Monday, October 15, 2007

We like to put ourselves on the line .......

We got up at 5 on Saturday morning, that is me and the boys. I dropped them at the Airport and went home to bed.
I got back up at 1030, and coloured my roots, and by 1.30 was on the train to Glasgow to meet up with Kirst.
I was there early and was subjected to many many Scots fans being marched thru the station onward to their train taking them to Hampden. As my boys were away to watch their country play, so too were the majority of men in Glasgow. What a nightmare. I was so embarassed to be Scottish. The only saving grace was that they were in Glasgow, surrounded by like-minded Glasweigians so I think they all thought it was okay. What is it about men in Kilts, who, after they have had a pint think it is okay to get their bits out. I seen so many willy's and arses on Saturday I can't count them. Additionally they seem to think, because they have easy access with Kilts on, that they can pee anywhere, at any time, oblivous to anyone walking past. I don't want to see men pee'ing in public thank you. Especially not facing me, at the door of a train as I try to escape without being pee'd on.

We opted for Cafe Uno. Which in itself looking back was probably a mistake. Italian food middle of the day, is only going to result in us being unable to eat for the rest of the day. Good or Bad, which ever way you want to look at it. I had Calamares for starters which was lovely, until I got to the bottom of the bowl, where the little calamares were, unlike the loops of chopped calamares, we had little ones with little tentacles (I nearly said testicals), waving at me, so I was unable to continue. Kirst had Stuffed Giant Mushrooms. First off - Not Giant. 2" across does not consitute GIANT. For a mushroom to be declared "GIANT", we have to have something at least 1' across. Secondly, Goats Cheese, Kirst discovered is not the same as "Cheese". and she promptly scooped it out after discovering that she didn't like it, and threw it on my plate. The parma ham and garlic was lovely tho, as was the slightly larger than a button mushroom.

Next course, I opted for salmon with Tagliatele. Big mistake. I was going to have the Salmon, but the ITALIAN woman (Kirst said she was Romanian), told me the pasta was better. Wrong. Less Salmon, MORE pasta. Couldn't eat it. You know what Pasta is like. Your stomach expands at twice the rate the pasta does in the pan. The aspargus tips and salmon in it were Gorg tho. Kirst had pancakes, stuffed with something, covered in cheese sauce. It looked like Lasagne, and to be honest, I think it probably was. Rolled up lasagne sheets. Then Pud.
I opted for my Favourite. Tiramisu, which Kirst says, is boring. But it wasn't it was lovely and cakey - and coffeey and alcoholly. Kirst had a sundae. See Picture. It was Massive. And SHE ATE IT ALL.


After, we were too full to do anything else, especially not drink.


So we went for a wander around the Gallery of Modern Art.

I'm sorry, maybe we aren't intellectual enough to appreciate it, but it was truely pap. That would be Pap, as in Rubbish, and not pap, as in Papal. (not Paypal), by the Way. First exhibit was Sectarianism, which is rife in Glasgow and most of Scotland.

However, all it did was emphasise the problem. It wasn't doing anything to make it better. Second floor, was light bulbs dangling from ceiling at odd angle with bent bed and bin (also bent). Couldn't work out what it was telling us. Third exhibit, and by this time we were totally confused, included a bike with what looked like a lap top strapped to it, and two pieces of metal, tied to the ceiling by what looked like a couple of pairs of tights. This apparently was representative of the divisions in Scotland over the issue of Hunting????? Eh? Exactly?


We left somewhat unfulfilled, and to make matters worse, the chap who sits outside, was without his traffice cone! Oh - Is Duke of Wellington. Should have realised that eh? To make up for my disappointment, I've found a picture.

We decided to go to the Pictures because we were so stuffed, walking around was hurting. It was that or going to one of the cheapy hotels which allow you to rent rooms b y the hour... (I wonder why), and have a sleep. But Kirst was in one of her lesbean moments, and I didn't feel like living up to her expectations then.



I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry was the choice. It wasn't bad, it wasn't good. There were some good giggles, but mostly it was great because we got to slob out in a couple of chairs. And, of course the view from the top of the cinema (12 floors up) across the city was lovely.

After that, we made our way back to the station, diving in between the dancing Scots. It was quite scarey. The station was a nightmare, kilted, face painted Scots everywhere singing at the tops of their voices - not any song recognisable as "scottish", more Nursery Rhymes. The train was just as bad.
Waaaaaaaa.
Home was a quiet relief. And of course, coming home to a Happy Message from Eilidh in Tenerife made my day!

3 comments:

  1. Anonymous5:50 pm

    I think you are on a mission to make me look shite in every photo ever published.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous5:51 pm

    They do say the camera never lies though!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Adam, I've told you to stop commenting on my site. Or Was it you Duke?

    ReplyDelete