Here’s a synopsis of what found us does from Tobermory, Isle of Mull, or Oban on the mainland.
Turning on the Tobermory Christmas Lights
Last night on Main Street, Tobermory, saw the turning on of the Christmas lights.
What a wonderful experience last night being part of the Isle of Mull community as we all saw the Christmas Tractor parade, children choir singing carols, the Tobermory Choir singing carols, Ukulele playing and singing of carols, a raffle, Banjo Beale judging shop fronts, then the countdown to the turning on of the lights.
Full photos and videos can be found at: https://www.flickr.com/gp/petercobley/0t5Cy5zpU1
Tobermory photos. found us. End of the week.
Vivid sunset one morning this week from the house about Tobermory
Sunday 1st December, end of the week, start of a new month and the run up to Christmas. I have had a productive week and one for the most part run on serenity.
I’ve mused over found us, my consultancy business, and am happy with work I have put into the website when consolidating what found us stands for, and for that matter me. It is a business that ultimately helps people, and is an exposition of my world view; give back what was freely given to you. And it is a shame a lot of people in advertising, marketing, and media don’t give back and possess a myopic world view that revolves around ego and self.
I think I demonstrate with found us that there is another way, that one is rich when one gives in business, in life. Monetary and material things naturally follow, but if one is not solely tied to the material world then they do not matter, and less attention is spent trying to screw people over.
Anyway, I think I’ll post some spectacular photos of Tob (how the locals refer to Tobermory), and why? Because the photos may make people think about making change. Claire and I make a major geographical change, that has helped drive change in self; whilst also dumping what I now realise were tenuous relationships with some not so nice people at the Saddleworth Runners.
A vivid sunrise and two photos of a frosty Tobermory, taken from Main Street
This week saw mixed weather to say the least. As fortune would have it the end of the week, Saturday evening, saw nice mild weather for the Tobermory turning on of the Christmas lights, which was wonderful. Read about it in the next post!
My God, its full of stars. I could not resist that with these two photos of Mull at night.
Swimming Thursday night at Aros Park, looking toward Tobermory
There is swimming and then there is swimming.
Looking back to Craignuire on the Oban ferry from Mull, and snow capped hills
“The pen is mighter than the sword”
The Plumb-pudding in danger, or, State Epicures taking un Petit Souper is an 1805 editorial cartoon by the English artist James Gillray. (Wikipedia)
The phrase “The Pen is mighter than the Sword” was first written in 1839 by Edward Bulwer-Lytton in his play Cardinal Richelieu.
A favourite of mine as I was schooled to love writing and literature. And this has been a constant in my life.
I also believe in words over violence and having spent my formative years growing up in a pub in Macclesfield saw drunken fights that put me off violence for ever more.
That said force can be a necessary if needs must, but as a Jurist at heart it has to be reasonable with foreseeable consequences in any situation. Maybe I’m being an idealist, but that’s how I feel.
Words allowed me to fight back against those who peddle lies and untruths, not to mention gossip, and in 2021 and 2022 I was affected by this, detrimentally to my health.
It is very easy for people to gossip behind one’s back. But don’t be disheartened as they are the ones dumbing themselves down, adhering to heard mentality, and not looking within. They are poor in strength of character and have to attack others to feel secure in themselves, when in fact they are the antithesis, being weak and poor of character and honesty.
And such people clearly cannot handle or take honest words said to them as to their behaviour, choosing first to sneak around like a gang of thieves in the night stealing from a person’s reputation to better their own. At what cost though?
I fought back with words in three clear pieces of prose. With honesty, jest and wordplays; utilising the Web - giving voice to my pain, expunging it, and not letting people off the hook who behaved demonstrably at odds with the public perception they give, and believe is their true selves. I disagreed and still disagree.
Firstly, the Saddleworth Runners.
Secondly individuals specifically, who acted poorly.
Thirdly, a piece about Social Media and of surviving your very person being eradicated by others, by de-friending. Petty, wilful, and on a par with Damnatio memoriae* -
I hope this post and the preceding other posts give courage to those who face bullies, false friends. People who sadly are self serving and seeking, and are not true friends. In fact quite horrible behaviour being exhibited by them; and I for my part have named mine, and shamed them for their actions; just maybe, just maybe, they garner the courage to sit in front of a mirror and think as to who, what, and where they are in their lives. And make changes. Like I’ve had to do, having been a poorly person.
Bibiography
The Big Read: The pen is mightier than the sword so political cartoons are needed more than ever - Herald Scotland
Is Western culture stopping people from growing up? Kidults are all around you - The Economist
*Damnatio Memoriae is a Latin practice or phrase that means "condemnation of memory". It means that a person's existence should be cut out of history. In practice it meant removing the name from official records and monuments.
Storm Bert and a cancelled ferry
I type as the clock moves toward 11.30pm on Sunday 24th November. And I type in Hamilton whereas the original plan was to be in Tobermory at this point in time.
Nessie hand warmer as discovered at Gretna services on the way back to Scotland yesterday
Not being back on the Isle of Mull was due to Bert’s behaviour. What with rain and snow, we now see Bert blowing and violently farting his way through Hamilton and clearly Oban, where we were due to get the 9pm ferry to Craignuire on the Isle of Mull; which was cancelled.
Doggie hand warmer
What a weekend of wild weather
Yours truly had a load of his gear in storage in Denton. This need collecting from the building, with this weekend being the last opportunity, as the people storing my gear were moving out.
So, we were heading down to England when Storm Bert was due to offload his filth across the county.
Friday evening saw the drive to Hamilton to Claire’s folks where we were to stay overnight. It was a pleasant drive from Oban, but the weather along the M6 over high ground was looking and sounding iffy to say the least.
The Boss made a decision that was correct in that we ate some food, booked into the Holiday Inn in Lancaster, and drove forthwith to the city; weather being fine for driving.
We had a nice sleep in a spacious and comfortable room in a hotel I had stayed at over 15 years ago when on business.
It was then off to Denton, and it was blowing a gale with rain in the hotel car park as we started off. This meant it was a veritable spray fest driving on the M6. By now Bert was shifting over mainland England.
We eventually got to Denton and loaded possessions, including touring bike, with the kind help of Brian Potter, a friend, and then hit the road.
M61 northbound fleeing Manchester and Bert
It rained and rained and rained. If Doctor Foster had been out on his rounds he’d have needed a canoe and life vest.
The decision to not head (we discovered) from Hamilton that Saturday morning as was the original plan, was a sane choice on behalf of Claire as there was snow dumped in Scotland, especially in Hamilton.
We made it back around 7.30/8pm to Hamilton, driving through clear and not clear patches, with thick mist for many miles before and after Lockerbie.
Entering Scotland at Gretna
On waking today, Sunday morning, we had planned to leave Hamilton at 5.30pm to arrive Oban 8pm for the 9pm ferry to Craignuire.
As the day progressed so did the wind, to the point of Bert being quite antisocial.
In Oban according to the Met Office the average wind was 30 mph and gusting to 60 mph. Not good. Not good at all.
And no surprise the 9pm and other ferries were cancelled by Calmac. The next ferry we could get on would have to be the 8.30pm on Monday, the following day. So we may as well stay in Hamilton with Claire’s folks, and that Bertie is what we have jolly well done!
So it is off to bed for me now at the ripe old time of 12.04am, Monday 25th November.
Day and night in Tobermory
A post on Tobermory, a place of day and night in terms of living here. In a few mere hours we can see two very different Tobermory’s.
For me this is the delight of the island that is Mull. No one moment is the same visually, but then again is that not life?
Sunday morning of the 17th November 2024
The same view on the evening of Sunday 17th November 2024
It is Monday the 18th just after 5pm as I type. It is fresh but mild outside if that makes sense, and with no rain. We await potential snow as does the rest of the country, especially those in high places. So I may soon see my first snow on the Isle of Mull.
Was down on Main Street earlier, about a couple of hours ago, to do some shopping at the Coop, and it is cheese cake for pudding tonight!
Looking down Main Street this evening
Isle of Mull Cheese (Sgriob-ruadh Dairy Farm and Distillery)
A walk with The Boss today for lovely coffee, cheese and venison toasties, and cake at the Isle of Mull’s very own cheese factory (and distillery.)
