So long Dad...

Just over two weeks ago I visited Dad for the last time. He'd not really known me properly for almost 2 years due to dementia's desolation, so my visits in that time found him either deep asleep or quite agitated. But when I walked in that final time and greeted him, his response simply blew me away. He looked at me with complete recognition, like he had been waiting for me for a long time. His face was one of sheer joy, he smiled a smile I will remember forever, and then some load on him just seemed to melt right away. We sat for half an hour, just holding and stroking hands, an occasional attempt at more conversation wasn't needed or possible, as everything was already being said. He'd lost a significant amount of weight in recent weeks, yet there he sat, all skin and bone, ravaged by age and dementia but still my Dad. As I left I kissed his head and said my goodbye. He was asleep, looking very content and peaceful. It was an emotional and beautiful visit - one I will never forget.

11 days later, on the 18th June Dad passed away, aged 95. He had gone downhill since my last visit and, with not too far to fall, staff and family had agreed that morning he was in his last few days and I would travel down to be with him at the end. As I boarded my flight that evening the latest reports in his care notes state that he was contented and stable. As I got off the plane I got messages from the care home and my brother to say he was fading fast. So I raced off the flight, met my brother, and we hurtled across from Luton to Oxford in record time. We arrived at 23.50. He had passed at 23.45. No one saw that coming so quick - I guess he wanted it that way. No fuss. His dad went like that too.

A week later and I start to remember his life well-lived. His very humble beginnings where Spaghetti Junction now stands. His years of caring for Mum. His flirtatious and cheeky sense of humour. His ability to sniff out when something wasn't quite right. His fondness for dessert. His knowledge on many topics and his love of giving advice or fixing things. But most of all I'll miss him just being my Dad. Always there, always dependable. A fairly simple man. Not caring for a fuss but just liking a job done simply and well.

Thank you Dad for bringing me up in this world. For teaching me the value and joy in little, simple things. Thank you for the many smiles and happiness that you brought to me and many others. I'll miss you, but you're now with Mum again.

So here I am. The oldest generation. Not sure I'm quite ready but I've got Dads old rubber mallet, his Christmas tie, some wonderful memories, and I've hopefully still got a few years to learn.

Getting wet...

The late May bank holiday saw our first van trip of 2025 back to where I'd been peddling madly a few weeks earlier - Loch Tummel. T had found a lovely basic campsite right on the loch, and with the weather threatening to end its unprecedented good spell, we were going to make the most of it. So we arrived early, had a hasty sandwich then donned wetsuits, pumped up a borrowed kayak (thanks AP!), and waded in with body boards in tow. And what a day we had. The girls spent hours in the water, and I paddled round mainly with Emily. We landed on a little island to ourselves in the loch, and Emily also christened another Rooke Island. It was our very own Famous Five adventure - except there were 4 of us, no dog, no bikes and no lashings of ginger beer. Still we had a wonderful BBQ and I discovered what a s'more is...toasted marshmallow squashed between two chocolate digestives.

The next day was a black swan event, when we discovered that there was no internet signal anywhere - so we were forced to protect Emily's 'streaks' by walking up and along until we came to the café at Queens View. But in true Scottish style that didn't have wifi either, so there was more trekking up and along until we found a couple of bars of signal and equilibrium could be restored to the universe of TikTok and Snapchat once more. Crikey - I had no idea it was such a serious business. Anyway the good walk wasn't entirely spoiled and it was lovely being out in better than hoped weather. So much so that the girls all needed to jump into that loch again when they got back.

Day 3 was a hasty abandon ship as the weather started to turn but we spent a delightful morning walking the Birks of Aberfeldy, immortalised in Burn's poem of the same name. It was a stunning walk which was thankfully sheltered in the forest, followed by a delightful lunch in the town.

And then it rained. And has pretty much kept raining since. Apart from a well timed walk that T and I did over local hills in between showers the following weekend, whilst Niomi bravely paddled her very own kayak at her Guides water day. Bravo for her as she was dead nervous beforehand.

Now...where did summer go and where on earth is that sun?

The Water Girls

My paddling partner

Getting wet

Videoclip: Taking the plunge...

Or you watch the video clip here

S'more joy

Happiness is at the back of the bus

Searching for signal

The Queens View

The View of Queens

The Birks of Aberfeldy

Paddling Niomi

Videoclip: Paddling Niomi...

Or you can watch the video here

Caledonia...

May brings Scotland at its finest, as spring bursts into full bloom. Bluebells blanket ancient woodland floors, gorse and hawthorn pepper the hillsides, and fresh green leaves shimmer beneath clear blue skies. Birdsong fills the air, adding to the invigorating sense of renewal. Lochs mirror the skies, and quiet glens seem alive with energy. It’s a month where every moment outdoors feels enchanted — as if nature pauses just long enough for you to soak it all in.

