I have just returned from exploring the Shetland Islands – the most northerly place in Britain, over 60 degrees latitude.

I organise and lead private tours there, taking people to the best of Orkney and Shetland, using either B&B or simpler accommodation.

This is an account of the simpler way:

Watched puffins (early August) and lots of seals. Slept in the doorway of a Bod each night, caught the overnight ferry from Kirkwall and flew back from Sumburgh in a twin engine Saab. Rented a car for 3 days from Star rental, which worked well, except the car had an unpleasant smell I attributed to cleaning chemicals and the new upholstery. My nasal passages were much happier when freed of this noxious asault, to enjoy the salty air, the peat fire, the smoked salmon and seaweeds.

Cooked fresh scallops in garlic butter with a dusting of paprika, followed by reestit mutton and tatties. Ate mouthfulls of alfalfa, fruits and veggies. Made scrambled eggs and then toasted wholegrain bread with a fork, holding it close to the orange embers of the peat fire. Toasted in under 10 seconds. Smothered in unsalted butter. I didn’t eat this myself – it was for my guests!

The Bod was too hot to sleep in – thanks to the peat fire in the stove (the only source of cooking heat, except an electric kettle. So, I slep in the porch, in a sleeping bag, with the door open. Fine until 3.30 when the birds all woke up and bugled me awake. Another night was very calm so the midgies were biting and I closed the door to all but a whisper of cool air.

The “Bod“ at Skeld, best described as a cross between a bothy and a hostel, or camping barn, is a mix of modern and ancient, of electrical appliances and basic simplicity. Bods are clean and cared for, provide only mattresses (wafer thin too) on wooden bunk beds, and some like this one have electric showers, lighting and a kitchen, indoor toilets and a black stove. At £8 per person, a night (plus a £1 for electricity and £5 for a bag of peat, which lasted 2 nights continous use) they are a good alternative to b&B or self catering. The only youth hostel, being in the town of Lerwick, is functional but lacks character. Self catering is charged by the week, so is too expensive. B&Bs do not provide places to cook, and it can be tiring eating out and not having control over your diet.

For more info go to Shetland’s Bods run by Sheltand Amenity Trust (branch of the Sheltand Islands Council).

Highlights were the puffins, seals and the rugged coastline, the wonderful hospitality and good weather, making walking to Staneydale a delight with a picnic of smoked salmon, oatcakes and cheeses. Looked at Mousa broch, Clickimin broch, croft museum, Scatness, Jarlshof, Lerwick, Sumburgh Head and lots of Atlantic Ocean and North Sea water! See Doug Houton for some pictures.

Slept ok on the ferry from Kirkwall (Orkney) but the noise of the engine and thrusters took some getting used to. Never the less, it was mighty convenient to have a shower in my cabin and get breakfast before leaving the ferry at 9am. The only downside was being woken at 6.30 am to be told, by a loud announcement, that breakfast was now being served – a totally unnecessary disturbance that wakes everyone! This is followed at 7.30 am by the announcement that we have docked, and a number of other messages for the car drivers (who have to leave and remove their cars – at least they are allowed back on board for breakfast). So, not enough rest for this wicked person. Please will Northlink Ferries cease this practice of waking everyone to promote breakfast sales and let us tired drivers sleep one more delightful hour of cosy dreams? Please.

26/8/08 Here is a blog i just read, about a 6 day tour of Orkney & Shetland, which you might find interesting. Everyone in tourism should read and analyse this fascinating insight into a visitors experience.

I took photographs of some of the trees growing on Mainland, the largest of the Orkney Islands, for two reasons: To show that trees do grow in Orkney and to show how they cope with the strong winds and shorter growing season (sunlight).

I have taken the opportunity of snow to contrast against the limbs, thus showing up the tree shape better – and making some cool patterns in the bargain. All pictures were taken on the 10th Feb 2009, with cold hands. I hope you enjoy!