The Glass Barn (photo courtesy of Isle of Mull Cheese.)
Yes it was a bit nippy and windy, and we got hit with a rain squall as we walked up from the house, but it was worth it - for the food, the café interior, its shop, and the wonderful company of my wife.
Isle of Mull Cheese is well know and produces wonderful cheese; spirits from the whey by-product of the cheese production. The site is one in the same as the dairy, so a wonderful experience for a family and children.
The interior is rustic, as though from a classic Constable painting or Cider with Rosie. It feels to be transported back to olden days, or days of youth. For me another discovery to be found on Mull.
The Glass Barn (1st photo courtesy of Isle of Mull Cheese.)
The walk back saw no rain but great views looking out and over into the Sound of Mull. I got to say hello to a moo cow.
The view from the dairy farm. And a moo cow.
Peter Cobley
A friend has encouraged me to write about myself, showing all the positives I have. Well here goes.
Marrying Claire in Kingussie in 2017.
I’m 53, and today - Friday 18th October - marks my moving permanently to Tobermory, Isle of Mull, to be with Claire my wife, who now teaches there. All very exciting. And she’s on route via Loch Lomond as I type.
Me as a Person
A really nice chap who takes pleasure in helping people wherever he can. A firm proponent of the so called Golden Rule, the premise of which is simply to treat people as you’d want to be treated yourself.
I’m spiritual and believe strongly that all humans have a shared association and form part of nature, and ultimately the Universe. That life is about trying to do what is right, whilst accepting and forgiving the flaws we all have.
I’m well educated and well read, gulp, and keep on learning.
I volunteer where I can to give back, and after a number of enhanced DBS checks have worked with:
OCD Action
Change Grow Live (CGL) Tameside
ANEW
Give what has been freely given to you!
Costa Coffee Oban.
I have my business found us that I have worked hard at for over 10 years.
I have good ethics and am used by leading people and companies in the Regions - Microsoft, Dentsu, Channel 4 to name drop.
Half the business is head hunting/search and selection at senior level for the advertising, media, marketing industries.
Why? If you read my LinkedIn profile, you’ll see that I’ve held senior roles in advertising businesses, both offline and online.
I therefore have a black book of contacts to die for, and closely understand how to set an advertising business up, and run it successfully.
I have, always had, a knack for working with people and commanding their trust.
The other half of found us is Consultancy, Commercial, Sales and Marketing, or plain Non-Exec’ Director support, which I have good experience in, and deliver results.
This ties into the close work I carry out with the Management School at Lancaster University.
Look me up and ask me to help your business, yourself, your career. I’d be delighted to!
www.foundus.co.uk
http://linkedin.com/in/petercobley
I’ve achieved bloody good results for people, businesses, non-profit organisations, and I am keen to emulate this from the Isle of Mull.
And you know what? I am proud to shout about it from Oban, where I’m sat now.
Day 1 of the Saunders.
My passion, as is my wife’s, is fell running. With outdoor swimming (way before it came fashionable) and cycling, though we prefer touring.
Look me up on Flickr. I’ve taken some smashing photos over the years of the GR20 across to ultra fell races.
In repose at the half way camp.
Day 2 Start of the Saunders.
Penultimate check point.
Sunday. People. Thoughts. The Web. Social Media.
Claire’s photo taken today around 8am on Sunday 13th October - from the bedroom of our house in Tobermory, looking out to the Sound of Mull.
View from the house into the Sound of Mull.
It’s Sunday, scrubbed and showered and up early. Dark outside in a quiet Lochgilphead. I’m thinking about people after picking the phone up and drifting through LinkedIn and Facebook.
People are funny things. I post on LinkedIn and Facebook and Twitter predominately, with a smattering of AV on YouTube or TikTok. I try to share useful or thoughtful posts on these platforms, interspersed with Letters to the Viz Editor for amusement.
For me the phone and Social Media are to be avoided nowadays.
But it has made me think of people, and of how the pen is mightier than the sword.
The specific wording that "the pen is mightier than the sword" was first used by English author Edward Bulwer-Lytton in 1839.
An illustration of Cardinal Richelieu holding a sword, by H. A. Ogden, 1892, from The Works of Edward Bulwer Lytton.
I bemoan the addiction to digital and the loss of reading books or writing letters that seems to have encompassed Society at present. For f**ks sake I wish people would pick up books and read and discuss them in coffee shops across one of those circular tables. Actually talking to each other.
People think writing and discussion is to post on Social Media. That sound bites represent conversation.
It is clear from research that we are lowering our attention and concentration spans due to technology and this is disastrous!
We must be the most connected we have ever been as a species, yet the most unconnected.
On trawling through LinkedIn all I could see was ego, vanity, and trite posts about how well we/I are doing. Also writing such posts does not involve regurgitating what someone else has written. And it is certainly not being original in thought. And this new found inability to question the veracity of a post, to fact check what is written, crucially undermines the gift of the Web. It as though we are children given a magical toy on Christmas Day only to be bored with it and breaking it by New Year’s Eve, almost like having a puppy for Christmas whilst forgetting it is a living and breathing entity. In one sense The Web is a living and breathing cyber entity that we strangle with voluminous amounts of trite content and commentary.
Here’s something to note. Pay attention please.
The 55/38/7 Formula
The 90% figure wasn’t plucked out of thin air. It was Albert Mehrabian, a researcher of body language, who first broke down the components of a face-to-face conversation. He found that communication is 55% nonverbal, 38% vocal, and 7% words only.
So we as a species are not actually communicating via the Web. In fact we are shouting into a wildness. After all, do people really read the posts on Facebook or LinkedIn?
Are you in fact wasting your precious time?
In fact is anyone reading this? Am I not being hypocritical, paradoxically criticising the use of the Web, when harnessing it now?!?!
I suppose the Web can be welcomed as a means of communication BUT not to the extent we are relying on it.
Like the child with the toy at Christmas we are gorging on our new found fun to the exclusion of life and all about us, mere white noise. But I suppose in time this will change as the Web beds in, people become fed up with it, and life with mankind typically goes full circle, which if history is anything to go by will happen, ie boredom of and sensible Web usage. Getting outdoors for a walk and chat for example.
55% of communication is NON-VERBAL
Please make note of this. I have.
This is what I’m doing.
I actively now call people on the phone each day.
Ideally I sit down with another person and engage in conversation. This grounds me.
Conversation attacks loneliness. Or even worse living in one’s head with my thoughts.
I make time for Claire my wife. I love her. She’s all I really have.
I avoid iPhone usage.
I avoid Social Medua usage.
I’ve come to the conclusion that most Social Media posts are a) not worthy of reading, b) driven by ego and narcissism, c) are possibly written by people I would run a mile from.
I’ve had a Facebook cull. Who in life are my friends, my buddies, those I share my life with?
I’ll soon have a LinkedIn cull.
A lot of posts that are written are complete shite and not written for the greater good. More about self and allowing people to indulge in and encourages voyerism, with writer and reader not looking at self.
We now see a detachment from self and from others. Painful content or thought provoking content is reduced to the banal. This cannot be right. How can we grow as a species if we cannot differentiate between serious and non-serious, important, non-important, tragic, beautiful.
All of this reminds me of one of my favourite quotes, which are the words of Sylvia Plath.
I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.
Are you being limited by technology? Is it blocking you from all the shades, colours, emotions, feelings you could ever want to experience and share one to one with other human beings?
Are alive or trapped in a cycle of awake-phone-work-home-phone-bed-repeat?
It’s frightening isn’t it?
Woe to him that is alone when he falleth, for he hath not another to help him up. —Ecclesiastes
If we are stepping through this life, indifferent to those around us and thus separate from our fellow human beings, it is by conscious choice. It may be hard to reach out to someone close, but there will always be a willing hand to receive our own. Each of us has been created to offer others our unique gifts. When we choose a posture of indifference, we are denying to the universe what we have to give.
There is magic in the realization that our acquaintances, our co-workers and neighbors, are presented to us by design. We are here to learn lessons and we play teacher to each other. When we have stepped away from the circle of people calling to us, we are denying them the opportunities for growth they may need and preventing it in ourselves as well. We need one another, and being helped by someone else fulfills more needs than our own.
