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A pretty lumpy crossing from Shetland to Orkney last night, but we arrived at 10.45pm, 15 minutes early. That gave the satnav plenty of time to thread me through Kirkwall and to the Murray Arms at St Margaret’s Hope before it shut. Up early to catch the 8.00am Pentland Ferries ‘short sea crossing’ to Gill’s…

The camper van has failed its MOT on three things: unaligned headlights, emissions (it’s not got a catalyser) and worn ball joints. Minor, really, but enough to scupper my planned expedition south and provoke a flurry of ferry alterations and hotel bookings. So tomorrow it’s the Citroen that’ll trundle off the Hrosseyland and onto Orcadian…

There’s a story over at the Sunday Herald, jumping the gun on figures due out tomorrow regarding drinking (of alcohol) in Scotland. I find myself in the peculiar position of being a semi-pro drinker (in that I get paid for writing about whisky) who is beginning to realise that enough is well and truly enough,…

The Hillswick skipsaga continues. Someone has removed the keyboards, the crash helmet and the computers (if they were ever there; I may have been imagining them) and left the English flag flying proudly over the rubbish. What is the message? Meanwhile, I have been making my own contribution, courtesy of the Radiocroft’s bathroom renovation. I…

  I’ve just checked, and as of this afternoon, it’s all still there: three keyboards, a crash helmet, two desktop computers (you can just see the towers) and an English flag (or Cross of St George if you prefer), complete with pole. This is how I found the skip last night, just along from the…

It’s not for everyone, but Neal Stephenson’s three-volume (nine in some countries) 3000-odd page epic (Quicksilver, The Confusion, The System of the World) is a truly titanic achievement. I’ve just finished reading it for the second time, on this occasion in one great continuous and hugely indulgent splurge. I’m itching to re-read the prequel/sequel Cryptonomicon,…

James (17 this month), whose infatuation with carbon-fibre-forked racing bicycles has lapsed of late, decided yesterday to take the Revolution Continental out for a spin. Foolishly, I agreed to accompany him on the trusty Orbit for the 15-mile thrash up to the Eshaness lighthouse and back. The weather was fantastic (again; in the words of…

All I’ll say is that the punchline involves a Harley Davidson…cheers to a senior traffic policeman for sending me this.

In 1973 I bought, simply as a result of seeing a poster of the cover, Leo Kottke’s live album My Feet Are Smiling. This led to hours, days, weeks, years of messing around with open tunings, bottlenecks (including a mild injury sustained while trying to cut the neck off a wine bottle). And the purchase,…