As a student in my early twenties, I decided I could save a bit of money on barbers by cutting my hair myself. I got so used to doing it that I kept it up for most of my life.

For the past few years Lorna has taken over the role, as it was becoming too difficult for me, but she’s never been very happy about it and has often tried to persuade me to go to a proper barber. Up till now I’ve resisted the idea, but when she discovered a Master Barber in the nearby town of Kirriemuir, the description on his website impressed me enough to book an appointment and pop along there a few days ago.

Inside, the barber shop was decorated with an array of pictures and trinkets, including quite a bit of Star Wars memorabilia. There was a lot to look at.

The Master Barber was busy finishing off another client’s hair when we arrived, but after a few minutes he sat me in a large and comfortable chair with footstool attached, and began to work his magic.

Lorna was sitting just behind me, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, as the barber’s hands danced mesmerisingly in a constant flow of confidence, skill and dexterity. From my point of view, it was a supremely gentle and satisfying experience to be tended to by this artisan.

It was such a good experience that I’m looking forward to another visit in the not-too-distant future.