Today Arran disappeared from view (turns out there is such a thing as Scotch Mist after all!), the winds blew and a fine but penetrating rain fell, and it was still lovely to be here – especially since, being on the west coast, it still felt quite mild. The sea was choppier than it’s been all week, but that didn’t stop the ferry from bringing visitors over, and by late afternoon, when there were even fairly sizeable waves to be seen, Lama Yeshe Rinpoche, founder of the Holy Isle Project, himself made the trip over.

It’s been beautifully quiet here over the past couple of days, and Marian and I head off tomorrow morning just before it gets busy again as people flock over for Lama Yeshe’s meditation course. We’ve had great laughs here and, without having to sit down and purposely think about things, it’s also been the perfect place to gather thoughts together and clarify plans about the future.

My gorgeous photographer, known around these parts as Maid Marian, has, amid her daily duties slaving away in the kitchen, found the time and inclination to provide the great photos that have accompanied my daily musings. This morning I borrowed her iPhone in order to turn the tables – or rather the lens – and get at least one pic of her in the blog. So here she is in a particularly glamorous pose in the kitchen, avec pinny and mug :)

On this tiny island there’s not much to do during any spare time other than stroll among the Soay sheep, the wild horses and the Scottish midges or, more adventurously, go ‘over the top’ (avoiding the crevasses along the way, of course – thank god I didn’t even know they existed when we did that walk – sometimes ignorance is indeed bliss). But somehow the days have rushed by and I haven’t felt bored for one second. I did bring some editing work with me,  but I was very disciplined in getting a certain number if pages done every day so that I could spend the maximum possible amount of time here doing those other nebulous things that have left me feeling so glad I came here.

I’ve loved getting to know the people I’ve met during my stay here, whether they’ve been full-time volunteers, guests or course participants. Saying goodbye is all part of the experience here, but there’s always the feeling that paths will cross again as many of those who come here end up coming back repeatedly.

I now possess a singing bowl that creates the most amazing vibrating resonance, though the actual note that it rings with is still a bit of a mystery to me. I can’t seem to match it on my guitar, and I like to think that’s because it’s a mysterious note all of its own. Admittedly I could be getting fanciful here, and it may simply be that my hearing isn’t discerning enough to pick up the exact pitch. We did go through the entire stock of singing bowls, though, until I found this particular one – the only one – that I could make ring. So whether in reality it’s unique or not, it does feel special to me. So there. :)

Here's me looking like the proverbial salty dog seeing two of my ol' mates off the island. It's the jumper that does it really, isn't it? It's attracted much attention here, mainly amongst the chaps, I have to admit, but you have to take compliments where you can get them at my age - and even more impressed they are when I tell them it cost me two pounds at a charity shop in Hebden Bridge - AND it's Timberland!

Anyway, this is Lisa and Eva about to set foot down the jetty and hop onto the Sallyforth - the teeny motorboat that serves as the ferry between the island and Arran - on their respective journeys away from the Holy Isle. I hope very much to hear from both of them again - this is truly a place where friendships are quickly formed with folk from all over the world who turn up at this unique community for all sorts of reasons, and who stay for varying lengths of time, invariably with the intention of returning before too long. I can see how this place gets into your blood very quickly.

With the t'ai chi course having finished yesterday, several of the full-time volunteers took the opportunity to go over to Arran today for a quick fix of things that come to feel like utter luxuries as they're not available on the island - meat, fish, ciggies, alcohol... (not sure if any of them overdid it and paid the price on the slightly choppy boat ride back, mind!). That left a handful of us still here to enjoy the most delicious pizza I've ever had, as well as, for me and Marian and two of the full-timers, Claire and David, a wonderfully convivial chat with Ani Sharab, the Buddhist nun who is in charge of the community on the island. With only two days to go before Marian and I head back to the mainland, this felt like a real privilege, and amongst other things, Ani Sharab told us about the significance of the many strands of beads she wears wrapped around her wrist. They have a similar function to the Catholic rosary beads, being used in chanting to count the number of repetitions. They're also the height of fashion, of course!

