Making the Online Botanic Gardens Station Model (Part 1: The Model)

One of my “fun projects” this year has been to make an interactive model of the abandoned Botanic Gardens Station in Glasgow. Although I’ve dabbled in 3D modelling before, including making a documentary video about Scotland Street Tunnel last year, the Botanics project turned out to be by far the most complicated 3D thing I’ve made, as well as by far the most complicated bit of web coding to make a viewer for it. It’s been a lot of fun as well as a hell of a learning experience, so I thought I’d write it up here in case anyone is interested.

The finished model, viewed in Chrome for Linux

The finished model, viewed in Chrome for Linux

In Part 1, I’ll talk about making the actual 3D model. Part 2 will cover the viewer code that actually makes it possible to explore the model from the comfort of your web browser.

I made the station model using Blender, a very capable free, open source 3D package. While various software and hardware now exists that allows you to generate a 3D model automatically from photographs or video, I didn’t have access to or knowledge of it, and I’m not sure how well it would work in a confined and oddly shaped space like the Botanic Gardens Station anyway. So I did it the old fashioned way instead, using the photos I took when I explored the station as a reference and crafting the 3D model to match using Blender’s extensive modelling tools.

The whole model in Blender

The whole model in Blender

I tried to keep the dimensions as close to reality as I could, using one grid square in Blender per metre, referring to the published sizes of the station and tunnels where possible, and estimating the scale of everything else as best I could.

It was actually surprisingly easy and quick to throw together a rough model of the station itself – most of the elements (the platforms, stairs, walls, roof, etc.) are made up of fairly simple geometric shapes and I had the basic structure there within a couple of hours. But as with a lot of these things, the devil is in the details and I spent countless more hours refining it and adding the trickier bits.

The beginnings of the station model

The beginnings of the station model

Because there’s quite a lot of repetition and symmetry in the station design, I was able to make use of some of Blender’s modifiers to massively simplify the task. The mirror modifier can be used for items that are symmetrical, allowing you to model only one side of something and have the mirror image of it magically appear for the other side. (In fact, apart from the roof the station is almost completely symmetrical, which saved me a lot of modelling time and effort). The array modifier is even more powerful: it can replicate a single model any number of times in any direction, which allowed me to model a single short section of roof or tunnel or wall and then have it stretch away into the distance with just a few clicks.

Tunnel, modelled with array modifier

Tunnel, modelled with array modifier

Finally, the curve modifier was very valuable. The entire station (and much of the surrounding tunnel) is built on a slight curve, which would be a nightmare to model directly. But thanks to the curve modifier, I was able to model the station and tunnels as if they were completely straight, and then add the curve as a final step, which was much easier. (I still don’t find the curve modifier very intuitive; it took quite a lot of playing around and reading tutorials online to get the effect I wanted, and even now I don’t fully understand how I did it. But the important thing is, it works!).

Tunnel + curve modifier = curving tunnel

Tunnel + curve modifier = curving tunnel

Texturing the model (that is, applying the images that are “pasted onto” the 3D surfaces to add details and make them look more realistic) turned out to be at least as tricky as getting the actual geometry right. The textures had been a major weak point of my Scotland Street model and I wanted much better ones for the Botanics. Eventually I discovered the great texture resource at, which had high quality images for almost everything I needed, and under a license that allowed me to do what I wanted with them – this is where most of the textures for the model came from. The remainder are either hand drawn (the graffiti), extracted from my photos (the tunnel portal exteriors and the calcite), or generated by a program I wrote a while ago when I was experimenting with Perlin Noise (some of the rusted metal).

The fiddly part was assigning texture co-ordinates to all the vertices in the model. I quickly discovered that it would have been much easier to do this as I went along, rather than completing all the geometry first and then going back to add textures later on (especially where I’d “applied” array modifiers, meaning that I now had to assign texture co-ordinates individually for each copy of the geometry instead of just doing it once). Lesson learned for next time. At first I found this stage of the process really difficult, but by the time I’d textured most of the model I was getting a much better feel for how it should be done.

The model in Blender, with textures applied

The model in Blender, with textures applied

(The trees and bushes weren’t in fact modelled using Blender… more about them next time!).


The scary state of UK politics

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so depressed, and frankly scared, about the state of UK politics as I do right now… and that’s coming from someone who’s always found it pretty depressing ever since I started taking an interest in it about 20 years ago.

It’s clear that a lot of people are very angry with the political classes right now, and many of them vented that anger by voting to leave the EU. Although I’m not going to pretend I think that was a smart move, I do think they have legitimate reasons to be angry. A recent study shows that the UK is almost the only developed country other than Greece that’s seen ordinary people’s incomes fall in real terms over the past decade. Inequality continues to increase, with the people at the top (in some cases the same ones who were most responsible for the financial crash) getting even richer while the poorest areas are left to stagnate. Property prices have spiralled out of reach of the young, and insecure, badly paid jobs are becoming more and more the norm, making it impossible for them to plan their futures in the way their parents’ generation could. Health and education systems are being restructured so that their primary purpose is to generate profits for the companies that run them rather than providing a public service. Right wing politicians and media have been blaming immigrants and poor people for all this and, to top it all, there seemed little hope of anything changing because for years neither of the two main political parties (Tories or New Labour) had any inclination to do anything about it.

So yes. There’s a lot to be angry about, it’s true. Perhaps not surprisingly for a middle-class lefty, I blame Thatcher and Blair for much of the current mess. Thatcher because huge swathes of the country have never properly recovered from her destroying their livelihoods, and Blair because instead of doing anything much about this he decided to continue in much the same vein as the Tory governments before him. I also hold him responsible for teaching an entire generation that there’s no real point in voting because whichever party wins, you get policies that pander to the super-rich while the poor get shafted.

What scares me most is what’s going to happen when all those angry people start to realise that leaving the EU hasn’t solved their problems, and that if anything it’s just further empowered the right wingers who caused most of the problems in the first place. That anger isn’t just going to go away… they’re not just going to meekly shrug and say “OK, things got even worse then, fair enough”… but there’s no way the populist politicians and their cheerleaders in the press are going to let that anger turn on them, no matter how much they deserve it. I’m sure they’re already busily coming up with the next scapegoat, and that’s what worries me.

Will it be the EU’s fault for not giving us a decent deal when we left? Or maybe the fault of the immigrants that are still here despite Brexit? Maybe it’ll be the fault of lefty Remain voters (like me) for being unpatriotic traitors who won’t rally together for the good of the country (even though we voted against this madness)? Will it be the fault of the unemployed and disabled for bleeding the country dry? Or the public sector workers for being part of a bloated, lumbering bureaucracy that’s like a millstone around the neck of the sainted “wealth creators” in the private sector? Or even those pesky Scots for causing trouble and trying to de-stabilise the United Kingdom?

Most likely, it will be all of the above. The one thing we can be sure of, though, is that no matter how bad things get, none of it will ever be the fault of UKIP, or the Tory party, or their voters, or their supporters in the media, or their rich donors.

I fear things are going to have to get a lot worse before they get better. The Leave campaign, assisted by the tabloid press, have unleashed a force that no-one’s going to be able to control… they’ve stoked up people’s (rightful) anger and skillfully channeled it to exactly where they wanted it… but worse than that, they’ve encouraged anti-intellectualism to the point where I can’t see what, other than a disaster so massive that no-one in their right mind can possibly deny it, is ever going to stop this tide of anger now.

