ringleaders in typical EIC fashion – by tying them to the wheels of a cannon and blowing them apart. He also disbanded the most rebellious native regiment.” http://scottishmilitary.blogspot.co.at/2011/08/sir-hector-munro-whos-who-in-scottish.html

In 1765 he won his most famous victory at Buxar, by implementing brilliant military strategy to defeat 40,000 Mughal soldiers with only 7,000 men. With the prize money he resigned his commission and returned as a hero to Britain. He bought himself a parliamentary seat (‘Inverness Burghs’) and came to live on Novar Estate, which he had inherited from his uncle.

From then on he devoted himself to “improvements” on the estate, as was then the fashion. The land was infertile and treeless, with little work for the locals, and in the next decade or so Munro transformed the houses and the land, improving the soil, planting trees (including the first larches in the area) and also erecting numerous monuments, temples and gates in “Indian” style all over the estate – to the amazement of his more staid neighbours.

Predictably, the money finally ran out, and Munro returned to India in 1777 as commander of the Madras army. This time things didn’t turn out quite as gloriously. He was succesful at Pondichéry and Nagapatnam, but he misjudged the strength of the great army of Hyder Ali, commander of Mysore, and lost the vital battle of Conjeeveram. This was a source of shame to him, and harmed his reputation.

He returned to Scotland in 1782, with slightly less prize money, and began – like many another Highland laird – to introduce sheep to the estate, which caused discontent among the tenants who lost their land and their livelihood – local clearances, as it were. The general (who had quashed the sepoys so harshly 30 years earlier) had no compunction about getting in the army to quell this little rebellion too. But he realised, it seems, that he had to do something for the local people in their distress, although – of course – they would have to work for their money. He saw an opportunity to combine this with commemorating his glorious military career in India in an appropriate way. He already had monuments scattered all over the lower ground, but this one would be built on the highest point of the estate – on Fyrish.

We don’t know whether the workforce was grateful or not, and we don’t know either if the famous story is really true – that the night-shift rolled the stones down the hill that the day-shift had carried up it, to create more work; I hope not. What disrespect for human labour! But we do know that the monument was painted white at first, and that there are two smaller monuments nearby, on Cnoc Ruadh and Meann Chnoc. Originally they were all meant to be connected by a wall, but this never happened – maybe the money ran out again. The monument is also said to be a copy of the city gates of Nagapatnam, but there is no evidence of this. It’s more likely that it’s a generic “Indian”-style erection, like the others on the estate.

Whatever the truth, the monument remained conspicuous and fascinating, and many famous visitors to the Highlands commented on it, such as the poet Robert Southey and the painter WM Turner (who sketched it). And what happened to Sir Hector himself? He had two sons who died before him in India – one was killed by a tiger, the other by a shark. Hector himself died in Novar in 1805, apparently still missing India. The estate passed to his daughter who married a Ronald Ferguson of Raith, and the family name was changed to Munro Ferguson – the same family who have the estate today. And the name “Fyrish” itself? According to the expert on Ross-shire placenames, WJ Watson, it’s a Norse or Pictish name in origin, not a Gaelic or Scots one.

So the next time you drive past Fyrish, or climb it to enjoy the beautiful views, remember the links between our wee corner of Easter Ross and the glorious but cruel world of the British Empire in India, and also remember the the clearances and the hardship that were behind every “improved” estate we can see today.

Dealbh Eachainn /Sir Hector Munro portrait: Creative Commons http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Sir_Hector_Munro_by_David_Martin.jpg

‘S e baile eachdraidheil brèagha a th’ ann an Riga, prìomh-bhaile Latbhia, fàilteach is goireasach do luchd-turais. Tha iomadachd iongantach ailtireachd aige, bho thogalaichean breige Hanseatigeach gu taighean Art Nouveau mìorbhailteach sgeadaichte, gach stoidhle mar fhianais air an eachdraidh chaochlaideach – eaconamach is poiliteagach – aig Riga agus Latbhia thairis air na linntean. Bha fiù ‘s àrd-bhàillidh le tùsan Albannach aca mu 1900.

