Firecracker and Fiddletunes

‘A fireracker’

‘a right character’

‘She’s quite incredible’

‘an amazing woman’

‘she has done so much to promote Cumbrian music’

‘if you’re in the area, you have to meet her’

I heard this all the time from people in Kendal. So naturally, I arranged to meet the legend that is Carolyn Francis. She’s a busy woman; she teaches folk fiddle in schools all over Cumbria, and runs an adult music group, Carolyn Francis and the Lakeland Fiddlers, who meet up in a community centre in Kendal on a tuesday night.

Tuesday night, I was there at the community centre. Carolyn had said she would be turning up later, so I had chance to meet the group and play a tune or two with them.

There is half of me that wants to just sit and play when I meet other musicians, but on this adventure, there’s another half of me that tells me to put my fiddle down and pick up the ipad and record some of these tunes.

The Lakeland Fiddlers play mainly music from Cumbria, traditional tunes, and tunes written by local musicians. It’s run a bit like an adult education class – everyone pays a subscription, Carolyn teaches the tunes, and occasionally they play out at gigs. They’re a lovely relaxed group of people who made me feel very welcome and were interested in my journey.

Here’s the group playing Keswoick Bonnie Lasses. This was written by William Irwin a local chap who died in the 1860s and is buried in the Chapel Stile church.

‘We play this over his grave sometimes- a tradition we’ve started. He was a well known local teacher and music writer – he used to walk over to play at a dance in Keswick, walk back then work the next day.’

Here’s Cumberland waltz, an old traditional tune, and Furness – a slightly newer tune.

At this point, Carolyn arrives, and the room filled with her energy and her infectious laughter. It’s an extraordinary thing, being in the presence of someone with such a magnetic personality, and with all the praise and admiration i had heard about her before meeting her, I felt a little bit intimidated, which lasted for about three seconds. She insisted that I taught them a tune from my travels, so I taught them Nine Brave Boys, which I had learnt from the Bagas Crowd in Cornwall, a similarish group who play Cornish tunes.

Cup of tea time, and back on the Cumbrian tunes – The Helmwind written by Peter Corkhill, a local fiddle player. The Helmwind comes over the Pennines when coming from the east and forms the Helm cloud which loops and curls round the mountains. Road to Alston – the Helmwnd curls there. (Incidentally, I learnt Road to Alston years ago from Jamie Knowles, who I revisited recently in Glossop. Ooo the connecting webs are getting stronger)

The Helmwind/Road to Alston

Carolyn also writes music, and the group play some of her compositions.

Carolyn:

‘I lived in Dent, rented a house near a waterfall, it was wet and dark for 3 months, but i wanted to write music. Cissy Middleton was an old woman who lived in Dentdale at Gawthrop’

Cissy Middleton / Dentdale Diggers/Flintigale Fall

They finished the evening off with a coupe of tunes: Patterdale cross (Phillip Bull)/ Bang Upp Hornpipe.

I do love these groups and people that keep traditional music alive – finding and playing local tunes that might otherwise have been forgotten or laid languishing in a dusty manuscript waiting for someone to come along and remember them.

Hats off to all those unsung heros who hunt down these tunes and bring them to life, and make sure that there’s new generation who can enjoy them. Thanks to all the Carolyns, the Jamies, the Gwilyms, the Jim Eldons. I’ve heard people talking about you, and it’s all good stuff they’re saying, guys.

Stopped over with Carolyn, not before putting the world to right over a couple of pints. It just so happened that the next day, Wednesday, Carolyn had to be up early because she was teaching in schools in Carlisle. And it just so happened that Carlisle is a nice day’s walk from Brampton where I had an invitation to visit Frank and Corrie, tunesmiths and instrument makers. So I did it. I got a lift to Carlisle and walked to Brampton.

I walked up 100 steps to get to that viaduct. I didn’t have to, cos I had to walk down again, but what a view

I never got a photo of Carolyn, as she was running late when she dropped me off, but she’s there in the videos, green trousers, full of life. Amazing woman. Firecracker.

Tomorrow’s blog – at Frank and Corrie’s. This is the adventure that keeps on giving.

Kendal Calling…

Sunday night, I’m staying with Ian and Carol Hatwell,They live in Kendal and offered to put me up if I was passing though which I am and they did.

We’re all too tired tonight to go out anywhere so they agree to play me some tunes. I first met Ian through dulcimers, he’s a dulcimer player, and Carol plays the harp.

Ian Hatwell:

‘How I came to be playing the dulcimer – I heard Jim Couza playing dulcimer in folk clubs; I loved his playing. My wife told me to stop going on about Jim Couza and learn to play a dulcimer.

‘I got a beaker at the 25th year anniversary of the Nonsuch Dulcimer Club (https://www.dulcimer.org.uk/index.html) for being a founder member. That’s how long I’ve been playing…

‘I’m going to play a Scandinavian tune called Lillpolska Paa Harpen. The first time I heard it my wife was playing it, she’d brought it back from a harp weekend, probably one of Charlotte Peterson’s tunes. Charlotte has a danish father and a Scottish mother. It’s her arrangement.

‘Lillpolska Paa Harpen‘

https://youtu.be/CPmh924SPEM

Carol Hatwell:

‘In Cumbria we have a harp society called ‘Harps Northwest’ which is a charity whose aim is to promote the playing and enjoyment of harp music. (http://www.harpsnorthwest.org.uk/

‘Over the last 20 or so years, it’s grown from 2 people able to play the harp to 90 members, all ages, from 8 – 80 and we’ve got 17 or 18 harps that we rent out cheaply to children and adults. We run beginners courses with harps provided throughout the year.

‘We have four professional teachers throughout the year and we organise a biannual weekend festival for the small harp with professional tutors. Every year in November we choose the tutors for a harp course which is held in Higham Hall near Keswick.

