Scotland 2012 — Moffat
I spent most of the spring in Scotland. It’s one of my favourite parts of Britain, different enough to be like going abroad but without needing to communicate in a foreign language (on the mainland, anyway). The scenery is often lovely, the people are usually friendly and, outside the big cities, road traffic is mostly light.
This is my third visit north of the border since I started my travels. I began this time with a week at Moffat, in Dumfries and Galloway. A sign outside the town proclaims it the first town in Scotland. That must depend on where you cross the border with England. It’s nearly 100 miles long.
As is usual these days, I explored what was in easy walking distance of the site. I’m carrying so much in the van that it takes me at least 45 minutes to get ready for the road and the same time to ‘pitch’ again.
That’s too much of a fag on a short stay, so instead I wander around the local area each time. One of the pleasures of Britain is that you can usually find plenty to look at and learn about just by doing that.
Moffat
The approach to this Camping and Caravanning Club site was discouraging. You reach it from a badly-potholed service road round the back of some flats and over a small bridge. “What have I let myself in for?”, I wondered.
Fortunately, the site itself turned out to be clean, quiet, open and relaxing. It sits on former river meadows, with large fields around it and a new school building (Moffat Academy) a short way to the east.
Back over the bridge, there are some anonymous-looking premises with a temporary sign on the doors that says, “Uncle Roy’s Comestible Concoctions”. There seemed to be no shop front, so I looked up the name on the Internet. Uncle Roy, it turns out, is a successful maker of fancy condiments. I shall keep an eye open next time I’m in a Waitrose.
Turning left and walking a hundred yards brings you to a new Co-op — handy for emergency shopping — and a tourist trap called Moffat Woollen Mill. This has seen no milling for years but is ideally placed if you’re running out of shortbread or tartan trinkets. Coach parties stop there most days.
Across the car park and turn right and you find yourself at the Black Bull Inn, where Robert Burns regularly sank a few. (There are as many of these spots in Scotland as there are houses in England where Queen Elizabeth slept.)
Opposite is the huge ruddy bulk of St Andrew’s Parish Church, which dominates the town. Built of local red sandstone in 1887, it’s the third church on the site. Its architect was John Starforth.
St Andrew’s Parish Church at dusk
A few yards further on and you’re in the centre of the place. It’s a former spa town, not big but full of grand-looking hotels. You won’t run short of places to eat or drink. Parts of Moffat looked run-down but the locals were cheerful and friendly.
There are plenty of small shops, including the noted Moffat Toffee Shop. Among its other delicacies, this sells:
Soor Plooms, Sports Mixture, Midget Gems, Hawick Balls, Edinburgh Rock, Uncle Joe’s Mint Balls and Berwick Cockles.
More of a time machine, really. Oor Wullie would approve.
The town square was being repaved when I was there, so should look tidy by now. Just down from it is the Colvin Ram, a famous statue recently refurbished. It’s a reminder of Moffat’s former links with the wool trade.
Moffat’s lugless tup
Behind the Co-op is Station Park (built on the former railway station, as you might guess), with duck ponds and a memorial devoted to Hugh Dowding. He was a local boy who went on to become head of Britain’s fighter operations during World War II.
Dowding memorial, Station Park, Moffat
Going through the park takes you on a quiet and shady walk along Annan Water, the local river. Scotland was the warmest place in Britain while I was at Moffat, so this was a favourite walk with me.
From the river, you can see the extensive and well-tended gardens of Moffat CAN, an enterprising ‘green’ charity based in an old church.
Moffat CAN, from Annan Water
Back into the centre, next to the petrol station, is a handsome building in reddish stone. This was formerly the local offices of the British Linen Bank.
Linen weaving was a major industry in Scotland in the 18th and 19th centuries. A few weeks after leaving Moffat, I stayed at Forfar, which had been a centre for this. More about that and other places later.
As is so often the case, the more I investigated Moffat, the more there was to find out. Once you get beyond the superficial, touristy parts, there’s some history and depth to the place. I liked it.
Afternoon collection, Moffat Post Office
A triple dose of Hetherington
J&W Donaldson
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A reminder: I’m still posting photos on Flickr. Not all of them appear here and not all I show here go to Flickr.
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Follow-up to Roskilde postings
When I wrote about the Viking Ship Museum (see here), I mentioned Aage Skjelborg. He was one of the divers who went down to the Skuldelev ships in 1956 and began the salvage work.
Aage has since made a couple of friendly comments to this blog and we have begun corresponding by email. He revealed that as well as being a diver and researcher, he is a published author. Aage sent me a couple of short stories in English about the ships and about the cathedral.
With his permission, I am reproducing the second story — A Writer’s Block and a Return of a Queen. It’s in a new section called Screeds, that I’m reserving for pieces of writing too long to fit in the main flow of Rambles.
The copyright in A Writer’s Block… of course remains with Aage Skjelborg. Should you wish to reproduce it or use it elsewhere, you should contact him. You may do so through me – just put a comment on here, with your contact details, and I’ll forward it. (Only Aage and I will see what you say, because I won’t publish your comment.)
I was impressed that Aage should write so clearly and so affectingly in what is to him a foreign language. I think you will be, too.
If you read Danish, you can enjoy more of Aage’s writing in his book, Getting our Hands Wet (Vand under neglene). It’s a partly fictionalised account of the recovery of the Skuldelev ships.
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Short stopover at Roskilde, Denmark — July 2010 — Part 2
I dragged myself away from the ship museum (see this entry) and walked towards the centre of Roskilde.
Past a former gasworks, now an art gallery, I went and uphill through a pretty park. Parents sat watching their children play. Self-basting solo sunbathers sprawled submissively, seeking supererogatory swarthiness.
