On the Beat

Over Christmas I was reminded of a journey I made three or so years ago. At the time I was living in London and visiting Scotland; I drove from Torridon in the north west of Scotland to Skipness in the south west, a journey of over two hundred miles and several hours.

What made this trip particularly memorable was that, despite driving to (and around) Torridon from Edinburgh up the west coast several times, and making the trip to Skipness many times a year (though not always by the same route), this time I travelled along a stretch of road that I don't think I had ever driven along before.

Usually going up the west coast from Edinburgh, I'd either take the quicker, more direct route via Inverness and the A9, or the slow west coast route from Edinburgh via Tyndrum, Glencoe and Fort William - up the A82. From Edinburgh to Skipness, there is a similarly "direct" route up Loch Lomond and across Rest And Be Thankful, or a more relaxed, longer journey via Tyndrum, leaving the A82 and taking the A85 via Oban, and then onwards south to Lochgilphead and Tarbert.

The diligent (or knowledgeable) amongst you will notice these routes diverge at Tyndrum: south to along Lochaweside to Oban, or north through Glen Orchy to Glencoe.

Heading south from Fort William, these two routes can be joined by the A828 between Ballachulish Bridge and the Connel Bridge, driving beside Loch Linhe. I have driven north from Connel Bridge a couple of time to Loch Creran, to go walking, but never the whole section between Loch Creran and Ballachulish before.

Not too remarkable, perhaps - there must be many roads in Scotland I haven't along - but given my familiarity with the west coast, particularly around Glencoe and Oban, it surprised me when I realised. Only sixteen miles or so, but new.

* * *

The reason I was thinking about this is because it something similar happened - albeit on a much smaller scale - over Christmas. My brother lives (more or less) on a crescent just off a main road, the same house my mother had lived in since 1990, and my grandparents before that: a house I have known since the 1970s, I suppose. Turn left to go south into town, right to go north away from the centre.

But walking from the north into town on Christmas Eve, not stopping at my brother's house, I walked straight along the road into the centre.

And I realised that for perhaps 100m, I had never walked along that stretch of road - at least since 1982. (It is possible I walked along it when I was a student, going from one college to another.)

Just back from seeing Paddington. Very very enjoyable. Just about perfect from the very beginning. Brilliant. And very funny.

I don't think I can recommend it highly enough.

My drive to my brother's house, which normally takes six or seven hours, took eleven hours on Monday, thanks to a closure of the M6 for several hours.

For an hour before hitting the traffic, there were warning signs overhead telling me that there was an accident and the motorway was closed at junction 17. Unfortunately, the signs didn't say anything useful like "get off at J21 and take the A57..." The idea of traveling south on A roads, through towns and villages and roundabout after roundabout seemed pointless, adding as much time (and much more stress) than waiting for the traffic to clear. I did think about leaving the M6 and getting onto the A54, but so many cars were trying that that the hard shoulder was completely blocked for a mile or so, and the A54 would have been hell, too.

In three hours I moved perhaps two miles; passing Sandbach services at a crawl, I went in: I was bursting for the loo. (I had seriously contemplated jumping out of my stationary car and watering the hard shoulder; only the certainty that this would lead to an immediate freeing of the traffic and my car blocking the road, with me unable to reach it, stopped me. And I covered using an empty water bottle, too. But then I came across the services, which seemed preferable.) Whilst in many ways a relief, I was then stuck in the services for an hour. The traffic trying to leave the services, into a lane of near-stationary cars, was itself stationary. Slower than a crawl, I left the service area.

It was fine, really. I wasn't going anywhere else, so I sat in my car listening to the radio. Thank God for Radio 4.

It was only later that I thought of other things I could have done, but hadn't. I didn't read the newspaper I had bought (the first for months). I didn't listen to anything on my iPod. (The idea of sitting in the car with headphones on seems bizarre. It is important to hear the subtle times of the engine and the gears. Though less important when the car is static.) I didn't read my book. I didn't play on the internet on my phone (though I did send a text to explain my delay, and felt guilty doing so, despite the completely stationary traffic and the hand brake being well and truly on).

I listened to the radio. I listened to CDs. I sat and thought. It was almost meditative.

Proverbs for Paranoids, #5: Paranoids are not paranoids because they’re paranoid, but because they keep putting themselves, fucking idiots, deliberately into paranoid situations. (Thomas Pynchon.)

I have just between to see Laura Poitras' film about Edward Snowden and the workings of the security services, particularly NSA and GCHQ.

Firstly, having followed the revelations in the Guardian last year, and heard Ewan Macaskill (one of the journalists involved in the leaks from an early stage) in October, I don't think the film held anything new.

Secondly, I thought it was a very good film. Given that the story is now public and we know what happened, it was grippingly paced and tense.

Thirdly, Snowden came across as completely genuine, not after glory for himself or out for personal gain. He should be given a medal rather than chased by the security services.

Fourthly, Glenn Greenwald (the main journalist involved, together with Poitras) doesn't. I can't put my finger on went I felt disquieted by him - perhaps because he did stand to gain from the revelations: he is now known around the world.

Lastly, it has left me feeling very paranoid. Nothing is private. Which is uncomfortable. One of the people interviewed laments how basic freedoms and civil liberties are now called "privacy", and how we don't seem to be complaining too much that they've between lost. Not a good place to be.

Secondly lastly, I have no idea why Snowden used the handle "CitizenFour". Who are Citizens One, Two and Three?

https://citizenfourfilm.com

I'm planning to go to the movies Friday. I've just checked to see what's on.

The Hobbit.

At five out of six cinemas I have checked, the only film they appear to be showing is the Hobbit. That's probably thirty five screens.

Is it just me that thinks this is slightly over the top? Isn't competition meant to to mean choice?

I guess I'll be going to the Filmhouse, then. At least they're showing "It's A Wonderful Life"...!

(It is possible that the other cinemas haven't yet finalised their programme for Friday. But this doesn't seem likely. Perhaps they are holding off until they've seen the bookings for the Hobbit.)