The Broken Journey

The third book in the Aletheia Adventure Series sees the return of Jack Merryweather and Timmy Trial from Book 1. Just before Christmas, Jack and Timmy find themselves in the land of Err, in the middle of a ferocious snowstorm. They are lost and alone, and courageously set out to find their friends who are part of the Christmas mission in the town of Broken. There are many dangers and troubles on their journey, and, at last, they are so fiercely attacked by the Meddlers of Err that they can go no further. But there is a purpose in their strange and broken journey: Jack and Timmy must take one more trek into danger to help someone who is badly broken. They really need rescuing themselves, so how can they rescue the lost? Do the two boys have the faith and courage to battle against the creatures of Err? And will they ever make it to safety in time for Christmas? Through the adventure, this book explores truth from the Bible. This book can be enjoyed on its own - without reading the rest of the series.

Olaedo is seventeen years old, tall, black, intelligent, and very beautiful. Her name personifies beauty. While others were created, she was moulded by God Himself on a Sunday when He was most happy and pleased. Born into an affluent family, she is the only daughter. Olaedo’s birth brings immense joy to her mother, who bore five sons before her. So when Olaedo arrived, she was a bundle of joy and a jewel of inestimable value. Her beauty is a blessing as well as a distraction. She finds it difficult to walk the streets and constantly receives embarrassing stares from admirers. Fights break out among those seeking her attention. She becomes the legendary tall and beautiful tree that can never hide itself in the forest. It is said that her charm and beauty would make a eunuch renounce his vow of celibacy. As the beautiful Olaedo grows up, and boys will not let her be, she is determined to remain chaste so she can become a nun. But her mother, who missed the opportunity of studying to be a lawyer, insists that her daughter must become a lawyer since she missed the opportunity herself.

This is the second volume of Kenneth Roy's magisterial trilogy on the history of Scotland since the Second World War. The first volume, The Invisible Spirit: A Life of Post-War Scotland 1945-75, was met with immediate acclaim. This new volume brings the story much closer to the present day and traces enthrallingly the social, political and cultural threads which lead directly to the Scotland we live in today. Along the way the author describes the oil boom in Shetland, Scotland's doomed campaign at the World Cup in Argentina, the Orkney child sex abuse scandal, the Lockerbie bombing, the massacre of schoolchildren and a teacher at Dunblane, the cloning of Dolly the sheep, and much more. Kenneth Roy uses his record of events to mount a searing critique of the Scottish body politic of the time and its key personalities and institutions. In sparkling, often very funny prose the country is anatomized in a way which will make uncomfortable reading for many current politicians and public office-holders today. The book culminates in a referendum and the inauguration of the new Scottish parliament. Echoes of present-day aspirations, antagonisms and concerns are all too evident.

Each time I begin a book of travel I search for the reasons that sent me awandering. Foolishness, for I ought to know by this time the wander fever was born in my blood; it is in the blood of my sister and brothers. We were brought up in an inland town in Victoria, Australia, and the years have seen us roaming all over the world. I do not think any of us has been nearer the North Pole than Petropaulovski, or to the South Pole than Cape Horn—children of a sub-tropical clime, we do not like the cold—but in many countries in between have we wandered. The sailors by virtue of their profession have had the greater opportunities, but the other five have made a very good second best of it, and always there has been among us a very understanding sympathy ‘with the desire that is planted in each and all to visit the remote corners of the earth. Anybody can go on the beaten track. It only requires money to take a railway or steamer ticket, and though we by no means despise comfort—indeed, because we know something of the difficulties that beset the traveller beyond the bounds of civilisation, we appreciate it the more highly—still there is something else beyond comfort in life. Wherein lies the call of the Unknown? To have done something that no one else has done—or only accomplished with difficulty? Where lies the charm? I cannot put it into words—only it is there, the “something calling—beyond the mountains,” the “Come and find me” of Kipling. That voice every one of the Gaunts hears, and we all sympathise when another one goes.

Each time I begin a book of travel I search for the reasons that sent me awandering. Foolishness, for I ought to know by this time the wander fever was born in my blood; it is in the blood of my sister and brothers. We were brought up in an inland town in Victoria, Australia, and the years have seen us roaming all over the world. I do not think any of us has been nearer the North Pole than Petropaulovski, or to the South Pole than Cape Horn—children of a sub-tropical clime, we do not like the cold—but in many countries in between have we wandered. The sailors by virtue of their profession have had the greater opportunities, but the other five have made a very good second best of it, and always there has been among us a very understanding sympathy 'with the desire that is planted in each and all to visit the remote corners of the earth.