Marian and I will be staying in Glasgow for two nights before heading back down south on  Monday, and, never one to waste an opportunity, I will be taking my li'l guitar to a couple of bars there where I've found out they have acoustic sessions. Right now though, as I gaze out across the peaceful stretch of water separating the two islands, with the lights of Lamlash sparkling in the distance, it's hard to imagine coping with the hustle and bustle of city life. But I'm sure we will - just as I'm sure I'll quickly remember how to knock back a gin and tonic or two again without too much problem... ;-)

Lovely gig last night in the aptly named Peace Hall, where I sang several of my songs to a number of the guests and volunteers at the Centre for World Peace and Health on the beautiful Holy Isle. I played right after the last session of the t'ai chi course that's been held there for the past few days, and not only were the acoustics fantastic in the hall, but there was a lovely aura of tranquillity that seemed to have carried over. The audience were all any songwriter could hope for - attentive, appreciative and positive. I included my environmental song 'It's A Message' in the set as it felt appropriate for this setting, and the drumming on the back of my little guitar sounded amazingly resonant in the roomy hall with its high ceiling. One of the participants on the t'ai chi course was singer-songwriter Sam Semple, who finished off the evening with two of his songs - I felt very glad that we got to know each other a bit as a result, and we chatted afterwards about songwriting, Nashville, and all points in between, in the unusual and surreal setting of the dark and slightly slippery boat jetty, where a number of us intrepid souls had gone later in the evening to watch the incredible phosphorescent display of the submarine life.

The fact that both Marian and I finished off this evening with a cup of peppermint tea in preference to the builder's tea that we so resolutely demanded when we first got here is surely of some significance...

And so to bed... xxx

Today I’m happy to say I finally lifted a finger to do a bit more in this wonderful community than softly strum my li’l guitar, and helped heft supplies from the boat to the storeroom in a wheelbarrow. As these pictures deftly illustrate, I did initially somewhat overestimate my strength and the ability of the rather puny wheelbarrow to cope with two sackloads of some hefty grain or other, and ended up rather wimpily transporting two bulk packages of loo paper instead. However, in my defence I should add that I did need to preserve myself for my concert tonight in the Peace Hall. The building has fabulous acoustics, and I’m rather looking forward to singing in it…

More tomorrow as it kicks off in seventeen minutes… xxx

I went for a stroll along the beach yesterday morning with my li’l guitar, looking for a suitable spot to sit and play a while. On the way I came across numerous stranded jellyfish, some of them huge, and a bunch of the ancient breed of dark brown sheep that have grazed here undisturbed for so long. I was looking for the perfect rock to park my backside on and found one that looked a bit like the sort of chaise longue the Flintstones might have had, but it was still wet from the not-long-receded tide. Next to it, however, was the one pictured here (photographed by Marian when we revisited it later, sans guitar, hence the air-guitar pose below) with an indent perfectly shaped for me to sit comfortably whilst gazing out to Arran across the water and strumming in a soft-focus kind of way. My state of bliss didn’t last long, however, as I rapidly realised I’d come out without the requisite coating of Smidge Scottish midge repellent, and I was soon scratching and swiping my face and arms in a way that wasn’t conducive to playing the gentle Welsh lullaby I’d gone there to practise. Maybe the Scottish midges were waging such an unrelenting war on me because they’d recognised its lack of Scottishness? I don’t know, but whatever the case, I was soon back at base and spraying on liberal amounts of Smidge.

It turned out to be a really beautiful day that felt like being in the Mediterranean. There’s much conversing goes on round here with the interesting folk who end up at this community for one reason or another, and although I’d set myself to do some editing in the afternoon - :( - I ended up doing more chatting and getting rather ruddy faced in the full sun. Ah well, there’s always today to do the work. During such a chat over lunch, the Brazilian Buddhist nun who is in charge of the retreat came out onto the patio area and announced that she had some news about the cricket. I naturally assumed this was some Buddhist ceremony that I hadn’t heard of and prepared myself to be enlightened. However, it turns out that she was in fact referring to the latest Ashes score, and is besotted with the sport. And today, naturally for a Brazilian, she is going round with a certain glow reflecting England’s win.

