Aberdeenshire & London

 

 

P.S.  Although on my camera, I’m pretty sure the London picture was taken by my good friend, J.H.  (You know who you are.)

 

While we’re on the subject…

I’m living in town at the moment because of burst pipes (and any dasterdlies out there reading my blog, know that I have ninja neighbours and zombie mice who will get you if you even set a toe on our property) and I thought that since I was in town I’d take the bus to work to save on petrol. Did you know that First Bus* headquarters are in my city?  And do you know how much FirstBus charges for a return ticket for the six bus stops I take and 4 miles it travels between those stops? £4.00.  Which, for those of you who don’t know, is nothing less than highway robbery.

So I drive to work because it’s cheaper than taking the bus**.

 

*Note to all non UK residents: First bus is the MacDonalds of local bus-route companies over here.  That is, they’re ubiquitous…and in this city they are a monopoly.

**I don’t have a bike in town.  I used to cycle when I lived in Glasgow.  I promise.

 

The price of gas.

Nope.  Not a paper on the morality of a petroleum-based economy…Just whinging.

£1.26.  (That’s about $2.00CAN)

The price I paid per litre of gas I put in my car, yesterday.  And that’s at the cheaper petrol station in town.

*Sigh*  What’s the point of having an oil field 50 miles from city if it doesn’t do you any good at the pumps?

What’s that?

Hubby’s just reminded me that at this juncture in our lives the main reason we have money to purchase said gas…and build a house…and take vacations…and pay for IVF… is because of the oil fields.

So what that means is that my eco-friendly strawbale home is being paid for by oil money, as are my babies.

 

Ardoe House Hotel

Because spending time with the family was off the books this year, and because the weather was so very cold, and because we didn’t want to spend Christmas huddled around the plug-in heater in the trailer, hubby and I decided we’d treat ourselves and spend Christmas in one of Aberdeen’s finer hotels.  Yes, one of the finer hotels…that also had a good Christmas deal on, because we’re cheap frugal that way.  And that’s how we ended up at the fairytale castle that is the Ardoe House Hotel.

Well…in a room in a wing off the back of the Ardoe House.

But the exercise was good for working off the Christmas chocolate that people had been bringing in to work and that I had been stuffing myself with because I have no self-control.  And the room was quiet.  And it had a bathtub.  I had four baths in three days.  I don’t feel guilty about this at all.  I didn’t even go down to the hot tub or the sauna because I was so very happy with the deep, wonderful, sparkley-clean tub in my room.  It was the perfect depth and the the perfect length: meaning I could wedge myself in to it and fall asleep and not worry about possibly drowning.  It’s also been a very, very, very long time since I’ve seen Nightmare on Elm Street, so I no longer worry about Freddy Krueger dragging me under, either.

Sadly, hubby was hit with the flu (the real flu that makes you fee like your bones are being ground into dust) and so didn’t enjoy his stay very much at all.   This didn’t stop me, however.  Making sure hubby had a never-ending supply of hot honey and lemon next to him, I was able to spend my time reading by the fire in the sitting room (when I wasn’t in the tub) and nibbling from the large table of fruits, nuts, and chocolates that had been set out for the Christmas season.  Again: bliss.

Oh, and come Christmas day, who was to be found resting in the hotel, but one shiny-nosed friend of old…

 

Gordon Highlanders at Castle Crathes and a Dog…

…or, Why I Love this Country.

 

Aberdeen Harbour

 

Aberdeen

I live in Aberdeenshire and work in Aberdeen.  When people ask me where I live — people not living in the North East of Scotland, that is — I answer them, “Aberdeen.”  When my husband hears this he says, “no you don’t, you live in Aberdeenshire.”  I think he’s being nit-picky.  He thinks he’s being accurate. I think people not having lived in Aberdeen or the Shire think it’s the back-of-beyond so it makes no difference what you tell them.  Kind of like when people ask me where I’m from I’ve learned to reply with, “how well do you know Canada?”  The answer tends to be “not very well,” so I ask , “do you know where Toronto is?”   With a glazed look in their eye that tells me they know Toronto is in Canada…somewhere…, they say, “yes”.  And my reply tends to be, “not from there.” (This usually gets a half-hearted laugh.)

But I digress.

I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with Aberdeen.  It is a grey-granite city that sparkles in the sun.   The main street is a 1 1/2 mile boulevard that is as straight as an arrow and is lined with shops, side-streets, and one very old graveyard.  At the foot of this boulevard is a large square paved in  asymmetrical blocks of granite, with a tiny, elegant pavilion just a bit off-centre.  In the summer, towering, tiered flowerpots dot the streets with colour.  A sand-beach, miles long, is a short walk from the city-centre.

Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?

Now what if I tell you that it is also a grey, granite city?  When the haar rolls in or the sky is cloudy (which is not often, I admit), there is only grey sky, grey road, and grey buildings with a look of grime to them. The shops lining the main boulevard are chain-stores interspersed with the odd empty store-front, the pavilion is covered in graffiti and years of dirt.  The square is never, ever utilised by the city: no markets there, no concerts, no plays.  There are still towering, tiered flowerpots full of colour. The city councillors make sure of that, at least.

Perhaps I am naive, but I feel it would only take a council with some vision to turn the city into something wonderful.  The potential is there to make Aberdeen vibrant.  And there are jewels in this city, there are.  The churches are stunning.  The beach is extraordinary, especially when the clouds roil in.  There is a vibrant student population, many independent shops dotted around, an independent music and art scene, and some really great restaurants.  If only it could all be brought together.

Theme song: Sarah Harmer – Uniform Grey