Monday, March 14, 2005
Steve Todd And The Temple of Doom
03/14/2005
A grey day with snow to start with as I wake up, then low cloud and mist. By midday, it is raining and more to come, temperature plus six degrees and a light breeze from the southwest. I spend almost twelve hours away at Arichastlich, as a lot of discussion is needed about Diana Drummond’s marketing for the summer. However, I do walk there with the dogs and walk home again over the high pass, as it gets dark. As we tramp along, I muse on the sense of living in such remote areas, particularly after such a wonderful sociable weekend. Here we are in the glens without any facilities or amenities and friends rare. If we were to live on the outskirts of a small market town, say Oban or Elgin, we would have hospitals, dentists, newspapers, taxis and Tesco would deliver our every need. We could also involve ourselves in some regular social life and even some arts in the form of cinema, music and entertainment. In the long run, I have to say that Glen Trollaigh suits us better, here we lose the advantages listed above, but we can lead our lives the way we chose and the airport and motorway systems are only an hour and a half away. Perhaps the price of fuel and energy will decide where we see out our days. Is it not strange, that however lucky one is, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence! Amongst the news, we learn that Caledonian MacBrayne ferry employees have voted for strike action in protest against lifeline ferry services being put out to tender as directed by Europe. This is an interesting one, as it seems daft, on the face of it that our ferry services should be put out to tender, just more euro-babble. However, Calmac is government owned and perhaps a private operator could provide cheaper and more efficient services to our islands. A strike at this time only shows that the present system is dodgy. The action cannot possibly make any difference at the end of the day, and it is interesting that Steve Todd is the union boss involved, a man well known to be slightly left of Stalin. What might be the hidden agenda? This one is going to run! Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Sunday Lunch in Aberlour
03/13/2005
I relax by a Sunday night fire with a glass of the new Wolf Blass Red Label sparkling beside me. What an excellent weekend. The weather has been kind with strong breezes from the west to northwest. Dry apart from the odd wintery flurry, but very cold. Overhead we have had everything from overcast skies, to pale blue with sunshine. The Kerrs arrive at Saturday lunchtime and sweep dearest Dotty and I northward, Fort William, Spean Bridge, over the high road through Ardverikie Estate to Kenmore, Kingussie, Aviemore, and Carrbridge. Then the dramatic final push over the moors past Lochindorb to reach the Moray Firth at Forres. After such excitement, we motor gently into Elgin and our hosts at Mayne House. A wonderful evening followed catching up with all the news and gossip with a group of chums connected by Kilmacolm and Gordonstoun. Into bed in the early hours for an excellent, deep sleep in rural Moray. To-day we enjoy a brisk and snowy walk along the Spey side Way to Aberlour, meeting up with all our party at The Mash Tub for Sunday Lunch. We leave at three and retrace out steps to Argyll by 6.15. A magical and relaxing interlude before a hectic work schedule planned for next week. Poor old Scotland received a bit of a mauling from Wales at Murrayfield to-day; Wales may go on to achieve the Grand Slam. We will sleep well in the Great Bed of Trollaigh tonight. However, first we will stay up to watch the start of the new dramatisation of Casanova on BBC3. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.