Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I stop in Wigtown on the way back. It's Scotland's Book Town. They're hoping to
turn it into a northern Hay-on-Wye and while it's not really there yet in terms of the sheer
numbers of book shops, it too is developing hopefully and seems encouragingly busy.
Even has a bookshop that specialises in SF and related stuff, which is no bad thing. I
struggle to restrict myself to two shops and as many books as I can carry. I head back via
the coast and the A75. The 701 from Moffat is equally inspiring in the opposite direction.
The fake speed camera at Tweedsmuir is still there.
By now it's June and I've started writing the topic. We've played host to Ann's sister
Susan and her husband Phil as well as to Ann's parents, Denis and Christa, so Ann doesn't
feel too left out or lonely as I sit in the study clattering away at the keyboard. We've been
abroad with Denis and Christa in Cyprus back in March, of course (cue that unexpected
snow in Pissouri) and we went to Berlin - one of my favourite cities since I hitchhiked
there from Hamburg in 1975 - with Sue and Phil back in November. Cue perfectly ex-
pectable temperatures of umpteen below. On the way to Berlin, changing flights at Birm-
ingham Airport, I picked up a copy of Whisky magazine. By November I'd already signed
up to write this topic, and besides, the magazine had an article about whisky bars in Ber-
lin. We don't actually visit any of these bars, though we do stroll round the Charlotten-
burg Palace and visit another great palace, in this case of retailism, KaDeWe. KaDeWe
is a monumental department store whose two top storeys are devoted to food and drink.
These two floors make Harrods Food Hall look like a corner shop. Seriously; if you ever
go to Berlin, don't miss KaDeWe; if you have any interest in food and drink at all those
two top storeys are just another vision of heaven.
Later I take out a subscription for Whisky , strictly in the interests of diligent research.
I've settled into a routine of writing, doing all the usual domestic stuff, and - to try
and keep even slightly fit while being basically sedentary through most of the day - aug-
menting my usual short walks round the village with longer walks in the forests and hills
within a half-hour's drive.
There are still distilleries to be investigated, however, and malts to be drunk. The next
couple of unwitting guests to be press-ganged into some gratuitous distillery-researching
are the Obasis.
Michelle Hodgson used to do my publicity. She's working for the Guardian and
Independent these days and - as an aspiring writer - writing novels in her spare time, but
for a good decade or so she was the person who had the task of arranging my promotional
tours round the country and then accompanying me round the bookshops for a fortnight
at a time. Michelle did this for lots of other writers too, of course, but my book-a-year
schedule meant that she probably had to endure more time with me over those ten years
than any other scribbler. Despite this, she became good friends with Ann and me - to the
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