Although I feel a little like Tino, the Newfie,
who was outside yesterday waiting patiently for his German owners to scoff their langoustines, scallops and monkfish, I will miss the hustle and bustle this weekend coming. We are off down the road, well rail track, to the Cambridge Folk Festival. Travelling light as we will be looked after by Andy and Jill and will be followed down by Pat and Fedor, so a little reunion of sorts coming up and looking forward to it all. Listening to a Cerys Matthews prog on Radio4 about compiling an Irish songbook and one of the songs came with a wee story. Fields of Athenry, the song, and the story involved the Irish team being beaten 4.0 by the Italians. The last fifteen minutes of the game the crowd belted out the Fields of Athenry and sounded fantastic on the clip they played. Roy Keane however was not impressed and after the game his summing up stated that the fans should have come to see the team play to win and not to sing songs. Next game the Irish played the camera pans the crowd and picks out a woman holding up a placard “CAN WE START SINGING NOW, ROY?” Laughed out loud at the imagery of it all. Good to work alone.
The work weekend really started at around 3pm last Wednesday when I went in early for the first shift and this one and Thursday’s went well with no real incidents to speak of, not the busiest but steady with all the tables being used. Friday was a fine day at sea, seagulls getting hungry,
as was Saturday although Saturday felt long as there was a breeze from the North and enough to double the effort in getting 300 creels on board, emptied, rebated and shot back again. Made it to the Inn again for the back of three, having had a shower to wash the mud off and the smell of the bait. And then into a fairly long shift which lasted until we got the last of the revellers up to the Games Marquee and RythmnReel, the local favourites for this gig. I made it up to the Field for half four but all activities were all over by this time and only managed a wee chat with the Band before heading down to the Inn for the expected waves of customers. We did not get too badly hit, I think the Dream Machine took the edge of it but tired enough to only think of going up to the Dance for about five minutes before realism and age took over. The light towards the end of the evening was a little special and instead of the dance a walk along Shore Street did it for me.
Sunday was a repeat and it was a busy one with bikers and everyone else in for a meal. Sounds like the Walled Garden had a busy week as well. The summer weather does not seem to have put anyone off although the weather for the Games could not have been better and good to see all the effort put in had its rewards with a good attendance and lots of activities. Sort of passed me by this year as working took greater priority. Sunday morning and I was so glad not to have gone to the Dance, especially as it went on so late, just too old to keep both ends of the candle alight. Had a wee rain check on some of the next generation who appeared in the morning and there seemed a few over from the Dornie/Kintail way. They are already getting younger than our boys. Feeling ever so slightly older. Due to the forecast I had decided in advance that fishing was not an option so was at the Inn for twelve and went through a ten-hour shift which allowed the Boss away for a boat trip up Torridon with Torridon Tours and although did not speak much when she came back, many customers again, she enjoyed it immensely. A table wait but not too long. Between five and six things got a little hairy and with only me out front and keeping control was all one could do. Once Boss and Linda were back you could speak to people again. At one stage there were, Swiss, Belgian, Dutch, German, American, Swedish, Australian, Norwegian, French and Spanish all sitting either inside or outside the Inn. Went on a wee bit late as the last two customers came after the kitchen closed but got their medium steaks and venison burgers at half nine. Europeans tend to eat later and do not realise the kitchen has already been open for nine hours.
Went for a wee wander down the road just now and back after a meal of squats, garlic and new potatoes,
as the pooches were a bit restless. Now preparing for the trip south to Cambridge mainly making sure everything is charged and as said the packing light. Half hour between train connections so may bag another rucksack at Blacks. Dougal is doing fine otter impressions now.
For his exercise all you do now is throw stones in the water and his swims back and fore trying to catch them. Simple minds I suppose. Notice the Pier has now got a bit of a Brighton look with all the beach huts in a row.
Might paint mine for a bit of colour. While I was taking Tino’s photo his mate Emma was wanting attention so snapped her as well. cannot remember what she was supposed to be but there was a rare Tibetan terrier in earlier. Noted that Emma’s owner would have been in with a shout in the dog owner lookalike competition on Saturday.
The Hydro is coming together and very quickly with three pieces all being tied up at the same time, needs to be, with time running out. No more bodies found and with reports of unhappy bikers, a couple of local cars in the morgue we will see you again next week with my head hopefully filled with fine music and memories.