Ralph the Wonder Llama

Today must have been the annual torchlight procession through town to Calton Hill, where it culminates in a spot of boat-burning, as previously imparted in these very pages. The clue came when on my way home from the gym, after another long day at my non-job which I’ve promised not to mention (I mentioned it once there, but I think I got away with it…), I spotted a child waving the flaming remnants of a wax torch in the air by the bus stop. I blame the parents, at least one of whom was standing nearby.

Anyway, as some of you are doubtless aware, the views from the rear windows of my flat are often very fine of an evening. This is not so much the case in the winter when it’s just various shades of dark. Tonight, however, with the bonfire on Calton Hill going uproariously well, I had fireworks:

They weren’t quite as shaky as that in real life, but I was in a hurry, and couldn’t be bothered to open the window for more properer braceage. Anyway, it looks sort of arty. Or something. Look, it’s cold out there, ok? No pleasing some people…

So this is ralphmas – and what have you done? Eh? Eh? Well, what I’ve done (this morning) is polish, hoover, wrap a vast multitude of present, and put a rather nice bottle of champagne in the fridge. Oh yes, hard at it I have been. Last night I even rearranged my fireplace to enable easier incense burning and more candle power:

This year there is still baa, still no humbug, but also no christmas tree, of artificial glowing variety or otherwise. I gave it away earlier in the year as I thought I wasn’t going to need it again. Hubris eh? Ain’t it lovely? Such has been the economic dent put in The Plan™ that the timings have gone, as soon will the deer, somewhat to pot. Never mind. I have given the yucca plants a trim and the presents look very nice around it. I haven’t even got any tinsel left as I gave all that away with the tree, but never mind.

So here I am, 12:45, with nothing left to do but ponder methods of roasting venison and wait for Sue to arrive, who is driving over from Glasgow after having visited her friend Susie for Xmas Eve. One of the nice things about living in Scotland is that, because the weather is generally so, erm, interesting, is that it’s generally impossible to tell when the sun (if I remember properly what it looks like) is over the yardarm. This is A Good Thing, because it means that no-one can say that it isn’t yet time for a G&T. So, since it’s Christmas and all, I sit here next to a rather good Bombay Sapphire and Schweppes. Yum. Well, what’s a llama to do?

Happy Christmas everyone – hope you’re having a fine time wherever you are.

Last weekend we decided to get a bit of a walk in, which seemed like a good antidote to the drab and dark first week of work I’d just endured (see previous post). I trained and bussed it down to Galashiels after work and hunted down an Indian take away for our supper at the Wynd. On Saturday we were greeted with bright, clear, sunny and cold weather, perfect for a bracing stroll across the Southern Uplands. We took a circular route from a place called Yarrow, which has the coldest, iciest car park I’ve seen in many a long year. I was surprised it hadn’t been rented out to Robin Cousins for the day. Or something. Anyway, it was a lovely walk, and we only got lost, a bit, once towards the end when it got dark and we couldn’t see any blahdy tings. It was fairly slow going at times due to the snow and ice, and the apparent construction of many walls across the alleged mile-and-a-half descent route.

Any road up, here’s a collage of pics (from my now fitfully-performing camera):

These and the rest are on flickr.

On 1 December I started my new job after nearly three years at HBoS and a month of unemployment. Some of you will have already heard me eulogise over this fabulous new opportunity that has fallen fortunately into my lap, as if Lakshmi herself had anointed me and all my Diwalis had come at once…stop me if I’m overdoing this, won’t you?

Actually, two weeks in I can say with some confidence that this is the second worst IT job I’ve ever had (the worst being my short-lived tenure with a firm in Clerkenwell at the height of dot-com bubble lunacy, when it was apparently compulsory to have entirely superfluous punctuation in your company’s name, venture capital investment was proportional to staffing levels and, as a consequence, such a great many spectacular dullards were given jobs in IT that one had to question whether or not the world had, in fact, finally gone round the twist). The people are fine for the most part (there’s always one, right?), the place itself is alright. But the job - oh man. I knew before I signed up for it that it was a bit of a gamble, since it wasn’t entirely clear what the role really involved, but it’s reminded me why I’m not a betting man. The job is tedious, demanding little more than the ability to see and push buttons. Any idiot could do it. Trouble is, the people employing me don’t really know what they don’t know, if you’ll forgive the Rumsfeldian turn of phrase, and I think they see me as some sort of technological security blanket. I am reassurance personified, which I, and I’m sure many of you, will find profoundly hilarious. Essentially I’m installing and configuring Windows-based software for a firm that has an almost exclusively Oracle/Java architecture. They even use Lotus Notes, ffs. Notes. It’s like the fucking Stone Age. *shudder* The only reason they need someone like me is that they have almost zero experience – in some respects to quite a scary extent – and that’s what I have, as well, as sufficient bloody-mindedness to spot subtle aspects of stupidity. But really, it’s mind-deadeningly dull and awful.

