Starbucks

 I'm a bit of a fan of Starbucks coffee. Not sure why really as in terms of flavour it's not the best I've ever had. Back in the days when I owned my own coffee shop I would quite confidentially say that I served better coffee.

When Pauline and I cycled across the United States in 2011, early morning coffee was the start to every day, mostly a weak watery concoction at a local gas station. Occasionally, in larger towns, we would find a Starbucks and be very excited at finding this treat. They were few and far between in the midwest, but of course when we hit Seattle, the home of Starbucks, they were quite literally on every corner. Because of our mutual like of Starbucks we chose their very first store in Pike Place Market, downtown Seattle, as our finish line.

Maybe it's the consistency, that you can rely on getting the same thing every time, But whatever the reason  I think we could be taken for loyal customers.

Well, (do you sense a rant coming here?!), just a couple of days ago I visited a Starbucks store in Edinburgh, my home city. I have a Starbucks card which I've had for going on 10 years, and though I don't use it all the time, on occasion I'll put money on it and pay for my coffee because in doing so I get a free extra shot and flavouring syrup.

Not anymore.

Apparently, and this came as news to me, between the beginning of January 2012 and the beginning of January 2013, you had to gain "50 points" on your card, one point for every coffee bought using the card. But I don't use the card all the time, so that wasn't going to happen. Anyway, I knew nothing about this scheme. Once you reach the 50 points your card is upgraded to Gold Star standard. What does this mean? Well, quite simply it continues just as before with the same discounts.

But of course, I haven't used the card enough. So I wrote to Starbucks. Bottom line is because I hadn't gained the 50 points on the card in the year I was not considered a loyal customer and so unworthy of their Gold Star.

Considering the recent bad press they have been having over the supposed non payment of British taxes etc, you'd think they would be going all out to improve their image.

In reality, last year I did reach and surpass the required 50 points, but of course in Starbucks eyes I cannot prove this.

This is not the sort of customer service one would expect from an American company, and quite frankly I'll be looking for a different regular coffee provider from now on.

Stars and Stripes

It was still dark as I left the house on my bicycle at quarter past eight on Sunday morning, to meet my friend Pauline. The reason for the early start? We'd set ourselves the challenge of cycling to each of the seven hills that our home city of Edinburgh is built on and climbing to the top of every one!

The first hill of our challenge was Arthurs Seat, an extinct volcano rising from the very heart of the city to a height of 820 feet. It was to be the hardest hill of the day. We made a steep cycle to the half way point and then continued on foot as the sun started to rise, casting an orange glow over the landscape, though the city itself stayed in shadow below the volcano. From the top we could see across Edinburgh, over the Forth Estuary . . . to the rest of the six hills we had to climb.

We easily polished off the next two city-centre hills. The 337-foot Calton Hill hosts an observatory dating back to 1776 but, as the sun was fully up now, there was no chance for stargazing.
We then became two of the 1.3million people who each year visit Scotland's most popular and iconic tourist attraction, Edinburgh Castle, sitting at 420 feet on its rock. There's been a castle on this site since the 12th century but today it's best known as the backdrop for the Edinburgh Military Tattoo and the spectacular New Year fireworks show.

Fortified by coffee and cake, we made a three-mile dash across the busy city centre and through the chaos of the tram works to the west side to climb the 530 feet of Corstorphine Hill. We had chained up our bikes and were picking our way up the maze of paths when suddenly we saw a vision of black and white stripes. Zebras!

Yes, you read correctly. Zebras! You see, Corstorphine Hill overlooks Edinburgh Zoo. The zoo is celebrating its centenary this year and the recent arrival of two other black and white guests, the giant pandas from China, Yang Guang and Tian Tian.
On top of the hill there's a tower, built in 1872 and dedicated to Sir Walter Scott and from here we looked south to the distant remaining three hills of our challenge.




The Water of Leith Walkway took us towards out fifth hill, Craiglockhart. We climbed the higher west top at 574 feet having chained up our bikes in the campus of Napier University at its base. The way up was steep and narrow but we rewarded our efforts with a picnic lunch, hunkered down out of the wind in a depression that in prehistoric times was a vitrified fort. Past excavations revealed that the Romans also probably took lunch here!

