Country diary: Divers, porpoises and otters – this is a kinetic wildlife spot
I first landed in 1971 and have regularly seen porpoises, bottlenose dolphins, minke whales and, on occasion, basking sharks, but no trip here is complete without otters. This time, the first ones surfaced during the two-minute ferry across Cuan Sound, soon followed by two more enjoying the flume ride along a spring water runnel, a 'sheugh', towards the open sea. Amid the splashing and spluttering as they blew across the surface of the water like kids in a bath, they drew me on through a lush flush of wild watercress which I collected to later make soup with. They led me to the remains of an earlier catch being cleaned up by gulls, with a white‑tailed sea eagle watching on.
The big bird looked a bit tatty in her winter weeds and headed off for the dark and jagged Belnahua, another of the Slate Isles. I spotted an increasingly rare great northern diver sailing offshore, body slung low in the water. These are winter visitors to the UK, favouring shallow coastal areas for the ready supply of fish, squid, crustaceans and molluscs. Occasionally nesting in Scotland, they breed in Iceland, Greenland and the other side of the Atlantic where they are known as loons, famously seen and heard in the film On Golden Pond.
The bird ducked its head under the surface then propelled itself down with its powerful webbed feet. The wings are then used for further propulsion. Diving to depths of up to 60m, they can stay submerged for three minutes and usually swallow the fish before surfacing. It is fun, if futile, to predict when and where the diver will emerge.
With its jewel-like red eyes, my diver, like the white-tail, was a little scruffy, as it was morphing into its remarkable black and white chequered summer plumage, like the kinetic paintings of Bridget Riley.
Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian's Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at guardianbookshop.com and get a 15% discount
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Glasgow Times
14 hours ago
- Glasgow Times
The beauiful village raided by Vikings an hour from Glasgow
Popular among mountaineers, Arrochar is "steeped in history" and was even a major target for the Vikings during the Middle Ages. The location is said to be "nestled amongst the high mountains of the Arrochar Alps," which has been dubbed "some of the most beautiful scenery on the Cowal Peninsula". Why the 'beautiful' village of Arrochar is worth checking out The town was a key target for the Vikings during the Middle Ages (Image: Getty Images) Discussing the village near Glasgow and its past in greater detail, the Loch Lomond and Trossachs National Park website said it was first ruled by the barons of Arrochar and later by the chiefs of the MacFarlane Clan. In later years, the clan became cattle rustlers and would steal livestock from their neighbours in the middle of the night. This became such a frequent occurrence that the full moon became known as 'MacFarlane's lantern'. Arrochar also became a major target for Viking raiders who would drag their boats miles over land. They would continue to attack the unprotected inland settlement until 1263, when they were defeated at the Battle of Largs. Arrochar is popular with mountaineers and hill walkers (Image: Getty Images) While the town is popular among those looking to climb the likes of Ben Ime and Ben Arthur, there are also a number of nearby forest walks, according to Visit Scotland. For those looking to make a trip here, there are several hotels in the area as well as bars and eateries like the Ben Arthur Bothy and Arrochar Chippy. Recommended Reading: The Ben Arthur Bothy, which describes itself as a "friendly" and "traditional" pub, has been praised by patrons on Tripadvisor, with users giving it a 4.1/5 out of 755 reviews. One person said: "Nice wee place on the main street, great views, friendly vibe, attentive staff, nice food, reasonable price. Outside area to enjoy the view." Another added: "Such a warm, friendly atmosphere, the views were amazing and the food….. Wow! It's the best haggis, neeps and tatties that I have ever tasted!" A third simply penned: "Gem of a place with panoramic views of the beautiful Loch Long."