After all, how can you argue with someone who’s effectively rejected the entire concept of rational argument? It doesn’t matter how much evidence you can produce to support your viewpoint if your opponent is just going to dismiss all evidence as part of some elitist conspiracy against them and use it as an excuse to hold onto their opinion even more strongly and angrily than they were before. Of course, behaviour like this has always been pretty widespread, but the Leave campaign have now legitimised it on a huge scale.

I think the only thing that might defuse some of this anger would be if the politicians started addressing people’s real concerns, if they actually made some changes to re-balance the economy back towards benefiting ordinary people. Ultimately, offering to be tough on foreigners and criminals and the unemployed might be an appealing lightning rod for attracting some of that anger I was talking about, but it’s not going to actually satisfy anyone for long; what’s really needed is a fairer distribution of wealth, more secure employment, more affordable housing, etc., because those are the things that really make a difference to people’s lives. But the chances of that have never seemed more remote: look what happened when someone who seemed to genuinely believe in that won the Labour leadership last year. His party have thrown a huge hissy fit and been trying to force him out ever since, and the media have gone into overdrive trying to discredit him as an extremist, dangerous, out-dated, Marxist, terrorist sympathiser.

It worries me how many Labour members and supporters seem to think that if only they can get rid of Corbyn and install a nice, safe, media-friendly Blairite clone back into the leadership, everything will be just like it was back in 1997 again. It’s as if they haven’t learned anything at all from the Brexit vote, from Corbyn’s landslide win in the last leadership contest, from losing 40 of their 41 Scottish MPs last year. I’m not saying Corbyn is perfect; my feelings are that although his heart’s definitely in the right place, he possibly doesn’t have the temperament or the pragmatism required for leadership. But if Labour go to the other extreme and go back to being almost indistinguishable from the Tories again, that’s not going to do anything to solve the underlying problems that caused this current mess.

(Eagle-eyed readers will notice that despite living in Scotland, I barely mentioned the very different political situation north of the border. That’s because this post was getting long enough already… I might write more about Scotland specifically in a future post though).

To try to pre-empt some of the inevitable objections that people will have to the above…

“It’s people like you, calling Leave voters stupid and assuming you know what they think, that caused this result”.

I never said that all Leave voters were stupid, or that I know why they all voted the way they did. The EU isn’t perfect, there are plenty of legitimate reasons to object to it, and many people will have voted leave after considering those reasons. I just don’t happen to agree that those reasons outweigh the positives. However, it seems almost indisputable that a large number of people voted leave because they were furiously angry about feeling ignored by politicians for a long time, that many of them were disaffected Labour voters who on the face of it had little to gain and potentially a lot to lose from Brexit, and it seems reasonable to speculate about why this might have happened.

“Your side lost the referendum. Just get over it and shut up about it”.

What, like the Leave side would have done if Remain had won? Oh wait… Nigel Farage said before the referendum that he wouldn’t accept 52-48 as a large enough margin for a Remain victory, but now that it’s turned out to be a 52-48 victory for Leave, we’re all just supposed to quietly accept that and not even talk about one of the most momentous changes to our country in decades?

In any case, this isn’t just about the referendum… these problems have been brewing for a long time, the referendum just brought them to the surface.

“You just hate Blair because he was successful and got elected, and you lefties are much more at home in permanent opposition”.

Nope. I hate Blair because he squandered a great opportunity to undo some of the damage of the Thatcher years, because he removed any meaningful choice for voters in the UK, and most of all because he started an unnecessary and pointless war that cost hundreds of thousands of people their lives and destabilised the Middle East with disastrous consequences. The fact that he got elected doesn’t even figure in my hatred at all… I would have been over the moon if a Labour leader with genuine social democratic principles had got elected instead.

Anyway, by that logic I ought to hate Nicola Sturgeon even more, since she got elected, and she’s probably more popular in Scotland right now than Blair was in the UK even at his peak. But I don’t hate her at all, in fact I like her.

“Saying that Blair’s Labour party were no different to the Tories just shows how ignorant and biased you are”.

I never said there was no difference at all, and New Labour did do a few good things that the Tories probably never would have, like introducing the minimum wage, and devolving some power to Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. But it’s surely beyond dispute that Blair moved the Labour party much closer to the Tories than they’d ever been before. It was his government that introduced tuition fees; it was them that first introduced the Work Capability Assessments and benefit sanctions that are still causing so much misery for people who have to depend on benefits today; they funnelled huge amounts of taxpayers’ money to the private sector via scandalously wasteful PFI schemes (which in many cases didn’t even work properly). Whatever your opinion of those policies, they’re certainly not things anyone would have expected a Labour government to do prior to Blair. They are much more in traditional Tory territory.

“A fairer distribution of wealth isn’t possible in today’s globalised world. Any government that tried it would strangle growth and leave everyone worse off, so it’s not going to happen. That’s why neither main party will do it”.

I don’t accept that. As I said near the start, the only developed countries that have experienced such a large decline in real-terms wages since 2007 are the UK and Greece. Other comparable countries, like France and Germany and even the notoriously pro-corporate USA, all experienced significant wage growth over the same period, so it obviously isn’t impossible.

Positive Reasons to Stay in the EU

Even as a staunch Remainer from the start, I have to admit that the official Remain campaign has been pretty lacklustre. Not as bad as the borderline racist and almost entirely fact-free Leave campaign, thankfully, but just dull and uninspiring. Most of what they’ve put forward (at least, most of what I’ve seen) has been about the likely economic impact of leaving, and its effects on the cost of living.

Personally I think that, important though the economy is, it was a mistake for them to base their campaign on that. I doubt it will have convinced many potential Leave voters to switch sides, because it’s far too easily countered. When being told that the economy might be damaged or the cost of their weekly shop might go up, people can respond with “It’s a price worth paying to get back control of our country”, or “Well, people like me haven’t been benefiting from economic growth anyway, so why should I care about it now?”, which is an understandable sentiment considering that both main UK parties have spent the last few decades making sure that most of the proceeds from growth get siphoned up to a tiny minority of already rich people.

Some would argue that it had to be this way: that the Remain side was never going to be able to come up with anything very inspiring, because they’re tasked with defending a status quo that people are already accustomed to, and because even those who on balance support the EU find it hard to get very enthusiastic about it. It’s common to hear people say resignedly “My heart says leave, but my head says remain”.

I don’t agree with this. In my opinion there are far more inspiring and positive reasons to stay in the EU than the danger that GDP might drop by 2% or that your cornflakes might cost 12p more if we left. They just aren’t being put forward as much as they should be. In my case, my head certainly says “remain”, but my heart also says “remain”, if anything even more strongly.

"Being black, I worry about the rise of the anti-immigration Right. I'm also concerned about the effect of Brexit on the value of my house". #CatsAgainstBrexit

“Being black, I worry about the rise of the anti-immigration Right. I’m also concerned about the effect of Brexit on the value of my house”. #CatsAgainstBrexit

The continent of Europe certainly has its problems, and if you only look at what’s right there in front of you right now, some of those problems can look serious enough that it might make sense to bail out. But I think you need to look beyond that. If you look at the context, at the entirety of human history, and at what things are still like in much of the rest of the world, it’s hard to deny that (relatively speaking at least) present day Europe is an incredible success story, a beacon of prosperity, democracy, tolerance and peace in a world that seems desperately short of all those qualities.

