The end

So, how are things with my man you might wonder.

First of all, there were more dates but we stopped writing about them. And we certainly did not take things slowly! On date seven he said he wanted us to be a couple, as in solid, committed, serious, exclusive, etc. That was sweet. It was also very, very soon, and very much the opposite of slow!

Of course I agreed. But then I started to worry about all the things that could go wrong: Was I committing to more than I was ready for? How serious and sustainable were my feelings? Were they the right sort of feelings and what was I supposed to be feeling at this stage anyway? Was I too relaxed, risking to get swept away by this new relationship only to then get hurt myself if he wasn't up for it or things just didn't work out? Was he getting too comfortable? Was he taking me for granted and just replacing his ex with whoever was convenient? Was I worrying too much, jeopardising the whole thing by overthinking it?
That last one might be a yes...

Ooft.

I then went away on a walking trip to Ullapool, a home visit to Germany and a work trip to Greece, too busy to worry, and I'm quite alright just now. I'm writing this while he's making me breakfast.

It's strange but nice to be in a relationship again. There are moments that are just a thousand times more pleasant with a boyfriend. Lying on a wooden jetty by the canal in the sun: definitely better with a boyfriend. Watching a movie on the couch: also much better with a boyfriend. Hugs too.

It's fun to discover one another's little quirks and routines. How he needs to eat at least five times a day, how untidiness makes him alternatively feel uneasy or wild. Seeing him one morning on the couch in his bathrobe (morning gown?) reading the paper was a memorable moment. Made me aware of my own quirks as well, like my erratic eating patterns, my occasional indecisiveness, my ignorance of current (and not so current) affairs. I've found myself a man next to whom I look flaky! I don't even want to think too hard about all my annoying things he has to put with.

It's quite difficult to organise a relationship around a full social life. I have neglected my French studies, my online courses, my dancing and my Uke. We live in opposite ends of the city, so travel is time consuming and sleep-overs need planning ahead. But I'm sure we'll figure it out and find a balance.

So after the first few dates we have now reached a phase where there isn't much to report. If things keep going well he'll probably get the occasional mention in my blog. If things go badly I'm sure I'll write about it too some day. Wish us luck!

In any case, I really did appreciate that he was brave enough to post here for you. If you want to re-read any of it click the links below for the full report:

• Being the man
• Live coverage from the front
• Working Class Boy #2
• First date - what he says
• At the theatre (second date) - what he says
• A coastal walk (date 3) - what she says
• A coastal walk (date 3) - what he says
• Dinner at his (date 4) - what she says
• Dinner at his (date 4) - what he says
• Date #5 - what she says
• Date #5 - what he says

Referendum

Seventeen million people across the UK said this week that they wanted to leave the European Union. What this means was very well described by other people like this unknown and widely quoted commenter on the Financial Times website who talked about "three tragedies" of the EU referendum result:

"Firstly, it was the working classes who voted or us to leave because they were economically disregarded and it is they who will suffer the most in the short term from the dearth of jobs and investment. They have merely swapped one distant and unreachable elite or another one.

Secondly, the younger generation has lost the right to live and work in 27 other countries. We will never know the full extent o the lost opportunities, friendships, marriages and experiences we will be denied. Freedom of movement was taken away by our parents, uncles, and grandparents in a parting blow to a generation that was already drowning in the debts of our predecessors.

Thirdly and perhaps most significantly, we now live in a post-factual democracy. When the facts met the myths they were as useless as bullets bouncing off the bodies of aliens in a HG Wells novel. When Michael Gove said 'the British people are sick of experts' he was right. But can anybody tell me the last time a prevailing culture of anti-intellectualism has lead to anything other than bigotry?"

Me, I was surprised, shocked, disappointed. I'm sad for Europe, sad about the failure of the European Union, sad for the British people.
Many of the 17 million who voted to leave will have done so because of "the migrants" in some way or other. I am an immigrant in this country.

