Sir Bernard is not for an early bath

Published on Wednesday 23 July 2008 11:18

CAUGHT up with Sir Bernard Crick at an art exhibition in Dundas Street deli Glass & Thompson and found him still steeped in politics at 78. Well, what else, considering he's been a Labour Party member from 17?

Enjoying his retirement in Edinburgh, Bernard's form is impressive. Former Professor of Politics at London's Birkbeck University, he was an adviser to Neil Kinnock, David Blunkett was one of his students (slipped up there) and he wrote a biography of George Orwell.

His real claim to fame, though, was that he was a major player in the campaign to save the Stockbridge Glenogle Baths from closure. Says Bernard, still a swimmer there: "Aly Bain (the fiddler) and I hatched the campaign in the sauna. Aly was in his trunks, I was in my suit. But the baths survived, as did my suit."

Talking survivals, owner of the premises Russell Glass is a New Zealander and hasn't had a shred of lamb over the door in his 14 years there.

Notes for jazzers

It's not all bums and tums at the Sheraton's much-vaunted spa. The summer long the hotel is doing Sunday jazz brunches and the guys who have this gig every Sabbath from 1pm till 2.30pm are The Rhythm Kings, who bill themselves as "Scotland's Kings of Dixieland Jazz".

Royalty in their own right. They've been dispensing their kind of jazz since the old king died, so what the Sheraton customers are hearing while they tuck into the buffet are crusty old standards like Ain't Misbehavin', Black and Blue and Georgia. Sounded like gems from the George Melly songbook.

The trio, tucked into a corner of the restaurant looking into Festival Square, were Ian Boyter (tenor sax), Kit Carey (tenor guitar) and Tom Evans (bass). Quality stuff that wouldn't go amiss in the Jazzfest, but they've never been asked.

By the way, Spain's sunny Isabel Gonzalez has arrived as restaurant/bar assistant manager from Hadrians. The Balmoral's loss, Sheraton's gain.

Afterwords . .

. . . how people can be so cruel, it's difficult to fathom. In the thespian jungle they said of Donald Sinden, "a ham so rare, he cannot be cured". I fondly recall interviewing Sir Donald in a restaurant and his distinctive voice was more palatable than anything on the menu.