A PLAYGROUND FOR GENTLEMEN

Corrour station in the Highlands of Scotland is the highest on a mainline railway in the UK, and one of the most remote, with the nearest road 10 miles away. Sir John Stirling-Maxwell bought Corrour Estate in 1891, initially as a "playground for gentlemen".

On a stunningly beautiful day, myself and two friends, Andrew and Roger, set out from Rannoch Station late morning, having caught a very early train out of Edinburgh. Both Andrew and I had walked this path once before with Pauline, and on that occasion a large part of it was literally a muddy swamp.

The route in question is the Road to the Isles, and starts 4km east from Rannoch station and heads north toward Corrour. We had full packs with us, as we had planned to spend an overnight camping, near to the picturesque Loch Ossian. Both Andrew and I were pleasantly surprised that the path had recovered to a large degree from the previous time, thanks in part to additional drainage ditches having been dug.

Just 15km later, having stopped briefly at the ruins of the old Corrour Lodge, where I admired a very red-looking Common Frog, we were at our camp spot for the night, a delightful ruin of an old house, a place I know is very special to Pauline. It is in a stunning setting and Pauline has photographs of the old house in virtually every season. It is quite photogenic, as Andrew found out to his delight. He is prone to taking a lot of photographs when we are in the hills, and on this occasion he outdid himself and confessed that if ever an architect required comprehensive evidence of the architecture of the ruin from every possible angle, he had it covered. I had never camped at the ruin before so I was particularly looking forward to it.

Our three tents set up, and supper prepared and consumed, I relaxed in the late evening sunshine watching the sun set over the Grey Corries to the north, still with remnants of winter snow. There was not a breath of wind, except from Andrew in his tent, and the silence was only broken by the last train heading north across this remote land.

Roger is very knowledgable about bird life, and he was able to point out the many species we encountered during the day. We saw Wheatears, Common Sandpiper, Wagtails, and on one occasion, a Merlin, which apparently was quite rare to catch sight of.  As Andrew and Roger were busy inside their tents, two eagles soared past, heading south, presumably to hunt at Blackwater Reservoir a few kilometres way.

The following morning could not have been more different. During the night it had rained relentlessly and by dawn there was low cloud everywhere. We packed up our wet tents late morning and set off for Corrour Station. There was talk of mutiny, and catching the early train home, but I was determined to stay, optimistic it would clear up.

It didn't.

After the south bound 12.30 train had left we set off up the nearby small peak of Leum Ullieum. Usually the view from the top is spectacular, as it had been on a previous occasion. It really feels like this hill is smack in the middle of all the famous mountains of Scotland, with Glencoe to our west and Ben Nevis to our north. We knew they were there somewhere, but on this occasion we were lucky to keep sight of each other in the low dense cloud along the summit ridge.

After several short heavy showers of rain it decided to come on monsoon-style. The decent was slippy and boggy and by the time we reached Corrour station again none of us had any item of clothing on that was even remotely dry. For those staying at the expensive B&B opposite the station it must have been quite entertaining as three men stripped to their undies in the station shelter.

With a hot cup of tea and shortbread on the way home on the train, this three gentlemen all agreed we had enjoyed our time in the playground of Corrour.

3 DAYS OF SCREECHING

Two days ago an event happened that always makes me smile: it was the tell tale sound of screeching high up above. The swifts had returned from nine months in Africa to the skies around my home.

They are incredible flyers, twisting and turning at high speed like natures military air display. In fact swifts are the fastest of all birds in level flight, with the highest speed recorded at 69mph. For the average six years of their life they never land except to breed. Just above my bedroom window a pair of swifts have nested for the past few years, which is an added bit of fun to this annual visit. The distinctive high pitched screech they make as they dive and streak across the sky is unmistakable, and occasionally they swoop down and back out again into my small enclosed garden, clearly having lots of fun. They truly take my breath away.