Sycamores and St Magnus Cathedral

Windswept Sycamore near Maeshowe Chambered Cairn / Tomb

Sycamore sheltered in Finstown

Track through Binscarth – Orkney’s largest wood

Not only Willows and Sycamore

A bonus of exploring Orkney woodland

The sun came out at Redland

Five minutes later, brrr

Trees leaning towards the light in Binscarth

The sky above and branches outlined

Going home!

There you go. I’ll be out more, but the snow is melting, and in summer it will look quite different when all the leaves are out and the many willows are all bushy too.

So, don’t let anyone say again that trees do not grown in Orkney – here is the proof!

For pictures of the Standing Stones in snow, click here

It was 8^oC and it was hammering it down. Yet here I was, fully gortexed-up, barefoot on a beach on Orkney and heading for the sea. After a lifetime of stomping about the countryside in hiking boots, walking barefoot is a strange, but bizarrely enjoyable, experience. “Walking barefoot is a metaphor for how we should treat our environment,” explained our guide for the day, Malcolm Handoll from Five Senses, who had just persuaded us to throw off our socks and shoes and head down to the rocky, seaweed-covered beach in the rain. “It teaches you to tread carefully and engage with nature rather than trample all over it.” It also teaches you that that’s no stranger sensation than feeling bubbles of bladderwrack between your toes and, more conclusively, that when you’re at a latitude parallel with St Petersburg, the sea is painfully cold.

Back in the house, our numb feet began to thaw as we wrapped our hands around a mug of hot tea and watched as Malcolm demonstrated how the Neolithic people of Orkney made fire. After a quick lesson, which was interrupted when a hen harrier hovered inches from the window (wildlife always finds you when you’re least expecting it), it was our turn to create nature’s more basic yet elusive element.

First we constructed a tinder nest by tying a tight knot of dried grass, thumbing it out into a cup-shape and lining it with cotton grass. We then crouched over a long, flat piece of wood with an indentation and a notch, while Malcolm wound a wooden spindle into a primitive bow made from a branch and a rope. I clamped the wood with my newly-thawed foot, steadied the spindle with my left hand (using two limpet shells as a bearing) and held the bow with my right, while my friend Rachel grasped the other end of the bow. The idea was to push and pull the bow, thus spinning the spindle and creating enough friction to generate heat. It was trickier than it looked, but after a few wobbly attempts we saw smoke – lovely thick curls of smoke as the charred dust fell onto a piece of goat skin under the notch. After letting this smoke happily away to itself for a few minutes we gingerly tipped the embers into our tinder nests. Cupping our hands around our nests we then blew gently until the smoke grew thicker and a orange glow appeared. “This is it,” whispered Malcolm, “now take one deep breath and blow gently at first, then harder…” We did as we were told and within seconds were holding our very own flaming ball of fire in our hands. It was a truly a magical moment, exhilarating but a little bit scary. After much whooping we dropped the flaming nest and extinguished our handiwork in one quick step. Strangely satisfied, we were left babbling and smiley and smelling nicely of campfires.

Visit www.allfivesenses.com or wait for the August issue of the magazine to find read more…

Sat, 02/05/2009 – 23:42

Submitted by Joanna Tinsley

Go to BBC Countryfile Blog for more of Joanna’s adventures in Orkney.

I am passionate about the lost art and science of what is termed “Natural Navigation“, or ‘emergency navigation’ – the skill or reading nature’s clues to find your way without map, compass, gps or signposts.

To start you off, here are my favourite books on the subject, which you can all find online. My favourite is Harold Gatty’s Finding Your Way – a classic.

You will understand why I call my business Five Senses, and why walking barefoot has great advantages to learning to read the landscape. Based as I am in the north of Scotland, I believe in teaching people to read and understand their local environment, so not all techniques are applicable in your area (sand dunes are not so common here, nor trees but what there is has been well sculpted by the prevailing winds!)

Have a look at the books:-

Gatty, Harold – Finding your way without map or compass

Aveni, Anthony – People and the sky

Burch, David – Emergency Navigation

Wilson, Neil – SAS Tracking and navigation handbook

Grylls, Bear – Born survivor / Man v Wild – survival techniques …

Thomas, Stephen – Last Navigator

Cunliffe, Tom – Celestial Navigation

Note – I will be reviewing The Natural Navigator, by Tristan Gooley, so it is not yet added here – but it is an excellent book. Details to follow.