We are in one another’s world by design. I will enjoy the magic of that meaning, today.
October 11th - The Promise of a New Day - Hazelden
Finding a Balance.
What actually is balance? Life has me thinking on this, especially as we are all taught to have a healthy work/life balance. I’d like to crack open this misnomer as I’d call it.
A couple of photos of the Crinan Canal by Lochgilphead from a walk earlier today.
Where does your journey start?
I believe in life as one holistic existence and there is no private or public life. Just life and of how we live it. We need to really know ourselves (see further) in order to understand, live, and change our lives; so displacing the modern society model or artifice of private life and work as separate entities. This is social conditioning that dictates we live life on society’s, other’s terms, and that work, on average, takes more then 50% of one’s life.
We ought in fact to live life fully and not dissect it or split it and thus ourselves, willingly giving more to work as though it is a separate life to our own real one.
So how do I deconstruct thework/life structure that so many of us live by.
Happiness!
I believe in happiness and that one should pursue what makes us happy. All will fall into place after that. So one should think of what makes us happy. Because surely this is a more sound pursuit. And this then becomes the realm of dreams!
Which so often is conditioned out of us from childhood. You must get a job, a house, a career, get married….. if you can please read the familiar book Walkabout by James Vance. And failing that watch the film staring a young Jenny Agutter.
For dreams read:
https://www.foundus.co.uk/talk/a-scottish-adventure-dreams-fulfilled-what-is-your-dream
We need to be aware of nature and nurture, of us and our place in our environment, of whether we want to be subject to others and what they say. Have you really thought of whether your values and beliefs are those of others instilled in you from young? Work/life balance - where did you learn this and why?
Have you thought, really thought what you actually stand for, believe in, are? This can be quite difficult but worthwhile. Why two diametrically opposed parts to life in the form of work and non-work?!? Can you say to yourself and describe, “my life is… and I live my life to live my dream of….”
Let’s get one thing clear. We have just one life. Not a ‘work’ life and ‘personal’ life, just one.
(From There is no ‘Work-Life Balance’ — there’s just Life by Ant Murphy.
The article I quote one makes for good reading and nails key points I wish to make, and of how my views have changed. I don’t necessarily agree with all Mr Murphy says, but I certainly agree with his last paragraph.
We just have ‘life’ and we get to choose how we spend it. Life’s too short to have anything less.
Know thyself" is a philosophical maxim that means to fully understand oneself, including one's emotions, desires, and abilities.
It is best known from being inscribed on the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, Greece.
Could your life be a wobbly Jenga tower? Work and non work life in cosmic conflict as one never pleases the other. Do you have that constant feeling of chasing your tail? Of never quite achieving? That’s how I was. It was hard, but I collapsed my old tower and rebuilt. But I rebuilt no tower to rival other towers. I live and breathe and am Me, and being Me is an exposition of my dreams. I am authentic to others and myself. True to myself as to where I can be, and for that matter want to be. I am beholden to none.
You need to know yourself first, understand what you really believe in and want. On doing this you can seek your happiness, and life will fit into place for you. Work and other elements come under your control to deliver upon the dream, versus you being under their control.
Happiness rubs off on people as they see a liberation from worldly woes we thought we suffered from.
You have choice and many of us forget this. We let life (environment) make choices for us, including what we believe in.
And with choice we can live life knowing ourselves, look for and give happiness, and achieve dreams in one or many actions. We are not spread thin or in conflict for example by trying to live two very different lives - that of work and private life, or of parent, child, brother, sister etc. We can live as us and be free to chose. We can choose our role in life.
We have choice. We have action.
Making Wise Decisions
“Questions are never indiscreet; answers sometimes are.”
—Oscar Wilde
Over and over again, we circle the same thoughts in our minds, certain that if we keep chewing on them, we’ll be better able to make important decisions. Should we commit ourselves to a new relationship? Is it time to take a new job? Do we need to stand up for a principle?
The harder we try to make that “perfect decision,” the tighter and more obsessed we become. It starts to feel like the most important decision of our lives. The very process of decision making becomes a problem.
Instead of recycling the same thoughts, let us ask, “What’s the worst thing that can happen if we choose a given path today?” “Is this decision in sync with ourselves and our recovery?” “Will it work for today?” When we answer these questions, our choices are clear. And when we make positive, healthy decisions, the cycle of worry can stop. Our lives are more serene, more productive, and more calm.
Today help me to keep my perspective. No decision is without risk—but few are irreversible.
This inspiration is from
Body, Mind, and Spirit: Daily Meditations.
© 1990 by Hazelden Foundation. All rights reserved.
Quoted from the app Inspirations.
Lochgilphead. Where’s that?
I type from Lochgilphead. A place that has certainly grown on me and a hidden gem.
I’m here for one reason or another. Claire is in Tobermory with Calum and Katie. Tonight they are in the town, on the seafront, looking at the parade of cars participating in the 2024 Mull Rally.
Sitting above the town is Druim Hill and Blarbuie Forest which makes for extensive walking and where you can disappear from people and buildings. I’ve walked through the Victorian planted forest, which was to hide the original asylum, now general Hospital, and have also explored the higher working pine forest via its access roads. Highly recommended.
Blarbuie Forest.
On walking from the hospital into town, you are met with traditional Scottish town architecture, and whilst not extensive, there is a range of shops and coffee shops, all of which sits adjacent to the top of Loch Gilp and the entrance to the Crinan Canal.
Speaking of the Crinan Canal, it makes for lovely walking, cycling or running with its high levees giving commanding views over the countryside. The canal was built to enable ships access from the Irish Sea into the Clyde, so avoiding a rounding of the exposed Mull of Kintyre. Claire and I have enjoyed walking the canal and watching an assortment of yachts using the traverse from Sea to Loch.
Loch Gilp.
Oban is roughly an hour and ten minutes north of Lochgilphead and Loch Gilp leads into Loch Fyne with Inverary being the next largest settlement at the top of lunch Fyne. All in all beautiful and interesting countryside with which to explore.
This part of Scotland is worth exploring for its coastline and settlements and numerous Lochs, with you being able to venture inland for wild camping.
I’ve not so much explored this part of the West Coast of Scotland, instead being more familiar with the Rough Bounds area around Arisaig. But I have been impressed and fascinated.
As an Englishman who has had a taste of countryside and metropolitan life, I can safely say I prefer it here. It’s not just the soft and smooth tones, punctuated with idioms, from the locals. It’s the mentality. One of acceptance, friendliness, understanding, and welcome. No one judges on success (whatever that is, and it’s always alluded me) or money or material wealth: it is more about being a part of something, and in practical terms stopping for a chat. You are valued for who you are, not what you have or claim to be.
I won’t miss England, and I don’t miss saying that.
Indigo levitating on Succoth Ward.
A Scottish Sojourn.
Deep in the forest above Lochgilphead.
Sojourn means temporary stay. And I find myself for a month in Lochgilphead (look at a map) prior to Oban, and then Tobermory.
It’s a lovely little place next to Loch Gilp and the entrance to the Crinan Canal. A place of happiness and epiphany for me, but that’s another story.
I’m soon to catch up for a couple of hours with my wife Claire as she’s leaves Loch Tay where she’s been with family to Oban, then onto Mull. She’s in good spirits and that makes me fuzzy warm.
I can now say that I have finally physically, mentally, and emotionally departed England. Mind you I will need to get down there to retrieve possessions that are spread between Denton, Macclesfield, and Coatbridge. So much for being organised. Special thanks to the esteemed Lee Wyatt for watering my plants.
I, my life, found us my business, plus wifey embark on a new chapter with fun adventures ahead. That is both exiting and to the met with trepidation. What will happen? Who knows! But I feel alive again, like I have not felt alive for years.
I’ve learnt a lot since July, faced challenges, and learnt to be grateful for what I have, and those who care for me. And I realise I am rich. Very rich.
A selfie of Loch Gilp.
Death by Social Media! Dumped off Social Media? Fuck em'.
