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Scotland
2003
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Drying out somewhere in
Wester Ross after being caught in a torrential downpour.
The Wester Ross trail is fantastic to ride on a bike, but this was when I discovered after a torrential rainstorm that my waterproofs had a faulty seam in the crotch. It's fascinating to note just how much water a pair of Marks & Spencer undies can absorb, especially the comfort fit ones for the fatter arse. Damp patches were left behind on cafe seats and nobody appreciated my intense discomfort. Some people actually laughed at my plight. .............The bastards!
One of the Lochs on the Wester Ross trail. The roads up here are a bikers
Nirvana.........
Unless your name's Pete and you've got Barracudas on your bike
Ullapool
Somewhere a village is missing an idiot
Loch Broom, Ullapool
This was our first visit to
Ullapool and of
course it couldn't pass without a few memorable happenings.
Firstly our hotel, "The Caledonian" was very nice but they could really do with having a word
with the cleaning staff, because the bog in my room had a "Wee jobbie"
lying in wait for me as a surprise welcoming present. To be
perfectly accurate it wasn't actually that "wee" a jobbie, it
must have made some poor sod's eyes water when they passed it!
The
rest of the room wasn't that clean either but, we didn't get fleas or
anything so it wasn't all bad.
We refrained from
eating there though, just in case it was the cook
who'd left the turd in my pan....there was no sign that whoever
laid it had washed their hands. We have standards!
The Caledonian.
You'd
come here for a first visit, maybe for a second - but never for a turd!
"Overlooks
the Harbour" it says in the advertising blurb..... Hmm!
Someone has
a great imagination.
Stretching the truth a bit that.
The Ferry boat Inn on Shore
Street
The Seaforth
In light of the the lurking jobbie affair, choice of eating establishment for
the evening was the Ferryboat Inn
on Shore Street overlooking
Loch Broom ... Now there's a decent ale house. No carpets or home
comforts and no errant turds, just a good selection of ales &
whisky and I'm sure they'd even provide a spitoon in
the corner if you ask. They do damned fine grub as well, sausages
were recommended, but given the turd incident I though it best to pass on them for the time
being!
After eating we toddled off in the direction of some music we could hear filling the night air, and ended up in the local fish and chip cafe The Seaforth, here they clear all the tables out of the way apparently on Friday nights to make room for local musicians to play. On this occasion it was a rock band, can't remember who they were but once we'd sunk a few beers and the tinnitus had kicked in they really weren't that bad.
This was also where we met the really odd little Scotsman who was adamant that he once owned a "Norton Ariel"......... Really? There was also another guy there who was a miniature Dez, in fact he was a perfect Dez "Mini Me". We grabbed this photo of him, just to prove the uncanny likeness.........
Pete and me being the eldest started to get tired by midnight, so we ambled off
back to the hotel for a cup of Horlicks & a choccy biccy to wash down the
Sanatogen, before climbing in to our pits.
I also had one last turd in the pan check before settling in for the
night.
Wesley and Dez had been adopted by a local
wandering wedding
party - sort of stag night thing. There were women there so maybe they do stag
nights differently in Scotland, or maybe it was just that the lassies
had beards and moustaches. They were hoping to get invited
back to wherever the party was going to end up, so tagged on to the entourage as
it left the bar. It was an incident outside involving a girl who had yelled,
"Well F*ck me!" that scuppered their plans........ I think it was
Wesley who'd shouted back, "Certainly m'dear, where would you like it?" Some of the guys took exception
for some reason, and told him and Dez to bugger off home because they were
pissed....Talk about pots and kettles!......Next night's stop
Edinburgh.
We stopped here at Loch Glascarnoch on the way down to Edinburgh. Pete's problem
with the Baracudas was getting worse, so out came the mini compressor yet
again. We dumped about 70 PSI into the buggers this time, but still they never got
any firmer than a queer hairdressers
wrist.
First thing he did when we'd returned home was to take them off and fit some decent
rubber. D'ya know, the tight git actually tried to sell them when we got back?
The George Hotel
EdinburghT
The George Hotel Edinburgh. Some may think a it just a tad posh for 4 hairy arsed bikers, and it is indeed a bit on the expensive side. Worth every penny though just for the look utter of disgust on the smarmy Concierges face as a small gang of ageing dogeared bikers landed in his ever so posh hotel lobby. I've often heard it said that most of England's tramps hail from Edinburgh and from the way we looked & smelled when we arrived at the George, it must have appeared that England was now returning the favour. The poor bloke had to greet 4 road crap encrusted bikers, complete with panniers carrying 150 miles worth of accumulated road muck into his posh foyer....And, he had to call us all "Sir". The way he managed to keep his dignity completely intact by looking down his nose at us with such well practiced distain was pure professional artistry, obviously honed to perfection over many years of working as a glorified doorman. In the process of greeting us he tried his hardest to make us feel like something one of the toilet cleaners had got stuck to their rubber glove! He was very good at his job.
When
we arrived in our room, as usual I made a bee line for the shower where I
proceeded to turn the fluffy white towel into a damp black one, while Pete
explored the place looking in cupboards to see if anyone had left anything
of value behind, making the tea and so on as he does. When I'd finished it
was his turn in the shower. After a short while a voice came from the
bathroom........... "Bloody water's hard around here mate! Did
you manage to get a lather with this feckin' soap?"
"Yeah Pete, but I took mine out of the cellophane wrapper first!".... Told you, he's a
liablity sometimes
The George Hotel dining room
Following
a good night out
involving Beer (again!) Dez and Wes went back to their room which was next to ours and for some reason known only to them, thought it would be
great fun to lean out of their bedroom window and try to video Pete and me in
our room. God only knows what they thought we'd be doing that was so interesting
that they needed to film it, but they do odd things when they're pissed those two. Bear in mind that we're on the top floor of the hotel
(we think they'd put us
in the attic to keep us as far away from the posh American guests as possible) with a long sheer drop to the ground.
Fortunately, before they could come to any harm
they were distracted by the antics of a couple in the alley behind the hotel.
A young Henry was desperately trying to get his hand to the"promised
land" of his young wenches upper thigh but she was having none of it. Of course the whole episode is now captured on
video for posterity, complete with a drunken commentary by Wesley &
Dez!
..................Outstanding hotel and a brilliant end to a superb weeks biking.