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https://www.elsewhere-journal.com/blog/2020/10/29/hoyggja-harvesting-grass-in-the-faroe-islands   Hoyggja Harvesting grass in the Faroe Islands   July is the time of the hoyggja which refers to the cutting of the in-field (bøur) grass and harvesting it for the sheep’s winter feed. Families are outside; their cheery voices drift in the wind. Children’s laughter sweeps across the...

Published in the Country Squire Magazine Writing in the latter half of the nineteenth century, Oscar Wilde spoke of the ‘Oxford manner’. It was all fine and good to come down with a decent class of degree and take your Blue in water polo, but what...

Published in Country Squire Magazine It was the spring of 2003. Amidst a vortex of gorging humanity, the statue of Saddam Hussein in Baghdad was being ripped off its plinth by excitable vandals. Many western television viewers sympathised with these young men dressed in thawbs who...

The Scent of Angelica   The day begins on the quay at Tvøroyri on the southernmost island of the Faroes. Held by their horns, rams are loaded into the make-shift wooden pen that occupies the stern of a fishing vessel. These dozen or so rams belong to...

I arrive at the station early. This is my first trip on a train with a dog in Russia. The information online regarding the do’s and don’ts of pet travel in Russia had been somewhat conflicting and I am eager to be prepared for every...

A bare-chested man gazes out of the window watching the queue of passengers that wait on the platform to have their travel documents inspected. Content his entourage have made it onto the train, he walks towards me down the extremely narrow corridor that runs alongside...

Listening to the Faroese, published by Little Toller Books   Listening to the Faroese A visit to the church at Sandvík, the Faroe Islands Sunday morning. The houses are sleeping. From a distant window, a spinster can be seen sidling into her sitting room with spools of wool. Time...

Article published in Country Squire Magazine: No country for straight white men The weather was disagreeable: damp, diffident and almost apologetic. It was not surprising. It was a Tuesday. The morning toast sat there silently, waiting to be marmaladed, and for a moment the world seemed...