simonvarwell.co.uk

Yesterday was a long day in Dundee.

The length of the day was not helped by the fact that my train from Inverness to Perth was delayed significantly, firstly before departure due to a late arrival, and secondly at Kingussie due to points failure. Being couped up longer than necessary on such a hot day didn’t help the bout of hayfever I’ve been suffering, and so I spent most of the journey sneezing and blowing my nose. As did many other people – perhaps the rumours of a swine flu increase are true…

Anyway, while I was standing in the vestibule of the carriage just as we approached Perth, where I would be changing for Dundee, I noticed a guy near me in the vestibule moving his bags to the door in the next carriage and repeatedly shouting “for f**k’s sake”. He was exhibiting some rather odd behaviour that would suggest to a layman like me that he had some serious mental health difficulties.

It turned out it was my sneezing he was moving from – he said something about germs and called me a “filthy c**t”. Much as my sneezing was probably unpleasant, his confrontational tone and language was uncalled for, and I told him so. “F**k off”, came the response. Clearly he has issues with basic social situations – so quite what someone like that is doing being allowed to travel alone on trains, I’ve no idea.

When we arrived, the change in Perth was a bit of a hairy one – due to the delays, I’d already missed one connection and simply couldn’t afford to miss the second Dundee train, otherwise I would miss my meeting. I had about a minute to get from platform 4 to platform 2, and after a mad sprint I made it in the nick of time.

As I sat down in my seat, the doors closed and the train pulled slowly away, guess who came running down the steps just a few seconds too late? Yep, got it in one: the sweary mentalist himself.

I promise I tried not to smirk to myself, but I am afraid I failed.

As I believe Confucius put it: “karma’s a bitch, huh?”

Greetings from near Pitlochry where I am trying out the WordPress application on my iPhone en route back from Edinburgh.

I feel should be doing something to celebrate this advancement in blogging technology, but there’s not a lot you can do on a hot, packed train with a dog sitting on your feet and a screaming kid opposite.

Ah well, not long until I get home and meet Niall, who is back from his rig and passing through Inverness for the night.

To pass the time before I get back to some work, here’s a wee anecdote I copied and pasted earlier.

While delayed for a couple of hours before going to Shetland, Nicole and I were sitting in a cafe at Aberdeen airport when we noticed a bit of a ruckus going on near us. A group of young guys were being accosted by various passengers and even airport staff who were keen to get autographs and photos.

Their attire, demeanour and the way they’d spontaneously start shaking their limbs to some silent rhythm, as if they were epileptics on dope, suggested to me they were dancers or rap artists of some sort. With their unnecessarily dark sunglasses, dreadlocks and self-confident swaggers, I wondered if it was perhaps even a support group for blind Rastafarians on the hip replacement waiting list.

Nicole and I had no idea what the fuss was about until they were all shepherded away by some officials, and as they moved past us I noticed they had badges on them which said “Britain’s Got Talent on Tour”.

Even though neither of us have a TV we are sadly not impervious to the dirge that is Britain’s Got Talent, and I vaguely recall that a Gordon Brown lookalike lost out in the final to a spoilt brat and a gang of street dancers.

This must have been them, I figured. What were they called? Diversity, or So Solid Juniors, or ^R-Selvz or something like that.

Good on them, though, and I hope their fifteen minutes are fun while they last until they break up and enter a lives of drugs and crime. Or, more likely, insurance or accountancy.

Needless to say, they didn’t recognise me.

Not that they let on, anyway.

On Monday morning next week, I have a dentist’s appointment.

In Glasgow.

It’s a source of minor irritation (and a reflection of Weegieland’s poor health) that I could easily find an NHS dentist when I moved there, but have never managed to do so up here. Being away from internet access the last few days has meant I’ve missed out on the cheap train tickets too, and I suppose I am paying a lot more to get to my appointment than I would pay in fees if I went private here in Inverness.