We live in a continent that only a few decades ago, still within living memory, was tearing itself apart with war. Now its major member countries live in peace, co-operating on trade, science, solving environmental problems, and almost every other area of life. Even more recently, large swathes of Europe were still under totalitarian rule. Now those countries are starting to thrive as free, modern democracies.

For all the talk you hear of defending British values, I think Europe shares our most important values with us. The EU is made up of countries where (in general) you don’t need to worry about going bankrupt if you fall ill; where the poor and vulnerable are looked after rather than left to starve; where violence is seen as something abhorrent and shocking rather than as a normal, everyday occurrence; where people can think and say and believe whatever they want without fear of oppression; where workers are protected from the worst kinds of exploitation; where people’s opportunities aren’t limited by their gender or sexuality or skin colour; where everyone, no matter how poor, gets an education; where those accused of crimes will get a fair trial and won’t be tortured or executed by the state under any circumstances. Of course, not all of that works perfectly all the time, but by and large we are much closer to those ideals in Europe in the present than most of the world has been throughout the vast majority of human history, and I don’t think we should be taking them for granted and assuming that they’re all going to continue indefinitely no matter what we do in the future.

I’m not saying that all of this is going to be reversed straight away if we leave the EU. Clearly if there’s a Leave majority on Thursday, it’s not going to spark off World War III on Friday. But it seems to me that turning our back on the institution that’s presided over such a progressive group of countries for so long, pushing away our neighbours with whom we have so much in common, is fundamentally the wrong direction to be moving in. Last week, with the tragic murder of an MP by a far right “activist”, we’ve already had an example of what can happen when people are led down the path of hatred and division instead of friendship and co-operation. Let’s not go down that path as a nation.

I believe it’s going to be essential to have some sort of close international co-operation in order to solve the problems of the future. Issues such as climate change, tax avoidance and terrorism don’t stop at national borders. I would rather have a strong super-national body like the EU to help deal with those things than let them run rampant and unchecked; and I would rather it was a relatively democratic body with an elected parliament as well. The world has changed, and the challenges of today aren’t the challenges of 50 or 100 years ago. If we shut ourselves off from the world, those challenges aren’t going to go away, we’re just going to damage our ability to overcome them.


Common Sense Is Overrated

I won’t be popular for saying this, but what the hell. I don’t write these articles to make myself popular.

Right now it appears a lot of people believe that what this country really needs is a good dose of common sense. We should stop getting entangled in the nitty gritty details of things, stop listening to so-called “experts” with their big words and their complicated arguments, and just trust ourselves to know what we should do. After all, the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Politicians have kept it from us all these years, tried to pull the wool over our eyes and confuse us, tried to make sure that only the elite have a voice, but not anymore. This time we’re going to do what should have been done years ago, and to hell with all of them!

It’s an appealing sentiment in a lot of ways. But it’s also, I would argue, badly wrong.

Don’t get me wrong. Common sense is certainly useful in a lot of situations, and I’m not arguing that it’s a bad thing in itself. I could do with a bit more of it myself, I think. It’s great for getting you through the grind of day-to-day life with the minimum of fuss, and for solving problems that are similar to ones you’ve encountered before. But for deciding how to (for example) run a country, for making the really big decisions and looking beyond the obvious, it’s pretty lousy.

Let’s put one thing to rest before we go any further: people need to stop taking it so personally whenever anyone dares to suggest that someone who’s devoted their life to working in a particular field might know more about it than the people who haven’t. That isn’t elitism or snobbery, that’s just stating a fact. The reality is that many areas of life are so complicated these days that it takes a lot of time and a lot of research to properly get to grips with them. That’s just the way it is. Stating that most people aren’t realistically going to put in that time and effort for any given subject isn’t an insult, it’s simply a recognition that people have lives and don’t usually have time to learn about more than a handful of topics in real depth, no matter how intelligent they might be.

It’s undeniably true that human civilisation has got far more complex over the past decades, to the point where even experts in a certain field can’t realistically know everything there is to know about that field anymore. I remember years ago my girlfriend at the time was complaining about Microsoft Word behaving weirdly and wrecking the formatting of one of her assignments. It amused her greatly when I dismissively said “Yeah, Microsoft Word just does whatever the hell it wants”. She imagined that being a computer professional myself, I ought to have a perfect understanding of Word’s behaviour… but the truth is, that version of Word was probably made up of hundreds of thousands or even millions of lines of code, code which I’d never seen since it wasn’t relevant to my own work. Even the programmers who originally wrote it probably won’t be able to remember the reasons behind all of its behaviour without going back and looking at the code again.

Computer software and hardware is just mind-bogglingly, unbelievably complex these days, and it’s the same in many other fields as well. It wasn’t always this way though. Back in the early days of civilisation’s progress, new inventions and discoveries tended to be simpler and more intuitive. Even if not everyone could have had the spark of inspiration required to invent the wheel, almost everyone would be able to see how it worked, how to use it and why it was such a good idea once it was there in front of them. This was also true to an extent with early industrial technology such as steam engines: although it took a genius to envisage them before they existed, the concepts that make them work are relatively simple and understandable. Not so today: how many people really understand how a nuclear reactor works, or how a computer processor works, or for that matter how the global financial system works?

It’s easy to see all this complexity as a bad, intimidating thing, but is it really? I would argue that no, it’s actually a good thing… the reason we have so much complexity now is largely because we’ve solved most of the simple problems at this stage, so naturally what’s left is the more complicated problems. If anything, the fact that we as a civilisation have come this far should be cause for celebration, not lamentation.

It’s true that there are downsides to complexity, of course. Some fields (economics comes to mind) have got so complicated that even their best experts struggle to understand them, and any field that’s too complicated for most ordinary people to understand is liable to be viewed with suspicion (whether deserved or not). But to me, that isn’t a reason to throw away all our progress and go back to making decisions on the most shallow, simplistic grounds instead. It’s a reason to come up with better ways of dealing with the complexity. That goal isn’t necessarily as hopeless as it may sound: going back to computers, they may be vastly more complex than they were thirty years ago, but they’re also vastly easier to use, thanks to software engineers using some of the computers’ power to hide most of the complexity when possible.

“Common sense” would never have got us to where we are now. If everyone had always lived their lives by common sense, we’d still be living in caves. Before aviation existed, common sense would have told you that it was impossible for humans to fly, but it obviously isn’t. Before the era of modern medicine, common sense would have said that we couldn’t cure diseases by swallowing tiny little pills, or prevent other diseases by sticking needles in our arms, but we do those things every day now. What’s more, common sense would have said it was a waste of time to work towards any of that stuff, and that people should spend their time on something useful instead, like hunting enough animals to feed the tribe for another day.

And this is why I’m so suspicious of the “common sense” solutions put forward in politics. There are certainly a lot of them around these days, mostly put forward by loudmouth right wing types: we should leave the EU to save money, because it’s just common sense that paying them all that money leaves us with less. We should send home all the immigrants, because it’s just common sense that life would be better for British people then. We should stop doing anything about climate change, because it’s just common sense that it’s not really happening. We should stop paying benefits to the mentally ill and force them to work, because it’s just common sense that they’re faking it. We should stop pandering to transgender people, because it’s just common sense that they’re really attention seekers or perverts and don’t deserve our help. We should bring back the death penalty, because it’s just common sense that it must be cheaper and a better deterrent than jail.