Bha mi ann fad 3 làithean anns an Dàmhair còmhla ri buidheann bheag. Dh’fhuirich sinn san “taigh-òsta” Konventa Seta, seòrsa baile bhig e fhèin ann an cridhe an t-Seann Bhaile. ‘S e clochar a bh’ ann sna Meadhan Aoisean, far an robh mnathan-cràbhaidh agus banntraichean, na “Grey Sisters”, a’ fuireach. Faodaidh mi a mholadh mar àite-fuirich. Tha e fìor thlachdmhor a bhith a’ coiseachd tro Riga. Tha cha mhòr an Seann Bhaile gu lèir na àrainn-choisichean, agus tha mòran phàircean ann, beaga is mòra. Tha e furasda gach àite inntinneach an sin a ruigsinn air chois – a dh‘aindeoin nan clachan-sràide eachdraidheil, àlainn ach neo-chunbhalach.

Tha cafaidhean agus taighean-bìdh gu leòr ann, gach fear le caractar eadar-dhealaichte agus le prìsean gu math reusanta. Nam measg tha ‘Black Magic‘, àite eadar cafaidh agus poitigeir meadhan-aoiseach, ainmeil airson ‘Riga Black Balsam’, seòrsa dighe dìomhair a tha na leigheas do gach tinneas. A rèir coltais tha blas gu math ìocshlainteach aige, ach cha do dh’fheuch sinn e!

Tha pailteas eaglaisean aig Riga, gu h-àiridh an fheadhainn mheadhan-aoiseach. Chòrd a’ chathair-eaglais leis na clabhsairean bòidheach gu mòr rinn, agus Naomh Peadar le tùr ealanta le trì làir agus lobht-amhairc. Tha eaglaisean ann à gach linn agus de gach seòrsa, bho Lutharach gu Ortadogsach, agus tha mòran dhiubh air an ath-bheothachadh às dèidh do Latbhia a neo-eisimealachd fhaighinn bho na Sovietaich ann an 1991. Bha sinn ann an tòrr dhiubh – agus bha sinn fortanach ceòl a chluinntinn anns a’ mhòrchuid dhiubh.

Tha na Latbhianaich glè dhèidheil air ceòl is seinn, agus fìor mhoiteil gun do shoirbhich leotha an cultar agus an cànan aca a ghleidhadh fad mòran àmannan tàinisteis chèin. Chuala sinn ceòl tradiseanta Latbhiach aig cuirm ri taobh an Ìmhaigh na Saoirse aca – chuir e nar cuimhne seinn Ghàidhlig, gu h-àiridh leis na seàlaichean breacanach a bha air cuid de na seinneadairean, agus fiù ‘s pìobaire an làthair.

Aon mhadainn chaidh sinn dhan Mhargadh Mheadhain ana-mhòr, le bùithtean feòla, èisg, càise amssa ann an ochd hangaran àibheiseach, agus air an taobh a-muigh bùithtean gun àireamh de gach seòrsa – flùraichean, measan, aodach, bathar cruaidh is eileagtronaigeach, basgaidean, buill-mhaise is eile. Tha iomadh margadh-ceàirde beag air feadh a’ bhaile cuideachd, le obair-fhighe, obair-ghrèise agus sliopairean peileig annasach air cruth luchan is ainmhidhean eile.

An latha mu dheireadh againn chaidh sinn air an trèana a Jurmalla, baile spatha air a chosta faisg air Riga, àite tlachdmhor ann an stoidhle eadar Art Nouveau agus ‘dacha’ Ruiseanach, ach le sealladh rud beag fàs, muladach aige às dèidh ràithe shamhraidh. Choisich sinn air a’ phriomh-shràid fhada leis na bùithtean beaga (mòran le adan is aodach spadeil airson mhnathan-uasal aosta) agus cafaidhean seasgair, agus cuideachd air an tràigh ghainmheil fharsaing fhada air cùl sreath chraobhan giuthais. Am measg nan craobhan chunnaic sinn villas fiodha ealanta, agus taighean-samhraidh nas lugha le gàrraidhean beaga – a mhòrchuid fàs san Dàmhair. Tha blas sònraichte, taitneach air an àite – chòrd e rinn. Chòrd a’ chuairt-trèana rinn cuideachd agus nuair a thill sinn air ais thairis air an drochaid gu Riga, fhuair sinn sealladh mu dheireadh air fàire an t-Seann Bhaile, làn tùr uasal.

