February in Scotland

Perhaps not where someone who adores walking barefoot and bronzing in the sun should be this time of year. Truth be told, in the last two years I have found myself in Thailand or Miami in February. But this year, Aberdeen. Up in the frozen North. I remember mum told me before I moved here that Aberdeen is inline with Russia. It is a cheery thought that is hard to forget. But being here has shown me that the Scots are made of stronger stuff, and during the last couple of weeks in between school placements and with a bit more free time, I’ve learned a lot from them and their hardy spirits.

The sea is never far away here. That point was driven home to me when I visited the Maritime Museum, right opposite the harbour. Free to enter, it is crammed full of nautical memorabilia, telling the story of Aberdeen from fishing village to oil city. I wandered from room to room, absorbed by the black and white photos of fisherman and dock workers; grime covered, weather beaten but cheerful. It was interesting to learn how off-shore workers take a course in what to do if their helicopter makes an emergency landing, about the fire that struck an oil rig, about the different types of fish that swim under and ships that sail over the sea here.

So, to the beach. Doesn’t matter that its midwinter. Saturday or Sunday, you will find everyone at the seafront. Families, dog walkers, exercise fanatics. Others who just want to watch the grey waves. Like me. And a few incredibly foolhardy souls who take to the water to surf or swim. I can spend hours listening to the waves, watching them fall, the sky vast and undemanding, the wind whistling through the coarse grass of the dunes. This season may not be beach season, but there is never a bad time to be by the sea.

Sometimes though, the cold gets too much. Which is why I discovered there are plenty of ways to stay warm inside and still do something interesting. I love pottery and discovered Ceramika, a petite studio in the bohemian neighbourhood of Garthdee, where yummy mummies pop in with their cherubic youngsters to get a present for grandpa. But mostly, its just me and the owner, an expert in clay. She taught me how to spin the wheel, which is a bit like learning to drive a car, mastering the use of a pedal whilst coning, flattening and centering the clay (all official terms, by the way). I always end up spending hours there, bent over my creation, weak winter sunlight filtering through the windows and warming the little room.

The Spectra Light Festival held each February in the city has come about to get everyone out and about (if they weren’t already). It is a cheerful interlude in the cold and dark, literally bringing brightness to a few winter nights. I visited on the Friday night. It was a bitterly cold evening, stars visible high above. My breath made large silvery flumes and I soon couldn’t feel my toes. I followed the crowds through the gardens, which were full of modern art instillations that would light up, glow, change color and generally dazzle you. There were light-up seesaws, kids with neon face-paint running around, the old buildings all illuminated. You could even walk through the cemetery of the large cathedral; a slightly eerie experience, as the headstones glowed green. The trail lead straight through the church. We walked as if in a procession, the inside lit by candles and dancing lights.

The amazing thing here is that no one speaks about the weather. Not like South of the border, where that is a standard conversation starter. As I said, winter or not, everyone makes the best of it. I’m not quite at the stage of diving into the North Sea yet though, at any time of year.

The Maritime Museum is near the harbour and an easy walk from the city center. Ceramika often has workshops and organized activities, or you can just use the studio (call ahead to book). Most events during the Spectra Light Festival are free, next year’s dates are yet to be announced. 

All photos my own and taken on the iPhone 8🙂