Tom Morton's Other Beatcroft

Up at 5.30am (no sweat, can’t sleep anyway) last tidy of the flat and then see if the squelched knee (making alarming creaking noises) will carry me undergroundwards. Hillhead opens for Outer Circle action at 06.33, so me and a few washed-andscrubbed early birds are ready for the working day. Not even bleary. And the leg is holding up, thanks to the walking stick.

Buchanan Street, which is a mistake, as I’m getting the bus, not the train. Cowcaddens is nearer. Never mind, the AM/PM cafe is open at the bus station, and for four quid I get a gigantic portion of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and tea. Great. For whatever reason, bus station cafes usually are. The closure of the fab greasy spoon at Aberdeen is a major cultual and culinary loss.

Bus leaves promptly at 6.40 am. Smells funny. I have a feeling the chemical toilet is swilling about a bit too much on corners. Only about 10 other folk aboard.

There’s a huge queue of traffic at the Broxburn roundabout approaching Perth, and when we finally reach the bus halt, next to the Travelodge, the problem is explained to us: fatal accident on the Friarton Bridge, road closed. All traffic having to go through Perth, and anyway there’s no driver. He’s stuck on the way in from Dundee.

Half an hour passes. I have to say I like Megabus. All their staff are friendly, polite but efficient in a way which you sense reflects a fierce company refusal to accept shit from anyone. Even the passengers. Somebody who complains about arriving in Aberdeen late is robustly informed that  ‘someone has been killed, my dear’. Quite.

Getting through Perth takes ages. I’m always slightly disappointed in Perth. The river should be the centre of town, not a kind of adjunct. Finally we  are on the Dundee road, and motoring. Jute Central arrives, and an apologetic driver announces that legally, because he’s been driving for such an unexpectedly long time, he is now obliged to take a half hour break.

There’s no moaning. We’ve learned our lesson. And anyway, within five minutes, a new driver has been found and we’re on our way.

It’s about 11.40 am when we roll into the precincts of Union Square in Aberdeen. All told, four hours isn’t so bad. The taxi to the BBC costs more than the Megabus Aberdeen-Glasgow-Aberdeen fare.

The show done, it’s another taxi to the airport. The threat of sea-fog closing Sumburgh is ever present at this time of year, but we take off (FlyBe) on time at 6.30pm, landing an hour later in cloud low enough to cancel flights in the old days. I remember desperate, three-times around the airfield  approaches of the past, the British Airways staff handing out copious fresh drink every time we tried to land. Then going back to Aberdeen for a riotous, free night in a hotel before trying again next morning.

Not this time. We’re on the ground, in nasty, grey, cold weather. Welcome to Shetland. An hour and 10 minutes by car and I’m home. 8.40pm. Long day.

Here’s me, Rob Allanson from Whisky Magazine and Vladimir McTavish (alias Paul Sneddon) at the launch today of The Barnard Challenge at the Scotch Whisky Experience in Edinburgh. The bike is a Triumph Speed Triple – me and Rob will be using identical models for our 2000 mile-plus trip. The whisky is part of the extraordinary collection of more than 3000 bottles held in Edinburgh.

Here’s the press release:
Biggest whisky pilgrimage will raise cash for film star’s charity

The Barnard Challenge 2010 – A comedian, a broadcaster, an actor, thousands of miles, millions of gallons of whisky. And all for charity.

PRESS LAUNCH: The Scotch Whisky Experience, 354 Castle Hill
Edinburgh EH1 2NE, Monday 21st June, 09.45.

It is 125 years since an eccentric traveller called Alfred Barnard set out to visit every distillery – 162 – in Scotland, England, Ireland and Wales. It took him three years to do it, and the result was the most important book every published about the water of life: The monumental Whisky Distilleries of Great Britain and Ireland.

Now an actor, a comedian, a journalist and a broadcaster will attempt to equal his feat – starting this June with visits to 50 of the distilleries currently operating (out of 106) including an epic motorcycle trip taking in the most northerly and southerly Scottish distilleries, along with one each in England, Ireland and Wales. The 2010 leg will conclude at the Tartan Heart Festival, Belladrum, near Beauly, followed by a charity auction of special whiskies, signed by all the participants, from each distillery visited.