Barrachd fiosrachaidh an seo: http://www.inyourpocket.com/latvia/riga

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Riga, the capital of Latvia, is a beautiful historic city, welcoming and accessible for tourists. It has an amazing variety of architecture, from Hanseatic brick to fantastically decorated Art Nouveau, each different style a witness to the changing economic and political fortunes of Riga – and Latvia – over the centuries. They even had a mayor of Scottish extraction around 1900.

I was there for 3 days in October, with a small group. We stayed in the ‘hotel’ Konventa Seta, a kind of village in its own right in the heart of the Old Town. It was a convent in the Middle Ages, where nuns and widows lived – the ‘Grey Sisters’. I can recommend it as a place to stay. It’s really delightful just to walk around Riga. Almost the whole of the Old Town is a pedestrian zone, and there are lots of green spaces, small and large. It’s very easy to get everywhere interesting on foot – despite the picturesque but uneven historic cobblestones.

There are plenty of cafés and restaurants there, each one with its own different character, and reasonably priced too. Among them is ‘Black Magic’, something between a café and a mediaeval apothecary, and famous for ‘Riga Black Balsam’, a kind of cure-all secret potion. Apparently it tastes quite medicinal – we didn’t try it!

There’s a wealth of churches in Riga, especially mediaeval ones. We particularly liked the cathedral with its beautiful cloisters, and St Peter’s with its elegant three-tiered tower with viewing platform. There are churches of every epoch and every kind there, from Lutheran to Orthodox, and many of them have been experiencing a revival since Latvia became independent from the Soviets in 1991. We were in a good many of them, and were lucky enough to hear some kind of music in most of these.

The Latvians are very fond of music and singing, and extremely proud that they have managed to keep their culture and their language alive throughout the many periods of foreign occupation they have suffered. We heard traditional Latvian music at a festival around the foot of their ‘Statue of Liberty’ one night – it reminded us of Gaelic singing, especially given the tartan shawls some of the singers were wearing, and the presence of a bagpiper.

One morning we went to the huge Central Market, with shops selling meat, fish, cheese etc inside eight vast hangars, and countless stalls of every kind outside, selling flowers, fruit, clothes, ironmongery, electronics, baskets, ornaments etc. There are also many small craft markets scattered around the city, with knitwear, needlework, embroidery and curious felt slippers in the form of mice and other creatures.

On our last day we went on the train to Jurmalla, a spa resort on the coast near Riga, an attractive place built in a style somewhere between Art Nouveau and Russian ‘dacha’, but rather deserted and melancholy out-of-season. We walked the length of its long main street lined with little shops (many selling hats and posh outfits for elderly ladies) and cosy cafés, and also along its long wide sandy beach behind a fringe of pine woods. Among the trees we could see elegant wooden villas and smaller summer-houses with little gardens – most of them deserted in October. There’s a very individual, charming atmosphere to the place – we really liked it. We also enjoyed the train-ride, and as we returned over the bridge to Riga, we had a last view of the Old Town skyline, bristling with proud towers.

More information here: http://www.inyourpocket.com/latvia/riga 

 

 

 

Seanfhaclan 4: Fàilte! Aoigheachd, biadh agus deoch.

