A Walking Talking Jinx

So I went down to the Central Belt last week. Flight down to Glasgow was delayed by 30 minutes, but that's par for the course these days, especially in tourist season. The airport in Kirkwall was stiff with people, which isn't anything I've ever seen before. Mind you we now have two airlines serving Orkney; Flybe, known locally as Flymaybe as they aren't  the most reliable airline in the world, especially in relation to island flights,  and Loganair, who very recently became a standalone outfit rather than a franchise one. So now we have all the excitement of two check in desks for two different airlines. It'll be check in machines for people and baggage before we know where we are. As an aside, I've got quite used to checking myself in, but still resent having to do my own bags, although Edinburgh and Vancouver are the only places I've been where that's the rule rather than the exception. 

Anyway I flitted about while south and everything was very smooth, to the extent that I made two very foolish assertions; I said to a friend last Friday that I had never had a problem with Scotrail and to my son on Saturday morning that all the travelling had gone really smoothly on this trip. I said that as we were setting out to walk to the local rail station, where the plan was to catch a train to Queen Street Station, settle myself in my pre-booked  seat on the train to Aberdeen and arrive there with plenty of time for a quick look in a couple of shops before making my way to the ferry. 

Sadly and for  no apparent reason all the local trains in Glasgow were cancelled for the weekend. No problem I thought, I will get a taxi and promptly rang for one. Twenty minutes later, with still no sign of it, I checked with firm, pointing out I had a train to catch and if I missed it I'd miss my ferry and if I missed my ferry I'd be stuck in Aberdeen  for anther couple of days. (There are worse things I know , although Aberdeen is an expensive place to be stuck!) I was promised I'd be a priority and I waited again in increasing agitation as time ticked by and no taxi appeared. When I rang again after another 15 minutes had passed and prospects of catching the train were receding very quickly indeed  I was told rather rudely that if I was in that much of a hurry I should flag down a passing black cab (because yes! they regularly cruise up and down Maryhill Road on the off chance of getting a fare - not) 

Well, long story short, I did get home, although I had to pay for another train ticket which didn't amuse me at all, and really it will be a cold day in hell before I say anything sweeping about smooth journeys and non-problematic transport again. 

I compounded all this by reflecting yesterday - I mean, I didn't even say it out loud for goodness sake - how amazing it was that I had never spilt my coffee or tea over my knitting, given that my knitting lives in a selection of bags at the end of the sofa and  my drinks are usually placed on the arm just above them. 

I think I don't even have to spell out where that one went ...

Project 60 - Number 60

And in a spirit of Gaelic circularity, the last one, like the first one, is trying an unfamiliar foodstuff. How good is that? Well, it's  a bit artificial really, because I am writing it up out of sequence, although not by much, and it gives the whole project a note of closure that pleases me. 

So, yup, blue cheese. I don't know how many times in my life I have said in relation to a cheeseboard or a ploughman's lunch 'Please leave off the  blue cheese'. Which I did because I knew I didn't like blue cheese. Even though I'd never tried it. Because in what other context do you deliberately eat mouldy food, for goodness sake? 

So, on the infamous business class flight to Stockholm, the cheese they served was Stilton, and I thought I would try it. I was still quite hungry after a less than thrilling starter and main, and I thought maybe the bits in between the mould would be alright. So I gave it a go. See that little gouge in the photograph? That's the size of the piece I put in my mouth. 

It was disgusting. (other opinions are doubtless available.) 

Overall, the trying new food thing hasn't been a huge success. Way way back there was the green olive tapenade, and then there was the kangaroo and the crocodile, and none of those are ever likely to feature in my diet on a regular basis. Not that I would know where to source crocodile or 'roo while living on Orkney. I suppose the beaver tails were a bit of a success, and the north African meal too, but generally I wonder if I'm too old to take on new food. Maybe my taste buds have petrified. But at least I tried. 

Anyway, tomorrow I head for the Central Belt for almost a week. Basically it's for the last two bits of research that have to be done elsewhere, but that's Thursday. The rest of the time is shaping up to be a whirl of meeting people and going places; some in Embra and some in Glasgow. I will be shattered by the time I get back next Saturday night. On the other hand I should have some interesting stuff to write about. 

Project 60 - No 59 Happy Valley

There are two things that 'everyone knows' about Orkney. The first is that it's flat. The second is that there are no trees.

Neither of these things is in fact true.

We sometimes see cyclists who have come here on holiday via the Gills Bay/St Margaret's Hope ferry crossing. They have obviously bought into the Orkney is Flat theory. They are therefore totally unprepared for the very steep hill they need to negotiate to get out of St Margaret's Hope and on the road to everywhere else. Poor things. We feel especially sorry for them when it's raining. 

And there are trees. There is not, to be fair, a vast swathe of natural woodland. It's not, after all, Perthshire, which I understand markets itself, for good and obvious reasons, as Big Tree Country. (Well obvious anyway, upon reflection, not so sure about the good) But there are several small areas of woodland scattered over Orkney which people have deliberately planted to improve bio-diversity, support wildlife, especially woodland birds, or because they just like trees. 

One of these places is a woodland garden started many years ago by a man named Ernest Hammond. He's dead now, and the council have take over his garden and declared it an official  nature reserve and it's supported by a small charity called, unsurprisingly, The Friends of Happy Valley.

I'd never been. The Other Half had once, when I was away who knows where,  on a trip with the Burray and South Ronaldsay Garden Club. Given that it must be at least ten years since we left that, that's a long time ago. Which may explain why he had so much trouble finding it .... Anyway we kept saying 'we must go to Happy Valley' and a couple of Sundays ago  we finally got our act together and , instead of coming straight home after the service in the Cathedral, we set off for Happy Valley instead. 

It did take us two goes to find it, which may be a metaphor for our marriage, or indeed, just life in general. It is  best to go in late spring/early summer for the daffodils and the bluebells but we're just not that organised. In any case the big draw for me was a real actual stream. 

Because I miss rivers. We don't have rivers on Orkney and in fact streams, as opposed to drainage ditches are few and far between and given that rivers are my favourite natural features, preferably complete with waterfalls, it's a lack in a place I live. Could be worse. Son number 1 favours deserts, of the sand and rock variety,  and they're in pretty short supply in Canada. 

I enjoyed my stroll along the side of the stream and through the shelter of the trees. It was lovely. I took lots of photos, a few of which I've put up below. And next year, if we get ourselves organised, we'll go and look at the bluebells. 

Project 60 - Number 58 Plodging* in Orkney

This had been on the list for a while, and I kept putting it off because I thought the water would be too cold. With time running out and a couple of sunny days behind us I finally decided that the day had arrived last Friday

We set off with towel, although not flip-flops sadly, to the beach off the third barrier as the water there is shallower than anywhere else local and therefore in theory would heat up faster. 

I was a bit put off when we walked past this on our search for a suitable place for me to get into the sea

Yeah, nasty looking thing innit? 

But given that the waters round Orkney are quite clear I reckoned I could spot one if it came for me so I took off my socks and shoes and - voila! It has only taken me twelve years of living here to get my feet wet in Orkney seas! 

*Plodging is a north east of England word** for paddling which has stayed with me since childhood. On beaches in Spain and North Africa I have definitely paddled in the Mediterranean, ditto in the Pacific in Australia, but in Orkney, like on the north east coast, it's cold, it takes more will and more effort and so you definitely plodge. 

** not necessarily north east of England exclusively. That's where I know it from, but it may be that people plodge as far south as the Wash and as far west as the beaches of North Wales. 

Some knitting for a change

Remember this?

Well I have finally finished using up one of the balls of wool I got to recompense me for the horror that was some of the Aura chunky.

To wit

I am not a huge fan of knitted bobbles and I'm not a huge fan of the technique of wrapping extra stitches in one row only to drop them the next, mainly because my first, and only previous, try was a bit of a disaster, because I occasionally forgot the wrap bit. 

However I managed to remember to wrap, and to drop, consistently with this which is progress of a sort. The mittens in the pattern had only holes to put your thumbs through so I thought I would be clever and include some thumb covering - how hard could it be? Let's just say that now I know why patterns for mitts with thumbs generally include a thumb gusset! I can thole the bobbles on this since they look a bit like grapes on a vine and there aren't too many of them. 

I finished the wrap ages ago but had let the mitts fester because they were cast off and needed sewing up and sewing up is not  my favourite thing. I have too many things hanging about almost but not quite finished and hopefully I'll get a few of them sorted over the autumn and their attendant bags put away so that I can see more of my study floor. 

A girl can dream! As for the other ball of free yarn, well that will have to wait its turn to get cast on. 

Project 60 No 57 - Kew Gardens

No, I'd never been. Been to London a few times but never got as far as Kew. The National Archives being in Kew and my research not having taken up very much time we decided to go and have a look. 

I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more if it hadn't been so hot. They are very extensive and many of the interesting bits are  a long way from one anther. Also I would have liked to get on the little hop-on, hop-off train that takes you between the interesting bits, but that was obviously not on the OH's agenda. Sadly.

Never mind. The OH had ben there before as a child and I asked him where we should go first. Did I mention what a hot day it was? In which case you might be surprised that he decided the first port of call had to be the palm house. I found a seat and sent him off to look at palms from five continents without me. I am not really very much more interested in plants than I am in food, and if a plant is to catch my attention what it really needs to do is have a flower. It has to be said that palms are a bit of a failure in this respect. It didn't take him long. It was oppressively hot in there. 

Anyway there it is from the outside. Just behind it is the rose garden (flowers, yay!)

and a little way off to the left the water lily house - nice architecture, but the water lilies were a bit meh

We had a bit of a walk and sat under a tree 

that's not the one we sat under, but it's a gloriously red Canadian maple. Sadly the photo doesn't do it justice really. 

 

Then we went to look at the alpine house and rock garden which were both very nice 

After that, which had all taken several hours, we were too hot and uncomfortable to do much more so we had a snack in the café and a nurdle round the gift shop (where I spent a little bit of money, but mainly on other people) and then we went back to the hotel.

While it would have been a much better experience if it hadn't been so hot and humid, I have to say I enjoyed this one. I'd happily go back and look at some of the bits that were just too far away to be reachable when the weather was so unco-operative. Should we ever find ourselves in London and at a loose end. Which happens like, never. 

Project 60 No 56 - Consulting the National Archives

I have been meaning to go to the National Archives, where they keep Army records these days for quite a long time. The plan was always to go at the same time as the OH was summoned to work in that there Lunnon so that the hotel costs would be taken care of and all I would have to pay for  would be my flight costs. Naturally, from the moment I hatched this plot the necessity for the OH to travel to London disappeared.

I needed to go but London is a long and expensive way away so I have put it off and put it off and knew that I couldn't put it off much longer so I have gradually been putting the various bits in place; finding out if they had what I wanted, pre-registering for a temporary ticket, pre-ordering the relevant document etc and when we came back from Stockholm we booked a couple of nights at the Terminal 5 hotel and put aside the intervening day for the trip to Kew.

Once again, as at the Aberdeen University Library, I met with noting but very helpful and pleasant people at the National Archives; from the person who explained where to find my seat and my document, via the very nice young man whose job is to take photographs all day for new readers cards * to the staff in the coffee bar and shop. All were exemplary. 

* He did a great job. I only wish the photo he took could go on my passport instead of the appalling example of the photographer's art that actually graces it. You have never seen anyone looking more like a member of the Living Dead.  

Sadly the document I had gone to see, an Army Unit Diary for the period poor old George was in Salonika, was no help whatsoever. It may be that there is a more local document that would help more, but the staff didn't find anything else in response to my initial e-mail enquiry. This could mean that the thing itself never existed, or has been lost, or is there but has not yet been catalogued. It was frustrating that what I did see was no use, and even more frustrating not to know and to have no way of discovering if something that might help actually exists but is not findable, but I'll just have to live with that. The thing is I had to go, I had to be able to reference the fact that I had gone, and now I can. 

Photos were naturally taken but only outside

As an experience I would highly recommend it. 

Project 60 Number 55 - Flying Business Class.

