Month: March 2026

Week in Review – March 29th, 2026

Second week in San Sebastian

Monday was a bit of a fancy and refined day here.  Diana started with her usual walk/run along the beach.  We went grocery shopping in the afternoon and stopped in for a mid-afternoon drink at La Cervezeria around the corner.  I got a kick out of the young girl next to us taking videos of herself eating pintxos – typical of the generation.
I found a martini bar and we gave it a try.  It’s inside a very fancy hotel and did indeed make a very good martini.  Bette Davis made one of her final appearances at this hotel to accept an award.
We walked from the martini bar over to dinner at Bernardo Extea.  I found this place through searches for good seafood restaurants.  This place was described as the best seafood in a quiet and unpretentious setting – perfect.  It turned out to be just so.  Our waiter’s recommendations were very good.  Diana had shrimp carpaccio for an appetizer, and I had a half portion of foie gras – still a lot.
Diana had tri-colour scallops for her main and I enjoyed a wonderful grilled monkfish (another waiter recommendation):
There was an ecossaise (Scottish) coffee on the menu and so I had to give it a try – very similar to a cafe liegeois with whisky added.
Here’s Diana as we were leaving with the restaurant sign:
And here she is walking home through the lovely tunnel close to our apartment (usually has a musician during the day).  We couldn’t find the taxi rank by the restaurant and so walked home.
On Tuesday, we made a day trip to Bilbao with the primary intent of visiting the Guggenheim art museum.
On our walk from the bus station to the Guggenheim, we passed the Maurice Ravel school.  I looked up the Ravel/Bilbao connection:
I had no idea about that connection.  We visited the town his Mum was from last week on our drive back from Biarritz.
I wondered about the connection between the Manhattan and Bilbao Guggenheim museums and looked that up too:
“The Bilbao effect” – how interesting.
I will say that on our 1.5 mile walk from the bus station to the museum, it was very clear that we were in a big city versus the enclave of San Sebastian – people speak much louder, car horns honk and so on.  We have been so spoiled by the peacefulness of our location.
We were just talking about the museum, and Diana says it is definitely the best one that she’s been to “inside and out.”  The Frank Gehry architecture is truly amazing.  Here are some pictures, including the flower ensconced “Puppy.”
The exhibits inside were equally impressive and unique. The first one that we visited was called “The Matter of Time” by Richard Serra.  All the guides said that if we only saw one thing, this should be it.
The exhibit was huge and you certainly did lose perspective when walking through the curved steel structures.
Here’s a view from above to give some scale:
I really enjoyed the visiting exhibit from Ruth Asawa who creates sculptures from wire.
You can look at the sculptures for a while and still struggle to see how she put them together.  This exhibit made me think of Finn’s fiancée, Holly, who also creates 3D scultpures.
“And the City Stood in its Brightness” by Mark Leckey was a multi-media exhibit with the city, music, and light all playing together.
 I didn’t capture the name of the artist who created the light box mirror art.  It was amazing inside.
Here’s one last picture from the museum – me posing with “maman”:
After browsing the museum, we had lunch (the ensalada mixta is a new favourite) and then walked to the funicular to get a view from above the city.  The red Bilbao sign at the start of this message was at the top.  Diana got this picture of the Guggenheim from above.
The bus (with zero legroom) dropped us back in San Sebastian just before 7pm.  It was good to relax and stretch out.
I made another attempt to taste the Turkish eggs at Cafe Somos on Wednesday morning.  The last time I tried the small place was packed with no available tables.  The weather was not as great on Wednesday – overcast and a bit cooler, so I was able to get an outside table with no problem.
Such a delicious breakfast.
On the walk back to the apartment, I snapped this picture of Diana’s favourite bakery – the baguette available around 4pm and just warm from the oven is the best that I’ve had.
We braved the elements for a late lunch at La Perla, the fancy beachfront restaurant (the only one built on the beach.)  Here’s the Nook of the North just before we entered:
The view of the bay from the table was very nice.
I took advantage of all the mirrors to capture a silly selfie:
Lunch was yet another gastronomic delight.  We started with truffled egg and mushrooms – amazing.  Do you know how they make a truffled egg?  I just learned on this trip – they sit truffles on top of the eggs for several days and the flavour of the truffle seeps into the eggs.
That was followed by octopus on a smoky paprika sauce – also amazingly good.
A pretty restaurant on the beach could easily serve mediocre food at a high price.  La Perla does neither – creative, beautifully cooked, and reasonably priced.
Back at the apartment, we watched an episode of “Parts Unknown” where Anthony Bourdain explains why San Sebastian is the best place to eat in Europe.  It was fun to see him rambling through the places that we have enjoyed.
This protest passed by the street in front of our apartment before we headed out to lunch.  We guess it was a Palestinian protest from the flags:
We did the usual walk down to Old Town in the afternoon on Thursday – Bar Sport had just reopened and we had a couple of specific pintxos there that we were looking forward to trying.  One was recommended by Chandler who just opened a new Basque restaurant in New Orleans.  He visited San Sebastian for “research” prior to opening and loved the foie gras at Bar Sport.  This is the most popular pintxo bar and was still busy when we showed up deep into siesta time.  We started with the cream of sea urchin – something completely new and delicious.
That was followed by the much-vaunted foie gras a la plancha.  Equally delicious and worth braving the bustle of the establishment.
I popped into a barber shop for a beard trim and ended up getting an overall trim.  The barber was originally from Nicaragua, spent ages 15-19 in Minnesota and ended up in San Sebastian.  Really interesting guy who was quite the perfectionist with my beard.
We had a couple of more pintxos and then a coffee at one of the lovely Parisian style outdoor cafes on the square.  Then I helped Diana find the shop with the top she wanted to buy, picked up a slice of Basque cheesecake to try before we left, and some wonderful art.
David Bowie was on the beach today:
Diana suggested a final stop at La Perla on the walk back and we captured some last beach pictures.
And we weren’t quite finished yet.  “I just want one more of those tuna tartare pintxos from the Cervezeria across from the apartment.”  Diana’s favourite food groups:
Doesn’t look like tuna?  I know – they had a steak tartare special that couldn’t be resisted.  Quickly followed by the tuna:
Friday was a full and relatively smooth travel day.  Taxi from apartment to bus station (10 minutes), bus to Bilbao airport (1 hour 15 minutes), flight to Amsterdam (2 hours), layover and hike to next gate in Amsterdam (2 hours), flight to Glasgow (1 hour), bumble around trying to get eSIM to work (30 minutes), taxi to Mum’s home (40 minutes).  Time to relax – ahhh.
My brother-in-law, David, turned 60 years old on Saturday and Mum organized a lovely lunch at the Blair to celebrate.  This is a delicious restaurant out in the country on the way to Kilwinning.  It was noted that the twisty country road to get there was “not appropriate for speeding.”
We found a 3D creative picture for David in San Sebastian.  That’s the local beach in the background and then beachgoers and finally Sean Connery and his Aston Martin with surfboard in the foreground.
