I have been interested in the Domesday project for a while. The idea that a snapshot of Britain was taken, in the form of maps, photographs and text. Yet, the data was unavailable to most people.

The Domesday project was as much an ambitious experiment with technology as anything else. The technology was just about available, but a lot of pioneering work had to be done, and the hardware required for it was prohibitively expensive, leaving many of the contributors somewhat miffed.

Since then, it has become one of the most famous examples of digital obsolesence. This was due to a combination of the technology required to read the discs becoming increasingly rare, and idiosyncratic code.

The Domesday project came at a time when the technology was available, but the standards were not yet there to make it stable enough for long-term preservation, or even easy access in the short term. It’s a reminder that digital technologies are hugely enabling, yet frighteningly fragile.

Then there are the copyright issues surrounding both the content and the technology.

Joys of browsing Domesday Reloaded

The BBC should be applauded for finally managing to open up some of the data to the public on the web. The Domesday project was created before the web was invented. This isn’t how the content was designed to be viewed, so navigation is a bit cumbersome.

But aside from this gripe, the Domesday Reloaded website is turning out to be a fascinating resource.

I was born in 1986, the same year in which the Domesday project disc was published. So the Britain described here is a place that I don’t remember. But enough of it is familiar for it to feel incredibly relevant to me. It’s almost like being given a little upgrade to my memory, so that I can have snippets of knowledge from just before I was born.

Take the photographs for D-block GB-328000-690000 — the centre of Kirkcaldy, my hometown (D-block being one of the 4km by 3km areas the UK was divided into). It took me a little while to recognise “Kirkcaldy’s busy High Street”. But once I spotted British Home Stores, I was right there.

Yet, despite the familiarity, it is almost a completely different world. My memory of the High Street before it was pedestrianised is very limited. But it is just within touching distance of my memory for me to feel a strong connection with it.

The text entries are also fascinating. Most of the contributions were provided by primary schools. A decision was taken by the Domesday project not to edit the contributions, so the quality and style of writing varies from area to area.

As such, what strikes me the most is that it informs you as much about the prejudices of the school pupils and their teachers as it does about the area. It also retains their poor spelling and strange grammar.

For instance, an entry from Dundee (D-block GB-336000-732000) called ‘Traffic in and out’ is a basic survey of vehicles travelling on a road, with guesses as to where the vehicles are going and why. It lacks the academic rigour you would ideally want from a historical document.

But while some of the entries may seem banal, it was designed to be this way. The aim was to genuinely document society by capturing childrens’ curiosity with everything. This way it wouldn’t leave out what adults perceive as being obvious, when it wouldn’t necessarily be so obvious to someone in 1,000 years.

The really big shame is that not every part of Britain was documented. I could understand remote rural areas not being included. But sadly some highly populated areas have also been missed out. For instance, two D-blocks that cover the centre and east of Dundee lie blank, as does much of London.

But what exists is a joy. Even in the little amount of scanning I have done, I have already learned new information about the area I live in, which has set my mind racing and inspired me to investigate further.

Challenges for the modern day equivalents

What also struck me is how we actually already have readily-accessible modern-day equivalents of the Domesday project, almost by accident. The BBC is asking for users to update the content for D-blocks that were documented in 1986, to take an equivalent snapshot of 2011. I may go out and take some photographs for that.

But this sort of local information is staggeringly well documented already. We have Wikipedia, which can be edited by anyone but retains an academic approach that the Domesday project lacked. As such, it is a treasure trove of local information that can probably be relied on more.

Meanwhile, Google Earth and Google Maps provide masses of images of all corners of the country. It absolutely dwarfs what’s on Domesday Reloaded.

But the big question, which can’t be answered at the moment, is whether the wealth of information available on the web can be packaged up into a Domesday-style snapshot and preserved forever. The challenges of web preservation are massive.

Like the Domesday project, we could find the digital information almost slipping through our hands. The BBC know that themselves. With a stroke of a pen, it was decided that a significant chunk of British web heritage will be removed when the BBC removes some of its archived pages from the web.

It sounds reasonably sensible to me. I never got why trains from the west used that old-fashioned maroon and beige colour scheme, particularly when (presumably for expediency’s sake) those trains were often used in other parts of the country. Mind you, it will be a shame in a way to lose the distinctive liveries of each franchise.

It does come just a few years after First Group decked out the old Scotrail trains in their own new colour scheme. Impressively, several trains and stations were made over overnight with the old stylised map of Scotland (I presume that is what it was supposed to be) being replaced with First logos left, right and centre.