So what really moved me was the response of the people here: Two major Scottish politicians, Kezia Dugdale and Nicola Sturgeon, in their first responses both specifically addressed the European workers in the UK and stressed how welcome they were here and how their contribution was valued.

My boss's boss Paul who is English apologised to me for his countrymen and made sure I was doing ok.

And my bus into town got stuck in a demonstration against the referendum results, with people shouting "Migrants are welcome here".

So how could I take this personally? I definitely don't feel unwelcome in Scotland.

PS. One of my favourite bloggers has expressed his own Brexit sadness in his Make Wealth History blog (*click*).

Scotland's best mountain?

My walking pals convinced me to join them for a long weekend in Ullapool - how could I say no to that? Cute little Ullapool! There was a catch though, they wanted to climb the mountain An Teallach. An Teallach is a grade 5 walk on the trusted Walkhighlands scale (*click*), 7-11 hours long excluding breaks:

"This fabled mountain is perhaps the most impressive in Britain, and gives a day of drama and views that will live in the memory forever. The full traverse is a magnificent scramble, whilst the two Munros can be reached by an easier there-and-back route."

I agreed to do it only if conditions were perfect, little wind, good visibility, not too much snow. An easy way out I thought, because conditions are never perfect in Scotland.

But oh boy, was I wrong! The sun just wouldn't stop shining, no winds but a gentle breeze, and no excuses for me! But what sealed the deal for me in the end was this obnoxious older guy in the bunkhouse who kept mansplaining and acted incredulous when I said that I was going to climb An Teallach. Well, I would show him. Arsehole.

Anyway, everyone else in the bunkhouse was lovely as always in the hills, including and especially my walking pals, Jono, Vivien and Valentina. Also, all of them are great at food-related things, such as buying food, the snacks they bring, and especially cooking! Perfect company for a weekend in the hills.

The big walk started off rather pleasantly up a forestry track along a burn. And while the climb wasn't exactly gentle, the countryside was varied enough to distract from the hard work. The other thing that distracted was the worry about the things yet to come...

The first thing to come was leaving the nice track to climb up a spur. This spur was not the trampled path I had envisaged, but a giant pile of boulders. It was quite a slog to climb the steep rocky slope, but after that the next tops looked grassy and fairly easy.

We then got an excellent overview over the tops and pinnacles of An Teallach - a daunting sight. The sun came out intermittently, and the views were far and incomparable.

Once we reached the first pinnacle I looked at the route and chickened out. For the first time in my walking history I was actually scared of following a route. I thought it too risky to do this bit without ropes - not because it was a difficult climb, but it was more than a scramble and if you fell you'd get seriously hurt.

I left the boys behind and took the bypass route, but soon they caught up with me. It wasn't safe. Or maybe we didn't find the right starting point. But after bypassing the pinnacles we finally reached the first top and then the second, and it being a bank holiday weekend and perfect weather there were loads of other people up there as well, a party really!

Such good fun! The descent was knee-shattering, it was overall quite a long day, and the midges got us in the end when we almost got lost in a rhododendron tunnel. But this is one beautiful mountain, an exhilarating walk, and I'd do it again.



Boulder pile. No path.



First hardship of the day done.

Looking at the pinnacles of An Teallach

View towards the Fisherfield 6 - more mountains to climb for another day.

Another day in Assynt.

Ullapool.

Ullapool.

Stac Pollaidh

Achnahaird Beach

Quinag - just a few corbetts but also quite nice, need to come back for the whole circuit.

Walking pals.

Ullapool.

1000 Comments!

You did it! You lovely people who keep coming back to read about the banalities and angsts of my life - you finally managed to hit the long-announced 1000th comment.

And the prize goes to my most loyal reader - my mum! Her comment was about the first guest blog ever to be published here (*click*), so I guess I have to share the credit. In any case, congratulations! I haven't decided what the prize will be but I'm sure it will be no less amazing than previous ones (*click*).

The Germans are coming!

