North Sea breeze

A festive catch-up with our Elgin cousins takes us an hour north of Aviemore to the Moray coast. We have a family tradition of meeting and walking along the beach at Lossiemouth, a stunning stretch of sand backed by high dunes. Lossiemouth was once an important fishing town, though now it's better known for its RAF operating base. 

Clan gathering

The weather is always milder here due to the Gulf Stream, and as we step out along the sandy shore the deep snow of Boxing Day feels a world away. 

Enjoying milder weather up north

The beach east of the old harbour is about three miles long and looking out to sea, I realise that the next port of call must be Norway. The only sight to interrupt the view is the odd container ship crossing the horizon.

Next stop Norway

The recent assault of Storm Frank has thrown up all sorts of flotsam, as well as interesting pieces of driftwood. We discover that one creative local has collected a bundle and fashioned into beachfront art. 

Study in flotsam

Mountain high

This year, all the family gathers for Christmas at our place near Aviemore in the Highlands – we make a noisy crowd, crashing around the forest for the family walk on the day. Later there are 18 of us round the table. 

We rise on Boxing Day to sunshine, blue skies, and a liberal dusting of snow over the hills. Craving some high-level adventure, we get the teenagers winter-suited and booted and meet in the car park of the Cairngorm Mountain ski area. This is Scotland's premier ski resort and everyone has been watching the sky for signs of snow. So it's busy. But most of the crowds are heading towards the funicular railway for the journey up to the Ptarmigan cafe at the top. We're walking – well… it's more than a tenner each way! 

Trekking up the poma track

We set off, trudging through deep snow up to the Coire na Ciste ridge. Spindly wooden fences – a Cairngorm trademark – do a great job of stopping the snow and gathering it into powdery drifts.  

Taking a breather

Some skiers pass by on their way down, but we can hear the cracks as their skis hit stones just under the surface. The breeze picks up as we get to the top of the ridge. We make shapes against the low winter sun, buffeted by windblown snow. 

Throwing shapes

Cold and blowy on the ridge

At the top, before we recharge our batteries with hot soup and chips, we take in the view north – all the way to the sea… 

Looking north – a perfect sky

Off the wall in Edinburgh

Edinburgh isn't particularly known for its street art, but its Leith neighbourhood boasts a clutch of outdoor murals. Strung together they make a most rewarding and thought-provoking walk. Three have been around since the 1980s, but because they're tucked away, around unsalubrious corners, I'd never seen them –despite the Michelin-starred restaurants along The Shore, the world of Irvine Welsh's Trainspotting alive and well, just a stone's throw away. 

On a recent visit, I take my own Leith mural tour, starting in Bonnington (formerly Bonny toun) Road with the Swanfield Mill mural (1986), by David Wilkinson, a tall, majestic work that references the old Swanfield Flour Mill, of which only one building survives. 

Swanfield Mill mural

I almost miss the Eduardo Paolozzi mural (2014) by Russell Ian Dempster, a splendid backdrop for anyone waiting at the bus stop on Henderson Street. Pop artist Paolozzi grew up nearby, in a flat above his Italian parents' ice cream and confectionary shop.

Eduardo Paolozzi mural

Another of the original murals was painted alongside the Leith Social Work Department building, now gone. As part of an environmental project in 1984, residents of Links View House were asked to choose the subject matter and Tim Chalk and the Artists' Collective got to work creating a sea view with gulls and a variety of flags. The goalposts were added later, I reckon. 

Links View mural

On to the Leith Dockers Club in Academy Street, where Tom Ewing was commissioned to paint a tribute to Leith and the club. The mural is entitled Sunshine on Leith and depicts Leith Walk, the old docks and other landmarks of the area, including the former seaman's mission, now the Malmaison hotel. It was unveiled by Trainspotting author, Irvine Welsh, in 2014.

Leith Dockers Club mural detail

Round a few more back alleys, I find the Leith Aquatic Mural (2013) by the Blameless Collective at the end of Halmyre Street. This wonderful seascape features elements based on the memories of residents of the Port of Leith Housing Association's Jameson Place. Central to the mural is the Leith-registered steam trawler SS Explorer, and weaving in and out are visual references to fishwives, the Proclaimers' Sunshine on Leith and, of course, Trainspotting. 

Leith Aquatic mural

Leith Aquatic mural, Trainspotting reference

Sunshine and Leith

You catch plenty of glimpses of the Water of Leith while ambling around Edinburgh but not many people realise there's a walkway that follows the river's entire length – 24 miles from its source in the Pentland Hills, through the heart of the capital, to the Firth of Forth at Leith. The river was Edinburgh's industrial heartland, lined with mills harnessing the power of the water to produce paper, fabric and flour, while the river mouth supported a boat and shipbuilding industry. Now it's a ribbon of green meandering across the city.