It is the beginning of The Barnard Challenge, and the main beneficiary will be a charity set up and run by top Scottish actor David Hayman, Spirit Aid.

David is the star of TV’s Trial and Retribution, as well as many big screen epics such as The Jackal with Bruce Willis, and The Tailor of Panama, starring Pierce Brosnan. He is the operations director for Spirit Aid, which is dedicated to children whose lives have been devastated by war, genocide, poverty, abuse or lack of opportunity at home and abroad.

“I’m thrilled that a celebration of Scotland’s spirit will, appropriately, highlight the work of Spirit Aid, and the needs of children both here in Scotland and across the world,’ said Hayman. ‘I didn’t even like whisky until a couple of years ago, when I was given a masterclass in its wonders by the great Richard Paterson. Now, not only do I appreciate its greatness, but I love the fact that it illustrates the essence of Scotland – generosity, hospitality and conviviality.”

Paterson, master blender for distilling giant Whyte and Mackay, is a legend in the industry and among whisky lovers for his spectacular tasting sessions and passionate enthusiasm for whisky’s unique qualities. those attending a Paterson tasting are warned: “If he sees you drinking whisky too quickly, he’ll slap you. And if he sees you holding a tasting glass the wrong way, he’ll kill you.”wPaterson will be conducting a masterclass at Belladrum, along with the editor of Whisky Magazine, Rob Allanson, Stephen Rankin of distillers, blenders and bottlers Gordon and Macphail, and the writer and broadcaster Tom Morton.

“This is a dream come true for me ,” said Paterson. “Barnard is a crucial figure in the history of whisky and for many years I have longed to see his achievement celebrated properly. This is a fitting tribute to the man, his muse and his mission.”

Morton and Allanson will, in 10 days, use motorcycles to visit Scotland’s most northerly distillery, Highland Park in Orkney and the southernmost, Bladnoch in Wigtown. They will also go to the most northerly mainland distillery, Old Pulteney in Wick, as well as Bushmills in Antrim, Northern Ireland, Midleton in Cork, Republic of Ireland, Penderyn in Wales and St George’s in Norfolk, currently England’s only whisky producer.

Morton, BBC Radio Scotland’s weekday afternoon presenter, wrote the seminal whisky travelogue Spirit of Adventure in 1992, later made into an STV series.

“Rob and I will be covering over 2000 miles on motorcycles, so any drinking will have to be extremely moderate,” he said. “We aim to collect bottles from each distillery for auction, and I hope people will follow in our wheeltracks in later years – the Barnard Challenge is a continuing charity project and I’m hoping people will visit distilleries on pushbikes, on footm, on horseback, following Barnard, having fun, enjoying the occasional dram and raising money for Spirit Aid.”

And if all this wasn’t enough, step forward, Mr Valdimir MacTavish – or, to give him his Sunday name, Paul Sneddon. One of Scotland’s top comedians, Paul will be visiting up to 30 distilleries, some with David, and will use his experiences and some filming of the trip in his Edinburgh Festival Fringe Show An idiot’s Guide To Whisky. An hilariously sobering look at drink and its role in the Scottish psyche, the show will use a mixture of stand-up, stories, poetry and short film to look at the vital contribution drink has made to Caledonian culture. As Paul/Vladimir says: “No-one has ever been to a teetotal ceilidh. And no sober person could ever have invented the bagpipes.”

“It’s going to be a frantic period of activity,” said David Hayman, “and it works on several levels. The Barnard Challenge revives the story of the extraordinary man who was Alfred Barnard, draws attention to Scotland’s national drink, raises money for charity and offers anyone the chance to get involved by setting up their own mini – or maxi – Barnard Challenge. Nnext year It would be great to see dozens of folks involved, and dozens of means of transport.”