From Pandora's Box, where all the ills of humanity swarmed, the Greeks drew out hope after all the others, as the most dreadful of all. I know no more stirring symbol; for, contrary to the general belief, hope equals resignation. And to live is not to resign oneself - Albert Camus
Pandora’s Box and Social Media
Pandora opens the box in Greek mythology thus releasing ills on the world, yet closes the box lid on hope. It is very easy to simplify the story to one of her releasing horrible things and keeping what was good in a box. But like Social Media, that is over simplification.
The Greeks deliberately left hope in a box and remember it sat with the other ills prior to Pandora opening the box’s lid. Huh? This is what the initial quote of Camus drives at. Hope can be read as resignation or hanging on. To the Ancient Greek it was an ill, and this is the double edged sword of the tale or in fact as Camus in his quote hints at the salvation for humanity as hope is kept in a closed box. And the same, for me, applies to Social Media. It is a modern day version of the box - full of ills, but can also be a boon, a raising of humanity from its base self.
The advent of social media opened up a wealth of information that in the physical world could only really be accessed by physical access and knowledge thereof of this information. So a big thank you to an Englishman who was fed up cycling around a rather large science experiment in Switzerland to get paperwork and files.
On creation we lifted a lid on the box and out (as many now realise) flew out a load of shite. How many of us have been sucked into reading and watching content that to be honest is pointless, to have read false news from false heroes, to have judged jealously, spitefully what others say, to fall into a pit of woeful inadequacy and self loathing. Forgetting that no one really uses Social Media for truth, in fact only painting a false reality in order to make themselves feel better. Acting outwardly, too fearful to look in a mirror.
Social Media for me, and I would hope a lot of people, has become an absolute bane of my life in terms of its useless content and stoic ability to suck the life and time out of anyone.
Social media is Pandora’s box and what we have opened has proliferated to the point of worry and concern.
Yet the Ancient Greeks offer salvation in the form of hope being held within, and this is the same analogy we can draw for Social Media. Hope is a form of inaction, of doing nothing, of resignation, of anticipation. And I am glad that hope be denied also for Social Media as well as Ancient Greek Society. It means we do not have to resign ourselves to fate, where we are, and in modern day terms the pervasive and corrupting entity that is Social Media.
It modern parlance and less prosaic we can get up off our arse and do something about Social Media, its creators, and call out those using it - “fake, liar, full of shit, unauthentic, polishing a turd” and so on. Now my language fruity but Social Media like a Greek Tragedy only exists if it has protagonists or actors. So be a better fucking actor and disengage from Social Media; that’s what I am doing, and that also includes tech such as my iPhone.
We can view the Internet/Web as gifts for the dissemination and consumption of information. But remember Pigs eat pigswill. The Internet/Web can and does power the sharing of information, akin to the written and oral tradition that drove the Greeks. Instead of being a Piggy Piggy be a wise Owl soaring above the land spying what is worthy of a visit, and the scoffing the occasional rodent.
Yet we are forgetting that Social Media as an output of the Internet/Web is only as bad as it’s creators and users - don’t be one. Or if you do use it, use it with aforethought. A bad workman will always blame their tools.
We have opened in modernity Pandora’s Box and having left hope in the box, are forced to take society to the next level, without hope stifling, dragging us down, as we close down on the ills and woes we released with the birth of this technology.
Are we becoming dead in ourselves as a result of the usage of the Internet and Web? (Note I have switched from Social Media to Internet which is technology, and Web which is the content, of which Social Media is one output, and a cancerous one at that.)
Are we alive but asleep as we jump to algorithms, duplicity, and AI?
Have a read about DEAD INTERNET THEORY. Though read with a pinch of salt, it is a conspiracy theory, and I use it loosely and in allusion. In its context we can see the true death of our very being by Social Media, because it is the death of ourselves at the hands of what sits beneath Social Media which is the Internet and Web. Social Media is merely a Chimera, something of which the Ancient Greeks knew so much. And the beast that the Internet and Web has both created and become needs slaying. Where do we go next? Maybe we go back to books, to oral tradition, to human connection - I certainly think so.
Oral Tradition meets reading. Pick up a book or open your mouth you literary peasants.
The reality is Social Media is a red herring, it a Chimera, not real and mistaken as the real evil. It isn’t. It is what sits beneath.
So I now expand on Pandora’s Box. We can get up off our arses instead of hoping, and reject the Internet and Web as the sole means of life, be aware of the ills it released of which Social Media is one, act to utilise the Internet and Web as a means of gaining information, accept it is out of the box, live with it, but don’t live for it. If we are aware of the Internet/Web, we can accept it for what it is - namely a tool we can use badly or well. I hope to rally people to change usage!
Dumped off Social Media? How shocking! How hurtful! How nasty! Not really, they probably did you a favour so fuck em!!!
Now onto a more amusing bit. As relations now seem to be in the surreal world of Social Media and here I will quote Facebook and Strava, one needs to take stock, stand back, and have a breath of fresh air.
People now have relationships in the air, the ether of the Web in forms such as Facebook, but where is the substance. The substance is speaking to another human being in a truthful way whether good or bad.
I now find it highly amusing that relationships rise and fall on the acceptance and rejection on, in this case for me, Facebook and Strava. In having rejected the Internet/Web, and Social Media in its current form I stand outside the circle of others and won’t pick up the ball and play the game. Plus after all I have been through in and out of addiction I much prefer to say it how it is.
The World of Social Media Knob Heads
Be careful, we now enter the world of Knob Heads in the past life of Peter Cobley, and they are nothing more than a fiction, people living in a fiction, not able to sit in front of a mirror and question themselves. Fuck em’ off.
So my advice if you have been defriended or blocked on Social Media, in my case Facebook or Strava is not to worry. And I mean that. You see if you care you are indulging in this artifice of real life, plus if someone has to do something behind you back and not to your face, then “fuck em’”. They clearly cannot and will not live a real life.
And when I look back, whilst my drunken delivery of how I felt and what was done to me, was well… theatrical, I have no regrets. I am glad I called out Colin Bishop, Jen Ulwin Bishop of Mossley, and publicly. This is authentic, real, challenges the Pandora’s box of the Internet, Web, and Social Media and shows more backbone that Colin Bishop cycling off on a bike.
And it speaks a truth in the true oral tradition, that you are both not very likeable people. You are in fact worse than that. You are examples of people who are dead inside and certainly cannot see beyond Social Media and its like to humanity. More concerned with form and not substance, form over help and honesty.
Over now to Stuart Hutchison and Ruth Hutchison, of Manchester Road, Mossley. Dumping, blocking me on Facebook and Strava is amusing and sums you up as a) trapped in the machine, b) can only communicate via Social Media, and not speak to a face, a person, a human c) live in a world where all is Facebook and Strava etc. yet in fact you are two vacuous individuals who are quite nasty and horrid. I see through you. Wrapped up in your own life of lies, gossip, untruth. And this is what happens to people when they mistake reality for Social Media. Yes, I posted a few rum things, said a few rum things, that I regret, but you actually acted on this reality (which was not the real me, this I now realise) and chose a false reality casing aside friendship - well shame on you.
You see Peeps you don’t have to worry if people reject you on Social Media. It is not real, and neither are the people.
Others who dumped, blocked me include Chris Phillips, who I realise is certainly not sincere as he plays, Julie O’Regan who is gossip extraordinaire and unhappily lonely as she works her way “around”. Richard Gee, butter would not melt in this mouth as to his actions, and James Sheard, who let me down so badly. And Des Thorpe, who I viewed as a friend.
Over to Lily Allen.
You see I don’t really care about the people I just mentioned. I don’t. I am happy. They? I don’t care. And you can be the same if you view them as “Knob Heads”.
Don't use Vodafone. From a customer who was with them for nearly 20 years.
I can safely say that Vodafone has gone down hill and the organisation would not know customer service even if it bit Vodafone on the bottom. Very hard on the bottom in fact. I say this as a customer from 1995 who left about 3 months ago this year.
I originally acquired my Motorola flip analogue phone (yes analogue) back in 1995 from Carphone Warehouse (yes, I am that old.)
The provider was Talkland, to be acquired by Vodafone.
