Pack-a-doodle dooo

Man, I hate packing.

I've got a pile of clothes and climbing gear all set for my alps trip and I have no idea how to rationalise it all. So I think I'll take all of it. Hurrah for not flying.

In other news, I saw about 3000 fringe shows last weekend when the mighty Del, the lovely Chloe and the perplexing Henry invaded my city like the tourist Londoner scum that they are. Can't be arsed to review it all but I saw Charlie Brooker, both of the Hollies from Red Dwarf AND got my question read out on 'We Need Answers' all in one day. It was special.

I also failed my driving test last week because I broke the speed limit. Twice. Ooops.

Right, will post again in a couple of weeks with breathtaking photos and tales of derring-do.

Tata!

Invaders

Every August, they come here, with their haircuts, their overpriced beer and their 'culture'.

Most of the year, Edinburgh's the sort of peaceful city where lazy misanthropes like myself can merrily wander the streets without fear of jostling from hideous 'other people' whilst still enjoying the benefits of city life. Basically, I can go and buy Kettle Chips at midnight whilst avoiding the sweaty masses. Ace.

For one month, though, literally millions of hideous, yelping humans flock here to 'see stuff', booze themselves silly and GET IN MY WAY. All of a sudden Arthur's Seat is crowded with human cattle, pubs swarm with idiots in pork-pie hats and every square centimetre of indoor space is turned into a 'venue'. I took one of my shoes off to scratch my foot in the street the other day and when I tried to put my foot back in a troupe of lycra'd dwarves were performing an interpretive dance about the Iraq war in it.

And these people are some of the worst sort known to man: 'Creative' types. Now, don't get me wrong, there's any number of great performers, artists, etc who've enriched mankind no end. The problem is, they're followed around by a bunch of unimaginative gobshites who swan about the place pretending to have a reason to live. You can spot them wondering around town wearing some wacky headgear and a pair of plastic 'Elvis' shades handing out forests of paper to promote their awful show. They should all be rolled up in a giant newspaper and fired into the centre of the sun. With these folk about it's like living in London, only without the ethnic diversity or decent public transport.

There are, however, some decent comedians on and fireworks every night. When I get me that Taser I ordered it could almost be quite a fun place to be!

What Were the Skies Like When You Were Young?

They were fucking ace.

The Pentland hills are a mere 20 minutes of uphill sweating on a bikefrom work, and once there it's a veritable playground for mountain bikers. Never-ending uphills, super-fast downhills, a few wee jumps, midges - the lot! It makes me feel pretty lucky when I'm sitting eating my post-work snacks on the grassy hillside gazing idly at the reservoir reflecting the early evening sky. Much better than going to the gym or something.

Start Again

Whooooeeeee. Well, everyone else seems to be blogging like crazy, so I guess it'd be rude for me not to resurrect my own little corner of the internet.

So I thought I'd start a clean slate and explain who I am and what this blog will contain.

This is me:

I write this blog from my room high up in a tower above the beautiful city of Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland. It's an amazing city to be in, and I will no doubt yammer on about it ceaselessly in posts to come.

I make a living working in a chemistry lab, where I mostly take bits of goo and put them through horrible chemical ordeals in order to make sure the people in the adjacent factory are doing their job properly so that we don't poison anyone (the goo gets used in medical applications). I have the usual complaints that many folk have for their jobs: monotony, poor management, crap holidays. On the up-side, I love the cycle commute and the job's pretty undemanding, plus I can smugly approach it in a thoroughly half-arsed fashion smug in the knowledge that I have no intention of keeping a career there.

I started this blog so that I could show off all the big words I know and also have the odd rant. So what can you expect to read about here?

Well, I love the outdoors, particularly climbing (rock, ice, whatever) and cycling (on or off road). Much of my free time gets spent travelling to what I can only describe as big grown-up playgrounds where I can indulge in some mild derring-do. It's all actually a lot less dangerous than it sounds and a lot more fun than it should be, and I get to see some truly amazing things that you just don't get to see unless you go a bit off-piste. Like this:



I also listen to music endlessly. My tastes are fairly broad, but I have no time for bad music, or worse, mediocrity. Be warned that I may loose all sense of proportion when praising/damning some music, but then what's music for if not to get passionate about?

To that end, I will end this post with a short playlist of what's been rocking my hungover Sunday:

Mogwai - My Father My King
Sufjan Stevens - Sister
Malcolm Middleton - Fight Like the Night
Nelly Furtado - Maneater
Simian Mobile Disco - Sleep Deprivation
Caribou - Melody Day (Four Tet Remix)
Daft Punk - Da Funk
Fujiya & Miyagi - Transparent Things
CSS - Music is My Hot, Hot Sex
Prodigy - Charly
Idlewild - In Remote Part/Scottish Fiction