Near the top, much warmer and a bit puffed, I was glad to stop at the unusual sight of a field of barley in the middle of a city. Not just barley, either, but with a brilliant blush of poppies bursting through it, always gladdening for the eye and the spirit.
Field of barley, with poppies. Roskilde
Roskilde Cathedral
At the back I could see the spires and roof of my destination, Roskilde Cathedral. It’s a World Heritage Site.
The official Web site is in Danish only but there’s a good page in English about the cathedral here from the director of its museum.
This is a huge building. Like most cathedrals, it was designed to dominate and impress. It still does so eight centuries later. Built in the Early Gothic style, the church is unusual in being in brick. Here’s Wikipedia on the cathedral and on the use of brick.
Other, smaller buildings hem the cathedral in, so I couldn’t get an inclusive long shot of it. I didn’t feel hard done by, as the interior is full of intriguing and, mostly, beautiful detail. Here below are some features that caught my eye.
Nave ceiling, Roskilde Cathedral
When I walked in, I was struck by how light it was. Being used to British cathedrals of similar age, which typically have dark wooden ceilings, I hadn’t expected the white paint. This of course bounced the light around to fine effect. The high ceiling helped. It is one of the characteristics of the Gothic style, as is the rib vaulting.
The ornate excrescence in the lower part of the picture is the royal pew, which was installed in 1600. At the top is the organ. This dates from 1554 but was encased in its florid façade in 1654.
There are free organ recitals in the summer, and that evening’s soloist was rehearsing while I was there. He was playing some wistful, meditative material that perfectly suited my mood. It made a relaxing contrast to the bombast often written for organs.
The staff at the desk couldn’t name that tune, so we looked at the programme. Our guess was that it was the scheduled piece by the Dutchman, Jan Sweelinck (“Sway-link”).
I forgot to note the details (and the cathedral has since been disappointingly unwilling to help me find out) but this is similar, if not the same. Now imagine it played in the reverberant acoustic of a large cathedral. Soothing.
South aisle, Roskilde Cathedral
This shot shows several examples of the other main feature of Gothic buildings — the pointed, or ogival, arch. The preceding architectural style, Romanesque, used rounded arches.
Altarpiece, Roskilde Cathedral
The altarpiece is a stunner. It’s a gilded wood triptych, made in Antwerp in 1560, that depicts scenes from the life and death of Jesus.
Ceiling of Christian I’s Chapel, Roskilde Cathedral
As is normal, there are several side chapels in the cathedral, mainly built for and to commemorate Denmark’s monarchs and aristocracy. Roskilde is the official resting place for the country’s kings and queens.
King Christian I founded this chapel in 1462, the superb frescoes being added over the next decades. They were another surprise; I’ve not seen anything so exuberant or so well preserved in a church.
They reminded me of the sort of intricate decoration one sees in Islamic architecture, except that Muslim art would not have included human figures. Those figures include the three ‘wise men from the East’ who legendarily attended the birth of Jesus, giving this sepulchre its alternative name of the Chapel of the Magi.
Once again you can see Gothicism’s pointed arches and ribbed vaults (as opposed to the Norman barrel vaulting).
Chapel wall, Roskilde Cathedral
Here is a view of one of the side walls of the Christian I chapel. I just gawped at these frescoes.
Christian IX’s chapel, Roskilde Cathedral
This is a modern chapel, built in 1924. The design of the tombs in here is restrained compared with that of others elsewhere in the cathedral. The place seems to specialise in over-elaborate monstrosities that are as kitsch as Liberace’s bathroom.
Tomb of Frederik V, Roskilde Cathedral
And here’s one of those monstrosities. This is the monument to King Frederik V, one of 12 sepulchres in a neo-classical chapel completed in 1825. The chapel itself has a restrained and comparatively austere look.
Entrance to Trolle family crypt, Roskilde Cathedral
On a more modest scale is the crypt for the 17th-century Trolle family, complete with punning design of gate.
King Christian IV at Colberger Heide, Roskilde Cathedral
In the chapel for King Christian IV is this large, heroic picture from 1866. It shows the king triumphant at the Battle of Colberger Heide (Colberg Heath) in 1644. During the engagement, Christian was hit by splinters and shrapnel, blinding him in one eye, hence the bandage. To me, he looks like the prototype for Captain Pugwash.
The painting is one of a pair in the chapel and is by the Dane, Wilhelm Marstrand. Both pictures are murals, their apparent frames being trompes l’oeil. Look closely at this one and you can see how well Marstrand has managed the effect. The woman’s head gives an idea of the painting’s size. There’s a better image of it here; I couldn’t counteract the strong sidelighting on mine.
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Those are the highlights (and lowlights) of my visit to this remarkable building. I found it full of artistic, architectural, musical and historical interest and will go back if I’m in the area again. But, oh, those tombs.
Back to the van
Side of Museum of Modern Art, Roskilde
I’d left Jenny long enough, so needed to get back. My route took me through this arch, which joins the cathedral to Roskilde’s Museum of Contemporary Art. You’d think you were in Spain.
Front of Museum of Modern Art, Roskilde
When you get to the front of it, you see the museum building clearly belongs to northern Europe. It was built in 1733 to the design of Laurits de Thura, a Dane. Originally, it was the bishops’ palace and it still serves that function today, as well as housing art.
Watch out for me! Roskilde
The final picture is of this notice I passed near the ship museum. You see it on private roads in Denmark where children might be playing. It’s the outcome of a 1957 trans-Nordic safety competition won by Per Ohlin, a Swede. Pas på mig! means “Watch out for me!”. It’s a charmingly effective design and doesn’t look anything like 55 years old.