Sunday, 12 January 2025

Blog Analysis - 2024


Revisiting my favourite Torridonian balcony summit in 2024

I started blogging in 2009 after I retired, initially to inform my son of what was happening at home when he called in at internet cafes on his round-the-world trip. The blog has since grown into a log of all the Munros and Corbetts, some of my long-distance walks, holiday trips, eulogies for lost friends, places in the UK and Europe, and a record of political shenanigans over the 15 years. There are 950 posts and another 40 or so are waiting for completion as I search for old photos or find the right words to capture some thoughts and events. It is a timeline of happenings and thoughts with photos to prompt my memories as l drift into the era of baby boomers wallowing. 

For most of the past ten years, the traffic on the blog has been steady, with an average of 30 -50 hits per day, about 12,000 hits per annum. Two-thirds of those are from the UK and another 20% from the USA, presumably mainly Google keeping up with the latest postings. Other views were typically from France, Germany, Canada, Netherlands and Ireland. Ukraine and Russia kept a close eye on the UK but they have largely stopped since the onset of the Ukraine war. This last couple of years traffic has skyrocketed mainly from Singapore and Hong Kong. There is no indication of which posts they visit and the presumption must be that they are bots, Israel visits also fall into this category although they are at a far lower level. 

There have been over 260.000 hits although in the last couple of years, bots have probably added 60,000 or so hits. I occasionally check what is being read, there is no obvious pattern. It is an esoteric collection of my mumblings. Over the past year when I  posted 70 times, I was pleased that the most read 2024 posts covered all types of posts, the most read dozen are listed in ranked order below.

1.  A grand day out in Edinburgh Local Government

2.  Lurg Mhor and Bidein a' Coire Sheasgaich  Munros

3.  Desolation Democracy   Politics

4.  What about local government? Local Government

5.  Sunday Morning on the wee Ben  Trossachs

6.  Blencathra   Lake District

7.  The Crow Trap  Home 

8.  Scottish Democracy: Time for a Reset   Politics

9.  An Alphabetic Legacy of the Tory Years  Politics

10. Universities: the facts about fiction  Economics

11. London: Home of the Money Tree  London

12. Buchaille Etive Beag  Munros

Over the 15-year life of the blog, the all-time top four posts also cover a range of themes.

1.  The Top Forty Munros   Munros

2. GR20 Corsica  Long Walks

3. Strathclyde Regional Council, ashes to ashes  Local Government

4. Ronas Hill and da Lang Ayre     Shetland

These are followed by the West Highland Way, the Aonach Eagach, Vienna and a couple of Eulogies. 

Is it worth blogging? Well yes, even if only for the selfish ability to revisit and remember the things and events that have captured my interest in Q4. The rest is for others to judge.

The long and lonely downhill road of retirement

Wednesday, 8 January 2025

Ice Cold on Gullipen and Lime Craig

The bench on Lime Craig where my phone spent the night

The icy cold weather has persisted since the turn of the year. Unlike the south and north of Scotland, the Trossachs have been largely snow-free, although above 200 metres the ground has been covered by powder snow that is now crystallised from the night frosts. January can easily lull you into a litany of excuses for not going out but I have managed to go out every day climbing the micro hills and keeping my step count ticking along. As well as the Whangie, I have climbed Ben Gullipen and Lime Craig three times and had three walks in the Torrie Forest on days when either fog or nightfall made the trails to the hills dangerous on iced paths. 

The glazing of the paths first thing in the morning on pristine blue sky days has meant that my trail shoes have been ice skates with no edges. On some days it was -5°C when I set out although the wind chill was only minor in the gentle breeze. The views were perfect, and as everyone I met agreed, winter on these days provides the very best walking conditions. There are two types of January blues, those that put you in the doldrums and these weather windows that lift you out of the doldrums.

