So proud

 Just a quick note to say how good it's been to hear from various friends about the pride events that took place this past weekend. 

Grace went to London Trans Pride in Regent Street, Piccadilly and Park Lane and it seems to have been a well-attended event. I notice blogger Claire did too and has a lot of photos: Trans Pride London.

Tania went to Nottingham Pride where, among other things, they boast the world's largest trans flag. So did Lynn who has an enthusiastic post about it: Notts Pride 2024. Glad it went well and, again, was well-attended.

Violetta went to Pride in Innsbruck, Austria, and she's just posted about it (in German but there is a translation button to the right of her blog if you'd like it in English or, indeed, Uzbek if that's your tongue): Innsbruck Pride.

Since moving to Italy I've been getting to know the trans groups Arcigay and Crossdresser Italia and there was a good turnout at Pride in Reggio Calabria, right at the very opposite and of the peninsula to me, which has always been said to have the most beautiful promenade in the entire country, looking across the strait to Sicily and Mount Etna in eruption. It's even prettier with a lot of pride colours, I think. One video of the event: 

 

All very uplifting. One day, these events won't have to be a protest, just a general celebration of diversity that everyone feels they belong to. (Hey, you can't help being cis! You were likely born that way.)

Sue x

The good stuff

 For all the noisy transphobia in the more macho yet minority sections of society these days, be it populist politicians, extremist media, radical feminists or kids' fantasy writers, I still perceive increasing understanding and tolerance of trans people in more normal, less deranged groups in society. We trans people worry about the haters but I'd like to note here the positive stuff I've read about just this week alone.

Such as the feature length article in my regular science monthly that has an unbiased explanation of our current understanding of the neurobiology of gender identity. Trans people are not mentally ill and being trans is a real and naturally occurring condition for a portion of the population, and always has been in every age and culture. How might this be brought about by biology, by environment, by conditioning, the article asks? The science is in its early days, but biology not social conditioning is the main player and the article debunks fears of detransition or of teen transgenderism as one form of teen rebellion. And this all being the case, how come trans people are still subject to discrimination? The well-balanced article is by Massimo Sandal, a molecular and computational biologist who is cisgender. There is no English translation to link to and I can't put one up myself for copyright reasons but I mention it as I feel his audience will appreciate the properly scientific approach to the subject.

Or Mexico City's new law against "transfemicide" that aims specifically to tackle the killing of trans people, almost always trans women. A much needed step to reduce violent hate crime.

France 24 article

Guardian UK article

My monthly Italian tourism magazine is recommending a drag queen version of Anton Chekhov's play The Cherry Orchard. Chekhov is a great playwright and, well, drag queens like to perform, so it could be a version made in heaven!

 

I also notice a new book, Altricorpi ("Other bodies") by Paolo Armelli, published by Blackie, about finding love in the queer community in an age when love and its pursuit is both changing and flexible. And not just romantic love but acceptance. It looks like a vast range of contemporary experience is covered, whilst referencing past lives, such as that of Julius Caesar, "the world's most famous bisexual". Well, I did know Caesar had certain bedfellows who were politically useful, although I suspect he'll always be better known for clobbering Gauls and invading Britain. But anyway.

 

The review of this I have been reading is in the Sunday supplement to my regular newspaper, which has always treated LGBT themes as a normal part of human life.

A bit of positivity helps us along.

Have a good weekend.

Sue x

Movements: Scotland, conclusion

This is one of my best "out and about" posts ever, in such beautiful and unusual places. 

It had been nearly six years since I was last out and about presenting as fully female. There are lots of reasons for that and I won't go over them again but suffice to say it's been an unsatisfactory situation. My previous post described my trip to Scotland up to the point I flipped and realised that I was sick of being merely a vaguely androgynous visitor and needed to be my real self again. Maybe staying with another transwoman was part of the catalyst, maybe a sense of greater security, maybe the pink fog just became a pink thunderstorm. Or all three.

I mentioned this trip briefly in May but I'd like to record it in more detail. If nothing else, Easter Ross and Sutherland are not a part of the world many people have been to, or even heard of, yet they are very beautiful and we were blessed with lovely spring weather.

Despite initial nerves, which you can imagine after so long out of the limelight, they gave way to excitement. My makeup and hair were not perfect, but OK. It's not like I was going to be on TV! They say there are four seasons in a day in the Highlands so, although the forecast was good, I chose something reasonably pretty for spring - a short floral dress that I've slimmed enough to get back into - but with sensible ankle boots and my faithful M&S Active leggings, which are not so close-fitting as they used to be. I think I need to buy a couple of sizes smaller now. Besides, you can never have too many leggings, I say. I took a fleece and a coat, which were sometimes necessary later. My outfit worked with the weather and locations. Roz is a less chilly mortal than myself and had a knee-length cotton dress on, but she took her smart pink coat too as a precaution.

We headed north, first to Tain, a small market town on the Dornoch Firth on Scotland's East Coast. The first photo was in the high street and this is my first out-and-about picture since 2018!

 

It's quite a nice little town and the main places to visit are around the local church, dedicated to local saint, Doothac or Doothus (that's Doothus, not Doofus, dear American friends!). 

 

Here's us two ladies on the "Happy to Chat Bench" in the churchyard.

 

 

The rose garden is also pleasant. 

 

The town's also known for the Glenmorangie whisky distillery, and the inevitable golf course.

Back at the car, a woman carrying a small dog buzzed around us. "I've lost my husband," she declared. We weren't at first sure whether to offer her condolences or take her literally and tut at her carelessness. She resolved the situation by stating, "It's OK, I'm not that bothered," as she wandered off. If only they all took it so well! I was simply pleased that someone interacted with us like any other women.

Onwards and northwards, across the Dornoch Firth ...

... to Dornoch itself, a delightful town with a historic courthouse, Scotland's smallest cathedral and a bishop's castle.

I particularly liked the green Victorian fountain outside the cathedral, with its hidden crocodiles.

The castle is now a hotel which has a lovely beer garden where we had a little bite to eat in the sunshine.

Miss Cheeky Chips

The shady back part of the castle garden was especially pretty.

 

And then there's the town's Historylinks Museum which packs a huge amount in a tiny space. My favourite bit was the diorama depicting local hero, the Earl of Sutherland, clobbering his Danish antagonist with the leg of a horse! They don't make heroes like that nowadays, that's for sure! Perhaps it's just as well that men are a little less wild today. What the horse thought of this is not recorded.

Food at the castle had been light so at this point I opted to visit local chocolatiers Cocoa Mountain where I indulged in an incredibly sticky croissant and a cup of thick hot chocolate so large and so drizzled with chocolate of all kinds that I have honestly never quite seen its like before. I should have taken a photo as this from their site doesn't do it justice. 

 

Gender sensible toilets and friendly staff, too. Recommended.

We also went down to the shore where there is a windy golf course and, in a private garden, a stone testifying to the execution of the last person tried for witchcraft in Great Britain. A woman, of course. It's almost always women who are accused of being witches. One Janet Horne, whose daughter suffered from a deformation of hands and feet so that locals accused her mother of having made them that way so she could ride her daughter like a horse at night. How much more enlightened we are now, with just flat earthers and shape-shifting alien lizards for rulers. Mind you, there are all those weird trans people about. Solidarity, sister.

North of Dornoch is Loch Fleet, a small sea loch. But I wanted to stop here as the inspiring Miss Twist had taken a particularly nice photo at this spot.

Then the sun came out properly so the coat came off!

Northwards still to Dunrobin Castle. I wondered if it's pronounced Dunroabin, like Dunroamin, in that the Earl of Sutherland who built it hung up his ermine robe once and for all; but Roz thinks it's pronounced Dunrobbin, which suggests the earl stopped stealing. One of his ancestors certainly purloined horse's legs, so who knows? (NB clan fans: this is all in the pursuit of humour; the honesty of the earls of Sutherland is not impugned.)

Partly unrobed

 

It was almost closing time for the castle itself so we wandered in the leafy park instead.

There were cannons to play with, too.

And on we drove through the old county of Sutherland with its rolling landscape of sheep and buzzards. We passed through Lairg, "crossroads of the North" with its railways station that's almost like an open-air railway museum. The village is also apparently the centre of one of the larges meteorite impact sites on earth. Striking!

We stopped to look across the river at Carbisdale Castle, now owned by trans woman Samantha Kane, Lady Carbisdale, the sort of trans person the British gutter press love to vilify for having dared not only to transition but to detransition and retransition. She owns a castle and a title, so I don't think she's done too badly. The British press really stinks.

And then we drove on to Bonar Bridge, which interested me because of the battles near there in 1650 and 1746, in the Civil War and the Forty-Five Uprising.

And from there to the wonderful views from Struie Hill across the Dornoch Firth. The wind was strong but the spring sunshine really illuminated the landscape.

A view inland

A view seawards, sitting pretty on a wall

Just as well it's a well-worn wig!

The Dornoch Firth and the North Sea beyond

What a wonderful day. And feeling my fem self properly again after all these years.

Many thanks again to my wonderful friend Roz for her hospitality, and to Miss Twist for her pictorial suggestions. For comparison, you can follow the latter's trips, including some of the places I visited, such as Loch Fleet and Loch Ness here, and Eilean Donan Castle here.

The next day I had to go back to the badlands of England so this was my last day in Scotland this time, and it was the best.

Sue x

Movements: Scotland, part 1

 The highlight of my trip to Britain in May was a week in Scotland where I managed to get out in full female mode for the first time in years. 

I have to thank that witty and informative blogger, Miss Twist, for her inspiration on places to go. If you've not looked at Miss Twist Speaks Her Brains before, I can recommend it for its cosplay antics, psychological insights and girly stances in various beautiful Scottish locations. She made this excellent map with links to her posts describing the various places she's been to and I found it handy for planning my trip. So many thanks to her.

Twistlike pose at Loch Fleet!

 

1: Edinburgh

But let's begin at the beginning with 24 hours in Edinburgh. I was in Edinburgh five years ago and this time I stayed in the 18th-century New Town but spent much of my time in the Old Town, which I haven't visited in thirty years. It's that old that nothing much changes, not even the tourist tat in the shops in the Royal Mile! But it was interesting wandering round again after so long.

 

I had a curious breakfast the next day, which included Smarties! That's definitely a first.

I also went to the Royal Scottish Academy to see the annual exhibition, some of which was appealing, some not. That's contemporary art, I guess.

And then I took the train through leafy Perthshire and the Cairgorms to Inverness where I was met by Roz who had picked up the car we had hired for our four-day weekend in the Highlands. 

At her home, Roz's adorable yet bonkers beaver in denim jacket, kilt and necklace was there to greet me, with a glass of Roz's home-brewed beer (very good it was, too).

 

2: A monster tour of Loch Ness and beyond

I insisted I wanted above all to go to Loch Ness, which I have never been to before. Monster sightings a bonus, but not essential. It's a lovely spot, about as big as Lake Iseo here in Italy, but wilder with few settlements. This is my best picture of Loch Ness, at the SW end near Fort Augustus. I love the way it looks a bit like a watercolour painting. It was actually taken from the car zooming along!

 

Although we did an entire circuit of the lake that day, we turned off in several places, heading up Glen Shiel and stopping in the dramatic gorge that marks the 1719 battlefield during the Jacobite Rebellions, which was all part of my school A-level history syllabus a very long time ago. Well, not so long after the event, in fact!

Click to enlarge

The Jacobite Uprisings will feature again in this post.

Glen Shiel took us all the way to the west coast at the Kyle of Lochalsh ...

...with its mountain goats ...

...until we got to the famously picturesque Eilean Donan Castle, star of 101 films.

Went went as far as the bridge that now connects the Isle of Skye to the mainland. Our way back brought us to the lumpy landscape of Glen Garry ...

... and the rather nice spot that is the Bridge of Oich on the Caledonian Canal and River Oich.

We took the rougher road that passes south-east of Loch Ness and enjoyed the wide panorama at Suidhe, with its landscape dotted with stone age settlements and its views of lesser lochs, Loch Knockie and Loch Mhor.

The Falls of Foyers, that impressed so many writers of the romantic era, were a little disappointing, but maybe it's not the best time of year. How Roz negotiated the steep climb down in high-heeled sandals, I don't know. But trans women are superwomen!

 

Boleskine House is near here, home of mystic Aleister Crowley among others, but is currently closed for repairs. It is, apparently, an unusual place ... as you would expect!

We can't leave this tour of Loch Ness without a picture of the monster, can we?

