Round the World in 150 days



Howtown, Ullswater before the trip

At last Gregor and Debbi have started their round the world trip. They won £6 at the races in Hong Kong but it was spent on cocktails. They are staying in hostels and with relations for some of the time during the 9 weeks in Australia and New Zealand.  I had a surprise phone call from Sydney yesterday, they had booked a hostel but did not have the address with them so could I look it up on Google Map and direct them to the hostel. It was cheaper to do this by phone using an Oz SIM card to the UK than to pay for time at an internet cafe. They really are living on a budget.

They have spent 4 days in Melbourne and will be in Sydney for a week before moving up the coast to Queensland where they will stay with my cousin Robin for the weekend. He has a splendid estate on a river with boats, various exotic vehicles and other mantoys to play with.  It should keep the costs down for them and allow them to access the barrier reef.

They should have fine tuned their travel style by Christmas when they will be in New Zealand. Gregor will be expecting the family to boost his finances, £2000 for 5 months did seem a bit optimistic. The South American leg of the trip in the new year will last 3 months and they have no contacts there to help eke out their dwindling resources.

Honkers here they come

Returning and cleaning the car

Hong Kong nightlife

Gregor and his girlfriend Debbi have now left the country on a 5-month round-the-world trip. They managed, largely as a result of my constant nagging, to keep their packs down to 12kg as they set off on the first leg to Hong Kong or Honkers, as Gregor dubbed it yesterday. They continue via Australia, New Zealand, Chile, Bolivia, Argentina and Brazil. Aileen retrieved the keys for her Mini, which Gregor had dragooned for the past 2 years, and he had cleaned it as well. We gave them a send-off in Byres Road, where we had a stretched lunch at La Vallee Blanche, a fine French restaurant in Byres Road.

It seemed like the foretaste of retirement, with all of the children more than 400 miles away. Eva is working in London, and Amy is on a sabbatical in New Zealand. Today was the start of the winter rains, with the roads unable to cope. We had lunch at Blairgarry with Ellie, Alan and Pauline. The Milton Burn was fuller than I have ever seen it, and the roar could be heard 100 metres away in the lounge of Blairgarry. And at the end of the week, we fly off to Delhi for a three-week post-retirement trip to India and Nepal.

Eagle of the Ninth - a Braveheart buster in the making

Watching the battle being filmed in Finnich Glen

Summer Isles with Rainbow

Remember the last King of Scotland and its opening scenes on Loch Lomond? Well, the reason may be related to the fact that the Director is a local man, Kevin MacDonald, who kens his childhood haunts with affection. He is currently directing a film - Eagle of the Ninth - based on the book by Rosemary Sutcliff about the lost Roman legion in Scotland. Two thousand years on he has identified some spectacular locations for the shoot of the film. Speaking to the locations manager on set last week, I discovered that they had already filmed extensively in the primaeval scenery near Achiltibuie where mountains jump out of the ground and mesmerise you and where the seascapes are decorated by the challengingly named Summer Isles - see the evening rainbow there taken this summer.

The last two weeks have been on location in the Stirling area at the Devil's Pulpit in the Finnich Glen near Croftamie and at Touch estate near Stirling. The filming at the Devil's Pulpit involved a huge circus of caravans, vehicles, Hungarian stuntmen, rain making equipment (how daft is that in this part of the world) and was the setting for a bloody battle between the Seal people and the Romans in the river gorge. A funeral pyre was also burning whilst I was there. I am seen to the left of the person with the large bum in the photo. Filming continues over the next three weeks at Loch Lomond and then back north to Applecross and Loch Maree. Should be worth watching for the scenery if not the casting, which seems to have been cobbled together for the American market.

What's the point of Curries

The medical centre had me in today to vaccinate for the India/Nepal trip.  I had thought that all the curries I had eaten over the years would have provided sufficient protection. So in no particular order, I was shot for hep A, typhoid, hep B, and rabies, and my upper arms resemble pincushions. I didn't feel a thing but I was told to go home and rest which is a novel concept. I have delayed wallpapering for a couple of hours to catch up on other things like lunch, emails and to post this blog.

However, it will be reassuring if we come face to face with a Tiger in the Royal Chitwan National Park to know that I have had a rabies vaccination!

House Facelift Complete

Work in Progress

Job Done

As you can see the house has now had the scaffolding removed and for the first time in 6 weeks we have the house to ourselves again. I painted it over two dawn to dusk 12-hour days before the scaffolding disappeared. We decided to do it in the original highland green. Aileen wouldn't let me do it in totally nutmeg (a dusty yellow), or overtly olive (yes, look at the Dulux colour charts) as she doubted if I would get round to do the other elevations to match - such trust.

The roof repairs were much needed but the escalating problems with the timbers on the facade and the upper wall, which collapsed when I was passing through Gatwick on my way to Corsica, meant I had to abandon my Corsican GR20 attempt and return home. On reflection, this was no bad thing as there were 9 days of electrical storms in Corsica. I was a bit frazzled when I retired at the end of Q3 of my life, electroconvulsive therapy might have meant a premature ending of Q4.