And believe it or not I stayed with them based on contract phones, other other tech, e.g. iPads, and their customer service and their being British.
By 2024, I possessed an iPhone 13 on contract, my paying approximately £60pcm, V-Home, and Multitracker.
I’d run my Mum’s phone as well via Vodafone.
So I spent a lot of money over the years.
One key reason for Vodafone was and is their network coverage, especially data.
So what did I notice?
By 2022 I reckon Vodafone had begun to turn into a shit show in terms of customer service, and certainly the case by the time I left in 2024.
What shocked me was my simply requesting the PAC code and Vodafone doing sod all.
Shit customer service, when you could get through to a agent.
Waiting times, not to mention the impenetrable and hard to navigate voice system, to then meet (normally and by no means my criticism of culture) a foreign language agent following a script unable to make decisions, and for the most part possessing bad product knowledge, with a failure to understand simple customer needs.
Though when speaking to technical specialists I can say they did know their stuff.
To then make matters worse Vodafone simply exited its V-Home portfolio of products, saying “bye bye” without some much as offering an alternative or saying sorry.
On enquiring of EE off the back of shifting address with our BT home package I was astounded as to cost savings, service, native British speaking agents, better customer App and UI.
Conclusion
If anyone from Vodafone reads this I am glad to be out. You need to sort your customer services out. You prices stink. You let customers down, including me, as to V-Home. In fact you seem to flippantly deal with your customers. And lastly no effort whatsoever was made to retain a loyal customer of 20+ years.
So in the words of Lilly Allen…..
A scathing assessment as to Private Rehabs, especially UKAT/Linwood House
UKAT’s Barnsley Linwood House.
Linwood House and its owner UKAT represent the worse to for me in terms of my experience of paid addiction rehab. And for anyone reading this blog post, feel free to contact me over UKAT and Linwood House, and in my opinion the appalling manner in which Linwood House was run.
I won’t go into my addiction here, suffice to say I am in recovery and thankful for it, having lost people I have known to addiction, and that it affects so, so many people.
You can read about my fun and games with addiction in my other blog posts, the role my OCD played which is a topic in its own right, and of what I learnt.
And this piece of prose is a WARNING to people in addiction as to the perils of private rehab, its addiction therapy; all based on my experience over twelve and a half years from the point of my realising I had a potential problem with my first AA meeting in November 2011, to September 2023 when I entered a place called Vernon House, and more on this to come.
UKAT and Linwood House as a Case Study
I have been in the Priory, Linwood House, Chapman Barker (NHS), and now ANEW. So I feel I have a benchmark from which I can be very honest about the service provided by private and paid rehabs, feedback from people who have been there; and I can safely say why, in my opinion, private organisations should not and must not be involved in addiction treatment.
Vulnerable people and addiction
I first knew there was a problem in 2021 when on advice I attended my first AA meeting in November.
When you are in addiction at it’s bitter end which for me was 2023, so is your family by proxy, your friends and others; you are incredibly vulnerable both mentally and physically. With severe reliance on an additive substance, mentally you barely function, cognitively wanting the hell to stop. Physically you are likely to need a medical detox as you are biologically addicted, and will suffer withdrawal without the substance, hence suffering the chronic cravings that lead to needing the fix to the point of insanity, poor decisions, and out of character behaviours
So, where you and you family need intervention this is where (I now to my horror realise) the money men come in now dressed in the form of rehabs, addition facilities. Dressed with a solution (there is not a solution in the form of a quick fix they peddle), care, and deep concern. Be aware they are only after money.
They are attractive for the following reasons. And if you check my LinkedIn profile you will see that I am an advertising man by history, and understand the following themes. UKAT are a prime example of all that is wrong with unregulated private firms. Now I’m not saying unregulated in terms of CQC etc. I talk unregulated in terms of ethics, delivery of service, and aftercare. Sadly and with shock I hope you’ll read how the practical delivery of addiction services by private concerns is sloppy and riven with a conflict of interest.
The common point of entry
Normally via a phone call after engagement with a website.
Tailored marketing is utilised.
The websites of these companies are optimised to appear in search engine results.
The companies have swish sales teams/call centres on the end of the phone.
This language on literature and websites is solution orientated and couched in caring terms.
All paid for service providers have a natural conflict of interest. Namely money. They need bums on seats in their facilities in order to pay the bills, so sales will always outway ethics because it has to.
Older and established organisations like Priory Group do not escape. Oh no. They merely have more polished brands that attract people, with a higher grade of facility, hence the costs.
There is, I found, a common economy with the truth, and with the facts as to the addiction recovery process they offer. You’ll find that they won’t keep statistics, let alone share them. For example how many clients stayed sober after year having used your facility?
All pitch a solution at cost in their lovely facility. With therapy, help. The reality is far from the truth.
The delivery, the truth
I found you are simply paying for an overpriced hotel room of varying quality. Therapy commonly follows the first three steps of the 12 Step Programme as created and shared by Alcoholics Anonymous. And the therapy varies, it varies massively.
The core problem is a paid service.
A paid entity cannot push a client in addiction to the limit. And if my story is anything to go by, you need pushing to the limit to overcome your addiction, because if in rehab you need help. You are normally at the end of self, and maybe like me you’ve not picked up on what the Fellowships of Alcoholics Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous, Cocaine Anonymous and others have and do offer. Blunt, honesty, shared experience.
A paid business I discovered won’t push the fee payer to the point they leave, or bad mouth the brand. This is something very simple but a crucial Achilles Heel in all these businesses. They won’t destroy the addict within because it affects the flow of money. The fee paying client is always right at the end of the day.
I suggest you sack off paid rehab. Self detox is possible, as is charitable. I did it. You learn the real pain of addiction.
UKAT is a prime example of preying on vulnerable people, families, friends, with a solution that is copied from free outside organisations whether AA, NA, CA etc. They take people into their service and truly overcharge. The addict is so desperate for a medical detox they’ll do, sign, pay for anything. As will lovded ones. And these places cost thousands.
When you break it down you are paying a lot of money to get a bed, food, detoxed, and therapy. It should not cost this much. Why? Because organisations like ANEW fucking well prove you can provide facilities for a fraction of the cost.
Did you know a GP can prescribe a home detox for alcohol, but often don’t due to not being able to monitor it. My point is the cost is not great. So in a paid for facility, on being cleaned up you are then put into therapy, and the pisser is that it's normally Steps 1, 2, 3 of a 12 Step Programme with a few bits added; something that is free of charge out in public life and delivered in my opinion in a more honest, genuine manner, tailored to you. With the paid facilities it is shocking delivered as wrote, so undermining how the outside organisations actually work.
The paid rehabs get you in, detox you, do the steps and a bit of therapy, and bang you think they are God.
Their one size fits all is great when playing a business numbers game, which provides yield, but awful with dealing with one person's reasons for drinking for example. Hence the dreadful success rates. But define your success.
Ambulance chasing
I am strongly of the view that these paid organisations are ambulance chasers. They are there when you are at rock bottom and you will snatch at anything to get you out of the mire, and money becomes no object. I know as this is the experience I now have behind me, and the worse of the lot being UKAT, and I spoke to a few organisations.
I am absolutely disgusted with the 2.5 months over two periods in 2021 I spent with UKAT. A building site of a facility, poor management, poor therapy, a sausage machine method toward clients. And all of this driven by a sales approach that leverages poorly people. And what really pisses me off is the regulatory bodies such as CQC not having a Scobbie Do as to what is going on.
A few good people and the conflict of interest
Now, not all people in paid rehabs are ethically bankrupt. I came across in The Priory for example, on its nursing ward staff who knew their stuff, cared as though you were their own, and paid no care to money, and had distain for the Addiction Therapy Team. So, please do not tarnish all in these organisations, that would be wrong. Just as much as I came across one excellent Therapist at Linwood House (UKAT) who was wasted there and has now moved on to better help others.
In life most things have defects, including organisations, and yes I agree The Priory and UKAT have and do save lives and help. The issue I have is the sheer cost ratio to achievement, and of how the cost does not reflect what happens in the non for profit sector.
Why Rehab when the Fellowships are out there?