It is all about using your senses, being aware and observing – skills that need to be taught and developed – technology has made us lazy. Just like my other passion, making fire. For courses and private info, you can email me.

What are the best books to buy about survival and bushcraft? The best 10 books on the subject from my library, are listed below:

Fire by friction - a helping hand from the survival instructor

Mears, Ray – Outdoor Survival Handbook

Brown, Tom – Tom Brown’s Field Guide to Wilderness Survival

Kochanski, Mors – Bushcraft: Outdoor Skills and wilderness survival

Gatty, Harold – Finding your way without map or compass

Akkermans, Anthonio – Bushcraft Skills and how to survive in the wild

Mabey, Richard – Food for Free

Wiseman, John – SAS Survival Handbook

Grylls, Bear – Born Survivor – Survival techniques from the most dangerous …

Montgomery, David – Mountainman Crafts and Skills

Wescott, David – Primitive Technology: A book of earth skills

These books are easily accessible, cheap and well written with clear diagrams and instruction. Not one is perfect and in the end you still have to put the work in and get your hands dirty – but these have been well tested. The authors often have other books but I like these as being down to earth and not of the “coffee table” type. Comments or suggestions are welcome, if you have other books you woud strongly argue for, I’d like to hear.

Follow the links for more info on the books – links to Amazon.co.uk or write to me for advice.

I live in the Orkney Islands in Northern Scotland and specialise in natural navigation, survival in hostile environments, wild foods, shelters without wood and practical problem solving (ie, when it is not written in a book).

Here are my notes, scribbled first on paper over the last weekend, when we had no electricity for the March Spring Equinox and Power Off Weekend II – please excuse it jumping from past to present tense, this is how I wrote it:

Friday …

Worked like crazy to get the new Five Senses website live by 11pm (official start time of POW, when the electricity is turned off for 48 hours). Totally mad – but we did it, except for the Bushcraft & Survival pages!

Just past midnight we powered off to bed by candle light.

A box of matches symbolically placed by the bed ‘just in case’. The second POW had begun. I smiled and slept deep.

Saturday …

Sunshine and light very early. Warm too – not like the December Power Off.

Walked around the house naked – no hurry, no biting cold.

First thoughts – hot water, to make tea and porridge. Stood in the kitchen I remembered there was to be no electricity. Used the camping gas burner. Easy, if slow. Looked around as water warmed slowly, thought the floor could use a vacuum – dusty – then realised I should brush it instead but I couldn’t be arsed.

After breakfast I set off up the drive to meet the walkers for my Hidden Gems of Orkney walk (second Saturday in the month – introducing them to unknown and wonderful parts of Orkney). Explored eroded cliffs and the beach (scoured by the recent storm), in the Hall of Clestrain (exploring ruins) and building temporary stepping stones for the group to cross streams. Larger versions of childhood games. A cool breeze but sunny.

Afternoon at home. Rachel looked very happy and relaxed.

My mind starts to think ‘food’ which means cooking … but need to do washing up left from last night’s marathon writing session … that needs hot water … needs fire … needs fuel … must saw up wood, so I need to get moving as nothing would happen instantly, at the flick of a switch. However, it all seemed so much easier than the December POW when it was freezing and I had to burn all the driftwood to keep one room warm. This time was far more relaxed. The sun gave enough warmth. A good reminder that it was the Equinox.

Sunshine on the pages of my book making me smile with joy – sunlight so appreciated – feeling of great happiness, love, alive!

Evening. Sun close to setting. We are lucky with the weather but also more appreciative of the sun, it’s light, warmth, presence, life. Now is the Equinox, the sun is out west over Hoy Sound, dropping behind clouds over Stromness, directly west of here. Simple, profound relationships of time, seasons and directions, with the Sun and a spinning Earth.

Earlier I used a sun dial to tell the time but it was out of sync with human time by 40 minutes. Nice to realise I don’t need to know ‘the time’ today – I am in ‘holiday mode’, not knowing or worrying what time it is. No visible clocks or watches in the house … unless I dig into my rucksack or look at the mobile phone (which I did earlier). The sun is starting to be time again, dusk is falling. TV schedules can all wait.