Speaking of which, the day after the swifts arrived I was driving my van to drop off some building materials. As I was going to head out for a cycle afterwards, I had loaded my bike in the back. As I approached traffic lights there was a sudden loud screech lasting about five seconds from the rear of the van. Initially I thought that maybe a tyre on the bike had burst, but the sound was unfamiliar and chilling. As I pondered what on earth it could be the cab started to fill up with what looked like smoke and I could barely breath. I pulled over quickly and opened the side doors of the rear of the van. Immediately a dense cloud of blue powder billowed out. The bike had come loose of its bungy cord and fallen onto a powder fire extinguisher. In five seconds flat it had emptied the entire contents into the rear of the van, covering every square inch in fine powder, in places a centimetre deep. It took almost two hours to clean it up, but I reckon I'll be finding the fine dust forever more. Not as an enjoyable a sound as the screech of the swifts. At the time it made my blood run cold.

Which brings me neatly to the last screech of the past week. Yesterday I had to have some blood taken for some tests the doctor wants to do. Probably nothing to be worried about as the main reason is to check my cholesterol levels. Anyway, for as long as I can remember I have had a phobia of needles. I even turn away from the TV screen if a needle comes into view to go into someone's arm, but lying there seeing it happen live is not something I cope with very well.

Let's just say that's one screech no one wants to hear.

FIND A PENNY PICK IT UP . . .

"Find a penny, pick it up, and all day long you'll have good luck.

Give the penny to a friend, and then your luck will never end".

OK, so superstitious nonsense perhaps, but how many of us do this I wonder? After a little bit of research I discovered that the saying has it's origins in ancient cultures, who believed that metal was a gift from the gods given to man to protect him against evil.

There are many sayings connected to the humble penny, the lowest denomination of coin:

A penny pincher is someone who is fanatical about savings tactics;

Penny wise and foolish implies that one's efforts to manage money are a bit careless;

A pretty penny is used to describe that something you paid for was expensive;

A penny saved is a penny earned, refers to the fact that saving is just as important as earning;

Without two pennies to rub together tends to refer to people who never have any money in their pocket;
And finally, in for a penny in for a pound, means when an opportunity comes along you dive in with maximum effort.

As a complete aside to this blog, my best friend Pauline has well and truly lived up to this last saying: on Tuesday this week she clocked up just shy of 2,600 miles on her bicycle, having cycled from Edinburgh to the North Cape in Norway, Europe's most northerly point.  If you'd like to catch up with her exploits just follow this link.

On the same day as Pauline was battling snow and ice in the Arctic Circle, I too was out on my bicycle, but in far better weather, scooting about all over Edinburgh for four hours, delivering leaflets promoting one of my businesses. When I stopped to chain up my bicycle at strategic points and went on foot for a while, I found five individual pennies over the course of the day.

This got me to thinking.

Imagine if only three-quarters of the people in the world, roughly the adult population, found just one penny, once every two weeks. Over the course of just one year that comes to a whopping 1 billion pounds, or 1.5 billion US dollars!!

Think I'll start keeping those pennies to myself!

11 DAYS OF STUFF

I recently watched a documentary about the rise, and rise, of the online retailer Amazon. Though it started with just books it now sells pretty much everything. Stuff, basically, most of which we don't need but have been lured into thinking we do by manipulative advertising, or that cliche of, retail therapy.

I'm not long back home from a few days in London, where I was attending an assessment course for a possible youth work contract. As I sat in various workshops I couldn't help noticing how often people were checking their mobile devices, even when it hadn't made a noise for an incoming text or some such thing.  The younger the person, the more they checked it. During lunch someone was ordering something on, you guessed it, Amazon, using their tablet. Clearly it just couldn't wait until they were home.

During one afternoon we were out and about on the streets of London, and I lost count of the number of people I almost walked into who had their heads down, transfixed by their mobile phone. This was also a mid-week day, and the streets were crowded with people out shopping, laden down with bags of stuff. Probably hoping that this new purchase would be the one to make them happy.

Everywhere, on buses, shop windows, neon sings and people handing out fliers, were adverts trying to convince us to buy.