The Fellowships of AA across to NA or CA do work , they really do. But some people are tough cookies, and do need intervention especially if a medical detox is needed. I was one of them.
Let me make clear that I am not against a facility if that brings out of control and dangerous addiction to a halt.
So is there a place for paid services? YES, but not in its current format. I think the issue can be solved with regulation. Commercial/ethically led intervention is needed as the likes of the CQC are hoodwinked as to what is actually occurring, and can only really focus on the nursing side, and thus make poor assessment of rehab/addiction facilities as it is such a specialist area.
Don’t use the likes of UKAT or The Priory; go non for profit - Case Studies
At the end when private rehab had not worked I luckily through AA learnt about ANEW. And it is not the only non for profit facility that one can use. For example via ANEW in Hyde I have now learnt about Elisha House in and Damien John Kelly House in Liverpool.
These organisations work closely with the individual and their reasons for addiction. You see substance abuse is both a cause and symptom. The non for profit strives to understand and help the individual understand why they drink, akin to deep therapy from a psychanalytical basis. The addict is taught to see and challenge their addict side, that like Hyde has with Dr Jekyll, subsumed the original person as a way of escaping what bothers, has traumatised them.
Cost is literally to cover the bare minimum with support from State and other sources.
People are helped from middles class backgrounds across to those fished off the street.
Compare this to Priory Group and specifically my entering its Altrincham facility in 2020. Now a huge amount of slack can be cut for this organisation as I entered literally as COVID kicked off. It was chaos and I don’t blame the facility for how they handled things, and they did give me the offer of going home. I chose not to.
What I learnt from my four week stay can be summed up as follows: “Great brand, comfortable, nice facility, okay therapy, banal.” You buy into a big brand and yes you get unrivalled medical care on the Ward you live on and structured therapy as to addiction from the team. But and this is the cruical but; all they did was work through Steps 1-3 of the AA Programme and add in a life story and some consequence letters. The aftercare revolved more around face to face/Zoom checking in and glory tales of how well people were doing, but if a relapse occurred you became a persona non grata booted off the aftercare. There was and is not any sense of community. I suspect failure rates are immense. I personally would say to someone that they don’t go there, save their money, and tough it out with a non for profit. Brand in this case does not engender quality. But I respect the professional approach of the medical staff that cannot be faulted. The ATP team specialising in therapy were flawed and clearly at odds with each other. It was a one size fits all approach. This does not work.
Jesus Christ on a bike, where do I even start with UKAT and Linwood House?!?! I entered for four weeks in 2021, and chose to stay for another four - more fool me. Please, please call or message me before going near this organisation.
The facility was only interested in money. There was no direct contact with medical staff, apart from the dispensing nurse on her way out to retirement with an attitude that stank to high heaven. The Doctor dealt with you over a video call with absolutely no empathy at all. Medicines for withdrawal handed out like candy - truly shocking. Young members of staff supervising clients abused their roles based on lack of experience and training. Disorganised to say the least would also be polite.
The therapy team run by Julie, who I believe is till there, delivered by wrote therapy, sort of adhering to Steps 1-3 of AA. No work books. Nothing. No grasp of anything really. And in no uncertain terms I dump this firmly on Julie’s doorstep. UKAT must be aware of this and take no action.
As said therapy sessions were by wrote, with some of the therapists disinterested and clearly disheartened by UCAT. There was and is a turnover rate of these. I have heard of one and a half page life story’s across to unplanned off the cuff sessions. There was absolutely no examination of personal reasons or trauma for why a person used a substance(s). All people I have spoken to ex-Linwood have been scathing as to what they received for their money.
The therapist to client ratio shocking.
They were more than happy to let clients (like the Priory) head to their bedrooms and stay there flying in the face of ANEW for example where you are forced to mix and face your addiction. There is so much more I can list suffice to say the Clients out of therapy were left to their own devices. No signposting, no constant teamwork integration, working on self. For example, there was no enforcement of attending Zoom meetings, let alone going to face to face ones, and I suppose UKAT will hide behind COVID. This was money, my money, thrown down the drain.
I left, lasted a few weeks, picked up a drink as I had not looked at me and why I drank. This slightly obvious fact overlooked on the basis of their sausage machine mentality as to clients.
I went back for two weeks, left, and drank the next day. More wasted money.
My money was happily taken off me by Bill the General Manager at the time running the facility (won’t surprise me if UKAT blame him for it all) who was clearly under a lot of pressure whilst sort of caring for his clients.
In 2022 (thank God I did not go again) I contacted UKAT with a view to entering. I’d relapsed. I in fact went to the NHS Chapman Barker Unit. I was promptly charged £1,500 deposit and the day before, yes the day before, was contacted by Linwood House to be told that on entering I would be on a final warning due to previous behaviour of a sexual nature. In a vulnerable place I was mentally shot to bits and fell to bits. It transpires the young member of staff did not have grounds to say this, nor make or deliver such information, and I now know from leaked information (I suppose I could make a Freedom of Information claim) the accusation based on poor information recording and thus was hearsay, as was confirmed by the new general manager (and my inside contact that let me see the data on a work laptop) and the money refunded. No real apology. The detail I write is necessary as I was certainly not up to any wrong sexual behaviour in Linwood. It is an example of how badly run the facility is. I suspect all this was swept under the carpet, and no action taken. At this point I really could not be bothered. Anyway I got over it but learnt a lot.
UKAT and Linwood House is bad. Very bad. But it all looks so good. This is a case of polishing a rehab turd.
They say the pen is mightier than the sword and I hope this goes some way to expose UKAT. Any attempt to sue under consumer legislation based on poor service would, sadly, be painful and drawn out. It is not that I don’t want to fight, or have bile in my throat, it is more about doing what is right for me. If one person reads this and does not use UKAT then that is payment enough for me.
Charity rehabs, staffed by those who have been there
I will use ANEW as an example, or Elisha House, or Damien John Kelly House, or the NHS Chapman Barker Unit Why? Because they are setup and run by people who have been in and suffered from addiction, or understand it medically as per Chapman Barker.
Speaking of the NHS, where it has money for addiction it is selfless and good, working closely to help people. The problem is it is not designed for therapeutic residential treatment. Chapman Barker is a one week, give or take a few days, detox centre, and much more is needed after this.
My advice, charity rehabs, options - A conclusion
Go non for profit, or contact CGL or other initially depending on where you live. Please don’t use paid private organisations. Your detoxing may be done on your own, which is a shitty but educational experience. Or talk to these organisations to help you obtain a charity/State paid for detox. These organisations and their people can help here.
What is so, so important is their ability to understand and deep dive into your addiction. They can push and prod and poke to their heart’s content, as they have the ability to tell the client to fuck off and to pack their bags. In attacking the addict we must use truth and tough love to get a person to look at their addict truly. Give them the tools to break the cycle of addiction, don’t sugar coat it.
Please go to these organisations first. You can even do taster days and talk to residents. Please don’t make the mistake I did of paying for a fix - there is not one. You have to do it yourself with brutally honest help.
Such organisations are a great path to ongoing recovery via the Fellowships. CRUCIALLY they focus on creating, building, and living COMMUNITY after treatment. And this is so important. The original AA people back in the 1930’s could not understand after cleaning a person up, why they’d pick up and go back to the hell of addiction. It is because you need connection with people in recovery to remember where you have been, and of how you can live you life differently and deal and cop with your own baggage without numbing yourself. And that is what drink and other does, it numbs you but only in the short term - you have not learnt to face and make peace with your trauma* and sit in it.
*Trauma does not have to be something major or horrid. We as humans all have trauma in life. It is about how we live with it. For example, two people go for a job interview and both do not get a job. One thinks “oh well, I learnt something, try again”. The other feels worthless, unloved, a failure, and goes to the pub for a drink to block these feelings out. This person may have baggage from childhood where they were neglected and thus feel worthless and rejected, which carries through to the interview failure, and they act according to their belief of self. “I am not good enough” and they cannot sit in this, but a drink will take them away. They play out their believed history. It is this that needs addressing and technically not the drink, for that is a symptom, and means of coping. If the behaviour is hysterical then it is historical goes an old saying.
Please note!
Recovery is about you wanting it and doing it. No amount of money or for that matter charity will do it for you.