Am I cutting off my nose to spite my face by refusing to go private? The principled political animal in me says no, and it will be nice to be able to see friends and visit St Silas on the Sunday night. But it is a long way to go just to get poked in the mouth and no doubt it is a dilemma I will return to in the future. Maybe you have views on this which I can chew over (couldn’t resist the pun!).

In other news, I’ve uploaded the first batch of photos from the Shetland trip. They’re mostly of Sumburgh Head, where Nicole and I visited as soon as we’d landed at the airport which is, like Sumburgh Head itself, right at the southern tip of Shetland’s mainland.

It’s a major bird-spotting location, and as we wandered through the slightly eerie abandoned lighthouse and went puffin-spotting, we did so alongside some hardcore birders who had massive cameras and very birdwatcher woolly hats on.

I know they’re probably birder chic, but the hats were quite unnecessary – the weather was stunning, a theme which would dominate the rest of the trip.

I’ll post more photos and an accompanying blurb later on in the week. For now, I need to get to bed – back to work tomorrow, and a long day trip to Edinburgh.

I got back from Shetland earlier this afternoon, after six absolutely roasting hot days. The weather was fantastic, the food and beer wonderful, and we had a great time exploring, beach-combing, island-hopping, catching up with friends and randomly bumping into others.

While away, though, my old phone contract expired and my new one (the iPhone) started, but it’s only now that I have been able to get my iPhone online and properly activated, meaning I was out of contact for a few days.

Lots more about Shetland to follow…

One thing I have done this weekend is get my iPhone. It’s really quite a wonderful piece of kit – phone, iPod, camera, video recorder, web browser and loads more all in one wee handheld thingamyjig. Excellent.

One thing I haven’t done this weekend, despite the moderate appeal of seeing Delirious? before they quit, is go to the big evangelism event that’s been going on in Inverness this weekend, egotistically called the Luis Palau festival. I am slightly alarmed at the hype that has accompanied this event in the past few months, as if one man can turn the world upside down and save the sinners all by himself, and as if Jesus himself isn’t actually the focus. Moreover, are Inverness’s churches really that rubbish that we need some long-feted demi-god to come and rescue us? And even if they are, is one man saying some stuff over one weekend the solution?

I’ll stop now before I go on another rant. And anyway, it’s time to leave for church…

I got back from a lovely weekend in Aberdeen yesterday, staying with Nicole in Swish Towers, helping Mark and Claire move, and enjoying the warm sunshine.

Well, I say “sunshine”: it wasn’t. The sky was rarely blue, with a thick cloud cover basking Aberdeen in a light grey, dusty aura that perfectly suited the city and through which the sun failed to burn. Yet, strangely, it didn’t rain a drop, remaining very bright and very warm. So more cloudshine than sunshine, I suppose, if I can be excused for inventing a word.

Over the weekend I also saw Star Trek (very good but not quite excellent), got introduced to The Field (definitely excellent), took a couple of photos (less than excellent), and ate a lot of food (always excellent).

Today, I was working in Perth, but – the joys of long, summer days – got back early enough to make the most of the roasting hot late afternoon and take an amble through the Ness Islands (photos here).

A few other random things to draw your attention to before I go:

• a fascinating article on BBC News about the logistical mountain that is the creation of English football fixture schedules
• one of the most outstanding pictures I’ve seen of Aberdeen on Flickr
• I am now in possession of my PAC number, and it’s four days and counting until I get an iPhone
• I am in Aberdeen the next couple of days, and need to be up before 6.30am tomorrow for the second morning in a row. I expect your sympathy
• This book is very good. I finished it the other week and frankly am unlikely to get round to a proper review (but the author‘s previous book is outstanding and also well worth reading)

After enjoying a relatively sedate week off at home, there is no rest for the sanctimonious because more travels loom on the horizon.

I was in sunny Dundee yesterday, and am spending this coming weekend in Aberdeen. Next week, I am working in Perth and Aberdeen, followed by my first weekend at home in Inverness for ages.