The Independent
4 days ago
- The Independent
Heatwave Britain could learn from Scandinavia about how to keep cool
It's hot. So hot, in fact, that my shins are currently sweating – something I didn't know was possible. Having relocated to the UK after 12 years in Denmark, I'm not prepared for this. Not because Scandinavia doesn't experience heatwaves – this summer, Finland has had three straight weeks of 30C heat, and the Arctic Circle has recorded a fortnight's-worth of record-busting temperatures – but because they are better equipped at dealing with it. That might seem strange, because Scandinavian homes are designed to keep the heat in rather than keep it out, and there are no air-conditioning units in sight. But Vikings handle the heat by taking to the water. In Denmark, you're never more than 50km from the sea. Sailing was the most important way to get around in Viking times – when land divided people and sea connected them. Aside from Jutland's 42-mile boundary with Germany, Denmark is entirely surrounded by water and made up of 406 islands (more, even, than Greece). This means that many Danes have access to the ocean or a body of water. Because Danes have a shorter working week (37 hours officially, though the average Dane puts in 33 hours, according to the OECD), they can fit in a second shift of leisure activities after clocking off in summer. With office hours typically falling between 8am to 4pm, you can be on the beach with your picnic before the asphalt starts to crack. There, Danes go paddle boarding. Or kayaking. Or windsurfing. Or actual surfing, in 'Cold Hawaii' (Klitmøller). And clean water means you can swim pretty much everywhere (unless there's been a major downpour churning up something unsavoury). I'm currently at the mercy of sadistic Instagram algorithms showing me Copenhageners executing perfect pencil-dives into city bathing spots – in their lunch hour. Worse: I'm still in a WhatsApp group with fjord-side friends in my old hometown of Vejle who are planning a BYOB 'sip and dip' tomorrow. I hope they have a lovely time. Obviously, I'll be submerging in the Thames in solidarity. It's not just Danes who are drawn to the water: Norwegians have a strong tradition of wild swimming year-round and Swedes spend summer sloping toward the nearest lake, clad in only a towel or robe. There's less prudishness around the body in Scandinavia, and while some stretches of beach near where I lived were nudist-designated, others were just 'free-spirited'. A quick naked dunk in the fjord would scarcely raise an eyebrow – and with sea temperature still a bracing 16.5 degrees, you could cool off in no time. Scandinavia's famously informal culture, with its lack of hierarchy, means there's no need to dress in anything too uncomfortable or constricting, even when clothes are required. It's perfectly acceptable to work in not very much and sleep in less. Thanks to the tradition of single duvets on double beds, Scandinavians enjoy a more comfortable night, too. This can seem odd to outsiders but makes perfect sense if, for example, you have a spouse who likes to be weighed down by several dozen togs while you slowly broil to death overnight. With the Scandinavian duvet system (SDS), each has the tog they desire or can do away with the duvet part altogether (I like just an empty cover at this time of year... TMI?). Come morning, Danes get going before the heat does, with schools and work starting at 8am. Smart friends proof their house for the day, with bedroom blinds down, windows closed and 'crossflow' saved for once the sun's gone down. Of course, at the height of summer, it's light until 11pm. The sun then rises to a deafening dawn chorus circa 4am. A sleep-deprived delirium ensues every year, regardless of the temperature. And yet, rather than adopting the foetal position and whimpering (my impulse), Danes just seem to cope. Possibly because they're caffeinated out of their minds. Danes are among the highest consumers of coffee globally. Friends visiting last weekend drank coffee solidly from 8am until midnight (and they were still more laid-back than me). Deprived of such stimulants, I asked my three Danish born and bred children for their overriding memories of surviving hot days in Denmark. The youngest answered instantly: 'Ice cream for breakfast!' The others nodded. I have no recollection of this. Then again, I might have been particularly sleep deprived. Still, a night under a single Scandi duvet, a double latte and a quick dunk should have me back on track by tomorrow. Failing that? Ice cream for breakfast might be a good shout.
Telegraph
28-07-2025
- Telegraph
The four berry recipes you need this summer – from tarte aux fraises to a simple raspberry sorbet
I've hunted all over northern and central Europe for wild berries, either picking them myself or paying for the fruits of someone else's labour. I eventually got to eat the hardest to find, the cloudberries of Scandinavia (the colour of salmon flesh), on a farm in Norway. I say farm but most of the food they dealt with was wild – fish (Arctic char and trout), reindeer, wild mushrooms and berries. Our first meal there was waffles with ice cream and cloudberries; the berries taste of musky soft apple flesh and were scooped from a big plastic ice-cream tub full of them and their syrup. Our eyes were as wide as dinner plates as our host ladled them on to our waffles. I know they're rare, but clearly not way up high in northern Norway. Even the sweet and simple strawberry – a berry of childhood as it has none of the tartness we come to like when we're older – weaves a kind of magic. In Iceland, where they're grown in geothermally powered greenhouses, you would think that they had special powers. In Scandinavia strawberries are associated with Frigg, the Norse goddess of marriage, who was so possessive that she wanted them all to herself. The Vikings are said to have believed that when a child dies it ascends to heaven as a strawberry. The seeds symbolised the souls of babies. That's not such a sweet idea but it chimes with Goethe's belief that only children and birds knew how strawberries should taste. I find the best in all of them. Strawberries are innocent, I get the tartest cultivated blueberries I can find, cook with wild blackberries when they're in season and love the raspberry most of all – well, apart from the Arctic raspberry, which is known as the 'prince of berries' in Russia. That one's still on my list of 'berries to eat'.
