He had a coffee; I had Earl Grey. His was frothy and a bit cold, he told me; mine was too hot, so I blew on it, not that it made a whit of difference. “From England? You’re walking the whole way from the North of England to Santiago?” “Yes. The one in Spain, … Continue reading There’s a Hole in my Bucket
I was in Blackness Castle on the shores of West Lothian this week. It is built in the shape of an unsinkable ship facing out onto the Firth of Forth towards the Rosyth dockyard across the water in Fife. The tide was low and all of the small yachts moored in the bay were fully exposed, … Continue reading Nearly
Twenty years ago, about this time of year, I was sitting on the second floor of a fire escape on the gable end of a large red-bricked terrace in South Belfast. As usual, S. was with me; we shared the flat, and were making plans for a joint birthday party later in the autumn. It … Continue reading Black Mountain
Was it only me, or did you feel as though July delivered about three months worth of life packed tightly into just thirty one days? Was it the early dawns and late sunsets? Was it the heat? Was it the pin-balling news: wildfires, world cup, Thai boys’ rescue, summits, protests, elections in Pakistan and Zimbabwe, … Continue reading Lughnasa
The Pentlands, a range of hills to the south-west of Edinburgh, are just about eight miles out. We went up them yesterday for a walk. Or, I might borrow famous Scottish hiker, Nan Shepherd’s better fitting expression: yesterday we went into the hills for a walk. Nan Shepherd’s mountains were further north, and she wrote … Continue reading Pentlands
My Edinburgh Press 