Travelling hopefully…

Monday this week found me heading back to the mainland, ahead of a trip to London on Wednesday (I like to be on time). This was not my usual trip, since high winds had prevented the Lord of the Isles from its usual dock at Mallaig on Sunday, diverting instead at the last minute to Oban, and this was the planned arrangement for Monday, too, since the winds were at least as high again. Going into Oban was a new route for me – I know Oban well (it has a good distillery with a generous tour) – but I had never before travelled into Oban from Lochboisdale and, seasoned ferry traveller that I am, and fortified early on against the swell by one of CalMac’s black pudding and fried egg rolls (and a granola fruits of the forest yoghurt, in the interests of a balanced diet of course), I was looking forward to the trip.

In particular, I was looking forward to catching a glimpse of Tobermory’s famous painted houses lining its waterfront: the route into Oban flows through the slim Sound of Mull separating Mull from the Morvern peninsula and I was anticipating being able to take a few good shots, especially with the weather clearing rapidly to blue as we entered the Sound, from a cloudy grey and misty Uist, and with increasingly good quality light. In reality, the Sound is a lot wider than it looks on the map and Tobermory’s harbour turns out to be well shielded from the channel by a rocky outcrop: distracted also by a church on the Morvern side* located typically remotely, i.e. with no obvious access, I didn’t see the waterfront until the very last moment and then only in retrospect, and for literally a few seconds through a slim channel to the south-east before the houses disappeared from view (serves me right for looking forward only to a glimpse!). Still, here’s my best shot:

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Oban is somewhat handier for Perth than Mallaig, being almost 50 miles closer and a journey more or less due east along the A85 (although I was travelling (initially) by the lower branch of the West Highland rail line down to Glasgow and thus my journey took me along two sides of a triangle. The joys of public transport…) Nevertheless, the question of financial ‘compensation’ arose given that CalMac provide some sort of refund where travel arrangements are disrupted, albeit for technical breakdowns. I did lose the return portion of an advance, non-refundable Citylink ticket from Mallaig to Perth which I booked last time I left Perth’s fair city but, aside of that, I don’t think I’d be bothering even were I eligible.

Firstly, the notion of ‘compensation’ for public transport ‘failures’ is a peculiarly Tory (specifically Majorite) policy which sits very oddly with the ethos of the delivery of a public service (and which also ends up starving public services of the financial resources for improvement, thus increasing the likelihood of future failures). People on public transport try very hard to deliver me from A to B and I’m usually very grateful for their efforts and their hard work. The ‘right’ to financial compensation is also a highly individualistic response to what is ultimately – and which needs to remain – a collective problem, and that ain’t no solution at all.

Secondly, I might accept the notion of compensation – in general – where it entails some actual inconvenience – but delivering me closer to my actual destination (and, ultimately, some 20 or so minutes quicker than my original route would have done) is stretching the definition of ‘inconvenience’ (pace the lost bus ticket). Furthermore, I think I’m also pretty grateful for those who decide that the challenges of docking a sizable ferry boat safely in Mallaig is potentially more traumatic than it’s worth when the wind is gusting to over 40mph (the approach to Mallaig harbour along the rocky shoreline ordinarily leaves me wondering whether actually jumping over the side and wading ashore, surely getting no more than my knees wet, is a seriously viable option – it looks no more than about 70 yards from ship to shore).

And, thirdly, seasoned traveller that I am, I’ve always taken the view that the journey to arrive at a destination is worthwhile in itself – that travelling is not a means to an end but an opportunity for enjoyment in and of itself. This was a new route and, therefore, an opportunity to experience something new. Travel stoically, and with a good book, is a good motto – and Madeleine Bunting’s esoteric, thought-provoking search for a definition of home, not least in a time of nationalisms, is a terrific companion, not least on this journey (if here undertaken somewhat in reverse).

So, no, I don’t think I’d be claiming ‘compensation’, thank you very much.

So, then – Perth (one more time). And just a day too late to join Sunday’s counter-demo against the SDL, which I would absolutely have done had I been here at the right time. Fascist b&stards. Not in my Perth.

Much later edit: It was St. Columba’s Chapel, on the Drimnin Estate, originally erected in 1838 and restored just over five years ago.

Things I’ll miss about Perth…

The sun having not quite yet set sees me still in Perth, continuing to pack boxes with useful stuff and filling PKC’s recycling dumpsters with my rather less useful stuff. Following my previous post about missing bits of Perth, here’s a slightly indulgent post listing a small selection of things in this same direction (and avoiding the rather more obvious touristy stuff you can get up to in Perth’s fair city):

1. The Kirkside. Perth’s not blessed with really great pubs but this is a gem. Now with beers from Perth’s Inveralmond Brewery, including occasionally Thrappledouser, which featured in a BBC quiz on ‘delicious but faintly ridiculous beer names‘, there’s good beer and good company – and Tina and the current owners, and Geoff and Michael before them, alongside the staff and the regulars, have always offered friendship as well as being really good neighbours.