I lost my phone yesterday during a late afternoon jaunt up Lime Craig although I did not realise until I searched for it to check on a delivery after returning home. I returned to the car park at Braeval where on getting down from the hill I had chatted to a couple who had converted an ex-army military landrover into a camper van. They were about to spend their first night in their Heath Robinson mobile home in the forestry car park. I figured I may have dropped my phone whilst sauntering back from them to my car so drove back out immediately, borrowed a torch from the Land Rover man and made a 15-minute search with no result. I decided to return at first light and retrace my descent of the previous evening. As I reached the summit with no sign of my phone a young couple were leaving. I asked if they had seen a phone. "It is on the bench where you must have left it," they replied sounding pleased but not as happy and relieved as I was. 

The previous evening I had missed several phone calls, a WhatsApp message telling me the code to enter a Zoom meeting and my bus ticket to Glasgow for tomorrow. I realised my total dependency on the smartphone for almost every aspect of life: tracker, diary, newspaper, maps, photos, tickets, payment and the receptacle for hundreds of unwanted sales pitches and messages, It is almost impossible to access many services without a smartphone nowadays and that means that an awful lot of older people and technophobes are digitally excluded from society. This could extend to the irascible utterings of Musk, Trump and Farage, an advantage if it were not for the amplification of these by the mainstream media. Why do they persist in repeating the claims of these post-truth luminaries?

Stuc Odhar and Ben Ledi

Loch Venachar and Ben Ledi from Gullipen

Ben Lomond beckons - far right

A little night walk in Torrie Forrest








Thursday, 2 January 2025

The Whangie, Kilpatrick Hills

 

The Whangie

Auchineden Hill (Whangie) summit

2 January, 2025

Ascent:       190 metres
Distance     4 kilometres
Time:          1 hr 16mins

After several days of wind and rain, the mercury dropped, the skies were cobalt, and the wind was a mere whiff. I collected Gregor, and we drove the 5 miles to the Whangie car park, now equipped with a QR code parking meter, the right to roam is now being commercialised.  I occasionally ran up the Whangie on my way home from work in the 1990s and competed in the annual hill race. Today it was a different time and place. The car park was full and families were venturing onto the muddy path coated with snow and frozen hard. 

There were lethal icy patches that required people to tread with some trepidation, although the children seemed happy to start the year with a few falls. My trail shoes gave me a reasonable grip as we walked out to the rock structures that formed the impressive corridor through the Whangie. The views over Loch Lomond and the Arrochar Alps were slightly hazy and the lengthening shadows on the Campsies to the west best captured the magic of a winter's day. 

We climbed from the Whangie to the summit of Auchineden Hill, the two are synonymous, where an austere-looking trig point stood guard. There was an impressive view south to Glasgow that was punctuated by high-rise flats floodlit by the late afternoon sun. Families were still struggling on their ascent as we hurried down from the summit. The well-worn path was already freezing but there were muddy boggy sections and sections of ice to keep us alert. As a short outing, the sun, snow and views made it a grand way to start the year. We were back before 4 pm and watched a few episodes of Slow Horses to tune into the zeitgeist of 2025.

Start of the Whangie climb

West Face of the Whangie

The Whangie Canyon

Glasgow from the Whangie

The Campsies from the Whangie

Sunday, 29 December 2024

Christmas in the Smoke

Royal Courts of Justice


For the past 43 years, I have been home at Christmas apart from two occasions when we took the family skiing to Wengen and Mottaret. This year my culinary skills were declared redundant and I ventured to London to spend Christmas with two of my children and their families. I arrived a few days early to gain some points for child-watching duties to allow some time out for busy parents. The next day I went foraging for some late presents in central London. I passed the Royal Courts of Justice where several mini-demonstrations were taking place and then succumbed to the attractions of Somerset House where the Impressionist Room in the Courtauld Institute was virtually free of other visitors. I could revel in the exhibits including some post-impressionist paintings by Roger Fry of the Bloomsbury Group. 

Shopping called and I drifted through Covent Garden and Soho and hit the crowds skedaddling along Oxford Street. I had some food at John Lewis and explored some Christmas offers before indulging myself by joining the Christmas throngs in Selfridges. Formula 1 cars mingled with Middle Eastern shoppers, who seemed non-plussed by prices as ridiculous as cryptocurrencies. I escaped and took a look at the M&S department store next door. Angela Rayner had created a stooshie by giving permission to demolish it, a listed building, but I tended to agree with her. 

