Ben Cruachan

Ben Cruachan summit

Loch Etive to the north

Ben Cruachan still in cloud from Drochaid Ghlas

Looking down to the dam from the ridge between Cruachan and Drochaid Ghlas

Ben Cruachan from Stob Diamh

Twenty press ups for the last one down

Monday 26 September 2011

1410m of ascent, 14km, 5hrs 35mins

m  Ben Cruachan           1128m          2hrs 40mins
t    Drochaid Ghlas         1009m          3hrs 34mins
m  Stob Diamh                 998m          4hrs   3mins
t    Stob Garbh                  980m          4hrs 20mins

It was the Glasgow September Holiday Monday and Gregor suggested a walk. There are only a few munros in our current rounds left for either of us south of Fort William.  The Cruachan horseshoe had the advantage of being near enough to allow Gregor to get back to Glasgow to play football afterwards. We went via Balloch, Loch Lomond and Loch Fyne, it was dry but rain was threatened and the hills were in the clouds above 600 metres.  On the drive to Loch Awe from Inverary, Ben Cruachan loomed into view beneath the wide brim of dark cloud.

We parked by the power station and cut under the railway line by a tunnel at the halt.  This was a mistake for we soon lost any path and began a 300-metre ascent through chest-high bracken, brambles and wet grasses.  The air was still and sweat soon added to the damp conditions. Eventually, we reached the pylons leading to the dam, climbed a precarious 2-metre high fence and found the private road which allowed us to gather some pace up to the dam. We crossed the dam whilst speculating whether it was low enough to jump into the water on one side or too steep to run down the ribs on the other side. The answers were yes and yes. There is a good track around the west side of the reservoir until the burn from Coire Dearg is reached at the end of the reservoir.

From here a good path ascends by the side of the burn although today it was a bit of a quagmire after recent heavy rains.  We climbed to 800 metres where we stopped for a drink and sandwich just before we ascended into the clouds.  This is where I had bivouacked 6 years ago with John and Mark so that we could do all 4 munros the next morning and be home by early afternoon.  We climbed to the bealach between the top, Meall Cuinail, and Ben Cruachan and then began the long climb up the perched boulders to Ben Cruachan.  The wind was not as strong as we had expected but still chilled us as we reached the broken trig point. A flask of coffee was an unusual treat for us. It compensated for the lack of views, we were enclosed by clouds so grey it could have been an art gallery.

I had to take a compass bearing to be sure of our way off the summit and along the splendid ridge that is the highlight of the Cruachan horseshoe.  We reached the section where it falls steeply and a party of three were inching their way down the slippery rocks. By the time we reached Drochaid Ghlas, the clouds were beginning to lift and we could see the rest of the ridge leading to Stob Diamh.  A couple of walkers were starting the climb to Stob Diamh ahead and they gave us an extra incentive to chase our time of 5hrs 55mins for the same walk of 12 years ago when Gregor was in his early teens and I was not in my early sixties.

At the summit we stopped for a final drink and an orange and then there was just the easy saunter over to the top of Stob Garbh before descending to the Cruachan reservoir.  It was very boggy and a great relief to reach the dam, we had passed all the other walkers and were moving at a 'get back in time for football' pace.  We dropped down and found the path below the pylons and raced each other down to the railway line.  It was steep, wet, slippy and overgrown with prickly and wet vegetation making for a very uncomfortable descent.  By a simple twist of fate, he started in front of me, Gregor made it down first and insisted on a photograph of me posing on the rail line for a 'Blood on the Tracks' photo.

Balcony Politicians

Osborne and Cameron in economic crisis mode

It has been a strange week with Western economies flirting with economic meltdown yet again.  Watching our politicians cavort on the world stage is not a pretty sight with David Cameron and George Osborne both preferring to sit in the gods as if Statler and Waldorf - heckling their European partners in the financial crisis rather than making any serious attempt to become part of the solution.

Cameron signed a round-robin letter to President Sarkozy urging the eurozone countries to act swiftly.  We might expect this sort of open letter to be sent by an 'angry resident of Tunbridge Wells' but not the Prime Minister. He has relegated himself to one of the crowd, not one of the players in Europe, which will no doubt satisfy the anglophiles in the party.

George Osborne said the Europeans had made no progress in saving the euro over the past six weeks and needed a fund of at least €400bn to safeguard the euro. He added that the UK was ahead of the curve and had credibility, moreover, he had no intention of changing his policies.  Britain's problem as we are frequently told by the coalition was all the fault of Gordon Brown who created the mess in the first place, but as I recall he was instrumental in bringing the G20 together in London to agree on policies to rescue the banks and diminish the recession. It is finding solutions that matter not stoking a culture of blame.

We could do with some truth about the economy, not another bout of being 'economic with the truth' from our two leading politicians.  But then I am perhaps making the fundamental mistake of believing that our politicians are leaders when they have never served an apprenticeship as managers let alone leaders in any form of business. They seem to act as if running the country is just another jape.