I was so chuffed that my oldest best friends from school came to visit me in Scotland! We spent quite a lot of time shopping for 'exotic' British toys for their kids, but we also got a lot of sight-seeing, pub-crawling, and Skat-playing done. So much fun.

My highlight was the third day, when we were done shopping and went to Roslin Glen for a nice walk along the river North Esk in the sun. My friends hadn't expected such nice weather, and Scotland is beautiful in the sun.

In the evening we had the ultimate Scottish experience in the Captain's Bar, a tiny pub, where some local musicians had a folk music session. It was so small that we were almost sitting on the musicians' laps, and we got the most of it. At some point the whole pub was singing Scotland's inofficial national anthem, "Will Ye Go Lassie Go".

Date #5 - what he says

Get ready for what might be my guest blogger's final post:

"Date number 5 is a different ball game as we enter the realm of the ad hoc date. Maike is dancing during the weekend so I text her to ask if she wants to meet for a quick coffee (this ends up being a very unquick coffee). 

It’s a sunny day. We meet in a park and wile away a few hours lying there and chatting, which is super nice. It feels very natural and I’m definitely the most relaxed and at ease I’ve been on the dates so far. Maike is great and it’s so nice to spend time with her like this. The only downside is that I take a healthy interest in her dancing shoes and she thinks I might have a foot fetish (I don’t)(at least not that I know of).

We eventually have that coffee. I fear Maike thinks I’m a little unusual as I tell her I like to rewatch certain films lots of times. We then decide to extend the date further by getting dinner. We eat at a really nice Turkish place and have lots of MEAT. The waiter used to live near to my hometown and gives us free tea. Maike decides that I’m better company than that evening’s dancing (I always knew this lady was wise) so we decide to go to the cinema instead. The film is very funny and we have a long, in depth conversation about one of the big questions in life: just how old is Hugh Grant these days?

After the film finishes Maike walks me to the bus stop (she is an old fashioned romantic) so I can get home while she cycles back to hers.

So, a quick coffee turned into an 8 hour date with a beautiful, smart, interesting lady. Life is good, dear readers, life is good."

And to answer the one obvious question that must be killing you now: Yes, Hugh Grant is indeed looking quite old in the film Florence Foster Jenkins, but he is only 55!

Date #5 - what she says

Date 5
This is an impromptu date. Unexpectedly, my afternoon is free and he asks me if I want to meet up for a coffee. Do I ever. I am really glad he asks, I have been wanting to see him all day. It seems the more time I spend with him the more time I want to spend with him.

We meet in Princes Street Gardens and just lie in the sun for four hours. Enjoying the sun and each other's company, rolling in the grass, watching people, kissing, talking.

We go for coffee at Waterstone's, a bookstore with a nice café overlooking the castle. Apparently, his go-to place for first dates! I still have some time to kill before my next engagement, a dance I am going to go to. He suggests we have dinner, and I ask for a cheerful restaurant rather than a fancy one. The Vietnamese place he suggests is full but we find a Turkish place nearby which turns out to be a great choice. The food is very good, but also, Ali, who runs the place together with his brother, is a lovely host and has a friendly chat with every guest. Definitely a cheerful place.

On our way to my bike we pass by the cinema. I'm not ready for the date to be over, so I can convince him to see a film which he doesn't even want to see, and I ditch my other plans for the evening.

I've learned more about the mystery live-in ex. When he first mentioned her I commented on the fact that the break-up had been quite recent. Maybe because of this remark he was reluctant to tell me that they were together for a very, very long time. I don't mind. Should I? I've always thought I might 'end up' with someone who has had a previous marriage or something, because the ones who haven't had any serious relationships by now - will they ever?

Dinner at his (date 4) - what he says

My guest blogger:

"So, dear readers, we have arrived at date number four. Exciting times! For today’s date I aim to impress Maike by cooking for her and showing her my flat.

I have a minor panic on the day when Maike tells me she has never had blue cheese before, and this is a key ingredient in what I’m cooking. I have bought a German blue cheese, so what can go wrong?

