It was autumn 2017, and I was visiting my dear friends in the wonderful Alentejo. Carlos weaves and Monica turns everything she touches into a thing of beauty. It’s peaceful and soulful and there is a gorgeous yarn shop in their village run by a mother and daughter. I always have a shop up and we’re all gardening and making and there is joy and the special light and the milky way in the special darkness, and the cork oaks, and the birds and the sheep. It’s a wrench to leave to go into the nearest town, but there was a fish market and so we did, and went to the beach for a quick dip and some stretching and some meditation at the ocean waves. And I felt a little twinkle, born out of the awe of those ocean waves, the warmth of friendship, the joys of connecting with people through making and growing and sharing, the hub of the yarn shop and all the village craftsfolk, and the mind of travelling slowly, taking it all in.

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I wanted to honour the ancient connections along the coastline where goods, skills, stories, music and love have been exchanged for millennia, and whose dwellers share the same sunsets and Atlantic winds. As a maker of scarves, blankets, rugs and sweaters, I have joined a long-standing tradition of using yarn to create warmth and protection against those gales and breezes. I also wanted to celebrate the independent yarn shops and their place in the community, and as soon as I had the idea on that beach on Sines, I knew I was going to do it. I spent the next few months planning the route, the journeys, finding yarn shops, and raising funds by raffling off large blankets I made. I also received 33 pledges, in exchange for which I made a scarf with yarn bought on the journey and sent it with a handwritten letter along the way. They chose colours and kinds of yarn, or sometimes a specific part of the journey they felt their own connection with. Leftover yarn from each scarf is included in the wallhanging, against its background of Atlantic blue-grey, so connecting the pledgers and the yarn shops altogether. As my route developed, I embroidered the map.

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My journey began in the Connemara in Ireland, through Brittany, Spain, Portugal and Morocco, with over 40 independent yarn shops along the way. Fittingly, both the first and last stop were particularly connecting- The beautiful Chinny, at Viviana in Clifden, was born in Nigeria, and it turned out, is related to my aunt Martha. The lovely Mohamed in Essaouira was someone I was returning to visit. He passed away not long before I arrived- so it was his daughter Hannan and her husband Mohamed I went to visit in the Souk, with a bag of sugar as is traditional to bring to the bereaved. Having just lost my own mother, we shared a poignant moment, just as we share a lifelong love of yarn. More stories on the blog.

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With special thanks to pledgers Matthew Chefchaouen, Chloe Clifden, Jools and Steve Essaouira, Lara Llanes, Elaine Lisbon, Marc Morlaix, Susan Gijón, Gaël Landerneau, Karl Plymouth, Jennifer Ennis, Cathy Cercal do Alentejo, Phoebe Alcácer do Sal, Marc Limerick, Barry Figuera da Foz, Catalina Santander, Cameron Olhão, Sam Clonakilty, Johnny La Coruña, Sarah Plouzané, Anna Cercal do Alentejo, Kathleen Porto, Ger Bodilis, Catherine Lagos, Maïwen Setúbal, Helena Dingle, Manda Vigo, Monica Dungarvan, Ursula Cork, Shane Porto, Yuna Cleder, Lindsay Douarnenez, Jos Cork & Andy Bantry. Names have been changed to the place their scarf connects them to, not because they are on the run. Not all of them anyway.