Lovat of the 45’s false choppers. I wonder who first got them – and how – given the cirumstances in which they became redundant.
Sunset. Geese clanking and flapping out of the sky, circling to land on the shore and paddle in the mud of the firth. Taking a break ontheir long journey north for the summer.
Stunning day. You can see for 40 miles. The intoxicating coconut scent of gorse flowers. This is what the highlands do best.
Less than two months to publication day, and life becomes busier in London, arranging a launch party, readings and so on. All that goes on hold next week. We must go home to bury my mother-in-law. Lady Lovat was 94, and there will be a big clan funeral for her in Inverness-shire. One of the finest pipers in Scotland will play Lord Lovat’s Lament. In […]
We have been home to the Highlands recently. Every day we walk around the farm. At some point you face west across the Aird of Lovat. 30 miles behind the Aird, the peaks of Glenstrathfarrar rise on the western horizon, some nearly 4,000 feet high. They loom, mountainous guardians of Lovat’s beloved homeland, and 250 years later, ours. Lovat sought […]
Something my brother-in-law said reminded me of the sense of deja vu I often had when I was writing. ‘A great period of history,’ he said, ‘Gin was cheap, the South Sea bubble financial collapse, and wars in strange places … not too different from today really.’ Hogarth expressed society’s anxiety over the effects of cheap booze in […]