Mar a tha fios againn, tha dualchas aoigheachd fada is làidir againn air a’ Ghàidhealtachd –  bhiodh riamh fàilte is biadh a’ feitheamh air luchd-tadhail sam bith a thàinig chun an dorais, ged nach biodh mòran agaibh fhèin san taigh, no ged nach biodh sibh ro mheasail orrasan no air a’ chinneadh aca. Agus nuair a bha subhachas sam bith ann, mar bhanais no baisteadh, cha robh caomhnadh air cosgais. Ach aig an aon àm b’ fheudar dhan fhear-an-taighe an aire a thoirt dha na taobhan practaigeach – m.e. biadh, deoch, luchd-chiùil a chur air dòigh agus a phàigheadh – agus mhothaicheadh e cuideachd nuair a bha neach-tadhail a’ mì-ghnàthachadh fhialaidheachd. Mar a shaoileadh sibh, cha bhiodh an fhàilte ceart cho blàth air gach fear, ged b’ fheudar fàilte a bhith ann. Chì sinn a h-uile rud anns na seanfhaclan a leanas – agus iad uile ceart cho fìor an-diugh ’s a bha iad riamh. .

Gaelic proverbs 4: Welcome! Hospitality, food and drink

As we know, we have a long, strong tradition of hospitality in the Highlands – there would always be a welcome and food waiting for any visitor who came to the door, even if you didn’t have much in the house for yourselves, or if you weren’t particularly fond of them or their clan. And when there was any kind of celebration, like a wedding or christening, no expense was spared. But at the same time the hosts had to pay attention to the practical aspects – e.g. to organise and pay for food, drink and musicians – and they would notice when a guest was abusing their generosity. It’s only to be expected that not everyone got an equally warm welcome , though a welcome there had to be. We see all of this in the proverbs which follow – all as true to today as they ever were.

 

1. Furain an t-aoigh a thig, greas an t-aoigh tha falbh.

Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.

2. Am fear a thig gun chuireadh, suidhidh e gun iarraidh.

He who comes uninvited will sit down unasked.

3. Ge milis a’ mhil, cò dh’imlicheadh o bhàrr dri i?

Honey may be sweet, but who would lick it off a briar?

4. Bidh an t-ubhal as fheàrr air a’mheangan as àirde.

The best apple is on the highest bough

5. ’S fheàrr iasg beag na bhith gun iasg idir.

A little fish is better than no fish at all.

6. Gluais faicilleach le cupan làn.

Move carefully with a full cup.

7. Cha deoch-slàint, i gun a tràghadh.

It’s no health if the glass is not emptied.

8. Ge milis am fìon, tha e searbh ri dhìol.

The wine is sweet, the paying bitter.

9. Cha dèan ‘Tapadh leis an fhìdhlear’ am fìdhlear a phàigheadh.

A ‘thank you’ doesn’t pay the fiddler.

10. Am fear a bhios a’ riarachadh na maraig, bidh an ceann reamhar aige fhèin.

The man that divides the pudding will have the thick end to himself.

11. Bidh mìr a’ ghill’ èasgaidh air gach mèis.

The smart fellow’s share is on every dish.

12. Chan fhiach cuirm gun a còmhradh.

A feast is no good without conversation

13. S fheàrr am bonnach beag le beannachd na am bonnach mòr le mallachd.

Better the small scone with blessing than the large scone with cursing.

14. Beathaich thusa mis’ an-diugh, is beathaichidh mis’ thus’ am màireach.

You feed me today, and I’ll feed you tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beinn Uais

 A’ bruidhinn mun Bheinn…. 

Tha sinn uile eòlach air “a’ Bheinn”, comharra-stiùiridh agus samhla Rois an Ear, agus cuspair-còmhraidh maireannach fad deich mhìosan na bliadhna co-dhiù: “Chan eil sneachd air a Bheinn fhathast, ach… / Aidh, cha bhi fada gus am bi an sneachd air ais air a’ Bheinn / Seall, tha sneachd air a’ Bheinn mar-thà /  Tha an sneachd air a’ Bheinn gu math tràth (anmoch) am bliadhna…” (amsaa gun chrìch). Tha druim Bheinn Uais na sheasamh àrd is fada os cionn Linne Chrombaid, ri fhaicinn bho Linne Mhoireibh agus bho fhada a-staigh san tìr, uile-làthaireach is druidhteach.