It was time to buy something so I wiggled my way through Mayfair, pausing to look at the old American Embassy with the adjacent Grosvenor Square providing lots of space for demonstration, maybe the reason for the strange decision to relocate to Battersea. The bookshop in Piccadilly sated my shopping habits and I left with a good haul of books before heading back home. 

The next day, Simon had procured tickets for QPR v PNE, my first visit to Loftus Road and the first game I had seen for three years. I was pleasantly surprised by the intimate, ageing but comfortable stadium that had more atmosphere than many of the newer grounds that have been constructed in recent years. The sound system was at full volume and QPR's goalkeeper from the 1980s, Phil Parkes, was given legend status. He had been the player of the year in 1986 to the chagrin of Stan Bowles who had a stand named after him and seats installed instead. It was the year that QPR had their best-ever season, coming second in the old First Division. The game was not the best and despite PNE taking an early lead, justice was served in the second half when QPR scored a couple of goals. I have my worries about whether PNE can avoid relegation but games in the championship have random results, anyone can beat anyone and everyone can lose to everyone.

We nudged our way to Christmas day on raw cold days with visits to local attractions, the market in Herne Hill and walks around the local parks before the arrival of Gregor and Emily on Christmas Eve. They started Christmas day with the Park Run in Dulwich Park, it had its biggest-ever turnout with over a thousand runners including a couple of hundred Santa Clauses and parents running with a bigger fleet of baby buggies than in a Nursery Store. G came third but seemed content, he had not been training much and presents and bubbly were to come after a late breakfast. Meanwhile, my grandson was out pedalling the local bike trails. The excitement of a bike for Christmas is as timeless as ever,

Christmas Day morphed into Boxing Day, the day when everyone relaxes. We marched around the parks and woods, calling in for pub refreshments before eating remainders from the Christmas feast and dozing in front of the television.

We had the first slot for ice skating the next day. or Gliding as it is now termed in the sophistication of the former Battersea Power Station. The Thames was lost in a fog and I struggled to find my balance on my first foray on ice for 25 years. I used to be able to skate backwards but until my offspring escorted me for a few laps around the Glide circuit, I was dependent on staying near the boundary rail. It used to be the other way round as I pulled them around the rinks. I was told not to worry as I was the oldest person on the ice which was a double-edged insult. On my last circuit, before the siren went, progress had been made and I had my arm behind my back and leg aloft as if I was on Duddingston Loch. 

The final day of the visit was taken up by a visit to the National Trust house and gardens at Polesden Lacey in deepest Surrey. Several thousand others had the same idea but there is a 1,600-acre estate to walk around and we spent a couple of hours traipsing the walkways in the mature woodlands along the Mole Valley. The Tanner's Hatch Youth Hostel had been renovated and was being used for musical weekends. A carousel was pitched outside the house along with coffee and Greek food vans and the stables had been refurbished as a well-managed eatery. It suggested that the National Trust was more advanced in its thinking than in many other properties that are moribund by comparison. 

My time was up as I caught the Sunday train back to Scotland. It was full to the gunnells with suitcases, buggies and baggy-eyed post-Christmas travellers. There were no Sunday buses for the last leg home so for the first time since moving six years ago, I had to call a taxi to reach home alone.

M&S on Oxford Street

Roger Fry, Post Impressionist -Blythburgh Estuary

Dulwich Park Run on Christmas Day

Bikes are not just for Christmas 

Formerly known as Ice Skating

Fog on the Thames, where the coal boats from the Tyne came in

 

Tuesday, 10 December 2024

Buchaille Etive Beag

Stob Dubh summit, Buchaille Etive Mor behind

Soundtrack for the walk - Cafe del Dubh.

