I ended last years round up blog by saying I didn't know what the main event would be in the great outdoors, but a collection of three great day walks with Pauline has already come pretty close. Maybe it was the holiday atmosphere, but for sure they were three great days out to start the year.
The first, on a freezing, clear, blue sky day, was out in West Lothian, an area I've never associated with going for a hillwalk, mostly due to their being very little in the way of hills.
After getting off the train at Uphall, it was a short 3km cycle ride to the start of the walk, though the last hundred yards was treacherous, with black ice on the road. The walk itself takes little more than half an hour to the top of the 219m outcrop known as Binny Craig, and though small, one could say it is perfectly formed.
The shape of the hill is known as a crag-and-tail, and was formed mostly by glaciation, with the ice scraping away the softer sedimentary rocks, and leaving behind this arch of harder igneous rock. The more I stared at it, the more impressed I was. From the top were clear views to the Ochil Hills of Stirlingshire, sunlight illuminating their summits.
And this would be the choice for our next sojourn, though when we ventured onto them the tops were less impressive than from Binny Craig due to low cloud and low visibility that failed to lift all day.
We were heading for the highest peak of Ben Cleuch at 721m, but we would end up turning back due to the poor visibility. The first section of the walk, up Alva Glen out of Tillicoultry, was spectacular though, up a deep gorge carved out by the river, passable only because of well built wooden walkways.
We ate lunch at the top of the glen before starting a relentless steep walk up toward Ben Cleuch. The low cloud and an annoying achilles heel injury, kept the summit from us on this occasion, but you can't judge the enjoyment of a day in the great outdoors by whether you reach the summit or not, and we can return another day to bag Ben Cleauch.
The third outing was on another frosty morning, starting out of a beautiful Fife village called Falkland, a pretty little settlement, with French-influence architecture, which became a royal burgh in the mid 1400s, with Falkland Palace at its centre. It has even appeared in Outlander.
We were heading for the twin peaks of the Lomond Hills, visible in the far distance from my home in Portobello.
The sky was clear, and the air crisp, as we wandered up the sculpted glen, Maspie Den. The path purposely winds it way through little tunnels, carved through the rock for no other apparent reason than entertainment, then across little wooden bridges, and even passes behind a mini waterfall.
West Lomond hill was our first destination, and though busy with lots of people doing the same, it did not detract from the enjoyment. The last 100 yards to the top was a steep slog, but thankfully short, with a view to East Lomond Hill, which appeared to be miles away. In reality it wasn't, and we stopped halfway to munch our packed lunches.
This final hill of East Lomond was a much shorter and quicker ascent, and we stopped only briefly in the bitter icy breeze, before dropping back down into the village of Falkland. I couldn't believe this was the first time up these hills, when I've been looking at them from Portobello for the past 40 years.
It was the perfect end to a trilogy of local outdoor meanders to start the year off in the great outdoors, and they were a great stress beater.
Maybe I should repeat this walk now, because the following week was, to put it mildly, the most stressful I've known for a long time.
I had made a decision before New Year to open a second Film Academy on a Wednesday, and with the Facebook debacle now solved in my favour, though still a mystery as to its cause, it was in the past, and it was now full steam ahead.
But the final 48 hours were crazy. I needed 16 students to be close to breaking even, and with 48 hours to go, I was just one short.
But then the most bizarre, rollercoaster of events unfolded, with one, then two, dropping out, followed by three new students joining, followed by another two call offs, and so on and so on, relentlessly. It continued unabated into the final 24 hours, and like a boxer fighting for survival, I tried to find the staying power to see it through, with the Academy's web guru Annabel, now becoming my second, fanning me down, telling me to stay on my feet and dodge the punches. Keep going. You'll win in the end. Round after round I went in, metaphorical mouth guard firmly in place.
Feeling battered and bruised, by the time the bell went ding ding, we were at a steady 17 students. I almost collapsed with exhaustion, as did Annabel, but we had made it.
And it was a great success, followed by another new student joining the day after, but I don't think I could go through that again.
Let's hope that the rest of the year resembles less of a Mike Tyson prize fight, and more a gentle walk up a West Lothian hill.