Back at the house, David showed that he still has sufficient oomph to blow out the candle:
My grandnephew, Hamish, was having a great time with the attention from everybody:
He’s such a happy and easy wee boy.
Sunday was a quiet and relaxing day with pretty miserable weather, interspersed with brief periods of sunshine.  A cold wind and rain kept us inside most of the day, with Diana starting a jigsaw puzzle.
Missing New Orleans, and particularly the omnipresent live music, I reread “Groove Interrupted – Loss, Renewal, and the Music of New Orleans” by Keith Spera.  He covers music for the local newspaper and I really love his writing.  Here’s an online summary before I dive into some of the quotes from the chapters about how local musicians were impacted by Hurricane Katrina:
“The recent history of New Orleans is fraught with tragedy and triumph. Both are reflected in the city’s vibrant, idiosyncratic music community. In Keith Spera’s intimately reported Groove Interrupted, Aaron Neville returns to New Orleans for the first time after Hurricane Katrina to bury his wife. Fats Domino improbably rambles around Manhattan to promote a post-Katrina tribute CD. Alex Chilton lives anonymously in a battered cottage in the Treme neighborhood. Platinum-selling rapper Mystikal rekindles his career after six years in prison. Jazz trumpeter Terence Blanchard struggles to translate Katrina into music. The spotlight also shines on Allen Toussaint, Pete Fountain, Gatemouth Brown, the Rebirth Brass Band, Phil Anselmo, Juvenile, Jeremy Davenport and the 2006 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival. With heartache, hope, humor and resolve, each of these contemporary narratives stands on its own. Together, they convey that the funky, syncopated spirit of New Orleans music is unbreakable, in spite of Katrina’s interruption.”
A description at the start of the book:
“Often described as the northernmost point of the Caribbean, New Orleans is unique among North American cities. A commingling of French, Spanish and various African cultures—coupled with a port town’s naturally decadent inclinations—cultivated a healthy appetite for food and music. The vibrant, idiosyncratic music community is essential to its hometown’s
identity, and to the larger world of popular music.”
I agree with Dave Matthews on the “most musical city”:
“The Dave Matthews Band recorded its Big Whiskey & the GrooGrux King CD in New Orleans in 2009. Matthews, a frequent visitor, subsequently declared New Orleans “the most musical city that I’ve ever been to. Somehow it’s in the roots and in the ground in New Orleans. It’s in the blood. It’s in the celebration, and the suffering.” The recent history of New Orleans, of course, contains plenty of both.”
Some passages about the immediate aftermath of Katrina:
“Roaming Uptown the day after the storm, I was heartened to discover Tipitina’s, the city’s flagship music club, largely undisturbed on a swath of high, dry ground along the Mississippi River. From the street, the nearby home of legendary keyboardist Art Neville—founder of seminal funk band the Meters, a Neville Brother, and one of New Orleans’ most beloved musicians—also appeared undamaged.”
“The earliest post-storm gigs, such as blues/ funk/ soul guitarist Walter “Wolfman” Washington’s at the Maple Leaf, were powered by generators and cut short by curfews.”
“Katrina blew Soul Rebels Brass Band snare drummer Lumar LeBlanc and trumpeter Marcus Hubbard to Houston. They found housing, enrolled their kids in school and decided to stay. But six-plus years after Katrina, they still drive 350 miles each way between Houston and New Orleans for the Rebels’ weekly Thursday night gig at Le Bon Temps Roule, a roadhouse-like bar on Magazine Street. Maintaining that connection is essential, whatever the toll on their vehicles’ odometers. “We still consider New Orleans our home,” LeBlanc said. “I’m New Orleans till the day I die.””
A passage about Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown featuring two fo my favourite musicians, Marcia Ball and Joe Krown:
“The next night, he accompanied Krown to the fabled New Orleans nightclub Tipitina’s to see Austin rhythm-and-blues pianist Marcia Ball, an old friend. Ball embraced Brown for a long good-bye hug. “Gate’s going out the way he wants—in the clubs,” Krown said. “It’s not even about playing. He just wants to be out there, around music he likes, as much as he possibly can. And he’s doing exactly that.””
Some words about the 2006 Jazzfest, the first after Katrina:
“On the festival’s first Sunday, my wife and I stood in the field facing the main Acura Stage alongside a half-dozen writers and journalists. Like me, they had witnessed countless concerts, and were not easily moved. By the conclusion of Springsteen’s tour de force with his Seeger Sessions Band, all of us—myself, my wife, the other writers—were weeping. It felt wonderful.”
“For two glorious hours, Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions ensemble—six horns, a banjo, accordion, pedal steel guitar, fiddles, piano—invigorated vintage folk and protest songs. Few others in popular music could craft a show that spoke so eloquently to the city’s struggles, both welcome distraction and poignant reminder.
Eyes closed, Springsteen rededicated “My City of Ruins,” originally written as a eulogy for Asbury Park, New Jersey, to New Orleans. To a hushed, riveted audience, he described scenes of desolation that sounded all too familiar: “The rain is falling down … the boarded-up windows, the hustlers and the thieves … now tell me how do I begin again?” And then the refrain: “Come on, rise up! Rise up!”
Thousands of weary New Orleanians let the lyrics wash over them like a baptism. The personal pronoun of the title gave them voice: My city of ruins. Those in need of someone to express the anger, frustration, grief and resolve expended over the previous eight months had found their man. Fists were raised and tears were shed as Springsteen delivered a Jazz Fest moment for the ages.
But he thought two lesser-known verses might be appropriate. With that, he unspooled “When the Saints Go Marching In” not as a boisterous, high-kicking second-line parade, but as an acoustic prayer delivered in a desperate hour. Face clenched, he sought the promised land: “Now some say this world of trouble is the only world we’ll ever see/ But I’m waiting for that moment when the new world is revealed.” No other artist could have spoken to, and for, the city of New Orleans more purposefully, passionately and effectively than Bruce Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions Band. Years later, people still talk about it. “They should talk about that forever,” Davis said. “I thought it was one of the most extraordinary things I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen thousands of shows. Reverend Springsteen held church, and ministered to a flock.” Dave Malone, the guitarist and vocalist for veteran New Orleans roots rock/ funk/ R& B jam band the Radiators, had never experienced Springsteen live before Jazz Fest. “The cynical part of me thought it would be hokey—some Pete Seeger stuff can be dated. But that guy has some kind of magnetism I can’t explain. His delivery and band were incredible. It was one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life. I was sitting there crying like a third-grader.”
I have a lot of other highlighted sections about other musicians and their travails during and after Katrina, but I’m going to keep them to myself so as not to dilute the Springsteen commentary.
I don’t remember what got me on a Ry Cooder kick this week but I’m glad it happened.  I love this concert for New Orleans:
There are a lot of other great Cooder videos out on YouTube that I had not seen until this week.