We use three vacuum flasks so tea brewing is made easier whenever there is a fire. They work well – a good supply of hot water and means I don’t need to tend the fire so often (driftwood and peat) unlike December! A wood buring stove would be so good though. Note to everyone, get a stove, with a flat top. That with a good pipe to vent should be a basic of all houses, so even if not used much it is there for emergencies like power cuts. Much more fuel efficient and burns paper bricks, driftwood, garden cuttings, anything if push comes to shove.

Too early to light candles but light fading – I sit right by the window reading by twilight to the last possible minute, book facing flat out to west like a solar panel or flower for maximum light. Room is calm without electricity. People are naive to think we burn lots of candles to replace electric light (low energy bulbs of course) because in the most part we are enjoying sunlight, the flickering flames of a real fire and I am quite delighted by my navigational prowess in negotiating rooms in the dark:

Choosing tea by smell in stead of lighting up, using my sense of touch often, and listening for when a kettle is coming to boil or when a hot water bottle is near full with the hot water I’m pouring. Sounds, smells, textures all coming to prominence in the gentler light. You must try it to feel it.

Light first candle. Put white sheet of paper behind it to reflect light into room. So simple but effective.

So peaceful in the house – sound of wood crackling in the fire, birds twittering outside.

Eat bacon, eggs, mushrooms, bread and now next cup of tea … slight smoky taste, wonderful. Almost feels like bed time but still not fully dark. Fun

Navigation – Crescent moon in the West, high above the ocean, casting light through this window. Went outside to pee, which is easier outside in the dark. Fantastic sky! All the main constellations very clear with a bright moon giving good light to see by and also hiding the smaller stars, leaving only the brightest. Leo, Gemini, Orion, Cassiopeia and the others all prominent. Moon pointing towards South quite nicely.

Happy reading. Kind of miss watching a film though.

Went to bed, time unknown, but too sleepy to read more. Fell asleep quickly.

Sunday …

Awoke in the night … stars … but not sleeping well … bad dream … so get up later in a low mood. Light gas, boil water, porridge, tea and then a bit more bacon and egg. Twice in 24 hours! Go wild.

Swept floor of conservatory and kitchen with dustpan and brush. Did my daily poo inspection (shocking, I’ll skip the details). Makes me notice I’m feeling a bit off, weak, light headed. Opt to treat for dehydration. Head is fuzzy so finding talk and ideas hard to enjoy. Drinking water.

Think R is distracted then realise it is probably me. Walked outside barefoot onto the grass, opening my awareness. My book reading marathon has taken me away from R for too long. Need to play

We talk about how hard it is to relax, to have weekends off work, especially when self employed and self motivated. How society is requiring people to work more, consume more, be forever active, no time to really rest. Even holidays have to be ‘earned’ by excessive hours before and afterwards, effectively eating into that rest time. And people don’t get enough sleep!

Great to  contrast the two POWs, December and March. I’m keen to now do June, September and Dec again. This time there is so much more daylight, the air is warmer, the sun also providing warmth this time, even at 59 degrees North. Again it is so good to be aware of the sun’s journey across the sky, setting West, Equinox really means something. Not in a religious or spiritual way, as such but observational, scientific … this is reality, it does this whether you notice it or not. The world spins in orbit of the sun, the moon orbiting Earth, tides ebb and flow. I like being aware of my place in the universe, I feel more self-confidence and happiness as a result.

Time to play Ticket to Ride. Set up in conservatory, where there is enough warmth from the sun, sheltered from the wind. Start to feel better, gradually. Drink more water.

Win the game. I go and make soup. Lentils been soaking overnight in the dirty pressure cooker – my idea to save washing up, so looks pretty ugly, with remains of venison stew (sorry my dear vegetarian friends). Cook over gas again because pressure cooker not good over naked flame, anyway it boils quickly and job is done with little fuel used. Cook veg including the defrosted peas and sweetcorn . Yummy. Feels super healthy, esp after the previous bacon fest and fat.