(Incidentally, the First livery is a vast improvement on the old National Express Scotrail livery. Whoever decided that deep purple goes with peely-wally shades of orange and bluey-green must have been colour blind.)

At least the paint jobs will only be done when a train was due to be painted anyway. And it’s claimed that it will save money in the long run because if and when First Group lose their franchise the livery will remain the same. Having said that, what happens when Transport Scotland decides it’s time for a visual refresh as everyone feels like from time to time? I doubt much will actually be saved.

The reason this is a news story is that George Foulkes has been complaining about the new livery. You see, it depicts a Saltire. And because the SNP are in government this is a bad thing. Apparently it’s all part of an attempt to “brainwash people into independence”

The thing is, Labour also often used national symbols and there is nothing at all wrong with that. At least, you would expect it — particularly when Scotland has such a strong national identity. National symbols are perfect tools for governments to use in their materials / brands / propaganda / what-have-you. As Anseo over at Ideas of Civilisation points out:

What about when McConnell as First Minister had the Saltire adopted as the symbol for promoting Scotland – was this part of the plot?

How about the One Scot (Many Cultures) logo inspired by the saltire, started under the last administration…since that wasn`t under the SNP administration does this not count?

George Foulkes’s argument is further diminished by the fact that Transport Scotland have pointed out that the plans for this revamp began when Labour were still in power. Whoops.

As Ideas of Civilisation points out, this ought not to be an issue. George Foulkes is just frothing at the mouth for no good reason, as seems to be happening quite regularly nowadays.

Anyway, am I the only one who thinks the new design looks nothing like the Saltire? I mean obviously I saw what the design was getting at because I was told it was based on the Saltire. But it looks to me more like two arrowheads pointing at each other.

I mean, if that’s meant to be the Cross of St. Andrew, it’s not because it doesn’t cross. I know that there is a gap between the two carriages that messes it up a bit, but if you continue the lines across they don’t meet. Also, that shade of blue does not look like the official shade of blue of the Flag of Scotland which is Pantone 300. In fact, it looks suspiciously like First Group’s purple. I guess that saves on costs.

Anyway, given that I have now unilaterally established that the train looks nothing like the Saltire, I do wonder what George Foulkes is on about. I find it odd that the sight of something that vaguely looks like the Saltire would “brainwash” him into becoming a nationalist.

George Foulkes’s tie looks vaguely like the Saltire actually… Oh dear… He’s been brainwashed by his own tie!

For some reason that I can’t really fathom, the train was absolutely mobbed today. The station was busy enough — on both platforms. When I got on the train it was already standing room only, before any passengers from Kirkcaldy boarded. It was not as if it was a particularly nice morning or anything. Yet the train was heaving with tourists.

Anyway, the poor train guard had a mountain to climb just to get tickets out to everyone. He had to barge his way past the dozen or so people standing in the “vestibule area”. Once he emerged he was confronted with a large group of people from Cupar who had only gone and bought the wrong tickets. Their tickets were for Dundee, not Edinburgh.

Most guards obviously can’t be arsed with their job. My guess is that some might have pretended not to notice that the tickets were for the wrong destination. After all, this was a group of daytrippers who were, to be fair, of advanced age. Having to shell out for new tickets would put a considerable dampener on their day and, dare I say, edged them a couple of hours closer to death. Other guards might just lose their patience over the matter.

But this guard knew what was what. The passengers seemed pretty upset when they realised what had happened, but the conductor kept the whole situation under control. Most would have mumbled and grunted. Some others might have rolled their eyes and tutted. This one? “It’s all right, it’s all right. It’s all under control. Keep your tickets. You can get a refund at the station.”

Of course, this is just him doing his job. But the unusually high number of passengers made the journey feel a bit chaotic as it was already, and there must have been several passengers on the train who did not yet have a ticket for those all important barriers in Edinburgh. And by the time the whole tangle was sorted out, we were almost halfway to Edinburgh already. I’m not sure how calm I would have stayed.

In time to reach the Forth Bridge, he made an announcement on the loudspeaker system. This is another point where you can usually tell whether the guard’s heart is in it. Sometimes they start with a heavy sigh, making you wonder if the guard is accidentally broadcasting to the entire train when he actually meant to dial 0898 50 50 50. Then they might grumpily plod through the script, as if to signify, “Look here, I really can’t be arsed, so don’t give me shit today, okay?”

