From Tangiers to Tiree.

16 years ago, Spook and I went on a Fly/Drive to Morroco with friends. We flew into Tangiers and hired a Desert Camel (aka Renault 4). It was a great adventure and we ended it with 3 days at another friends beautiful house in Spain. Just before taking the ferry to Spain, we had drunk lot's of freshly squeezed orange juice with ice and had to be nursed back to health by dear Sophie of the Spanish hoose. She said it was all my fault and if they had any sense, they would avoid holidays with me in the future and go straight to hers. The day of our flight home from Tangiers, we took an early ferry back to North Africa. Unfortunately, the first 5 ferries went on strike and we watched the clock tick away the hours until our flight, whilst we were reassured the strike would be over any minute. We finally boarded the last ferry that could possibly have got us back in time for our flight and all leaned forward at the bow of the boat - not quite with the grace of Rose, who hadn't told us her story about the Titanic at that point but more with a sweaty sense of urgency, as we watched the very bright beach lights of Tangier not get any closer. No-one could tell us which side we would be docking until the last minute, where we managed to get to the front of the queue. To the horror of security, we started a stampede as we dashed off the boat - everyone must have thought it was about to blow up, such was the panic on our faces, and all passengers disembarked at high speed. We were grabbed by the stunned Terminal personnel, and after a quick questioning and tears from one of our party, they took pity and sent us on our way. Reassurance from the taxi driver that he would get us to the airport in time ('time' being in dispute as we were now well inside the 2hrs before departure time), he promptly put his car into reverse and crawled his way through all the road works to get us there 20 minutes before departure. The ladies and gentlemen of airport security had their feet up drinking mint tea, when we raced up to the desk. We could see all our airplane companions sitting on the other side, African artefacts and scarfs hanging out their bags, a little sad that their adventure had come to an end. The biggest questioning we endured here, while they flicked through our bags, was why we had felt it necessary to leave their beautiful country during our holiday. I charmed my way through the interview in my quaint French (which had me increasing prices earlier in the holiday, whilst haggling, as I cant count in any language), and managed to convince them that my forceful friend in Spain had insisted we visit as we were so close (sorry Sophie.) In reality, with MY French, I don't know what I said, but they laughed and let us on the plane. It was good that I hadn't actually sold the other female in our party.

This story often comes to mind when I encounter all the security of today. But it particularly came back to me when I got a postcard from Tiree. Laura and Paddy, who are the same age now as we were then, were late for their ferry. The big ferry isn't working, so a wee ferry is in operation. They screeched up to the gangway, to be told there was no room for their car. The nice men, (no doubt on seeing the smiliest faces they ever saw) let them run on the ferry, abandoning their car on the gangway, and brought it over for them the next day. I know Tiree is not a high security risk, but it is good to know that such hospitality still exists in the world of transport.

But to the week that was. The River Race was followed the next weekend by The Downhill Endurance. I was pretty sure I didn't want to go in the river, but if you were to make me do one or the other, I think I would go in the river!!! Have a look at http://www.nofussevents.co.uk/ and view the video of the Downhill race.

I finally made it to the top of the Ben and took a picture of our house. Note that we are still flying the Kiwi flag, but think we owe it to Scotland to get our own colours out now. Can't see the flag from the top of the Ben, though.

We have had two sunny days since the children broke up from school. Not so good. Spook did the uphill race to the top gondola station, but I was still recovering from The Ben the day before.

This innocent photo was taken just before each child tackled the river. My Fairy God Son (who is slightly bigger than expected - he on one side of me and his littlest brother on the other side), wasn't going to bother but became tempted and went in without a wet suit......so brave. The puppy wanted to go in, but wasn't allowed to.

Everyone Survived!!!!

As soon as the children completed the health and safety aspect of the race and deemed it safe to go ahead, the adults donned their sensible attire and took to the waters. It was an exciting day, full of fun, fear and endorphins. 2 stag parties and many other brave souls tackled the River Nevis in spate. The power of nature was awe-inspiring and the 6 children who did the safety check have a new respect for Mother Nature. Not one of those children would consider getting in that river again without full adult support and every bouyancy aid available! If indeed they would actually go back in.

It was a very busy week after Finn and I's quiet weekend. We had great fun being 13yr olds together, but he took a big exception to me turning back into his mother and insisting he eat his veg once the weekend was over.

The Guru came to stay with her husband and 3 children, which includes my Fairy God Son. He is so called because I am not allowed a Godchild, but am allowed to be a Fairy Godmother. The whole family became embroiled in the preparations for the River Race (thanks for the photo's Mel and sorry we put all your children down The Gurgle Section.) I'm not really sure how I would have managed my part without them.

Andy McCandlish provided the photo's of the actual race day.

Glen Nevis, on our way home from the wee dip in The Gurgle - part of the River Nevis.

Spook, in his element.

Honest to goodness. ~The things No Fuss will do for a photo opportunity that ideally doesn't get their feet wet. This was about checking the river before the actual River Race......I suppose if the children survived, it seemed reasonable the adults would.

No, no, no, I've changed my mind.

Ma wee boy!!!!

The level of the River Nevis went down a bit after Finn's dip, and Finn filled up.

Hmmmmmmm...........

It looked so easy at this angle - oh the naivety of it all. Finlay, aged 9.

Carrot top.

Daughter and husband have gone south for a few days and me and this fellow have been left at home for a few days off DVD's and junk food (apart from the caterpillars and carrots.)Last nights film was set post apocolypse America and was up there amongst the bleakest of movies ever. Finn chose it because Aragon (Viggo Wotsit) was in it and presumably to punish me for making him watch Schindlers List. Tonight is My Lovely Bones (my choice.) Tomorrow night will depend on many things.

the taster getting ready.

And the tomatoes will turn red and taste lovely - some day.

some day, these may even yield sweetcorn.

soft focussing out the mildewy bits of the tunnel.

I wish cropping photo's and tweeking the colour was as easy as gardening.

NOt the tidiest looking tunnel you ever saw, nor the most productive, but likewise the house.

Lot's of things growing in the polytunnel and some of them are not weeds. Some are even edible - including some of the weeds (sorrel.) The rocket I rescued and replanted from the Kiwi occupants of the past shot because I didn't think to pinch the tops. Still some tasty bits, though there was a big caterpillar in the bit I offered Finn, so he's off rocket for life. Shame about that. The brocoli doesn't look remotely like brocoli, but maybe it is the slow grower that will be ready for Spring. The nasturtiums were for the slugs to eat, but the toads have eaten most of the slugs, so they are doing quite well.

Dougie Lampkin.