This "stuff" all has a consequence of course, in terms of the rare natural resources we are consuming at an ever increasing rate. Much like the train I travelled on, we are heading to a destination that has a definitive end, at an ever increasing pace. As we consume, consume, and consume some more, we are eventually going to run out of track, very abruptly. As the train announcer put it, when we arrived at our destination; "...where this train terminates".

I'm reminded of a saying by a Hindu Sadhu:

"If we don't change our ways we are likely to arrive where we are headed".

My journey home seemed to be a gradual reverse of the chaos of London. Gradually over the five hours back to Edinburgh, the train emptied of people and grew steadily quiet. I stepped out onto the night street of Edinburgh to a fine, refreshing drizzle, a pleasant change from the oily grime that I had accumulated in London. After a short bus ride home I wandered slowly down the street where I live and out onto the edge of the beach next to my house, with just the gentle sound of the waves caressing the shoreline.

And, relax.

The next time you think that some retail therapy will make you happy, and that one gadget you've been longing for and have been persuaded to acquire, remember this interesting statistic; the average length of time that a new purchased item, whether it be a shirt or a car, is a novelty or has special appeal, is just 11 days.

Then it just becomes part of your general collection of stuff.

A COLOURFUL DAY

If there's one thing you can say about Spring, and that is, it's colourful. While out on a short run on my bicycle I was amazed at the variety of colours.

One of my favourite local routes takes me through Newhailes Estate, and just now the area is a palette of rainbow colours.

The daffodils are coming to an end, but I still managed to find a nice spread in the grounds.

I loved these  bright yellow bells so much I bought a small potted bunch of them and filmed them on time lapse as they opened up, which you can see in this 12 second video on YouTube.

Just around the corner from them, among the trees of a native wood, were the bluebells. A week ago they were just about to open, but now they are in full bloom, though I suspect even more have yet to open.

Further along was a collection of different wildflowers together, one of which I have had difficulty in identifying.  I asked everyone I thought might know, but I couldn't get a positive ID.  (it's the small pink flower in the photo). Finally I asked an expert friend of mine who used to be a director at The Royal Botanical Gardens in Edinburgh. They are in fact Anemone Nemerosa, or, the Wood Anemone. So there!

As well as an abundance of colours comes an abundance of colourful scents as well.  Two of the strongest around on this day were the distinctive aroma of coconut from the gorse bushes and the pungent odour of the wild garlic.

But what must be my favourite display of colour, albeit short-lived, has to be the amazing cherry blossom in the local park just round the corner from my house.

And with the trees going from bare to lush green in just a matter of weeks, it all certainly adds up to a  colourful day.

EASTER ROLLING

At Easter people gather and roll their brightly painted eggs down slopes. For me, Easter weekend this year was about rolling my tires along two of my favourite bike routes.

We've had very high winds for weeks on end, well into the mid 20mph, gusting much higher, and cold grey skies. So when I awoke to bright blue skies and zero wind at the weekend I knew it was bike ride weather.

Route one was fairly challenging, with seven hill climbs involved, to take me from my home out to the nearby Pentland Hills. I wrote of this run back in June last year, and you can read the details of it here. Fishermen were out in their little boats, with the blue azure of the sky perfectly reflected in the calm waters of the reservoirs. On this occasion, despite it being horizon to horizon blue sky, it was still quite chilly, and when, after 16 miles, I stopped for lunch just beyond Loganlea Reservoir, I was glad I'd brought an extra layer. Lunch was a box of green salad, all part of my weight loss drive for the next few weeks.

Another 10 miles further on, I detoured from my usual route and left the Water of Leith to join the Union Canal into the centre of Edinburgh, where I met a friend for coffee. A skinny latte, of course.

Another six miles later and I was home once again.

The following day was another equally sunny day, with slightly higher winds and thus lower temperatures. Today's run was a 34 mile round trip to my old high school town of Penicuik. I've also written of this route before, here, but not since October 2012.