 

Week in Review – March 22nd, 2026

“First Week in San Sebastian”

Now that we’ve landed in the Basque region, you might be wondering where that is exactly and what the history of that region involves.  Here’s a map of the region – a small portion of what is now northeastern Spain and southwestern France:

Here’s an online summary of the extensive history of the region that helps one understand why these people have been pushing for recognition and independence for so long:

Monday lunch was at Rekondo.  This was a fancy restaurant (one tier below the very fancy Michelin star places) that was recommended to Denny by a shopkeeper in Old Town on Sunday.  The wine cellar is reported to be the best in Europe.  We had a tour after lunch, and it was extremely impressive.

They did not encourage photos and so I wasn’t able to get the fancy entry part.

The wine list that we were presented was at least an inch thick and very intimidating.  Thankfully, they had a list of about six recommendations on the food menu.  The champagne was $26 which we assumed was for a fancy glass, and were pleased to find was for a bottle.

I had the black pudding ravioli with truffle to start and then the suckling pig with the fancy pineapple crisp.  Both wonderful.

Here we are outside the restaurant and fully sated:

We had heard that the shops and restaurants would be mostly closed on Tuesday for a “protest strike.”  Denny decided to rent a car and drive to Biarritz in France for the day.  This was a short and relatively easy drive, and we arrived at the fancy beach in the late morning.

Biarritz appeared to be a combination of a very fancy, elegant town and a surf destination.  The breaks were very impressive all the way up and down the coast from the town.

There was a travel poster from La Baule in our apartment, and this and discussion of the waves at Biarritz reminded Mum of a day that Dad and I had spent enjoying the waves at the La Baule beach – much to the concern of Mum and Elspeth as we disappeared in the swells.

 

 

I had lunch at a cafe on a square in the center of Biarritz – a tasty veggie galette.

This bar window in Biarritz reminded us that we were still in Basque country:

After that snack, Denny drove us down the coast to Saint Jean de Luz.  We had lunch at a small restaurant recommended by AI – we would never have found it (hidden on a back street) without help.

Returning to San Sebastian, we were entertained to find the beach in front of our apartment very busy with folks enjoying the sun.

Diana made her way to a store to purchase a San Sebastian beach towel so that she could join the sun worshippers.  The following days were not quite as hot but she gave it a good try.

Denny and Anne left for the airport on Wednesday morning.  They were flying to London, spending the night, and then on to New Orleans on Thursday.  We were sorry to see them go and the apartment seemed quiet.

A ride on the funicular was highly recommended by Denny before he left.  We gave that a shot on Wednesday afternoon but caught it during siesta nap time.  Lunch seemed like a good alternative plan, and we shared a couple of salads at the nearby Wimbledon tennis club.