No thanks. I’d rather listen to the experts (who incidentally disagree which pretty much all of that last paragraph), flawed as they may be. Then there’d be at least a chance of not dragging my country back into the dark ages.

I also think it’s interesting that the politicians who apparently want to listen to “common sense” are very selective about which common sense policies they’ll support. For example, I could suggest that it would be common sense to tax the rich more and give the money to the poor to eliminate poverty. Or that it would be common sense to prioritise the environment over the economy, since we can’t even survive without a healthy environment. As far as I can see those more left wing suggestions are at least as much “common sense” as the right wing ones I listed above. But try suggesting them to Nigel Farage or Boris Johnson, and I think you’d find they’re quite happy to go down the “Well, it may sound like a good idea, but it’s not really as simple as that…” route when it suits them.

The truth is, the Brexit supporters are appealing to “common sense” not because they believe it’s a good idea, but because it’s all they have left at this point. They know their arguments don’t hold any water with people who actually understand the realities of the situation, so instead they’re attacking the very concept of understanding, trying to make out that knowledge and insight are somehow elitist and undemocratic.

And sadly, judging from the recent polls, it looks as if they’re succeeding 🙁 .

Casual ageism… and why it’s bad

This is another thing I’ve been meaning to write about for a while, and something I saw posted by a couple of friends on Facebook has spurred me on to finally do it.

I’ve always found it slightly curious that ageism often doesn’t seem to be taken very seriously compared to the other -isms. There are countless articles online about things you shouldn’t do once you’re over 30*, for example, and although many people do find them annoying, they rarely provoke more of a reaction than that. Yet just imagine the uproar if there were breezy lifestyle articles on popular sites entitled “20 Things Black People Shouldn’t Do”, or “10 Things Gay People Need To Stop Wearing”.

The difference in response just seems odd to me… after all, you can’t choose your age any more than you can choose your skin colour or your sexuality, so why should it be considered more acceptable to judge and pigeonhole people according to age?

(* Full disclosure: the specific article that got me thinking about all this again was actually entitled something like “30 Things Women Over 30 Should Stop Wearing”. Now, I’m not a woman so I don’t really feel qualified to talk about the sexist aspect of the article – why “women over 30” and not just “people over 30”? – but I still feel entitled to stick my oar in when it comes to the ageism. In any case, I’m not really going to focus on that particular article much, it was more just a catalyst that got me back to thinking about the whole issue).

The underlying message of that kind of article always seems to be the same: you’re 30 now, so your life is over. Stop pathetically trying to enjoy yourself and get in the box we’ve made for you.

Let’s be honest: I’m the sort of person who probably gives those article authors nightmares. I’m nearer 40 than 30 now, but I still go to gigs; most days I still dress pretty much the same way I’ve dressed since I started high school (jeans, trainers, T-shirt); I love going on roller coasters; I explore abandoned structures that I’m not supposed to be in, just for fun; I had a massive buffet of Haribo sweets at my wedding reception; I still go to dance events where most of the attendees are students; I hang out with people for whom a good party is one that involves stripping naked and running into the nearest body of water; I called my largely pointless blog “Gcat’s World of Stuff”; when I go travelling I stay in cheap hostels like a gap year student, not because I desperately need to save money (though that is a nice side effect), but because I feel more at home in places like that. In short, “acting my age” is not really a concept that exists for me.

Front row on Nemesis

Front row on Nemesis

I have zero intention of stopping doing those things any time soon. If and when I do stop, it’ll be because that’s what feels right for me at the time, not because I happen to have been alive for some arbitrary, meaningless period of time. Hell, I didn’t even start doing about half of that stuff until I was already over 30!

At this point you may be thinking “Hang on, it’s not fair to compare ageism with racism and sexism. It’s different, because everyone gets the chance to be young once, so it’s reasonable to judge people who failed to get the ‘young person stuff’ out of their system at an appropriate age, people who refuse to grow up and move on”.

And I, in turn, could respond by pointing out that not everyone does get the same chances when they’re young. Many people’s childhood and adolescence are blighted by abuse, mental illness, physical illness, or any number of other circumstances that might make it difficult for them to spend time on enjoyable activites. In my own case those circumstances included bullying as well as very long lasting depression and anxiety… and now that I’m finally making real progress on getting over all that, I’m damned if I’m going to miss out on having some fun at long last, just because it makes some judgemental idiots squeamish to see over 30s enjoying themselves.

But I think to go down that line of argument would be to miss the more fundamental point. I’d be trying to justify something that should require no justification, buying into the underlying assumption that I should somehow be ashamed of what I’m doing, that I should feel I have to make excuses for my behaviour. I don’t have to make excuses, because there is nothing to excuse: I’m not hurting anyone.


I suppose people might argue that I’m hurting myself, though, and missing out on proper adult experiences by not acting my age. I disagree. I’m married, I work in a fulfilling and highly skilled job, I own a nice house and a nice car. I don’t think I’m missing out on anything… and I think the people who believe you need to stop doing what you love and start putting on some dull, soul-destroying act of “maturity” in order to succeed in the fields of dating and career are utterly, utterly wrong. You have a MUCH better chance of finding a partner or a job that’s right for you if you’re happy, relaxed and enjoying life than you do if you’re uptight, repressed and wasting all your energy on putting up a front to the world. Believe me, I know this from bitter experience!

It seems highly ironic to me that people who claim to value maturity so much are often the ones who judge others based on trivialities like what clothes they choose to wear or what activities they enjoy in their spare time. That doesn’t look much like mature behaviour to me… in fact that looks very much like someone who’s desperate to appear grown up to cover up the insecurities underneath, but lacks any understanding of what being grown up actually means. I’m reminded of the famous C.S.Lewis quote, “When I became a man, I put away childish things… like the fear of childishness, and the desire to be very grown up”.

But why does it matter?

You’re probably wondering why I chose to write a blog entry about this. After all, I could have just ignored it… I could have rolled my eyes, muttered “idiots” under my breath and moved on. And that is what I usually do these days, because if I let every ignorant comment get to me the way I used to, there wouldn’t be enough bandwidth on the internet to convey all the things I wanted to say back.

But this issue, I thought, merited a response, because I think it could easily turn into more than just an annoyance, to some people at least. I mentioned above that I was clinically depressed for a long time. There were a number of factors that helped me to get better a few years ago, but by far the most important one was re-learning to listen to my feelings and do things that would make me happy, regardless of what I felt I “should” be doing. In other words, it was mainly starting to do all of those supposedly age-inappropriate activities I listed above that finally lifted me out of the depression I’d been mired in for well over a decade.


In light of my experience, I think it’s downright irresponsible for anyone to be dishing out “advice” that amounts to telling people to give up on the things that make them happy. I’m sure the article authors would retort that they’re not forcing anyone to take their advice, and that’s true; but knowing what it’s like to be in a deeply depressed and vulnerable state, I suspect that the people who are least likely to be able to brush off things like this are also the most likely to be damaged by them. Of course some vapid, click-bait list that even the person who wrote it probably doesn’t really believe isn’t going to ruin someone’s life in itself, but I can easily see it pushing someone over the edge if they’re already in a precarious state. So I stand by what I said: it is irresponsible.

