Review of The Scold’s Bridle by MInette Walters

The Scold’s Bridle is one of Minette Walters’ earlier works being published in 1994. It managed to win the CWA’s top, gold dagger award in that year for the best crime novel of the year.

Knowing this, I made it top of my pile of Minette Walters’ books to read and got round to it after finishing “The Tenderness of Wolves” which in man senses was a crime novel.

As usual, the tale is set in sleepy Dorset, a popular locality for Ms Walters. I suppose its easier to set your stories in an area you know well and have lived in most of your life. Some may complaint about the repeating canvasses for the setting of her stories, but I think that at the end of the day in most her books the particular county in which they are set is irrelevant, it is the crime and the way the characters involved interact with each other that form the most important part of the story.

The book begins with the death of Mathilda Gillespie, a middle aged spinster who lives alone in Cedar House, a mansion in the village of Fontwell. At first, it looks like suicide. She is found in a bath of water with her wrists slashed. Unusually though she is wearing what is called a Scold’s Bridle, a medieval kind of mask, used to keep gossiping women quiet in the Middle Ages. This is decorated with flowers and she is also found to have a high level of barbiturates in her system.

In due course, the police begin investigations, talking to neighbours, local people etc. They soon find that Ms Gillespie was not well liked in the village and one or two people may have had a motive to kill her……
In turn, several, interesting, well drawn characters are woven into the fabric of the tale and we find out that Mathilda has been the victim of abuse and rape in her past. Added to that are the diaries she has kept for many years and you’ve got a plot filled to bursting.

The story moves along quite swiftly and before you know it, you’ve reached the end, breathless, not quite believing the denouement.
I thoroughly enjoyed the book and look forward to the next one in my pile in the bookcase!

Review of Frankie and Stankie by Barabara Stapido

Frankie and Stankie is a Whitbread nominated novel from 2004 which tells the story of Dinah growing in the context of a racially aggravated Durban in South Africa.

It was presented to me as a book to be read for the first meeting of a Book Group I joined at Langside Library. I had never heard of it and probably would never have read it if it hadn’t been given as a book group read.
I have to say that I enjoyed the book very much despite the fact the book seemed to be written with a female audience in mind.

Dinah and her sister, Lisa are born to German immigrants who move to South Africa during the second World War. They grow up in 40’s post war, South Africa just as all the Pass Laws and segregation laws are passed by a far right wing South African government in the 1950’s.

The book mixes history, humour and pathos in equal amounts and truly engages with the reader on many levels. Dinah is a very engaging character who tries to conform to the times and become what will be the perfect housewife only to turn against it and eventually meet and marry a political activist and move away from South Africa.

Quite clearly, the book is written across a semi-autobiographical landscape given the author’s background.
On the whoie, a very interesting choice for the Book Group. Next up is Tenderness of Wolves by Stefi Penney. Yikes! More chiclit!

Review of The Shape of Snakes by Minette Walters

The Shape of Snakes tells the sad story of Annie Butts a resident of Graham Road in Richmond.

Annie is a middle aged black woman who suffers from Tourette’s Syndrome and is shunned in her local community. The book tells the story of her death which occurred twenty years ago and is described in flashback by Mrs Ranelagh, a neighbour and friend who wished she could have done more at the time and is determined to proved that her death was murder and not an accident as decided by the local police and coroner.

After spending most of the last 20 years abroad with her husband, Sam and her two sons, Mrs Ranelagh returns to England to investigate Annie’s death and finally draw a line under the whole case which seems to have dominated her life for the last 20 years.

The major part of the book seems like an episode out of a Soap Opera. One of the families on Graham Road are the Slaters (no relation to the Slaters of Eastenders!) who all seem to be a bad lot. The father beats up the mother and kids, the mother doesn’t care, thieves and also beats up the kids and the kids thieve and rape the local populace. Then you have Sharon, the local prostitute who seems to have slept with all the men of the Street.

Not to mention the local bent, racist copper, PC Drury.

The plot of the book twists and turns as we learn more about the night of Annie’s death and as soon as you think who is the killer then you find out a little more and realise that you’re wrong.

In some ways, the plot is very manipulative but that’s the way of this kind of crime fiction. It does keep you guessing and turning the pages.

One small gripe.Why does Ms Walters insist on putting a taster first chapter of ther next book at the end of some of her novels? As a results, when you’re approaching the end of the book you think there’s still a fair chunk to go and there must be a further twist in the tale coming up.
So when the end does come it becomes a bit of an anticlimax!

