Sunday morning
11:32 AM
Aberfeldy
It's amazing just how many things can go wrong while one of my classes is being taken care of, while the class itself still runs well. Even as I write this, things are continuing to go awry. I should be well on my way back to Edinburgh, but I'm sitting in a pub, waiting for a toastie... and I'm cold. I'm guessing they don't think it's worthwhile lighting the fire until later in the day, when the pub gets busier. Right now, I'm sitting by last night's ashes, trying to drag some heat from them.
Yesterday, Vanessa and I left Edinburgh for Aberfeldy. And on our way, we were informed that various bits of information I'd been given had been wrong, that bad weather was bringing about schedule changes and that there was no way we'd get back into Edinburgh after our class had concluded. We got to Perth, boarded the second (late) bus for Aberfeldy and then Vanessa gave up and headed back for Edinburgh. I carried on.
Fair enough... the weather was pretty bad. I was sitting at the front on the top deck and at intermittent points, there was fairly heavy snow covering the window. It stopped for a while at some desolate place in the middle of nowhere, and for a tense few moments, I actually wondered whether we were definitely going to carry on.
We did carry on, though. And we got into Aberfeldy at around 7PM, where I arranged for a taxi to take me to where the girls were waiting and settled down with a coke (no drinking before a job) to give myself time to chill out a bit. I knew where I was heading and I could start to relax. Except the bad weather was also playing havoc with my 'phone signals, and the girl who had booked me wanted to sneak me in quietly, so I was supposed to call her and let her know I was close.
Thankfully, Aberfeldy has a great taxi driver who couldn't do enough to help out. He let me use his 'phone, he parked discreetly nearby and he waited with my while the girl who had booked me came out and showed me in.
And that's where things went well. That's where the day became fun again.
I was shown into the room where the class was being held and I spoke to the three girls who were arranging the class. A few other people knew what was happening, but not all of them - and not the bride. So we discussed the approach, I made a couple of suggestions and then I stepped into a side corridor, stripped off and waited for my introduction.
The girls were all ushered into the main room and I listened in. The announcement was made that there was to be an art class (thus explaining the charcoal and sketchpads scattered throughout the room) but the tutor had been delayed due to the bad weather. And that was my cue to enter the room - naked and ready for my reception.
I was really starting to relax into it, now. The cool thing about these classes is that it doesn't matter how stressful the day is, leading up to that point - when the class is under way, it all becomes insignificant. At one point yesterday, after Vanessa had left, I couldn't imagine being able to enjoy the event, but suddenly it was fun all over again.
I went through my favourite challenges and introduced a new one at random. For the final challenge, I announced to the girls that everybody in the room had to pick out a body part and focus on that and then - when we were finished - we would put all the pictures together on the floor and see if we could construct an entire body. It was amazing - like a genetic experiment gone very wrong. Multiple torsos, half-hearted legs, three penises and I can't remember how many nipples - including one that was very lovingly detailed. I had to take a couple of heads from previous drawings to complete the outline, because nobody had shown any interest in that part.
One girl drew a picture of my head earlier and we got into a debate. I commented on how it looked familiar and some of the girls thought it looked like "a young John Major". I wasn't sure about that, though, so kept thinking about it - and kept looking at the mouth of the picture. Eventually, I recognised what I was seeing and said it looked like Walter from the TV series Fringe.
Later, when I was picking out my favourite picture, I held it up again. "John Major or Walter?" I asked. "John Major" was the general response. I discarded it - it wasn't going to win that competition if it was John Major.
The winner was a really cool, foreshortened picture of me from when I was lying on the ground. The challenge had been to draw a picture with just straight lines and this particular image was really abstract.
I hung around for a while, after the class was finished. Often, when it's all done, it's time to move on and let the girls have space to proceed with their other plans, but this time it seemed that nobody was in any real hurry. I lingered, talked to some of the girls and had a beer. Then I called for the taxi to pick me up again and take me back into town, where I got a room in the Breadalbane Hotel.