Pet watching – two cats, one mouse. Comical. I’m smiling again. At sea there are seals, ducks, calm water.

R is at the spinning wheel in the conservatory, I’m gonna light the fire.

Took photos of the setting sun between 6 and 6.30pm together with the moon high in the South West. Beautiful light blue sky with powdery clouds like the end of an avalanche, covering the moon. Then she is back.

Cooked over wood fire – mashed potato with mackerel and cabbage, in the skillet. Simple but tasty.

Light is fading, so again I’m using all the remaining precious light. I know we would normally have lights on now, if we were using electricity, but really it seems that is all about fear, fighting the dark, like it is bad, evil. Now it seems lovely and calming to be here as the sun fades and to welcome the night. I am safe in my own home after all. I have nothing to fear. The night is beautiful.

I lament the loss of ‘darkness’ (the gentle light of lamp and fire and candle) nowadays, replaced by a blaze of continual brightness, only ended when I close my eyes. How unnatural, limiting, sterile. It is hard if this is how you were brought up. Harder still if you were scared as a child with stories of monsters, evil, things unknown. Stories that controlled children for so long seem to limit us now we have the technology to fill the night with reassuring light. Am I the only one to think this? I remember the street lights being switched off at night and the world sleeping, except the owls and their companions. This seemed as natural as the sun setting and switching off lights. But nowadays we live in perpetual light, whole towns lit, shops, advertising, security cameras searching … fear on the one hand, commerce and consumption on the other. Convenience but at what price, I ask?

Monday …

Day three – We are in no hurry to switch the power back on.

It was fun last night washing up with water boiled over the wood fire, in the kitchen with one candle, memories of Ferry Farm.

This morning, flasks of water still nice and warm from last night too so I am quick on the porridge, green tea and juice situation.

Delighted the day is grey, windy and damp – shows what a good weekend it was – sun, stars, low wind. Very lucky.

Finished book last night around midnight. Excellent stuff. But late to bed. Awoken in the night by sound of rapid tapping on roof, driving us mad. Tried to ignore but just couldn’t sleep – ended up having to half crawl out onto roof to fix … a roof tile seems to have broken.

Lit fire for warmth and mood … last bits of wood, not enough to last the day, maybe 3 hours at most. There is some outside I can go cut up, later. First to cook lunch – lots of vegetables for health. Food supplies low. Now we are vegetarian until I next go shopping.

Little desire to turn electricity back on.

We recognise now the importance of the power being turned off completely (for us anyway) like having no chocolate or cigarettes I guess. The temptation when the power is back on to “just do stuff” is strongly ingrained in us. It is so much easier to relax when you know the power is off. We talk of the tendency to overdo things unless breaks are forced upon us (even by ourselves – hell, who else is going to help us if we are otherwise dumb enough to overwork?) – the compulsion to be doing things, socially productive things - so we talked about things like meditation, yoga, rest, weekends – and the struggle in today’s society to ‘do nothing’. Even when physically inactive we are under pressure to be doing things – thinking – or imputing data (reading or watching TV). Even meditation is a trendy label. I also just like being still, in nature, beside the fire.

I measure the temperature in the fridge: 10 deg C, the same as elsewhere in the house, except this one room we live in, with the fire. It is 19 deg C in here. Still drafts as the fire sucks air from under the door and through cracks in the walls but comfortable.

Sun comes out as it rolls over Stromness. The room temp reaches 21 degrees. Too warm.

We decide the best way to welcome electricity back into our lives is to watch 6 Nations rugby! So we start up the internet, there are beeps and the fridge grumbles into life, and we get the good old BBC iplayer going, watch Wales, then Scotland.

The stove remains off. This big dinosaur of a beast that consumes electricity like the antithesis of a power station. For now, we prefer to be cool and eating frugally. Some day a wind turbine will power it for ‘free’ but not now, not this day.