‘One of our teachers, Mary Dunsford, she places on YouTube what she calls the January challenge for harpists anywhere in the world. She films on you tube 2 or 3 tunes, teaching 4 bars a day til the end of January. There’s a teaching video and a play along video. You can find the link on harpsnorthwest.org.uk and the current challenge is still on YouTube.

‘This piece is written by Shetland fiddler Tom Anderson Da Slockit Light’ (the slaked light). He wrote it when he saw people moving away and the lights going out on the island. His wife had died and he knew grief was coming as well.’

‘Da Slockit Light’

Monday morning, Carol and Ian got in touch with their friends Peter and Fiona Rigg, who are musicians. Peter is an instrument maker, and they are both Nyckelharpa players. Nyckelharpas, it seems, are like buses. You never see one, ever, then you see three in a month.

We arranged a morning music session at their house in Kendal, so off we went for the most wonderful Monday morning in the company of Peter and Fiona Rigg. http://www.riggmusic.co.uk/

Pete heard about my Magic Fluke travel fiddle, and anted to compare it with a pochette fiddle that he had made. Here they are making friends with each other:

Pete’s Pochette and my Magic Fluke travel fiddle

Fiona:

‘We’re both session players in this area, we met through music, both involved in ceilidh bands.

‘Pete got into instrument making about five years ago, making harps, mandolins, five string fiddles, Hurdy Gurdy, dulcimer, and most recently Nyckelharpa.

‘We both fell in love with the sound of the Nyckelharpa, which took us into Swedish dance music which then led us into french music and dance.

‘Pete first heard the Nyckelharpa about thirty years ago

‘Every year in Settle – at the May bank holiday weekend there’s a Scandinavian music fest – Skandimoot.’

Pete:

‘I made the first Nyckelharpa and couldn’t make it play properly. We went to the Skandimoot and met Carol Turner who played it and made it play. She did something that we weren’t doing. So we arranged to meet up with her in Sheffield to find out what she was doing that we weren’t.

‘We realised that if you’re going to pay Nyckelharpa you need to play Swedish music. And if you’re playing those tunes, you need to learn the dances to get the rhythm right. This led us on to learning French dance music which also sits nicely on the Nyckelharpa.

‘Through learning styles and instruments like this we’ve got an invite to go to the Swedish Nyckelharpafestival in Tokyo where they will lend us Nyckelharpas because they are difficult to travel with. It’s amazing where music will take you, the doors it can open for you.’

Hambo enter Erik Hartvig

https://youtu.be/NutlpwLTNYo
‘The one and the three beats – that’s Swedish rhythm’

And just for fun, Pete and I jammed a tune on dulcimers.

https://youtu.be/5XZsBCZmE3o
Ian, Carol and I left Pete and Fiona to their packing – they were off to Canada on Wednesday. Just before we left we were talking about instruments and places, and Pete mentioned a gurdy player they had met called Quentin and asked if I knew of him, as he lived in my neck of the woods. ‘Know him?’ Says I, ‘I was married to him!’ Hahaha small world.

That afternoon, Ian, Carol and I went for a walk along Scout Scar, above Kendal, which has the most spectacular 360 degree views.

If only I knew how to use that panorama function on my phone camera…

Monday evening, and folks had mentioned about a folky session in the Ring O’ Bells in Kendal, so Ian, Carol and I set off for a wander into town to check out the session. To be perfectly honest, it wasn’t the sort of session that I normally enjoy, I’m a someone-starts-a-tune-and-everyone-joins-in-and-there’s-not-many-guitars kind of girl, and the Monday night at the Ring O’ Bells is more of what one might call a ‘singaround’ – you go round the room and everyone does a turn, and anyone can join in if they like. And though there were a lot of guitars, there was also a penny whistle, some bodrhans, someone reading poems, someone who sang pop songs as though they were old folk ballards – I don’t think it was done intentionally, it was just Acapella. And there was someone whistling tunes, not on a penny whistle, he just whistled them.

To be honest, the good humour and the jollity in the room was infectious, so we settled in and had a right good night.

Gravestone at the widest church in england in Kendal. Nice to think that people have always been kind to strangers

Yes of course I took Naked Actionman along with me. He loves a good castle, so he does.

Everyone I spoke to in the area mentioned Carolyn Francis, a fiddle player, collector and writer of tunes, teacher of fiddles and all-round extraordinary woman, so I arranged to meet up with her on tuesday night, and had a day to wander round Kendal being a tourist and say my farewells to Ian and Carol, who have been the most wonderful hosts. It’s always bittersweet saying goodbyes; people let me into their lives and houses make me feel comfortable, safe and secure, and look after me, share stories and food, and just as I feel as though I could get used to this, I’m on my way again. I couldn’t do this journey without you – thankyou everyone who has given me a bed for the night.

Ian and Carol Hatwell. Lovely people and top hosts x

In tomorrow’s blog I’ll tell you all about when I finally met the legend that is Carolyn Francis…

It all Happens in West Yorkshire

So I gets to Wakefield, and I meet up with a woman who is making podcasts about artists and how home relates to their work.

It was strange describing how even though I still consider East Yorkshire to be my home, I had burnt all my bridges – given up the rent on my house, got rid of all my furniture and everything I own is stored in Scunthorpe in twenty small boxes, plus my musical instruments, and some demijohns of home brew wine stored in my mother’s garage. (The wine, incidentally will be ready for drinking in September. Party round at momma’s house).

Had I not burned my bridges, I’d have been back home by now, cos it’s easy to come up with reasons to be back home when there’s a back home to return to. When there’s not a back home to go to, it’s easier to find reasons to keep on going.