Added into the bargain, I get to commute for two hours a day to Glasgow and back for the pleasure of it all. The days start early and are long, beginning and ending in cold, damp darkness, like some fuel-poor version of Hell. I’d forgotten what commuting felt like. Sue called it “the tunnel”, after I described it as a week-long continuum rather than the week having distinct days, which seems pretty apt. It’s also making me tired and, as a result, grouchy, which is A Bad Thing all round. Needless to say, I shall be looking around in mid-January.

Still, at least I’m working – it could be worse. After a month of looking I found no development contracts in Edinburgh and so had to take what I could get. Also, I guess I was comparatively fortunate for a long time at HBoS and it was never going to be quite that easy, was it? If this is a test, ok, I get it, alright? Thanks for making the point. Still, if this is what it’s going to take, so be it. Bloody-mindedness has its advantages sometimes. Ah well, only seven work days till Christmas…

It’s the end of November and you have a week off before starting your wonderful new job (more of which anon) – where do you go for a break? Sunny Portugal, or hillwalking in Scotland? Exactly. So we headed off to Tyndrum for a few days’ stay at a trekking hostel on the West Highland Way. Given that it was winter and much of our stay was in midweek, we were pretty fortunate in having the place largely to ourselves for a lot of the time. The main exception to this was over the weekend when the place was taken over by a rather selfish bunch of folk from Venture Scotland, who were being all corporate and having an away weekend for their staff and volunteers. Adhering to the true spirit of such things, they spent a lot of time making people feel good about what they were doing shortly before telling them about the budget cuts that would render some of them redundant. We were made to feel like intruders on several occasions: being asked to move from our dinner table so that they could rearrange the dining room to suit themselves; being kept awake till the early hours by their inane drunken jabbering; being prevented from having breakfast properly the next day; and being excluded from the entire building for the whole day while they did their corporate thing, which overran – of course – by an hour and a half. I’m sure they do worthy work, but they certainly presented their charity in a bad light. I guess you find self-important uptight tossers everywhere, eh?

Anyway, obviously the weather was going to be a mixed bag at best, and so it proved. The first full day was so hideous that we had no option but to go on a sightseeing drive up to Glencoe and back down the coast. Still, we did come face to face with some interesting locals:

The next day we were both a bit tired but decided to get some sort of walk in, so we headed off through the woods and along the track that leads to the foot of Ben Lui, one of a chain of four munros just beside the hostel. They say on a good day one can bag all four in one day, but not when the days are as short as they were then, and not when they’re covered in snow. Neither of us have any crampon/ice axe experience, and to start then would have been to take a short cut (ahem) to A&E. Still, it was a very pretty walk, and the clear light and the ice provided many exciting photo opportunities:

On the way back, the sun set behind the mountain in a very Deep Purple album cover sort of way:

The next day we were determined to climb a Munro if the weather allowed. Luckily the day started fair enough so we headed for our target, Beinn An Dothaidh. This is one of a pair, with Beinn Dorain, and on a normal day one can do both in the same walk. However, once above the lower slopes the going became icy and then, from the saddle upwards, the snow was up to knee-high in places. This wouldn’t have been a problem in itself, but the weather started to close in as we reached the top, and having spoken to a couple of other walkers more experienced than ourselves, we decided against risking running out of light and saved Beinn Dorain for another day. Still, it was good to reach the summit where it was very cold and windy. Sue was especially (and rightly) pleased, this being her first ever Munro – what a way to start – well done you:

Unfortunately this was also the day my camera started to play up. I don’t know whether the sensor has tired of my habit of taking spot-exposures on bright subjects, or the cold got to it, or just general tiredness, but it decided it would rather freeze on me and refuse to shut down than take actual pictures. It’s still pretty flaky now, so I may have to treat myself to a new one. Dammit. Just when I’d figured the thing out

Anyway, this is why there are no pics of the next day’s assault on Ben Challum. We thought we were in with a good shout on this one as well, as the weather started pretty well. However, the further up we got, the windier it became and we were soon in full waterproofs in addition to our many layers of technical clothing. We stuck at it though, and made good progress. Unfortunately when only 100m vertical (and probably about 300m lateral) from the south top (the actual summit is a few hundred metres further on) it was so windy we could barely stand, and the cloud was closing in apace. To paraphrase the great Douglas Adams, just as discretion is the better part of valour, and cowardice is the better part of discretion, we bravely turned around and went down again. With the wind and rain, snow and ice, it actually got harder for a while before we got low enough to get under the worst of it, and personally I was quite pleased we’d stopped when we did. Maybe we’d have been ok, but a lack of experience meant we didn’t truly know what was safe, so instinct took over. Still, it was a good walk, and a good effort. In summer it would be easy.

That’s the most of it – apologies for being so slack in getting up to date (again – I seem to say this a lot lately, but see next entry for perfectly valid explanation excuse). More pics on flickr.