But then I’m 36 and I still wear trainers, so I suppose that disqualifies me from talking about responsibility anyway.

I Now Pronounce You Mr And Mrs Gcat

Laura and I got married on the 28th of May. Since I’ve previously decided that going for a walk by a river, fitting new spark plugs to my car and finding an Android music player app that can do gapless playback were important enough life events to merit writing blog entries about them, I decided that this probably was too.


For a long time, I didn’t used to think I’d ever get married. To be brutally honest, if it wasn’t for the rise of internet dating I probably wouldn’t have; I may be a bit less neurotic in some ways than I used to be, but I’d still rather ingest live slugs than attempt to chat someone up in “real life”. So it’s a good job I’ll never have to, now!

We’re just back from honeymoon (well, mini-moon… we might still do a bigger holiday later in the year) and it’s all still a bit of a blur. So far the most noticeable difference between being engaged and being married is that once you’re married you no longer have a wedding to organise, which believe me is a very welcome difference right now. But I guess since we’d already been living together for four years, bought a house together, adopted cats together, and so on, actually tying the metaphorical knot was never going to suddenly change everything the way it would have back in more conservative times.


But enough waffling: what was the big day like? Well, the main thing I noticed was that it was over so, so quickly. After all the months and months of planning things, booking things, preparing things, I was left reeling at the end of the day thinking “Was that it?”. That’s partly because our ceremony was so short (not being religious, we went for a humanist-ish one, and didn’t have any long readings or anything like that), but even the other parts of the day seemed to be over in a flash.

That’s not to say it wasn’t enjoyable, though. The venues excelled themselves and everything was perfect, just the way we wanted it. The ceremony itself, for all its shortness, was quite moving and about halfway through I found myself wishing I’d had the foresight to put some tissues in my sporran. (Judging from the loud sniffing noises emanating from the rows of people behind me, I wasn’t the only one). I didn’t even mind being the centre of attention as much as I thought I would. I think the adrenaline and the sheer joyousness of the occasion was carrying me through, so that I was still able to give smiles and hugs to the guests long past the point where I would normally have slipped into sour-faced, monosyllabic mode and wanted to go lie in a darkened room.


One of the highlights was the fantastic best man’s speech that Alex wrote. Here’s an excerpt:

“I think who [gcat] is, really, is a very caring and non-judgemental person… and a bit of a nerd. And for me, that word has no negative connotations whatsoever. He’s not one of those trendy new nerds who are basically normal people who like superhero movies. He’s a proper, old-school nerd who gets absolutely obsessed with the most obscure subjects, regardless of whether anyone else is into them or not”.

I’m pretty happy with that summing up of myself, though he did then go on to make me sound completely insane by following it with a list of several of my obscure obsessions from over the decades, including some that I’d almost forgotten about myself. (I gave a short speech myself just beforehand, but that mostly consisted of puns referencing the fact that we got married on a canal boat).

Another thing that struck me was that the whole process of getting married wasn’t all as romantic as you might think. A lot of the time is taken up with practical and logistical stuff: making sure the cats’ litter trays have been cleaned out before you leave the house for the night, spending what seems like an eternity in a kilt hire shop watching your fiance’s uncle winding up the staff, and so on.

The Mini Moon

Due to June being very busy for both of us, and the wedding itself being quite expensive, we weren’t sure if we’d have the time or money to go on honeymoon straight afterwards. So we decided to compromise and go on a little trip up north the week after the wedding, possibly going for a more traditional holiday somewhere hot a few months later, once our savings had had time to replenish a bit.

Strangely, whenever I’m packing for a trip where I’m going to be “doing nothing” (and I certainly intended this to be one of those) I end up taking far more stuff with me than I do for trips where I know I’ll be working, or doing a lot of sightseeing, or whatever. I think I just worry that I’m going to get bored, and feel the need to take a large selection of books, DS games, etc.


As it turned out, we couldn’t have asked for a better holiday home, or better weather. We stayed in a cottage in the midddle of nowhere (well, technically it was next to one of the main roads through the Highlands, but main roads through the Highlands can still be quieter than our residential backwater in Edinburgh, so we weren’t disturbed much by the traffic). Although it had a few interesting features – cold taps that sometimes ran hot, a staircase so steep that a sign on the wall warned that it was best to use it as if it was a ladder – that was all far outweighed by the lovely location and great facilities.

And the hot tub.


We spent a lot of time in the hot tub, and a lot of time lying in the garden in the sun afterwards. I made a valiant attempt at clearing the huge backlog of transport-related books that I’d been meaning to read, but it was no use – due to buying yet more of them in Kingussie and Aviemore, the backlog ominously grew even bigger.

Although we’d generously been given a huge selection of presents from our not-very-traditional wedding list on Amazon (which included plenty of board games and other fun stuff in among the more normal household items), we’d also been given quite a bit of money and gift vouchers, and we took advantage of the cottage’s surprisingly good wifi to spend some of that.

In addition to buying some sensible items, we also blew some of the money on hoes 😉 .


Our main outing on the mini-moon was a day out on the Strathspey Railway, which runs regular steam trains from Aviemore up to Broomhill, stopping at Boat of Garten on the way. In addition to the lovely views of the Cairngorms there was some interesting old railway equipment in various states of repair to look at as we puffed our way along the valley. We had lunch in the restaurant car on the way. Doing things like that always feels classy to me, as if I’m in Murder on the Orient Express… or better still, on the Excess Express from Paper Mario: the Thousand Year Door.



Sonic Triangle: Back from the dead!

Well… I have to admit, when I first opened this blog with a post about my band, Sonic Triangle, I didn’t expect it to be nearly five years before we released anything new. Five years!! How the hell did that happen? :O

But better late than never, as they say. (I sometimes think I should adopt that saying as my motto, as it applies to so many things in my life). We finally released a song! Two songs, in fact. One’s called Mercury, and it has a video as well! The other is called Homesick, and it doesn’t have a video. (Actually, it sort of does, but I doubt that that video will ever see the light of day, so we’ll just pretend it doesn’t). We’re pretty happy with both of them, and I hope you enjoy them too.

As to why it’s taken five years, I’m not actually sure. It’s not as if we haven’t been doing stuff… Alex sent round the first demo of Homesick way back in spring 2011, and we’ve actually been working on it (and about seven or eight other tracks, some of which we might finish and release at some point) on-and-off pretty much ever since then. We’ve just all been quite busy with other things, and haven’t got to the point of having anything we feel happy enough with to release until now.

A shot from the Mercury video, featuring our very talented singer.

A shot from the Mercury video, featuring our very talented singer.

Our process of recording hasn’t changed a great deal since I first wrote about it. Most of the instruments are still played on my Casio keyboard, though when I moved house a few years ago I brought the Technics electric piano that I inherited from my uncle out of storage, so the piano parts are now played on that, which is a big improvement. We did some recording with the glockenspiel, but it doesn’t feature on either of the new tracks. I think the way Alex creates the MIDI demos and edits the final versions has changed a bit, but I don’t know the details. I just play my keyboard and piano, then Alex goes away with the sound files and a few hours later a marvellous mix appears that leaves me thinking “Did I really play all that?”.