What was also strange about being in Wakefield was that I was a student at Bretton Hall, and Wakefield featured strongly in my student days, so it was peculiar being there, with snippets and hints of the place I once knew so well, and whole swathes of it new and unfamiliar. I had a look around the Hepworth Gallery, which wasn’t there before. It was very arty, minimalistic, modern, and situated by the canal, which I never knew existed, but the canal must have been there long before I last visited. I was an art student, so felt obliged to visit the gallery, but, maybe sculpture just isn’t my bag.

Naked Actionman in the Hepworth Gallery, explaining to me about sculpture

Apart from meeting Lesley and her podcast interview, I had also arranged to meet up with an old mate from my student days, Tony Wade, and his partner, Helen. Tony and Helen are both artists, proper ones, real ones. They are talented, creative and active with their art. They don’t talk and moan about lack of opportunities, they crack on and do it. There is a strong artist community in Wakefield, the council are very supportive, and there are art studios and art spaces, and more planned. Art hub of the North, Wakefield.

Tony and Helen had put word out among the Wakey Folkies that I was heading into town and if anyone wanted to meet up Wednesday night, I’d be there at the Polka Hop pub.

I’d never been to the Polka Hop pub before and if you love your beer and are ever in Wakey I’d urge you to go. They have great beer, and it’s a fab pub. I walked in, and a local Rapper Morris troupe (the Leeding Edge Rappers) were practicing their steps. I thought it was for my benefit, but no – that’s what they do on a weds night.

Here they are going over one part of a dance. I’d never considered how much practice goes into learning a dance like this, but watch this and consider away…

People wandered in during the evening and we played tunes together, they played tunes for me, we drank fine beer, and we all had a magical evening.

Here’s a few tunes I collected:

Carole Sherwell: ‘what i like about the Northumbrian waltzes is the intervals they are are so strange and haunting…

First one is called Swindon – nothing to do with Wiltshire there’s a visage in Northumberland of that name..the second one – Elsey’s waltz – both written by Archie Dagg.’

https://youtu.be/rai69WJwbX0

Veronica Keszthelyi and Matt Cook from the Leeding Edge Rapper (officially from Leeds, but practice in Wakefield) playing Drowsy Maggie:

These next two guys sneaked into the pub and surreptitiously got out a bodrhan and a piccolo flute, joined in with a few tunes then played this storming set:

Bob Thomas / Mick Doonan – Lord Mayo /?

The Polka Hop pub is named after a Morris step – Sarah and John Earnshaw who own the pub are both Morris dancers and musicians.

Sarah and John Earnshaw – Landlords of The Polka Hop

Here’s a picture of myself with Tony Wade and Mikal Ball, we were best of mates when we were students, and Mikal did us the favour of working out how many years ago it was when we were first students. I’m not going to tell you. It was that long ago.

Mikal, me, and Tony. Many many years ago we indulged in hedonistic pursuits and drank a lot. How times have changed.

Next day – Thursday, Tony and I had tentatively arranged to do a Bretton tour and play Hunt The Hare in our old haunts, but he had to oversee rework going up in a train station and go to a meeting about a saint’s finger, so Mikal was off work with ganglions and gallantly offered himself as my guide.

A miserichord in Wakefield cathedral – thanks Mikal for finding it for me.

Wakefield town centre at 9am is not a pretty sight. And Mikal loves to moan. So we grumbled all the way to Yorkshire Sculpture Park, where Bretton hall, our college used to be. The college shut some years ago, but the grounds are still there and the YSP is quite magnificent. We moaned about the demise of the college, we moaned about the heat, we moaned about the school parties and their boundless enthusiasm. We moaned about getting old, we moaned about pretty much everything, it was brilliant.

We did find great amusement in the artistic descriptions of the sculptures and installations. This, we decided is why we would never make it as artists. We didn’t have the essential bullshit factor. I wish I’d taken some notes, but you really have to see it to believe it. Have a go on this and it will give you some idea https://www.artybollocks.com/generator.html

By early afternoon, we were knackered, so caught the bus back to wakefield, said our farewells and I went back to Tony and Helen’s to catch up on my blogs.

Next morning (Friday) Tony took me to the canal so I could walk to Leeds

Just keep walking that way, you can’t go wrong

Got halfway there then got lost when I met two women who were also walking somewhere, but not to Leeds. We decided if we all went the same way, we couldn’t possibly be wrong. We were.

Ended up doing the second half of the way to Leeds on the roads which is a horrible walk.

City of Leeds taunting me in the distance… come and find me

On the way I got in touch with three of my Leeds Muso friends who were all away or about to head off to festivals or stuff, but one kindly suggested somewhere to meet up with The Lovely John who was joining me for the weekend.

Golden Acres Park, (thanks Chill for the suggestion) is north of Leeds and is a beautiful park with benches and lakes and woods and things. I arrived there, sent the Lovely John a location marker and waited for him to turn up. It was a beautiful warm evening and I fancied treating myself to an hour playing the fiddle – found a bench away from it all, and started playing. You know when you get into the zone, you close your eyes and remember tunes you’ve heard and tunes you love to play and you’re away with it? That was me, until I stopped playing cos I got stuck on a tune, opened my eyes and there was people clapping on the other side of the lake and people clapping behind me in the woods. It just suited the evening, apparently.

Young man came up with his family and was asking about my fiddle in such a way as I could tell he was a musician, so naturally I got him to play me a tune or two for my blog.

Golden acre park Rob Bromley – Hog the lass til I run at her:

The road to cartmel

The Lovely John rang and said ‘I’m in the carpark, where are you?’

Come through the underpass and find me. I’m playing the fiddle.

He found me. Asked everyone he saw: ‘have you seen a red-haired woman playing a fiddle?’

Next blog: wild camping – Ilkley moor with hats, malham moor, north and further north to a places bursting with musicians and music.