We found the local jazz club for Wednesday night entertainment.  It is called Altxerri – pronounced Alcherry and meaning “treasure” in Basque.
I was shocked at the low price of enjoying the music as compared to what we typically pay – 5 Euros for entry and 7 Euros for cocktails made with great care.
How was the music?
I really enjoyed it all.  There was a trio to start out and then they rotated students from the Musikene (local music school that seems to have a wonderful reputation and has amazing visiting international guests).  Here’s the initial trio.  I thought the drummer and the bass player were great, with the piano player doing well but missing dynamics and change to capture attention:
Then came a saxophone student:
And finally, my favourite musician of the night, a wonderful young pianist with an amazing finger span and technique:
What an enjoyable and unexpected night.
We visited Old Town for a pintxo lunch again on Thursday.  Irulegi was our first stop again and this time I tried their foie gras – just as delicious as everywhere else.
Then we walked around the corner to my favourite, Casa Urola for some more.
We made it all the way back around the bay to the funicular before siesta time.  The views from the top were well worth the effort as advertised by Denny.
The funicular originally opened in the 1920s and I don’t think has changed dramatically since then:
After the funicular we walked to the end of the point to watch the breaking wave spray and to look at the sculpture – the “Wind’s Comb.”
I tried to eat at Somos Cafe on Friday morning (their Turkish eggs sounded good) but arrived too late – it was fully loaded with locals enjoying breakfast when I got there around half past ten.  The BB cafe across the street was a good second choice.
On the walk to breakfast, I saw my first fish shop and chuckled.  I had just asked Diana the previous night about where people bought meat and fish.  The pescaderia was a bit intimidating with all the full fish waiting to be prepared for you.
I also saw these lovely blossoms on the walk:
We ate at El Bistro Ondaretta on Friday night.  Ondaretta is the area of town where our apartment is located and so this was less than a five-minute walk.  The restaurant is small and is run by a husband-and-wife couple.
Boeuf Bourguignon was a special and I was tempted but nervous that it wouldn’t be as good as Mum’s.
The menu was small but had plenty of things that sounded good to us.  What do you think we chose?
Are you ready to hear our choices?
Ok, Diana had the foie gras (shocking, I know) followed by the scallops – they’re smaller here but delicious.  I enjoyed the Pate de Campagna and cod in a delicious beurre blanc sauce.  We were very happy with our selections.
Saturday was a busy walking day again, covering more than five miles in the morning.  I had committed to giving hiking up to the statue of Jesus a try.  On the way we noticed a bunch of football pitches (8) on the beach.  What a nice setting for the kids.
Here’s some information on the statue:
The Jesus statue, known as the Sacred Heart of Jesus or Cristo de Urgull,
stands atop Monte Urgull, overlooking San Sebastián and La Concha Bay.
I enjoyed the view of the city and beach from the turrets:
It seemed more than 400 feet up there.
Diana rewarded me with an agua con gas at a cafe on the square after our descent.  Then we stopped into a restaurant that we were hoping to try for dinner on Monday night to make a reservation.  Diana was able to get that all sorted and we’re looking forward to it.
We decided to check out the fancy building next to us on Sunday afternoon.  This is called the “Palais d’Ete a San Sebastian” and was designed by the English architect Selden Wornum in the late 1800s.  The flower beds were very pretty.
We revisited the music club, Altxerri again on Sunday evening, this time for some blues music.
Just like last time, the musicians were top notch on piano and harmonicas:
My first book this week was “The Future Saints” by Ashley Winstead.  The reviews made this sound quite appealing, but I gave up early on.  It was like a bubblegum pop book and nothing close to what I was hoping for and expecting.  The comparisons to “Daisy Jones and the Six” should have tipped me off – I really didn’t enjoy that book either.
I switched over to “The Rest of Our Lives” by Ben Markovits.  This was much more my speed.  I realized a little into the read that I had previously read “Christmas in Austin” by Markovits and really enjoyed it.
Here’s an online summary of the plot:

“When Tom Layward’s wife had an affair twelve years ago, he resolved to leave her as soon as his youngest child left the nest. Now, while driving his college-bound daughter to Pittsburgh, he remembers his promise to himself. He is also on the run from his own health issues and a forced leave from work.

So, rather than returning to his wife in Westchester, Tom keeps driving west, with the vague plan of visiting people from his past—an old college friend, his ex-girlfriend, his brother, his son—en route, maybe, to California. He’s moving towards a future he hasn’t even envisioned yet while he considers his past and the choices he’s made that have brought him to this particular present. Pitch-perfect, tender, and keenly observed, The Rest of Our Lives is a story about what to do when the rest of your life is only just the beginning of your story.”

