After admiring Stan Fraser’s incredible marine fanboyism, we decided it was time to get some lunch. We’d pulled up in a nearby retail park so that we could walk to Stan’s house/museum. We sat in the car and wondered where to go and eat.
The previous day on the journey up, we’d stopped briefly to use the toilets at a service station/café about half an hour or so outside of Inverness. In there I’d picked up a collection of leaflets, one which was “Places to eat out in Inverness”. With no better idea on where to go, I decided to whip the leaflet out and have a look.
It had been a particularly wet day and despite the fact that I’d kept the leaflet in the pocket of my waterproof coat, water had conspired to get in there and the leaflet was now sodden with rain water. Thankfully, it was still readable, and I perused the options. We eventually settled on a place called the Riverside Restaurant.
The restaurant was situated, aptly enough, by the side of the river on Banks Street. We decided to take the Michael once more and park in the Tesco again due it being both free and also a mere 5 minute walk from the restaurant.
When we entered the restaurant the only occupants were two other gentlemen who were finishing their meals. We were shown to a table by a polite waitress and were presented with the lunch menu. The restaurant interior was lovely and there was a view out towards the river which would have likely been more enchanting on a nicer day.
I ordered curried carrot soup to start and an omelette for the main. Both were delicious and well worth the mere £11 or so we had to pay when the bill was split between us. I’d certainly recommend it if you happen to be in Inverness and are looking for a good lunch option. http://www.riversiderestaurant.info/
After eating Lunch, it was time for me to do something wilfully self-indulgent before we got the shopping in. For as long as I can remember, I have been a big football fan. I just love it. I love the spectacle, the skill of the players, the passion of the crowd and the tactical nous of the managers and coaches. I am a devoted Everton supporter but I also follow the Scottish League with quite a fair bit of interest.
We didn’t get Sky Sports in my house until late 2003, so I never really got a chance to watch Scottish Football unless one of the teams were playing in Europe and the game was on ITV or BBC. My only real exposure to the Scottish game was either by the odd bulletin in the sports section of the news or by watching the classified football results on Grand Stand. This combined to give the league an exotic and mystical quality that the English League didn’t have. It seemed far away and exciting.
I recall vividly watching a news report covering Celtic’s incredible Title Victory on the last day of the 97/98 Season. The victory would have been emotional in any circumstance but this had some added spice to it all, as Celtic’s victory had thwarted the attempt of their biggest rivals Rangers from winning ten consecutive League Titles in a row. Winning “Ten in a row” has become an obsession for both sides of the Glasgow divide, so the win brought with it real significance.
However, while Rangers and Celtic fought for the top prize in the Scottish League, there was another team in the lower leagues who caught my eye. They were Inverness Caledonian Thistle. First off, what a name for a football club! Once you hear that name, you seldom forget it. It’s patriotic yet also quite wistful and humorous. I can’t hear that name without thinking of rolling hills and waist high thistles. If ever a football teams name was anything close to poetic, it would be Caley Thistle.
Ever since seeing that name on the classified results in my younger days, I decided that if I ever happened to be in The Highlands and it was feasible to do so, I would visit Caley Thistles ground. Considering pretty much all our business was concluded, and the stadium was all of 15 minutes away, I decided that it was going to be a case of “now or never”. Adam, Luc and Pete are not into football whatsoever, but I managed to convince them that this would be a quick thing and that it wasn’t too out of the way. They relented, and we were off.
Caley Thistle’s ground has a reputation for being one of the coldest in Britain. This is due to two key factors. Firstly, it’s in The Highlands which isn’t renowned for the most clement of weather. Secondly, the stadium is literally right next to the sea. Seriously, it would take about 2 minutes to walk from the reception to the water. This results in the elements battering the stadium in all their glory.
Caley Thistle have climbed through the ranks of Scottish Football and now play in the top division. It’s a remarkable story. Despite that, the club had more of the feel of a small local team as opposed to a team in the big leagues. Despite the lofty heights the club has reached, it still rarely sells out its stadium. Even the recent “Highland Derby” between Thistle and local rivals Ross County (Situated in Dingwall about 20 miles away) was only attended by roughly three thousand people.
Pete and Luc decided that they’d stay in the car while I got out and had a look at the stadium. I dragged Adam along as my cameraman and had my picture taken outside the entrance. I later tweeted the picture to the clubs official Twitter page and they were kind enough to re-tweet it. The club shop was a small additional part to the front of the stadium. This was miles away from the big club shops you’d find at Old Trafford and The Emirates. To my dismay, the shop was closed but there was a sign advising that I could ask one of the staff at reception to open it up for me.
