20 October 2008

Scottish Sojourn - 17th to 19th October

0 comments

Autumn is probably the loveliest time to be in northern Britain. And the loveliest part of northern Britain in autumn could quite possibly be the Speyside region in Scotland. Over the weekend we had the good fortune to judge for ourselves.

Unfortunately I remembered to leave the camera at home, so you will have to make do with my largely inadequate descriptions to conjure up an image of the charm and tranquility of this part of the world.

I made an early dash from work on Friday and, after pausing briefly at home to arrange matters to Domino's liking and picking up some supplies from the fridge, I picked Maria up with a full hour and a half to get to the train station at York. What could possibly go wrong? Suffice it to say that we made the platform, disheveled and cranky, with at least 30 seconds to spare.

I won't go into the details of the train pricing in the UK. Frankly, you probably wouldn't believe it if I told you. But we found that for our journey from York to Edinburgh on this occasion it was actually cheaper to book first class. I didn't need much encouragement to do so, and we travelled to Edinburgh in style, passing the two and a quarter hours sipping our complimentary tea and coffee (mine was particularly nice about my hair), and munching our way through the supplies I had judiciously snarffled from the fridge earlier.

We arrived in Edinburgh in high spirits and met up with Shaun outside Haymarket station. The next part of the journey was not quite as luxurious. Imagine for a moment what it would be like to be stuffed into a two door VW Polo with three other sturdily built people and luggage for four for a weekend away. By strange coincidence, that's exactly what it was like for the drive from Edinburgh to Annabel's parent's house in Kinross, north of Edinburgh. Fortunately this was a mere 30 mile drive including a view of the Forth rail bridge from the road bridge.

In Kinross we were assailed by three dogs and Annabel, all of whom piled into Annabel's mother's estate with Annabel's friend Lindsay, while Shaun, Maria and I retreated to Annabel's car for the 100 mile journey to Tontearie. This journey, interrupted only briefly for a stop at a chippy, passed in what was classed as "fair conditions" (this being Scotland, "fair" meant driving rain with occasional deer hazards). However it was dry and brisk when we arrived late in the evening.

We settled in to our weekend retreat with drink and a good sit down in front of the wood burning stove. It occurs to me that the rise of television and the general deployment of central heating may have had a causal relationship. When wood burning fires became less common, I imagine that people found they needed something to occupy their vision on winter evenings. Regardless, it never ceases to amaze me how alluring is the presence of a wood fire, a treat for all the senses. Except for taste obviously. But then taste and smell are supposed to be approximately the same thing aren't they? I seem to have digressed...

We awoke, first thing the following afternoon, to our first real view of the countryside in which we found ourselves. The house in which we stayed was once a farmer's cottage and is nestled within a working cattle farm within the Speyside region, south of Inverness. The narrow, winding roads thereabouts take you through forests of gentle aspect and are furnished with road signs reminding you that its likely that you will be killed hitting one of the deer which roam in seeming abundance. The various shades of green, gold, red and brown foliage, whipped up by the bracing winds, swirl around, making you feel like you are in an advertisement for an expensive German car. And when you stop to look over the loch nearby, you have to look around to make sure you don't end up in anyone's post card photograph, so tranquil and perfect is the cold, clear lake under the cold clear sky. The cottage has recently been extended with a conservatory, offering uninterrupted views of the green pastures and beyond to the forested hills, seemingly clad in gold and mountains, grey and rocky above the winter snow line.

Into this impossibly blessed landscape we were propelled by the motive force of three excitable canines. Over the fertile hills and through the fields we tramped, making our own path and finding creative ways of overcoming barbed wire. The right to roam is one of Britain's more charming affectations, and it gives you a real sense that farmers are really just caretakers, looking after the landscape and passing it on to the next generation. Well it gives me that sense. I don't think I'll go looking for scottish cattle farmers to try out my idea.

The only other adventure to be had that fine Saturday was a trip into the nearby town. Whilst the womenfolk browsed the offerings at the deli and butchers, Shaun and I browsed the camping/adventure shops. It makes one feel very hardy and adventuresome looking through their range of thermals and waterproofs and boots and such. Trying out the walking poles made me feel particularly active. And having got that out of our systems, and with the womenfolk laden down with cheeses and various other food stuffs, we returned to the cottage for some serious indulgence.

Conservative MP Michael Gove wrote in the Times over the weekend that "the three things you can't economise on are wine, chocolate and socks". He was nearly right. I think I have economized enough on socks over the years that there must be a secret fortune owed to me somewhere around the place. And frankly I can take or leave chocolate (he says over the howls of dissent from the sweeter smelling slightly more than half of the population). He was dead on about wine of course. But how could he have so flagrantly forgotten cheese! To refer to your average supermarket cheddar as cheese in the same breath as a fine, matured or smoked Wendsleydale or a caramelized onion cheddar from Arran, is to seriously mislead and may lead to unexpected haughtiness in your vicinity (at least from this quarter).

So we tucked into some lovely grub that evening, including some wonderful cheese, some delightful venison (not the result of careless driving I might add) all washed down with a couple of perfectly serviceable bottles of big 14 reds. Many of you have probably heard me say that I simply cannot fall asleep sitting up unless I am driving. Well, a few good glasses of red after a bracing walk, a nice meal and a log fire complete with a warm dog on my feet seems to provide the stimulus. I'm not sure how I could arrange that for my long haul flights, although as the only carrier who probably wouldn't notice me setting fire to the seat in front of me, QANTAS could be an option at the moment.

The following day was filled with the sweet sorrow of our parting, first from the cottage, and then from Shaun, Annabel and Lindsay. As we boarded our train from Edinburgh back to York (via Carlisle of all places due to engineering works) we felt so refreshed from our weekend that we decided to buy the weekend, first class upgrade and go home in the style in which we would like to become accustomed.

As a side note, I would like to add that, to my surprise, the service in first class was, if anything, even more surly than in cattle class. I will never understand why British people can't be nice when they sell you a sandwich. Oh well.

If you have managed to make it to the end of my rambling account, well done - 10 out of 10 and a koala stamp, as Philip Adams would say. Until I have something interesting to write about, take care.

Read More...

10 October 2008

6 months later... - 10 October 2008

1 comments

Many things have happened in the past 6 months. The writing of the blog has not been one of them. We shall redress this imbalance henceforth...

Since so much time has passed since our last exciting installment, we shall update you with a monthly summary.

May included Maria's Herculean (or should that be Marathonian?) effort, completing the Beverley 10k in a personal best time! I even put my pint of Guinness down for long enough to cheer her over the line...

Also in May, we travelled to Catterick Barracks to enjoy Shaun and Annabel's company at the May ball for Shaun's regiment. The food, drink and merriment were all fine and abundant, and we shall enjoy recalling the occasion over tall drams long after my teeth have found better living arrangements.

Also in May (a busy month, surpassed only by some of those which follow) we went to London to help Cath, our neighbor and friend, celebrate the coming of her 4th decade. Half of Cath's family are dutch, so we found ourselves in a dutch pub in the West End until we were ejected and did the only decent thing; falling into a Chinese restaurant. A great night was had by all those who can't remember any different.

June included our first ever camping trip together. It involved a tent and everything! I even have a photo to prove it! We camped in Ripon near Fountains Abbey.

For my birthday, a group of malcontents including the aforementioned Cath, my professor Chris, my (now ex) neighbor from downstairs and [also ex] colleague, Antonio, Maria and I went for a ripping hot vindaloo at Ray's place at the end of the street. I only have half a tongue left, buth ith wath worth ith.

Toward the end of June we decamped to Frankfurt for the nuptials of our friends Gitte and Stefan. The polterabend very nearly killed us. I never want to see another shot of jagermeister again. After a touching ceremony (of which I didn't understand a word) we enjoyed a wonderful evening of revelry including speeches which were usefully translated from German by Gitte's mother, Kirsten. Unfortunately they were translated into Danish, so I have no idea what was said in the speeches either. A great time was had by all.