END

The Barnard Challenge, in partnership with Spirit Aid (http://www.spiritaid.org.uk), is supported by:

Scottish Ethical Events Ltd and Fairpley Ltd ( http://www.fairpley.com )
Triumph Motorcycles Ltd ( http://www.triumph.co.uk )
The Mediacroft ( http://www.mediacroft.eu )
Whyte and Mackay ( http://whyteandmackay.co.uk )
Gordon and MacPhail ( http://gordonandmacphail.com )
Belladrum Festival ( http://tartanheartfestival.co.uk )
Square Wheels Ltd ( http://squarewheels.cubecycles.co.uk/ )
Whisky Magazine (http://www.whiskymag.com)

The Scotch Whisky Experience (www.whisky-heritage.co.uk)

Additional Websites/Biographies/background:
The Barnard Challenge ( http://www.barnardchallenge.org )
Alfred Barnard on Wikipedia ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_Barnard )
Vladimir MacTavish (aka Paul Sneddon) (http://www.comedycv.co.uk/paulsneddon/index.htm
Tom Morton on Wikipedia ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Morton )
Richard Paterson ( http://www.themasterblender.com/ )

Thanks to Fraser Hamilton over in Michigan for forwarding these images – billboards found throughout Detroit, aimed, presumably at boosting the self-image of long-term GM customers and residents. No songs about Volvos? Maybe not. But I can think of songs about Vauxhall Veluxes, Grey Cortinas and MGBs…

Up at 6.00am, befuddled by the combination of new Casio alarm clock and light-defying eye mask. Another calm, quiet day in the Greater Zetlandics, and I don’t think…

One carton of probiotic gunk, and it’s into the Subaru to go and fetch Martha from the Aberdeen ferry, due in at 7.30am. We’re 37 miles from Lerwick. Still groggy, I slot in the new Steve Miller album (Bingo, old blues covers, splendid) and turn it up loud. That’s why, on reversing around our personal roundabout, I don’t notice any crunching noise as I collide with the Citroen C4. No damage to the Scooby, bashed back door for the French pile of junk. Bad karma for the day? Huh.

Lerwick, to see the ferry docking. Martha’s off quickly, anxious to get to school (mega magazine duties, before her next trip south, on Thursday night’s boat). She’s just back from a fiddle workshop in, of all places, Grantham. She, almost alone of the party, has not succumbed to Norovirus.

Home (37 miles), Martha changed, get row from Susan for bashing (my own) car. James (recovering from appendicitis) has to take Lulu the St Bernard to vet for operation. 35 miles away in Scalloway. He agrees to drop Martha off at school on the way (12 miles).

Now all we have to work out is what to do about tonight. Susan is going into Lerwick (37 miles) with Magnus, both working there today. But tonight, Martha is playing cello in a charity orchestra bash. We need to be there, as loyal fans, but then so does she. And she needs transport. From the house, as she’ll be getting the bus back after school (12 miles).

I, meanwhile, have to go to Lerwick to do the show (37 miles). I plan to take the bus, stay in town, see the gig and get a lift back (37 miles) with Susan and Magnus (who has been strongarmed into attending a classical concert). They’re going to wait in town and get some tea before the performance. But how does Martha get into town with cello? I calculate there’s just enough time for me to get back on the bus (37 miles) pick her up and go back to Lerwick (37 miles) where I can leave the car and get a lift home with Susan, Mag and Martha (37 miles) having consumed hasty pints of Valhalla ale.

But no. James phones. Lulu’s getting her operation today and will be ready to head home around 4.30pm. Could I drive into Lerwick for the show (37 miles) and pick the dog up on my way home (37 miles plus a 10-miles detour)?

I agree to do this. Deal now is that James will take Martha into town tonight (37 miles) and back (37 miles) if he’s feeling OK. Otherwise I will do it (74 miles round trip, third of the day).

And yes, all this does involve three cars, not counting the bus. Such is the radical carbonisation of our collective footprint caused by a large dog and a daughter who plays the fiddle and cello.

To the Shetland Classic Motor Show, while Martha was off doing something orchestral. It’s salutary to think that I may have been to all of these bi-annual shows…and normally I’m thrilled by the vast array of machinery  - the steam engines (traction engines and a belching steam-driven lorry this year) the motorbikes and Frank Johnson’s astonishing collection of Hetchins curly-stay pushbikes.

This time, for whatever reason, and despite the prospect of a trip in a vintage double-decker bus, I was left a bit cold by it all. Suddenly it seemed like a whole heap of old stuff that probably didn’t work very well. Nostalgia and obsessive-compulsive, anally retentive maleness write large.