Incidentally, I am certain that some members of staff have a bet on to see who can say “Cupar, Leuchars” the quickest. So the next time you’re on the East Coast Main Line around Fife, listen out for the announcement. “Edinburgh *sigh* Waverley… Haaymarket… err, Inverkeithing, gah, Kirkcaldy… Markinch… *cough* Ladybank… Cuparleuchars… Dundee…”

I am also sometimes amused (and this is where I reveal my snobby side) at the way guards try to speak formally and politely but are just incapable of doing so. Many long words are inventerised, causating me to arise my head from my book in amusementation.

There was none of that sort of thing from today’s masterful guard. He was a fine speaker with an authoritative yet friendly voice. In fact, with his distinctive, formal Scottish accent I couldn’t help drawing a comparison with late night radio hero Rhod Sharp.

Yet again, the guard was the calm amid the storm. “Those of you who still do not have tickets, I will endeavour to see you before we arrive at Haymarket and Edinburgh Waverley.” Not only this, but he seemed to be getting into the spirit of the day for many passengers, who were mostly tourists, as I have already noted. Acting as part tour guide, he appended his announcement: “To the group that joined us at Leuchars, you will see the painters hanging off the side of the bridge; I was not jesting about that.”

It was that last comment that made me think, “Wow.” In a hectic situation he managed to find the time to make a frivolous but heart warming comment for the benefit of the daytrippers, and provide on update on it over the loudspeaker system.

I quickly realised that it was silly to be so impressed, because he was only doing his job. But so many people don’t do that. Most guards grumpily check your tickets then sod off to their cabin for the remainder of the journey.

By contrast, here was a person who knew what he was doing. He kept control of a busy train with some upset passengers and still found the time to have a bit of fun with the passengers as well. I found myself appreciative of the fact that the guard put in so much effort and that, horror of horrors, he looked as if he might even enjoy his job — one that most would find unfulfilling.

I think now I understand why lollipop men are sometimes on the honours list.

So what is this mucky sequence of numbers and letters? SH17? N16 63R? 5318008?

It is none of those. Get ready for this. You might have to sit down. Avert your eyes if you are easily offended.

…

SN07

Which apparently says “snot”. Instead of sending old people to their death beds with the shocking SN07, Edinburgh’s new license plates will be changed to TN07. So we are all safe from the spectre of SN07. Hurrah!

Honestly. This makes me want to spend my spare time in Edinburgh next year wiping my bogies all over any car whose license plate begins with “TN07″, just to make a point.

Anyway, in the past I have written in favour of the idea of a Scottish Six. Despite the fact that I wrote that post over two years ago now, my views haven’t changed much.

I keep on meaning to analyse a week’s worth of the 6 O’Clock News to measure just how much of it is actually relevant to Scotland any more. I haven’t properly measured it, mostly because I’m not always in at 6 o’clock, but my guess would be that it is less relevant to Scotland than many people south of the border realise.

That is because I think that more matters are devolved than some people realise. A common perception about the Scottish Parliament is that it is a glorified council (see, for instance, what Nosemonkey wrote here — though I don’t mean to single him out, as a lot of people do it).

That is probably not the perception of most Scots. When people say ‘Parliament’, you know they are talking about the Scottish Parliament. The other place is Westminster. When Jamie Stone gave a talk to the people taking my politics course last year, he claimed that around 80% of legislation that affects our day-to-day lives is made in the Scottish Parliament (I’m not certain about that 80% figure, but it was something like that. Anybody have any firm figures?).

To put it into perspective, think about every time the 6 O’Clock News covers stories about health, education, transport or justice. They are four of the biggest issues around, and they are all devolved. Often, you might go through half of the bulletin without learning about any news that is actually relevant to Scottish viewers.

That is not to say that Scottish viewers shouldn’t learn about health and education policies being pursued in England. You could argue that these debates all have relevance to the way we are governed from Westminster, in terms of the general political climate. Am I right in thinking that most of the major Commons revolts against the Blair government have been to do with devolved issues?

But the issues themselves are, at best, of tangential relevance to Scots. I would be in favour of a Scottish Six, merely in recognition of this fact more than anything else. Ploughing along with the current situation, where Scottish viewers have to sit through several irrelevant news stories every week, is a bit nonsensical.

But

Richard Havers has written this post about the idea of the Scottish Six, and why he thinks it wouldn’t work.