Buchaille Etive Beag

Tuesday, 10 December 2024

Ascent:       1006metres
Distance:    11 kilometres
Time:          4 hours 56 minutes

Stob Dubh                    958m.     2hrs 41mins
Stob Coire Raineach.   925m.     3hrs 37mins


Some days just happen. Keith had messaged me on Sunday evening saying the aftermath of Storm Darragh might yield a few days of freezing but sunny weather. I suggested we climb Buchaille Etive Beag, Glencoe had been glazed with snow during the storm. It suited us both, neither of us had climbed it on our unintended sixth rounds, but we were no longer into Munro bagging!! I picked him up at Crianlarich at 8:30 a.m., having driven through the morning fog on empty icy roads. Crossing Rannoch Moor, it was -7°C and much the same when we parked at the newish car park by the bridge before the descent into Glencoe. A dozen cars were parked already and the visibility was no more than a few hundred metres. 

During the usual exasperation of preparing for the first winter walk: fitting boots and gaiters, fixing ice axes on the rucksack, packing crampons and easing ourselves into jackets, hats and gloves, I was chatting to the man in the next car who was ready to set out. He was dressed as the hillwalker equivalent of a mamil (middle-aged man in lycra) but with pricey mountain gear instead of Rapha, Castelli and Oakleys. He told me he had recently completed a Munro round and was starting on his ninth round. I was impressed and mentioned this to Keith who had been deliberating which of his many jackets and items of equipment to wear or pack for the outing. 

We started on the well-made path of large stones and small gravel. It had become a strip of black ice making it necessary to walk on the adjoining ground or perform a hiking on-ice routine. We caught up with the Mamil at 550 metres, he was fixing some step-in crampons onto his high-end boots. Keith congratulated him on being on his ninth round of Munros but discovered it was only on his ninth Munro in his second round. The kudos was immediately reversed when he heard that Keith was on his sixth round, he had never met anyone who had done more than three. Keith, who is instinctively modest, didn't bother to mention his 4 Munro Top rounds, 3 Corbett rounds, his rounds of the Grahams (Fionas), Firths,  and Wainwrights,  not to mention all his other walks. 

I decided given we had stopped to put on my crampons and Keith fitted his microspikes as the path was getting steeper and icier. My pace slackened as I kicked in my crampons to ratchet myself up the slopes. I ascribed it to the boots, the crampons and the fully loaded rucksack but it was probably a winter and age fitness syndrome. Keith was charging on in his micro spikes, his fitness permanently hardened by hillwalking three or four times a week.

At 700 metres, we emerged from the grey cloud and freezing temperature to gawp at the sheer beauty of Bidean nam Bian, the Aonach Eagach ridge with Ben Nevis looking near and looming big over its smaller siblings. Suddenly the ungainly crampons that had squeezed my boots and started blistering my heels no longer seemed to bother me. Even more so when we reached the bealach at 748 metres. We were treated to a balcony view of Buchaille Etive Mor and all the mountains stretching to Schiehallion. It was overwhelming as we had 360° of peaks surrounding us. (see video). They looked like a spikey meringue and were spectacularly delicious. Two young women arrived, they were equally mesmerised and asked if we knew of the App that gave you the names of all the mountains. We did but didn't know its name, we are old school and like to mentally exercise our mountain memories as we put together the jigsaw of peaks. We decided to climb Stob Dubh first, it is the higher and further away of the two Munros and would allow us to walk towards the midday sun and top up our vitamin D.

We drifted along, taking photos, the sun had warmed us, and our gloves were off as we reached the 906-metre top. We watched another walker set off to the summit with his drone following his progress. It was another kilometre along the ridge, and we loitered along goggling at the stupendous views of Ben Starav and the Cruachan range to the south aware that days like this are the reason for hillwalking. We pottered around the summit before finding a couple of boulders to sit and enjoy the moment. It was the first time I had brought a flask of coffee in a couple of years and it was warm enough to eat a sandwich, We both sent photos to friends and family stuck in cold foggy urban Britain. We spent 30 minutes chilling over an extended lunch, it was ecstatic at the Cafe del Dubh

We began the return before 1pm, dropping down to the bealach which was easygoing in the snow that had softened in the midday sun. The climb up to the second Munro, Stob Coire Raineach, was a slog and the crampons were probably unnecessary in the deep snow. We made it in under an hour and were gifted another set of views to drool over. We could see from Ardgour through Glencoe and back to the Breadalbane mountains. I removed my crampons before we galloped down the soft snow to the bealach. 

