'Arf Asleep

Whilst Facebook and other social networking media were full of people's tales of woe at having to drag themselves away from gluttony, alcoholic excess and coma inducing TV, that joy was spared me until today.

But as always, it's more about the good stuff and not the bad; I loved the cycle ride in this morning, even broke the speed limit on the way home if Strava is to be believed; and finished painting my Barns-Graham looky likey thing for the living room wall.
Yeah, so I had to be nice to the boss, ask civil questions about his festive activities, give non descript tales of my Christmas experience, answer the phone (one of the joys of home working is not having the constant fear of pointless conversations. At home I can drink tea when I finish a job, listen to what music I want.

But lunchtime was the key bit. Abandoned by my long time lunch partner who was off today, I hooked up with sometime mountaineering companion Al and we agreed to hit the top of Arthur's Seat in our lunch hour.

A sunny day, slight breeze out of the west, it's pretty much perfect weather for me; I love bright winter's day up high somewhere with a view. So, to be able to slip that into lunch is fantastic. We met in front of the Scotsman Steps, shook hands, wished each other a happy New Year and strode off with purpose up Jeffrey Street, chatting as we went.

Left onto the High Street and down, turning down one of the closes that brings you out by the BBC (where the photo was taken - Alan with his Haglofs jacket and Salomon trainers striding off with a jaunty stride), and then onto Holyrood Road, through the back of the parliament and across onto the park. Largely on the leeward side of the hill, we carried on round until we could see the hill ahead of us.
Steepening, the pace slowed, and the chat became one sided as Alan's energetic last few days caught up with him.

It's the first time I'd really been able to speak to him about recent events in my life, and its taken this long for me to be comfortable enough talking candidly, openly without trying to be bitter or sad, but at the same time I know he wants to know I'm all right... We got about half way up and he let me go on and compleat; so off I strode, tearing up to the top, barely a glance at the view; and straight back off.

Down, the stand out view is off to the east, North Berwick Law visible on the far horizon, across the grassy slopes, intersected by paths worn from years and years of the good burghers of Edinburgh taking advantage of their being a muckle great hill in the midst of the city.

It's a place I have much fondness for; the times I have been on early summer mornings, drunk, watching the day break, the trees providing cover for lustful, furtive activities, the road for cycling round - as good a training circuit as anyone would need, the reefers of youth, feeding ducks and swans on the ponds with my boys.
And now Arthur's Seat is elevated to my walk of choice for days I'm in the office. Not too shabby.

And 2nd place on Strava for my upward leg of the Seat! Hah!