Come Here To Me
Part of me feels reluctant to share these secrets with you, part of me wants to shout them from the rooftop. I’ll let others decide if I’ve made the right call.
The Isle of Lismore rises from the waters of Loch Linnhe and is nestled between the mainland area of Port Appin, Argyllshire and the Morvern peninsula. If you catch the passenger-only ferry from Port Appin, you’re just a short ride away from a slice of the Goddess’s own country. Lush green pasture covers ancient limestone, drystone dykes mark the all-important croft boundaries, and the butterflies dance from one wildflower to the next.
There’s the charm of the Bothy or a walk around the Sailean loop, a visit to the delightful Heritage Centre or the Church, or perhaps for the bold, a dip in one of its fine clear-watered lochs.
But to extoll the virtues of this beautiful island in all its glory, it is the people you must meet while you are there – the islanders, native or not, the holiday makers, the walkers, or those who, like me, are making their annual pilgrimage to Mairi Campbell’s Fiddle Retreat. A real (re)treat indeed. A skillfully blended mix of traditional music meets all-level players from across the world, from the United States, Belgium and Ireland.
Carefully curated by Mairi, with dollops of space and time to explore the island and relax, and to enjoy delicious healthy meals prepared with love and local ingredients.
A true Mother-Earth-meets-musical-experience made unforgettable not only for its location and the easy teaching style of our host, but so too for the connections made with the most delightful group of women I may now call upon as travelling musical sisters. Each one, her own woman with a rich history of music making, sharing, and nurturing their own talents and others.
Under conventional wisdom, taking a group of mixed ability, mixed age players onto retreat could have been a recipe for frayed nerves and fallouts, but owing to the mastery of our time-served facilitator, and the generosity of spirit of all the women in the room, slowly, we all let go of the inhibitions that held back our playing, and embraced new techniques in improvisation, ornamentation, or simply messed around with chords and harmonies.
There was no pressing need to commit the tune to memory, or give a performance, just a commitment to learning a little more than when we first walked through the door on Thursday evening. So, yes, we were on a fiddle retreat, but it gave us so much more than a musical experience. We sang, and laughed, and shared, and retreated to silence when that too was needed, each finding our edges in a group of strangers, then letting them dissolve a little more as we became firm friends for a few days, and more.
No event would be complete without a little nod to the Goddess in us all, and my new pals were up for strengthening our bonds as women through a red tent, but you all know by now, that these are sacred secrets I’ll never divulge, for if I told you those, well, I tell you what…
And so, I find myself reflecting on this beautiful, soulful experience in a Fort William café, before returning to the hubbub of daily life. A little more peaceful, a lot less distracted, and whole lot more grateful for the wonderful women who made it all possible. Mairi, Siobhan, Anne, Marguerite, Shirley, Mary, Susan, you made my weekend, thank you for sharing yourselves, your wisdom and your music.
Ssshh, though, it’s a secret.
To book for next year, click here
