Rant of the day

Apologies, it took a while longer, but it had to come eventually...
the first rant is about...

The GP's.

I have been wondering for a while which of the 3 GP practises I should register at, and to my dismay, I have decided that they are all a shower of sharks and I want nothing to do with any of them.

My thought process went along the lines....

• Should I choose the one who is good in a crisis but crap with run of the mill stuff?
• Should I choose the one who sent someone with a dislocated hip home for the weekend with painkillers?
• Should I choose the one who thinks that OT's are a shortcut for getting the council to fit showers in ALL of their properties? (Hackles up)
• Should I choose the one who tried (and failed) to put (someone elses) dislocated hip back in by manipulating it under anaesthetic ON THEIR SETTEE rather than sending them to hospital!!

Honest to goodness, I'm just thankful that I can usually get away for a year or so without having to go to the doctor. The last thing on the list just cracked me up, you can be in Glasgow in 20 minutes by ambulance plane.

I feel a hearty bout of self diagnosed / self treated / self medicated nausea coming on at the thought of it!

The Guitar Club (mark II)

I imagine that I probably told most folk at some point or other about the guitar club at the local pub in Wales, they can be held entirely to blame for the wailing and warbling that my new neighbours now have to suffer.
Anyhow, it was in the Wheatsheaf guitar club that I discovered that after a few pints, it really isn't important if you can sing or not, or even if you make it to the end of the song, as long as you give it a go.
And I am greatly appreciating the late night live sessions which come by telephone link late on a Sunday night, even if they do make me feel strangely homesick.

So when I came here, I wondered what would be the likelihood of coming across another rare treat of a guitar club. And so it came to be... I found the Lochside guitar club. However, I have noticed a few crucial differences:

In Wales, the guitar club starts late on a Sunday night, and carries on until the last person goes home. Which was usually about 2am.

In Scotland, the guitar club starts at 8.30pm on a Wednesday, and you get tutted at if you come late. They are generally packing up at 10.30, when I am just getting warmed up.

In Wales, the more alcohol consumed, the better the performance (generally)

In Scotland, a more sober and sensible approach is adopted. And there is no smoking in the pub.

In Wales, all in attendance would participate in some form or other (singing along, foot stomping, glass clinking etc.)

In Scotland, there are a lot of 'spectators', usually tourists, who do nothing but LOOK at you. Creepy.

In Wales, I learnt a whole big range of random songs, due to the diversity of peoples tastes.

In Scotland, I shall be mostly learning irish folk songs. or maybe scottish. but all very old.

Now, beggers can't be choosers, and I shall be continuing on my mission to widen their musical tastes, and to get them to play some chords other than C, G, and D. They will learn to love Kirsty McColl even if I have to beat it into them!!!
And I shall be teaching myself a few more rowdy anti-tourist songs, which I shall taunt the spectators with, lest I become demented by mind numbing folk songs.

The Great Escape.

I had my first proper bit of escapism this weekend, I left the island for4 whole days, and by the miracles of modern travel, found my way back to Wales, in approximately one and a half hours flying time, compared to 12 hours driving time.

It was a strange surprise that Wales had turned into summer while I had been away, so made the most of it by getting in the first icecream and the first sea swim (bracing, but not too bad!)

You'll maybe not be surprised that I am yet to swim in the sea up here.
Having said that I am member of the local swimming club whose motto is "Swim y'bastards!"(written in Gaelic so as not to offend those of sensitive dispositions)


The pool is in Bowmore, and is heated by the Bowmore distillery, which is a useful form of recycling.

And the swimming club members can usually be found in the local pub after their swim, which is probably the best thing to do after excessive exercise.



Excuse the randomly inserted pictures,

These are not pictures from Islay:

Mean and moody Loch Fyne,

Mean and moody pirate

Mellow and moody piece of MacIntosh stained glass.

While enjoying my escape to civilisation, I spent an entire day in Glasgow.

There is loads of MacIntosh related gubbins there, the House for an Art Lover comes highly recommended. I shopped to within an inch of my life, such was the joy of being in a 'big city' again, having more or less got used to the lesser range available in the Co'.

Had to stop when I could no longer carry any more.

And it was time to return to the little island. Flying back home was quite strange, nearest I've felt to wondering what I am doing, almost like sending myself to Coventry.

See, let myself get dazzled by the big lights and pretty shiny civilisation.

Ah, you'll have some tea...ah go-on. Go-on, go-on, go-on!

For those that can't guess, this means that my parents have been up to visit.

Which has been, a bit of a challenge for me, having got used to having the house to myself and being able to decide what and when I eat and drink. It got a bit easier towards the end of the week when I gave up getting stressed out about it. Mothers are always mothers I guess! Still, we went to Jura, which is about 5 minutes away on the ferry, and has an amazing garden:















And I got intimidated by the big scary Paps of Jura:


They don't look too bad from a distance, but the closer you get, the bigger they seem, until they are big scree covered monsters whispering your name in the dark. Maybe one day....

Mystery object no.1

OK, can anyone tell me what this came from?

Apologies for the pictures being a bit fuzzy.

I found it on the beach, and it's obviously had bits worn away, but I can't figure out what kind of animal it came from

so a prize to the first person who can tell me what it is!!


(anyone who wondered what I spent my time here doing... obviously I am spending a long time puzzling over bits of dead animals that I find on the beach)

The movies come to town

You know sometimes you fancy going to the cinema...

Well here it is not quite so convenient, but if you wait a while, the cinema might just come to you.

This is the screen machine, an expanding articulated lorry that goes around visiting the scottish islands and growing into an 80 seater cinema.

Once inside, you would never guess that you are sitting in a lorry watching Walk the Line



Never mind that you are at a cinema beside the beach.

I'll probably be waiting another few months for it to turn up again, but never mind, I'll take popcorn next time!

Kipper throws a strop

Kipper being my car.

A couple of weeks ago I had a flat tyre driving back from Bunnahabhain at half one in the morning, which didn't please me much, but it was a novel experience to change a tyre by moonlight, and the most beautiful view I've ever had while changing a tyre, then the next morning, there was another flat tyre.
Now the fist one I could cope with, the second had me scuppered.
No Kwikfit, garage not open til Monday.
Rescue by friendly man with can of Tyreweld

This week the battery died when I was just finishing a visit in Port Ellen. Lucky it hadn't decided to die a couple of hours earlier when I was in the midle of nowhere.
No RAC, no-one answering their mobiles,
Rescue by Fireman/airport man

Suffice to say, I don't think Kipsy is enjoying island life much
He seems to be in revolt at the moment about the state of the roads, the salty air and the bird crap.
He is not appreciating that there are no traffic lights, no roundabouts, no pedestrian crossings and the man at the petrol station serves you your petrol.

The birds and the bees...

OK, not the birds, and the bees, the deer and the seals.
Yet to see the full range of wildlife up here, so only have pictures of the easy to spot ones:

Seals: mostly to be found sunbathing on the rocks at the end of the day, at Portnehaven or near Ardbeg.

Deers: Red ones like these, hopefully fenced in on one of the estates and not bouncing off the road in front of a car.

Yet to be seen are the Golden eagles (have to be up in the hills for that)

Otters (have to be up early in the morning)

Numerous sea birds (have to know what you are looking for)

Will not be seen on Islay: Badgers and foxes - apparently. I can't believe a fox has never sneaked over on the ferry. There was once a wallaby here though.