As it turns out she likes the food and my flat. She spends time looking at my books, which I like a lot. We go for a nice walk along the beach (this working class boy has a ‘beachside property’) before coming back for dessert (which I’ve bought, not made, I confess). We listen to jazz and Maike is very interested in counting the beats and I learn a little about musical theory from her. What a find this lady is!

There is some very nice kissing (awwww) and then I drive her home. A really nice date!"

Dinner at his (date 4) - what she says

Date 4
He invites me to dinner at his place. I realise that this could be code for something else but in fact I suspect nothing other than honourable intentions and hopefully a nice dinner. He even picks me up from work and offers me a lift home later - how nice is that!

His flat is very close to the beach, very clean and tidy and nicely decorated. I must admit I am relieved. In fact, I am ridiculously pleased about that. Lots of framed prints on the walls, lots of books, CDs and DVDs neatly stacked in shelves and in an old fireplace. We share our taste in books - frighteningly so.

There is more kissing and when it gets a bit heated I suggest we take things slowly. He might be a keeper so I'm not taking this lightly. I want to make sure no one gets hurt too much before we've made up our minds.

He makes a lovely dinner which involves blue cheese - I was worried, I had never had cheese with blue mould in it. But it works really well with the other ingredients, butternut squash, mushrooms, rocket and a sweet dressing. We take a walk along the beach at sunset - again! It is beautiful and I am feeling happy. Apart from being slightly paranoid about running into one of my old flames who all seem to be living in this area.

He opens up a bit and tells me about his own old flames. I'm still waiting to hear about the ex live-in girlfriend from not too long ago, but I think he must have had his rebound, and it's not going to be me. He tells me how nervous he was when he first saw me on our first date because I was better-looking than in my picture. Then he quickly added that my looks weren't the only reason why he wanted to meet me - as if he was worried he might have offended me! Adorable.

I have deactivated my online dating account. I can't possibly deal with more than one boy at a time.

A coastal walk (date 3) - what he says

And here's my guest blogger's account of date number three:

"Date three has been arranged as a long coastal walk. Maike is well prepared. When I do the gentlemanly thing and offer to carry the rucksack, I nearly snap my arm because of how heavy it is! It later turns out that she has a second outfit in there (this lady likes to layer) and snacks for the trip (I’m a bit embarrassed as my preparation amounts to a bottle of water). The weather is beautiful. Nice sights: bridges, water, islands, trees, wildlife, beaches. We walk. We talk. Life is sweet. We reach the halfway point and turn back after a short rest. I am thinking I would love to kiss Maike today. I don’t want to overstep boundaries. I’m also aware that if I am rebuffed it is going to be a long, awkward walk back. We spot a strange, small rock called Eagle Rock (named because in theory an image of an eagle can be seen in the rock – possibly an optimistic claim). Maike wants to take a look at the rock. I realise this would be an amazing spot to kiss. Windswept and romantic. I could commune with nature and be all Heathcliff-like (if Heathcliff was clean shaven and wearing a blue hoodie). I decide to go for it. You only live once and all that. I am happy to report that Maike does not rebuff me. We kiss. And she is an amazing kisser (apologies to one reader in particular – Maike’s mother – if this is too much detail). At the end of the walk, we sit on a wall for a long time and admire the view. Then a meal and home. It’s been a great day and it’s really nice to getting to know Maike."

To be continued.

A coastal walk (date 3) - what she says

Date 3
We meet in South Queensferry in the afternoon of one of the first properly sunny days this spring. My evil plan is to walk the 5 miles to Cramond and back in a little loop so that at sunset, we will be walking by the water with views of the Forth bridges and over to Fife. Could it be any more romantic?

We walk to Cramond where the river Almond meets the Firth of Forth, and watch the boats, and the people on the other side of the river. There used to be a passenger ferry to cross it, which would have taken under five minutes. Now, there is a bridge a mile up the river. We are alone on this side of the river, safe from other people and the ice cream van.