Between the Angels and the Clouds

Rosie Gange was one of the first people to invite me to share music with her, before I’d even set off. I think in our mind’s eye, we imagined that we would walk the gorgeous Glossop hills is the sunshine, stopping only to picnic and play our fiddles aloft a hilltop as the birds sang overhead.

My Lovely Rosie – we managed a little walk together, and we managed to play music together, but not at the same time. We have promised each other we’ll do some walks next year.

What we didn’t take into consideration was timing, weather, and availability. The thing I’m realising with my adventures that i can predict where I’ll be for the next two or three days, but beyond that I’m at the mercy of many different factors that can change timings and directions. And that other people have lives and agendas that really don’t circle around mine. And that when the weather is awful, and by awful i mean raining cats and dogs, there’s usually only me who is keen to walk.

Rosie had stuff to do, I arrived at a random time, and it rained.

So, I had a lovely stay with Rosie and Jamie, but i set off on my own in the rain, heading over the hills to Holmfirth, to meet Jan Ansell and her band who were rehearsing that night. I’m sorry to say, but Nakedactionman was tucked up in my rucksack.

Heading along the valley on the Longdendale Trail. It rained.

Heading up along the Woodhead Pass. Yes that’s a cloud ahead and I’m heading into it.

That’s Derbyshire, same view, when the cloud clears for three seconds

#proudfaceme. I climbed all that way through rain and clouds.

Hahahahaha that’s a frame at the summit so you can photograph the view. Hahaha

This walk was five miles along the Longenden Trail, five miles climb into the clouds to Holme Moss, and five miles descent into the Holme Valley to Holmfirth.

It was a little bit terrifying, heading up the hill realising that I was heading for the cloud bank and I wouldn’t be able to see more than ten yards ahead of me. I remembered an old man who used to tell me that when you were up in those hills it was like being between the ‘divil an’ t’ deep blue sea’. I’m not sure where the deep blue sea came from, but it felt more like walking between the angels and the clouds.

There was something about that sense of isolation and being totally and utterly alone that was calming and exciting at the same time. Yes there were cars passing infrequently, but they didn’t see me. Nobody saw me, not even the sheep.

Note to self: get something hi viz to wear.

But I was an incredibly proud old Hector when I completed the walk. I rang Jan when I got into Holmfirth and she drove down from the hills above Holmfirth on the opposite side, and picked me up.

Jan contacted me some time ago – she’d seen my posts on facebook, looked me up and realised that we both studied at Bretton Hall and even though we were years apart and never met, she felt honour-bound to offer me food and a bed and show me the music that she plays in a band with her husband, Steve (also an ex-Brettonite).

Steve and Jan live with their two children, two dogs and malevolent cat in a house in the hills high above Holmfirth – back up into the clouds again. The views were, apparently, just as spectacular as the views I didn’t see walking over the Holme Moss Pass.

I was fed and watered royally, and the band arrived for their tuesday night rehearsal.

The band, the Good Earth Collective (http://www.goodearthcollective.co.uk/) were preparing for some upcoming gigs. Most of the songs are written by Steve, and it was most enjoyable watching and listening, and they even insisted that I joined them with my fiddle.

Steve Ansell talking about ‘Rust’:

‘Rust was written at a time when my dad died, Jan was ill, and my friend in the band Carl was ill, going through cancer treatments, and he still came to rehearsals, still turned up and played. Music takes you somewhere else to a place you can cope with anything.‘

‘Southern Rain – I’ve written this song as a sort of composite of images of love songs.’

https://youtu.be/2I22x9wUcGU

I’m on my adventure, but for most people life goes on as normal, so Steve was up early in the morning off to work, Jan did the school run, and offered to take me down into the valley, as soon as she’d made me eggy bread for breakfast. Nomnomnom.

The one thing (and there are many things) that I love about my adventure is how lovely, hospitable and interesting people are.

Jan even made a little coat for Naked Actionman.

Fashion Designer Jan Ansell with her latest creation. Us Brettonites can turn our hand to anything.

Jan decided that we should have a memory lane trip around our old Bretton places – she lived in Denby Dale as a student; I lived in Skelmanthorpe, or ‘Shat’ as it is called locally, and we had a wonderful journey pointing out places where things used to be, where people used to live, where misdemeanours once occurred and this continued all the way to Wakefield. I thought I was getting a lift to Holmfirth, but we were having way too much fun to stop.

I had arranged to meet a woman called Lesley in Wakefield who was interviewing artists for her podcast, on the theme of a sense of home and how belonging affects your art.

I’ll tell you all about it in my next blog. And also my stay with some other ex-Bretton Hall students, this time they were old mates of mine, and the magical night at the Polka Hop, and the trip to Yorkshire Sculpture Park, where Bretton Hall used to be.

And some amazing art and some totally over the top art explanations

Naked Actionman modelling his new coat in the Hepworth Gallery, Wakefield.

But for now, if you’ll forgive me, it’s actually Friday 28th, The Lovely John is meeting me for the weekend, and I’m not planning on doing any blogging, cos he’s only with me for about 30 hours, so you’ll have to wait til next Monday to find out what I got up to last Wednesday. It’s going to be a heatwave this weekend, so enjoy, walk away from the computer and get the Barbecue lit.

Nyckelharpas, Dulcimers and a fiddle

I’ve been in Sheffield since Wednesday afternoon, and I’m heading off today, Friday. I’ve had a busy old time meeting musicians, eating Chinese takeaway and drinking beer. I persuaded my son to play me a tune on his dulcimer, and he had persuaded his friend to come over and play something on his Nyckelharpa.

So I am quite excited for several reasons, one being I have never seen a nyckelharpa played live in the flesh so to speak, my son is going to play a piece on the dulcimer, and The Lovely John has taken Friday off work, and has come over to sheffield to spend the weekend with me.