Some passages that I highlighted:
“You know they’re…we’re supposed to add a line under our university emails, which says like, he/his/him, which I refuse to do.  So I got an email from the compliance officer.”
“There’s no such thing as a compliance officer,” Miri said.
“Anyway, I started signing off with he/I/mine.  So I get another email and have to explain myself.  I don’t like being referred to in the accusative.  It literally objectifies I.”
This made me smile given some of the discussions Diana and I have had about including pronouns in email signatures and the like.  Neither of us ever did and thankfully no longer have anyone to tell us that it’s required.
An interesting passage on Father and Daughter musical tastes:
“The music she was into was eighties synthy stuff, songs like “Tainted Love” and bands like the Eurythmics.  She liked them in a retro ironic way, because they had amped-up sounds and emotions, which she could pretend to have and make fun of at the same time.  Technically, I guess, this was my musical era, but I was more of a Springsteen fan or even John Cougar Mellencamp, what Miri called corny, depressing white-guy music, with a slow banging beat and strummy guitar.  But, you know, where the baisc goal is authenticity.  Good road-trip music, especially if you’re taking 80 West through Pennsylvania.  Whatever, I let her play what she wanted.  Like “Chains of Love,” which I remember hating when it came out, around the time of my high school prom, where I did not have a good time.”
The concept of arguing “with another person in the room” gave me a chuckle.
“”Have you talked to Amy?” he asked suddenly.
“About what?”
“I thought you said you guys had a fight.”
“I called her last night.  But I don’t know if we had a fight.”  I tried to explain myself.  “For the past…I don’t know, two or three years, she’s been seeing a therapist, which means when you argue with Amy, it’s like there’s this other person in the room, who’s a certified expert, and you have to argue with her, too.  But we didn’t really argue, we disagreed.””
Describing one of my most hated experiences, having an MRI.  Maybe I need to recite poetry in my head:
“The whole thing took about ten minutes, that’s what they told me beforehand.  So I tried to work out how long ten minutes is.  You have to keep very still.  Also, I was supposed to hold my arms over my head and that turned out to be difficult.  The pins and needles began almost immediately.  By the end my arms felt like rolled-up sailcloth, dead weights.  Sometimes I had to breathe in and hold my breath, then let it out when they told me to.  A voice spoke to me from the tube.  But there were also periods of silence.
This is what I thought about.  I tried to concentrate on specific things.  Poems I had memorized in high school.  The Raven…Once upon a midnight dreary, until it broke down.  Whose woods these are I think I know.  Ozymandias.  Nothing beside remains…Famous moments in sports from my childhood.  Jordan switching to his left hand midair against the Lakers…Lorenzo Charles catching Derek Whittenburg’s airball and dunking it home as time expired to win the 1983 National Championship.  I imagined Jimmy Valvano running like a man released onto the court, looking for people to hug.  A few years later he was dead of cancer.  All of this added up to maybe six minutes’ worth of material, then I went back to the beginning.
Then it was over; the bed I lay on quietly slid out of the tube.”
I watched a video this week of David Byrne on Colbert, performing “When we are singing”:
I’m looking forward to this group playing at Jazzfest in a few weeks.

Week in Review – March 15th, 2026

“Touring the Scottish Highlands”

Monday was a day of rest after all the wedding excitement.  It was a typically cold and wet day and, as it turns out, a good example of what to expect for the rest of the week.  I worked on train tickets from Stewarton to Edinburgh, and was pleased to find a route that didn’t involve changing from Central to Queen St stations in Glasgow – not really much fun with luggage for Scotland and Spain.  That pleasure didn’t last long as I saw a news story showing a fire in Central station caused by a neighbouring vape shop.  It did not look like trains would be running from there for a while.  A call to British Rail was no help – they seemed to think it would all be good the next day. I knew it wouldn’t and so arranged a taxi to take us through to Queen St station where we could catch the train directly to Edinburgh.

Arriving in Edinburgh, we caught a taxi to the Apex hotel in the Grassmarket to meet up with the krewe (Denny, Anne, Todd and Lori.)  We enjoyed lunch at the Beehive – directly across the street from what used to be the Heriot Watt university electrical engineering building (last visited by me, via this ramp, in 1985 to view my degree results pinned to the wall.)

Denny had to do some “work” in the afternoon and the rest of the group walked up to the Natural History museum, stopping to pat Greyfriars Bobby on the way.

What a lot of interesting and varied things in the museum.  One attraction weighed you and then told you what animal you were closest to in heft.  Our results – an ostrich, a penguin, an anteater, and a porpoise.  I’m going to let you imagine who has which spirit animal.

I found an interesting creature in a space suit.  Penguin or anteater?

We made our way up to the rooftop and enjoyed some great views of the Edinburgh skyline.  Those white lines are the Hillend dry ski slope where I was able to break an ankle and a wrist during my university years.

Here’s the dome of the Usher Hall – an excellent music and performance venue where I saw  several concerts – Joan Armatrading is the one that sticks with me, and also performed a piece for brass band, choir, and organ with a broken ankle (this one from some hooligans in Glasgow, not the dry ski slope.)

I like this picture of McD with the castle behind, although her face may give a wee hint of being a bit scunnered with the weather.

A pretty view down to the Balmoral hotel and firth.

We decided to walk down to the Balmoral and see if they had a nice lobby bar.  Indeed they did and we enjoyed some fancy cocktails.

After a quick refresh at the hotel, we walked up the stairs to The Witchery for a fancy dinner in the ancient setting next to the castle esplanade.

I loved my red deer dinner:

After dinner we paid a visit to Deacon Brodie’s pub.  The krewe had been on a catacombs tour the night before and were well versed in the two personalities, serving as the inspiration for Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Wednesday started with a full cooked breakfast at the hotel.   One of our group didn’t like the idea of baked beans on their breakfast plate.  At least they were secured in a bowl rather than spilling around all the other goodies.

It was pouring as we tried to enjoy the view with our breakfast.

No reason to worry – as happened throughout our tour, the weather cleared up and the sun came out a few minutes later.

That allowed Denny to help me go and retrieve our rental van.  We loaded up and I was successful in getting us out of Edinburgh with no major wrong side of the road drama.  We drove past the kelpies at Falkirk:

Then past Stirling castle, before pulling in to Doune castle.  This is where much of Monty Python and the Holy Grail was shot, as well as some of the scenes from Outlander.

We enjoyed the audio tour, although some were disappointed that the ramparts were closed for maintenance.

We had a walk around the castle area, down to the river and along the path.  One of us tried hard to lose their phone on the excursion (not the one in this picture.)

It was a short drive to Callander (gateway to the Highlands) and a stop for lunch at an Indian restaurant that Denny had found.