The sun was dipping behind Bidean nam Bian as we began the trek down the path. Initially, the snow and ice had softened but lower down and in the shadow cast by Bidean, it was refreezing and we found it easier to walk on the softer snow, it certainly exercised the quads. There were exceptional close-up views of the Aonach Eagach ridge as its crenellated summit was etched against the cobalt blue sky. We were down by 3:30 pm, it was still light but the car was frozen. After dropping Keith at Crianlarich, I made it home by 5pm. Now that was what I call a magic day.

Bidean nam Bian

I 💙 Bidean

Towards Ben Nevis with bonus Brocken Spectre

Bidean and me

Keith on Stob Dubh

Cafe del Dubh - Keith sending photos

Bidean nam Bian again

Bidean and Aonach Eagach

Looking back to Stob Dubh as the sun begins to dip at 2pm

Summit of Ston Coire Raineach

Aonach Eagach and Ardgour

Aonach Eagach

Big Boy




Monday, 25 November 2024

Treasury Rules



HM Treasury

As Keir Starmer's government settles down to business, one change that would make a difference would be to loosen the tentacles of Treasury rules and control that have been such a strait jacket on innovation and growth over the last few decades. 

Undoubtedly, the new government's inherited financial situation did not augur well for setting their first budget as the Institute for Fiscal Studies Paul Johnson's article on the black-hole explains. Funding was not set aside for many of the inquiries into serial mistakes by the government and its agencies, including the post office horizon scandal, the infected blood scandal, and Grenfell Tower. Other commitments of the outgoing government such as the pay review body recommendations were not funded even though they are normally accepted by the government. The conservative opposition and mainstream press have wasted no time trying to lay the blame on the new government castigating them for making payments to the trade unions when pay settlements had been held down for years by austerity. This was the reason behind the rail, nurse and doctor's strikes. This must be seen in the context of public sector awards falling well behind inflation over the past 13 years because of their fundamental disdain for public services,  These have continued since COVID-19 as shown in the graph below.

This means that Rachel Reeves was left with the requirement to make significant savings from existing budgets or from finding new forms of taxation. This is where the treasury began to dominate the proposals put forward. She has swallowed many of the treasury maxims that have not translated well into her budget. They are macro-level solutions that fit with the Treasury's tendency to distrust ministerial departments and local democratic bodies. They tend to operate through centralised diktat rather than evidence-based collaborative thinking. 

The outcome is entirely predictable. Rachel Reeves and Keir Starmer are no longer shiny happy people and not just because their wardrobes have had to be handed back. They are macro proposals of the type that take no recognisance of the detailed ramifications of the budget changes to those services, businesses and people that are most affected. 

The cutback of winter fuel allowances for the elderly and disabled would have been more acceptable had it been limited to those paying tax. This could have been refined by allowing the Department of Work and Pensions to find ways of safeguarding the most vulnerable from the impact of this measure. Anyone not paying any tax at all should automatically continue to receive it. This would have given a lesser saving but would have avoided the understandable indignation of pensioners and damaging the most vulnerable population in the UK. The electorate rightly expected more progressive budgetary decisions from a Labour government.

The introduction of additional national insurance payments by businesses was ill-thought-out and presumably taken because the Labour Party had ruled out NI increases for employees. Reversing Jeremy Humt's reductions in NI employee contributions would have been a better way of dealing with this if growth was the prime mission of the new government. Switching the savings to employers affects not only businesses but also public services and charities and will further impinge on their ability to deliver improved public services after years of decline. This is having a major impact on many of the very services that are required to improve the quality of life of many of the most vulnerable. Additional NI contributions by health authorities, councils, charities organisations and housing associations will stall improvements in services that are responsible for the majority of public services and Rachel Reeves is now having to construct a narrative to counter this unintended consequence.

The inheritance tax on farmers has not played well but there is some merit in taxing the super-rich who have utilised this loophole in inheritance tax to secure their assets by becoming land owners. It simply requires some strategic thinking about the purpose and the consequences of introducing willy-nilly proposals that could generate a tranche of funding to cover the black holes but have been made to sound petty.