G and his dad had had a walk up conic hill in the glorious sunshine, while his mum and I had fun shopping, drinking coffee and having a good girlie chat!

Snow by Orhan Pamuk

Having read “The BlacK Book” last year finding it very hard work it was with some trepidation that I approached Snow, which is Pamuk’s most recent work of fiction.

In the interim, Orhan Pamuk won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2006. This , however, tends to be awarded for a body of work or a political stance in contrast to the Booker Prizes of this world which are awarded annually for individual works of fiction.

Pamuk is very much a celebrity in his home country and recently courted controversy with the Turkish establishment with his open and frank views on the Armenian genocide. So much so that he was in the dock last year for “bringing the Turkish Nation into disrepute…” or something similar. Needless to say, the case was thrown out. I think its more to do with Turkey’s wishes to enter the EU.

Snow is a bit more straightforward than “The Black Book” and deals with the visit by the poet, Ka, to the remote eastern border city of Kars to write an article on the recent spate of suicides by young Isamic women living there.

The book is written mostly in the first person by a novelist, (possibly Pamuk himself), chronicling Ka and his experiences during his three day visit.

Snow plays an important symbolic part to the story which can be read in several ways. For me, it served to isolate the city and cut if off from the rest of Turkey and the world and let the author use Kars as a microcosm for the rest of the Turkey. In the book, Ka uses a picture a snowflake to represent different aspects of this life and his visit to Kars.

The major theme of the book is the conflict between religion and the state in Turkey. Turkey is unique in the Middle East in being a totally secular state based on the constitution drawn up by Kemal Ataturk early in the 20th Century. That it has survived as such is testament to the strength of the Turkish republic.
The conflict between state and religion is represented in the book by the wearing of headscarves by young women in college which is a banned act. The reason given for their suicides is the requirement for them to remove the headscarf while in school.

During the the three day visit to Kars, Ka witnesses and inadvertently takes part in a attempted coup by the leader of a theatre group called Sunay Zaim.

As you can imagine there is a lot going on in this book and at times it is quite difficult to follow all the issues that are being brought up.

Overall, Snow is a very insightful, thought provoking and challenging book that should be read by anybody who is trying to educate themselves on the Turkish State.

Fox Evil by Minette Walters

Fox Evil is not quite the most recent of Ms Walters’ books but the one before last.
In a lot of ways it starts off and to my mind, remains one of her more, minor works.

The one thing that slightly annoyed me about Fox Evil is the dated nature of the book due to the metaphor and use of foxes throughout to bring her imagery out. The problem is that the book was written before the ban on hunting with hounds came into force, so it is stuck in the past.

Having said that the story is an intriguing mystery based on a dying, aristocratic family, the Luckyer-Foxes who hail from a remote part of Dorset.

Nine months prior to the start of the book, Ailsa Luckyer-Fox, died in mysterious circumstances on her garden terrace. Although the eye of suspicion fell on her husband, the police were happy that he wasn’t directly involved in his wife’s demise.

Roll forward nine months and James has become a bit of a recluse and is the victim of a Chinese Whispers campaign alleging that he killed his wife and also that he committed incest with his daughter who bore an illegitimate child nearly thirty years ago.

This mystery plus the ‘adverse possession’ of a locally contested plot of land by a group of travellers are well plotted and executed by Ms Walters.

All her characters are well drawn and evoke the appropriate amounts of sympathy and fear from her readers.

Although its not her best, its still as good as many other crime hacks are putting out these days.

The Sculptress by Minette Walters

Next to read in my pile of books by the new queen of crime was The Sculptress. This was a CWA dagger winner from 1993 which was later serialised by the BBC with Linda Robson playing the lead role.

The basic premise of the book is that Olive Martin has served 5 years of a 25 year sentence after pleading guilty to the slaughter and chopping up of her mother and sister in their family home. Nothing at the start of the book suggests other than she was a deranged killer who was upset during a family row resulting in her actions.

The case is taken up by struggling writer, Roz, who with one hand twisted behind back by her publisher is asked to interview Olive in preparation for writing a book about the case.

Initially, she is very frightened of interviewing her because of her huge physical presence and reputation. This soon changes as she gains Olive’s confidence and begins to think that there may be a chance that she is innocent.

The story goes from there to following up leads by talking to locals, neighbours and an ex-policeman called Hal who is linked to the case through the restaurant he owns and Olive’s solicitor, Peter Crew, who seems to be a nasty piece of work.

In the middle of this, Roz., has her own personal problems trying to deal with her failed marriage, ex-husband and the tragic death of her daughter in a car accident the year before.

