Saturday, September 07, 2019


I may not have many followers for my digital diary, but they let me know in no uncertain terms when (in their opinion) I am using my ailments as an excuse not to blog.

So herewith a whole bunch of photos from a duly chastised Auld Da.

Thursday, September 05, 2019


The heatwave, we were told, was coming to an end. 

The doctor determined that while the yellow quarantine pennant must continue to fly figuratively at the entrance to my room, after six months of solitary confinement and in anticipation of a good result from the latest treatment with super-potent antibiotics, I could be allowed a 'Kaffee und Kuchen' outing in the garden of the Vinzentinum before the weather deteriorated. 

Yesterday the sun shone! Jessi and Mickey were no longer obliged to disguise themselves in Tyvek or similar hazmat suiting. The sudden pleasure of being out of doors for the first time in half a year meant there were many photos taken. How very much I miss having a decent version of Photoshop.

Tuesday, July 16, 2019


The protagonist of ColinDexter's appeared not only in the 33 two-hour episodes the Inspector Morse television series but also in diverse prequels and sequels.

Dead Man's Walk is an unofficial fan-based story that follows closely 'in the grand tradition of Colin Dexter's original creation', a posthumous prequel if you like. 

It amuses me that there is a product placement name-check for Glenkinchie Single Malt whisky, a favourite of mine not least due to its Lowlands provenance.

Now maybe I should read the Dexter oeuvre which I had hitherto written off as mere 'made for television' writing. 

Monday, July 01, 2019


"These youngsters today don't know how lucky they are!"

The picture misleads, however. Today's wake up cuppa, much to Jessi's liking, is served at the Alikanas resort on the Greek island of Zakynthos. Since the 1980s it has become a preferred destination for the under-30 tourists in particular from Great Britain. 

Alykanas is now the busiest destination on the island for British holidaymakers, surpassing Tsivili and Kalamaki, which are more popular with families.

Jessi is working! The British operator of numerous resorts in the region is producing a series of television commercials and Jessi has been hired as stylist. Next week they'll fly her out again do the styling for one of their resorts in Turkey.

Admittedly she'll be working under supervision, but being entrusted with such responsibilities as a relative newcomer. and in a competitive environment like that in Berlin is a positive sign.

Thursday, June 06, 2019


Whereas my old flat was situated in a part of Munich which has always been favoured by those of a Bourgeois/Bohème disposition, my domicile is nowadays is in a neighbourhood which I could never have imagined calling home. It is a mere hop, skip and a jump distant from the  Residenz in central Munich the former royal palace of the Wittelsbach monarchs of Bavaria.

The chapel is quite splendid but fortunately, there is no pressure to espouse the Catholic faith and inmates are free to furnish and accessorise their allotted space as they see fit. In my case, it means that my Gabriele Mucchi lounge chair has followed me to my little room beneath the eves.

From the top floor window, I have a splendid view of the skyscape beyond the horizon. And I have discovered a fascination for the condensation trails etched in the deep blue of the Bavarian heaven by high-flying aircraft.

It seems that 30 to 40 thousand feet above Munich two airway tracks, one predominantly for eastbound traffic, the other for planes heading west, cross. From my earth-bound vantage point, this can cause very rarely the drawing of a perfect St Andrew's Cross, or for Scots a Saltire, in the sky. The fact that this is a benediction of extremely limited duration makes this a phenomenon which is somehow Scottish indeed.

There is also an ephemeral and evanescent aspect to this celestial display. Only certain combinations of high-altitude and low temperature mean that the contrails will be visible in all their transient glory. (I think I have understood that correctly).

While on the subject of things I can observe from my window, I'd not want to forget the sedate appearance of the Zeppelin NT.  The blimp conducts sightseeing excursions offering a bird's eye view of the city which is doubtless a further improvement on the clever virtuality provided by Google. It so happens that when the Zeppelin approaches the city centre, the change of heading takes place directly above the Vincentinum. Very impressive! 

Friday, May 31, 2019



Let's see now... a while back it was deemed fitting and proper that my presence for seventy-nine years on this distraught wee planet was worthy of celebration in some form or another. That I am for the foreseeable future institutionalised is not to be seen as a problem.

As I review all the photos I'd probably have posted on a day-by-day basis, there are a good few I'd like to share before they are too old to be in any way relevant.

Mickey discovered that the Vincentium has a sort of conservatory that can be reserved for private events. 
For my birthday there were the usual tulips, the Glenkinchie Single Malt and the home-made chocolate flan. All in all, it wasn't that far from the way the occasion would have been observed if I still had my apartment in Schwabing-West.                                                                                                                                  

Tuesday, May 28, 2019


I have now been moved to a single occupancy room on the top floor just under the clock tower. This, of course, suits Auld Da, the misanthrope, very well. However, it must be noted that I also have the distinction of being the only resident under quarantine, having previously been billeted with an old gentleman who, it was determined, carried a seriously infectious intestinal disease. Pictured is Julia, my favourite caregiver, without her face mask.
Visitors, as well as carers, must wear protective garb, which I find quite comical.

'Clostridium Difficile' is the name of my affliction, not that I shall be googling in search of further information

Where ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise.