Highs and Lows

Andy with friends at his Corbett completion on Sgurr a’Chaorachain


The High

This weekend I attended a momentous event in my favourite part of the whole world. My pal Andy completed his round of Corbetts on a mountain on the Applecross peninsula. Corbetts are mountains between 2500 feet and 3000 feet and there are 221 of them dotted all over Scotland and some keen hill walkers, but not me, start working through the list of them after they complete their Munros (hills over 3000 feet).

Andy’s feat is more exceptional than most because he is a postie and has to work most Saturdays, also and most incredibly he can’t drive and has managed to access remote areas using public transport and lifts from his fans.

Applecross has featured before on this site. Normally we have bad weather there but this trip saw cloud smattered blue skies and 360° views towards Skye, Lewis, Kyle, Knoydart, Torridon and even as far as the crowning towers of An Teallach just south of Ullapool. I hate the much misused word awesome, but this experience deserves the title.

Much champagne was drunk on the summit and buckets of red wine and beer washed down the excellent seafood at the Applecross Inn later in the evening.

Colin and I caught up with old friends in the village and enjoyed the hospitality they showed to our friends in the Ochil Mountaineering Club.


The Low

Yesterday I received a letter from the Scottish Book Trust informing me I was not successful in my application for their New Writers Bursary. I am used to receiving rejections for my novel Torque, but somehow this was harder to accept. I was gutted.

I worked hard in the morning to shift my black mood. I knew I had to do something positive. I sent off another submission and that nudged the mood into second place but it crept back in. At lunch time I went to my Pilate's class. That did the trick, not only because of the physical stimulation this gave me but because of this view from the hall. It took my breath away quicker than my class.






Fifty First Timer No.14

Swim in the Sea

I know it is terrible to reach this half century never having swam in the sea, but I am scared of water. It is a miracle I can swim. Deep water is a no go area for me. One of my goals for this year was to complete a triathlon but I realised early on, when I couldn’t stop at the deep end, I had to scratch the idea.

Hong Kong first week was spent at Silver Mine Beach on Lantau. I had no excuse. It took three days for me to work up to this but on an overcast afternoon in between showers I squeezed into my cozzie and headed for the shark protection area. I walked into the semi warm water until it brushed my shoulders then swam, not outwards where I would grow out of my depth, but parallel to the shore.

Everyone told me the buoyancy in the sea would make me feel more secure, not so, all that bouncing around unnerved me. But I was happy enough to keep going for a wee while then I waded towards the beach and sat with the sea lapping up to my neck. The water helped to sooth the multitude of mosquito bites I had accumulated and would continue to collect throughout the holiday.

Silvermine Beach preparing for the Dragon Boat Races

Where have I been?

HONG KONG – that’s where.



It all began with a smooth transfer through the infamous Terminal Five


Hong Kong is a Special Administrative Region consisting of many islands, the biggest and busiest of which is Hong Kong Island, but it also takes in Kowloon and the New Territories on the mainland which stretch from the coast up to the China border.

And what a fabulous place it is. We spent three weeks sampling everything this diverse area has to offer. The town of Mui Wo on the island of Lantau was our perfect first week base. It is tranquil and unique despite being on the other side of a mountain from Hong Kong’s massive International airport, and only a half hour ferry ride from the city.

Second week we moved to Hong Kong Island for a couple of days before heading up into China for a short and fascinating three day trip. On our return we kipped up at the YMCA in Kowloon which gave us a head start in the mornings to explore the New Territories. But more of that later.

There were many things I loved about this holiday. I managed many Fifty First Timers. I also developed a habit of eating with chopsticks. When one night I was presented with a knife and fork I felt weird. But the best bit was the transport. I fell in love with my Octopus Card

The transport system is a model which should be replicated all over the world. An Octopus card is like a credit card you can top up with cash at stations and ferry terminals. With this card you can travel on any form of transport in the region; small island buses, trains, ferries, trams. You can even use it to buy groceries if you run short of cash. Most of the fares are a set fare whether you travel one stop or ten but it doesn’t matter because the fares are pennies. The only exception I found was on the MTR (Mass Transit Railway). Swipe the card to enter the paid area and swipe it again to leave, the card is only reduced by the number of stops travelled. It’s easy.


On Mui Wo everyone travelled by bike to the ferry terminal then hopped over the water to work.

As well as being cheap all the transport runs on time and even the MTR at rush hour was never as crowded as the London Under ground is. And no one rushes, everyone walks because they know that if they miss one train another one will come along in a minute.


The Trams were a treat to ride on

The other thing I noticed was how health and safety conscious everything is. In the MTR stations the train lines are held behind glass panels that only slide open to board passengers, something that only occurred to me when I read in the local paper about a boy in Tokyo who pushed a stranger onto a train track only because he ‘wanted to kill someone’.

Because of the geography of the area the Hong Kong people have been plagued with landslides. Because of this they civil engineering group have a continuous programme of making slopes safe. Their slogan is ‘Safe Slopes Saves Lives’. Each slope is registered and has its own number. Unfortunately we discovered while we were there that not all slopes have made the grade. More later.

A trip doon the water

Wemyss Bay Station

Fifty First Timer No.13
Didn’t we have a lovely time the day we went to Rothesay.

Rothesay - one time holiday destination for almost everyone living in the west of Scotland. The town nestles on the eastern shore of the small Isle of Bute in the Clyde Estuary. And I have never been there!

Two of my writing cohorts from our group The Mitchell Sisters agreed to accompany me even thought they are both seasoned Rothesayites. The transport is straightforward. One return ticket covers the train to Weymss Bay, ferry to Rothesay, bus and entrance fee to Mount Stuart house.

The Victorian style station at Weymss Bay is a give away for what is in store. On the island’s grand sea-front, houses big enough for family and servants, tell of rich Glasgow merchants escaping the grime of the city to this gentler shores. Later the working classes cottoned on to this gem in the Clyde and paddle steamers transported hoards ‘doon the water’ to spend the Glasgow Trades fortnight at the seaside.

Sadly this trend died out with the advent of cheap packages to Spain and the town became the tired seaside haunt that is evident up and down the coasts of the UK. But there is work afoot to change that. Building work at the ferry terminal hints at a turning tide for the tired old lady of the Clyde and the town is close enough to Glasgow to be a desirable weekend bolthole.




The Mitchell Sisters

Our destination is >Mount Stuart House, the ancestral home of the present Marquis of Bute, racing driver Johnny Dumfries.

I had heard that a Mark Neville exhibition is being staged there and was keen to see his latest project. Mark Neville is the photographer who took photos of working class people in Port Glasgow, a depressed shipbuilding town and gifted each resident exclusive copies of the resultant coffee table book.

The Mount Stuart exhibition focuses on the rural, agricultural classes and with the use of different lighting techniques he captures stunning images of these hard working folk which is evocative of Russian portraits.

The guided tour of Mount Stuart House lasts an hour. Two memorable sights from that visit are the black calcified marble on the stairs, where fossilised sea creatures are captured for eternity and the discovery of more striking photos; a quick trip to the toilets reveals a hidden set of photos taken during the Great War when the house was used as a Naval Hospital. The setting for the hospital is grand and unique but the suffering is captured in the wounded sailor’s eyes.



Mount Stuart Gardens

Terrifying times two

The Inaccessible Pinnacle


The Inaccessible Pinnacle (the In. Pin) is the hardest munro in Scotland and you can see from the picture why that is. All hill walkers have to endure this torture before they can complete their round of 284 munros. I climbed this intimidating beast two years ago and I have no intention of doing it again. On that occasion I left my camera behind thinking I would have my hands full enough, so it was a treat to be a spectator at this momentous event.

Eight of us headed up the hill to meet this brute. The walk up the ridge of Scurr Dearg is terrifying enough for me. The Skye Cullin Ridge is the most exhilarating place in the world, but also the scariest. The photo shows three climbing the ridge and Colin abseiling off having completed the climb.

You can experience some of the drama of the In. Pin by viewing the excellent Gaelic film Seachd:The Inaccessible Pinnacle.


I think this is the ridge we walked along, but I cant be sure; I had my eyes closed most of the time.



High Wire

Last week I visited the Centre For Contemporary Art (CCA) in Glasgow. This venue has the best seafood chowder ever, but they also have pretty exciting shows. The exhibit showing was High Wire by Catherine Vass. Vass's film installation documents a high wire walk; 150 foot-long wire slung 265 feet up across the tops of three of the Red Road Flats. These flats are evidence of the idealistic housing developments in Glasgow in the 1960 and are now due for demolition. They also feature in the fantastic Andrea Arnold film Red Road.
The installation was filmed in July 2007 using four cameras and viewpoints. I remember hearing the walker, Didier Pasquette being interviewed on local radio the day of the walk and thinking, as the gale force wind waffled down the microphone, this man is mad!