He is right. It seems pretty obvious that Reporting Scotland has enough bother filling half an hour as things stand. All too often they turn to sport after about ten minutes of the bulletin. You can probably expect around half of Reporting Scotland to be filled with boring boring football. At least, that’s what it feels like.

Mind you, a Scottish Six would also cover international affairs. You would hope that it would broadcast salient reports from the London-based 6 O’Clock News for minimal cost, and also that it would be able to use London-based BBC correspondents just as Radio Scotland is able to.

But I still reckon a Scottish Six would only be able to fill around forty-five minutes tops of the hour-long slot. And it would not be as good quality as the London-based 6 O’Clock News (even though the 6 O’Clock News is the worst BBC bulletin going if you ask me — far too tabloidy).

It’s a tough choice, as there are advantages and disadvantages of both options. As such, it is perhaps not surprising that the safe, conservative option of preserving the status quo is chosen. On balance, I am just about in favour of the Scottish Six — but I probably wouldn’t watch it.

Obviously it can give the SNP two extra votes in the Scottish Parliament. But it is only two votes, and still far short of a majority. An SNP–Green coalition is not a good deal stronger than an SNP minority administration.

Meanwhile, I am really scratching my head as to why the Greens want to get involved. When coalition talks started, there was a joke (or was it a joke? Was it real?) that the Greens had two conditions. Those conditions were no more nuclear and fewer carbon emissions — which are both already SNP policies anyway.

If the Greens wanted to maximise their influence (as you would assume they would), you would expect them to at least ask for something a bit more radical, like no second Forth Road Bridge. Obviously no deal would be made in those circumstances because it would make both the SNP about as electorally popular as Hitler, particularly in Fife. But it would be a good starting point for the Greens.

But I’ve not heard anything about demands made by the Greens, besides a few “disagreements about transport policies”, which is a bit vague. It sounds like the Greens are giving up a lot for the sake of not a lot of power (because it would still be a minority administration).

I guess both the Greens and the SNP are hoping that the Lib Dems will come to the table. Their original stance was principled, but the fact that they are refusing to even talk about it is beginning to make them look petulant.

After all, as has been pointed out by many people, any referendum on independence would probably be lost. And a multi-question referendum would give the Lib Dems the perfect opportunity to campaign for more fiscal federalism in Scotland. Even though these issues are technically reserved matters, the debate that would be initiated could also open to door to a campaign to resolve the West Lothian Question via a federal solution in Westminster.

Moreover, there is the fact that the SNP and the Lib Dems are so damn similar, apart from the issue of independence. Would it not, for instance, be a good opportunity to implement a form of Local Income Tax, which both parties favour over the current system?

Meanwhile, those rumours that the Lib Dems’ refusal to talk is really being dictated by Gordon Brown don’t go away. I don’t know how true it is. But the very idea makes me quite uncomfortable, and for as long as the Lib Dems refuse even to talk about it, it begins to look true.

Back to the SNP, and Holyrood Watcher has noted how the SNP now face the harsh realities that come with actually being in power. Compromises to be made, and the fact that there are scarce resources (I sense this is a particular weak point for the SNP!).

The one solid Green demand — to go ahead with Edinburgh’s tram scheme — is uncomfortable for the SNP to take on board. And the SNP appear to be learning that increasing spending in one area involves opportunity costs, ie. decreasing spending in another area. Doh! Why didn’t they think of that before?

Update: Just as I finished writing this post, I saw this from Brian Taylor:

So what is this deal? The SNP and the Greens agree that – they won’t build any new nuclear power stations; they’ll introduce a law to cut climate-change pollution year on year (instead of vague longer-term targets); and they’ll “work to extend the responsibilities of the Scottish Parliament.”

Ha! In other words, no nuclear and fewer carbon emissions. ie. the Greens have extracted bugger all from the SNP. Oh well. And that wording, “work to extend the responsibilities of the Scottish Parliament” — very weak, don’t you think? The Lib Dems would like to do that as well. It looks to me like this the plan — to bring the Lib Dems on board.

Update: Having read the actual agreement (PDF), it is actually a bit stronger than that. It mentions ‘independence’ and contains a strong hint that a referendum is still on the cards.

Granted, I no longer have to go at peak time like I used to. But even so, I thought the service was pretty good. During the day there are usually two or three trains per hour to Edinburgh, which is pretty good going really. Delays seem to be less frequent and carriages seem to be less crowded.