There was an offer on, otherwise I wouldn't have contemplated it. An offer, to Stockholm, in August and we'd been thinking about going over to see The Magic Flute that month. And the OH was stressing because if we didn't get some serious flying in before the end of September he was going to lose his Bronze status in the British Airways Executive Club and be reduced to being only blue and that of course was not to be contemplated since as everyone knows being blue is Worth Nothing. (I am probably in a similar position, except that my BA Executive Club membership gets reviewed in November at which point I am fairly sure that I will be reduced to blue and actually I am not all that bothered but horses for courses, some people get more exercised about this stuff than others. Anyway we booked it. 

I don't know how much it cost because I would probably have been horrified so I didn't ask, but whatever it was I doubt it was worth it. We are obviously not Business Class material.  Business class still gets fed,, whereas in economy these days if you want to eat and drink on shorter flights you have to buy stuff. They brought a menu round and my first thought was 'oh dear'. As were my second and third thoughts when the food actually came. Here's a thing. I like melon. I like thinly sliced melon. Thinly sliced melon that has been peppered, not so much. I like raspberry dressing with melon. I do not like 'raspberry and seafood' dressing, with or without melon. The main course was chicken with bits stuck in the skin which was fine because I could scrape the skin, and the bits, off.

[The chicken came with gnocchi. I have seen people make gnocchi on a plethora of cooking competitions on the TV. They mutter and complain and stress about how difficult it is to make gnocchi, which should be like little pillows  of silk in the mouth, and how so often a simple error in the prep or the cooking means that they are anything but, and oh dear! will their gnocchi on this occasion turn out alright etc etc. This is often supplemented by the judges on the side-lines chatting amongst themselves and talking up the difficulty of producing perfect gnocchi under competition conditions and how easy it is to go wrong and really, all I want to do is scream at the telly and say  'If they're so bl**dy difficult and it stresses you out so much, why didn't you choose something else to cook?' From this you might infer that the gnocchi we had on BA were not at all like little pillows of silk, and in this you would be quite correct]

We were offered wine with our meal and I asked if they had any rose. The stewardess hesitated and then said 'No. She had had to think because they do have rose available for purchase in economy class, but they don't carry it in business class'. So that was me told. Obviously my tastes are far far too infra dig for business class. 

Coming back I had to ask for an extra plate of cheese as I couldn't eat either of the main lunch courses on offer; a Thai chicken dish or salmon. Since I don't like Thai food and I don't eat fish I was totally stymied and BA certainly made money on me for that leg of the journey.

The only good thing about travelling Business Class is that you get entry to airport lounges, which are small oases of calm and quiet in otherwise noisy and uncomfortable airports - as well as having food, drink and newspapers on tap. They are wonderful places to be, but as far as I know you can pay on the day to use them, which is probably much cheaper than the difference between economy and business fares. 

Would I do it again? I think it would only be really worth it on a long haul flight and that won't ever happen because we can't afford to do it on  long haul flights, which are eye wateringly expensive in the first place. 

Did I say someting about rants?

Here is a photograph which I took in Arlanda airport last week as we waited to collect our luggage.

You will notice the yellow line. You can't actually see that this has printed upon it at intervals the word STOP but it is quite clear if you are actually there. 

This is to keep the carousel clear and prevent that heaving huddle that often forms close to luggage carousels, guaranteeing bruised knees, backpacks in faces, and people tripping over other people's baggage trolleys which are pushed far too close to the belt while Dad wrestles without sufficient space to manhandle what seems like a stupendous amount of luggage off the belt, onto the trolley and then out through the madding crowds towards Mum and two over excited children. 

Generally the yellow line solution works well. It does not obviously work 100% of the time as the photograph attests. What I don't understand is how this gentleman and his family could remain totally unaware of the fact that they were the only people, from a complete planeload of passengers, who had crossed the line and then realise that they shouldn't be there. That is a whole world's worth of social insensitivity right there.

I know the nationality of this little group, but since that may be unconnected with their anti-social  behaviour, and since that behaviour I daresay has no malice behind it, I won't say what it is. 

And yes, Stockholm was great, more later, and Project 60 is almost complete - yay!