We walk back along the coast and climb a big rock that has a name plate attached to it. Eagle Rock. It is exposed up here, windy and sunny, and offers nice views. Almost too perfect a spot for a first kiss. And I am taken by surprise when it actually happens here, so soon. Good work!

I wonder how scary it must be to make this move for the first time. It's probably easier with online, 'official', dating, because it is clear to all parties involved that this is about romance not friendship, so attempting a kiss shouldn't be too risky. But still, I have never done it.

I'm feeling a bit self-conscious about kissing in such an overly romantic spot, or kissing at all, but it soon passes, and I am just enjoying the moment, the walk, the sun, the twosomeness, holding hands.

Back in Queensferry we sit on a wall by the water for hours, getting a Scottish tan (=sunburn), until we need to pee. We have dinner in a pub, and he gives me a lift home.

To be continued.

Forth Rail Bridge

Barnbougle Castle

Dalmeny Estate

The scenery which made him want to kiss me.

Most romantic rail bridge to cross the Forth.

At the theatre (date 2) - what he says

Here is my guest blogger's report of our second date:

"I manage to leave work on time and get to the theatre for my second date with Maike right on time. I feel more relaxed and we have a catch up before heading into the play. While waiting for the play to begin, we discuss books and she says she has read Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace twice. One of my favourite books. My heart swoons. The play is, erm, interesting and pretty weird. One audience member needs to fake an illness to get out of there.  Afterwards we go for a drink. Maike makes me laugh a lot when she can’t understand some of my words and then proceeds to say back to me how they sound. The conversation flows. I give her a lift home. On the way we arrange a third date (readers, there are no flies on this boy). To kiss or not to kiss, that was my question. I ponder trying to give her a goodnight kiss but don’t have the courage and don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. We hug instead. A very nice second date and third one arranged. Life is good."

To be continued.

First date - what he says

I'm so excited, I have a guest blogger today! Not only are you reading about the story as it develops, you are being treated to both sides of it! Working Class Boy has kindly agreed to report his experience of dating me. Is this a great or a terrible idea? I honestly don't know, but I do think it might be entertaining. So, in his own words:

"I have had the honour of having been asked to contribute a guest blog to this publication. So, here goes...

First date:
Before the first date with Maike, of course I had seen her online profile and there had been messages sent between us. From this Maike seemed interesting, quirky and pretty. On the day of date I arrived feeling reasonably calm and optimistic. She was already there and reading (a very good first sign). Very quickly I realise that I have underestimated Maike. First off, she is incredibly good looking (Readers, I know I am a fool for not realising this sooner. What can I say? My Ipad is small and her photographs simply did not do her justice). I suddenly feel more nervous than I did. Maike struggles to understand some (actually, maybe a lot) of my accent. I fear I am making a mess of this. So, I regroup and try to portray myself as something other than a bumbling idiot. Hopefully I achieve this. We talk about various topics: work, where we live and have lived, books, music, and even dating. Maike is sweet and very funny. Her sense of humour is sharp and dry. I find myself laughing a lot. She even manages to suggest I might have an inappropriate relationship with my sister, which is funny rather than offensive. Time goes. One hour turns into two and then three. There is a slightly awkward moment when we realise that she lives in the same building as my friend (hopefully she does not think I’m an axe murderer and now have her address). At the end of the date I decide to be brave and ask her out for a second date. She accepts. Hurray! So, dear reader, the first date is navigated with a great deal of nerves but seemingly a level of success. Phew."

Aw, isn't he a charmer? To be continued.

Get ready, a treat is coming up!

Brace yourselves for a special treat on Wednesday: For the first time in the history of my regular ramblings on the internet, I will have a guest blog!

Working Class Boy #2

Date 2
On our second date we saw a play which had received raving reviews, but which I found a bit disturbing. For example, in a twisted sex scene on a kitchen counter the hostess and a much older guest cheated on their partners during a dinner party while the old guy's wife and grown-up son were talking to the hostess's husband in the living room next door. Maybe too intense for a second date?