The following week sees two days’ work in Shetland, which I am turning into a long weekend for which Nicole will be joining me. I am really looking forward to the chance to see much more than what I squeeze into my work trips normally. It will be the height of the summer, so plenty daylight to get out and do stuff, take photos and go exploring.

Meanwhile, the great Explosions in the Sky dilemma has been resolved – I have plumped for the Sheffield gig. September should be quite a cultured month, then, what with Explosions in the Sky, Coldplay and Dave Gorman. Next thing you know, I’ll be listening to Picasso and quoting Beethoven. Or something.

My phone is working again, thankfully. I have, however, lost various recent numbers from it, for reasons I can’t be bothered explaining – so if you gave me your mobile number in the last year or two, perhaps you’d be so good as to text me, telling me who you are.

Unless you’d be glad for the chance to be shot of me, of course.

My new temporary phone will only be with me a matter of weeks, however, because the new iPhone is coming – and seeing as how my contract is up, it’s a perfect time to defect.

In other news, I had a nice weekend in Ballater, rounding off an interesting and refreshing week off. I even spent a morning in the town of my birth, Dingwall, for reasons I’ll divulge in the next few weeks.

Here’s a couple of photos I’ve taken over the past few days. I took plenty more but few were any good.

Tomorrow, work sees me heading off to Dundee. Wave if you see me.

Annoyingly, the screen on my mobile broke earlier today.

The phone still works, I just can’t see what I am doing and therefore am unable to make calls from my address book or send or receive texts. I can, however, receive calls, check voicemail and dial numbers (hoping I press the right buttons in doing so).

So if you don’t get a reply to any text you send me, that’s why.

Never fear, though – thanks to a cheap second-hand handset, I’ll be up and running again on Monday, albeit without some numbers stored only on my old handset. More on which later.

Meanwhile, I am off to Nicole’s for the weekend. Wave if you see me.

The UK goes to the polls tomorrow – much of England for council elections, and all of us for the European Parliament elections, with much of the rest of the European Union to follow on Sunday.

It should prove to be an exciting and potentially seismic day. The Labour government in Westminster seems to be lurching from crisis to crisis, with Gordon Brown seeming so out of control of events that I am almost tempted to feel sorry for him. Almost, until I remind myself of his record since becoming Prime Minister and before that as Tony Blair’s Chancellor.

Labour are predicted by some to come fourth – can you believe that? – after the Tories, LibDems and UKIP, with minor parties predicted to make gains too. While I am all for a diversity of political views among our elected representatives, the flip side of the current discontent is that the far-right BNP are expected to make another breakthrough. Although given that turnout is forecast to be very low, I believe that any BNP success will be as much down to those who stay at home on polling day as those who vote for them. To paraphrase the famous saying, all that requires for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing.

In terms of the Scottish dimension to the election, it’s not going to be a remarkable result, I don’t think – the six seats will almost certainly be split two each for Labour and the SNP, and one each for the Tories and LibDems, with the only doubt being over whether Labour keep their second seat.

Oh, and incidentally, Scotland’s total of six seats in the European Parliament (with a population of 5 million people) compares pathetically with shares of other similarly-sized countries: Finland (5.3m), Denmark (5.5m) and Slovakia (5.3m) have 13; and Ireland (4.4m) and Lithuania (3.3m) have 12. Cyprus (0.8m), Estonia (1.3m) and Luxembourg (0.5m), meanwhile, boast the same number of seats as Scotland.

The difference? Unlike Scotland, those countries are independent, of course. No prizes for guessing where my vote will be going tomorrow.

In other news, it’s more or less the middle of my week off, and yesterday’s glorious sunshine has been replaced by grey skies again, which has been a good incentive to stay inside and write. Tonight, I am off to the cinema for the first time in ages – to see the latest installment in the Terminator series, Terminator: Salvation. Should be good.