So do read what I have written previously with an important caveat, namely that only you chose to drink or use, and only you chose to stop. So in one sense you cannot blame outside players in the game you have chosen to play, but they were participants in my game, the paid one, and they were vultures and still are.
Time in Tobermory. Time with Wifey. Time with the Parents-in-Law.
Well I type as I watch vintage TV which I always enjoy with Claire and her parents in the house in Tobermory. Two Ronnies at the moment and very funny. I do think at times contemporary comedy crap.
This was this first full day in Tobermory and what a day. Claire off to school for her last day of term, with a half day then the hols, with a trip on the ferry to Kilchoan on the Ardnamurchan peninsular with fellow teachers for a meal. And they were very merry when I met them off the ferry. Ahem. All the more amusing as some of the soccer playing school girls bumped into them outside the Co Op and asked if they’d been drinking. He he he.
We bought fish and chips from the harbour and walked up to the house.
Earlier in the day Claire had headed for school whilst we pottered around at the house, with my eventually getting my arse in gear to put the running gear on and head up to Crater Loch: Lochan 'S Airde Beinn. A loch that sits in an ancient volcanic crater about 3 miles outside of Tobermory and accessed next to three lochs. It is a pleasant climb out of Tobermory on the Dervaig Road before you come off the road and climb a mile to the crater.
It is a spectacular sight, and maybe more so for me because of the strong wind, low grey clouds, and sense of isolation with my being the only person there. It is a highly recommended run or walk.
I ran back to shower to then walk with Josie and Ronnie to meet Claire at An Tobar (arts centre) across the road from where she teaches.
We were meeting there for drinks and food as next door at 2pm was a concert The Scottish Coast by the Inchcolm New Music Ensemble over from Herriot-Watt University with its Director of Music, Matthew Brown, someone I went to school with, sang with, performed with. A very talented, lovely fellow.
I’d had no idea at all about the concert and luckily a mutual school friend, Gareth Hatch, had spotted a Facebook post by Matthew and let me know. And I am so glad he did. The concert magical in the atmospheric Parish Church next to An Tobar. Matthew and his parents who were there, delighted to see us all. It made for good conversation.
The last piece (will need to find its name) was wonderful.
Ah, Tobermory. I love you every time I come.
Journeys of an Englishman travelling foreign climes (well Scotland.)
Today I type from a delayed Scotrail train to Oban. A three hour trip through beautiful scenery. With me are Josie and Ronnie, my parents in law as I chaperone them to Oban and then onto Craignure on the Isle of Mull via Calmac ferry the Isle of Mull. At platform 4 Queen Street, Glasgow the Scotrail people could not connect the two trains together that form the service and we are now over 20 minutes late, with a potential arrival time of 3.54pm into Oban and the ferry 3.55pm. Sat at the very front of the train I can hear it labour as it chases time itself.
I travelled up yesterday from Dukinfield using the very excellent National Express service for Glasgow that calls into Hamilton. Long gone are the lyrical days of the using a service where you could both hide from, and see life.
Take the National Express when your life's in a mess
It'll make you smile
All human life is here
From the feeble old dear to the screaming child
From the student who knows that to have one of those
Would be suicide
To the family man
Manhandling the pram with paternal pride
And everybody sings, "Ba-ba-ba-da"
We're going where the air is free
National Express by the Divine Comedy - Verse 1 - Released 25th January 1999
My life was a mess but is no longer a mess, and I was happy to see both Josie and Ronnie, catch up on sleep in their comfortable house, with today being our journey from Queen Street via train to Oban, Josie deciding and preferring a taxi with a cheerfully pleasant driver. making the station with time to drink lovely coffee (Danish pastry and tart for me) in kaffateria opposite the station. And highly recommended for its coffee.
All fine and we mosied over to the estimated platform 4, which was where I departed from last time I was off to Mull. Now last time there was a problem, and as fate would have it the same problem occurred again. The difference being I was armed with two Scottish pensioners. Very simply the train is made of two parts. And at Crianlarich it splits into a Oban train and a Mallaig train, with the Oban section being the front of the train, normally four carriages, out of Queen Street. Last time they could not connect the train and everyone piled onto the Mallaig train after watching the Oban section sneak out of Queen Street having failed to couple to its mate. Same again, and we watched as our train, our seat reservations, fuck off into the dark tunnel. Sharp walk to other train, looking through windows for those unreserved table seats.
Now I must admit it was better than last time, which was Saturday, hot weather, and a platform knee deep in people, tourists, cyclists. Back then I’d managed to bag a seat opposite a dog named Snoop.
This time though a new train shot in to Queens Street and connected up with the Mallaig section to give a big train, midweek when less busy, and despite no original reservations we did bag a table and seats at the very front of the train. Mind you I did position myself right at the front of the train by the passenger door. Seat table sorted, bags stowed I wandered down the carriages checking on some unfortunate elderly ladies who were on a three week painting holiday taking in the Inner and Outer Hebrides, and like us armed with bags had been caught short on the platform; where we had spoken earlier. All three were good and I returned to the seat to type this post, eat some M&S crisps from a meal deal, and relax at the view, as were Ronnie and Josie.
Shame there is no Trolly Dolly as I could murder a coffee, but laugh inside at some more Divine Comedy lyrics that I remember from the old days of the National Express.
On the National Express there's a jolly hostess
Selling crisps and tea
She'll provide you with drinks and theatrical winks
For a sky-high fee
Mini-skirts were in style when she danced down the aisle
Back in '63 (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
But it's hard to get by when your arse is the size
Of a small country
And everybody sings, "Ba-ba-ba-da"
We're going where the air is free
Tomorrow belongs to me
Verse 2.
Addendum:
As I proof read this I see the Trolly Dolly heading our way. Life is good.
Thoughts on a bike. Thoughts running. Thoughts swimming.
Between Ogden Brook and Chew Hurdles.
I cycle a lot these days. I don’t use a car. But that’s fine because I enjoy the cycling, the freedom it gives me, away from people, and with my thoughts. Cycling and thinking are good things, but only really works on a simple and straight route like a bridleway. But then again a more tricky route can give a break from thinking and let the subconscious kick in.
I’d recommend it.
I’ve started running again and as a number know, I am predominately a trail and fell runner. Originally an all round outdoor type, ending up in mountain biking. I think about running in the hills. It is where I can be alone, with my thoughts, with the scenery I run through, without people to distract me.
People can be very distracting.
I ran yesterday 18.82 miles. Not 19, not 18. Just a number and that’s all that counts for me these days. In the old days I would have rounded it up to 19. Why? I have OCD, or just plain showing off for others. I don’t do this anymore. People call it a paradigm shift.
Out of all of these it is the running or to be precise the fell running (mountain running) that I have fallen in love with, but I have to work to get back into all after not really running properly since May 2023 and before COVID. Tricky times but what has helped has been a shift in how I value things withing my life, choices I can make, and not worrying about emulating others.
I am soon to be 53 in September and back into the running, and taking it gradually. I really, really want to have a crack at the BG Round and this me determined enough. A lot of life I now realise is about action. We can take a long time planning and of thinking what to do, but not doing. Procrastination, which is fear of something, holds us back. I know it has held me back. And if I analyse this with new learning understand this fear is not of failure per se but of not being good enough before others, and this is fed from feelings of worthlessness, of wanting to people please, be good enough. Funny that. In unravelling, through knowledge of self. I am left with fear of self stopping running as I won’t be good enough in front of others, and at its pinnacle when racing.
And this is a shame. Suspicion of self are those basement beliefs that hold us back. Moments from the past that govern us now.
But I know this now and can take action. If you look to the Johari Window and flip it slightly I have shifted from unconscious fear to conscious fear. I am aware of my history, its impact on me, and of how I can take action.
Increasing Your Self-Awareness: The Johari Window - Enrique Rubio - LinkedIn
And my action is to be me, act in the moment, without fear of what others may think, or not think. To look to me AND what I want to do in the moment, or where I have planned the moment.
If I want to fell run, then I do that and don’t need the permission, approval, or sanction of others. Why ought I fear comparison to others for in doing that, i now realise, I reject self.