I know, an interesting choice and Scotland does have some wonderful Indian restaurants.  I enjoyed the murals in the tiny bar in front of the restaurant.  “The Big Yin” (Billy Conolly) and the Irn Bru slogan:

We enjoyed the shopping in Callander for a while – I think everyone made a purchase of some kind – nice shirts for the boys.

The weather deteriorated pretty quickly as we left Callander for Glencoe.  The photo stops in Glencoe were pretty quick affairs:

We navigated through the ever changing weather and ultimately arrived in Fort William.   We tried The Geographer for dinner but alas it was fully booked on a Tuesday, outside of tourist season, in horrible weather – must be as good as the reviews say, or the only game in town.  The Nevis bar across the street accommodated us nicely.  I really liked the haggis nachos and Diana enjoyed some mussels.

The “Heilan Coo” had been the topic of much discussion on the drive and none had been spotted.  Denny used his AI buddy, “Chad”, to find the best place to see some as we departed Fort William on Thursday morning.

Turns out the best place was in the Nevis valley, right around the corner from the hotel.  We found some quickly and jumped out to take some pictures with Ben Nevis (tallest mountain in Scotland) in the misty clouds behind.

Next stop was the West Highland museum located in central Fort William.  A small but interesting place.  The thing I remember most was a video of a Model T Ford being driven up Ben Nevis.

We drove down the coast from Fort William towards Oban, stopping at the second castle featured in the Monty Python movie.  It can’t be reached when the tide is in.

A very nice and casual lunch was had at the Poppy’s garden center outside of Oban.  We decided that driving back to Fort William to spend the night was a bad idea and found the lovely Perle hotel on the waterfront in Oban.

We had planned a tour of the Oban distillery in the afternoon.  Unfortunately, like other places, they were taking advantage of the low tourist season to make some upgrades – adding an elevator and other construction.  This meant no tours.  However, the very pleasant tasting room was open and we availed ourselves of that feature.

 

We stopped into the Oban Inn on the harbour and Anne got a recommendation for a seafood restaurant – EE-USK (Gaelic for fish?) – just around the corner on the waterfront.    Anne secured us reservations and we had a lovely meal.  I started with the scallop gratin and then had a three fish sampler – sea bass, sole, and hake.  Diana had some briny oysters.

The view from the Oban harbour was something:

We made our way back to Edinburgh airport on Friday morning.  I enjoyed a nice roll with egg and sausage from the cafe around the corner before starting the drive.  We had a reservation at the Loch Fyne Oyster restaurant and got there a bit early.  Denny suggested a walk amongst the tallest trees in Europe that were just around the loch.

We had a short walk and didn’t find the tallest trees – highly suspect to begin with.  Inverary castle was closed for the season and so we couldn’t get in to take a look at that either.

Another excellent meal ensued at Loch Fyne oysters.  Seafood and bacon soup, potato fritters, oysters Rockefeller, and salmon three or four ways.  All delicious.

We drove on down to Loch Lomond, with an initial stop at Firkin point for some pretty views.

A little further down was Luss – a very busy place in the summer, but quiet when we stopped for a coffee.

Denny accompanied me to return the bus – can’t say I was totally sorry to get rid of it.  Worked out well for us, just a bit of a work.  An easy dinner at the Doubletree hotel was next, with great service from Bulgarian Vladimir.  I posed for this picture that Denny enjoys:

We had a relatively early start on Saturday to catch our flight to Amsterdam and then Bilbao.  We just missed the bus to San Sebastian on arrival at Bilbao – the ticket process was not self evident.  We were quite travel weary on arrival at the apartment.

Sunday in San Sebastian began with pastries at an outstanding bakery around the corner from our apartment.  Turns out there were many just as good in a very small radius.

Then we walked along the beach front, around the point, and arrived in Old Town.

Tour guide Denny selecting first pintxo stop

We sampled pintxos from three different places – all amazing and different.  Denny had done the usual helpful research to guide us to the best options.

Pintxo stop #1

Here’s a view of the pintxo cases at stop #1 – get in ma belly!

Pintxo stop #2

Pintxo stop #3

This was my favourite and we returned several times.  Great hot pintxos and excellent service.

The steak with potato foam and red pepper was a highlight:

Arriving home, we had covered six miles.   Not quite enough for Anne – she was off to check out the tennis place on the other side of the beach.

No time for reading this week.   Hoping to get back to it when things settle down a bit next week.

Some music that was playing on our Highlands tour:

 

 

Week in Review – March 8th, 2026

“Struan and Emily’s Wedding”

Our five week European excursion was anchored by Struan and Emily’s wedding the first weekend.  The trip over on Wednesday was completely smooth, even Heathrow seemed easier and friendlier than we remembered.  I ask again, how does British Airways server better food in less than an hour than they do on an eight hour overnight flight?  The service and efficiency on those shuttle flights are excellent.  We had our usual taxi driver who is always very pleasant to chat with.

On Thursday, I drove to Kilmarnock to pick up Hamish’s wee kilt and jacket.  It had already been collected by Michael’s mum and dad.  Oh well, it gave me a chance to ease into my left hand side of the road driving – only one attempt to get on the wrong side of the road and one curb hit.  The kilt was dropped off and I had a nice visit with Jim about the upcoming Rush tour.  He has tickets to see them in Glasgow and told me about taking Christopher (now quite an accomplished drummer in several styles) to see them when he was six – promptly went off to sleep.

Here’s a fun “head” from the kilt shop:

On the way home we had coffee at the nice place on Stewarton Main Street.  Mum had sausage rolls (haven’t had one of those in years) for dinner and a yummy rhubarb cake with custard.