And with that magical backdrop, my months of training for the Caledonia Etape came to an end on event day itself. The route is 136 km, with around 1,300 metres of ascent. It winds past Loch Tummel and Loch Rannoch, skirts around Schiehallion before climbing over its pass, and sweeps through the stunning glens of Perthshire alongside the River Tay.

At 6am we were at the start line in Pitlochry, among more than 2,000 riders, and around half an hour later we were waved off by cheering spectators. It was chilly in the early morning air, but within an hour - and after a hard 5 km climb - I was well warmed up. Scotland was looking bonny as I made my way, travelling far faster than I’d expected by tucking into mini-pelotons and holding on for dear life. 

By the time I hit the steep climb of Schiehallion, around the 70 km mark, I realised I was faring quite well. My stomach was cramping from all the sugar and carbs, but my muscles were grateful for the fuel, keeping me pedalling hard. 80km, 90km, 100km ticked by, and I started to believe I was going to smash my expectations.

I tucked in behind hardened old timers - they didn’t seem to mind, they were clearly used to riding solo. Spectators started to become more regular and bagpipers helped boost me along. With 20 km to go, I was soaring; feeling the pain yes, but determined not to let the pace slip. The final hills hurt like hell, but as I turned back onto Pitlochry High Street, just over 5 hours and 20 minutes after I set off, I felt completely elated.

It was brutal, epic, and utterly brilliant. I’d never cycled that far before, and certainly never expected to do it that fast - and all through Caledonia, looking splendid in its absolute Sunday best. At 52, I’m not too old to feel proud of myself. And the girls helped remind me of that when I returned to a lovely welcome the next day. So Caledonia, I'll be back...

Sun's oot...

Late spring/early summer is nearly always the best weather in Scotland, and this year we seem to be really lucking out. Its been sunny most days now for a few weeks which means we’ve been spending lots of time out of doors.

There’s been lots of BBQ’s, so I’ve been trialling the new BBQ-top pizza oven and T’s been trying out her new vegetarian BBQ recipe book. We’ve had countless kids round and some grown up big kids too. There’s been lots of frenetic activity in the garden, and we’ve even purchased a new parasol (sure sign rain must be due soon). And we’ve been out roaming about – a particular highlight was some new experiences near Loch Lomond, climbing up The Dumpling (Duncryne Hill) and visiting the RSPB reserve (which we’ll definitely revisit).

Anyway, for now at least, the sun’s oot, the wee birdies are singing, the flowers are blooming, and the world is full of new life. 

Makes the soul soar.

Up we go

The Dumpling

Smiles in the sun

Views not bad

Skipping through the bluebells

Loch Lomond

Paddling

Sunset in the garden

A day for the ducks…

Every duck must have it’s day. And the annual duck race on the Luggie was to be no exception.

Even with the forecast a bit fowl there was no ducking out of it, as spectators flocked to the banks to cheer those ducks on. It was no ordinary Easter Monday – this was a going to be a quackstravaganza in Waterside with kids activities, raffles and the highlight being the duck race itself.

And it was a quacking good race! The crowd went absolutely beak-onkers as the ducks floated past, with a feather-ruffling finish that had everyone on edge. But in the end the winner was 327 by a beak…

Ach it was a waddleful day… here’s hoping next year’s race is equally quack-tastic.

(Apologies – but I’m just winging it for content just now. Maybe I’m just mallard-justed 😂)

Videoclip: Duck Race

Or you can watch the video here

Planes, trains and automobiles....

And bikes, boats, trams, cars, canoes and feet...

And that’s how we rolled around the Netherlands. A true medley of transport.

Our primary reason to visit the flatlands was to see my niece and her husband (hoorah!), Chloe and Alex. Chloe just happened to be conducting a family concert of Cinderella (Assepoester) at The Concertgebouw in Amsterdam in the Easter holidays, so we needed little more excuse than that to plan a trip. And blessed with sunshine the whole week we had a simply marvellous time.

We had boat, bike and foot tours of Amsterdam. Much time was spent in the beautiful and bohemian city of Utrecht including a canal trip round the canals, and we had a stunning day at the world’s greatest Spring garden in Keukenhof. But mainly we just spent lovely time with Chloe and Alex, and with each other when they weren’t there. And I must say a massive thanks to C&A for being such amazing hosts, tour guides and all-round entertainters💗.