Everything is put together seamlessly in a style which as usual carries us forward at a great rate of knots. Excellent stuff.

Number 9 Dream by David Mitchell

Any of you who are a fan of David Mitchell’s previously Booker Prize nominated Cloud Atlas and Black Swan Green probably read this before those. However, if you didn’t don’t be put off by the Japanese setting for this book. It is just as absorbing and interesting as his more recent work.

In his biog at the start of his books, it lets us know that David Mitchell has spent some time in Japan and reading through the book it is quite clear that he is very knowledgeable about parts of Japan and its culture.

Ostensibly, the book is about a 20 year old young man’s search for his illegitimate father who supposedly is a well off businessman. Unfortunately, his father and father’s legitimate family don’t know want to know and at the end of the day when he meets his father when delivering a pizza, you see what a horrible person he is and its probably a good thing.

The book’s more about a coming of age and a falling in love for one person in a complex, multi-faceted society that is Japan. It has it all – video games, daydreams, yakuza violence, the musings of a goatwriter!

At times the daydreamy bits go a bit off kilter and are hard to follow. The point in the book where he goes into hiding from the Yakuza is confusing at first because you don’t know if its reality or fantasy.

Having said that this is a very well written, absorbing work of fiction. It does encourage me to read Ghostwritten now.

Review of Apocalypto

Apocalypto is a Mayan word for the end of the world which was foretold as happening when an eclipse of the sun occurs and a sequence of events involving jaguars and other things occurs.

This is the basis of Mel Gibson’s latest directorial effort.

Its an interesting film on more than one level.
For one its an interesting depiction of the life of the Mayan Indians had in the mid 15th Century.
On another it is a very portrayal of man’s inhumanity to man when things begin to go pear-shaped.

The film just about works and first and foremost should be seen as a very entertaining piece of cinema which grabs you and drags along with to the very end of its two and something hours.

The film tells the tale of Jaguar Paw and his wife and kid who live in a small village in the forests of Mexico. Life is good…. Until a raiding party kills and rapes all the women, puts the men in stocks and drive toward the Mayan capital. It is here that we release that all seems to be going wrong in Mayan society… crops are failing, disease is prevalent and the people are not happy. Human sacrifice is the order of the day. Jaguar Paw and his chums are to be offered to the Gods to appease them. The scenes of sacrifice are very gory so if you’re of a weak disposition look away at this point.

Fortunately, just as Jaguar Paw is about to be decapitated, a solar ecipse takes place and its seen as a sign that the Gods have been appeased and the captives are taken away to given the chance to escape. Unfortunately, this involves running through a hail of arrows, spears and slingshots. Our hero manages to get through but not without getting an arrow through him.

At this point, the film gets a bit silly as our hero manages to run back home while getting chased by a bunch of fitter, bigger warrior, a fully grown black panther, jumping off a major waterfall and taking another arrow for his troubles.

Despite this he manages to get back to the dried up waterhole where his wife is hiding with the son. Only thing is the rains have arrived and the hole is filling up quickly…..

I won’t go on. The film is very good and a lot praise should go to Gibson for putting together a very marketable film using unknown actors and putting it all in a Mayan dialect so the whole film is subtitled.

Restless by William Boyd

William Boyd is a well-established writer who has been writing decent contemporary fiction for over 20 years. Some of his stories have made it to the big screen eg A Good Man in Africa and Stars and Bars. In some cases he’s even written the screenplays for the big screen.

I’ve been a fan of William Boyd’s since reading the New Confessions bases on the Rousseau book of the same name and it was with some expectation that I sat down to read Restless his latest prize-winning effort. Although he was pipped at the post for overall book of the year by Stef Penney, Restless is a very deserving winner of the prize for best novel of the year.

Restless tells the story of Eva Delectorskaya a beautiful Russian émigré living in Paris at the start of World War II. She is recruited for the British Secret Service by the mysterious Lucas Romer. Under his patronage she is trained to become the perfect spy. In the background of this wartime tale we are brought up to date, well to the long, hot, summer of 1976, where Ruth Gilmartin is visiting her mother, Sal, in her cottage in the sleepy, Oxfordshire village of Middle Ashton. Little does she know that her mother has a mysterious past.

Sal has been writing her memoirs and decides to tell her daughter the truth of her past. Obviously, this is difficult for Ruth to take in but she does believe it and whilst reading about her mother’s adventures founds out something about herself.