We went for drinks afterwards, but I felt too shell-shocked to discuss the play. We talked about other stuff and it was nice. He had read everything by David Foster Wallace. Even unfinished stuff! While not exactly obscure, the author isn't that widely known outside the US.

He noticed before I did that I was uncomfortable discussing a topic. I don't remember which topic, but I liked his perceptiveness and consideration. I believe his job requires a lot of listening, and he is very good at it.

He gave me a lift home which was great. He can drive and has a car, how convenient! Compare 10 min in good company in a cosy car to 40 min of waiting at a bus stop, sitting in the freezing or overheated bus with unsavoury or smelly characters, before finally having to walk through an unlit park to get home.

It turned out that he had been to my house before because he is friends with my neighbours (*click*). Awkward. Now I feel like my neighbours are spying on me.

Parking in front of my house I could see my flatmate through the window doing the dishes. I didn't want to linger here, exposed like that. He made no attempt to get out and open my door for me (how dare he not to!), so I just gave him a hug in the car, making it practically impossible for him to kiss me.

I think I dodged a bullet there. Kissing in a car is awkward.

To be continued.

Live coverage from the front

I'm changing the format of my date reports to live coverage! But before that, I need to bring you up to speed.

This guy, let's call him Working Class Boy, was the guinea pig to my first experiment of being the man (*click*), where I selected dating candidates myself rather than waiting for them to select me. Well, he was the first one who wasn't playing hard-to-get. There was another one who at one point took weeks to respond. During this time I had already deleted our previous conversation and lost the record of what had been said.

Date 1
From the few pleasant messages Working Class Boy and I exchanged, I couldn't find anything wrong with him. He seemed kind, well-read, interested in many different things, fairly active, and pretty sane. He was also slightly taller than me and seemed to still have full hair. Not a major issue but nice.

Arranging our first date was uncomplicated. I asked him out for coffee, and he told me which days he would be free. Very helpful. We set the time and place, and then we met in a nice café with a few comfy chairs, which was also a restaurant and a bar, a versatile choice. I had been on a first date here before, with Huggy Boy (*click*). That didn't go so well.

I was more nervous than I had been on most previous first dates, because this guy was promising. When he arrived he seemed nervous as well. We talked for hours about books, and work, and where we were from, and where we had lived, and while there were a few pauses, they weren't too uncomfortable. He seemed awfully nice. I made an inappropriate joke involving his sister whom I had never met. He took it graciously. He kept painting me in a good light, which somehow urged me to say something bad about myself in which he couldn't possibly find anything positive. I must have failed, because before the date was over he committed the faux-pas of asking me out for a second one.

To be continued.

Anniversary

Three years ago last Saturday I moved to Edinburgh!

To celebrate the occasion I went out to GrownUps, a "disco for old people" as my friend described it. "But in a good way"... The theme was punk rock and I was having a great time, dancing and jumping to high energy music. Appropriately, I got soaked with beer by two of my over-enthusiastic friends. And since old people go to bed early, the night finished timely at 1 AM. Perfect!

The next day I bought some wine and was asked for my ID! I didn't think that would still happen in my mid-thirties, and I was thoroughly pleased. But then I wondered that after a night of partying I may have looked young and rough, rather than old and well-preserved. Oh well, I'll take it.

Being the Man

After a bit of a break from boys I'm now taking online dating to the next level: I'm gonna be the man! Well, I'm still gonna be me, just taking the initiative. Rather than waiting for the dudes to contact me, I will be the one to choose who to talk to. Turns out the ones who pick me are not the ones I would pick - no offence guys!

So I sent a message to someone whose profile I liked, he got back, we chatted for a bit and then I asked him out on a date. Whaaat?!? Yeah, right! Why didn't I do that sooner?

Tax return II

This!

Isn't she adorable?

Tax return I

Every April, I get a huge tax return. This is because HMRC got my tax code wrong. I have now taken steps to get it fixed, but that means the end of my annual cash surprise.

This year, I treated myself to something special. It arrived last week in this funnily shaped parcel. Can you guess what it is?