Let me tell you a little bit about me, my son, and his dulcimer:

I bought the hammer Dulcimer that my son is playing when I worked in Japan in 1988. My son was conceived in Japan, and when he turned 21, I gave him that dulcimer for his birthday. He’s nearly 30 now, and is a good dulcimer player in his own right; he’s standing in for me at some gigs this summer, playing a dulcimer I bought before he was born.

So Here, for your delectation and delight, is my son Zebedee Budworth, playing a couple of tunes he learnt from a fiddler in a waistcoat in a London pub session.

Robert Bentall is a nyckelharpa player who lives in Sheffield. He told me about the instrument he plays:

‘The Nyckelharpa is a Swedish traditional key fiddle – it has an idiosyncratic short bow and 16 strings. I play it in Swedish tuning c – g – c- a

‘There are 4 bowing strings and 12 sympathetic, tuned chromatically; 3 rows of keys, top row for the A string, another row for the higher C string, and other for the G – low C has no sympathetic strings.

‘It’s built on a Traditional Swedish layout – based on when they were first build, at least 800 years ago.

‘I was a string player and defected into music technology, resonances and reverbs – this instrument, the Nyckelharpa, the more strings you play, the more they ring out.

‘I discovered the Nyckelharpa when I was working in Sweden, I saw someone playing it, and became obsessed about having one. I Googled uk nyckelharpa society, borrowed an instrument, had lessons and started improvising and mucking around on the instrument.

A lot of the trad Swedish tunes are based around the polka rhythm

Batsman deck – this is a typical Scandinavia tune.’

https://youtu.be/JQHEnlKLqks

‘The Swedish tunes often crossover with Finnish tunes, this tune is called: ‘Emma fram Finland’ (or Emma’s) it’s a famous tune/song in Scandinavia.’

Xxxxx

I absolutely love the sound of the Nyckelharpa- eerie and ethereal, sends shivers down your spine, so it does. Zeb and Robert are developing working together, the dulcimer and the Nyckelharpa compliment each other beautifully, and they agreed to play an unrehearsed improvisation so I could film it and share it. It’s a long piece, ten minutes, but well worth a listen in its entirety – grab a cup of tea, put your feet up and enjoy:

And finally, of course I wanted a piece of the action, so they humoured zeb’s poor old mam and let me join in with my travel fiddle – here’s the three of us playing ‘Emma Fram Finland’:

Xxxxxx

the xxxx’s are where the videos may or may not upload – one thing I didn’t count on is the unreliability of internet connections. If they con’t upload, I’ll upload them whenever I get to somewhere with many internetty options, otherwise you will just have to imagine. And If I’m waiting for things to upload, then I don’t get the blog out.

And watch out for tomorrow’s blog – it’s going to be a good one – it features Naked Action Man…

Rainbow People

One of the women in the Ashram had mentioned some people from a local folk club to get in touch with, and Nathan duly responded and was willing to meet up with home on Tuesday morning and play me a tune or 2.

So after morning prayers and meditation and a super healthy breakfast, I packed my rucksack, donned my boots and left the peace of the ashram for the craziness of Glastonbury High street. I have been to Glastonbury once before years ago when my kids were little, and it hasn’t changed much. I still feel like a wide-eyed stranger looking in amazement at the proliferation of hippie shops and weird and wonderful characters strolling along the street. There are workshops advertised in most windows on every aspect of healing, soul cleansing, psychic this that and the other; by all rights, these native glastonburyions should be the most sorted people in the planet, with all the resources available to them.

Found the Rainbow’s End Cafe, where I had arranged to meet Nathan, and anther part of my adventure began. Nathan is a folk musician and music teacher. He is a really interesting man, bursting with a thousand stories to tell, and he shared a few of them with me. Here’s his stories about the tunes he played for me:

NATHAN LEWIS WILLIAMS – Music teacher/folk musician.

‘THE DREAM WALTZ- by Hurdy Gurdy player Cliff Stapleton – the story of why I love this tune is – it’s in the mixylodian mode, in three time, always my favourites, it has three parts, it has beautiful chords.

I first heard it played on a mandolin by a friend of mine, I was only just learning how to pay melodically on the guitar, and he played me the dream waltz, it sounded so intricate and beautiful, I sent out a prayer across the landscape: please let me learn that tune.

I was cycling all over Somerset, teaching music, and once I‘d learnt it myself I started teaching it to my pupils, and I petitioned quite hard for it to be included on an album i was making with local band Dragonsfly. It became the opening track on our album ‘Ridgeway’ the Dream Waltz is the tune that inspired me to write tunes.

THE RIDGEWAY. Written at Avebury the year after I first heard the Dream Waltz. I sat near the ridgeway and wrote it.

The Dongas tribe were road protesters who met at Twyfold Downs in ’93. They were travelling folk musicians, they walked with hand carts and lived on the land for 5-6 years. I moved to Glastonbury to join the Dongas and play Donga music. Sunny who introduced me to dream waltz was a Donga.

The melody of The Ridgeway is a dominant 7th arpeggio. I loved the idea of basing a tune around that arpeggio – what I didn’t realise was that The Ridgeway was extremely similar to a welsh song that I used to sing called Lisa Lan. It’s Wales’ equivalent to ‘She moved through the fair’. Both tunes have an ABBA structure first and last lines are the same. The Ridgeway is similar to the B line of Lisa Lan. It’s a slip jig though, rather than an air. The Ridgeway became the title track of the Dragonfly album, with Cliff Stapleton playing gurdy.

I still play the Dream Waltz with the Dongas every summer solstice on Windmill Hill at Avebury.

(Lisa Lan is also an English song called ‘So early in the spring’ – there’s a minor key version in Wales – all the same formula called ‘Ffarwel fo I Langyfelach Lon’

It took me ages to realise that it’s just Lisa Lan in a minor key).’