To the south of Edinburgh is a small mountain range called the Pentlands and the last two of our "seven hills" are the northern most extent of that range. The 700-foot summit of Braid Hills sits in the middle of a very challenging golf course - lucky we had our cycle helmets on! A steep-sided valley on its north side called the Hermitage of Braid provides a leafy corridor for dog-walkers, joggers and for us to cycle to our seventh and final hill, Blackford. We were elated as we made the stiff climb up its 540 feet and gazed over what I believe is the absolute iconic view of the Edinburgh skyline.

Blackford Hill also has an observatory on top and a huge telescope for spotting stars in the night sky or, if you point it westward, for spotting Zebras on Corstrophine Hill.

Life of Pi

I should say up front this is not a film review as such, more a reflection influenced by the film.

A couple of days ago I went with my friend Andrew to see Life Of Pi by Ang Lee. It’s hard to categorise it as it is so unique but it could be said to be a coming of age film. Unlike myself, Andrew had read the book, written by Yann Martel and published in 2001, but said at the end that he was envious of me hearing the story for the first time, not knowing where it would go.

A number of years back I had accompanied Andrew to the Tate Modern gallery in London. At one point we found ourselves on the top floor, at the time home to their modern art exhibits. As we wandered round the various installations and canvasses I became increasingly impatient to leave, modern art not “floating my boat,” as a late friend used to say about scripts he didn’t understand. Andrew asked what it was I didn’t like about the art. That was easy, I said, pointing to an obscure large canvass with merely a brush swirl of colour upon its surface. I could do that! Maybe, he replied, but you had to have thought of it first.

That changed my entire view, and appreciation, of all art, not just modern. However, one view hadn’t changed. I would gaze upon a piece, deciding for myself what it meant. Then I would read the explanation by the artist. Almost every time I differed with the artist’s explanation, preferring to believe my own, at times more spiritual version, as, in my opinion, it was a better story. An allegory in effect.

Well, Life Of Pi has had the same effect on me as that moment back in the Tate. In essence it is the story of one boy surviving against all odds. Not until you reach the end do you realise that the story is an allegory of a certain subject, and it takes you by surprise.

I’m being purposely vague because I want you to see the film as I did, not knowing the end or the overall arch. It certainly was thought provoking.  I’ll be very surprised if it doesn’t have the same effect on you.

Happy New Year to you all.

I believe in Santa Claus

It's OK, I'm not having a breakdown so there's no need to send for the men in white coats just yet.

This isn't really about the shed loads of presents that a fat man in a red suit squeezes down everyone's chimney each year, most of which you probably already have anyway, just not this years model or colour.

No. I'm referring to the man himself, or really, his persona.

Here's a guy that has what most teenagers really want these days . . . fame. Yet he's modest with it, but most of all he's kind, generous and thoughtful of others.

One of my friend's parents help out at a local church serving up a christmas meal on the morning of the 25th to whoever turns up, be it the elderly on their own or those in need of a good meal. One volunteer had been at a local supermarket just the day before to buy a dozen christmas puddings. A man behind her in the queue said, "wow, you must really like christmas pudding!" When she explained to him that actually it was for the free community meal the church provided, he took out his wallet and paid for them.

What a great spontaneous act of kindness.

I don't have children of my own, but many of my friends do. Over the past few years I've been invited to one of my friends for Christmas Day, and his sister's kids have always been there, excitedly opening presents, and then fighting over each others. Chaos usually ensues but it's all good fun and smiles and laughter abound, and the joy of Christmas is delivered to us through them.

It is very generous of my friend to invite me to this family gathering.

I definitely enjoy the giving more than the receiving, though I obviously enjoy both, who doesn't. This year I received a home made gift from a close friend. There's something very special about a gift that someone has spent time and imagination over, making it with just you in mind. A very personal gift. A gift that you know you'll always keep.

It's a very thoughtful act when someone takes the time to make something just for you.

So yes, I believe in Santa Claus.

200th

Amazingly this is my 200th blog.

The first was on 29 June 2009, all about a little film project I was trying to get off the ground called Bright Blue Button. In fact, it was that very project that prompted me to start a blog, in the hope that it might add some publicity to the project. I never thought I would continue much beyond the life of that film.

But, every week since, I have posted some nonsense about, well, what's rattling around in my brain I guess. Some of you have been there through the emotional journeys and the great highlights that have peppered the past three years.