This sort of disassembling and disavowing responsibility destroys any trust I had in the coalition's ability to make progress on the economy.  I had understood Osborne's obduracy about the need to reduce the deficit but his obsession with slashing public expenditure was always going to damage the economy. He should remember that obdurate politicians over the past thirty years such as Thatcher, Scargill,  Rumsfeld, and Brown have eventually suffered demeaning exits.

We should also observe that the IMF has proved on dozens of occasions that forcing fragile economies from Argentina to Iraq and most of Central America to swallow tough monetary policies and forcing them to sell off public assets to the multinational bottom feeders like Haliburton merely wrecks their economies and causes massive long term unemployment and poverty.

So, if all the problems are in the eurozone and the UK has credibility in the financial markets according to Osborne, what are we to make of the following stories that have emerged in the press this week?

• a fall of 5.6% in the equity markets, the largest drop since March 2009 during the depths of the recession
• Unemployment was up last month by 80,000, the largest rise for 2 years taking unemployment to 2.51m
• Youth unemployment up to 973,000 - a million by Christmas?
• a drop in sports participation in the UK of 7% this year as people can no longer afford to use private facilities and local authorities close sports centres and swimming pools and increase charges. Much of the lottery money has been diverted into the Olympic facilities, which will be London's legacy but the rest of the country has paid for it by losing support for local sports organisations and facilities.  
• Our monthly borrowing has reached record levels of £16.4bn as the tax receipts decrease and higher benefit payments are required as unemployment rises. 
• Strikes are threatened by teachers, police and other public sector workers in response to pensions being delayed and contributions increased.
• the Health Minister, Andrew Lansley, blamed the cost of PFI for NHS funding problems and attributed this to the Labour government.  Yet it was John Major's Tory government that made it clear to Councils, the NHS and other public bodies that the only method to get investments or schools, hospitals or large capital projects was to go down the PFI route. 


The biggest crisis of all is the accelerating inequalities of income, health, education and job opportunities that the government have bestowed on its citizens. True that the income inequalities stemmed from what Thatcher introduced and Major, Blair and Brown implicitly endorsed. This is becoming chronic and more evident every day. When Tesco claim that they will drop prices by £500m or between 15% and 50% on popular items you know we are in deep shit.

Pretending that our problems stem from the collapse of the eurozone or the legacy of Gordon Brown won't wash for very long, so grow up boys and start acting as if you could make a difference, this is not the Bullingdon club.

Sunday Weathers

Looking back from the Nab

Lerwick, Commercial St.

Muckle Roe from Vementry

Nibbon

Nibbon Delight

Foula at Sunset from Whiteness

Whiteness Sunset

Near Night Colours

Sunday 18 September 2011

Another day with threatening weather after a night of wind and clattering rain.  It was still stormy and the trick for the day would be to seek out the best of the weather.  I wanted Aileen to see the best of Shetland during her short stay and my work was almost finished so there would be no opportunity for further visits. The dark clouds were congregating over South Mainland.  So after the rains stopped we made a circuit of Lerwick starting with a walk to the Knab as I had done every day this week and then to the harbour to see the Norwegian fishing boats that were here for the mackerel season. As the winds dropped at lunchtime we headed for the brighter skies in the west and ended up having a coastal walk overlooking the island of Vementry beyond Aith with its splendid views over Swarbacks Minn to Muckle Roe.

The best blue skies were in the north so we drove to Brae and stopped for an afternoon tea of mussels and Victoria sponge at Frankie's.  It was the early evening but I had heard a lot about Nibbon from friends and the evening looked perfect for the short trip from Brae.  It was tranquil and a perfect place to amble about and absorb the seascapes and gentle wildness. We were slightly surprised when a canoe paddled past in this most remote of locations trailing a mackerel line, this looked the perfect antidote to fears of a collapsing economy.

We headed south and decided to divert via Weisdale and Whiteness in the hope of catching a sunset and we were rewarded with the most spectacular light show looking out to Foula in the west.  As the sun dipped below the horizon the blue sky became tinged in pink and then took on hues of orange and red that were reflected in a canopy of cloud.  It was the best 15 minutes of sunset I have ever witnessed and in complete contrast to the miserable daybreak that had lowered the spirits. In Shetland, despite the predominant grey skies, blues and reds are never far away. 

Unst Blue Skies

Yell bound

Hermanness

Muckle Flugga

Viking longship

Belmont House

Saturday, 17 September, 2011

The weekend weather forecast was dire and the drumming of rain on the windows and horizontal washing on the lines next door suggested that it was probably accurate.  I figured that the only possibility to get any decent weather was to go as far north as possible to the edge of the depression but even that was a long shot.  The Yell ferry, normally as steady as a billiard table, was rolling a bit during the crossing and the seascapes were a study in grey.  We wasted no time driving north across Yell and as we landed on Unst the rain and wind abated. Unst welcomed us with blue skies and it became possible to plan a walk at Hermaness so that Aileen could get to Muckle Flugga.