This morning, I got up, had breakfast and consulted the Traveline app on my iphone to find out the best bus service back into Edinburgh. 11:07AM, on Dunkeld Street, at at the Post Office was the clear instruction. I waited there and the bus driver sailed straight past me, without even attempting to slow down. And that's why I'm in this pub right now.
Sunday afternoon
2:52PM
Ballinluig
I waited in the pub for the 2:07PM (same location, according to Traveline) but at a nearby stop - a recognisable one, with a shelter and everything. When the driver picked me up, I first clarified that he'd been the previous driver, then confronted him about the fact that he'd ignored me. He was completely unrepentant. The gist of his defence was that he stopped only at official stops. The gist of mine was that the Traveline app on my 'phone described the location very clearly. Outside the Post Office on Dunkeld Street - which was where I had been waiting.
"Take it up with Traveline," he said.
I fully intend to.
Right now, I've got a further two hours to wait for a connecting bus in a little town called Ballinuig. I don't anticipate getting home before 7PM.
Sunday evening
7:13PM
Edinburgh
Home at last. And I'm deep down tired. I can't remember the last time I felt like this. I'm going to sleep well, tonight.
There was yet one more bit of drama to the day. The driver (that one from the previous instalment to this posting) dropped me in Ballinluig and gave me directions to the place where I could catch a connecting bus to Edinburgh - but didn't inform me that the connecting bus wouldn't stop there if I didn't book it first. It was due at 4:39PM, so I got there at 4:15PM because paranoia was settling in with some serious determination by this time. When I saw it approaching, I stuck my hand out and it sailed right on past. Fortunately, this driver was a lot more conscientious than the last one, so he stopped a bit down the road and waited while I ran up to him. It was him that explained that it should have been booked first.
If he hadn't stopped, I would have had to wait until 7:37PM for the next one. I'd have still been there, now. And I wouldn't have got home before 10PM.
Ultimately, it was a great class with a great group of girls, but it has been dramatically - and repeatedly - let down by an unreliable bus service, run by staff who (with one exception) have no sense of responsibility, compassion or job satisfaction. And ultimately, it's the class that I'm going to remember from this weekend. Always best to remember the highlights.
11:32 AM
Aberfeldy
It's amazing just how many things can go wrong while one of my classes is being taken care of, while the class itself still runs well. Even as I write this, things are continuing to go awry. I should be well on my way back to Edinburgh, but I'm sitting in a pub, waiting for a toastie... and I'm cold. I'm guessing they don't think it's worthwhile lighting the fire until later in the day, when the pub gets busier. Right now, I'm sitting by last night's ashes, trying to drag some heat from them.
Yesterday, Vanessa and I left Edinburgh for Aberfeldy. And on our way, we were informed that various bits of information I'd been given had been wrong, that bad weather was bringing about schedule changes and that there was no way we'd get back into Edinburgh after our class had concluded. We got to Perth, boarded the second (late) bus for Aberfeldy and then Vanessa gave up and headed back for Edinburgh. I carried on.
Fair enough... the weather was pretty bad. I was sitting at the front on the top deck and at intermittent points, there was fairly heavy snow covering the window. It stopped for a while at some desolate place in the middle of nowhere, and for a tense few moments, I actually wondered whether we were definitely going to carry on.
We did carry on, though. And we got into Aberfeldy at around 7PM, where I arranged for a taxi to take me to where the girls were waiting and settled down with a coke (no drinking before a job) to give myself time to chill out a bit. I knew where I was heading and I could start to relax. Except the bad weather was also playing havoc with my 'phone signals, and the girl who had booked me wanted to sneak me in quietly, so I was supposed to call her and let her know I was close.
Thankfully, Aberfeldy has a great taxi driver who couldn't do enough to help out. He let me use his 'phone, he parked discreetly nearby and he waited with my while the girl who had booked me came out and showed me in.
And that's where things went well. That's where the day became fun again.
I was shown into the room where the class was being held and I spoke to the three girls who were arranging the class. A few other people knew what was happening, but not all of them - and not the bride. So we discussed the approach, I made a couple of suggestions and then I stepped into a side corridor, stripped off and waited for my introduction.
