Walking one walk or another

 

WALKING THE WALK

Back in June I wrote about my return to doing some lengthy walks, hoping that the Edinburgh Kiltwalk would survive the lockdown restrictions.  Alas, for obvious reasons, that is not to be, and instead we fundraisers are being encouraged to take part in a virtual Kiltwalk, on the same weekend when the real thing would have been taking place.  As part of that encouragement Kiltwalk has pledged to add 50% to whatever donations participants manage to collect, so it's definitely worth the effort.

As I have for the past two years I'll be walking to raise funds for Advocard, the organisation I work for as a volunteer advocacy worker.  If you're not sure what advocacy is and what we do I wrote about it in this post two years ago before my first Kiltwalk.  

Volunteering usually means face to face contact with our service users, so that aspect of the service has been in abeyance since March (our professional staff have still provided advocacy where possible, but it's been a tough gig at times).  But the volunteer side of thing started up again a few weeks ago, although for now we're restricted to sitting in an office making phone calls.  Lockdown has been a bad time for a lot of people, but for those with poor mental health, especially if they live alone, it's often been very difficult.  Not having access to services like ours is one of the many problems they've faced, so there's a pent up demand for what we provide.

I said 'walking' earlier, because that's what I set out to do a few months ago, and it would be daft to waste all the miles I've put in over recent weeks.  The Kiltwalk people said we could do anything we liked to raise funds.  Their suggestions mostly included activities so energetic they make my ageing body quiver at the thought, and in one case, trampolining, inadvisable to the inhabitant of a fifth floor flat.  So I'll stick to what I know, keep it simple, and concentrate on putting one boot in front of another.  

Rather than the usual Kiltwalk route I will be taking a more scenic, and a few places mildly more challenging, option.  The Water of Leith Walkway runs from Balerno in the southwest of the city to the Victoria swing bridge in Leith, almost on the Forth.  Over twelve and a half miles it winds across Edinburgh by way of leafy paths, public parks, the occasional busy road, an inner city village, a wonderfully muraled old railway tunnel, a croquet club and the country's largest stadium.  (With apologies for the made up word!)  You can find out more about it here.

As I explained in an earlier post, when the year began I'd been hoping to cover the Kiltwalk route in under three hours thirty minutes.  Having probably had a mild dose of covid-19 I now find myself getting out of breath more quickly than I used to, and I think that target would have been unrealistic.  But I will still use it, as a challenge to beat over this shorter but more inclined route.  Kilted of course.  

If you'd consider being generous enough to donate then please click here.  And please share the page for others to see.  I've been very late getting this out to the world, so already there's only three weeks before the day.

Final plea - if you have any sway with the weather gods please ask them to be considerate over Edinburgh that weekend.  Ploughing on through glutinous mud is not the challenge I'm hoping for! 

Lockdown had some plus points

TEN THINGS I'LL MISS ABOUT LOCKDOWN

The covid-19 pandemic has turned 2020 into a very strange year for most of us.  A tough time for many with the deaths, illness, loneliness, mental health issues, money shortages, redundancies, postponed operations and cancelled events.  The list of ways in which people have been affected goes on and on.  And it's far from over yet, today's news from Aberdeen showing how easy it is for progress in suppressing the virus to be reversed if we don't all adhere to the ScotGov guidelines.  

But for most of us lockdown is not what it was in April and May and into June.  Streets and shops are far busier, we can meet people, travel, go out to eat and drink, there is a greater sense, a fragile sense, of something nearer to 'normal'.  The number of cases, and deaths, in this country (although not so much south of the border) has been declining steadily and the risks don't feel as great.  But let's not be overly optimistic at the moment, with colder weather to come and the risk of a second wave meaning that lockdown may not be entirely in our past.  We all hope not.  

But, apart from (possibly) having the virus, and maybe some resulting longer term issues we're among the fortunate ones.  A comfy home, a steady income, living with someone you love, and the cat, are (with reliable broadband!) the ingredients for contentment.  For much of the time I can honestly say I enjoyed lockdown, and there aspects of it I already miss, or know I will in future.  So here's my list of the things I found brightened up the lockdown weeks.

1.  The daily updates from the Black Isle Correspondent 

Folk musician and broadcaster Anna Massie found herself locked down back home with her parents in Fortrose and decided to make a wee daily video about lockdown life.  It quickly became an essential element of the Crawfords' routine.  Who knew bin-washing and scone-making could be so entertaining?  She's still putting out the odd one every few days, but the what'll-she-do'next thrill isn't what it was.  You can still see the full hundred plus wee videos on her YouTube channel.

2.  Clean air

Wasn't it blissful?  Peace, quiet, and a huge reduction in air pollution.  You could go into the city centre and hear the birds singing.  Wildlife started popping up in unexpected places.  Humans were being stressed out, but the planet got a rest.  Is anyone in power learning the lessons?

3.  Constant praise from government and media...

Well, it felt like praise.  This was THE time in history for us anti-social introverts, when keeping your distance from others, and staying shut away at home as much as possible, became the right thing to do.  

4.  Edinburgh Rugby classic matches

As a fairly recent convert to supporting the club their decision to broadcast classic games from the past, every Saturday at 3, was the perfect means to learning a bit more about them, and having some regular sport to look forward to.  A ritual developed, as I vanished off with a tray of snacks to shout at a screen for a couple of hours.  They finished a few weeks ago, and I still miss them.