And I not longer reject who I am.
Krakow and a curious incident.
It is ever so funny that I choose to write this piece about August 2007, which is fast approaching 17 years ago but the rawness is still there as are the people, and what happened and what they did. I have forgiven my behaviour where I was sat in clinical depression and using drink to cope with it, and undiagnosed OCD. I have forgiven Justin Fenny and John Paul Edwards of their cruel behaviour; sadly it is still a memory for me and will remain so.
Thankfully I did make my peace in Krakow on a Round Table trip with the guys, sharing a day with the lovely Dave Powell. Dave and I on the first day had become disconnected from the others who headed to the famous salt mines outside of Krakow, with David and I wandering and exploring Krakow, me explaining to him what happened and my re-visiting it all. Thank you David, your patience and kindness a great help. I preferred to use these pictures of Krakow with David, whose company I miss, as the other Round Table chaps. I don’t want to post the pictures from the first trip.
Even in 2009, two years after what happened, I can see from the photos I was not right and painting a smile. I am able to remember this now; that I was not well.
Little did I know in 2007 how things would turn out. In the first part of the year I’d had an absolutely magical time backpacking with The Pigs in Tunisia - https://flic.kr/s/aHsiN7bZi2 - and it had been a complete discovery.
But little did I know that by summer I had become ill with clinical depression brought on by undiagnosed OCD driven by work pressure from Yahoo! UK & Ireland. I reached a frightening point where I literally could not sleep for days at a time, a clinical component of depression. Lost as to what was happening, with an inconsolable sadness, fatigue, and sleep deprivation I was not functioning and using drink heavily to cope and not aware of how dangerous this was.
By summer I was struggling and really noticed how bad I was on a Choir trip to Bad Bergzabern, near Karlsruher in Germany. I was singing with my old school music Teacher’s Macclesfield Community Choir on their town exchange with this beautiful and friendly German town. Sue Grundy who’s son Stephen I was in school with noticed I was not well, and think this because she’d suffered depression herself. I was functioning, but dog tired, and mentally worn out with the OCD.
After the trip I had a short spell back in Macclesfield before a trip to both Krakow and the ski resort of Zakopane. This is where it fell apart. Of my own accord but very much due to the behaviour crucially of John Paul Edwards; back then a thoroughly awful person.
August time of 2007 or thereabout saw me on a pre-arranged holiday in Krakow with Justin Fenny who I had known from University days (I was 36 at this point) and his friend John Edwards (who I knew through Justin, or thought I knew) and Edwin (who I knew much less, friends with Justin and John Paul Edwards, and more an acquaintance to me.)
Heading first to Durham on the train to stay over with John Paul Edwards or JP, was a bad idea. I should have sought medical attention and not gone, but read about that below. I got to JP’s and was not in a good way, my mind trapped in OCD, yet to be discovered.
In Krakow it was awful and I could not cope, could not sleep, was sleep deprived. I was isolating, withdrawn, in my own thoughts, acting oddly. I understand it was hard for the guys, but how JP and Justin behaved haunts me to this day. One night I was especially not well and decided to stay out drinking in the Jewish Quarter of Krakow. It was a very bad decision in hindsight. I had strong vodka with a cafe owner and then decided to get back to the accomodation. I could not think and was lost and very frightened, and at one point knocked to the ground by some youths but luckily not mugged or assaulted. I did make my way back to the hotel room, and quite wrongly with broken thinking verbally laid into Justin as I felt he’d let me down and was not there. It was wrong and hurt Justin very much, and I get that.
However both Justin, JP’s behaviour especially was appalling. I was ill, and I get my behaviour and depression was hard to fathom, yet they abandoned and ostracised me in a foreign city when I was very ill and poorly, in fact broken and at risk. Thank God a good friend in the form of Leslie Denton was available on the mobile to keep me calm via repeated calls. I somehow managed to get back to the hotel for a shared taxi to the airport. The atmosphere stank. Out of all of this was sickening, nasty behaviour from JP showing no care at all. He was even cruel enough to make me sit elsewhere on the plane back. We landed in Newcastle and my elderly father was forced to drive all the way to airport to collect me, Justin having refused to have me stay over. The arrogance and patronising behaviour shown to my father shocking.
Friends look after each other
What I now learn from this horrible event was these were not friends, not human at all. They could see a human being in distress, not even a stranger to them, and yet did nothing but be cruel in words and action, and took no action to check on my well being. Or even bothered to do anything. Conceited to the absolute core, and this hurt so much and spiralled me wandering the streets alone in fear on that last day.
The last I heard was JP was still at the Geography Department of Durham University working as administrative staff with undergraduates. I can safely say this person must be one of the most uncaring, venomous individuals I have ever met. But that was back then, and people change and people make mistakes. But if not? Then keep a wide berth. I probably sound vengeful but I am not - too much has passed without and within me. I simply tell the facts.
Justin, an old dear friend from first year at university, was willing to sacrifice 18 years of knowing each other. But as I have learnt, there are many wolves in sheep’s clothing. I think Justin one of these. A true friend would have not behaved this way. My other university friends did not and supported me. I hope you are getting all you want out of life Justin, but I ask at what cost? Are you still single, away on ships, buying nice cars with your oil/gas industry money? I suspect you are. Maybe look in the mirror one day.
Bad Bergzabern
A beautiful town if you can get there and not too hard to find, with its own natural hot water spa. The first time there with the choir in retrospect was not pleasant and I struggled. The second time was better but I was still not well. I’d originally visited in 2007, and made it back to see the choir perform in 2010 when on a trip to Stuttgart with Gavin Bose. That was a special day with Gavin and I still remember it now after these years.
Dr D. Morris of Park Green Surgery, Macclesfield (and incredulously an ex-Round Tabler)
Back in 2007 when I started to become very poorly I did engage with my Doctor’s surgery. I respect Doctors and all they have to deal with, and they are not perfect. How can they be? They are only human, however I do feel this worthy of a mention.
I think Dr David Morris of Park Green Surgery can be summed up as follows. I was that ill in 2007 I attempted to hang myself. On seeing Dr Morris and explaining this, his response was to say it can be lonely in the early hours, and that was it. A dire grasp of mental illness and its treatment from a GP, and this was also commented on scathingly as no surprise from the local MIND branch. I honestly think with the proper help at GP level I could have avoided all that was to happen in 2007, and which ultimately led to three months off work from Yahoo! UK & Ireland. You see, I’d seen my Doctor prior to the Bad Bergzabern trip. Way before all really deteriorated.
I mention Round Table as Dr Morris was an ex-Chairman and on mentioning all to my Round Tabler friends was greeted with some less than diplomatic comments.
Anyway it is in the past, history, gone, ephemeral. These people are no longer a part of me, and thank God.
Millie’s Trust. From tragedy to hope.
Hope for life is what Millie’s Trust can give us all. It was a Trust set up out of a nursery tragedy.
Millie's Trust was created by the parents of Millie Thompson who tragically passed away in a choking incident in October 2012.
"As parents of a child ourselves we believe that everyone should have access to First Aid Training no matter what their situation in life is. We aim to make First Aid training readily available for minimal costs and in as many places as possible."
Joanne and Dan Thompson
It is this statement that sums up Millie’s Trust that came into first contact with in May of this year. Dan and Joanne, and I have been lucky to have met and been taught by them both, set up the Trust after the tragic death of their daughter due to a choking incident and sadly a lack of first aid knowledge.
The courses that the Trust provide are excellent, in terms of topic and content, application, and delivery by the team who speak with a passion and knowledge of saving lives.
We are very passionate about teaching our First Aid courses as we want to make sure that if anyone who has been trained on one of our courses is ever in a situation where they need to administer any type of First Aid, that they have confidence to be able to deal with the patient - no matter what the situation" Joanne May 2014
And this is hope. There is hope for life, any life, but knowledge is power, and it is important that more people acquire this knowledge. We are all guilty of relying to much on 999 and the emergency services. But then why would we do otherwise, this is how we are trained. But in that time when the professionals are on their way, we own that time and with courage can do something, and that something can be to save a life by keeping someone alive. Do something special when you read this, and sign up for one of the first aid courses.