Ach dè cho eòlach ‘s a tha sinn air ‘ar’ Beinn ann an dà-rìribh? Tha cuid ann an Ros an Ear a tha air a dìreadh, le cinnt, ach tha amharas agam gu bheil cuid fada nas motha ann nach robh riamh air a mullach, mar mi fhìn. Bidh mi a’ togail dealbhan dhi uair is uair, fad bhliadhnaichean, gun eòlas mionaideach a bhith agam mu a deidhinn. Tha i ann, gu simplidh, na cùl-raon dhan “Linne” agus do ar pìos beag den dùthaich. Chuir mi romham barrachd fiosrachaidh fhaighinn a-mach.

‘S e Tèarmann Nàdar Nàiseanta a th’ anns a’ Bheinn, a fhuair an cruth àraidh a tha aice an-diugh aig deireadh Linn na Deighe o chionn mu 10,000 bliadhna, as dèidh iomadh gluasad chreagan is talmhainn tro reothadh is aiteadh na deighe, agus fo bhuaidh nan eigh-shruthan, a  thog ulbhagan bho àiteachean eile air a’ Ghàidhealtachd agus dh’fhàg iad sgapte air a’ Bheinn nan “iomraill”.  Air an adhbhar sin tha àrainneachd nàdarra na beinne gu math caochlaideach. Air na mullachan chithar raon còinnich cloimhiche as fharsaing san RA, agus anns na coireachan tha lùsan artaigeach is ailpeach. Ma bhios tu fòrtanach chì thu tàrmachan, no na h-amadain-mhòintich, a thogas an nid air talamh an dròma. Nas ìsle air na leathadan chithar beith-bheag sna boglaichean, critheann agus caorann, agus iomadh seòrsa dhearcan. (Barrachd fiosrachaidh an seo: http://www.snh.org.uk/pdfs/publications/designatedareas/BenWyvis.pdf )

Tha an luchd-coiseachd glè dheidheil air Beinn Uais cuideachd. ‘S e sreath mhullach a tha innte agus Glas Leathad Mòr am fear as àirde dhiubh (1046m), le seallaidhean farsaing àlainn, agus (a rèir Walkhighlands http://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/lochness/Benwyvis.shtml) ‘s e aon de na Rothachan as fhasa th’ innte – ann an sìde bhrèagha. Ach chan urrainn do dhaoine a bhith cinnteach idir gum bi an t-sìde brèagha air a’ mhullach ged ‘s a bha i aig toiseach na cuairt, mar a fhuair aon choisiche a-mach anns an Dùbhlachd (“A Scary Ben Wyvis”): “…wind must be 70-80 mph on our backs. Can’t walk,wind taking us off our feet and we slide along. Now the snow starts… visibility must be 3-4m in heavy blizzard. Everythings white, no horizon.. compass frozen over cant see it, water frozen cant drink it, slipped on ice, lost eye contact with party…” http://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=9&t=3380

Mar a chithar, ma-thà, faodaidh a’ Bheinn a bhith fìor araidh air ainm ‘Uais’. Chan fhaodar ràdh le cinnt co às a tha an t-ainm sin, ach tha e coltach gu bheil e ceangailte ri ‘uabhas’ air neo ‘fuathas’, an dà chuid le blas gruamach agus drùidhteach. Faodaidh beagan sneachda a bhith air fhàgail anns na coireachan fad na bliadhna, agus tha tradisean ann gum b’ fheudar do Thriath nan Rothach Foulis ballsneachda bho mhullach na Beinne a thoirt dhan rìgh gach Fèill Eòin (meadhan an t-Samraidh) gus am faigheadh e am fearann aige air a’ Bheinn a chumail. Mar a thuirt Thomas Pennant (Tour of Scotland) ann an 1769: ” .. he seems to be in no danger of forfeiting his right by failure of the quit-rent, for snow lies in the form of a glaciere in the chasms of Benwewish, a neighbouring mountain, throughout the year.” http://www.appleby.org.uk/ben_wyvis_history.htm