Two of the volunteers are leaving today and asked me to play at their leaving do in the boathouse yesterday evening, so that’s what I did at 9 pm. It was a lovely cosy evening, full of good humour and affection, and a really fabulous bunch of people to play to. The only downside about places like this run by volunteers is that it’s always a random gathering of like-minded people who become friends in a short space of time and then before too long are scattered once again as they go back to their homes, probably never again to come together – but of course with happy memories of an unforgettable place and time together.

Today the midges are out in force – they’re even in the dining room. So we’re preparing to slather ourselves with Smidge and walk back to the red rock with the li’l guitar for another morning in paradise…

This is me at the top of Mullach Mor, the mountain that dominates the Holy Isle, that Marian and I decided to tackle yesterday afternoon, in a four-hour walk/scramble/totter on increasingly wobbly legs. Here they call it going 'over the top', and for me it felt like pushing myself beyond all sorts of mental and physical limits, involving Marian coaxing me along very narrow and steep paths rather too close to what to me looked like sheer drops to the sea far below, to emerge on the gentle grassy path at the other end feeling quite proud of myself, not to mention fearless. Which made it feel very appropriate then to come across the shrine the Green Tara, the goddess of fearlessness. To round it all off, this morning we went along to the (rather early) morning ceremony dedicated to Green Tara, involving an hour's worth of very hypnotic musical and engrossing chanting,with  bells, cymbals, and a large and beautifully resonant gong. One small step for womankind, but a giant leap for Mandy!

The remaining four stages of the journey to Holy Isle were very much more relaxing and scream-free, and I arrived on the Holy Isle ferry - a tiny little boat with an outboard motor - at around 11.15 yesterday morning, to be greeted by a small but perfectly formed welcoming party - Marian and the serene (not that Marian wasn't also) Buddhist nun who runs the community here on the island. I did feel somewhat jet-lagged, mainly from the not-to-be-mentioned-further National Express leg of the journey and it took me a little while to get what this wonderful place is about, but a few naps during the day and a good sleep last night have put me right. I would have felt like I'd come without a limb if I hadn't brought a guitar with me, so I've brought my dear little requinto guitar that my friend David made as a prototype for the proper one he's now made for himself and that would have by now been firewood or consigned to his attic had I not rescued it from such a sad end. It's tuned a fifth higher, which means I have to make adjustments like learning to sing a bit higher than normal, but that may not be such a bad thing, and I've been bonding with it for the past few days after writing and recording a new song on it, to the point where I now love the dear little thing. Marian and I were sitting round chatting with a group of volunteers here in the evening and I was persuaded (didn't take much!) to get her out (the little guitar, that is) and play a few songs, so now there's no stopping me and this morning we went to a spot along the shore where we'd been yesterday, a  platform of red rock with little fascinating rock pools and rocks stacked very deliberately in a way that seems to be a characteristic of the community here, where I felt I'd like to just sit and play. So that's what we I did. The sun was out and it felt wonderful to play whilst looking out to the stretch of sea between here and Arran. I'm looking forward to more such opportunities, that come so rarely in the hubbub of 'normal' life, during my week here.

This afternoon we're going 'over the top' - hiking up the mountain/big hill that comprises the main geographic feature of this lovely island. But right now it's lunchtime and I'm feeling healthily starving. So bi for now! ;) xxx

I'm sitting in the Caffe Nero opposite Glasgow Central Station after a night on a National Express coach from Oxford, that involved a 90-minute stopover at Milton Keynes Coachway where you have to pay 30p to use to loo and where two overly boisterous (or girlsterous, as an ironically feminist friend used to say in the 80s) young lassies (when in Glasgow, etc...) caused a number of us stalwart but irritable middle-aged English people to look at then in a stern but silent way. They were admittedly very young - four if they were a day - but at that time of night none of us were inclined to be soft-hearted. When I realised they were getting on the same bus as me, to Glasgow, I could foresee what kind of a journey lay ahead and made sure I was sitting nowhere near them - or their overly chatty mothers either, actually... Sure enough, at intervals through the l-o-o-ong night, one or other or both of them would suddenly emit an ear-piercing shriek and then continue to scream in a very affected, I thought, high-pitched way that succeeded in jolting us all out of our uncomfortable dozes but didn't seem very heartfelt. No, motherhood was never for me...

