Uncategorized

Happy Easter!Time to light the Rayburn and retreat indoors, methinks…

Back home on a rather bumpy flight last night, with the weather deteriorating into a brutal cacophony of howling gusts by about 4.00am. Also snow, hail and sleet, now with the occasional outburst of sunshine. This is the view from behind The Radiocroft, looking up to Shetland’s highest point, Ronas Hill. So far, all the…

Why, I asked the taxi driver, was there always a wee flock of black cabs parked up behind the Pond Hotel, next to Gartnavel Hospital in Glasgow? “Those are the Blood Taxis” he said. Seems the blood bank at Gartnavel provides emergency blood supplies for much of southern Scotland, and the favoured mode of transport…

This is the bridge from Finnieston (Minerva Street) over the Clydeside Expressway and the railway to the SECC and thence over the river to the BBC. The red bit is supposed to be for walkers, the green bit for bikes. Pedestrians ALWAYS ignore the painted bicycles and appear shocked that they have to get out…

Looking down at the River Clyde from the third floor of the BBC building at Pacific Quay is a vertigenous business. Looking over the river towards the university (my alma mater: that’s it with the rocket-like gothic spire) is fairly disturbing, in that such a view would have been impossible back in 1973, when I…

Arrived in Glasgow last night and walked from Queen Street to the West End. For some reason I’ve always found walking about cities more interesting than perambulating in the countryside…and cycling even more so. Well, perhaps ‘interesting’ is the wrong word. ‘Frightening’ might be better. Who needs computer games or roller coasters when you can…

Both Susan and myself have been really moved by the tremendous outpouring of support and reassurance over the ‘phone, by email and on this blog. Thanks a million. It’s been a beautiful day here in Shetland – mild, sunny and for the first time in months Susan had a Saturday off. So it was great…

Hell’s teeth. Not, alas, the end of the story after all. When I posted yesterday’s blog I had no idea that some benighted individual had sent letters and emails to The Sun newsdesk, making even more salacious and bizarre allegations about my private life. Or that a reporter and photographer were already on their way…

The thing about living in a small (22,000 people) island community is that your life is not your own. You are on display, visible – this is a bare, stark landscape in which every household and most cars come equipped with binoculars. And your whole life is likely to be the subject of scrutiny and…