We’ve now dragged ourselves into the 21st century and created a Facebook page, supplementing our rather minimalist website. I think we always had a Twitter account, it just hasn’t been used much.

(In other music news, I’m looking forward to seeing Belle and Sebastian live next month… they’ve been on my list of bands to go and see for even longer than it’s taken us to finish Homesick 😉 ).

New car

I decided it was about time to upgrade my ageing Skoda Fabia to something better. The Fabia’s been a good car mostly, certainly better than the Fiat Punto I had before, but it was getting to the age where it was accumulating niggling problems at an ever increasing rate: one of the back doors had got jammed shut (again) which, aside from being annoying in itself, would have needed fixed before the MoT; the body was no longer watertight and I would frequently find the carpets saturated with water or the inside of the windscreen soaking wet after a rainy night; the screen wash tank had started to leak and there was possibly a slow coolant leak as well as I’d had to top it up a few times in the past year or two; the engine was sounding more and more reluctant to start and I was worried that some day it would no longer start at all; the handbrake seemed to fail every year and need expensive repairs no matter how gentle I tried to be with it. Worst of all, the stereo I installed had broken and I was stuck with an old one with no aux input to connect my phone to!

The engine itself still seemed to work OK (it had been pretty reliable, only needing a few replacement ignition coils over the years) but had racked up over 110,000 miles which is a fair amount for a small petrol. So, with the wedding budget finally under control, it was time to look at new cars.

I didn’t expect to buy one so quickly. But on our very first afternoon of browsing car supermarkets, this grabbed my attention:


I’d been wanting to upgrade to something much more fuel efficient, and this eco model Seat Ibiza seemed to fit the bill nicely. Its carbon dioxide emissions per kilometre are so low that it’s exempt from road tax (even better than Laura’s £30 road tax Leon), and whilst I wasn’t naive enough to expect it to actually manage the quoted 80 miles per gallon on realistic journeys, it would certainly be a lot more economical to run than anything I’d owned previously. It also met my other requirements – 5 door, no smaller than the Skoda… and of course an aux socket on the stereo! Plus it’s a much nicer colour than my old beige car, which probably swayed me a bit.

I arranged to buy it the same day, after a quick test drive to make sure the 3 cylinder 1.2 litre engine (very small for a diesel) wouldn’t feel too underpowered. It was fine – while it’s not going to win any awards for acceleration, it actually feels quite a lot more powerful than either of my previous cars, so I was happy with that. I also checked the crash safety ratings after reading that one of the reasons this model is so efficient is that it’s unusually light – but thankfully, it has very good Euro NCAP ratings, so there’s obviously more to crash safety than just the weight.

(I won’t bore you with the details of the long saga of waiting for the small dent in the bonnet to be repaired that ensued after that. Ordinarily I would have been pretty annoyed and frustrated to have to wait two weeks longer than planned to pick up my new car, but since I ended up being stuck in bed for most of those two weeks with a horrible dose of flu followed by a chest infection, I had other things on my mind. I also lost my voice for a while, which gave me a good excuse not to have to bother with all the interminable phone calls to the dealer and get Laura to deal with them instead 😉 . And at least they were nice enough to throw in a full tank of diesel and a packet of Mini Eggs as compensation for the delay).

Of course, the most interesting question for me was: what would the fuel consumption actually be like? I didn’t expect to get 80mpg (except possibly when driving downhill at a constant speed of 45mph in top gear with a strong wind behind me for miles and miles) but I was hoping it would at least be impressive compared to my own car. I wasn’t disappointed.

I’ve had the car a few weeks now and have been keeping a close eye on the miles per gallon indicator on the trip computer*. On journeys in town, with a lot of stopping and starting and waiting at traffic lights, the mpg still usually gets into the high 40s (the Skoda would have been at about 30mpg on those trips). On medium length journeys with a mix of city streets and motorway/dual carriageway type roads, it manages well over 60mpg – in fact, nearly 70 on my journey to work this morning. Pretty good for a standard non-hybrid, reasonably sized car.

The trip computer shows a miles-per-gallon value that the Skoda's one could only dream of. If trip computers can dream, that is. They're probably not that advanced yet.

The trip computer shows a miles-per-gallon value that the Skoda’s one could only dream of. If trip computers can dream, that is. They’re probably not that advanced yet.

One of the fuel saving features, though, is slightly disconcerting. If at any point you put it in neutral with the handbrake on and take your foot off the clutch, the engine turns off to save fuel. The first time this happened I thought it had stalled and was about to hastily try to restart it before the lights turned green, but as soon as I put my foot back on the clutch the engine came back on very quickly. At first I shied away from letting it do this, scared that the engine wouldn’t come back on and I’d be stranded in the middle of the road, but after experimenting with it a bit I got less cautious. I use it all the time now when I’m going to be stationary for more than half a minute or so, and the engine always restarts quicker than I can even put it back in gear. Sometimes it restarts itself before I put the clutch in – I assume this is to make sure the battery doesn’t get drained too much.

(I think memories of my mum’s long drawn out attempts to start her ageing Fiat Uno on damp days probably contributed to my anxiety that the engine wouldn’t restart! Actually I had similar worries when I first got a gas boiler without a pilot light, that it wouldn’t be able to light the burner reliably. One of these days I’ll convince my brain that this is the 21st century and being able to start a diesel engine or light a gas burner automatically is really a solved problem now).

The most important improvement over the Skoda! Seen here with tasteful purple cable attached.

The most important improvement over the Skoda! Seen here with tasteful purple cable attached. (Sidenote: it turns out that Windows really doesn’t like it if you try to call a file ‘aux.jpg’!)

One thing though: no Haynes manual for this model! I guess that’s no big deal as I never ended up doing as much work myself on my previous cars as I’d planned to do (just replacing the spark plugs and coils, changing the oil, and fixing the heater blower) but I’ve always had a Haynes manual… I feel lost and disorientated looking under the bonnet without one. Much as I like some of the other books that Haynes have branched out into, it seems they’ve dropped the ball a bit on their core business of keeping up with new car models, sadly (I noticed they don’t do one for Laura’s car either).

* yes, I know trip computers tend to overestimate the miles per gallon, so it’s probably not really quite as good as it looks from those numbers, but it’s still by far the easiest way of seeing roughly how much fuel you’re using on each individual journey.


Uppsala and Stockholm (again)

I was in Sweden last week. I seem to have been there a lot lately; that was my third work trip there and I’ll have my third midsummer trip in a couple of months as well.


Although I usually like to explore new places while I’m away, I was more in the mood for just chilling out and doing nothing this time, what with life getting very busy back home with work, Beltane and wedding stuff all at once. So I decided after the meeting I would book myself into my favourite hostel in Stockholm for a couple of days and spend them doing nothing at all. (Sometimes I find it easier to relax and unwind away from all the distractions and half-ticked-off To Do lists at home). The work part of the trip felt familiar as well, as I was staying in the same hotel and having a meeting in the same venue as I did two years ago.