The tales of Eva’s spy training and exploits during the war are very well written and believable. For the most part Eva’s job was to obfuscate the media with fictitious stories and make the enemies and allies of Britain move in certain ways. In the beginning, she works in Brussels, then is moved to New York. It is while working form New York, she works out that things aren’t all they seem with the organisation she works for and she makes a deliberate decision to get out when one of her missions goes badly wrong and one of her colleagues ‘kills himself’.

It isn’t until we get back up to date and finish reading her memoir we work out what has gone on in the last chapters of the book which have a somewhat melancholic feel to them.

Overall, this is an exciting, well paced story that is very well written very much from a female perspective.

The Redbreast by Jo Nesbo

The Redbreast is the latest book by Jo Nesbo to be translated into English from the Norwegian. Now you would think it was the sequel to The Devil’s Star rather than the prequel ie written before. Sadly as is so often the case with translated books that isn’t the case. Although reading The Devil’s Star before The Redbreast does tell you one or two things that you probably know already, it doesn’t really spoil the story and plot.

The Redbreast is partly set in contemporary Oslo and partly on the Eastern Front where a group of traitorous Norwegians fought on the side of the Nazis. The Redbreast of the title was the nickname of one of a particular group called Daniel Guderson/Uriah.

The book flashes back to follow Uriah’s story. After getting badly wounded he is sent to Austria to convalesce and then falls in love with his nurse and ends up eloping with her. There is more to this story, however, I don’t wish to spoil your enjoyment of this fine book.

Back to contemporary Norway and Harry Hole has been assigned to the POT section in the Police. This is the equivalent of the Special Branch and for Harry although it is a technical promotion, he is in the doghouse for shooting a Secret Service agent during the recent US presidential visit. Though he is not to blame he as usual was the fall guy.

While working in POT, Harry becomes involved in the search for a rare, unusual but particularly powerful weapon called a Marklin rifle. Harry travels to South Africa, Vienna and back in his attempt to trace who has bought this very expensive gun. Also caught up in the middle of this are a group of neo-nazi thugs who are involved in the killing of Harry’s partner, Ellen.

This book recently won an award in Norway for the best crime novel ever. Now, I don’t know how many crime novels a year are published there, but this is indeed a deserved accolade.

The book is long and complex but never flags over its 500 or so page course.
Suffice to say that it keeps you gripped from beginning to end

Ice Moon by Jan Costin Wagner

More Scandinavian Crime?

Yes and no. It is set in Finland but this time it is written by the German writer, Jan Costin Wagner and translated into English.

Doesn’t sound like your typical crime thriller and it isn’t.

In this story, from the outset, we know who the killer is a young museum guide called Vesa. In the course of the book he carries out 4 killings. Each by smothering. The book enters the killers mind and finds it a very strange place.

The policeman who is in charge of the hunt for the killer is Kimmo Joentaa. At the start of the book his young wife has just died of Hodgkin’s Disease so he comes across as a character very much on the edge. However, he seems to be able to get into the killer’s mind and use his grief to help him trace and identify who the killer is.
The book is very well plotted and in essence is a story about the nature of death rather than being specifically a crime novel.

If you’re looking for a white knuckle ride of a thriller then this isn’t the book for you. However, if it’s a chilly, philosophical look into death and its effect on people then this is for you.

Just back from a wild weekend in the Cairngorms! More to follow when we've recovered from quite an epic!

The Three Evangelists by Fred Vargas

Don’t be fooled by the title. This books has nothing to do with religion!

To explain, the three evangelists of the title are four guys who end up sharing a large, run down house in Paris. They are called Mathias, Lucien and Marc and his uncle/godfather, Vandoosler. Hence their nickname St Matthew, St Luke and St Mark as dubbed by Vandoosler.

The story concerns the disappearance and death of their next door neighbour, Sophia Simonidis, a retired opera singer of some renown.

Vandoosler is a retired police commisaire and becomes involved in the investigation through an old contact in the ‘flics’. The three evangelists’ help is enlisted in varying ways. The story is very literate and humorous as well as being a well plotted crime thriller. The characters of the ‘evangelists’ are interesting in that they are all historians who specialize in different historical periods.

Matthias’ interest is in prehistoric times, hence his predilection for wearing little or no clothes throughout the story!, Marc is into the Middle Ages, but seems more interested in the niece of the missing opera singer, and Lucien is a World War I specialist, who dubs the neighbours on either side the Western Front or the Eastern Front!

Although the books is by no means long, it does keep you engrossed and totally unsure of where it might be going and went a long way to making me a fan of Fred Vargas, who by the way is a female writer!