The first leg of this journey took me east to Musselburgh, then I turned south to follow the River Esk for a short distance, but I would join one of it's tributaries again some 15 miles or so further up the trail. Just beyond this river side trail is the tiny village of Danderhall, and the starting point of what I fondly call a "rails to trails" route that would take me out to Penicuik. If you do the math of the mileage it shows on this sign in the photo, it looks like my route was 22 miles there and 22 miles back. In actual fact it worked out at 17 each way. Go figure.

The next town was the sprawling settlement of Dalkeith, and just a little way into the town, at the start of another rails to trails section, was a delightful water tower, clearly converted now into someone's home. But turns out there's more to it. Built in 1879, it was converted into a private dwelling in 1987. I've since discovered that a chef called Gerry Goldwyre, has converted it into a "private dining experience". You hire him and the place for 12 people at a cost of £600 and you get his culinary experience.

As I said earlier, it had been a year and a half since I'd last cycled this trail. During that time a new railway had started being constructed, linking Edinburgh to the Borders town of Galashiels.  It is still under construction, and follows an original route that was closed down 50 years ago. The down side of this is the cycle route through the western side of the busy town of Dalkeith has gone, as it used the old rail line. Now I was forced through the centre of town and busy roundabouts until I was able to pick up the route again. I'm hoping they will improve this once the railway is completed. A letter is due I think.

Just an hour and a half after leaving home I arrived in Penicuik, with the route following alongside the North Esk river as it makes its way to Musselburgh. The last 10 miles since Dalkeith had been entirely on cycle trail, also an abandoned rail line, and was a complete joy. However, this route has one drawback; it's not circular, and I followed the same route back home again.

Just a mile from the end of my 34-mile run I detoured through the nearby National Trust of Scotland site of Newhailes. I knew from memory that in a large clearing there where masses of bluebells. They were starting to come out but by the look of them they needed another week yet to be at their best.

On the final day of Easter, before breakfast, I had a 3rd, much shorter run, up and over the nearby volcanic hill of Arthurs Seat, with it's commanding views over the City of Edinburgh.

Returning home it was time for an Easter treat of eggs. Not chocolate though, but soft boiled duck eggs on toast!.

SEWING

This afternoon I'm doing a little sewing. Not very interesting in itself, but let me explain.

Some time ago I wrote about a forthcoming plan to lose some weight. That was about three months ago and since then, well, I've done nothing about it.

Until Saturday, last weekend.

I had arranged a meeting this week for a possible new short term contract, and as I don't possess a suit I thought I would buy a good quality dress shirt for the occasion. So on Saturday I wandered up to a local clothing store and quickly found one in a medium size that I liked, and took this to the fitting rooms.

Inside the cubicle were an arrangement of mirrors that are carefully arranged so as to show you all angles of your body. I tried the shirt on and to my dismay found it was too tight. I then tried on the same style in large and this fitted.  It has been a very long time since medium did not fit me.  Just to make sure I tried the medium on again, but alas, it was definitely too tight. Disappointed, I exaggerated my tummy bulge by artificially pushing it out and off flew the top button of my trousers, pinging off the mirror.

That was it. I was on a mission.

I was seeing friends that evening and took the remaining biscuits and cakes from my kitchen and handed them over to my friends to consume. On the same day I went into overdrive with my food plan.

For this past week, every day, I have been eating porridge in the morning made with fat-free milk, then either a salad or my own homemade soup for lunch, and in the evening a plate of homemade roasted veg with brown rice. No snacks of any kind, and copious amounts of water.

As well as this new food plan I'm doing a number of stomach curls first thing in the morning and again last thing at night (I'm building up the number) and go for a one-hour bike ride up a nearby hill called Arthurs Seat, which has a very steep approach and pushes my heart rate up for good period of time. Tomorrow I'm off for a five-hour ride through the nearby Pentland Hills range.

Just before I sat down to write this blog I decided to weigh myself. I wasn't expecting any change at all, but to my surprise I've dropped just over one kilo, about 2lbs!!!  OK, so it's early days, but that was a nice surprise.  Prior to starting this I was aware that I was over my ideal weight by about 5kilos, but I wasn't gaining anymore over the past few months, so I was fairly confident I might lose it quickly. Update to follow.

Now to finish sewing that button back on!