Ach leugh mi sgeul na b’ ùire mun Bheinn, a tha a’ dèiligeadh ris an ‘uabhas’ aice, agus ‘s e sin uabhas nach eil idir cho nàdarra ris an eagal a bha air an neach-coiseachd a dh’ainmhich mi gu h-àrd – taing do Ross and Cromarty Heritage airson seo:  “One day in August, some years ago, a local mountaineer was coming back down An Cabar when he heard a strange noise some way off. It sounded like one of those plastic containers that cakes come in, being crumpled up. It got louder and louder, and was clearly coming up the hill towards him. It was a nice sunny day, and not even a breeze. He looked about carefully for any sign of wind, or movement of the vegetation, or anything else which might explain what was happening, but there was none. By this time he had got down on one knee in case it was a twister. It continued to approach and eventually passed him about two metres away and disappeared into a nearby rock-face; then all was quiet again. A day or two later, the same man was in Inverness, walking along Ness Walk, when a large lorry pulled up – mostly on the pavement. On the nearside door was the text ‘Ben Wyvis – hill of terror’.” http://www.rossandcromartyheritage.org/communit/p37/ev/oe/p37_ev_oe01.html

Latha air choireigin tha mi fhìn airson coiseachd air mullaich Beinn Uais, gus an stòras nàdarra agus na seallaidhean brèagha fhaicinn, agus gus dearbhadh dhomh fhìn gur urrainn dhomh – ach cha bhi mi a’ dol ann sa gheamhradh agus cha bhi mi nam aonar. Agus anns an eadar-àm leanaidh mi orm a’ togail mo chuid dealbhan…

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Ben Wyvis

We’re all familiar with “The Ben”, landmark and symbol of Easter Ross, and inexhaustible topic of conversation for at least 10 months of the year: “No snow on the Ben yet, but.. / Aye, it won’t be long till the snow’s back on the Ben / Look, there’s snow on the Ben already / The snow’s early (late) on the Ben this year…” and so on, endlessly. Ben Wyvis’s skyline stands high and long above the Cromarty Firth, visible from the Moray Firth and from far inland, omnipresent and impressive.

But how much do we really know about ‘our’ ben? There are certainly a good few in Easter Ross who have climbed it, but I suspect that there are even more, like myself, who’ve never been on the top. I’m forever taking pictures of it, and have been for years, without actually knowing about it in any detail. It’s just there, backdrop to “the Firth” and to our wee bit of the country. I decided to find out a bit more.

The Ben is a National Nature Reserve. It settled into its current shape by the end of the Ice Age, about 10,000 years ago,  after many movements of rock and earth caused by the freezing and thawing of the ice, and through the impact of glaciers, which picked up boulders from other places in the Highlands and left them scattered on the Ben as ‘erratics’. For that reason the natural environment of the Ben is very varied. On the tops you see the largest area of woolly hair-moss in the UK, and in the corries there are arctic and alpine plants. If you are lucky you may see ptarmigans, or the dotterels who nest on the ground of the ridge. Further down the slopes you can see dwarf birches in the blanket bog, aspens and rowans, and many kinds of berries. (More information here:  http://www.snh.org.uk/pdfs/publications/designatedareas/BenWyvis.pdf)

Hillwalkers are also very fond of Ben Wyvis. The Ben is actually a chain of tops, the highest of which is Glas Leathad Mòr (1046 m), with extensive, beautiful views, and (according to Walkhighlands http://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/lochness/Benwyvis.shtml) is one of the easiest Munros – on a fine day.  But there is no guarantee at all that the weather will be fine on the top even if it was when you started out, as one walker discovered (‘A Scary Ben Wyvis’):  “…wind must be 70-80 mph on our backs. Can’t walk,wind taking us off our feet and we slide along. Now the snow starts… visibility must be 3-4m in heavy blizzard. Everythings white, no horizon.. compass frozen over cant see it, water frozen cant drink it, slipped on ice, lost eye contact with party…” http://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=9&t=3380

