Here's a thing: if in Aberdeen and looking for a taxi, be careful about using Comcab (353535) if you have to be somewhere on pain of death or flight check-in.
I had a taxi booked for 8.00 am on Saturday to take me to the airport for the 9.30 flight home to Shetland. Admittedly, it was the morning after the horribly busy office-party-hell-night and it was snowing heavily, but panic set in by 8.30 am when nothing had arrived, despite three calls to Comcab control.
I get very tense in such situations, but when the taxi driver finally arrived (from Huntly) I was so relieved I gibbered with gratitude rather than rage. He explained: Desite my having booked the taxi five days previously, I hadn't really booked a taxi; I had simply booked a time slot. Comcab is just a clearing house for individual self-employed cabbies, and unless there are taxis actually out there, your having booked a time slot becomes irrelevant: There was no-one around to pick me up from the (generally very good) Patio Hotel because they'd all gone home to bed after one of the year's busiest nights.
Anyway. Got to Dyce, checked in and the flight took off about 45 minutes late, after a delay on the tarmac due to Sumburgh shutting. It was bumpy, but we made it. The drive home to Hillswick was hairy in a small sports hatchback with inordinately wide wheels. But I made it, complete with large quantities of very smelly Ian Mellis cheese.
Sunday, and I was back into Lerwick to pick up Magnus from the boat. His first trip home since leaving for uni. The snow had largely melted but in any case I had the Toyota Hilux Susan's currently using following her last accident. It's marvellous - a relief - to have everyone home.
Broons fever continues to grow on the eve of their 70th birthday...and the TV documentary on the 30th. I was asked to write a piece for the Sunday Herald on the wonders of Glebe Street, which was published today: embarrassingly inaccurate intro - I'm NOT in charge - but check it out here if you so desire.