Here’s Nathan playing Lisa Lan and the Dream Waltz:

Nathan told me about a musician friend of his, Rohan, whom he met through the Dongas Tribe. Rohan had written some words to the folk tune ‘The Bear Dance’ which was now integrated into the local folk and festival scene and everyone thinks it’s a traditional song, but it isn’t, Rohan wrote it. And by a co-incidental quirk of fate, Rohan lives in Frome, which was my next port of call. Nathan also had some things he was going to pick up in Frome sometime this week, so it was decided that today would be the day to visit Frome, he would give me a lift, we would visit Rohan, and I could record his song.

ROHAN WHITE:

I started off playing percussion and ended up playing with a bunch of folk musicians in teepee valley in the ’90s, picked up loads of tunes, and the whistle is now my main instrument, picked one up in a festival and then learnt enough chords on a guitar to get by.

1: Fairy Lovers: this song is based on a fairy tradition of fairy lovers – a guy meets a fairy one night, she becomes his lover but she disappears at dawn, he never sees her again and spends the rest of his life looking for her. It’s set to the traditional tune : the bear dance.

https://youtu.be/xgjrbepVAIY

2: improvised tune on low eb whistle.

This is what happens when you take a chance – popped into an ashram, stayed the night, given a contact, which blossomed into interesting meets, incredible stories (the one about the jilted lover who wouldn’t let go, the one about the shepperton mallet Tesco’s protest, the one about getting locked in a room for three days, the one about the quack doctor hounded out of glastonbury, the one about Ed who lives in a van near Rohan, nearly made big time and walked away.)

Walked down the road to meet Tim, a hammer dulcimer maker, and subject of tomorrow’s blog.

Ed’s van. He wasn’t in, but I visited him.

When in Glastonbury…

I’m too tired – I’ve just deleted this post – so I’ll have to write it again.

I was feeling a wee bit miserable yesterday, which was exacerbated by the BnB where I was staying – my room was half storeroom, and every cupboard in the kitchen contained masses of bottles of homeopathic medicines and tablets, and there was stuff everywhere.. and a strange smell.

‘You WILL give me a five star rating when you review’, I was told, not asked, ‘because there was a mean woman the other day only gave me three stars. Can you imagine what that did to my ratings?’ ‘Mnuhuh,’ says I, deciding to not write a review at all.

Walked the three miles back into town to catch a bus from Taunton to Glastonbury – I was heading there because it is halfway to Frome where I’m meeting some musicians tomorrow, and Glastonbury is too far to walk in a day. Anyway, I had an hour to kill before the bus, so thought I’d sit and play my fiddle. Taunton is festooned with charity shops and one enormous Waterstones that looks like a Weatherspooons. I set up on a pedestrian precinct which turned out to be where the ‘town dwellers’ hang out. First to make my acquaintance was Busker Dominic and his half empty bottle of wine. He dropped it, and kept talking as he picked up every bit of glass. Couldn’t understand why I wasn’t into hallucinogens. ‘It’s the way forward’, he told me, ‘you don’t know who you really are til you’ve been pushed to the edge.’

I’m sitting there thinking: ‘bet you’ve never given birth to a ten and a half pound baby, that’s pushing it to the edge, mate.’

Busker Dominic also enlightened me on the joys of the A minor chord: ‘It’s a busker’s best friend. It’s the brightest of all the minor chords. I must know six songs in A minor. It’s the chord that’s pregnant with possibilities.’ There you go. A minor.

When Busker Dominic finally staggered off, and I started playing, it seemed to attract the ‘Town Centre Dwellers’, who were a happy bunch, they danced and clapped in all the right places. I stopped to pack up ‘Got a Bus to catch’, I told them. Their main man looked at me and announced: ‘it’s the next town where you find the jar of gems.’ ‘Always,’ says I. We nodded sagely at each other.

Two old dears at the bus station with trolleys full of shopping. ‘Ooo look, there’s a bus to Minehead, shall we jump on it and go have a swim in the sea?’ Says one. ‘We’d have to leave our trolleys here, I’m not going to do that,’ says the other and they both cackle. Imagine that said in an old lady taunton accent, and it’s very funny.

Glastonbury. What can I say? Within twenty minutes of arriving here, I had booked into an ashram which was situated temptingly on the way to the Tor. I left my rucksack there and climbed up to the top of the Tor and felt bloody brilliant.

I ate, had a bath, had a nana nap and went to the evening devotional service, which consists of sitting on the floor and singing songs that go on so long that you can’t help joining in with the simple beautiful melodies. I persuaded Nora afterwards to play a couple of the songs/chants so that I would remember the tunes. She kindly did a very heavily edited version for me.

Nora Gonczi: maha mantra

Nora Gonczi: evening arti tune – this is the tune we sing to Krishna when we do the evening offerings.

This is the sight that persuaded me to call in. I was in glastonbury after all, and as they say: ‘when in Rome…’

Ashram courtyard. My room is the wooden hut on the right.

Well chilled now, just done my morning meditation session, and after breakfast, I’m off to Frome. Catch ya later dudes x

Smelly Pits

I stink. I’m not normally a smelly sort of person, but dear god, my armpits. Why oh why are armpits so close to your nose? Note to self: as soon as I finish this blog post, find a shop and treat yourself to some deodorant, woman.

I’m meeting the brother of Janet today and he’s taking me to a musicians night at Great Torrington. Janet plays in Shiznitz with me, so I know and love her well, but have never met her brother. So, I’d better have sweet smelling pits. First impressions count, dahlinks.

Today, I got a lift most of the way to Oakhampton, which needs to be done in order to reach Great Torrington tonight. I did have a most pleasant walk in, impressed with how I was handling the ridiculously heavy rucksack. I have repacked it, thrown away two notebooks, and had a day without it yesterday, so we’re getting on fine today.