I visited the local book shop, now inside the library, on Friday to buy “The Correspondent” for Mother’s Day.  Other than that it was a quiet day of quiz shows and reading ahead of the wedding excitement.  We drove up to the Red Radisson on the Clyde on Friday afternoon.  We met for a drink and snack at the sky bar.

Diana went for a walk along the river before we had to get ready for dinner.

Dinner was at a wonderful Indian restaurant called Dishoom.  Heather had eaten at the Edinburgh location and really enjoyed it.  She did an amazing job of listening to what everyone thought they might like and then creating an order that made everyone very happy.

Certainly one of the best Indian meals that I’ve had in a while – and very different in great ways.  I think Hamish agreed:

We enjoyed breakfast at the Radisson before making the drive over to the Boclair to get ready for the wedding.

We checked into our gorgeous rooms and got ready for the festivities.  Here are some pre-wedding shots:

 

Look at that trio of handsome gentlemen.  Robin and Russell are two of the best guys I know.

After a very nice service, we regrouped and prepared for the reception. Here are the new couple entering the reception behind the bagpipes:

David did the usual wonderful job with his speech.

The first dance:

The dancing picked up pretty quickly – particularly with the “Proud Mary” Tina Turner impression:

And then the Proclaimers “500 miles:

About an hour into the DJ dancing part of the program, a saxophone player emerged and really picked things up several notches:

And then it all finished up with a rousing “Loch Lomond”:

What a fun and exhausting day.

We had breakfast together at Boclair in the morning.  Hamish decided to entertain us as we packed up to leave:

We drove home, via the Clyde tunnel this time, making a stop at the large mall at Silverburn.  This has a large Marks and Spencers and Mum was able to help Diana pick out a new workout jacket (her uniform from M&S has worn out on the zipper after several years of daily use.)  The food options in this store were ridiculous – we have nothing like that in the US.

Later on Sunday afternoon, we went for a walk.  Diana felt a bird splat by the Millhouse and we ducked in to clean it up.  There was an old firm football match on inside and the atmosphere was quite intense.

What a busy and excellent week!

My book this week was “Mona’s Eyes”  by Thomas Schlesser.  I was about to launch into an explanation of the premise, and then realized that the online review can do that better than me:

“Ten-year-old Mona and her beloved grandfather have only fifty-two Wednesdays to visit fifty-two works of art and commit to memory “all that is beautiful in the world” before Mona loses her sight forever.While the doctors can find no explanation for Mona’s brief episode of blindness, they agree that the threat of permanent vision loss cannot be ruled out. The girl’s grandfather, Henry, may not be able to stop his granddaughter from losing her sight, but he can fill the encroaching darkness with beauty. Every Wednesday for a year, the pair abscond together and visit a single masterpiece in one of Paris’s renowned museums. From Botticelli to Basquiat, Mona learns how each artist’s work shaped the world around them. In turn, the young girl’s world is changed forever by the power of their art. Under the kind and careful tutelage of her grandfather, Mona learns the true meaning of generosity, melancholy, love, loss, and revolution. Her perspective will never be the same—nor will the reader’s.

Mona’s Eyes is a heartfelt, enlightening journey across five centuries of Western art history. With the emotional impact of The Elegance of the Hedgehog and the readability of The Little Paris Bookshop, Thomas Schlesser’s sensational debut novel is at once a moving book about the beauty of life and a deeply touching story about the special bond between a girl and her grandfather.”

I was hoping this book would introduce me to some special art that I hadn’t seen before and tell me about it.  Unfortunately, I got bored pretty quickly.  I saved a bunch of highlighted sections and as I review them now they just irritate me, and so I’ll spare you from them.  I enjoy art criticism and background and when it starts to only serve the ego of the speaker of the writer, I’m checked out.

Week in Review – March 1st, 2026

“Mayas!”

The Monday pickleball alarms alerted as usual.  The added excitement this time was that we had no water.  A major pipe (3 to 4 feet in diameter) on a main thoroughfare near us had blown, causing the street to buckle and taking out water for the majority of Uptown New Orleans.  Several schools canceled classes for the day and I decided there was no point in walking to a local coffee shop with my morning newspaper.

We had a productive morning on Tuesday.  I drove over to Metarie, Diana did some Target returns and I bought some clothes for the upcoming trip.  Then we stopped by the jewelry store to pick up the ring they resized for Diana – she seems quite happy with it this time.

I made a breakfast casserole in the afternoon to try and use up left over eggs and veggies from the fridge.  I think it turned out well – I like to add serrano peppers (with the seeds) and extra red pepper flakes to give it a little more heat.

 

 

 

The boil water advisory was finally lifted on Tuesday afternoon – schools were mostly closed Monday and Tuesday.

I loved this article in the Tuesday newspaper.  Keith Spera writes as wonderfully as ever about his Mardi Gras day experience:

Mardi Gras Day as a meerkat

It was interesting to hear on the news that the Tuesday Boston Globe was not published for the first time in 153 years due to the blizzard.  No thank you!

We did well at trivia in the evening.  There is some confusion about whether we were in first or second place.  Tom, the quiz master, announced as winners, and I think he may have miss calculated and another team actually won by one point.  This was the final question – put these four things in order form oldest to most recent:

We were confident about the Cuban missile crisis and the fall of Saigon, but less sure about Star Trek and the 26th amendment.  We decided the 26th amendment was later as it came about after all the Vietnam protests.  The good news is that we worked through it as a team and came up with the correct answer.

I drove Diana over to yoga on Wednesday morning and then enjoyed a walk in the park, meeting back up with her afterwards.  The group seemed to think it was a very good class – they do appreciate Kathleen as an instructor.

