This little effort is for the period ending 24thApril 2010. Once again I’ve been able to include a small named article which is a bit “tongue in cheek”- Robin Fatal-crash Driver Sends Warning Over Level Crossings A young driver who caused the death of two friends when he crashed his car into a high-speed train has sent a warning to other motorists in a hard-hitting safety film. Richard Fleming, 20, features in the film made for Network Rail, which is to be used to educate other drivers about the dangers of level crossings. Two years ago he was given a five-year custodial sentence after he admitted causing death by dangerous driving. In the film he says the crash at Delny level crossing, near Invergordon, had left him “broken and buckled”. Fleming, of Tain, Easter Ross, had been giving his friends a lift to college when he drove over an automatic level crossing as the warning lights were flashing, ploughing into a train. The crash, in February 2007, killed 17-year-old Paul Oliver at the scene. Another passenger, Allan Thain, also 17, died five days later in hospital. In the DVD, Fleming warns other drivers: “You don‘t want to lose any of your close friends through fooling about. Speaking about the accident, he said: “I was just buckled and broken. It will always be with me emotionally.” City Loyalist March Passes Off Peacefully An annual loyalist march through Inverness passed off peacefully at the weekend. Despite claims that support for the Apprentice Boys of Derry is growing in the north of Scotland, most of the 200 or so marchers on Saturday were from the central belt. The event was led by the City of Inverness Campsie Club. The band marched for an hour and 20 minutes from Green Drive, down Culduthel Road and Castle Street and along Ness Bank, and the event culminated at Portland Place. Nearing the end, several followers broke away to hug a small group of supporters who were applauding the procession and waving a Ross County banner shortly after the club’s Scottish Cup win over Celtic. Event organiser Stewart MacColl said: “We had a magnificent turnout. “They came from all over – Fife, Glasgow, Londonderry and a lot of locals. We had about 45 or 50 of our own brothers here, which is an excellent turnout. We’ve got over 50 members in the Highlands. It’s growing all the time.” Campsie clubs take their name from Henry Campsie, the first to shed blood in defence of Derry Protestants when the Irish city was under siege from a Catholic-led army in 1688. Warning of Chaos Over New School Curriculum Teachers are warning of classroom chaos if the Scottish Government presses ahead with the introduction of a new curriculum for secondary schools. The stark prediction comes with the publication of a survey of secondary teachers that reveals 87% of them lack the confidence to deliver the Curriculum for Excellence. Michael Russell, the Education Secretary, has already said he believes schools are ready to deliver the curriculum at the start of the new school year in August. Last month he announced a 10-point plan to help with its introduction, including moves to give local authorities a share of £3 million to help train staff. However, a joint survey by the Government and the Scottish Secondary Teachers’ Association (SSTA) has found the vast majority of its members still do not feel ready. However, the Scottish Government, which will publish its own survey of teacher attitudes today, said the concerns of SSTA members were already well known. A spokeswoman said every secondary school that wanted support would receive it. We Should Appreciate the Local Cuisine in the North and West By Iain Maciver Lochinver has never really struck me as a haven of fine dining. Don’t get me wrong, I have not been there for many years, so it may well have a fine restaurant or two. However, now it has got itself an Albert Roux restaurant. Knowing the Rouxs, I am sure it will be nothing short of superb, because I have bitter memories of one wet winter’s evening tramping around that particular port and completely failing to find a suitable place to eat. In fact, we failed to find any place within taxi distance of the stag party’s B&B. I name drop because the legendary French father of modern cuisine and his brother, Michel, have both cooked for me. It was at the opening of a hotel in Surrey. They popped in unexpectedly to endorse the proprietor and allowed themselves to be corralled into the kitchen to give the unsuspecting and unfortunate chefs a series of impromptu, if slightly loud, tips. The result was an exquisite lunch for the press, most of whom had already been for a Big Mac with double fries and mayonnaise before they came Some Scottish Items #52 1 down from London because they expected a long, boring, hungry shift. Not me, though. Loved it. You thought you had some unsophisticated oik writing here, didn’t you? Not at all. I have been cooked for by the very best in their particular culinary field. And I don’t just mean the French, either. So here’s a hot tip of my own. There is just time to try the very best of rustic Tuscan fare before the owner retires, so I recommend the Pot Del Caffè, a fine Italian eaterie which you will find at 5-7 Kenneth Street here in Stornoway. The genial proprietarios are Signor P. Scaramuccia and la moglie Mairi. Tell them I sent you. And tell them I said they should make you a rullo della pancetta affumicata. Mwah. You will not be disappointed. Or, if you are really pushing the boat out for a special occasion or something like that, just tell the signor that you would like to sample his rullo con la salsiccia. Heavenly. However, as I am on the subject of culinary delights, I did on Friday evening discover yet another magnificent eating place that if it was a commercial organisation would be up there with the Scaramuccias and the Roux brothers. I was at that union where Garynahine and Plasterfield were joined in holy matrimony. Everyone was in great form. Reverend Stephen Macdonald, of Carloway, proved that he is probably the very best minister in Scotland at conducting weddings. His combination of humour and due ceremony put Joey, my sister-in-law, in such a tizzy that she did not wait for him to say to groom Aneas that he could kiss the bride. Fed up waiting, she just grabbed Aneas and snogged the bewildered fellow. At the Breasclete hall, the community association are driven by some unfathomable desire to swell the girths of the guests at the festivities. It is probably some long-forgotten longing that is stirred in those who spend much of their lives in the shadow of the ancient megalithic puzzle that is the Callanish Stones. And on Friday, I have to report, they succeeded. First, there was the dinner. I went for the smoked salmon thingummy and then the chicken in a whatch-youmaycallit sauce. That particular three-course feast ended with dessert then coffee then cake, and other tasty stuff. Then the dance. Even maws like me and Cudaig were persuaded to shake our thang. Kenny Callanish and his crew are obviously acutely aware that the Canadian Barn Dance, shaking our bits or just using your elbow in the bar are really very strenuous and energy-sapping activities. So they laid on a humongous and reviving mid-dance buffet. The pudding had still not hit the bottom, yet there they were wheeling on to the floor tables groaning with finger food. High-end fare that you remember because you normally see it only in soft-focus as Nigella Lawson pushes it gently, ever so gently, through her immaculately-glossy lips. Actually, maybe that’s just me. Forget I said that. Everyone looked at the tables of food and gasped. They thought: “Oh no. Couldn’t possibly. I’m still full. What are they thinking of putting all that food there at this time of night?” Yet this was community entertaining, Breasclete-style. They know that it does not matter whether you still feel full from your dinner, if someone comes and plonks down salvers of pates and skewers of chicken satay and baby sausages then you are going to try just one. You are, aren’t you? Be honest. After all, it would be rude to snub the hard-working caterers sweating like galley slaves in the kitchen. They had obviously gone to a lot of effort. And, finding “just one” somewhat moreish, everyone just flung their usual caution to the wind that blew gently off Loch Roag and dug in. Even a couple of calorie-counting waifs whose biggest meal in the past month had been a half-tub of cottage cheese with watercress on the side were filling their ill-fitting boots. It was fantastic. Also on the plus side was the fact that it helped soak up the whisky and brandy that everyone seemed to be sipping so we would all feel better in the morning. Well, you don’t want to snub the hard-working bar staff. No no, that would just be rude, too. I did have an anxious moment or two at the main meal. I was flapping about like a welly in a washing machine because I had a speech to make but, as that sticky toffee pudding slipped down, I felt that old familiar warm sensation spreading all the way down to the farthest and most delicate regions of my anatomy.