I walked into the homely reception to find no one at the desk and three people in a room to the left. A young woman entered and asked if she could help. I asked if she could open the shop and she cheerfully said she would. She seemed relatively unfazed that two random Englishmen had showed up to buy some Thistle merchandise. Maybe it’s a regular occurrence?
I perused the boxes in the shop to see what was on offer. My souvenir of choice when visiting somewhere is usually a tea mug. I still have a Hertha Berlin mug from when I visited the Olympic Stadium in Berlin. I’m a bit of a stadium-phile in all honesty. Is that even a word? Oh well, it sums up my feelings towards them anyway. I would have liked to have done a lap of the ground but we’d already taken longer than I’d intended.
I asked the woman if they had any mugs and she replied apologetically that they did not. I decided to buy an Inverness scarf instead. It was a mixture of blue and red and had the club crest on it. It reminded me a lot of the colours of Crystal Palace actually. Satisfied with my purchase, I bade the woman adjure and headed back to the car with Adam. I thanked the lads and explained, albeit briefer that what you’ve just read, the reasons for visiting.
Before setting off that morning, we had agreed that we would each cook something during the week. This would avoid long drives in the dark in pursuit of an evening meal. We were to pick up the relevant ingredients for our meals, as well as alcohol and other niceties. Pete had a special dish planned for that evening involving Scottish produce.
We found another Tesco, making it at least three for Inverness (They’re taking over!!!) and ventured inside to pick up the shopping. Luc has quite a strict diet and only eats Organic foods, so he dashed to the fruit and vegetable aisle to pick up what he required. I tried not to overdo it with things and left all the extra stuff to the other lads. I knew we’d have more than enough of what we needed.
Myself and Adam headed to beer and spirits area of the shop to find some ale and take a look at the whiskeys. We eventually settled on a strange looking ale called “Tartan Special”, which came complete with a jolly looking bagpipe player on the front of the can. We also picked up a 10 year Dura whiskey as well. I left the whiskey buying to the other lads as it’s not really my area of expertise.
With the car loaded up, we set off again in direction of the cottage. The GPS found yet another route for us to take and we ended up massively lost. I got the impression that this journey would be much simpler if it wasn’t for all the diversions due to road closures. We eventually chanced our way onto the same route we came in on and made our way back to the cottage. Pete made it very clear that he’d had his fill of driving into the City and wanted to stay around the cottage for the rest of the holiday. This seemed reasonable enough as there wasn’t anything else we desperately had to do in the City.
Pete was up for going in the boat but the weather was still quite soft and the light was starting to disappear. As much as I wanted to row the boat, and I really did, I didn’t fancy rowing in a Loch in the dark in the middle of nowhere. It just screamed “watery grave” to me. Pete was determined but we managed to talk him down to a row the next day. It would turn out to be a good decision.
Pete and Luc prepared the dinner, chicken breast stuffed with haggis and wrapped in ham. While they cooked the food, myself and Adam found a chess set and had a game. After a long tactical battle, I somehow managed to step forth victorious, despite being woeful at the game in general.
We broke out another game, I can’t remember which one and then watched Withnail and I. it was an enjoyable way to end the day.
We headed to bed, knowing that the next day we were going on a boat. That and more, in chapter 7
Tuesday, 21 October 2014
Monday, 20 October 2014
A Trip Away - Chapter 5
While at dinner the previous night, we’d discussed what we were to do on the second day of our holiday. We had to get some shopping done, that much was obvious, and we could use that as a good excuse to take a better look at Inverness.
Pete was adamant that he wanted to have a row in the boat. This was something we were all happy to do, weather permitting, and we pencilled that in for our after breakfast activity. We’d get up, have some breakfast, row the boat, nip into town and then head home for dinner and board games. Lovely.
We set a wake up time of no later than 9AM, returned home to play Scrabble and then retired to bed. I thought that I’d try and get up a tad early and set my alarm to 7:30, with the goal being to have a wash so that there would be less danger of bathroom congestion. My alarm when off at 7:30 and I promptly switched it off and went back to sleep. Ah, the best laid plans eh?
I naturally awoke at about 8:50AM, which is either an incredible testament to my body clock or a case of good old fashioned luck. The travelling the previous day had clearly tuckered me out more than I had realised. Adam appeared to be even more knackered than me, as he lay in his bed not stirring.