This article from The Guardian also put things into perspective by comparing a Kirkcaldy–Edinburgh journey to other gruelling commutes.

If you are strap-hanging on train lines in England and value the remains of your sanity, look away now. It will do you no good to read about the record 88% satisfaction rates that Scottish rail commuters report, nor the £1.9bn, seven-year programme to introduce extra carriages, longer platforms and new rail lines across Scotland, or that train operators rarely breach their promise that no one should stand for more than 10 minutes. Even a recent BBC Radio Scotland phone-in on commuting struggled to find hair-raising stories. In fact, several callers bandied words such as “excellent” and “very comfortable”.

It’s true really. Things on Scottish trains have been quite good. And the current work going on at Edinburgh Waverley station serves as a constant reminder of the improvements that are being made. I was also becoming sympathetic towards First ScotRail for always being blamed even for things outwith their control.

But it seems as though ever since that article was published it’s been all downhill for Scotland’s rail passengers. The brand new trains that First ScotRail have been buying over the past couple of years are now developing more faults.

I’ve heard some slightly concerning noises, which is nothing much to report in itself. But a couple of weeks ago I was on a train that was late because of “poor engine performance”. The week before that I experienced a bit of a rarity — a train completely failing and being cancelled.

Now, after that period where we were getting loads of new trains, I’ve noticed some increasingly colourful liveries around the place. So we are now getting lots of other train companies’ second hand trains.

Apparently First ScotRail had lots of trouble with peak time Fife Circle services earlier this year. Major signalling failures, particularly at Haymarket, occur far too frequently.

More than one recent derailment at Waverley Station is also a slightly worrying record. And the fact that a heavy freight train found itself heading towards a passenger train is downright scary.

(There have also been some moans on other blogs, here and here.)

Sure, not all of these incidents are the fault of First ScotRail. A lot of the blame seems to rest on Network Rail. There are a few unacceptable problems creeping in for whatever reason, particularly at Edinburgh.

Now there is the strike that is currently taking place. Of course, neither First ScotRail nor Network Rail seem to be particularly to blame for this. That accolade goes to Bob Crow, who appears to have unilaterally ripped up an agreement which was almost reached on Monday. He comes across as power crazy. Mr Crow really must have a massive boner thinking about all the disruption he has caused to the “ordinary working man” today.

I feel the need to defend trains as a form of transport. As I woke up this morning I was listening to the morning phone in on Radio Scotland. It might have been my not-yet-properly-awake early morning head fuzz, but I am sure I heard some woman saying that she had booked a train for the first time in years today, and she will never be taking the train again after today’s strike.

That is a bit of a silly attitude if you ask me. So signal men go on strike on the one day she happens to have booked a train. It is a piece of bad luck, but it is hardly as though railways are particularly susceptible to strike action. I mean, what the hell is she going to do the next time bus drivers strike or something? And then air traffic controllers? With a stubborn attitude like that, she’ll be marooned in whatever wee dump she lives in for the rest of her life.

I have to say, even this bare-bones train service is pretty good. The train I normally take on a Wednesday morning is usually packed out, but today it was almost deserted (this was before the strike began at noon). I got a normal train back in the middle of the afternoon, and it was as if nothing had happened! (Mind you, I dread to think what the last train was like.)

Tomorrow we will still be getting a train an hour (or maybe two; I’m not sure if I’ve read information correctly) between Fife and Edinburgh. It is a step down from what we are normally used to, for sure. But if demand remains as depressed as it was today, it will be no big problem.

What is a real bummer is the fact that I am planning to go to Dundee tomorrow for a friend’s 21^st, and there are no trains going any further than Markinch. This is the first time I will have done anything vaguely fun since new year. I am already making a few sacrifices for it (although I am determined to go, for the sake of my sanity — I’ll burn out otherwise).

It is very annoying for this to coincide with the strike. I will have to take the bus. I absolutely hate buses. They are uncomfortable, full of neds and they always take bloody ages. They are subject to road congestion. They are far less safe than trains. And they are expensive. And I always bash my head on the ceiling when I sit down!

Apparently there are no direct buses from Kirkcaldy to Dundee. You have to get a bus to Glenrothes first. And it takes about two hours. I don’t really have enough time tomorrow as it is. What a pain! Imagine if the trains were always off.

There is a particularly awkward cross-junction near the train station in Kirkcaldy. It’s not really a proper cross-junction, as you can see from the expert artist’s impression on the right.

