A Bonny Scottish Holiday (Part I)
Ben and I have just returned from the most wonderful weekend away. Scotland offered us a much-varied experience, ranging from the immense luxury of a classy hotel in Edinburgh’s city centre, to the not-so-luxurious b&b that we happened upon in Perth. Thankfully, there is one running theme when you go to Scotland, and that is the sheer beauty of the place, so whichever side of the spectrum we were on, happiness was sure to prevail.
Thursday night was spent making the comparatively short journey to Leeds, where Sam (after a quite strange and very stoned game of Buffy the vampire slayer top trumps) made us comfortable in his living room. Mental note number one: If you are prepared to move to this slightly grey city, the average wage will allow you a beautiful Victorian two bed house, complete with bakelite doorknobs, a garden with nothing short of day Of The Triffids poppies and about 10 times my weight in cast iron fire places. Which is saying something.
By the time the sun had risen on Leeds we were back on the road to Scotland, deciding to avoid the boredom that the motorway offers and take the “scenic” route. What entailed was nothing short of entertaining, what with the rollercoaster roads, the just shy of inbred villages, deep fried haggis (ben’s stomach is clearly constructed of steel) and the sheep count reaching quite staggering wooly preportions. Arriving in Edinburgh, I felt as though I had come home somehow, so suited to me as it was. I think that Ben had known this might be the case and he allowed me hours of wandering, proudly leading me up intricate cobbled streets. It was here that I found the holy grail of Vintage clothing shops, neatly placed in one of the oldest parts of the city. Where most shops of this sort have taken advantage of just how fashionable antique clothing is at the moment, the lady (calmly perched on a burgundy velvet chair, sewing and humming, silver strands of hair falling about her pretty face) that runs ‘15, Grassmarket’ has chosen not to exploit her wonderful wares but keep these sumptuous items available to the masses. Or anyone who happens to enter her little treasure trove of delights. It was easy to see that her passion was lace, as almost every surface was adorned in some way, but I soon found my place with a jumble of dresses hanging from an old mahogany coat-rack. Whilst admiring the chiffon and brocade, the silk and the satin, some small thing caught my eye on the other side of the room. There I found a 1930s jacket so perfect I almost bought it without seeing if it fit. As the polka-dot crepe swathed my shoulders, I knew I was in love. My purse a mere £12 lighter I bounded out on to the street, delighted to my very core.
Saturday found us in Perth and at the aforementioned B&B. To be honest, it wasn’t bad at all and quite sufficient to our needs (drunken sleeping, chiefly), but the bar downstairs was definitely of the sort that wouldn’t have been complete without pork scratchings and Miss June from Bognor Regis. We were informed that our “continental” breakfast would be “brrrought t’ yer in the the night - ye can ‘ave it in yer rrroom come the morrrning”; as we doled ourselves up for the evening’s wedding reception, our only worry was at just what time this croissant-carrying Santa would arrive.
And so to the wedding we went.
WE WON!
As all good victories are, it was a close call between us and another team (lucky for us "Quiz-Team Aguilera" were absent that week, otherwise we may have had a second challenger). Jumpy made a welcome return to our quiz table and dutifully went up to answer the tiebreak question:
In which year did Madness release the hit single 'House Of Fun?'*
After a short deiberation, his answer was deemed entirely correct and we were declared the winners. Much cheering ensued and were walked home feeling every bit the 25-pound winners that we were.
*1982
Tonight will be my second visit to The Prince public house, and to the excellent pop quiz hosted there on tuesday evenings. Last week, we came second, but we are pulling out every stop known to us to win tonight! I have been drafted in to cover the "under 25" bracket (and with that all topics relating to such embarassing subjects as Take That), but I'm okay with that. Will let you know how it goes...
I Write, Therefore I am?
It sure as hell doesn't feel like it at the moment. Have taken to D.H. Lawrence to cure this.
I have had a week of coincidences. This is not a complaint by any stretch - it is these things that add interest to life, and indeed caused the people of bygone eras to invoke superstition and warrant praying to all sorts of gods. while these last seven days have hardly entered the realms of folklore, it has definitely made for a less boring week and may have even reduced the yawn factor at work.
1: People On The Silverlink
I have lost count of the amount of times that I have noticed a fellow passenger on this malodorous vessel only to encounter them again the very same day. Model with portfolio. John Lennon look-alike. Goth man; every one of them destined to come back into my life for some reason. I did think that perhaps it was just because they flashed a light into my otherwise tunnel-visioned journey to work that I would notice them again, but the idea of fate is so much more fun.
2: Tyabbs
This heaven for curry eaters has recently reopened under the highly original name of “New Tyabbs” to the delight of anyone who arrived at the restaurant without a reservation. The refurbishment has made it possible for twice as many diners to enjoy their spicy gastronomics and was a subject of debate around my dinner table the other night. The debate being that we couldn’t for the life of us remember it’s name. Last weekend, both the Guardian and the Observer ran restaurant reviews featuring it.
3:A Reoccurring Word
One day you wake up and everyone is saying “flowery”. Well at least in this instance they were. I’m sure you have had something like this happen to you before; a word you had previously forgotten about is suddenly everywhere. In books, the television, on the side of the packet of cheerios. What made the word flowery particularly interesting this week is that two people used it in totally different contexts - one to describe the wine we were enjoying and the other to interpret the compilation of psychedelic music I was playing that afternoon.
Like I said, none of this is a complaint.
This morning was defined by the certainty of a Labour government for a record breaking third term. While I am not entirely opposed to this (in terms of it being the lesser of the likely-to-succeed evils), it was with an undisguisable cringe that I imagined the stench of ego that had, without a doubt, stifled number 10 this morning.
Somewhere in the background, unnoticed by the celebrating PM and his family, the fax machine calmly whirring away; the Whitehouse crest, followed closely by the words: 'We did it, Bud!'
Doctor Dolittle
I went to the doctors yesterday expecting to leave with two crisp new prescriptions; in actual fact, I left with a list of hayfever medicines you can buy over the counter, a blood test and a frown!