Voices down in the kitchen led me to believe that Pete and Luc had awoken. Either that or one of them was up and talking to himself, which I didn’t think was likely. I ventured downward to find Luc and Pete both awake and in different states of alertness. Pete was up and rearing to go where as Luc looked like he would like another hour in bed.
When we had arrived the previous day, the cleaner had dropped off some local bacon, sausage and eggs. Luc decided to cook these up while we waited for Adam to stir, which he promptly did soon after. We looked outside to see that it was overcast and rainy. Though this didn’t conspire to make the Loch look any less beautiful than it already did, it didn’t really look like boat riding weather.
A decision was made to eat breakfast, go to Inverness first to give the weather a chance to improve and then head out boating in the afternoon. Luc cooked up the bacon and sausages and it was genuinely some of the nicest food I’d ever had. There was a natural saltiness to the bacon and the sausages were both succulent and meaty. We set off to town well fed and raring to go.
Pete kindly said that he would handle the driving and we set off on the best route the GPS could provide us. This seemed to take us on an outside route that bypassed the route we had taken the day before when reaching the cottage. The view on this journey was considerably more scenic as it took us along the side of a hill that I sadly was unable to get the name off and by the side of a Loch. It wasn’t Loch Ness but it was certainly a large one regardless. Had there been time, I probably would have found out just for information’s sake, but we were in the middle of a near 50 minute journey and there wasn’t really anywhere to pull over. The scenery was incredible though, as if there’d be any doubt to it being otherwise.
We passed a giant Tesco, upon which we planned to visit on the way back, on the outskirts of town and continued onward for 5 minutes or so until we spotted the river and realised we’d hit the City Centre. One complaint I will have about Inverness is that it’s difficult to find free or cheap parking, but then again that’s a complaint you could level at most cities. In the end we left the car in a small Tesco Express car park that was about a 2-3 minute walk from the River Ness Bridge. Naughty I know, but we’d had a look around for street parking and had no joy, so we got creative.
There were two main bridges that traversed the River. The larger one, known as Ness Bridge, was what we used to cross over to the main shopping district, but there was another bridge that was about 2-3 minutes further down.
Pete did what he normally does whenever he visits somewhere, and headed straight for the Charity Shops. Pete is a dedicated Charity Shopper and has a keen eye for spotting a bargain. We had briefly lived together in a flat just besides Parrs Wood in Stockport. It was a mere 10 minute walk or so away was Didsbury, a rather well to do part of Manchester, where Pete would often spend his Sunday mornings travailing the Charity Shops and usually picking up some genuine good deals.
Pete made his way to the Charity Shops while myself and Adam inspected a bizarre architectural design outside the shops and besides Debenhams. It was a model of a boat but once that was sinking. It seemed to be almost completely out of place but also seemed to completely belong as well.
Pete’s desire to visit the shops became quickly apparent. Well aware that the eventual voyage on the rowing boat may in fact be a messy one, Pete had decided to buy a cheap pair of pants for a pound or so that he wouldn’t mind getting messy while on the boat. Myself, Luc and Adam decided that this would also be a good idea and promptly bought some of our own. I bought a plain t-shirt and a pair of brown trousers for a grand sum on £1.50. Mistakenly though, I did not try the trousers on, a mistake that would later come back to haunt me.
We then ventured into a nearby souvenir shop and had a look at the assorted Scottish Themed Merch that the shop was trying to sell. I had a look in case they had any merchandise for Inverness Caledonian Thistle, the areas local Football Team, but I was left disappointed. There was, however, a fair bit of Rangers and Celtic merchandise available for purchase. The fact that both these teams played all the way down in Glasgow had not seemed to come into consideration when the shop was opened. It would be like going to Newcastle and finding the shop only had Manchester United and Manchester City stuff for sale.
Among the bizarre football related tat for sale were hats, scarves, mugs and, I promise this is not a joke, rubber ducks. Yes, rubber…ducks. Who on Earth is travelling all the way to Inverness to buy a Glasgow Rangers rubber duck? If you have in fact done this, please feel free to send me a stamp addressed envelope detailing all of the drugs you took that day when you travelled into town to make the purchase.