At first it looked as if I was going to have to be at least a bit adventurous after all: when I first looked at accommodation options, my normal hostel was fully booked for the nights I wanted. But there must have been some cancellations as when I went back to actually book, they had two beds available. I booked one quickly before they changed their minds again. Although some of the other hostels looked alright, I knew that this one had a good lounge for relaxing in, whereas some of the others apparently didn’t have much common space, or didn’t allow alcohol in it. Plus City Backpackers is supposedly the best hostel in Sweden so I felt that going elsewhere after staying there twice probably would have been a bit of a come-down.

The Journey

I booked onto a nice quick direct flight to Stockholm Arlanda. As luck would have it, not just one but two things came along later and annoyingly clashed with my chosen flight: firstly, an all staff meeting at work. I wouldn’t normally be too upset about missing a meeting, but this was an interesting one as there’s a lot going on right now (reorganisations, pending move to a new building). Ah well. I’ll read the minutes later.

And secondly, the London Transport Museum announced that they were releasing tickets for their next wave of tours of abandoned tube stations and hidden tunnels, which I really wanted to go on (I like that sort of thing, you see) but which I was sure would sell out insanely quickly. The time that this would go live? 10am Tuesday, exactly the time I was boarding my plane. Grrr. Why did they have to pick the ONE day in several months that I wasn’t able to be in front of a computer at 10am?

(Laura kindly volunteered to try and get me tickets instead. Despite a surge of demand reminiscent of the Raspberry Pi launch 4 years ago, she succeeded in getting us tickets for the Down Street tour, the one I most wanted, and apparently the most sought-after one by far. So that’s something to look forward to, although it’s not til December. It’s expensive, but what the hell, you have to treat yourself sometimes. I have to admit I find it slightly amusing that the last people to be caught sneaking into a disused tunnel in London were apparently fined less money than I’ve just paid for a legitimate underground tour).

Anyway. On the plus side, it was a lovely clear morning for a flight (a rare treat when flying from Edinburgh), and the plane was amazingly empty (a rare treat when using a budget airline), which is always nice. I had a whole three seats to myself and was able to enjoy the view of West Lothian spread out below me like a map (though not get any decent photos of it, since the window was very dirty and a jet engine was blocking a lot of it). I was also able to see miles and miles of stationery traffic on all the local motorways, even though it was way past rush hour time… apparently it’s been chaos due to accidents this morning, though thankfully I avoided most of the chaos on my way to the airport. I wonder if the plane was empty because all the other would-be occupants were stuck in the jams down there.


We made it to Uppsala, where our meeting’s being held, pretty easily (though it seemed slightly bizarre that we had to enter our names into the ticket machine when buying tickets for a less than 20 minute train journey! It also seems slightly bizarre that, in contrast to the blandly corporate or edgily cool jingles they use to precede the announcements in most airports and stations, the one at Arlanda sounds like Grandpa Flump playing two quavering notes on his flumpet). Uppsala is actually the fourth largest city in Sweden, but it really doesn’t feel much like a big city at all to me… though it only has about a third of the population of Edinburgh, so I suppose it is small compared to what I’m used to. The hotel was nicer than I remembered, and it turns out it has fast Eduroam access in the rooms which is great for me – when Eduroam’s available it usually seems way faster and more reliable than whatever random public networks you can find. So I didn’t have to attempt any accidental dodgy hacker tricks in order to get online this time. Ahem.


I noticed the disgusting old white sock and the miniature Jaegermeister bottle on the lower storey roof outside my window straight away, but it was a bit longer before I noticed the (bare foot!) foot prints in a chaotic pattern on the other half of the roof. There surely has to be a story behind those…

The Meeting

We were treated to some lovely Swedish weather (clear and sunny, though still cold) as we walked down to the meeting venue, on the Uppsala University campus. The walk was a picturesque and relaxing one, along the river with its pretty bridges and boats (although it’s not quite so relaxing if you do what one of my colleagues and I did the first time we came here and walk right down the wrong side of the river, assuming there’ll be another bridge further down, then find there isn’t). I always think the campus itself looks more like a woodland summer camp than one of the top universities of northern Europe (in case it’s not clear, I do mean that as a compliment!). Apparently it was originally built as some kind of army base, so it makes sense that the layout is a bit unusual for a university.

The meeting itself was an interesting one, and since I’d actually got a decent night’s sleep for a change, I didn’t even come close to falling asleep at any point during the proceedings. It seems to do my brain good being away for a bit, because I always seem to come up with lots of new ideas for all my projects when I’m travelling. I made sure to note them down for later.


Our dinner was in an old station building. It was in slightly better condition than the old stations I normally find myself in.

The Holiday

After the day and a half of meeting, it was off to Stockholm for my little holiday. The train was on time and very nice, as they usually seem to be in European countries other than Britain, and after finally excusing myself from a crazy old woman on the platform who seemed determined to talk to me in Swedish and completely unconcerned by the fact that I couldn’t understand a word, I was on my way.

Coming back to somewhere I’ve visited before sometimes does strange things to my perception of time; I remember on my second visit to Madrid it felt like ages since I’d been there before, when in reality it was only just over two months, but coming back to Stockholm after 18 months, I didn’t feel as if much time had passed at all. The hostel “upgraded” me from the eight bed dormitory I’d booked to a 6 bed “apartment”. They were using the apartments as extra dorms, probably because they were so busy, so I still had to share with other people. But it did mean we had our own private loo, shower, small kitchen, and even a sauna (which I didn’t dare to use as I didn’t have a clue how to work the thing, though one of my room mates did manage to get it working).

I slept better than I normally do in a hostel room. I hadn’t had any plans for Friday at all, but when I discovered my pyjama top was missing, and confirmed via email that it was still at my hotel in Uppsala, I decided I was going to go and get it back. (I’ve no idea how I managed to do this; I’m normally ultra-careful not to leave anything behind when I stay in a hotel, to the point of even checking inside cupboards that I know perfectly well I’ve never opened before I leave). I probably wouldn’t have bothered as it would have been cheaper just to buy a new one than to pay for the extra return train ticket, but I felt bad as it was a present from Laura. Anyway, I didn’t really mind relaxing on the train for a couple of hours. There are worse ways to spend a morning.

I spent most of the time just relaxing, either in the hostel lounge or in a nearby bar, and was glad that I’d ripped my mother’s Reginald Perrin DVDs to my laptop to keep me entertained. It was what I felt I needed. Of course, I’d done most of the important stuff around the hostel on my previous visits here anyway – for example, photographing the local tunnel:


And the local unfortunately-named cafe:


My second day in Stockholm was slightly more energetic, though I still found the time for plenty of Reggie Perrin as well. I went for my first run since the horrible flu/chest infection/laryngitis that I was suffering from last month. Although I’d worked up to being able to run for 40 minutes non-stop before the illness, I didn’t want to do anything that strenuous after over a month’s break, so I did a gentle 20 minutes (with short pause to remove gravel from my trainer). It went surprisingly well and didn’t even cause me to have a coughing fit, so I was happy. I also went for a wander along the sea front, far enough to see Langholmen (a nice, mostly rural-feeling wooded island that’s surprisingly close to the city centre), but I was too tired to cross over to it this time.

The Return

My return flight left at 7:55, so I had to be up before 5am to get the bus. (It was the only direct flight of the day, so it was that or waste about 5 hours getting home). As always seems to happen when I need to be up early, my hostel roommates, who’d been perfectly well behaved throughout my whole stay, decided to pick the final night to make a lot of noise and keep me awake. All I can say is I hope they enjoyed the sound of my 4:45 alarm… I certainly didn’t.