Some of these black holes relate to the scatter of government failures that have been channelled into the long grass of expensive inquiries by the government. The Post Office paid £250m to its lawyers and the post office inquiry has cost £50m. Compensation to the victims has been far less so far and Rachel Reeves has had to find £540m for the expected compensation..

The infected blood scandal goes back to the 1970s when over 30,000 people were given contaminated blood products, 10% of whom died. The findings of the inquiry did not materialise until earlier this year leaving Rachel Reeves with the the responsibility for finding £11.8bn of compensation for victims in the budget.

Grenfell Tower Inquiry has cost £173m so far and £340m has been promised for a memorial. The victims have received £42m to date as the word cloud of those responsible bustles each other to shift the blame.

The previous government had made finagling responsibility for government mistakes and compensation for victims an art form of time management. Jeremy Hunt's hasty pre-election budget sought to offer reductions in employee National Insurance payments but never identified where the consequent savings would be made other than the usual trope of departmental efficiency savings.

So Rachel Reeves was given a poor hand but has played it badly because she has fallen for the Treasury cocktail of savings that lacks a detailed understanding of how things work in the real world. She had 3 months to finesse the budget but cobbled together more of the stale menu of savings that the Treasury and Chancellors have been serving for decades. What has been particularly disturbing is that Rachel Reeves claims that she has never heard of any alternatives to her budget proposals. She has either a deaf ear or lacks the imagination or willingness to engage with ideas other than the sterile top-down solutions of the Treasury that has made central government the monopoly recipient of taxation and broken the umbilical cord of accountability between councils and their citizens and businesses. In my humble view one of the fundamental mistakes of the past 50 years.

The Treasury is dominant in the development of the budget that by its very nature is developed at the macro level.  They do not take into account the nuances that ministerial or effective political deliberation should deliver. And there is no attempt to take cognisance of regional or local knowledge where practical experience would identify less disruptive or damaging options.

At a time when the impact of climate change is accelerating and causing havoc in communities and the switch to electric vehicles is stalling, surely it would be appropriate to use the fuel price escalator which has been frozen since 2011. Yes, it would be an extra charge for households and logistics companies but our roads are overly congested and there is an imperative to generate better use of buses and trains. Electric cars are no longer selling at the rate required to meet climate change targets, so raising the cost of fuel for diesel and petrol vehicles when fuel costs have diminished would be a doubly beneficial measure. At the same time, a tax on short-haul air travel in the UK would raise income and/or reduce the need for airport expansion.

The Labour Party sold the pass on raising income tax in their manifesto but a higher taxation could kick in at a level beyond, say, £150,000 per annum. This might also be linked to one of Rachel Reeves's intentions about pensions. It could be used to pay for a government investment bond instead of her proposal to centralise local government pension schemes which have been well managed and guaranteed pensions by strong local accountability and competition between financial advisers. Shifting the control to mega pension funds serviced by the usual coterie of finance companies will penalise SME financial companies and make investment in local companies less likely.

An area that has not been considered since the 1960s is some form of land taxation. This should apply particularly to the development of land. At the moment land is bought cheaply by residential developers in particular and once the planning permission is gained the valuation of that land rises significantly. Any uplift in land values should be taxed for the benefit of the local community. Equally many landowners including farmers are reaping significant income streams from wind farms and arrays of solar panels or micro hydro schemes on their land. This could be a source of funding for local councils that have seen their funding reduced and capped over the past decade.

The UK should be following the example of other European countries who have not tied electricity prices to the cost of gas which is dictated largely by Putin's export of gas. Given that the UK has a higher percentage of electricity generated from renewables and other sources, including the remnants of nuclear, it might save considerable costs to consumers of electricity.  It would diminish the rates paid to the electricity providers who currently use gas primarily and more sustainable sources are turned off in periods of low demand. So despite the UK having the highest capacity of renewables, we are paying the highest prices in Europe because prices are pegged to the price of gas. 