I think back to the sounds of the weekend … the kettle singing a rising scale to tell me when the water neared boiling, no electric kettle has ever sounded so beautiful with its impatient roar … I think of the sunlight changing throughout the day but mostly as it faded gradually at dusk, or the shadows moving as we walked to bed with candle in hand, and no house has felt alive like that beneath the constancy of electric light.

Don’t get me wrong, electricity is amazing, truly astounding and near magical – and precious … but it is not everything and we can have so much more if we have both light and dark … and all the shades in between. We can have electric guitars and synthesisers but there is still beauty and joy in violin and drum, the chirping of a skylark or the sighing of the wind.

The next Power Off weekend is in June 19-20. I hope some of you will join us. See the Facebook Group for details.

The first draft of this diary were typed up to my Play2Survive blog.

All the Power Off writing is on our Touchwood Project website.

Today, in the spirit of being frugal and eco-friendly, I am going to show you how to make your own lamp using only natural materials.

This I believe to be one of the earliest of human inventions and in all honesty, it is superior to the man-made, metal equivalent.

For one thing the parts are white and shiny, so reflect more light. For another there are many flutes thus allowing multiple wicks and thus variable brightness (the world’s first ‘dimmer switch’). Oh, and they are free, recyclable and beautiful.

Recycling a Scottish tradition

During the 17th – 19th centuries, and probably long before, traditional cruisie lamps were used to burn fish oil.

These were generally made of two metal dishes mounted one above the other, on the wall or hook. Now we are going to update this old lamp for the 21st century.

What you need

• scallop shells or similar containers
• vegetable oil or any oil that burns
• rushes or cloth, string or matchsticks

Readying the shell

Eat your scallop. Clean the shells, especially the insides, so there is nothing to ‘go off’. This also helps with reflectance.

The flat half of the shell makes an ideal base, to steady the upper shell and catch any oil that may run down the side of the shell. It also helps you tilt the curved shell at the right angle to keep the wick in oil.

That is the shell done!

Making the wick

You can use anything that will soak up oil, including cloth, string and matchsticks. I use the traditional wicks made from the soft rush (Juncus).

Gathering the rushes

The soft rush has been used for rush lights and wicks from long ago. As it is nowadays treated as a weed or plant of waterlogged and overgrazed land, it seems a good plant to use.

Gather a few stems of soft rush by cutting low to the ground. It is the soft, white pith in the centre that you want.

You can try peeling the dark green outer fibres as you would a banana, but for high quality wicks and speed, try this:

How to make the wicks from rushes

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Insert a nail, key, bone or similar hard object into the rush, leaving an inch or so of rush to grip (with your teeth). Note, the nail goes right through the rush stem but leaves the outer fibres intact on either side of it.

The green rush is pinched with finger and thumb against the nail. One hand is holding the nail, the other is pinching the rush sides against the nail.

Now, keeping the fingers pinching the ‘nail’ at all times, push both hands down the stem, whilst holding that inch of rush firmly between your teeth.

Beginners will want to choose only a short length of rush, maybe 4-6 inches, to start.

You will find the white inner pith is pushed out by the hard ‘nail’, as it cannot pass either side of the nail because of your pinching the sides to the hard object. The pushed out pith will then magically extend, like a concertina.

An alternative method is to strip away one half of the green outer fibre (as per the banana skin method, then use the back of your thumb nail to push along the inner of the remaining fibre, thus pushing the white pith forward and out, like a snow plough.

Either way, you are looking for nice, plump wicks. They can be used straight away or kept dry for storage.

Add the oil

Traditionally the oil could be coming from fish, seabird, seal, whale or animal fat (as tallow). If it burns, you can use it.

The easiest to use, and handiest in a power cut, is vegetable cooking oil. You usually have some of this in the kitchen, though it does give of a bit of smoke and the smell depends on what it is. You can add scent with essential oils.

Be safe

Burning oil can cause other things to catch light, so be careful.

Whilst the shell itself is low-lying and thus pretty stable, it can be knocked, spilt or spread. Do not light your lamp when it is set upon something flammable. Wood and plastic objects burn. Things like tables, televisions, stereos etc. All serious fire hazards.

Do not leave a naked flame unattended. Do not let pets near (the vegetable / fish oil is very edible).