The girls were all ushered into the main room and I listened in. The announcement was made that there was to be an art class (thus explaining the charcoal and sketchpads scattered throughout the room) but the tutor had been delayed due to the bad weather. And that was my cue to enter the room - naked and ready for my reception.
I was really starting to relax into it, now. The cool thing about these classes is that it doesn't matter how stressful the day is, leading up to that point - when the class is under way, it all becomes insignificant. At one point yesterday, after Vanessa had left, I couldn't imagine being able to enjoy the event, but suddenly it was fun all over again.
I went through my favourite challenges and introduced a new one at random. For the final challenge, I announced to the girls that everybody in the room had to pick out a body part and focus on that and then - when we were finished - we would put all the pictures together on the floor and see if we could construct an entire body. It was amazing - like a genetic experiment gone very wrong. Multiple torsos, half-hearted legs, three penises and I can't remember how many nipples - including one that was very lovingly detailed. I had to take a couple of heads from previous drawings to complete the outline, because nobody had shown any interest in that part.
One girl drew a picture of my head earlier and we got into a debate. I commented on how it looked familiar and some of the girls thought it looked like "a young John Major". I wasn't sure about that, though, so kept thinking about it - and kept looking at the mouth of the picture. Eventually, I recognised what I was seeing and said it looked like Walter from the TV series Fringe.
Later, when I was picking out my favourite picture, I held it up again. "John Major or Walter?" I asked. "John Major" was the general response. I discarded it - it wasn't going to win that competition if it was John Major.
The winner was a really cool, foreshortened picture of me from when I was lying on the ground. The challenge had been to draw a picture with just straight lines and this particular image was really abstract.
I hung around for a while, after the class was finished. Often, when it's all done, it's time to move on and let the girls have space to proceed with their other plans, but this time it seemed that nobody was in any real hurry. I lingered, talked to some of the girls and had a beer. Then I called for the taxi to pick me up again and take me back into town, where I got a room in the Breadalbane Hotel.
This morning, I got up, had breakfast and consulted the Traveline app on my iphone to find out the best bus service back into Edinburgh. 11:07AM, on Dunkeld Street, at at the Post Office was the clear instruction. I waited there and the bus driver sailed straight past me, without even attempting to slow down. And that's why I'm in this pub right now.
Sunday afternoon
2:52PM
Ballinluig
I waited in the pub for the 2:07PM (same location, according to Traveline) but at a nearby stop - a recognisable one, with a shelter and everything. When the driver picked me up, I first clarified that he'd been the previous driver, then confronted him about the fact that he'd ignored me. He was completely unrepentant. The gist of his defence was that he stopped only at official stops. The gist of mine was that the Traveline app on my 'phone described the location very clearly. Outside the Post Office on Dunkeld Street - which was where I had been waiting.
"Take it up with Traveline," he said.
I fully intend to.
Right now, I've got a further two hours to wait for a connecting bus in a little town called Ballinuig. I don't anticipate getting home before 7PM.
Sunday evening
7:13PM
Edinburgh
Home at last. And I'm deep down tired. I can't remember the last time I felt like this. I'm going to sleep well, tonight.
There was yet one more bit of drama to the day. The driver (that one from the previous instalment to this posting) dropped me in Ballinluig and gave me directions to the place where I could catch a connecting bus to Edinburgh - but didn't inform me that the connecting bus wouldn't stop there if I didn't book it first. It was due at 4:39PM, so I got there at 4:15PM because paranoia was settling in with some serious determination by this time. When I saw it approaching, I stuck my hand out and it sailed right on past. Fortunately, this driver was a lot more conscientious than the last one, so he stopped a bit down the road and waited while I ran up to him. It was him that explained that it should have been booked first.
If he hadn't stopped, I would have had to wait until 7:37PM for the next one. I'd have still been there, now. And I wouldn't have got home before 10PM.
Ultimately, it was a great class with a great group of girls, but it has been dramatically - and repeatedly - let down by an unreliable bus service, run by staff who (with one exception) have no sense of responsibility, compassion or job satisfaction. And ultimately, it's the class that I'm going to remember from this weekend. Always best to remember the highlights.
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