Category Archives: Op-eds

I love Orkney. I’ve only visited it three times and would love to go more often but it is a bit of a trek to get there from London. But these days I get a lot of pleasure from exploring it again online and in my imagination.

The first time we went to Orkney we drove the full distance from London to Scrabster on the northern coast of mainland Scotland, near John O’Groats. We took several days to get there, stopping off for a break in Inverness. The ferry trip from Scrabster to Stromness was beautiful, as we passed the Old Man of Hoy surrounded by arctic terns. We stayed in an ancient cottage tucked away in the steep lanes of Stromness.

Returning a week later was a different story.  The ferry was very late leaving and then took a long detour through the protected Scapa Flow before attempting to cross the notorious Pentland Firth in a heavy storm. That was the worst sea journey of my life. I was terrified. I now understand why the Firth is such an important sea defence.

I said I would never again try the sea crossing, so on the last two occasions we have flown from one of the Scottish airports. I don’t know how Alistair Carmichael manages his weekly commute in happier times, as it can’t be done in one hop from London. On one of our visits we popped in to his constituency office which is behind St Magnus Cathedral in Kirkwall.

So why do I love the place? It is totally different from the rest of Scotland, geographically and culturally – indeed, its heritage is more Viking than Scottish. There are no forests – in fact, no trees at all on the main island (simply known as Mainland) or on most of the outlying islands. There are no mountains, no heather, no steep sided lochs. But there are huge horizons, gentle hills, amazing birds and the wind, always the wind.

I’ve hardly worn shoes now for 5 weeks. I normally go around in bare feet or socks indoors, and I have only needed to put shoes on to go in the garden.

Like most people I’m also wearing my most comfortable clothes at home so some of my smarter things haven’t come out of my wardrobe at all. I’ve not bought a single item of clothing, I haven’t worn any makeup, and I have avoided all those impulse buys that attract me when I am out shopping.

On top of that we haven’t been out to the cinema, theatre or to a concert, we haven’t eaten out and we haven’t visited anywhere that charges an admission.

So I guess that when we eventually come out of this (and as vulnerable people that means in at least three month’s time) we will have made some significant savings. I feel a bit guilty about that, to be honest, because I know that many people are finding things really tough financially under lockdown.

Memories of our last holiday

So the Government is getting worried that people are making plans for a summer holiday this year. I have long ago given up any hope of having one.

We had planned a rather special holiday in July this year which would have included a visit to the Passion Play at Oberammergau. As I mentioned in an earlier diary the play has been postponed for two years. The deep irony is that the play is performed every ten years as a thanksgiving for being spared the plague nearly 400 years ago.

We are also hoping to go to Canada later in the year to visit my brother who lives near another Kingston, in Ontario. Then we heard the delightful news that his eldest daughter is getting married in the Autumn so the idea is to share that occasion with all our Canadian relatives. My niece is still hoping to go ahead with the wedding, but at the moment we really don’t know whether we will be able to fly again or not.

We have also had to put on hold any trips to Northern Ireland to see my older son and his wife who live in Coleraine. They had booked to stay with us this week and we would probably have all met up again later in the summer. Instead, we have been Skyping with them on a daily basis, especially when my son developed coronavirus – fortunately he was over the main symptoms in a week, although it left him exhausted.

My very first isolation diary on 16th March was titled Paying the Newsagent. That was followed by Going for a walk and Doing the shopping. A pattern was emerging, and I love patterns, so I have started each title with a present participle ever since.

My fascination with patterns fuelled my interest in the English language, Maths, Philosophy and eventually Computer Science. When I took O level English Language I always attempted the optional questions in analysis (ie grammar) because I knew I could get them right, whereas other questions had more subjective elements to them.

At various times in my life I have been fascinated by the patterns to be found in the tessellations within Escher’s paintings (I used one to illustrate this diary), in the repetitive elements of Bach chorales and in the elliptical thinking of the logician Kurt Gödel. So it is perhaps not surprising that I loved Douglas Hofstadter’s book Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid, when it came out in 1979. The problem now is that I can’t find my copy of it. I must have lent it to someone – at the time I was recommending it to anyone who I thought might enjoy reading it. (Before anyone kindly offers to send me their unwanted copy I have now ordered it again.)

What I do remember is that the book was not an appreciation of the three creative people in the title, or even an assessment of their greatest works. Apparently, it can be found categorised in bookshops and libraries variously under maths, general science, philosophy, cognitive science, religion and the occult (the last two don’t quite hack it). So what is it about?

Many readers will have received the April Newsletter from the party. It begins promisingly:

Our teams in Westminster, Holyrood, the Senedd and Council Chambers across Britain have been doing their best to help their communities through this crisis and to hold the Government to account. You can read more about their work in this newsletter.

Except I can’t – read, that is, about what our devolved assemblies and local councils are doing.

We are given some news about the leadership election and the election review, followed by articles from four of our MPs – on the Labour leadership, NHS workers, homelessness and the needs of students. These are all worthy causes, but where are the voices from Holyrood, the Senedd and from over 400 local councils?

In fact, local councils are another front line in the coronavirus emergency. Not only are they directly responsible for social care to their most vulnerable residents, but they are also stepping up as community leaders to co-ordinate the responses to self-isolation and lockdown.

In my own (small) London borough of Kingston upon Thames, the council has worked with local charities and organisations to set up a volunteering hub, which has already attracted over 1200 volunteers. There is a dedicated helpline for anyone who needs support, and they are proactively contacting people like my husband who is on the extremely vulnerable list.

Council officers are doing a fantastic job keeping essential services going, such as bin collection, and providing support to people with financial challenges at the moment.

I hadn’t heard of boxty until my son and his wife took us to Holohan’s Pantry in Belfast, a restaurant that offers traditional Irish food with a modern twist. Boxty of the day appears on every menu.

It’s appears quite simple really – a pancake made with grated raw potato, fried in butter, crispy on the outside and soft within. I was expecting a new veg and fruit box today, but still had quite a lot of potatoes to use up so decided to have a go at making it yesterday.

Boxty presents a few challenges – I’m sure I must have a gadget somewhere in the cupboard that would make the process of grating a lot of raw potato easier, but if so I couldn’t find it. Then the potatoes have to be placed in a tea-towel and squeezed to get out as much liquid as possible. The liquid is left to stand until the unwanted water separates from the starch, which is then added back to the potatoes with flour, salt and buttermilk.

Ah yes, buttermilk. Not something I usually have in my house, and I can’t pop down to my local Sainbury’s to get some even if they stocked it. But what I do have is quark – some of you will understand why I always have some in my fridge. Quark is a soft cheese made from buttermilk, so I mixed a spoonful or so with some ordinary milk to get a good approximation to buttermilk.

The last time the country mobilised thousands of volunteers was for London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics.

The weather wasn’t so good yesterday so I went back to the cupboard in the spare room that I am gradually clearing and I came across a bag full of Gamesmaker kit. It brought back some wonderful memories.

I was in Event Services for the Paralympics, based in the Excel Centre  – so I am fully aware of how unbelievably vast that building is and why they could set up 4000 hospital beds inside.

My task was essentially Front of House, which meant I was greeting people as they arrived at the venue, answering questions, showing them to their seats and guarding pass doors, though not all at the same time.  I was a Team Leader, so I was allocated a new team of about 12 volunteers each day, and I then scheduled them for the shift, rotating people between the tasks and making sure they got mealbreaks.

Of course, preparations started years before and the Gamesmakers were recruited around two years before the event. We were issued with everything we needed, including a watch and umbrella, and were put through some excellent training (organised by McDonalds).