Currently, I’m on the (Virgin?) Cross-country service 11:05 service from Edinburgh to Birmingham New Street. Marianne the Cuddly Pig is safely in my big rucsac, with a packed lunch featuring tidbits from last night’s feast from the Indian Cavalry Club.

I bought my tickets online – total cost £43. At no point in this process was I offered a chance to book passage for my bicycle. (I intend to start cycling around Edinburgh.) Later I phoned Virgin’s telesales line to see if a human could offer me a booking. After a number of attempts to tell the customer-service-bot my booking reference, we got to my real question: could I add a bike to my return booking? The flatly-delivered answer was ‘no’. I asked why I couldn’t amend this booking and was told ‘You had the opportunity when you phoned to make your booking.’

I explained that I had booked online and that no such opportunity had arisen. This was met with nothing positive.

I asked the CS-bot to convey to his company my dissatisfaction with the lack of opportunity to make or add on cycle bookings. This was met with apparent incomprehension.

At the end of the conversation, the CS-bot asked if it could ‘help me further’. Pointing out that the CS-bot hadn’t yet provided any help and so was logically incapable of providing **more** help would not have benefitted my blood pressure of its comprehension of simple logic so I ended the call.

This morning I turned up at Edinburgh Waverley, hoping to talk face-to-face with a human. I was served in the main advanced-booking office by Mr James Davidson. He booked my bike’s travel very quickly and was polite, decent and understanding. I’d like to commend him and his colleagues to all out in cyber-land.

Courtesy of

You Are a Question Mark

You seek knowledge and insight in every form possible. You love learning. And while you know a lot, you don’t act like a know it all. You’re open to learning you’re wrong.You ask a lot of questions, collect a lot of data, and always dig deep to find out more. You’re naturally curious and inquisitive. You jump to ask a question when the opportunity arises. Your friends see you as interesting, insightful, and thought provoking. (But they’re not always up for the intense inquisitions that you love!) You excel in: Higher education You get along best with: The Comma

This post is courtesy of the free broadband on a FifeScotish bus from Crail to St Andrews. Yeehah!

Picture the scene: an adolescent Bruce in his friend’s room, being introduced to all sorts of interesting things. Two of the audio delights were The Smiths’ eponymous first album and AC/DC’s High Voltage.

Digital versions of these records slithered into my hands today. Joy almost unconfined. Bagpipe solo, anyone?

Earlier this month, I was asked to procure some photographic models. So here’s how I dressed for this. You can see a key to what a good pander wears and carries here. There is one (maybe two) mistakes in the inventory: a small prize to the first to spot either of these.

On my rounds through Auld Reekie, I saw a biog-cycle and proof that sunbeds can indeed turn users into wrinkled old bags.

(In case you were wondering, the models I was attempting to procure were all foodstuffs to appear in a cookery book. A pander I may be but a pimp? Never!)

I’ve never been convinced by the idea of sour(ed) cream. Even though I’ve enjoyed a lot of dairy and soya yoghurt, the thought of fermented-fatty-dairy-product repulsed me. However, I found in the fridge a pack of Tofutti Sour Supreme and so included it in the fixings for tacos I was preparing. Revelation! It was cool and delicious. My hostess, who enjoys her dairy and meat products, was also impressed by it. So, as well as their slices of soya cheese, which have made possible delicious vegan pizze, I thoroughly commend Tofutti Org for this. Cheers Mr Metz!

The Mill is on its way to becoming much more mac-tastic. In addition to the current Pismo (400MHz G3 laptop) and Quicksilver (800MHz G4 desktop), a rather shiny 17-inch 1·67GHz G4 is on its way to to my hostess.

At the same time, she’s bought a new flat-screen monitor but there’s a slight hitch – the Quicksilver’s videoport is ADC but the monitor has DVI input. So until the relevant adaptor arrives, Quicksilver is hooked up to an old HP CRT monitor. This, along with the rest of HP PC, is due to disappear soon, leaving this flat almost entirely mac-flavoured. The exceptions are occasional visits by my hostess’ work PC laptop, her ever-present blackberry and my almost-mothballed Palm Zire.

And why is the Zire moribund? It’s still as good as it ever was, and it has been a very useful thing for almost five years. (I hope I can find it a home where it will continue to be cherished – any takers out there?) However, thanks to my fabby hostess and family, I have an iPhone. Music-player, phone, web-browser, enough of a PDA and enough of a camera, all in one! I love it to bits already. The only serious drawback I’ve found is its requirement for USB2 on the mac it links to.

However, for anyone who wants to wander around listening to music, surfing and emailing, it’s just the job! Thinking of which, I really need one of those job-things soon…

Tomorrow is a whole new day, banana-wise.

So I emailed a friend the following:

Just received spam offering military green lasers. You, I’m sure, want one!

He replied:

It would complete the set…

Get me 500 and aim them at the moon.

Together we may yet defeat the threat from the moon-people.

I say ‘people’ but they hardly deserve to be called that, the alien scum.

Many thanks for this most important information. Without your help (and the lasers) we will assuredly be living under the yoke of those oppressive lunar fiends by the end of next year. Mark my words.

Oh sanity, where is thy sting?

BTW, my brother is home from Iraq. He shouldn’t have to go on active service for another two years.

Just a note about one of the tastiest dals I’ve made recently: a very rich flavour and no-where near as much fire as I normally like. This is apparently not too far from gujurati style.

Ingredients

• 228g oily toor dal
• 114g sweet potato, chopped
• 3 tsp cashew nuts
• 2 tsp oil
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 1 tsp chopped garlic
• 400g tin of chopped tomatoes
• 1 tsp ginger paste
• 1 tsp hot chilli powder
• 1 tsp ground turmeric
• 1 tsp jaggery goor (palm sugar) – you could use normal brown sugar
• 1 tsp lemon juice
• 1 tsp coriander paste

1. Wash and drain the dal.
2. Place it in a pan with 750 ml water, bring to the boil and simmer for 20 minutes.
3. Rinse and drain the dal.
4. Meanwhile, place the sweet potato in another pan with a modicum of water, bring to the boil and simmer until very soft, then drain the sweet potato.
5. Fry the cumin seeds until they begin to pop, then add the garlic, ginger paste, chilli powder and turmeric.
6. Lightly fry this mixture until the curry scent begins to evolve, then add the tomatoes.
   Fry this mixture lightly until it has reduced and thickened significantly.
7. Meanwhile lightly toast the cashew nuts in a dry frying-pan
8. Mash the lentils and sweet potato, then add the tomato mix, cashew nuts and jaggery goor.
9. Add a modicum of water, bring to the boil and lightly simmer while you cook the accompaniments.
10. Just before serving, add in the lemon juice and coriander paste.

I served this with couscous and boiled curly cale.

• 150g dry couscous
• 200ml hot vegetable stock
• 1 tsp lemon juice
• 1 tsp coriander paste

Mix all the ingredients in a large bowl, cover with cling-film and leave for 10-15 minutes.

OK, nothing earth-shattering but both my hostess (who has a very low capsaicin tolerance) and I (who likes a bit of burn) enjoyed this.