When I arrived back from Gatwick, the bedroom was festooned with emergency scaffolding surrounding the bed and other effects, such as my bedside reading, running shoes and items that I had ditched at the last minute to lighten my rucksack. The bedroom had the random clutter of a Tracy Emin exhibit.

The bedroom wall had to be demolished and rebuilt with brick and new timbers, decisions on slates had to be taken - recycled or new. I chose the former and we now are sheltered by recycled slates from the Trossachs Church, where we had married 30 years ago. We had lots of different tradesmen, seven on one day, competing to find parking space in the drive. They were squatting in the garage with their tools, and randomly depositing nails, Irn Bru bottles, mortar, old slates, sawdust, uneaten lunches and worst of all the Sun newspaper throughout the garden.  I was a supportive foreman/dogsbody and I went through 4kg of sugar making teas and coffees for the breaks most of which involved surreal episodes of conversation.  It reminded me of an episode of Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, but turbocharged with some Scottish invective.

You will see in the photo below that there was a silver lining. I managed to climb Ben Lomond virtually,  it is below my right hip, whilst playing on the scaffolding. This could save a drive to Rowardennan and a 2-hour slog up the boggy path during the fifth round.

Great place for a Roof Garden

Beinn Dearg - Autumn Gold

The summit of Beinn Dearg

Wednesday, 28 October 2009

Ascent:           990 metres
Distance:        25 kilometres 
Time:              6 hours 10 minutes

Beinn Dearg     1008m    2hrs 55mins

Today was the last chance to spend some time walking with Gregor before he sets off on a circumnavigation of the world in 150 days. The weather forecasts were ominous, so we headed to Blair Atholl as the most likely location for rain and wind-free mountains. We were rewarded with a glorious morning as we trekked through golden beech woods towards Glen Banvie. We sighted several red squirrels before ascending into the clouds; the hills beckoned through the span of an intense rainbow. Apart from two bluff Yorkshiremen, riding spanking new mountain bikes, the day was people-free.

As we approached the summit of Beinn Dearg, which was lost in the low cloud, we meandered into a flock of Ptarmigan. It was a delight to hear their calls - a cross between a gargle and scraping the teeth of a comb. On the descent, shafts of afternoon sunlight raised our spirits, and the bellowing of stags serenaded the hillside.

The tussock grasses stood out like burning embers from the wet green mosses and heathers. I was castigated for loitering to take photographs of such humble plant life, but the results are stunning. It was a long walk of 26 kilometres and we were constantly jumping the swollen burns during our descent of the hill track on the way back to Glen Tilt. Unusually, I managed to keep my feet dry despite wearing a pair of trainers.

Across Glen Tilt, Beinn a' Ghlo stood aloft from the brown-tinged lower slopes, whilst Ben Vrackie was a mere hump on the wavy blue horizon of hills. When we arrived back at the Old Blair car park, it was almost dusk and all other walkers had departed. We had extracted every tone and light condition from this autumn day. It prompted me to make my first post on the blog I had set up to keep Gregor informed of life at home as he travels across Asia, Australia, New Zealand and South America.

Glen Banvie

Autumn Gold

Tussock Grasses

Looking south to Ben Vrackie

First Days of Retirement

Leaving the office behind

This was not the first blog post; it was added a few months later when I realised that retirement from a full-time and full-on job had created the chance to reflect on those things that are the essence of life: people, places, events and thoughts about wider affairs. My diary was no longer full of meetings and evening events. I no longer had to write reports and letters, chair meetings, mentor staff, give talks, and respond to the ever-increasing number of emails that pinged into my inbox every day. I was free and able to focus on the things that mattered in my life. It was a chance to record and create a set of memories that I could tap into when my energy levels have declined, and I want to lift my spirits. 

This opportunity began on the day I retired after almost 39 years of continuous employment, working with politicians at the local and national levels, professionals from many disciplines and active communities. The blog is the beginning of what I hope will become a cache of my fond recollections of people, places, events and holidays, as well as the shenanigans of politics and the economic, social, environmental and financial injustices that they create. 

20 May 2009, Retirement Day

The prospect of time being on my side was tantalising. After almost 39 years of uninterrupted employment involving 10 posts in 7 organisations - 2 consultancy firms, 1 English local authority, the Scottish Office and 3 Scottish local authorities - I was ready for a break. It had been a long innings with mainly long days and many evening meetings. I had never missed a day's work apart from 2 weeks in hospital after contracting dysentery in the Sahara in 1972, a week in hospital after breaking a leg parachuting in 1977,  and then in the next 32 years, just 2 days off with Campylobacter resulting from a First Minister's lunch at the Glasgow Hilton.

