Weekend, May 24 & 25
When we planned our trip it seemed we were going to take in much of the folk festival yet as this weekend has approached, we have become very laid back about it. We are so laid back in fact that we don’t buy any tickets, we don’t drive out of town. Still, although the festival takes place on nine different islands, much of it happens right here in Stromness.
We pick up a program flier and are rather alarmed at the prices of admission to many of the events, 10 to 20 pounds a person ($18 to $36) which wouldn’t be daunting if it were dollars instead of pounds or if we had any idea which events might be most worthwhile. Meantime the town does begin to fill up in a moderate sort of way. This is more like the Newport Folk Festival circa 1964, when I sat right at the feet of Pete Seeger, Theodore Bickel, Joan Baez. We hear strains of music drifting from pubs and there are groups forming outside a couple of cafes down near the pier for impromptu pick-up sessions. No one is willing to say “Let’s go here…let’s go there….” We are all waiting for the other person to take the initiative. It doesn’t happen; we haven’t done our research and we are unsure of each other’s musical tastes and don’t want to impose. (At least, that is what I think.)
On Saturday there is a pipe band in Sinclair tartan that takes shape and eventually marches down Ferry Road to Victoria Street and plays for quite a while near the Stomness Hotel. We wander toward the pier and sitting around a table, ales in hand, is an informal group playing fiddles, clarinet, bodhran, guitars, squeezebox, flute and penny whistles.
There is a fiddlers’ rally scheduled for Sunday afternoon in the Stromness Academy Lecture Theatre and we decide that will be our big commitment, pound-wise. Meanwhile the caretaker for the cottage has shown up–the first actual contact we have had with someone connected to our spot–and he fixes the Wi-Fi connection (we have no idea what magic he has wrought but now Michael can get email and although I can get on line, I can’t get email) and sets the TV so we will be able to watch some of the DVDs that have been left there.
We see two young fiddlers and Michael asks them how long they have been playing. “Since I was four” says one.
Sunday morning Lynn and I go for a walk along streets not previously visited and shortly after lunch we four head over to the Academy (high school) so to be sure to get tickets. It’s lucky we do because by 2 o’clock the auditorium is packed and the concert begins. There are three different groups participating in various configurations, both the West Mainland and Orkney Strathspey & Reel Societies and the Orkney Accordion & Fiddle Club plus four of the five members of Feis Rois Ceilidh Trail. I know I have never seen so many accordions in one spot! They fill the stage. We recognize the young fiddlers sitting on the wall (above) in the youth group.
The director is a woman who with a minimum of fuss manages to get the groups on and off and reconfigured. During the intermission and after a particularly beautiful piece has been played Michael goes down to speak with her about it. It is a wedding piece written by a young violinist and the director pulls a copy of the music from one of the music stands and gives it to him. (He will upon returning home take the theme, embellish and enlarge it and compose variations on it for piano and play it for all of us on a recent Monday afternoon. We are misty-eyed when he finishes.)
One of the members of Feis Rois is the young–and very handsome–Eric Linklater, originally from Stromness (and not a relative of the writer Eric Linklater), whose playing we wish we could hear more of. Jill manages to buy the last copy, possibly in all Mainland, of his CD at the Reel in Kirkwall. The two sopranos have clear, sweet voices and they sing several traditional Gaelic songs, a guitarist accompanies.
Upon reflection I do wish we had bought tickets to one of the closing concerts that evening but instead we head to the cottage and another evening of knitting and a very strange and dark episode of Dr Quirk, I think it’s called.
And here are our weekend meals.
Chicken Tikka Masala, a classic Cynthia non-recipe concoction making use of the strange vegetables lurking in the crisper drawer.
In a wok cook over a fairly hot flame, in olive oil
1 lg onion, sliced
6 to 8 cloves garlic, sliced
1/2 a bell pepper julienned
1 hot pepper
1/4 head savoy cabbage
2 sliced and parboiled parsnips
Add 1/2 bottle dark beer, salt, pepper, cumin, herbes de provence
In a separate pan cook 6 chicken thighs, cut into manageable pieces and 1 c sliced mushrooms
Combine and add 6 to 8 oz tikka masala sauce (jars of all these Indian sauces are widely available there) and a Tbl chopped cilantro. Squeeze a lemon over the top. Serve with herbed rice and a dash of chili powder.
A bottle of Tesco’s Chilean shiraz went well with it. Like all my “recipes” there is a great deal of latitude here!
Sunday night Jill prepares Tabouli for 4
2 c bulgur
2 tsp salt
1 1/2 c boiling water
1/2 c olive oil
juice of 2 lemons
2 cloves garlic chopped fine
1 onion, diced
1 green pepper, diced
1 cucumber, diced
1 tomato, diced
1 Tbl finely chopped fresh peppermint or spearmint
1/2 c finely chopped fresh Italian parsley
1/2 tsp black pepper
In a large bowl mix bulgur with salt and boiling water. Cover for 20 minutes stirring occasionally. Add the oil and lemon juice and let sit for another 10 minutes. Toss in chopped vegetables, mint, parsley and pepper and refrigerate for several hours, stirring from time to time. Serve with pita, black olives and feta.