Then I saw the two E-Type Jaguars, and all bets were off. The Type One two-seater has to be the most beautiful motor vehicle that has ever existed.

Sea Pinks, Armeria Maritima, Sea-Thrift or just Thrift. I had no idea until I looked it up that this is the rather odd-looking plant on the tails side of a WW2 threepenny bit. They were in circulation when I was a wee boy, and I always thought the flowers looked like particularly ugly dandelions.

One of the delights of  Shetland coastal walking. And presumably the ideal presentation bouquet for anyone involved in the financial services industry.

My problem with newspapers, living where I do, has always been actually getting hold of the things. When I first arrived in Shetland, more than 30 years ago, it would be 2.30pm or so before the blatts made their way to a very limited number of shops. Before the demise of Highland Airways a few months ago, you could sometimes get the dailies at 10.30am, but that was totally dependent on weather. Fog, ridiculous winds, snow, ash, plagues of frogs – all could leave you paperless. Now, with a new contract in place, things have settled down to an irregular 11.00, but with no Guardian in Lerwick – copies aren’t being delivered to the aeroplane in time. It comes from England, you know.

Now, I travel – by bus, car or motorcycle – to Lerwick every weekday, but most of the preparation for the show, most of the day’s computer time, is from 7.00am at home. In our primitive rural redoubt, we have wi-fi. I can access  Guardian Online, the Telegraph, the much improved Herald, the sadly diminished Scotsman, and the fast and furious Daily Record, plus the amazingly competitive Shetland Times and Shetland News presences. Reform Scotland’s fantastic compilation pops into my in-box, as does the Scottish Review’s sarky musings. Caledonian Mercury, though basically an aggregation of (too short) blogs, is always worth a look. Facebook, Twitter and Google News, plus the excellent NewsNow, and of course the glorious BBC, and I’m sorted. Quirky tales for the show? If I’m still short, Ananova Quirky, Yahoo Oddly Enough. There are blogs, of course, galore to choose from, but frequently accessed from Twitterbook. And there’s 38 Minutes for abstruse and often unintentionally hilarious insight into the IT Crowd of Scotland.

This is done on a selection of (mostly old) laptops (Macs and PCs, distributed throughout the house. I don’t have an iPad, and probably – never say never – won’t be buying one. I’m leaning towards Google Android for phones and will wait for the killer Android tablet which is bound to arrive soon, from a reputable manufacturer, and with the stuff that Apple have failed to provide with their giant iPod Touch: USB sockets, Flash etc. This is not about hardware.

It’s simply about access. Admittedly, I’m an extreme case – an inveterate media user who lives at the very edge of traditional distribution networks – but I highlight the simply fact that content is everything,  and that old-fashioned methods of distributing and consuming that content are essentially redundant. Yes, there’s a pleasure to be had in buying a paper and sitting at the Peerie Shop Cafe in Lerwick consuming print and scones. But that’s an indulgence. And an inconvenient one, too, given the sheer stupid unwieldiness of broadsheet newsprint.   If anything displays the stupidity of newspaper management, it’s the insistence on maintaining a tradition of almost unusable  size of  page being linked to ‘quality’. How can we expect them to deal with digitisation if they can’t even understand the limits of  human hand-to-eye co-ordination (especially in a  windy place like Shetland)?

Oh, but we can’t make online pay, comes the whine. Yes you can. Scrap the printing presses, the delivery vans, the chopping down of forests, the whole Victorian infrastructure of newspaper production, and your costs will plummet. And will I pay for a subscription? For some things, yes. Would I pay some kind of central   licensing fee for accessing all of the above outlets?  Here at the Edge of the World, Ultima Thule, with the sea lapping at my door?  So I don’t have to  hassle my way into town to find the plane hasn’t got in? Yes.

Particularly if you give me a free Android tablet to subscribe on…or subsidised, like with Sky boxes and dishes. Come on Rupert, you know it make sense. I’ll even accept that The Times will be hard-wired as home page, until my son hacks it out of there.

At a pinch, I’ll even take a Murdoch iPad…