When I gave my notice to retire in early January, I specified mid-June as my retirement date. A planned ski holiday in February had to be cancelled because the Council delayed setting its budget. I could carry forward these days plus some leave from the previous leave year, so my last working day was 20 May. It had been an exhausting year with a new and naive administration, a difficult budget after the banking collapse, the dismissal of a disruptive Councillor, a subsequent by-election and a lot of 70-hour weeks.  

My health had taken a turn for the worse at the start of the year when I was diagnosed with atrial fibrillation. It meant I had to restrict my running, managing only 66 miles in the 4 months to retirement instead of the normal 60 or 70 miles per month I would normally achieve. I had a cardioversion on 9 April and returned to sinus rhythm, but only for 48 hours. We went to London for Easter, and I picked up flu-like symptoms that made things very difficult for a couple of weeks. I was working but going straight home to bed every day, and I had to be rushed to Edinburgh Royal Infirmary after collapsing on a plane during take-off on a flight to Ireland for a wedding. I was feeling better by early May, which was just as well with a by-election, 2 weddings and 6 leaving dinners to attend.

On the last day of work, I started by sending a farewell to all my chief executive colleagues, thanking them for their support and offering some reflections about the job. I held a management team meeting with my Directors and then hosted a meeting with the farmers' market to help them create plans for a permanent location in the former MoD premises. There were many informal farewells to colleagues, councillors, the local Deli, receptionists, janitors, and tea ladies. I finished the day with cake and drinks with my immediate team in the late afternoon. After the folk had gone. I carried out my pictures and boxes of books, papers and other paraphernalia to my car. I took a last look around the offices where I had spent over 35,000  hours in the previous 18 years. I decided that it would be my last visit to the premises; I wanted a clean break. Once you've gone, you've gone.

As I left, well after 6pm, I bumped into two people who epitomised all that was best in the Council. First, the leader of the Central Regional Council and Stirling Council, with whom I had worked for 17 years, although he was now the leader of the opposition. It was the end of an era; we had achieved a lot together, but we had probably both reached a point when it was difficult to crank up the enthusiasm for another set of initiatives. The cash was disappearing, and the cosh was coming down on Councils from an increasingly centralised Scottish Government. We had both shared a commitment to localism, community engagement, social justice and sustainability and had a justified scepticism about the Scottish Government's focus on centralising services and policies. We bade farewell, and then I noticed that Joyce was still working. She was a senior administrator who ran the elections with an efficiency that could not be faulted. She earned the respect of everyone by her unstinting attention to detail and, at times, brutally honest opinion; she characterised all that is best about public service. 

I left with positive memories but no real regrets, and 28 minutes later, I completed my last commute - a 20-mile drive west into the highlands. Ben Lomond was my lodestone, and there was little traffic to frustrate the journey or clutter the mind. I was reminded of the Beatles song, Tomorrow Never Knows.  Turn off your mind, Relax and float downstream, It is not dying. 

For my first day of retirement, a Thursday, Aileen was working, so I had arranged with Gregor to spend a couple of days walking in the Lake District. After completing a post-grad course, he was working at an outdoor shop in Glasgow and had arranged to take two days off. I drove to Glasgow to collect him, and we went to the Lake District, where I had some of the smaller fells to climb to finish the 223 Wainwright hills. It was noon as we parked in Mungrisdale on a clear, warm, but cloudy day. We climbed the steep slopes of Bowscale Fell and then took in Blencathra; it is too good a hill to miss. I was walking better than I could have expected and raced Gregor down to the next hill, Mungrisdale Common, although his shoe came off in the peat bog and he had to stop to retrieve it. We returned to the car via Bannerdale Crags and Souther Fell. 

We had some refreshments in the Mill Inn before driving to Keswick to buy some food, and then we drove on to Bassenthwaite. Gregor was keen to climb Barf and Lord's Seat, so I dropped him there while I booked in at the Braithwaite campsite, set up the tent and cooked some food. I could get used to this retirement malarkey.

After a night in the tent, we set out the next morning to climb the five hills south of Braithwaite from Causey Pike to Sail to Barrow. Hills that had been my first excursions into the Lakeland Fells as an 11-year-old on a primary school trip to Newlands. We were walking easily, and there was time for lunch at the excellent Lakeland Pedlar vegetarian cafe in Keswick before venturing north to climb two hills - Ling Fell and Sale Fell near Bassenthwaite. They did not take long either, and there was time to finish the afternoon with a run-up Binsey, the most northerly Wainwright hill. We stopped at Caldbeck for some food before I dropped Gregor at Penrith Station, so he could catch a train to Glasgow, as he was working on Saturday. I drove down to Preston to see my brother and sister, something I had not done since my father died in April 2008. It was amazing how much could be done in retirement.

The following week, on 26 May, less than a week after retirement, I was due to have another cardioversion at the hospital to see if my heart could be returned to sinus rhythm. There was no need; less than a week after retiring, it had already happened naturally. I began to run regularly again, and by August, I was achieving some personal bests and running better than at any time in the past six years. Perhaps turning off my mind and relaxing was the answer.

Heading along to Blencathra

The first walk of retirement - Mungrisdale.