En lisant, en écrivant, en voyageant...

                I feel the impression that Sinclair Girnigoe is like a kind of a rocky Bible because one needs a all life time to understand and deepen its true nature. I never stop thinking of “my castle” when I am in France. My work in writing has given me the chance to revisite the “old story” and to imagine a fiction located in Caithness. I

                In 2006, one of my books called “the Ceilidh” has been published and it is at the same time a fiction and a play about Girnigoe. It has been performed by young actors in the high school where I was working as a teacher in Britanny. Informations and videos are available on the following web site : http://www.atelier-expression-artistique.com (have a look for example at this video : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-pUthnNE3yc&feature=player_embedded#at=44

               And now, my next novel called “From Nantes to La Rochelle on the fairy flag” (to be published soon) is still mentioning the castle and its people...  A good way to show that Sinclair Girnigoe castle story, whether in my numerous trips up to Caithness, whether in my imagination, is never ended !  

              Now, Girnigoe is called “Sinclair Girnigoe” and there is a good path to reach the place. You can even get informations and illustrations. Civilisation seems to have come to the old and wild area and to understand how much beauty and deepness there is inside.

             At Easter 2005, considering that I had proved enough my passion for Caithness and the all Sinclair area, I asked the Sinclair clan to become a member and to wear the tartan in Halkirk games on summer 2008.

            That was a great distinction and I got the chance to get in touch with Ian Sinclair who is now a friend : his wide culture concerning history and various holy places in Britain, his detailed memory of the all castle have been most precious to me. As he told me, and I do believe that, many things are still to come about the knowledge of the castle, while diggings are going on in the main area.

              There was never anybody in the area by that time, reaching the castle being a muddy and wild adventure ! I spent long hours there, watching the cliffs, the sea, the majestic ruins, going around the rocks, the walls, the dungeon, desperately looking for a ghost. There was a rope and it was possible to climb up, to check up  just in case !  By that time, I had pretended to my friends I was a “ghost hunter”! I wanted to know everything about the story of John Sinclair “starved to death” in the dungeon.

               I got into contact with a farmer called Miller (from old Stirkoke I think) who nicely told me about the story. I started to organize “tours” around the castle with my few visitors. We even camped there with my young brother who also grew fascinated by the all area.

               Then my wife and then my children who, once again this summer, have been very keen on the castle.  Girnigoe is really “the family legend” and an entranced parcel of my memory.

         Mille excuses à mes lecteurs et lectrices qui ne maîtrisent pas l’anglais, mais je vais publier dans les jours à venir l’article que le responsable de la revue Sinclair m’a demandé d’écrire en hommage au clan Sinclair et à son château (auquel est consacré mon livre « le Ceilidh »). J’y explique à quel point le Caithness a joué un rôle important depuis 1979, date de ma première « intrusion » dans cette région si éloignée du Royaume Uni...

   Wandering about Sinclair Girnigoe since the time I was the local “French assistant”

The first time I came to Caithness was in 1979… I was camping around all over Britain with some friends. We had a special ticket on the train and we could travel wherever we wanted. South, north, east, west. I don’t know why, but, from the first glimpse, I felt attracted by that territory that the station in Dingwall called “the far north”.

         We arrived in Thurso on a wet day and I remember there was a highland gathering or something going on. Not very comfortable yet, and we faced very bad conditions for the tents, the walks, the cooking etc, so that my friends felt quickly “fed up” with that “poor and bliek country”…  I didn’t feel the same way, and, as we were all “struggling” on the path near the old castle, instead of complaining like the others against the wet wind, and the screaming hitchkock seagulls, I was thinking that I had to come back on my own another time…

And I came back indeed… It was in September 1983. I had asked to be employed in Caithness as a French assistant (Wick and Thurso High schools). Then, during all one year, from September to july, Caithness was for me ! I was staying in Wick, Glamis Road, and somebody kindly gave me his gran’ mother’s old bike. Then started  my love affair with seals in Staxigoe, gulls in Noss Head and ruins at Dirlot, Keiss, Ackergill, Old Wick, Bucholie and specially Girnigoe.

              Voici donc avec un léger différé le « résultat » de l’exercice auquel Anne-Marie a bien voulu se livrer, offrant un exemple de réponse réussie !

Point de départ : Quand la femme de chambre entra dans la chambre de l’hôtel pour refaire le lit, le client caché dans la salle de bain lui bondit dessus.

Style familier : quand la boniche se pointa dans la piaule pour refaire le page, le mec déboula de la salle de bain et lui tomba dessus.

Style métaphorique : sous un franc soleil matutinal, la splendide créature ancillaire, telle Vénus sortant de l’écume, glissa jusqu’au temple du sommeil dans le but de redéployer les tentures. A ce moment précis, étreint d’un désir sauvage d’enlacer une femelle, le fauve tapi dans l’espace sanitaire qui la guettait depuis la fin de la nuit, fondit sur sa proie à la vitesse de l’éclair.