How to use

Fill the shell with oil, place one wick in the fluted groove of the shell (perfect isn’t it), leaving half an inch protruding over the end of the rim.

Get the wick tip covered in oil too.

Keep the oil level high and close to the rim by repositioning the shell on it’s flatter, lower partner. Take care to get it stable and not having oil dripping over the edge.

Light with a match or similar flame.

Take care, please

Please take care! Ensure all fire, flame or heat is safe and out before you go to bed or leave the house. Accidents happen by their very nature when not expected. That said, many fires are started by electrical faults.

In this case, the safety is up to you. Fire and alcohol do not mix.

Final point

There is no point trying to replicate the light of a 100w lightbulb with candles or lamps. Instead, enjoy the calm and soft light of a natural flame.

Now run that bath and set up your lamps, with essential oils added, and relax. Who needs TV?

“Up from the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success,” says the fount of wisdom that is Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I had cause to remember this as I made a complete mess of things initially with my first project, Wellie Boot Liners. I mentioned yesterday I was working on these and this morning I was determined to finish them, but I ran into problem after problem and finally had to admit defeat.

However, where my the boot liners failed, my alternative solution came up blooming because its far, far easier and quicker: Felted Shoe Insoles.

These handy little babies are what’s going to let me wear my utterly charming but poorly insulated new Wellington boots instead of having to stump for the practical but boring option.

What you need to make Felted Shoe Insoles at home

All you need is (yet again) an old wool sweater. That’s it.

If I haven’t persuaded you to start trawling the charity shops and your friends closets for old sweaters — especially ones with moth holes or stains — then hopefully I will now.

As I explained in the Felted Sweater Bag tutorial (for pictures and more detailed instructions), you simply add a few good squeezes of dishwashing liquid onto your sweater and throw it into the wash on the hottest cycle you have.

How to make the insole

Once you have your felt, simply remove the sole from your shoe and place it on top of the fabric.

Then cut around it — I didn’t bother to trace it or anything, just cut away — with a little extra room just in case.

Place it in your shoe or boot and trim if necessary. That’s it!

Making a Wellie Boot warmer

Now here’s how I came to be doing this. These are the boots that are my super deluxe purchase of the year: the Hunter Festival 2009 wellington boot.

I’m afraid they’re pretty much all style over substance, meant for traipsing about rock concerts in the mud. I tried, I really did, to find boots that had a rugged sole and warm interior to suit our daily treks over the rocks and the beach, but they were all just so borrrring.

I like my jaunts outside to have the spice of adventure, and that means a pair of boots I can’t wait to put on.

Wellie boot liners

When I found out there is such a thing as wellie boot liners, I thought I’d go one better and make them out of felted sweaters I’ve already got. Here’s the original design I was attempting to copy:

My niece Sameena was visiting from New Zealand and she came up with the design. She thought very cleverly of using plastic bags to wrap around our feet to get an idea of the shape of the pattern and we even sewed a mockup that looked like it would work.

So I made it up this morning using two different sweaters because I didn’t have enough fabric left over in either. But when I tried to put it in the boot, no luck.

Wayyyy to much fabric meant it was never going to get in there. It was a bit depressing really, but then sometimes it’s good to realise just how hard things are to make, that there’s a reason cobblers are master craftsmen, for example.

As I was thinking what to do with all these scraps of felt, I figured I could at least line the bottom of my boots and so I pulled out my shoe sole, cut around it, and popped the fleece into the boot. Ah, luxury.

I’m wearing the boots today to see how they do. So far, the soles feels fantastic.

So my other lesson for today is to Keep It Simple. And just for fun…

Your suggestions?

I haven’t given up completely on the boot liners, so if you have any suggestions, please chime in.

So far, this is the best Welly Warmer tutorial I’ve found and I’ll probably give it a go at some point (though I couldn’t find any pattern to download, which means I’ll need to come up with it myself).

I’ve already ordered the faux fur to make the Dubarry knock-off boot liners, but now I’m thinking I might just use my over-the-knee socks and add a strip of fur to the edge.

If you try the insoles, let me know how you like them.