-
The Golden Rails to Southmarch
There are faster ways to reach the southern provinces, but none finer than the Golden Rail, that grand artery of steam and polish that carries the Kingdom’s citizens from Inverness to the green hills of Southmarch in just under nine unhurried hours. It departs from Platform Two of the Royal Terminus, a hall of brass columns and clockwork dignity where the scent of coal mingles with perfume and anticipation.Continue Reading
-
A Pilgrimage to Mount Saint Caradoc
The road to Mount Saint Caradoc begins like any other: cobbles, cottages, and the quiet chatter of travellers who still believe they know where they are going. But an hour beyond the last tavern, the landscape changes. The hedgerows fade, the air cools, and the path begins to wind upward through heather and thin mist. By the time one reaches the foothills, the only sound left is one’s own breathing—and the distant toll of a bell that no one can quite locate.Continue Reading
-
Steam and Stone – A Journey to the Iron City of Glaston Quay
There is a moment, somewhere past the fifth tunnel, when the scent of the countryside vanishes. The smoke of the train thickens, the sky turns the colour of tin, and the windows begin to rattle not from speed but from vibration. That is the moment one knows they have entered Glaston Quay—the Iron City, the beating anvil of the Kingdom of Eyehasseen.Continue Reading
-
The Lantern Isles – Where the Sea Sings at Night
There are few places left in the Kingdom where the sea still feels like a secret. The Lantern Isles, scattered like pearls off the southern coast, are among them. No rail line reaches their shores, no great ferry makes the crossing. To go there one must take the small mail boat from Westreach, and even that ventures out only when the weather and the tides are in rare agreement.Continue Reading
-
The Home Front Hardens – Maintaining a Stiff Upper Lip as War Looms
By Staff Correspondent, Inverness Bureau INVERNESS — The bells of the city ring on schedule, the trams keep to their routes, and the shops along Chancellor’s Row still open precisely at the eighth hour. Yet something subtle has shifted in the rhythm of life. It can be heard in theContinue Reading
-
Shadows and Silence: DeChirico at the Royal Museum
DeChirico Exhibition at the Royal Museum of Art – Shadows and Silence, gathers together for the first time in Eyehasseen a dozen of De Chirico’s most iconic canvases: Continue Reading
-
Clockmakers of Inverness: Keeping Time for a Kingdom
These are the sanctuaries of Eyehasseen’s master clockmakers, artisans whose intricate mechanisms regulate not merely hours but the rhythm of modern life.Continue Reading
-
The Village Where Bells Never Cease
But the bells of Saint Hedwig’s are notorious for ringing at odd hours — a midnight clamour, a sudden peal during supper, or a lingering toll at three in the afternoon without any visible reason.Continue Reading
-
A Garden Shed That Outshines the House
Here in the back garden of Rupert Kettleby, a retired postman with a fondness for begonias, stands perhaps the most extraordinary shed in the Kingdom. The moment the door swings open, one is met with a dazzling sight: polished wood floors, silk draperies, and no fewer than two crystal chandeliers hanging from the rafters.Continue Reading
-
Pickled for Posterity
By Elspeth Morrow, Lifestyle Correspondent TANSYFORD — If you’ve ever tasted the sharp, briny crunch of a pickle at the midsummer fair, chances are it came from the kitchen of Grandmother Hetta Larksby. At eighty-two, Hetta presides over her pantry like a general with her army of jars. The shelvesContinue Reading
-
The Dog Who Runs the Tea Shop
Of course, there are drawbacks. Last year, four separate customers lodged formal complaints after Bramble “nipped” when retrieving a fallen biscuit. This year, however, Florence notes with pride, the tally is down. “Only one incident so far,” she said. “He’s learning to restrain himself.”Continue Reading
-
The Lavender Fields of Stipplemead
“We’ve always thought of lavender as more than a flower,” said Margot, guiding me through the rows with a wicker basket in hand. “It’s medicine, memory, and comfort all wrapped into one.”Continue Reading