5.  The Stand's Saturday night shows

I've watched plenty of musicians doing live web shows in recent months.  Playing to no live audience must be a strange experience, and some adapted to it better than others, but once they are playing that's them into their comfort zone, doing what they do best, irrespective of the dearth of people in the room.  But it's an even tougher experience for stand up comedians, who rely so much on laughter to keep them going.  So it's been fascinating to watch the evolution of the show that the Stand Comedy Club has broadcast every Saturday evening since lockdown began (and which will continue for the foreseeable future, as there's little prospect of them being able to open for weeks, maybe months, to come).  Both in terms of the format of the show, and ability of individual comics to adapt their act to the new circumstances.  As with the musicians some have managed better than others, but everyone who's had the chance to have a few goes has improved every time.  While the comedy value can be hit and miss it's still a must-watch, with some brilliantly memorable moments along the way.  (And some bafflement during the 2 weeks when it came from the Newcastle club - were we the only ones needing subtitles?)

Also, in conjunction with #4, Saturday's became the only day of the week with the slightest bit of structure.

6.  Strangers keeping their distance

See #3 above!  

Apart from the eejits walking along looking at their phones.  And some joggers.  And cyclists on the pavement (why, when the roads were almost deserted??).  

But otherwise...

7.  Not having to be anywhere on time

Yes, I have missed all the plays and gigs and shows and the whole major festival season that takes on Edinburgh from April to August.  Yes, I, sort-of, missed my voluntary work (although I've found the past few months has made me question much of what I want from life now).  And yes, I am retired so any target times I had to meet were purely of my own choosing.  But still... it's been so nice not to worry about being out on time, about missing buses or being in the queue early enough to get a good seat.  

Come to think of it, it was quite nice not having to be anywhere.

And never setting an alarm  😉

8.  More money than month

I've paid out to watch online gigs, like the Stand, tried to buy from some local businesses, done a bit of internet shopping.  But.  No stopping for cakes in cafes.  No tickets for ScienceFest, TradFest, FilmFest, JazzFest, Fringe, plays, films, random gigs.  Now I know where all my cash used to go to.

9.  Video chats

I've seen more of our old friends down south during the lockdown months than in the past five years after we moved north.  Hopefully this'll be one benefit of the pandemic that will stay with us.

10.  Lockdown hair

Who cared?  Wasn't it nice not to give a toss what you looked like (OK, some might be surprised that I did before...).  Wear what you wanted, look whatever.  And another contributor to #8.

Err...11.  Being together

I know I said ten, but I couldn't leave this one out, and I hope you're lucky enough to have had the same experience.

While we always did do a lot together, especially in August, we also had our separate lives, different voluntary activities, different evenings out.  But for lockdown, other than me going out for shopping some days, we were always around one another.  No doubt it helps that the flat is a decent size, so we could easily be doing different things, but it was still a huge increase in the amount of time spent in one another's company.  And that was just fine.  After 27 years it's nice to have a reminder of how much we actually like each other.  

(Well, how much I like her - she might say otherwise...)

I can't get angry any more. But that can change.

CAN ANYBODY FIND MY RAGE FOR ME?

We recently watched the BBC documentary about the rise (and fall and rise again) of Rupert, the man the great Dennis Potter name his pancreatic cancer after.  Barbara was near incandescent about the malign influence that twisted the outcomes of so many what-should-have-been exercises in democracy, notably in 2016 (I know everyone's saying 2020 is the worst year, but, at least for the UK, I'd still plump for four years ago in terms of doing long term damage).

And she's been fuming about Doris' raft of peerages yesterday.  His brother.  A thick cricketer who thinks (?) England is an island.  Ruth the Mooth, a woman we know holds many opinions because she's changed them so regularly.  A broad cross section of the population.  Well, the rich, corrupt and talentless bit of the population.  And, and so good to see that those rumours of Russian interference were totally unfounded.

Oh, nearly forgot - there's an actual fascist in the list as well.  And why not, she doesn't even stand out from the rest of the shitshow.

But I can't get angry.  I can't even find it in me to be mildly surprised.  The UK has a PM who's a pathological liar and was even shown to have lied to parliament but didn't resign.  A housing minister who's openly corrupt.  A Home Secretary who was previously sacked from government for risking state security.  I could go on, but what's the point?  Once we were all forced to accept The Fairy Tale of Barnard Castle there's no scenario ridiculous enough to seem far fetched any more.  The Looking Glass is receding in the mirror.  In a year from now they'll be convincing the faithful that food shortages were what they voted for and this is what 'sovereignty' (or whatever) looks like.  But hey, blue passports, eh?

If I am going to get worked up then it looks like the source will be closer to home.  My relative passivity in the face of the above correlates with my increasing confidence that the UK is coming to an end and Scotland will be independent soon.  (Apologies to readers in England and Wales but you'll have to find your own lifeboat.)  Brexshit and Covid and an incompetent posh boy charlatan of a PM are coming together in a perfect storm.  And it now seems the only obstacle that could intervene is... the SNP?

So very many of us now want Indy to happen, want it soon so we can escape the iceberg Doris and co are hubristically steering towards, see it as the only real answer.  But does the SNP leadership?  Joanna Cherry has been the most prominent, and smart, voice in the party pushing for alternatives to a never-happen S30, and now she looks to have been sabotaged.  That won't quieten her in any way I'm sure, but it has set he warning lights off.  Nicola's done a good job this year - but if she starts faltering on the path to our final destination I might just locate that misplaced anger.