Well, I guess a sculpture on a roundabout in Inverness will have to do as the real monster didn't show up!

We did a lot of miles that day, I've no idea how many. But what a  fantastic trip, and in perfect spring weather, too.

 

3: Cromarty

I also wanted to see Cromarty at the tip of the Black Isle. It's a nice example of a Georgian town; was once the county town of the oddest, most scattered county in the British Isles, Cromartyshire; and was the birthplace of Thomas Urquhart, a hero to linguists such as myself. It's a lovely town, with a very arty feel to it: the arthouse cinema, craft shops and exhibitions, the slaughterhouse repurposed as a coffee shop!...

Despite the offputting name, they do good coffee, and have a cosy fireplace.

The Cromarty Firth is where oil rigs go to die. Here's an atmospheric shot.

The town has reinvented itself as a cultural centre following much emigration. The poignant monument to that emigration stands on the shore looking towards the opening of the Cromarty Firth to the sea and the world beyond. 

It was at the Old Courthouse Museum that I enquired more closely about Sir Thomas Urquhart and the custodian went to the library cupboard and brought out copies of just about every book written about him and most of his works. I was stunned, so I took a few notes and will go back one day and look at them properly. Many thanks to the helpful and kind member of staff who showed me the stuff that's not normally on display.

Next door is Hugh Miller's Cottage, with it's pleasant garden, which in turn has a fairy garden!

I insisted we also go and see the so-called pirates' graveyard. So-called not because any known pirates were buried there but because the 17th and 18th-century tombs have a recurring skull and crossbones motif. Here are just a few of the fancier ones.

There's also an unusual and creepy crypt buried right under the turf.

 

 

Thankfully, they've put a grille over the open hole that lets a bit of light in. They wouldn't want someone falling in to their own death ... or would they?

Jinkies, Scoob! Sure is creepy! As is the tunnel that was used by servants to get to Cromarty House. You wouldn't want the staff using the main gate along with the Quality now, would you?

Anyway, I thought Cromarty was a fascinating and charming town. The Black Isle peninsula in which it is located is a pleasant farming landscape, and which we drove around to Rosemarkie with its views up and down the Moray Firth and across to Fort George, another testament to the Jacobite Uprisings.

Moray Firth and Black Isle

Vast Fort George, built at great expense between 1748 and 1769, on the opposite shore of the Moray Firth

 

We didn't have time to go to Fort George but did enjoy a little time in Fortrose with its ruined cathedral.

That was a very interesting day in lovely, lesser-known places. We finished up at the award-winning Fyrish Tandoor in Alness. Indian restaurants are almost unknown in Italy so I make the most of the opportunities when I'm in Britain. My sizzling lamb shashlik was very good, I have to say. 

4: Culloden

I end this part of the trip with our day at Culloden Battlefield where the Jacobites met their final end after 60 years of sporadic civil war. It's complex history and if you really want to delve into it, here's the Wikipedia entry on Jacobitism, or you could go to the outstanding visitor centre on Drummossie Moor east of Inverness, as we did.

Roz knows one of the guides, Iona, and we booked her tour of the battlefield. The National Trust for Scotland owns about half the battlefield and has marked the opposing lines carefully with flags and information boards, and they are allowing the ground to revert from farmland back to bog, which was instrumental in the failure of the Jacobite charge on that fateful day in 1746.

The opposing lines at the start of the battle are clearly marked with paths and red flags for the government forces ...

... and blue flags for the Jacobite forces ...

As museum battlefields go, this is very well marked out and anyone can follow the action, and the aftermath.

I recommend it as a place to visit. The attached museum with documents and artifacts is very good, the café is nice and there is a huge car park. Iona, our guide, was super well-infomed, too.

Get this lady to guide you if you can.

I guess I've always had Jacobite sympathies. I'm not so convinced by all these Germans who've been on the British throne for 300 years. Or did the trouble start with the Normans? Or maybe the Danes? Mind you, the Romans really carved things up... Still, we visit historic sites so that we can see ...how the world constantly fails to learn the lessons of history. 

So Loch Ness, Cromarty and Culloden were three things to tick off my bucket list. Rather than extending this post with my final full day with Roz, I'll use the next post to describe in more detail the trip to the far north that I took fully en femme, my first Sue outing in six years.

Thanks for reading.

Sue x