I won't spoil the ending, but will confirm that this is one of the most exciting art installations I have ever witnessed.

High Wire is on at the CCA until Saturday 24th May. Check out the seafood chowder too.

The power of good writing

A Play, a Pie and a Pint

On Friday I bussed it into Glasgow to watch some lunchtime theatre at Oran Mhor. I may have featured A Play, A Pie and A Pint before but it is always worth a plug. I made an extra effort last week because the play was written by Denise Mina so it was sure to be a winner. I saw her first play Ida Tamson performed there last year and was gripped by the story of a granny squaring up to a Glasgow hard man.

Last week’s play was A Drunk Woman Looks at the Thistle which is an adaptation of Hugh MacDairmid’s poem A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle.
When I arrived at Oran Mhor half an hour before the box office door opened, I was stunned to see a growing queue. I was informed that the play’s star was Karen Dunbar, a popular Scottish comic actress and that The Herald had awarded the play five stars.

It lived up to its reputation. Karen gave a virtuoso performance of this epic poem which analyses the Scottish identity and psyche and put a few hypocritical noses in the audience out of joint. It is a piece of Scottish writing that is well overdue and I applaud not only Karen Dunbar for performing it with such energy and fun, but Denise Mina for having the guts to write it in the first place.

A mention should also be made of Alison Peebles who directed the play. Every Alison Peebles play I have had the pleasure to watch has been executed with perfection.

You can read the script here, but be warned the language is strong and it is not for the faint hearted.


Just read

It’s been yonks since I featured a ‘Just Read’. That isn’t because I haven’t been reading; it is because either the book hasn’t been worth mentioning or because I have been reading tons of research material that no one else would be bothered about.


Brazzaville Charms




One research book is however worth a mention. It is Brazzaville Charms by Cassie Knight, subtitled ‘Magic and Rebellion in The Republic of Congo’.

I was fascinated by this book, firstly because, I am ashamed to admit, I knew nothing about The Congo and didn’t realise there was Belgium Congo and French Congo, which is pretty dim of me because I have stamps from both colonies.

The second major aspect about this book was that it made me angry and the more I read the angrier I became and will remain. Angry about Colonialism; angry about how oil and power seem more important than people; angry about poorly managed forestry and the destruction of the second largest rainforest in the world.
Angry that the world can sit back and watch oil, and forestry companies conspire with the Congolese government to allow a resource rich country remain one of the poorest in the world.

The writer may exert a certain amount of bias in this book but the facts are staggering in their simplicity. She uses a clear and unpretentious style to make her case of exploitation of a people and country she is passionate about.

Read it and feel as enraged as I was. Everyone needs to feel this anger before something positive is achieved here.


Cat’s Eyes by Margaret Atwood was also a research book but I would probably have worked my way round to reading it eventually.



Cat’s Eyes is a story of girls bullying girls and how this situation can affect all parties’ life choices. The story swaps back and forth in the life of one of the girls, Elaine. As an adult she returns to Toronto where she grew up and was tortured by her little class mate Cordelia. Although Elaine is now a successful artist she is still haunted by Cordelia, and this visit peels open old wounds.

The descriptions of the bullying are as subtle as real life girl bullying is, but there are a few episodes that bordered on criminal behaviour and I feel might have been better left out.

As always Atwood spins a good story with solid, well crafted prose. Every time I read one of her books I learn something about my own writing. She is a master.

All the fours - 444

Happy Birthday Wullie


Today is the four hundred and forty fourth anniversary of the birth of William Shakespeare.
I first encountered him when I was given Julius Caesar in first year at school. I thought it was rubbish and couldn't understand a word. I blame the teacher, who failed to point out the subtleties and fun in his work and that this great bard added more new words to the English language than almost anyone else, but maybe the teacher didn't get it either.

In second year The Merchant of Venice needed no translation, I was mesmerised by Portia and thrilled by the ending.

Macbeth was next and this time the school took us to a performance at the newly opened Macrobert Centre in Stirling (I am showing my age here!). We had great fun shouting out the name of the play to the cast while they tried to perform; it was all very juvenile.

They kept the best till last and gave us Hamlet for 'O' Level. I can't remember the play for the Highers, I suspect it wasn't Shakey.

I still have the books in my bookcase, I must have 'forgotten' to hand them back to the school along with the copy of '1984'. Even at that early age I had a tendency for hoarding books, but that is another story.