"spirituality is a slippery word these days, embracing everything from monasticism to wind chimes, but i've never been able to resist a little tinkering under the bonnet of the soul."
nick's second book, adrift in caledonia: boat-hitching for the unenlightened, charts his unlikely voyage of 2500 miles in scottish seas, having left his home in edinburgh to blag, charm or barge his away aboard a barge/yacht/submarine/steamer/catamaran/lifeboat/kayak/cargo boat/curragh and a fair few more sea vessels.
pondering interconnectedness, the mystery of h2o and the buoyancy of the human soul, nick's literary voyage roves and roams from marvellous and unexpected shores. it's a delight. visit amazon and check it out. hearing nick read is a treat, and if you find yourself at the edinburgh book festival or greenbelt in august, track him down.
i can hear billy, the sixty-year old car mechanic in the yard behind my house, tinkering under a bonnet. that yard is his haven. he spends hours in there, working on cars, chatting with an assortment of older gents who dander down the alley each day and, when the sun sets, painting and varnishing old kettles with all the precision of a renaissance artist. he taps and drills, chisels and welds. occasionally he drops what i imagine to be a wrench on the concrete. a metallic thhhwinggg reverberates from the brickwork. like a weird call to prayer. or at least to getting out of pyjamas.