Another reason for starting the blog was in some vain hope that by writing to a deadline every week my writing skills and grammar would improve. OK, so maybe I was aiming a little high, but for the majority of the time it has been an enjoyable experience.

My friend Pauline has started a new blog recently. From May 2010 to very recently she was posting the stories generated by her round the world cycle adventure, called The Bicycle Diaries. Her new blog is aptly titled The Outdoor Diaries. If it's well constructed sentences and structured stories you're looking for then Pauline's blog is the one to add to your favourites. Here's the link:

http://www.theoutdoordiaries.blogspot.com

I have just heard that the film Sleepless 'til Seattle was not chosen for the Fargo Film Festival in 2013. This is a bitter blow. It was our favourite stop on the route and featured in the film. Had it been chosen there was every chance I would have attended as it was the week of my 50th birthday. Ah well, win some lose some.

I hope in some way you've enjoyed the 200 blogs over the past few years.

It's been fun.

Merry Christmas to you all.

Dancing on ice

It's been two and a half years since I've trekked and camped in the Scottish mountains with my friend Pauline. I guess there was the small matter of a round-the-world cycle in between. So we decided to take the opportunity of a window of available time and head north, though I thought it was going to be hillwalking, not hill skating.

With a good weather forecast we left Edinburgh for Blair Atholl, and the neighbouring valley Glen Tilt, on a late train on Tuesday evening. Arriving in Blair Atholl in the dead of night we were greeted with a bit of a surprise . . . snow!

Having travelled the night before we were in a great position to get an early start to our trek into the hills and Glen Tilt on a glorious day. Not a breath of wind and unbroken blue skies. However it was slow going as all the small streams that crossed the paths were frozen and we gingerly stepped across, occasionally skating as we lost our grip. One bridge was covered with two inches of solid polished ice making it impassable. Our only choice was to detour around.

All around us a frozen mist hung in the valleys and wildlife foraged for food in the frozen landscape. Up ahead roe deer darted across the path, their large white behinds flashing by; a mountain hare in its snowy white winter coat sprinted up the hillside; a puffed up robin kept us company as we trekked along.

We camped for the night next to an old stone bridge and our tents were pitched by four o'clock. By five o'clock, as the sun was casting its fire-red glow onto nearby mountains, the temperature had dropped to minus 5. Just one hour later it had plummeted to minus 10. During the night I was wearing my full thermals, trousers, two pairs of socks, three further layers up top, my hat and buff. Added to that I was wrapped up in a winter season sleeping bag . . . and I was still cold! On the bright side it never got entirely dark due to the clear sky and a proliferation of stars, their light reflecting off the surrounding snow.

The following day we opted to scale a nearby hill, ascending through soft six-inch deep snow, with small flurries of snow gently falling. As we neared the summit we entered some hill fog. I lost sight of Pauline up ahead and resorted to following her footprints in the snow.

Two hours later we were back down and wandering out along the track towards Blair Atholl and a hot bowl of soup. Streams that had flowed the previous day were now frozen due to the very low temperatures of the previous evening, creating an ice rink across our path every 20 feet or so. For five miles we stumbled and slid ungracefully.

Mind you, at one point Pauline almost managed a full pirouette which wouldn't have been out of place on Dancing On Ice. It was a pretty good 7 out of 10.

Trailer opens doors

Following last weeks disappointment when the door was slammed shut on my attempt to enter the film Sleepless 'til Seattle into the Sundance Film Festival, this week came some better news.

I have been working away on creating a trailer for the film for some time, and by Friday last week the final cut version was posted on YouTube. To keep regular visitors to the website up to date I then created a link using a clip from the film on the home page.

Then it was the busy task of emailing all my contacts, and Gordon Millar, the good friend who takes care of all the film's social media needs, started a Twitter and Facebook push. Within just a few hours the trailer had over 100 hits. Then various contacts on Twitter started to "retweet" our message and the hits soared past 500.

As a result it caught the attention of a local newspaper, The Evening News, and they made contact to arrange an interview with myself and Pauline this Friday morning in their offices, with a view to running a story on it all.

I'll include a link to the story on the next blog.

Only just having arranged the interview, and yet another conversation was had with another journalist from The Times newspaper, who have asked that as soon as the film is accepted into its first festival they want to run a story as well.

If you too would like to see the trailer then just click on the film clapperboard on the right and follow the link on the home page.

Just goes to show, as they say, one door closes another opens.