Back at the cottage

Well here I am at the cottage, feeling very happy with my journey and arrival. The bus from Inverness dropped us off at the pier, and I set off up the hill with my wheelie case. My plan had been to unpack at the cottage and then go out to get groceries, but I decided just to get my groceries on the way so that I wouldn’t have to go out again. This turned out to be a good call, because by the time I arrived at the cottage it had started raining, and this continued throughout the evening. I used the “waking up the cottage” instructions (a laminated sheet kindly left for us by the previous owners) and soon the cottage was warm and cosy. I made my dinner and decided to watch a film.

I chose “Phantom of the Open,” a comedy about golf starring Mark Rylance, and started watching it. Or so I thought. After about fifteen minutes I realised that it wasn’t a comedy and there was no sign of Mr Rylance. It was definitely about golf though, so I thought that maybe the actors in it were younger versions of the main characters and that it would jump ahead in time, something like that. How wrong I was. It turned out that with a slip of the finger I had accidentally selected a similarly titled film “The Open,” starring Jack Eve about a young golfer whose caddy has died tragically and who meets a girl who encourages him to look to the future and try again to qualify for the Open. It was quite a sweet film, rather melancholy in places and very much a love song to the game of golf. I kept watching it until the end. 

I’m now tucked up in bed, all alone in the cottage with no James and no cats - it’s very quiet!

On the way to Ullapool

I’m on the bus from Inverness to Ullapool, the last leg of my journey today. I got the 10.10 a.m. train from Glasgow Queen Street to Inverness this morning. James (who is organising a club hill walk on Sunday so will be joining me after that) very kindly gave me a lift into town and everything went smoothly, I purchased a coffee from a stall before I boarded the train. I have to say that although the renovated Queen Street looks very smart, it has very few facilities compared to Central Station. The train journey was great; the train was quite busy but I had my wee reserved seat at a table beside the window so I was quite happy. I read my book, looked at the scenery, and chatted to a lovely lady from Ardrossan called Annette. 

When I arrived at Inverness I took my time getting off the train because I had loads of time before my onwards journey by bus, and then I looked for the bus station. I asked a lady for directions and she insisted on accompanying me to show me the way; it wasn’t until we were walking along that she told me that she was carrying a bag with two half bottles of wine, which she explained was intended to cut down on her drinking. She told me some things about her life and it was so sad, my heart went out to her. Life can be very difficult. 

At the bus station I had plenty of time for lunch in the café before catching the 3 p.m. bus. We are now barrelling along towards Ullapool, hooray! 

En Route to Normal

We got tickets to see Bill Bailey for Marjory and Forrest’s joint Christmas present - in 2020! Needless to say the event was postponed at least twice due to Covid restrictions, but last night the event finally arrived. I have always enjoyed Bill Bailey’s eccentric mix of music and comedy but I had forgotten just how good he is. It’s really hard to describe; he tells really rambling stories - the one about snails in Indonesia springs to mind - and then segues into one of a huge variety of musical genres. For example a Kraftwerk-style German version of The Wheels on the Bus, which by verse 3 reflects on the futility of life. Or a song by a Cockney Sherpa. Or a flight of fancy about a classist Victorian version of Love Island where most of the contestants die of diseases such as typhoid or cholera. He played rock and classical music, using keyboard, guitars, bells, horns and even the spooky sounding theremin. There’s no point in looking for a theme to all this because it’s more like a musical stream of consciousness, but it was highly entertaining. Anyway, we all enjoyed it, even more so thanks to the excellent seats that James had booked for us very near the front of the stalls. 

Silverburn

Yesterday we had a few errands to run in the West End and then we were going to go to the cinema in Silverburn Shopping Centre. The West End bit went well and we went for a rather lovely springtime walk around Kelvingrove Park. But things took a downturn when we got to Silverburn, once memorably described by Andrew B in his childhood as “the most boring place on earth.” We had to pop into three or four shops and James, who thinks nothing of climbing five mountains in a day, quickly became despairing and exhausted. He’s actually a very lucky man that this is a rare occasion for him, because I’m not a keen shopper myself and usually go shopping by myself for speed and efficiency. By the time we got to the cinema he collapsed into a chair while I was buying our coffees in Costa, muttering about the horrifying slow pace of walking in a shopping centre. 