Urban oasis

With the aim of walking at least half of it one Saturday, some old school friends and I meet at the Water of Leith visitor centre at Slateford. This area was once a busy river crossing and a thriving village grew up around the nearby quarries. An impressive aqueduct and viaduct loom over the path as we set off on our walk, echoes of a 19th century industrial past.

Slateford crossings

Over the next few miles we pass iconic Edinburgh sites, including remnants of the 1908 Scottish National Exhibition, Murrayfield rugby stadium, the cathedral-like towers of Donaldson's School for the Deaf, and a sobering glimpse of the barbed wire fence surrounding Saughton Prison.

Dean Village nestles in a steep-sided gorge where the Dean Bridge, designed by Thomas Telford in 1832, towers above the river at a height of 32 metres. There were mills along this stretch as far back as the 12th century and the village became a centre for flour milling. 

Dean Village

Telford's towering bridge

Here you can pop up to the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art for lunch and a loll about on its expansive lawn, taking in the many outdoor sculptures.  

Miro on the lawn

We notice the work of guerrilla stone-balancers, whose rock creations teeter precariously midstream. 

Stone love

A little further on, towards Stockbridge (meaning timber bridge), another highlight of the route is the St Bernard's Well, popular in the 19th century for its mineral water. Housed inside a roman-style temple with Hygeia, the goddess of health at the centre, recent analysis shows the water to be unfit for drinking.

Inside St Bernard's Well

We walk on through Canonmills (so called because King David l granted one of his mills to the Canon, in 1128). This weekend there's a free festival called Fanfare going on at 12 locations along the Water of Leith. We're lucky enough to catch one of the brass bands in St Mark's Park, by the river at Warriston. We soon singing along to an eclectic set that ranges from Bach to Adele. Sublime.

Brassed off

The walk ends in Leith Docks with its mix of bars, restaurants and restored warehouses. Moored next to Ocean Terminal, a shopping mall, is former Royal Yacht Brittania, now a major visitor attraction. For me, the view of one of Anthony Gormley's life-size figures, staring out to sea, is a far more fitting way to end the walk. 

Sea view at Leith

Tour de force: last leg

The finale of the London Bulgarian Choir's tour is a monastery town called Troyan, where former choir members, Tsenka and Rolf, have organised a concert, as well as places for us to stay. 

To get there, we cross the Balkan mountain range that stretches all the way from Serbia to the Black Sea. It's a steep, winding road and we make the most of the views – and a break from the hairpin bends – at the top of the pass. 

The point of no return

We visit the monastery, a tranquil retreat with a chapel decorated with delicately fading frescoes. We're invited to sing some of our orthodox songs inside and the monks, visibly moved, lead us to their guest quarters for some hospitality – their own homemade rakia. 

Monastic peace and quiet

A matter of life and death

Going inside to sing

The concert that evening is outdoors and we're joined by a local choir who sing in a classical style, a real contrast to the folk melodies and chorals we've just experienced at Koprivshtitsa. It all goes well, and is followed by a slap-up meal laid on by the town council. Several raucous songs later, we slink off to bed. The tour has reached its end. We're hoarse, sleep-deprived and hungover. But we'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

Time for the bus home...

Tour de force: hill folk

The next stop on the London Bulgarian Choir's tour of its cultural homeland is the heritage village of Koprivshtitsa, in the forested hills east of Sofia. It was once a hotbed of revolutionary zeal and passionate anti-establishment plotting. This weekend this rustic and otherwise sleepy community is filled to the rafters for the national festival of Bulgarian culture, held every five years. 

Circle of life

Hair extensions

They drew the short straw

We're here to soak up the atmosphere, but also to open the festival with a performance on the international stage. We have brought the Swiss Bulgarian Choir with us and our collective singers are in guest houses scattered around town. I'm staying in the 'goathouse', or it may be the gatehouse, as there's a giant wooden entrance to the garden compound surrounding the place. Our luggage is transported by taxi while we walk to our digs up steep, cobbled lanes.

Precarious transfer

After a quick pit-stop a few of us head off to explore the music stages. Scattered across the hillsides above town we find all manner of folk life and music. People come from all over Bulgaria to represent their villages and regions, and to show off the songs and stories they've grown up with. There are bright young things in dazzling costumes, but just as plentiful are choirs of grannies whose years are numbered, along with the songs they proudly share.