We also ate far too well, including sampling bitterballen, stroopwafel, broodjes, appeltaart and pannekoeken; as well as having some wonderful Indonesian, Vietnamese and Japanese cuisine. Utrecht is a really cool and gorgeous city. It's small enough to walk around the centre and admire all the independent shops and cafes, yet large enough to get lost whilst absorbing it's beauty, laid back feel and vibrant atmosphere. Highly recommend a visit if you’ve not been. 

And then the bike tour in Amsterdam left me simply flabbergasted at the power of the bike when streetscapes and regulations are properly thought through, and the gardens at Keukenhof was a sensory cornucopia. Above all everything in the Netherlands just really worked well. It was really clean, slightly quirky and innovative. There were many things I'd love to replicate back here.

So whilst I loved the whole trip, it was another reminder of the cracks that are really starting to appear in the UK’s offerings. In the last few years I’ve been to a number of different European destinations and each one has left a similar impression on me. Fundamentally our streets seem to be losing their diversity and vibrancy; they’re becoming less places for people to enjoy and thrive in, and our culture seems to be losing its focus on civilisation. I don’t propose to wax lyrical about the reasons I think this is happening, suffice to say though we’ve much to learn from Europe and need to turn our ship around before we fall further and further behind.

Planes

Trains

And concerts...

With the star, Chloe

Enjoying the guided tour on Amsterdams canals

Big and little kids

The crew at Kasteel de Haar

Reflections

Growing up

Canoe Crew

Fully immersed in the exciting tourist experience

Miffy (Nijntje) Museum!

Enjoying Miffy 😉

Keukenhof

Flowers

Apparently its true...

Utrecht

A bicycle made for two

Thank you Netherlands. We'd loved you...

Food, glorious food...

Food is more than just fuel – it’s a fundamental part of our identity, culture, and daily rituals. From the comfort of a home-cooked meal to the joy of sharing a feast with loved ones, food connects us in ways we often overlook. We interact with it every day, whether we're planning or shopping for meals, experimenting with new recipes, or simply enjoying some forbidden snacks. It’s always there, shaping our routines, fuelling our bodies, and offering moments of pleasure, connection, and even creativity.

Food is a big part of our lives, and last weekend I was very much reminded what a fundamental part it plays. First up I had a sneaky ‘day date’ with Tanya as we hot-footed to our old stomping ground in the West End of Glasgow. Apart from looking round old haunts we stopped for a sneaky patisserie before our final destination of 111 by Modou. We were on the Critics Choice menu – 5 undisclosed courses for £25, and we got to guess the ingredients and rate each of them. I have to say the service was wonderful; really relaxed, informative and friendly. Our guessing skills weren’t too bad either, and I reckon we were 80% right as we worked our way through the menu. The food was remarkable too – each dish having a slight twist that you wouldn’t have expected – and it was a total joy to be presented with dishes that you didn’t choose, particularly as we often all opt for similar things. Highly recommended.

That evening Tanya toddled off for her own Masterclass at a PTA event at Lenzie Academy. It was hosted by Scotland's own National Chef (I didn't even know we had one) and former winner of Masterchef: The Professionals, Gary Maclean. He's apparently a really down to earth, inspirational guy. Passionate about food and passionate about giving everyone access to really good food. He does loads of work championing all thats great about food, in particular Scottish food. Find out more about him here.

And the next day was equally food-tastic as I got to go on my xmas present of a course at Kirky’s own cookschool – The Ramekin and Rolling Pin. I’d plumped for Malaysian Street Food but I got more than the standard Nasi Goreng with a curry, salad, and a side to boot. It was a great experience and lovely to see people from all over visiting Kirky for what I’m sure was an experience enjoyed by all. Certainly the family loved my offerings that I bought home! And in none related food news I then experienced more of Kirky’s finest, taking Emily to see 2 plays at our tiny, local theatre. The theatrical offerings were the Kirky Players adult and youth entries into Scotland’s drama awards (which we often win), and both absolutely blew me away. Go Kirky!

And the final food offering was fuel for long distance cycling as I’m training for Etape Caledonia in May. Between chatgpt, Tanya and Niomi they’d whipped me up some high energy flapjacks which hit the spot. Thanks to them! Not only that, Tanya has also been very busy utilising her xmas cookbooks recently, and we’ve been treated to eating our way round Vietnam and many other countries from around the world.

So yes, food is fuel but its also exciting, creative and fun. Something we should all savour and indulge ourselves in far more; taking the time to appreciate its huge diversity in taste, and where it comes from both physically and culturally.

The winner of the Critics Choice!

A profiterole for starter?

In case you want to check it out

3 budding masterchefs

The recipe to Malaysian success

The Ramekin and Rolling Pin