As we see, then, the Ben can certainly live up to its name, ‘Wyvis’ – an English rendering of the Gaelic ‘Uais’ or ‘Uabhais’.  It can’t be said for certain where the name came from, but it’s probable that it’s connected to the Gaelic word ‘uabhas’ (awe, terror) or ‘fuathas’ (spectre, apparition), both with a distinctly gloomy and impressive flavour. There can be some snow left in the corries all year round, and there’s a tradition that the chief of the Munros of Foulis had to deliver a snowball to the king every Midsummer’s Day if required to, in order to hang onto his land on the Ben. As Thomas Pennant said in his Tour of Scotland in 1769: ” .. he seems to be in no danger of forfeiting his right by failure of the quit-rent, for snow lies in the form of a glaciere in the chasms of Benwewish, a neighbouring mountain, throughout the year.” http://www.appleby.org.uk/ben_wyvis_history.htm 

But I read a more recent story about the Ben, which also deals with the ‘uabhas’ aspect, though this time it’s a less natural terror than the fear felt by our hillwalker mentioned above – thanks to Ross and Cromarty Heritage for this: “One day in August, some years ago, a local mountaineer was coming back down An Cabar when he heard a strange noise some way off. It sounded like one of those plastic containers that cakes come in, being crumpled up. It got louder and louder, and was clearly coming up the hill towards him. It was a nice sunny day, and not even a breeze. He looked about carefully for any sign of wind, or movement of the vegetation, or anything else which might explain what was happening, but there was none. By this time he had got down on one knee in case it was a twister. It continued to approach and eventually passed him about two metres away and disappeared into a nearby rock-face; then all was quiet again. A day or two later, the same man was in Inverness, walking along Ness Walk, when a large lorry pulled up – mostly on the pavement. On the nearside door was the text ‘Ben Wyvis – hill of terror’.” http://www.rossandcromartyheritage.org/communit/p37/ev/oe/p37_ev_oe01.html

One day I’d like to walk along the tops of Ben Wyvis myself, to see the natural heritage and the beautiful views, and to prove to myself that I can do it – but I won’t go in the winter, and I won’t go alone. And meanwhile I’ll just carry on taking my pictures….

Dealbhan san artaigil /Pictures in the article:  2, 3, 6 via Creative Commons Licence – mòran taing / many thanks!

2. Ian Mitchell  http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1369455

3. Ian Stewart http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/2400032

6. Ian Mitchell http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1369446

Tha na dealbhan eile agam fhìn / all the other pictures are my own

 

Tachartasan ionadal sgoinneil aig BLAS anns an t-Sultain!

Brilliant local BLAS festival events in September!

 

 

Reasabaidhean Àisianach Samhraidh

Fhuair mi na reasabaidhean Àisianach blasda seo bho Janni Diez, Oifigear Leasachaidh Cànain aig Sabhal Mòr Ostaig ann an Slèite, Eilean Sgitheanach, a nì clasaichean-còcaireachd Gàidhlig an sin cuideachd. Mìle taing, Janni!

Mairt- fheòil le Sabhs Eisirean

200g de mhairt-fheòil

2 spàin de sabhs soidhe

2 spàin de stuthaig

1 spàin de dh’fhìon geal

1 clòbh de chreamh

1 òirleach de dhinsear

1 Piobar uaine

1 uinnean

2 spàin de dh’ola

2 spàin de sabhs eisirean

Leth cupa de shùgh màirt-fheòla

1 spàin teatha de ola seasamain

1 spàin teatha de shiùcar

3 uinneanan an earraich

Geàrr an fheòil ann an striopan fìor thana agus cuir ann am bobhla e leis an fhìon, 1 spàin de sabhs soidhe agus 1 spàin de stuthaig. Fàg e fad 15-30 mion. Sgudaich an dinnsear agus an creamh gu mìn agus geàrr a’ ghlasraich eile ann am pìosan de 1 òirleach.

Teasaich an t-ola ann am wok gus am bi e teth. Cuir an creamh agus an dinnsear ris, ach na loisg e. Cuir na h-uinneanan agus na pioparan ris agus teasaich iad fad 5 mionaidean, ach cha bu chòir dhaibh fàs donn. Measgaich an còrr den stuthaig, an sabhs-soidhe, an sabhs eisgirean, an sùgh màirt-fheòla, an siùcar agus an ola seasamain ann am bobhla. A-nis cuir an fheòil agus an sabhs ris a’ ghlasraich san wok agus cuir mun cuairt e gu tric fad 4 -5 mionaidean. Aig an deireadh cuir na h-uinneanan an earraich ris. Feuch e, agus ma tha salann no piobar a dhìth, cuir sin ris.

 Glasraich Shearbh is Mhilis

1 uinnean

1 clòbh de chreamh

1 piobar dearg no buidhe

10 balgain-bhuachrach 2 churran

1 broccoli

1 càl colaig

1 crogan de bachlagan bamboo

2 spàin de dh’ola

6 spàinean fìon geur

1 spàin Taois tomàta

1 spàin stuthaig

3 spàinean siùcar

2 spàin sabhs soidhe

2 spàin de dh’uisge

Pacaid de bhachlagan soidhe

2 uinnean an earraich

Geàrr na glasraich ann am pìosan de 1 òirleach, reub am broccoli agus an càl-colaig gu flùraichean beaga agus sgudaich an creamh gu mìn. Teasaich an t-ola ann am wok agus praidhig an creamh fad mionaid aig teas meadhanach. Cuir na currain agus am broccoli ris agus praidhig fad 5 mionaidean, an uair sin cuir a’ ghlasraich eile ris. Ann am bobhla, measgaich an fhìon geur, uisge, siùcar, stuthaig agus sabhs soidhe. Nuair a tha a’ ghlasraich gu bhith deiseil, cuir ris an sabhs, na bachlagan soidhe agus na h-uinneanan an earraich air an gearradh. Teasaich e gus am bi e a’ goil, ach na goil e ro fhada, no cha bhi e geur tuilleadh.

 

Asian Recipes for Summer

I got these tasty Asian recipes from Janni Diez, Language Development Officer at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig College, Sleat, Skye, who also gives cookery classes in Gaelic. Many thanks, Janni!

Stir-fry Beef with Oyster Sauce

200 g tender beef

2 spoons soy sauce

2 spoons starch thickener (cornflour etc)

1 spoon white wine

1 clove garlic

1 inch of ginger

1 green pepper

1 onion

2 spoons oil

2 spoons oyster sauce

half cup beef stock

1 teaspoon sesame oil

1 teaspoon sugar

3 spring onions

Cut the meat into very thin strips and put in a bowl with the wine, 1 spoon soy sauce and one spoon thickener. Leave for 15 -30 minutes.

Finely chop the ginger and the garlic, and cut the other vegetables into one-inch pieces.

Heat the oil in a wok or equivalent until hot. Add the ginger and garlic, but don’t let them burn or catch. Add the onion and green pepper and cook for 5 minutes, without letting them brown.

Mix the rest of the thickener, soy sauce, oyster sauce, stock, sugar and sesame oil in a bowl. Add this and the meat and marinade to the pan, stirring frequently. Cook for a few minutes, then finally add the spring onions. Season to taste if required.

Sweet and Sour Vegetables

1 onion

1 clove of garlic

1 red or yellow pepper

10 mushrooms

2 carrots

1 broccoli

1 cauliflower

1 tin of bamboo shoots

2 spoons oil

6 spoons vinegar

1 spoon tomato paste

1 spoon starch thickener

3 spoons sugar

2 spoons soy sauce

2 spoons water

packet of soya beansprouts

2 spring onions

Cut the vegetables into one-inch pieces, tear the broccoli and cauliflower into small florets, and finely chop the garlic.

Heat the oil in a wok or similar pan, and fry the garlic for a minute on a medium heat. Add the carrots and the broccoli and fry for 5 minutes, then add the rest of the vegetables.

Mix the vinegar, water, sugar, starch and soy sauce in a bowl.

When the vegetables are almost ready, add the vinegar mixture, the beansprouts and the chopped spring onion and bring briefly to the boil. (Don’t boil too long or it won’t be ‘sour’ at all!)