Gaida (bagpipes Bulgarian-style)

Singing 'on high'

Dressed to thrill

So proud to be here

Linking it all are pathways lined with handicrafts and souvenir stalls, and food offerings catering to every taste, from candy floss to hog roasts to vegan fare (this last a most unlikely addition since our last visit). And everywhere you look there are gaggles of women resting in the shade, eating lunch, joining in the circle dances that break out all over the hillsides, or changing into costume in the bushes. Needs must.

Changing room: women on the verge

Keeping their cool between sets

When our concert rolls around it feels a little ramshackle – the sound is poor – but the audience love us and erupt in wild cheering all the same. Following our set, a couple walk on hot coals – after a two-hour build-up – then the whole square fills up with a giant circle dance. 

Waiting to go on stage

For anyone looking for respite from the music and drama, Koprivshtitsa has some beautiful old house-museums where all manner of revolutionary activity was hatched in the late-19th century. Nosing around their peaceful cobbled courtyards and prettily painted interiors is a world away from the festival throng up on the hill. 

An oasis of calm awaits

Inside it's richly decorated and agreeably shady

Tour de force: central Bulgaria

The London Bulgarian Choir moves inland from the coast to Stara Zagora, home town of our musical director Dessi. According to Wikipedia it's a town of wide streets, linden trees and poets. And it's paired with County Down in Northern Ireland. But we're not really here to explore. It's a flying visit to perform a joint concert with the Swiss Bulgarian Choir (also coached by Dessi) and children's folk music troupe Zagorche. 

Me and those pesky talented kids

It's an action-packed gig for the audience, full of vibrant colour and movement. Kiril Todorov, our favourite composer, is in the audience, and that's always nerve-wracking. The Zagorche kids, in particular, leave us breathless with their energetic routines.

The Swiss choir rehearsing

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Backstage and the heat is on

Back on the tour bus the following day we start on Kiril's homemade rakia brandy and while away the journey with songs, games… even a bit of dancing up and down the aisle. 

We're heading for the hills north east of Sofia. Our next stop is Koprivshtitsa, a very special folk festival…

Rakia-fueled moves on the bus

Tour de force: Bulgarian riviera

From the fringes of the Black Sea to the Stara Planina mountains, this year's concert tour of the London Bulgarian Choir's spiritual homeland is a wonderfully varied and eventful one. It's my third tour with the choir but I'm visiting the Black Sea for the first time.

North beach, unusually empty… if you walk far enough 

Pool-bar shenanigans

The party animals among us make the most of Primorsko, our first stop, a brash and bustling resort about an hour south of Burgas. Our hotel is basic with sheets like tablecloths and pillows like bricks. At least the aircon works and my all-in-one toilet shower is reasonably clean. Others are not so lucky. 

We enjoy the blue sea and the hot sand, and the beach trade with vendors selling everything from salty corn-on-the-cob, to the chance to have your photo taken with a tame snake/parrot/iguana.

Crowds – mostly Bulgarian – throng the beaches by day and pack out the bars and restaurants by night. Drunken teens shriek their way around town, while we singers take refuge in the few quiet bars we can find. Our local, the Follow Your Dreams bar, is down a side street and relatively tranquil. Otherwise, we head down to the sand for guitar strumming and moonlight swims.

Songs by moonlight

Launching a lantern

We escape the hoards on an excursion to Beglik Tash, a sanctuary of sacred stones. The rocks are curvaceous and eerily atmospheric, especially when we sing out from niches in the rock. We also take a boat trip along the Ropotamo river nature reserve, all the way to the 'tseluvka', the place where the river 'kisses' the sea. The breeze is lovely. We sing together and enjoy the calm. It's all helping us to bond as a touring group.

Climbing curvy stones

A river reserve cormorant takes off

Our first concert, on an open-air stage in the town centre, attracts a smallish audience, and the speeches by local worthies last almost as long as our set-list. We are feted with flowers and trophies, and treated to an after-party in a nightclub. One of the local dignitaries says to me, "You can only sing the way you do if your heart is in your hands." Very humbling, particularly when it turns out she is no mean singer herself. We eventually escape beachward to sing folk songs by the light of the moon.

Pre-concert rehearsal in Primorsko

Apron chic – despite the soaring temperature

The second concert of the tour is in Sozopol, a picturesque seaside town with an old, cobbled quarter crowded onto a jutting headland. The vibe here feels quite different – the buskers sing Bob Marley! – as we browse chic boutiques and the hushed interiors of churches, finally coming to rest at a stylish eatery perched on the perimeter wall with spectacular views out to sea. 

We sing that night to a packed open-air amphitheatre – perhaps they've seen the full-page article about us in today's national newspaper. 

Found. The only naff stall in Sozopol

We make page 3 of a national tabloid!