Can I take a moment to show you a picture of the Alternun Angel?

Andy the Altarnun Angel

He owns the B&B where I stopped for a couple of nights. He came up with the ‘plan B’, where I walked to Launceston yesterday and he picked me up, and also offered to drive me most of the way to Oakhampton today. When I arrived at his B&B, I was a bit down, tired, exhausted, and was close to giving in. A little rest and recuperation was all i needed, and a lift or two, and I’m back on track again. He’s lived all over, is a retired teacher and baptist minister and one of the kindest, gentlest person I’ve met in a long time. And he tells some brilliant tales.

So, I reach Oakhampton, (promises so much, but delivers so little), its got a castle, so I castled up and played a little medieval tune up in the keep:

‘Tristan’s Lament’, if you’re interested. It was ‘Tristan’s Feeling Fab’, til i started playing harharhar.

Me n fiddle in Oakhampton Castle

Headed into town – full of interesting little charity shops and cafes – and found a music shop/cafe down an arcade. I kind of had to go in. And have a cup of tea. They loved the fiddle, and Steven offered to play me something for my blog:

Steven playing Dark Necessities by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers

‘Twas a grand little shop – Music & Bean Co run by Terry. If you’re in Oakhampton, pop in. I did Oakhampton in half an hour, I wanted to sit somewhere and play my fiddle, but there’s nowhere really, so I have decamped to the library, where I’m getting the blog up to date, and waiting for my lift ‘cos I’ll be out playing tonight.

Terry trying to hide behind his counter. Owned a music shop but wouldn’t play me a tune. Pah.

The arcade in town where the shop is. Don’t worry you’ll find it.

And lastly, here’s a picture of Sid Simmonds, town benefactor who had a little play on my fiddle in the Museum of Dartmoor Life.

Right – Time to find me something to sweeten up my armpits. Xx

B plan and Bagas

Today started off with a B plan which was just as well, because I couldn’t find anywhere online to stay in Launceston, my next port of call. Plan B, offered last night by my wonderful air bnb host Andy, involved me walking to Launceston, and giving him a call and he’ll pick me up, as he had some errands over there anyway.

So I hobbled off to Launceston, saw the Castle, and had a lovely day. And the church in Altatnun (St Nonnas) where I’m stopping has incredible carvings on the edge of the pews. And Doctor someone or other had his wedding there in the tv series. The things you learn…

Flying the flag for Cornwall at the top of the castle

The beauty of this plan, was that even though it was raining, I didn’t have to take my rucksack, and what a difference that made to the walk. And it’s windy and mizzling now, as I’m back in the BnB, so I’m rather glad I’m not camping.

I do lots of things when I’m walking – my thoughts go all over the place, sometimes my mind pulls up memories, sometimes plans, sometimes the monsters try and take centre stage, but today, once I’d sang myself a song or two, I thought about getting a bit more organised on this walk, so people know where I’ll be at certain times. So I have decided to walk 100 miles every 10 days. If I’m not up to speed, then I’ll take a bus to get me there, if i’m ahead then i shall enjoy a rest. And I’m not beyond getting the odd lift. I’m making my own rules up here, and maybe in Scotland I’ll be skipping like a gazelle along the route, but for now, I feel every one of my 55 years, and I don’t see why I should suffer too much.

I’ll concoct a schedule of sorts for tomorrow, but meanwhile, here’s last Saturday’s meet up with the wonderful Bagas Crowd:

The Bagas Crowd are a community traditional music group run by Frances Bennet who meet every Saturday morning in Threemilestone Methodist Church to play and learn traditional Cornish music. Google them, they’re an amazing bunch of people of al all ages. I joined them last Saturday morning when it was led by Cathy Bennet (daughter of Frances, and who is a similar age to Bagas – 17ish).

The Cornish tunes they play are beautiful, haunting and lyrical, similar to the music of Brittany, but with more of a hint of mystery and yearning. Any musician passing through on a Saturday will be more than welcomed and you get to take home a Cornish tune or two.

NINE BRAVE BOYS

Tros An Treys/ Dynamite Quay (in 5/4 timing)

The second tune is a quay that was used to bring the dynamite in.

These two tunes were written by Len Davies – a banjo and mandolin player born and bred in Cornwall, he wrote us a good few tunes

Oll An Geriow/ Martin Jeffreys/ Tansy Golowon

Cathy, Rose, Joyce, and Barry on drum.

For some reason this won’t download on YouTube…

The Way Is Clear

played by Fern Carroll-Smith: ‘I love this because it’s a really pretty tune, slow and simple, a good one to learn for starting but good enough to perform. I’m starting up, a beginner, it’s early stages.’

When you can’t get enough of that old time stuff

Wednesday night was spent in the company of some very fine musicians in an old time session in a bar called Out of the Blue in Porthleven. Old Time music, for those who don’t know, is a traditional social dance music, American in origin, but mixed with all the various cultures of the settlers to the new world. It has worked its way back over the pond, and has many seemingly simple but hypnotic tunes , designed for dancing and wonderful to play. The tunes when payed in a session tend to be repeated many times – if you are a player, you know the tune by the last repeat, if you are dancing, you are totally in the ‘zone’, if you’re stuck in a pub and there’s a session going on, you may well be crawling up the walls. Me, I love it.

I’ve had a few days of music, so I’ll blog them over the weekend. But first, here’s some tunes from the players at Out of the Blue session, Porthleven.

Here’s some favourite tunes from the players:

1: My name is Guy Ponsford – I run the Asia Fest (Oldtime, Bluegrass, Americana Campout near Penzance, Cornwall). Favourite tune: Hawkes and Eagles, key of D. Love it because it’s fun to play along with, especially for a long time – ten minutes or more, starts to happen, cool groove to it, there’s only a couple of notes to it and everybody can get in on it, and there’s only two chords.