The flight was the first time I’ve ever used wifi on a plane. I remember when the internet was only in the uni computer labs, or at home via excruciatingly slow dial up modem. Now, the number of places that you can escape from it is ever-diminishing: planes have wifi; my last two phones have been waterproof so being in the bath or shower is no excuse; hell, even one of the abandoned railway tunnels I explored had a perfect 4G signal (though admittedly that’s probably just an accident of microwave propagation rather than any deliberate desire on the part of Glasgow City Council to let urban explorers broadcast their crew shots more easily).

I came home feeling happier and more relaxed than I had done in weeks, thanks to the couple of days of doing nothing at all other than what I felt like. I decided I should book my next unwinding trip straight away (well, after next payday) so I have it to look forward to.

A little light relief

This blog’s been getting a bit intense lately… a lot of the last few entries have been long rants in response to things that have annoyed me.That’s fair enough, one of the reasons I started the blog was so I’d have somewhere to post those, but it was also to give me somewhere to write about more light-hearted and fun stuff that interests me. So here’s a post about my walk today. Look, this one even has pictures!

View from Almond Aqueduct

I couldn’t decide what to do with myself today. Laura’s out at her hen do (much more of an event than my “stag do” was, it would seem!) and Alex is through in Glasgow editing, so I couldn’t do anything with them. I’ve been exhausted all week and I’m away in Sweden most of next week so I didn’t want to overdo things, but at the same time I felt like getting outside and taking some photos, something I haven’t done enough of lately. In fact I sort of felt like doing an explore, only I wasn’t in the mood to drive far or to risk a confrontation if things went wrong, which ruled out most of the sites on my list.

Then I remembered about this walk I’d been meaning to do again for a while, from the Almond Aqueduct on the Union Canal, down the river to the next couple of bridges. Alex, Gavin and I did it about five years ago (I’m not sure why, I think we were just bored and looking for something to do) and I enjoyed it a lot. It felt surprisingly adventurous considering how close to home it was – although that was before I started clambering into derelict hospital buildings and railway tunnels for fun, so my threshold for what constitutes “adventurous” has probably gone up somewhat in the meantime. But anyway. I decided it would be worth trying it again. I might get some better shots of the bridges now I had an SLR, at least.

Canal Feeder

After stress testing my new car’s suspension on the impressive collection of potholes on the access road, I reached the start of my walk: the Almond Aqueduct. Back when I first got interested in bridges and canals and stuff, this used to be my favourite bridge. Although the Avon Aqueduct on the other side of West Lothian is much bigger and more impressive, there’s something very nice about the setting of the Almond one, and it’s also impressive in its own right (though annoyingly hard to get good photos of, I discovered!).

Almond Aqueduct top

As I went down underneath to cross to the north side of the canal where the towpath is, I noticed that the access gate into the interior of the structure was open. I probably would have had a peek inside if I could, but it’s pretty high off the ground so I wouldn’t be able to get in there without some sort of equipment. This video, on one of the best YouTube channels ever, gives a pretty good impression of what it’s like in there.

Almond Aqueduct Access Gate

At the far side of the aqueduct, I turned off into the trees, along a rough track which may or may not actually be a path. (One of the nice things about Scotland is that thanks to the right to roam, you don’t need to worry too much about whether something is or isn’t a path – as long as you don’t damage anything or walk into a live military or transport site, you can pretty much go wherever you want). The first part of the walk was a gentle, quite picturesque stroll through the trees, with the river down a steep bank to my right.

Woodland stream

The last time we were here, I actually saw a deer cross the path ahead of us and then swim across the river. Unfortunately I couldn’t get my phone camera ready in time, but it was amazing even just to see it – I normally think of deer as being something you get up in the Highlands rather than something you can see while walking through a narrow strip of woodland only a few miles from home. I didn’t think I’d be so lucky a second time, and indeed I wasn’t. I did see quite a large bird of prey, but it had disappeared into the woods before I even had time to get my lens cap off.

(Speaking of last time, I’m sure we also had an orange helium balloon with us when we did this walk before. I think Gavin had insisted on stopping for ice cream at the Newbridge McDonalds on the way and had somehow acquired it in there. As you can probably guess, it didn’t survive the walk).

Mill lade entrance

The path got narrower, more hilly and more muddy as I walked further from the canal. I seemed more difficult going than I’d remembered, but maybe that’s just because I was on my own this time. About halfway along was a feature I remembered: an old mill lade, now so full of earth and vegetation that the water wasn’t high enough to get into it anymore. Next to it was a very rough, but still clearly manmade, weir in the river itself. I was curious about this so I checked an old map when I got home… the lade used to run for quite a distance, powering a mill called Bird’s Mill, roughly where the viaduct of that name stands today (more on that later).

Old Mill Lade

Part of the lade, though, has been obliterated by construction of the M8, which crosses the river on a high concrete bridge. The area around this bridge always feels curiously desolate to me, I guess because it’s quite difficult to get to, and the quiet and stillness down below contrasts nicely with the traffic constantly thundering over the top. Thousands of vehicles a day pass overhead, but I wonder how many people have stood underneath since I was last here five years ago?

Under the M8

There’s only one bit of graffiti on the bridge (that I noticed, anyway), and it hasn’t changed in the five years since I was last here. I remember we found it strangely unnerving. There is a lot of rubbish either side of the bridge, but none at all actually underneath, indicating that it’s all been thrown down from the road above rather than dropped by anyone on foot.


Just beyond the M8 bridge is an older, slightly nicer looking bridge: the Bird’s Mill Viaduct. Until recently this carried a fairly minor single track branch line from the main Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway to Bathgate; but in late 2010, the previously-closed line was reopened from Bathgate to Airdrie, and the whole route was electrified and double tracked at the same time, creating a new line between Edinburgh and Glasgow, so frequent electric trains now pass over the viaduct.

Birds Mill Viaduct

It was annoyingly difficult to get decent photos of the viaduct due to all the surrounding trees. This was about the best I could do.

At this point I retraced my steps back to the car, not wanting to overdo things. As I picked my way slowly up a slightly precarious slope, with the river quite a way down a steep bank to my left, it struck me that this walk is probably actually more dangerous than some of the urban explores I’ve done (you’d have to try quite hard to come to any significant harm in Kelvindale Tunnel, for example), Yet if you tell people you’re going for a walk by the river they go “Ooh, that’s nice”, but if you tell them you’re going in an abandoned rail tunnel they look horrified!

I enjoyed my day out and I’m glad I decided to do this walk again. I didn’t get as good photos as I’d hoped, though; too many trees in the way of the bridges. This was the best shot I could get of the Almond Aqueduct from my path.

Almond Aqueduct

On the way home, I stopped off to do something I’d been meaning to do for a while: namely, take photos of the new Edinburgh Gateway station that’s currently under construction at Gogar. (My interest in railways is starting to get out of control now. Yesterday I spent a whole 20 minutes watching a YouTube documentary about the Intercity 125 on our new Chromecast – this one, if you’re interested).

Edinburgh Gateway Station

The works currently underway to build an underpass so that people can safely cross the road to get to the station made it nearly impossible for me to safely cross the road to get to the station.