Another option would be for the government to introduce an online sales tax. Many city centre town centre businesses have been badly damaged by competition from online retailers who do not have to pay town centre business rates. It would benefit existing town centres that have been severely damaged by online sales by Amazon and other retailers, out-of-town retail parks and the loss of footfall following Covid and the significant shift to working from home.  The vitality of our town and city centres could be greatly enhanced by such measures.

These are just a few of the policy options for generating more tax and rebuilding public services at the same time addressing some of the other missions that the new government made the centrepiece of their manifesto. Rachel Reeves has shown no indication that she will break the treasury rules and her reputation is one of another bean counter, whose only advantage over Jeremy Hunt is that she can count.



Sunday, 24 November 2024

Farewell




Remembering Aileen

View from the lair - Ben Ledi

Norrieston Church

22 November, 2024

Today we buried Aileen's ashes in the local cemetery. It had been a while since her funeral during which time we sought to find the most suitable resting place. We had hoped to buy a lair in the Trossachs Church graveyard where we had married. It was located close to where we had lived for 34 years but the cemetery was full and, according to the minister, the church was likely to be sold shortly. We eventually decided on the local cemetery where Aileen and I had lived for 4 years after building a house that Aileen had specced and adored. She loved the open skies inand views of Ben Ledi and the Campsies from the house. A lair with a view of Ben Ledi would embrace those memories. Her parents had lived in a cottage, Blairgarry, on Loch Venachar below the slopes of Ben Ledi. It was where we spent many weekends in the year before we got married and her parents had retired to live there. We visited most weekends after the family arrived. Blairgarry had a timeless tranquillity that Aileen found calming away from the hurly-burley of working whilst raising a family.

We met with the Funeral Director and the Council cemetery officer at the lair in the well-kept village graveyard next to Norrieston Church. After lowering her casket to the ground, we took some time to reflect and silently make our farewells. Aileen was serene, selfless, honest, modest, loyal, principled, perceptive, thoughtful, dedicated to the family, mischievous and funny. She nurtured our three children, each distinctively successful in their fields  She worked successfully as an editor in two private and two public organisations where she gained both respect and promotions. She was actively involved in playgroups, school parent committees, and school boards (she edited the Scottish Office guidance for them). She had looked after her elderly parents in their final years and was involved in the board of the local care home. She participated in book groups and even managed to read the books. She was the glue and beating heart of the wider family.

She was a francophile and attended French classes after retirement at the Alliance Francais. She loved the simple pleasures of conversing and travelling to villages, and towns in France, soaking up the culture and glorious landscapes. In Scotland, her favourite haunts were the Isle of Coll, Edinburgh and the Torridons, Shieldaig being very special. She was besotted by Italy and Venice in particular but her most magical place was Namibia with its crystal clear air, expansive African skies and wildlife in the raw arid landscapes.

We reflected on these qualities and pleasures after leaving the cemetery. It was a cold but sunny day as we drove to some of her favourite places in the vicinity. We visited Loch Venachar and Blairgarry, Brig o' Turk, the Glen Finglas reservoir, Loch Katrine, the Duke's Pass, Aberfoyle, the woods behind Nimlah where we had lived for 30 years, Loch Ard and the Lake of Menteith. It was a wonderful way to think about her, remember happy days and share stories. 

We had lunch in the Brig o' Turk tea room where we had many meals when the children were young, they were welcomed by the friendly owners. We had dinner in the Lake of Menteith Hotel on a frosty evening before Storm Bert barrelled in overnight. It snowed and the next morning it was a tricky journey into Stirling for Eva to catch her train back to London. 

New House - to Aileen's design

Our room with a view

Nimlah - home for 30 years

Callander

Glen Finglas 

Brig o' Turk Tea Room- our local bistro

View from the Trossachs Church where we were married

Loch Katrine

Ben A'an

Ben A'an at Christmas

Home for 30 years

Super Mum - Pollock Grounds

Working Mum

On Safari, Namibia

Granny time

Celebrating a Munro Round

Last trip to Venice

Ben A'an and Loch Katrine during Covid

Loch Venachar and Ben Ledi


Nimlah Plant Life 

A Robin, they were with us all day