Review of Promise Me by Harlan Coben

Promise Me is the much anticipated return of the character of Myron Bolitar,the wise cractking Sports Agent created by Coben as an accidental private investigator who gets involved with his clients problems, helped alond the way by his psycho pal, Win and his wrestling secretary, Esperenza.
It’s been over 6 years since Coben has written a Bolitar mystery, he’s been busy writing stand alone novels which have managed to build up a very large fan base for him.
Most of these books have been very good and have been of the ‘twist in the tale’ type thriller which keeps most of us guessing until the end.
The new Bolitar mystery is more of the same, I suppose, although I thought it didn’t have quite enough meat to flesh the story out. Plus there wasn’t enough of psycho Win in it.
Interestingly, there is a crossover of a character from Coben’s previous book, the Innocent. The character of Loren Muse appears to investigate the disappearance of the daughter of one of Bolitar’s friends which provides the crux of the whole story. Bolitar becomes involved because he was apparently the last person to see her before she disappeared.
What follows is a neat tale of twists and turns, a small amount of violence and a whole lot of wisecracks from Bolitar.
On the whole, I would say that I wasn’t disappointed with Promise Me and that I would read any further instalments should they appear in time. 4/5.

Review of The Devil’s Star by Jo Nesbo

After several years of reading various Scandinavian crime writers viz Henning Mankell, Arnaldur Indridason, Karin Fossum and Ade Edwardsson with their own particular style and feel, it was nice to come across another new writer who could grab your attention and keep it glued to the written page for over 500 (admittedly small) pages without much pause for breath.

The book introduces the character of Harry Hole, a police detective from Oslo. To say he’s an anti-hero is a bit of an understatement! From the outset, this guy is a deadbeat. He seems to be on a permanent drinking binge from the start. He’s just lost a colleague at work on his previous case and relationship with Rake has just crumbled around him. Indeed, he’s about to get his notice to terminate employment just before he gets his teeth in the current case.

It’s the middle of a tropical summer in Oslo and there seems to be a ritual serial killer stalking the streets. A killer is striking at random and leaving behing bizarre clues – a blood red diamond, a pentagram and a missing finger!

Since half the police department is on holiday, there’s nothing for it but Hole must work the case with his arch nemesis Detective Tom Waaler, who he has suspected as being corrupt for some time now.
Hole manages to clean up his act and get to grips with the case which does give him the chance to expose Waaler and deal with this creep once and for all.

All in all the book is very well paced and contains enough twist and turns to keep you guessing until the end.
My only complaint is that although this is the first Harry Hole mystery to be translated into English, the second one to be published The Redbreast should be read before it, not after!

My challenge for this week was to post a piccy. This was Fergus (one of the few non work photos on my pc). It worked!!! -J