I saw a story on the news about the “firefall” waterfall in Yosemite national park.  In February only, sunset lights up this waterfall to wonderful effect:

We met Kenny and Kara at Cafe Degas for Happy Hour.  The two hours passed quickly with good banter and great food and drink at an awesome price.  The weather was good and so the side “windows” were all rolled up for a patio like dining experience.

Thursday started with pickleball for Diana.  That was followed by an afternoon hair appointment.  She laughed because Denny had been slotted into the 30 min time when the dye was in her hair.

It was my turn for a haircut on Friday.  Discussion in Aidan Gill with Derek, my barber, turned to the silly behaviour of the actor Shia LaBeouf during Mardi Gras.  That led to various celebrities in Aidan Gill stories.  My favourites involved Andy Garcia (doing an Al Pacino impression for Derek) and Jude Law looking for a chat with Aidan.

Diana met me at Maya’s across from Aidan Gill for lunch.  She was a bit delayed as Fred dropped off a book for me to read on our trip and then his truck brakes weren’t working.  Poor Fred – trying to do something nice and then had to deal with a big hassle.  Here’s how Maya is described on their website:

I had been wanting to try the very well reviewed seafood tostones – fried green plantains topped with shrimp and crab in a wonderful sauce.  This was amazing – why has it taken over two years of living within walking distance of this little restaurant to try this dish?

Diana loved her tuna tartare also – very fresh with a great presentation.  She got a “crab caprese” to go – the dish is called crab caprichosa and is essentially a caprese salad with crab added.

We enjoyed an after lunch coffee at Piety and Desire, the fancy chocolate shop next to Aidan Gill.  Haircut, lunch, and coffee all in a 50 foot radius – perfect.  Diana couldn’t resist having a rose and lavender chocolate called La Vie en Rose.  These little chocolates are very pretty as well as being delicious treats.

We looked at another house on Saturday afternoon.  This one had a lovely interior, good sized pool, and off-street parking.  The area around the pool was too small to entertain more than a single person and the house was likely the most expensive on the street – we decided to pass on making an offer.  On to the next one.

Kenny and Kara rode their bikes over to our home on Sunday afternoon and we walked down to Pete’s Out in the Cold for a drink and a snack.  The Smoke Dat BBQ pop-up was operating on the patio and we enjoyed several filling snacks.

On the walk back home, we passed a lovely little church.  A guy was going in and Kenny asked about the denomination of the congregation.  He replied that it was a music studio now.  A minute or so later Kara commented that she thought that had been Wim Butler of the band Arcade Fire.  We looked at an online picture, and all agreed that had been him.

Those very loaded nachos and skinny margaritas from Rum House were a nice treat on the continued walk home.

I watched the recently released “Man on the Run” documentary about Paul McCartney founding Wings after the break up of the Beatles.  I would give it a middling rating.

I’m glad we didn’t go to a lot of trouble to see this at the recent Film Festival.

My book this week was “She’s Under Here” by Karen Palmer.  Not for everyone, and I’m not sure how it got on my list, but I did find this a good read that makes one think about how lucky our circumstances are compared to many.  An online summary:

“She’s Under Here: A Memoir by Karen Palmer is a harrowing and honest account of her escape from a violent marriage, detailing her flight with her two daughters in 1989 to create a new life under false identities to protect them from her dangerous ex-husband.  The book explores themes of fear, survival, and the difficult choices women face, examining the lines between victim and perpetrator, and captivity and freedom, all while recounting her “DIY witness protection” story.”

Here are some passages that I highlighted.  I enjoyed the premise of “do-it-yourself” witness protection.
“It might have been exciting, starting over, starting fresh, in a place where we were unknown, but this was do-it-yourself witness protection. Hidden under the driver’s seat was a guidebook on how to create new identities, but it couldn’t tell us who we’d be. We stopped in Boulder, Colorado.”
Something about places that were close to my home in Los Gatos.  I have a good picture of Mum and me looking at those pastel houses in Capitola.
“We took the girls up into the forested hills east of town, to the Mystery Spot, a purported gravitational anomaly where balls rolled uphill, and where I towered over Vinnie, who was a foot taller than me. We took them to Capitola, a pastel wedge of a burgh a few miles south of Santa Cruz, where the surf was extra gentle. We swam and walked the shore.”
And then something about my current home town:
“The next morning, driving west on I-10, hours of rain matched our somber mood. In Mobile, Alabama, on a whim we detoured to New Orleans. Approaching the French Quarter, while stopped at a light, a street sign changed direction in the wind. This, I thought, was one of those places where you might lose your mind, your way, your heart. Iron lace, jazz heard through open doorways, a voodoo museum. We bought the girls masks and beads and, hiding from the brutal sun, downed beignets at a café. Across the street a priest strolled in front of the cathedral, black cassock swinging. I licked powdered sugar from my fingers, took out my notebook, and jotted down a few words. I imagined the priest was me, but also, of course, not-me. Where had he come from? What was he thinking? What sort of trouble was he in? My pulse quickened—how I longed to be creative. There was room for that now in my life. I made another note, and another. And in this way, All Saints, a novel about three lonely people who cross paths in 1950s New Orleans, was born.”

“Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind” – Plato

Huey Smith plays piano on this deep cut by the Pitter Pats.  I have it on good authority (Jon Cleary) that it starts with an arpeggiated dominant 7 with a sharp 5.

Does the start of this song sound familiar?

Yes, a much more famous example of an arpeggiated dominant 7 with a sharp 5.

In other piano music, I have been really enjoying Omar Sosa, a renowned Cuban pianist that I just discovered: