Hogmanay, Burns and Belly Dancing

It’s been a while.

What to share and what not to share? Let’s go all the way back to the New Year. And the prize for the most spectacular event goes to the Torchlit Procession on New Year’s Day. I stood at my railings for 3pm and waited. Over 300 torches were carried along the sea front to the harbour and as hands were shaken through the fence, the cries of Happy New Year were muffled by the stamping of feet on icy ground and the waves behind them hitting the sand.

Then there was the ceilidh at the Heritage Centre some days later. Handed a wine glass of whisky filled to the brim as I walked into the tiny tin room lit with a blazing coal fire, I felt the warmth of real welcome. Singing Bread of Heaven to guitar with my fellow Cardiffian, it was a good and drunken night.

Burns night was a hoot. Dear friends came up for it and neighbours were invited. Haggis were procured, roasted and served up on a silver platter with neeps and tatties, Clynelish whisky and cheesey leeks. We each read verses from The Address and with very little Scottish blood between us, celebrated the country which has taken us in.

Ok. So. Golspie sits tight between the mountains and the sea. It has a climate of its own. This coastal stretch sees less rain and snow than most of Scotland. However, it has snowed and we have had and continue to have some quite severe storms.

As to Belly Dancing, well, that’s every Monday night at my place.