In addition to the roads going up and down not being aligned with each other, there are high walls holding up the railway bridge. This ensures that nobody can see anything. Inevitably, this is all controlled by traffic lights.

Some bigwig at the council must have decided that this area was too dangerous for pedestrians. So the old traffic lights were taken down and replaced with new ones incorporating pelican crossings. I had assumed that they were actually going to be puffin crossings — I thought all new light controlled pedestrian crossings were puffin crossings, but seemingly not.

But because they are bog-standard pelican crossings and not fancy new puffin crossings, you have to wait until the whole bloody cycle has finished before you can cross. But by the time that has finished, you have probably taken your chance and run across the road. It wasn’t so bad before because there was a traffic island there. Back then you could cross the road one half at a time. Now you have to wait until both sides of the road are clear.

My brother also takes the train to university every day, and he is most unimpressed as well. In fact, he reckons it has added five minutes onto his journey time! I wouldn’t go that far, but it certainly is an inconvenience. Not only does it piss me — the pedestrian — off, but it also pisses the drivers off as well.

You see, inevitably I do the trick of pressing the ‘wait’ button on the first of the crossings that I come to — not the one that I use, but since they are all connected it does the job. But the drivers don’t know that. They must think I am a pesky kid pressing the ‘wait’ button just to annoy the drivers. Of course I am not childish enough to do that any more. I grew out of that at least two years ago.

And another thing — the green man takes so bloody long to make his appearance that the pedestrian has probably already crossed the road. It is not unusual for me to have walked about 100 yards when I hear the belated “beep beep beep beep” from the pelican crossings. This means that all the drivers have to wait while the green man attends to absolutely nobody crossing the road.

In short, this new pelican crossing costs everybody time and has — with the removal of the traffic island — reduced road safety. Way to go, Fife Council!

Oh, by the way. Looking at my diagram, can you guess which part of the road pedestrians usually cross over? Yes, it’s the bit in the middle, from the right of the road on the top to the left of the road on the bottom. And that is the one part of this road that doesn’t have a pelican crossing on it!

Standinaqueue has featured cashpoints in Edinburgh, but they have not covered the most poorly positioned cashpoints in the city. I urge William Deed to check them out if he gets the chance.

They are at the Bank of Scotland on the corner of George IV Bridge and Chambers Street. I pass them almost every day in my travels to and from university. Usually I am rushing to catch a train so that I can avoid the dreaded 35 minute wait at Waverley Station.

You might think, oh well, cashpoints outside a bank — not much unusual in that. But directly (and I mean directly) opposite these cashpoints is a bus shelter! When there is a bus shelter on a pavement, it probably halves the width of the pavement. So space on this patch of pavement is already scarce.

But with the cashpoints occupying the same space, any room there might have been for actual pedestrians to use the pavement disappears as you have people arching over and taking great care to shield their PINs.

And then there is the queue for the cashpoints. But this is where it gets even worse. Because on this piece of pavement you might have about half a dozen people waiting for a bus. So there is no space to queue for the cash machines. And if there is, how do you know that you are joining the queue for the cash machine and not the one for the number 42?

The answer is that you don’t, and chaos ensues.

Meanwhile, stuck in the middle of it all are the poor pedestrians (like me) trying to make their way past. Sometimes, nothing short of a very loud “excuse me please” is required in order to remind this mob that they are actually blocking a pavement. I might not be a important person but I bloody well want to catch my train.

George IV Bridge in general is a terrible place to be a pedestrian. It’s the sort of street where, particularly if you’re in a hurry, everybody seems to be conspiring to get in your way. People will come out of some restaurant or newsagent right in front of you, then proceed to walk very slowly.

“Just walk past them,” you say? Hah! Easier said than done. Besides the cash machine / bus shelter double whammy, there is some scaffolding there at the moment. There is also a bicycle rank, meaning that people will be fumbling to get on or off their bicycles. It’s also quite a busy street in general. Plus, if I were to trip over somebody I could find myself falling to my death on the Cowgate.

Sometimes you can get past, but often my only course of action is to do the walking version of the emergency stop (stop dead on your tiptoes), roll my eyes, and raise my arms in a way that says, “Why the bloody fuck are you getting in my way?! Your sorry, slow walking arse isn’t fit to be on the pavement.”

Yesterday I discovered a Facebook group called I Secretly Want To Punch Slow Walking People In The Back Of The Head. I would join, but it’s not much of a secret that I want to punch slow walking people in the back of the head.