Tales from Deutchsland and Eire

Originally, our plan this year was take our bicycles over to Ireland and attempt to go from Malin Head in Inishmor to Mizen Head in Kerry. That is ,from the northern tip of Ireland to the southern tip.
Unfortunately, despite a good practice weekend cycling from Pitlochry to Aviemore, we found it hard to find the time to put in pedal miles to get us fit for the trip, so a compromise became necessary.
We decided to take advantage of Ryanair’s dirt cheap air fares and fly to Germany for a week with the inlaws and then fly on to Shannon to tour and hillwalk around the West Coast .
All in all 4 flights were involved costing us a total of £120. In addition, all these flights were going to help my beloved’s fear of flying which to be fair is fading fast.
On the day of departure we managed a morning at work before returning home to pick up our luggage and then get the train out to Prestwick.
At check-in, we managed to get in pre-boarding after explaining my SO’s problem with the usual scrum at departure gate on RyanAir flights when the plane is called for boarding, so for this flight and for every other one as it happened we were more or less first on the plane! Excellent!
After getting picked up at Hahn Airport by the in-laws it was a 2 hour drive to their new home in Klingenmunster. It was then straight to bed to sleep off the fatigues of travel.
The next week was then filled with a mixture of seeing the sights of the Pfalzerwald, swimming in the excellent German swimming facilities, eating and partaking of the in-laws hospitality, cycling to France and restocking our wine cellar .This was Interspersed with the the SO knitting me a gaudy pair of socks and a woolly hat. Meanwhile, I studied for my upcoming exam and read Moby Dick.
On the last day of the German leg, the in-laws took us out to the Rhine flood plain to partake of a new form of exercise called “Dresina”. ( I apologise for the spelling, hopefully my editor can correct it!). This involves cycling along a disused railway line in a specially designed vehicle which can seat four or up to 7 people. The route ended up 12 km away just before the River Rhine. The cycling was pleasant enough without being overexertive. The scenery was also pleasant but generally a bit flat.
When we got to the other end the village we ended up in was a wee bit dead without anywhere to sit and have a drink or much to see. In addition, the Rhine was a bit far to walk to.
By the time everyone that was cycling had arrived, we put our “Dresina” back on the line and cycled back to the starting point. This time we stopped off halfway along for a cup of coffee and a piece of cake which was very pleasant.
The trip was German was a pleasant, relaxing break. We were very grateful for the generous hospitality shown by the SO’s parents the whole time of our stay.
Fortunately, our flight to Stansted was from Baden airport, so it was only a short drive from Klingenmunster, compared to the trip from Hahn. What a breath of fresh air the airport was. It was so quiet compared to any of the UK ones.
It was unfortunate, that we had to spend most of the day in Stansted before flying to Shannon ,though this meant there was no chance we could miss our connection as a result of the extra security checks.
After a long afternoon, we flew into Shannon. At this point two mishaps slightly spoilt our day.
Just after we landed, we spent 10 minutes looking through the plane’s overhead lockers for the SO’s fleece top without success. This was sad. It was one of her favourites and had been left behind in Stansted. Poor fleece!
At the same time as the search was going on, I managed to leave my book on the seat beside me and forgot to pick it up. This was a bummer because I had just got into it and had nothing else to read! When we had gone through security, I tried to retrieve it without success. Never mind, maybe I could get it when we returned to fly home.
After picking up our car, we drove up to Doolin Head via Ennis for some chips, and stayed in a hostel sharing a dorm with 3 girls from Eastern Germany.
Woke up to pouring rain and decided to head up the coast past the Burren to Galway City.
Originally, we had planned to go the Aran Islands but since the weather was poor and not forecast to improve for a day or 2 we decided this was the best option. I would be able to find a book to read and hopefully the SO would find the wool she needed to knit my promised Aran sweater.
After a pleasant wander, I managed to find a book in a famouse second hand book shop but no appropriate wool was found.
After lunch, the weather didn’t improve so we headed back down the coast to Lahinch via a couple of Celtic crosses and waterfalls. The Cliffs of Moher were atmospheric but disappointing due to the weather and the restrictions on access placed by the authorities and local landowners.
We found ourselves a bed for the night in Lahinch and had a wander along the seafront before dinner. We were both amazed to see that they were people out surfing in the pre-sunset half-light. The surf looked pretty mental. So much so that we had to go for a drink to a bar called O’Looney’s!
After a disturbed sleep (we had a shared dorm again) we woke to another wet day. There was a hurricane forecast for the next 48 hours!
We decided to head down towards the Dingle peninsula via Tralee. The driving was pleasant enough but the rain didn’t really let up all day.
We arrived at Dingle in the late afternoon and managed to get a room at a hostel just out of
town for a reasonable rate of 51 euros per night. It was a big converted manor house which had seen better days but was comfortable enough.
A wander down to the town of Dingle was aided by a clearing of the weather and it proved to be a charming, picturesque fishing village with literally dozens of pubs!
Amazingly the first shop we popped into was a small woollen mill shop and it sold the appropriate wool for the SO to knit the promised sweater. She seemed very happy with the quality and cost of it, anyway.
Afterwards, we wandered to yet another Murphy’s Bar for a pleasant dinner and pint of Guinness.
At this juncture I would like to point out to the discerning budget traveller that Ireland is nowhere nearly as expensive as it’s made out to be. On the whole during our visit, prices of accommodation, eating out, petrol etc were all on a par with those encountered in the UK. Perhaps Dublin and Cork are very expensive, elsewhere doesn’t seem so bad.
The next day turned out fine so we went up to O’Connor’s Pass and took some pictures of but decided not to go up Brandon Mountain. Then we drove round the point beyond Dingle to visit a famous beach which featured in Ryan’s Daughter. Ireland seems to be very big on selling certain places which featured in films over the years eg The Quiet Man and The Field.
It seems that even 50 years on, they still get people visiting places and using it as a reference point!
After spending a second night in Dingle we moved on towards Killarney. Unfortunately, the weather wasn’t too good so an ascent of Carrantuohill wasn’t on. Instead we drove round it, going over the Gap of Dunloe. The whole area reminded me of Scotland. Very picturesque and rugged.
Got to Killarney and booked into the International Hostel just outside. Again we managed to get a room on our own and after a pleasant traditional Irish meal in Killarney had a quiet night. Killarney itself was a nice place. A little “Oirish” perhaps and busy but otherwise pleasant enough.
The next day was our last full day so after a late breakfast we slowly wandered back towards Shannon Airport. The drive up was nice enough up by the Shannon estuary. The only bad point was a diversion at a tourist trap called Bunratty. This place was tourist hell but we managed to get a couple of gifts for friends and I managed to get a T-shirt before we made good our escape.
We planned to stay at a hostel at a small place called Threemilebridge but unfortunately found that it was busy. So we backtracked a little and found a Travel Inn on the edge of Limerick.
This was our last night and since it was the day before our official anniversary we decided that it would be nice to celebrate it on the last day of our holiday.
Unfortunately, the Travel Inn didn’t have a restaurant so we decided to go a mile up the road where there was a SAS Radisson which advertised a reasonably priced early bird menu.
We were lucky to get a table and enjoyed a great 3 course meal with excellent service considering the number of covers that they were doing that night. It was a great end to a most enjoyable holiday.
The next morning we returned to Shannon Airport and managed to get a damaged wheel past the Car Rental Inspector without any extra charges and joined the check-in queue. After the usual delay due to the late incoming flight we got back to Prestwick just in time for the train back to Glasgow and were soon home.

