Description: Journalist & Editor
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The fog rolls over the fjord, obscuring the island across the water. The air fills with a light moisture that clings to grass, clothes, skin, hair. The sheep dart around, their wool gathering barely visible droplets as they dodge Brim, the border collie chasing them around the misty hillside with the tentative authority of a supply teacher. READ MORE
With its wood cladding, timber frame and pastel colour palette, the building in front of me could easily fit into a Nordic coastal town. Reykjavik, perhaps, or Tromso. Copenhagen, maybe, but a century or so ago. Yet there’s something about it that doesn’t quite fit – something I can’t quite put my finger on. Oh, that’s right, it’s the huge American flags fluttering outside, and the awning promising ‘Burgers. Fries. Shakes’. READ MORE
Even before seeing Suilven in real life, I’d have recognised it anywhere. A perfectly rounded mound of a mountain towering incongruously over the wilderness, like a block of flats on a street of terraced houses. READ MORE