The film cheered him up. We had booked “The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent” which is a bizarre but fairly funny film starting Nicholas Cage as Nicholas Cage. He is offered a million dollars to attend a super-fan’s birthday party in Mallorca, and of course when he gets there all sorts of complications ensue. It’s no classic but it had us and the rest of the audience laughing out loud. I enjoy making connections between celebrities and I noticed that Cage’s daughter is played by Lily Sheen, daughter of Michael Sheen and Kate Beckinsale, and granddaughter of Richard Beckinsale who died so young and so long ago. We then went back downstairs for a quick meal in Zizzi’s where the service was good but the garlic bread was disappointing. 

A Saucerful of Secrets

We have just had a very enjoyable evening in Edinburgh with Gordon. We started off with a tasty dinner in Topolabamba and then strolled the few steps to the Usher Hall, to see Nick Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets, playing the very early music of Pink Floyd. Eagle-eyed blog readers might recall that James and I have seen this band before, in September 2018. 

Our seats were very high up in the theatre, steeply banked for a great view. Again the band included ex Spandau Ballet guitarist Gary Kemp, long term collaborator Guy Pratt (who mentioned that he is Richard Wright’s ex son-in-law) and of course Pink Floyd drummer Nick Mason himself, looking on good form for seventy-eight years old. I enjoyed the music and recognised most of it from James playing his Pink Floyd albums over the years. Pink Floyd fan-boys James and Gordon of course knew it intimately. 

I certainly recognised the lyrics of the last encore “Bike” because James sings them around the house:

“I know a mouse and he hasn’t got a house, I don’t know why I call him Gerald. He’s getting rather old, but he’s a good mouse.” 

3rd May 1922

One hundred years ago today, my dad Jim Russell was born. Naturally, I phoned Jennifer this morning and we had a nice chat reminiscing about our father. We were very lucky to know him. He was a remarkable man, and a loving father. It’s twenty-five years since he died, and although I should be grateful that he lived into his seventies I do feel very short-changed, because he was a fit and healthy man who should have lived much longer if his life hadn’t been shortened by cancer. I would have liked to spend more time with him, and for him to have seen his grandsons grow up. He was one of those people who’s always interested in others, and Jennifer and I benefited from his wisdom, his humour and above all his love. 

But a hundred years ago he was a brand new baby. He had a Mum and Dad who loved him and a two-year-old big sister called Margaret. He was born at home in a tenement in Coatbridge which his Mum kept as clean and neat as a new pin. His extended family, who mainly worked in the coal mines of Lanarkshire, lived nearby. His life was all ahead of him.

Happy birthday Dad. 

Girl Goin’ Nowhere

Ashley McBryde had the audience eating out of her hand last night at the O2 in Glasgow. When she sang “And where they said I’d never be is exactly where I am” the crowd went wild as they sang along. And rightly so. She is a great singer and a wonderful performer, and she made us all feel that she was so happy to be touring the UK again after the postponement due to Covid. It was one of those special evenings when you feel as if you are part of a crowd that is in the right place at the right time.

Heather and Ewan had kindly asked me to join them for dinner at Amarone before the concert, and insisted on treating me, before we walked the remarkably short journey across town to Eglinton Street. When we arrived we were told that we had different types of tickets; Heather and Ewan were downstairs and I was sent upstairs to the balcony. I did ask the security lady if I could accompany them but was rather strictly told no! So upstairs I went and managed to get a seat with a rather excellent view. I missed being with my friends but I was glad that I had a seat. I have spent plenty of time standing at concerts, and indeed dancing, but I do like to have a seat if possible so that I can sit down if I get tired, or between acts. We were plenty early so as I waited first for the support act (Austin Jenkes, who was very good) and then after he finished, another half hour until Ashley McBryde came on, I enjoyed doing some online shopping for summer dresses!