A marathon the easy(er) way

Having been a part time runner for quite a while now, I approached the Spring season of 10K/Half marathons with some anticipation this year.

For once I was feeling fit thanks partly to a new exercise regime instigated by my SO and also a lower alcohol consumption rate than has been the norm in recent years.

Now, I’ve never had the ambition to do a marathon as I think this would be masochistic and would finally do for my knees and end my running career forever. However, what about running a marathon over four weeks (nearly a marathon)?

The Polaroid Series of races had been mentioned to me a few years ago by J when one of her work colleagues had mentioned it to her. This year I found that it was the 20th Anniversary and thought that it might be nice to do one or two of the races. After investigating the website I decided to entire all four 10K races and take things as they came plus it was cheaper that way (and I got the race t-shirt)!

First up was Helensburgh on the 25th May at 7.30pm. Although it was a wee bit further out of town I had the advantage of an afternoon off work to relax and get an early enough train through to Helensburgh. Arriving in town late afternoon I sauntered up to Queen Street Station only to find that the train I wanted to catch at 6.10pm was cancelled and that the only other one I could catch was at 6.40pm, which would arrive at my destination at 7.27pm. Now, even if this arrived on time there was surely no way that I could reach the starting line before the starter’s gun went off! After a quick phone round I managed to get hold of the mobile phone no of one of the race organizers and gave him a call to try and hold the race for a few minutes.

When the train pulled into the station another couple of runner’s got off and started sprinting with me towards the school where the race was to start. Amazingly, the race hadn’t started. Unfortunately, I was dying for the loo and nipped off for a pee. Of course, when I got back the race had started and I could see the back markers just passing through the start line. Quickly, I managed to get a starter to take my bag and I took off in hot pursuit.

The race passed off uneventfully after that. I managed to miss the worst of the congestion at the start because of my late arrival, so for the most part it was an enjoyable run. The weather was perfect and the views out into the Firth of Clyde were fantastic. Although the clock at the end showed 50 minutes +, I knew I’d run the course in about 47-48 minutes which was very pleasing given the stress I had at the start of the race.

Second race was in Clydebank. This was easier to get to due a more frequent train service here. I arrived in good time at the Leisure Centre which was the registration point.
This time the weather was still sunny but a little cooler and breezier. The race started off in a service lane at the back of the Shopping Centre. About 200m after the start there was an absolutely crazy route taken through a very constricting path and the whole race seemed to grind to a halt for a few seconds. This was stupid. Fortunately, after that the race opened up even though it did follow the canal for a while. There was a couple of laps of the course and then a finish back at the starting point. Amazingly, I had done a new personal best time of 45.53 which wasn’t bad for an old fogey like me.

Third race was in Dumbarton. Again the weather was set fair for this race, but perhaps a little hot for me. Hot weather doesn’t do me any favours when running as I found to my cost in the Great Scottish Run last year. This time I drove over to Dumbarton and found a reasonable spot behind the start line. Again after the start the race was beset with congestion problem at several points. Particulary where there were bollards across the path! No-one was posted at these point to warn us, very dangerous I thought. The route mostly followed the route of the Glasgow-Loch Lomond cycle route towards Old Kilpatrick and back. I found this race much more difficult due to the heat and was happy to finish it in a slower time of 47.21. At least, there was a bit longer until the last race in Vale of Leven.
Sunday 18th June dawned a dreich, damp day with no forecast to give cause for cheer. Never mind, at least I wouldn’t melt like last week! The race was down to start near to the Loch Lomond Shores visitor centre for the National Park so at least parking wouldn’t be a problem this week.

I arrived in plenty of time and went for a warm-up to scout out the start for later. Fortunately, a map of the course had been posted so it was quite easy to find where the race was due to finish although the description of the start was a bit vague. Oh well, I thought, just follow everyone else I suppose!

I went back to my car and waited out of the rain until 10 minutes before start time and wandered over. I joined a large bunch of people milling around on the Pier Road where the start was supposed to be but found little evidence of an actual line as such. A couple of minutes later a megaphone asked everyone to move back as they had passed the start line, not that anyone could see it! For 5 minutes we were moved back and forward until suddenly the race was started.

Two minutes into the race, disaster strikes, my lace became undone! I had to find a spot to tie it up while precious seconds passed. I quickly got back into my running though and not 1K after the start we climbed up the hill to Balloch Castle Park. Fortunately, this was the only hill climb of the day. I had been warned about the undulating nature of the course but on the whole found it to be flat enough. No different to the various hills you have to deal with around Kings Park!
Although every single kilometre was marked out it was difficult to keep an eye on my time because of the rain and also the fact that I hadn’t taken my accurate stopwatch. So it came as something of a surprise when I came round the corner of the building at the finish to find the clock just ticking over at 47 minutes. I put on a good sprint and managed to cross the line on my watch at 46 minutes and a few seconds. Despite the conditions I had managed to achieve my second best time ever. Excellent. Roll on the Great Scottish Run

Pitlochry to Aviemore via 7 (Not the A9 for a change!)

As part of our preparation for a cycling holiday in Ireland this September, the SO and myself decided to take the bikes up to Pitlochry and cycle up the National Cycling Network to Aviemore and back over a weekend. Well, that was the plan at least, fate and aching buttocks had a part to play!

Fortunately, an anti-cyclone had decided to anchor itself over the whole of the UK so the weather was set fair when we started off on Saturday morning. Must admit, I thought that my bike wasn’t as heavily laden as J’s but she was happy to go ahead with the distribution we had.

First climb of the day was over the Pass of Killiecrankie, Although the road is marked at 14% for a short stretch it didn’t seem that bad. From there until Dalnacardoch, the route followed the old A9, which was mostly traffic free and in reasonable nick. The climbing was steady and none too steep going towards the Drumochter summit.

After Dalnacardoch, we joined the recently built off road cycle path which connects both sides of Drumochter but excludes road traffic. This was gravelly and had the occasional barrier, where landowners have decided that cattle grids don’t actually work, so they put barriers across. Don’t know why this has happened.

The ride down from the summit to Dalwhinnie is a joy as you follow the downward slope coming down from the Drumochter summit. We lunched at Dalwhinnie, before continuing past the distillery onto Crudenbeg. Sadly, any visits to the distillery were off the agenda.

As the day wore on the sun seemed to get brighter and warmer as we got pinker, but it didn’t stop our progress to Aviemore, although J seemed to slow down after Kincraig.

We finally arrived at the Rothiemurchus site at about 5.00pm where we quickly put up the tent and had a much needed shower prior to going down to Aviemore for our well earned dinner.
We had a great meal in the Old Bridge Inn by the River Spey. Best thing about it was that there was not TV showing the England-Paraguay match! Additionally, it was in contrast to the shoddy meal we had in Pitlochry the night before.

Next morning, we rose refreshed and raring to go, only to find that there was a problem with J’s bike which seemed to be the cause of her slowing down the night before, her front brake was binding. There was no obvious reason, so after much discussion, J decided to get the train back to Pitlochry and I undertook to continue by pedal as far as I felt going.

Going onwards, my knees were getting painful and my bum’s complaints were getting louder and louder such that by the time I got back to Dalwhinnie, I decided to get the midafternoon train back to Pitlochry. Not the cheapest journey. Two stops cost me nigh on ten quid!

Got back to the car to find the cycle racks on the roof and J waiting for with a big smile. While waiting for the train a fellow cyclist had spotted the problem with her brake as being a missing spring which he was able to replace. Unfortunately, she was unable to change her travel plans and get off the train at Kingussie, so she had to forego any further cycling.

All in all, a good experience and a very good introduction to long distance cycling with a load.
Next time I’ll try and take some pictures.