2. Marek and Magda and staff at Cafe Tabou for top quality food and drink and customer service, and for delightful anticipation every time I step in. And for Innis and Gunn on draught.

3. Terrific curries – especially the Murgh Handi – and top traditional service (including lemon towels – much appreciated!) from Ifty and Imran, the extremely friendly front of house people, of Nawaab (a fine family restaurant located in a beautiful building, too). Food served with a flourish and a sense of occasion. Good luck, guys.

4. Pizzas from Duo‘s wood-fired oven (and Old Engine Oil, too, with an ITK recommendation from The Bluffer’s Guide to Beer).

(Perth, being a member of the Cittaslow / slow food movement, does have really good restaurants!)

5. Perth’s wonderful floral displays, especially at the top of the wonderfully-named Needless Road just outside the city, and all around the city centre. Even in late summer, the old, and loved, City Hall is still beautifully adorned:

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6. The view as the evening sun shines on the red sandstone of the building which now houses Katy’s Company bridal shop (and formerly Kippen Campbell, solicitors) and which is properly known as the Kirk Session House of St. Johns, built in 1910 (the Session House would be the place where the church elders gathered to govern the affairs of the Church and, perhaps, to collect funds for the poor. The reference in this link to the Session House being used to keep a watch over the graveyard is also interesting although, in Perth’s history, the graveyard had long gone by 1910. It may of course have been part of the function of any previous Session House located on the same spot, or otherwise nearby.)

7. The rather lovely tune that the Carillon at the historic St. John’s Kirk plays every day at 3pm (I’ll be missing the 8am alarm call followed by a bottom-heavy and somewhat ponderous Greensleeves rather less, though).

Speaking of which, here are just a couple of other things I’ll not miss:

1. Trudging across town, overloaded plastic carrier bags in hands struggling to contain various items of glass, plastic and paper, past some no doubt bemused shoppers and tourists, to do my recycling. It’s not a long walk – probably about half a mile distance from my flat – but PKC really do need to get recycling initiatives properly sorted out for us town centre residents, in the absence of which it’s certainly not easy being green.

2. The sights and sounds of plastic rubbish bags, guts spilling out after well-targeted attacks by assorted gulls and crows, when walking through the city streets early on residual rubbish collection days (Tuesdays and Fridays). PKC absolutely need to get that sorted, too.

Perth’s been good to me. I’ll be back – not least for one more trip in the middle of next month – but, after that, more likely only as a visitor rather than a resident. Exit (pursued by a double-headed eagle).

Sunset on Perth

IMG_20170818_204322Sunset on Friday night, taken with my low-pixel smartphone (hence the grainy, somewhat impressionistic approach) just before quarter to nine, looking west along South Street, Perth (South Street runs east-west; neither is it the most southerly road in Perth’s grid system; and it leads to the middle of Perth’s three bridges over the Tay. There must be a reason for this name, although I’ve never yet been able to establish it…).

I am currently in Perth and will be here for the immediate future as I have just managed to sell my flat, courtesy of the hard-working folks at Next Home, and there’s a lot of stuff (an awful lot, given that administration of my paperwork has never been my strong point) to pack up and shift out (I’m expecting record tonnes of paper recycling being achieved by Perth in this quarter!). On top of quite a bit of incoming editing workload, in addition to two major ongoing projects, I’m going to have my work cut out over the next couple of weeks. I bought the flat at the tail end of 2008 and, in terms of central Perth prices for flats, as well as in terms of economics, it’s been pretty much a lost decade (even if not one of lost equity) – although my story might well have been a little different had PKC got on with redeveloping City Hall (which my flat overlooks, and which was key to the original decision to purchase it) rather than wasting much of the intervening period fighting Historic Scotland over its demolition. Now those plans are – at long last – starting to crystallise, with the decision as to which architect to go with being announced last Wednesday, I wish the new owners better luck with their investment!

Since the sale, I’ve had many people question whether I’ll miss the place – and I will, I guess, although I’m not sure it’s possible to miss a building, only the people and memories that have populated it and given it life. By my reckoning, my flat in Perth is the tenth place I’ve lived in and built memories in during my life (of 53 years, and counting) and, being well underway with the eleventh, I do wonder how many more there’ll be. Certainly I’ll be missing Perth (and city centre living), and Southern Fried, but I’ve been living away from here now for a year, and people change, and move on; and it’s the right time to finish off this particular chapter and continue actively writing the new one – in which direction, of course, the sale proceeds will (hopefully quite soon) come in very handy.

In the meantime, if anyone does have a use for Red Dwarf VHS tapes, do give me a shout…