A Day Among Giants: The Mystical Callanish Stones

You know, sometimes you plan a trip to a place you've seen in a book or on an album cover, and you just hope it lives up to the image in your head. For me, that place has always been the Callanish Standing Stones on the Isle of Lewis. Even though I did manage to get to see them some 40 years ago, being a fan of Ultravox's "Lament" album for years – and that iconic imagery – finally getting back to see them was a bit of a pilgrimage.

Ebony and I managed to carve out some time recently to make the journey, and while the weather on Lewis can be…...shall we say, characterful, it really just added to the atmosphere. It was one of those cold, blustery days, but the skies were an absolutely magnificent canvas of white, fluffy clouds, constantly shifting to let the sun break through in dramatic rays. It gave the whole landscape this incredible, almost theatrical lighting.

We spent a good while just wandering around the main stone circle, Callanish I. These aren't just any old rocks; these are ancient, imposing sentinels that have stood guard for millennia. It’s thought they were erected around 2900-2600 BC, making them even older than Stonehenge, if you can believe that. Just imagine the effort involved, moving these massive pieces of gneiss, some standing as tall as 16 feet, into position. The sheer scale of it all is, to say the least, humbling.

One of the real highlights of our visit happened around 2pm. As the sun cut through the clouds, we noticed something quite remarkable: the shadows cast by the stones on one of the avenues leading away from the central circle aligned perfectly with the stones themselves. It was a fleeting, almost magical moment, a testament to the astronomical precision the builders possessed. It really makes you wonder about the knowledge and understanding these ancient people had of the cosmos.

There's definitely a palpable energy about the place, a certain mystical quality that's hard to put into words. You can feel the weight of history, the countless generations who have stood on that very spot, perhaps for rituals, ceremonies, or simply to observe the heavens. The central stone circle, with its chambered cairn, suggests it was a place of burial and ritual, connecting the living with their ancestors and the cosmos.

The landscape around Callanish is just as captivating. Rolling moorland, dotted with lochs and a distant glint of the Atlantic, it's a wild and untamed beauty that feels incredibly ancient. The Hebrides, in general, have this wonderful, almost primeval feel to them.

Unfortunately, we didn't have time to visit Callanish II, which is where Ultravox actually filmed the video for "One Small Day." But you know what? That just gives us another reason to go back. Ebony and I have already promised ourselves a return trip next year. There's so much more to explore on Lewis, and honestly, spending more time soaking in the atmosphere of these incredible stones is something I'm very much looking forward to.

If you ever get the chance, I highly recommend a visit. It's more than just a collection of old stones; it's a journey back in time, a connection to something profoundly ancient and enduring. Just be prepared for the wind – and keep an eye out for those shadows!!!

The Great Unwind: one week out and how I'm really "trolling the scroll"......

It's been exactly one week since I made the deliberate, philosophical choice to step away from social media, and I can say this without a shred of doubt:

it’s working.

Honestly, I was prepared for a twitchy, anxious period - that dreaded FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) or the residual pull of checking for a meaningless 'like.' Instead, what I’ve found is a massive, blessed wave of mental silence. My head, which felt like a browser with fifty-seven tabs perpetually open, is finally starting to clear.

The creative energy I’d let gather dust over the last few months? Oh boy, it's back, big time!!!

The Power of the Pocket Notebook

One of the most effective strategies I’ve discovered for actively "trolling the scroll" is going completely analogue. I’ve started carrying a small notebook everywhere I go. It's paired with a proper pen - a nice, inexpensive Parker (because some simple pleasures simply never fade) - and a surprising addition: a Helix Oxford Maths Set, just like the one I had at school.

Yep, the 60-year-old me is now the proud owner of a compass, a protractor, and a 15cm ruler, all in a little tine. And no, I will not be using the included timetable on the back (unless "Go for a walk" is a required subject).

The psychological impact of this tiny analogue kit is huge. When I feel that old, twitchy impulse to pull out my phone and open a void, I pull out my notebook instead. I use the tools to:

• Air Out the Noise: Write down those innermost thoughts and feelings that used to just bounce around the cluttered space in my mind.

• Plan the Focus: Sketch out diagrams, underline headings with a ruler, or use a set square to create sharp, focused project layouts.

• Capture the Spark: Log ideas for the three blogs, the e-zine, or the YouTube channel before they vanish into the digital ether.

It’s an active, tangible substitution for a passive, digital habit. My focus on my projects is growing daily, fueled by these small, contained moments of analogue thought.

The Ultimate Detox: The Scottish Silence

To celebrate this shift, I took a brilliant trip with Ebony to the Outer Hebrides and the North West of Scotland. Talk about a complete mental scrub! We drove the single-track roads right through the stunning centre of North Scotland, intentionally avoiding the frantic bustle of the Eastern NC500 route.

Driving through that kind of wild, unspoiled silence is the perfect, physical representation of what I want my mental landscape to be: vast, beautiful, and completely free of notification pings.

The lack of phone signal in those remote parts? That wasn't a problem; it was a luxury. There was no pull, no obligation, no sense of FOFM (Fear Of Missing Me).

The Clarity of Now

One week in, the relief is palpable. I'm no longer worried about how many likes or comments a post gets. That metric of external validation feels utterly meaningless now. The only validation that counts is internal: the satisfaction of a notebook filled with genuine thought, a project plan coming to life, or the simple joy of a ferry ride across a Scottish sea.

It turns out that the "real life" I was being promised through a screen was waiting for me all along, right here, waiting to be done and experienced. If you’re considering making the jump, I can only tell you this: the psychological payoff is immediate and profound.

Here’s to many more weeks of analogue planning, focused creativity, and zero scrolling.

Cheers!!!