Ralph the Wonder Llama

So last Tuesday Donald and I went off to Glasgow to see the mighty AC/DC play Hampden Park. This was my third time seeing them, but the first for quite a few years – 1996, erm, rings a bell. If you’ll pardon me. In truth, not a lot changes. The set list differs somewhat each time round, but apart from the new stuff (which actually fared pretty well is must be said – especially Big Jack and the inevitable opener Rock ‘n Roll Train) the rest is really a lucky dip from one of the biggest, best, loudest and dumbest back catalogues in rock. But then this is one of the best live bands you’re ever likely to see (and who knows but that we may not see them again), and if AC/DC didn’t exist, someone would have to invent them, because without them, the world would be a poorer, less fun place. And lord knows some of us need all the fun we can get right now.

Anyway, we found ourselves a decent spot right in front of what may have been the lighting desk, strategically positioned for a decent view as well as the bar. Most of the band are, as always, pretty much static, but Angus gets about pretty well for an old geezer, and Brian did his sprint (well…) down the walkway to swing his thing at the start of Hell’s Bells, just like always (apology: the new phone’s camera is better than the old one, but still shit):

Highlights? Well, for me probably Hell Ain’t a Bad Place To Be and Shot Down in Flames, always favourites of mine. There was a nod to the band’s ancestral home town when Highway to Hell was prefaced with a snippet of The Bonny Banks of Loch Lomond, but that aside it was straight down the line, no nonsense rock ‘n roll. Which is what we came to see.

Oh yes, I would mention that support was from The Answer and The Reason, but the former wasn’t it, and the latter had none. The sound was poor for both, they were both beside themselves to be on the same stage as AC/DC, but in the end, they were both pants.

Last Saturday I went walking with a group of total strangers. It was ok – a good route and a fairly challenging hike – but ultimately felt very forced which, of course, it was. I had no real desire to be there with these people (nothing against them, they were fine) and was hyper-aware of the absence of one person in particular. This, especially so when walking up some of the very same tracks we’d walked down just a few months before. It’s like being haunted – or possibly the reverse of that – disturbed by the absence of someone rather than their presence. For we were on the Ben Lui hills, behind Tyndrum, though they were somewhat greener and greyer than was the case in November:

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Hi. So today I went to work having initially woken up deluding myself that it was already Saturday, when it was of course Friday. This may have had something to do with addlement caused by yesterday’s visit to the Scottish Beer Festival at the Assembly Rooms on George Street, for what must have been the fifth or sixth year running. Slightly more tasteful glasses this year, too. Which is nice. Anyway, it was a good thing it wasn’t Saturday as I’d have been in no fit state to go walking. As it was, I got on the train only to realise I’d lost my bracelet (you know, the one that looks like skulls made from teeth) and try as I might, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Which was annoying.

Then at lunchtime I went to Tiso to buy a map case for tomorrow, since I didn’t have one and it’s forecast to be showery. On the train on the way home I put said item next to my bag while I had a nap, being a bit tired as I was, just for a change (no, don’t say a word…). Just now I was making a list of stuff to take tomorrow, when I realised that I’d completely left said new purchase, unsullied by use, on the train two hours earlier. Pillock. Not normally the sort of thing I’d do. I rang First Trains lost property (who were closed) and left a message, in the very vain hope that it’ll turn up. It’ll probably just get binned. What a waste. And now I’ll have a soggy map, too.

Then I got a message on my phone to say it was all on for tomorrow morning, which is good. And next to my phone, on the shelf beside my bed, was my bracelet. You know, the one that looks like skulls made from teeth.

My head’s in bits, and life’s in pieces. What a shambles.

Remember these? Back in the day when the only thing that mattered was The Plan™ I used to allow myself a small pressie every month to keep myself motivated. Now, of course, it all feels rather hollow and pointless. Nonetheless, I am at my utmost need of motivation right now, and so, despite the fact that I could probably have lived without it, I’ve been shopping in an attempt to make myself feel better. This is what I bought:

It’s essentially for hillwalking, though a little larger than strictly necessary since I also want it to double as a short/hot trip pack where I need less stuff. That and the fact that this group of people I’m going walking with tomorrow week have a series of Munro-bashing efforts lined up through the summer, and lord knows I’m in need of (a) things to look forward to and (b) things to fill up weekends with, and so I can justify a new hill walking pack. Sort of. Anyway, it’s pretty good I think, though the mesh side pockets are, unfortunately, at the reverse angle of what would be ideal for use on the move without taking it off. However after experimentation I can retrieve and stow a half-litre Nalgene, so can take 1.5 and distribute as required. I don’t much like hydration systems, mostly on the grounds of mould/arsedness.

So has it helped? Do I feel better? Not really, but it hasn’t made me feel any worse. And that’s got to count for something. I’ll let you know how it fares next weekend.

Hi. I know I’ve been quiet lately. With good reason. I shan’t bore you, but suffice to say that since I got back from Denmark, life has been, well, pretty difficult I’m afraid. And a deal less good than it was before. I should like to say thank you in public to my good friends for all their support, without whom I don’t know what I’d have done. So thanks folks – you know who you are.

So anyway, one of the many consequences of recent events is that I now no longer have a regular hillwalking companion. Given that it’s something I love, part of what defines my sense of self as well as well as something I used to enjoy with a certain someone, and given also that as yet my navigational skills aren’t adequate to allow me safely to go out alone, I had to try to find some company in which to continue, hard as it is to swallow. To this end, I have just been speaking to a man, who may well have a beard, who knows, about joining a group of people on a walk on Sat 27th of this month. It’ll be a long day, given that it will, weather permitting, take in the four Munros of Beinn Dubhchraig (976m), Ben Oss (1029m), Ben Lui (1130m) and Beinn a’ Chleibh (916m) which are near where we were in Tyndrum earlier in the year. If the weather’s pants it’ll just be the first two. But the four is a 19km, nine-hour walk, and if that doesn’t shift some fucking cobwebs, then I don’t know what will. I’ve no idea what these people are like – it’s obviously not going to be the same – but I guess there’s only one way to find out.