Anyway, must dash now for the next leg of my 5-stage journey to a wee island t'other side of Arran. Arrrrdrossan Harrrrbour is where my train will hopefully put me, and from there it's the ferry to Arran.

More later xxx

It was certainly a record for me - a song that hadn't existed even in my head at lunchtime on Monday had been written and performed by the end of that evening! Naturally it's been fiddled with a good deal since then, as is my wont - and as should be the wont of any serious songwriter - but it was satisfying and a useful exercise to get something out there so speedily. The reactions of the discerning listeners at the Old Anchor session in Abingdon at such an early stage in the song's life were also very helpful in terms of the subsequent revisions I've made to it. And now, at 2 o'clock on Wednesday morning, I can say - though not with 100% certainty, admittedly - that I've just put the finishing touches to it and will have a go at recording it later today. I'm playing at the open mic at Joules Yard in Market Harborough on Thursday, so maybe I'll give the (possibly) finished number another airing then. Or maybe I won't ... Who knows? Depends on how intrepid I'm feeling and how friendly the crowd seems...

Speaking of Joules Yard, I'm playing a 40-minute set there on 4 October, at one of Bob Renwick's Friday evening 'Early Doors' sessions from 6 to 8 pm.

And the Hillingdon fundraiser for the Women's Centre that I mentioned previously will be at Brunel University on Saturday 28 September, with me and Lara A King doing a song swap evening, singing everything from comic to serious songs, with a few parodies thrown in for good measure! More details to follow...

And so to bed. After one more play of the new song, that is...

OK, it's been a while, I admit, but getting back to normal after three nights under canvas when I'd sworn I'd never do such a thing ever again has taken some doing. I know I'm supposed to be some sort of cowgirl rancher chick, and you might think that as such I'd be up for kipping under the stars at the drop of my very expensive leather hat, but I invented this particular variety of cowgirl, and so I can say with some authority that British cowgirl rancher chicks don't do tents. Full stop. Period. Yeehah.

Anyway, forgetting the tent business and the strange weather and the fact that for a while we (M and I, that is) thought we had no means of boiling water and therefore no means of making tea, the festival was a great success from the performance side of things. Randy Moods went down a storm, new friends were made (including two lovely women who provided us with cups of tea at the time we thought we had no means of making our own, and who thus became known to us as The Tea Ladies, and who then came along to my performance), and CDs were sold. We did, however, pack up and head out on the Sunday evening, when another rain-soaked night under canvas seemed a night too much. Call us wimps if you must - though I prefer 'Ladies Who Like Their Creature Comforts'.

Moving on... yesterday I had occasion to chat to Ian Joules of Joules clothing and Joules Yard, a very funky cafe and live music venue behind the Joules boutique in Market Harborough. We talked of dogs and of music, and I really liked the laid-back, rather American feel of the place, so I shall be taking Joleen (my beloved guitar) along with me to the open mic there a week on Thursday (15 August).

There's another gig in the offing too - a fundraiser for the Hillingdon Women's Centre, somewhere I've driven past soooo many times on my way from London back to Oxford, but only ventured into last month when, following an audition for The Voice (that's a story in itself...), I found myself walking from Hillingdon tube station to the Oxford Tube bus stop. I got chatting to the centre manager, and as a result of that chat we've decided to set up a music night on either 21 or 28 September, with me and one or maybe two other female singer-songwriters. The details have yet to be worked out, but it will definitely be happening - so watch this space!

One other thing - I won something!! The Melange Factor singing competition to be precise. More precise than that I can't be as I don't really know any more than that. But it's nice to have won something - something where people had to vote on videos of our performances posted on You Tube. Winning may change my life... but there again, it may not. To find out if it does, once again, watch this space... ;)