As we walked across the boardwalk from the lighthouse station to the west coast the sun warmed us which was a worthy prize given that dark clouds covered all places south.  The ground was boggy after recent rains but we walked along the cliff tops in company with the sheep, the rabbits and the remaining sea birds.  The sea stacks were still home to thousands of gannets, the puffins had gone and the Bonxies were fewer than before and had none of the territorial attitudes that give them a Hitchcockian presence during the breeding season.  We walked to the far north and the sheep posed as we admired the views to Muckle Flugga.

On the return, we stopped to visit the Viking longship by Harold's Wick and we were joined by one of the men who was working on the restoration.  He explained the project and life on Unst with the wisdom and serenity that his 80 years had equipped him with.  It had been doors open day but we were too late to visit Belmont House which sits above the ferry terminal.  I was told by someone on the ferry that it was a star exhibit since its recent renovation and that it had been furnished lavishly and included some Hepplewhite chairs donated by Historic Scotland.

We returned to Yell and revived ourselves with some tea and cakes in the friendly Wild Dog cafe at Gutcher and managed to get back to the car before we were spotted and chased by the famous geese.  The journey back to Lerwick was into double darkness as the black clouds and nightfall competed to extinguish the joy of the day.  In Lerwick, the horizontal rain told us that we had made a good call and escaped the inclement weather system. 

Paxos

Sunset at Erimitis

Kipos Beach 

Lunch at Gaios

Anti Paxos

Loggos 

Blue forgotten seas

Loggos Harbourfront

Greece as it was in my Youth

Blue Caves

Greek islands are timeless and seem to conjure the most vivid and relaxed holidays. In the 1970's I spent 4 summers travelling around the Greek Islands, on a cheap flight to Athens and then selecting a ferry to one of the islands, usually in the Aegean or Dedocanese, and taking a room or sleep on beaches or occasionally in lemon groves.  The food was simple and good and even Retsina was better than the cheap wines that were obtainable in the UK at the time.  I bought a book: 'Greece on $10 a day', and I wondered why the Americans found it that expensive. The Greeks were always hospitable, the seas were aquamarine and the swimming totally invigorating.

We decided that a relaxing holiday would be to go to one of the Ionian islands which I had not visited and had been recommended by my sister. Paxos was too small to have been ruined by the giants of the travel industry and seemed to be run by mainly local family businesses. We could bolster the Greek economy without it being siphoned off to the multinationals. Its industries are olive oil and tourism and its clientele is Greek, Italian, German and British.

It was a good choice and arriving by hydrofoil from Corfu meant that a hire car was instantly available and we were at our accommodation within 30 minutes of arriving.  Paxos is in the Ionian Sea and looks across to the mainland. It is the hub of sailing for many Italians and had a fair share of Brits, including several Cayman Island registered gin palaces that make you ashamed for being British. They are a good reason to tighten up on offshore tax havens to reduce the deficit.  Far more sustainable were the flotillas of yachts for sailing holidays.

And relax we did, 2 weeks of reading, swimming, eating minimally but well and having the occasional trip to the various small villages, beaches and the adjacent island of Anti Paxos.  Food was simple and much the same as it had been in the 1970s: honey and yoghurt for breakfast; tomatoes, olives, feta cheese and bread for lunch and fish or chicken or lamb with rice or potatoes and salad for the evening.  It agreed with us perfectly.  But best of all was the accommodation for the second week, a new villa built of indigenous limestone by the owner of the local cement works with a view and an infinity pool that would let us dream through the autumn and winter months ahead.

Relax

Double Dip Economies and Riots

We have been told by the government that there is no connection between the continued collapse of our economy this week and the riots and looting that have taken place in many cities.  They are right in some ways, it has been a wave of copycat vandalism and crime marshalled by the use of social network sites and Blackberry messaging. But there is also a common factor between the two events, lets call it wealth and inequality.

For at least the last twenty years western economies have been running on fiscal deficits and have used their democratic stability and the fact that they host most international institutions to create a credit rating which belies the harsh economic facts of their static economies and mounting trade deficits.  The workshops of Asia have provided not only cheap consumer goods for the west but also created the surpluses to bail out the western economies which are heavily in debt.  The tide is beginning to turn and the low tide economies like Greece, Ireland and Portugal are already drowning in debt.  The newly developed economies are taking off and beginning to spend some of their wealth, the call for a new global currency to replace the dollar will continue and the euro is no longer a contender.

Meanwhile in England the vast distortion in wealth started under Thatcher, encouraged by Blair and tolerated by Brown has created a nation where conspicuous consumption lives cheek by jowl with poverty of opportunity and, increasingly, real financial poverty.  The desire by people to have a greater stake in the national prosperity that surrounds them in affluent lifestyles and consumer goods stems from the same aspirations and greed that flatlining developed nations like the UK seek to achieve by tapping into global wealth creation.  Credit debt is both local and global.