July saw the social event of the season with Maria's 400 and 20 12th birthday, celebrated with a murder mystery party held under a marquee in our back yard. Shaun and Annabel came down, and the theme of the evening, 'Death by Chocolate' was very popular amongst the members of the fairer sex.

July also saw us meandering across the country to Manchester one fine Friday evening to see the singing budgie strutting her stuff on stage. Yes, we went to a Kylie concert, and she didn't disappoint. What did surprise me was how many members of the crowd weren't gay men. Course this was Manchester I guess...

Toward the end of July we were joined by another intrepid traveller in the form of Cam, fresh from the States and just primed for some action, Hull style.

In August we drove up to Edinburgh for Shaun's moving to Germany party, which ended up being an impromptu engagement party. Shaun had proposed to Annabel in an impossibly romantic way whilst in the Maldives, so there was much to celebrate, and a good crowd in the mood for celebrating.

The end of August also meant the end of Maria's period of employ at the North East Lincolnshire council.

September gave us the opportunity for some well earned rest, so Maria cycled from Whitby to Scarborough( though some diabolical weather), then caught the train to Thirsk, where I picked her up and we traveled to the Lakes district. We had organized to stay in some quite rustic accommodation in the Lakes, known as 'camping barns'. We discovered that the level of luxury offered in these barns started at walls and a roof. At the other end of the scale, a working kitchen and proper wood stove were included, which felt like heaven after a few days on the bike. We climbed some spectacular passes and experienced the countryside in a way which you just can't do in a car. And I never want to do it again. No sport that leaves you with such a smarting behind can be in any way healthy in my books.

After we got back from the Lakes, I dropped one itinerant off and collected another one, leaving Cam to find his way to the continent, and finding a Dave in need of a lift to the Beaulieu Auto jumble.

With Maria busy in the first week of her new job, I spent a happy week with Dave, showing him the delights of the Yorkshire Moors and Dales and indulging in not a few pints of Yorkshire's finest ales. Truly, Yorkshire is God's own country, and anyway who says otherwise is a soft southerner! Seen from the opulent luxury of a mini, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. We ended our visit from Dave with a day at the Goodwood Revival, ogling some lovely cars and WW2 planes and having a generally fine time under the unseasonably warm September sun. But before getting to Goodwood, we paused for a day in Oxford to catch up with a visiting professor and gentlemen, and Maria's former supervisor, John. Oxford struck me as an unsettling place, pretty in parts, but not satisfying in the way that Cambridge was. Can't quite put my finger on why...

After dropping Dave off with some friends in Sussex we returned to Hull and the relative routine that should see us through to Christmas. The end of September occasioned the first birthday party of Sarah (aka Munch), the offspring of our friends Elaine and Andrew so we dutifully presented ourselves in Driffield and endured a splendid lunch of finger foods and lager.

October has also been a busy month so far. I have just started my PhD (only 5 years to go!). The weather turned quite cold and then got a bit warmer again, but its definitely getting darker. We're getting up in the dark at the moment at 6:30 and with daylight saving ending in a few weeks, we will start finishing work in the dark too.

The Hull fair has opened, and I believe that we are going along next week with Cath to sample its many and varied delights. Next weekend sees us venturing once more to Scotland for a break with Shaun and Annabel, and we are very much looking forward to that (though I can hear my liver weeping pitifully as I type).

So that's it from me. As much as I can squeeze 6 months (just about) into a few short paragraphs, that is your lot. But with a PhD thesis to write, I'm sure you shall be hearing from me more often, as nothing breeds procrastination like a hundred thousand words of self indulgent drivel!

That's the end of this somewhat disappointing bottle of South African shiraz, so till next time, take care, and complaints about my grammar can be kept to yourself.

Read More...