Auld and New by Banjo Beale

My best pal Chris is an 80-year-old granny who has weaved a remarkable little world at Isle of Mull cheese, the last remaining cheese farm in the Hebrides. In 2015 our life changed when we wandered into her patch of paradise on the west coast of Scotland. My partner Ro and I quit our jobs in Australia and bought a one way ticket to Sri Lanka with no plan and no idea where we’d end up. We had a hunch there might be more out there for us. Less as well; less stress, less competition and less consumption.

My best pal Chris is an 80-year-old granny who has weaved a remarkable little world at Isle of Mull cheese, the last remaining cheese farm in the Hebrides. In 2015 our life changed when we wandered into her patch of paradise on the west coast of Scotland. My partner Ro and I quit our jobs in Australia and bought a one way ticket to Sri Lanka with nI was an Ideas Director working in advertising in Australia. A fabulous job title that does what it says on the tin. It was a dream role that suited a perpetual dreamer. Every day I’d come up with creative ideas on how to get people to spend money, mostly on things they don’t need.

My best idea, however, was embarking on a voyage around the world that has never quite ended. Lowering the anchor into Tobermory Harbour, I now call the Isle of Mull home. Arriving as broke backpackers we quickly became chubby cheesemakers, falling in love with the people and the place. Isle of Mull Cheese is a traditional, family-run dairy, led by its fearless matriarch. Quickly, we made lifelong friends in this fierce farmer and began to host charity nights to raise money for our yak farming friends affected by the Nepal earthquake. We dived head first into the community, joining Woolly Wednesdays, or stitch and bitch, as we like to call it, knitting and yarning with the grannies.

The following year, Chris invited us to lease The Glass Barn - a gorgeous vine-filled barn erected by the family in the eighties that was recycled itself, once standing as a town hall in a nearby village on the island. Ro was the cook and bookkeeper and I was the tinkerer. The Glass Barn was my playground of curios and collections and a constant canvas. It was here that I learned the art of reimagining whatever was at hand, into something useful or unusual.

Fast forward and I’m now an interior designer and Ro is the big cheese, managing the production of Isle of Mull cheese and helping the family create a distillery, turning leftover whey into spirit. We don’t waste anything here. Sgriob- ruadh farm is circular, using, re-using and turning remnants and waste into something new, useful or beautiful.

Living on an island is Marie Kondo’s worst nightmare. Not only do we keep things that spark joy, we keep things that could spark joy in ten years time; from rusty windows to wobbly, warped wood. When you live in the middle of nowhere, you soon realise saving for a rainy day really is a thing. It certainly helps to save money and in turn it’s good for the planet, but the reality of living on an island, without the usual shops and delivery options is that we simply must work with what we’ve got. At first, it’s an annoyance and of course, there are days we long for the convenience of the mainland, but it becomes a habit after a while and necessity is the mother of invention, after all. From no budget and scarce materials, some of my best ideas have been born. It also forces you to learn new skills; buffing, polishing, mending and making all manner of things.

Most recently we have created a farm shop from nothing new. A doorway collected from the island’s golf club would become the dresser; a counter from the old supermarket would form the base cabinets; a 60-year-old moss-covered piece of marble formed the top; doors from the town’s old treasure shop would make the cladding; a bowl once used in Victorian cheesemaking to separate milk and cream would become the kitchen sink and a splendid set of William Morris curtains from the charity shop would bring it all together.

On my television programme, Designing the Hebrides, my motley crew of tradespeople weave their magic to help me transform tired and neglected spaces across the islands.

Rescued from an old dairy, lengths of timber have been quietly supporting cheese for a hundred years.

With time, these truckle-stained shelves make characterful cladding for a hidden door and wall in our gin bar.

Copper 

Copper is a soft, malleable and expensive new material and even in the scrap metal world it’s considered King. Copper hot water cylinders are a fantastic way to get your hands on this precious resource and with a little bit of elbow grease, we flattened our stash to make this patina rich counter- top. 

Lights 

Light shades are a great starting point for a resourceful little spruce up in the home. Basically, anything can be a light shade with a little intervention, from a bowl or basket to a hat, pot or parasol. A drill and tension wire are all we needed to turn cowbellls into these light shades. Sometimes it really is best to work with the hand that nature gives us. In sub-tropical Australia I grew bamboo and on the farm in Scotland we grow willow. A fast-growing, set-and-forget crop, willow can transform from a hedge to a basket, screen, door or lampshade. Growing your own hardware and homeware store may be a step too far but even the smallest corner of a backyard or community plot could yield your next great design piece. Here, we have taken discarded chairs and added a woven, willow back.