2: Ron Kane. Hook and Line in the key of G – one of my favourite tunes. I probably have about 500 favourite tunes – I wouldn’t learn them if they weren’t my favourites. Every single one. They’re like my children. One big happy family.

The words for this song:

Give me the hook and give me the line

Give me the girl they call Caroline

Took my hook and I give it a flip

Caught my pretty girl by the lip

Shout Luna, shout and shout

Tel me what you’re shouting about

Shout Luna, shout and sing,

Your grandmother’s gone till spring

3: My name is Kat Craddock, going to play Folding Down The Sheets. I like it cos it’s reasonably technical and I can play it and it’s quite unusual for oldtime music, not the standard oldtime type tune.

4: Paul Bennett, favourite tune this is The Old Man and The Old Woman – as played by Spencer and Rayne they got it from Eannis Chase it’s the Texas version, not to be confused with the Grumbling off man and the Grumbling old woman. I really like this tune because I dance in my head every time it’s played.

Thanks guys, I had a wonderful night.xxx

First Day – easing into the journey nicely, thank you

Woke up with the sun twinkling on the sea outside the Stealth Campervan.

Headed to Sainsbury’s where we will be parked til tomorrow. Then found the bus station – a lovely mile or so by the sea – where we boarded a bus to take us to Land’s End. This bus was open topped – so naturally we went up top, enjoyed the views although it took over an hour to get to L E round scarily small country lanes. But we braved it like good uns.

Land’s End: it just can’t help itself, it’s a bleak place. My dad took us there when I was little and despite his enthusiasm, it was a bleak place. I took my kids when they were little. They couldn’t understand why we were there.

I was there today with The Lovely John to begin my epic walk. I played my fiddle there, although I was feeling sick with nerves – not for the playing of the fiddle, but for the enormity of the walk ahead. We managed to successfully procrastinate for an hour, eating our packed lunch, watching the Germans, going to the hotel and getting our LEJOG certification signed. There is only so long that you can put off the inevitable, and we set off, me nervous to the pit of my stomach.

Bear in mind that I have no plan beyond head east in Cornwall, then north, and we re both long distance hiking novices, so we decided to walk to Penzance along the A30. My god what a road that is. I’m sure there’s a little off road track somewhere, but we didn’t find it and were dicing death with cars and coaches.

Having said that, it was a beautiful walk, warm, sunny, and we took our time, positively rambled along so we did, watching the miles disappear gently into the glorious hedgerows.

Two thirds of the way to Penzance we met Anton. We had stopped for a gleg of water, and Anton walked by in the opposite direction. He stopped to say hello, and he had walked from John O’ Groats. He’d been walking since beginning of April, camping along the way, and I was so proud of him. He wasn’t someone who had done a book about it, he wasn’t doing it for charity, he just fancied challenging himself. He was a real Top to Bottom hiker – proving that it’s possible, it’s amazing, it will seriously challenge you, but it will be an adventure you will never forget. He told me that, he did. He also told me about hi vis vests, scavenging from the roadside (you find everything there) and avoid the A30.

Got into the outskirts of Penzance and the first pub we found was the Pirate boasting ‘good, food, drink, sleep, and music’. Wanting to tap into the local music scene (although in fairness, I’m easing myself gradually into that) we asked the landlord about the music. ‘We’ve been here about a year,’ he said, ‘and before we took over, the local folk session was ruining the pub, they would take over the bar, and act as though they owned it, if anyone sat in their space they were right rude to them.’

Oops. Looks like despite the Pirate being a grand pub and grand beer, I’m not going to find my first folkie there.

Weatherspoons food (as recommended by Anton – ‘spoons all the way, never got the shits once), then bed.

yes, this is me at lands end, journey beginning

On the open topped bus Penzance to land’s End. Starting in style.

playing a tune ‘Johnny don’t get drunk’ to let John o Groats know I’m on my way

Me and the Amazing Anton – walked JOG to LE in almost 7 weeks. Bloody Legend.

Good old Weatherspoons – never lets you down.

Before I begin I’d like to introduce…

1: The Stealth Campervan –

This beautiful little piece of kit will be spending the first week with me as my back up vehicle. It has lots of everything in it, so I’ll be able to work out exactly how much I need in my rucksack when I step out alone next week. It will be making several appearances throughout the trip. And thanks to Jamie Newson-Smith for clearing out his storage and finding the mattress.

Back of The Stealth Campervan.

Inside the Stealth Campervan

Our view at Mouseholes Sunday night

The Stealth Campervan

2 – The Lovely John

The Lovely John is looking after me for the first week, he is driving the van and cycling back each evening to pick the van up from where we left it. He has just driven us all the way to Penzance, and we’re parked up in Mousehole enjoying a pint or two before the Big Walk. The Lovely John and The Stealth Campervan will be making regular appearances over the next few months. I hope.

The Lovely John

3: My New Boots and Fiddle

These are Scarpa walking boots, as recommended by Dave at Go Outdoors, Scunthorpe. I have never spent so much on footwear before, so these boots are going to get mentioned a lot. I’ve been wearing them in, but have yet to give them some serious stick.

The fiddle will be my constant walking companion and it is a sweet little treasure. It’s made by an American company – Magic Fluke, check out their website, they have some brilliant travelling instruments. My fiddle is the Cricket model. Love it, so I do.

New boots and fiddle

Me N Lou being geeks

The wonderful Lou Duffy Howard teaching me how to be a geek.

I’m learning how to do wordpress

Today I spent an informative afternoon with Lou Duffy Howard as she patiently explained the dark art of blogging on wordpress. I’m getting there. Slowly.