Luc, Pete and Adam, happy with their Charity Shop togs, decided to head to the Tourist Information Centre. I briefly hung back and sent a text to 118 118, asking for the address of the Inverness Caley club shop and its opening times. I was told the shop was next to the stadium and was usually opened till 5PM. I was also provided with a number to call the club. I promptly did while the lads looked in the Tourist Centre, and got confirmation that there would indeed be someone there until at least 5PM. I made a quick note, and continued onward.
As we continued to explore, we passed a Shoe Zone and decided to go in. Knowing that we likely were going to be doing some walking in the wilderness, I felt it prudent to pick up a pair of walking shoes. My old pair had long since bit the dust. As it turned out, Adam hadn’t brought any either, so we promptly bought two pairs of decent walking boots for a mere £25. Satisfied with that, I also nipped to another souvenir shop to buy my mum a postcard.
Postcards are now quite an antiquated way of conversing while on holiday, but my mum often still sent ones to me while she was vacationing. I felt she’d appreciate me doing the same, so I found the silliest card I could and sent it to her first class, so she’d definitely get it before I got home. It was a card with the famous blurry back and white picture of the Loch Ness Monster on it. Believe it or not that used to scare me a bit when I was a nipper.
With most of our business conducted in the City, Pete had a surprise for us. While researching things to do prior to our journey, Pete has discovered something quite brilliant. Stan Fraser, a marine fanatic living on the outskirts of town, had built a scale model of the Titanic, yes THAT Titanic, in his back garden. http://www.heraldscotland.com/news/home-news/titanic-museum-in-back-garden-a-top-attraction.21474100
Not only had Stan built this but he’d also built an assortment of other marine themed attractions as well as essentially turning his house into a mini Titanic museum. On top of it all, it was free to get in. He was up-keeping this incredible place and not even asking a penny for admission! We simply walked through his front gate, walked into his house and he let us loose in the museum. He’d amended his hallway into a makeshift reception area.
It truly was incredible to think about all the time he must have spent on this place. Not only that, this place was open every day of the year except for Christmas Day and New Years Day. This man was running a living, breathing tourist attraction in his back garden and he was doing it all year round! I’m almost certain that even if someone did pop round on Christmas Day, he’d probably let him in to look at the ships while he tucked into his Christmas Dinner.
There was an area provided where you could make tea and coffee that had a collection box. I emptied my pockets to show my gratitude. I would recommend anyone that may be reading this to visit Stan’s back garden. Just keep an eye on your kids, especially if it’s west as the boats can get quite slippy
That’s enough for one chapter. I’ll go into more detail about our day trip to the City in my next one
Pete was adamant that he wanted to have a row in the boat. This was something we were all happy to do, weather permitting, and we pencilled that in for our after breakfast activity. We’d get up, have some breakfast, row the boat, nip into town and then head home for dinner and board games. Lovely.
We set a wake up time of no later than 9AM, returned home to play Scrabble and then retired to bed. I thought that I’d try and get up a tad early and set my alarm to 7:30, with the goal being to have a wash so that there would be less danger of bathroom congestion. My alarm when off at 7:30 and I promptly switched it off and went back to sleep. Ah, the best laid plans eh?
I naturally awoke at about 8:50AM, which is either an incredible testament to my body clock or a case of good old fashioned luck. The travelling the previous day had clearly tuckered me out more than I had realised. Adam appeared to be even more knackered than me, as he lay in his bed not stirring.
Voices down in the kitchen led me to believe that Pete and Luc had awoken. Either that or one of them was up and talking to himself, which I didn’t think was likely. I ventured downward to find Luc and Pete both awake and in different states of alertness. Pete was up and rearing to go where as Luc looked like he would like another hour in bed.
When we had arrived the previous day, the cleaner had dropped off some local bacon, sausage and eggs. Luc decided to cook these up while we waited for Adam to stir, which he promptly did soon after. We looked outside to see that it was overcast and rainy. Though this didn’t conspire to make the Loch look any less beautiful than it already did, it didn’t really look like boat riding weather.
A decision was made to eat breakfast, go to Inverness first to give the weather a chance to improve and then head out boating in the afternoon. Luc cooked up the bacon and sausages and it was genuinely some of the nicest food I’d ever had. There was a natural saltiness to the bacon and the sausages were both succulent and meaty. We set off to town well fed and raring to go.
Pete kindly said that he would handle the driving and we set off on the best route the GPS could provide us. This seemed to take us on an outside route that bypassed the route we had taken the day before when reaching the cottage. The view on this journey was considerably more scenic as it took us along the side of a hill that I sadly was unable to get the name off and by the side of a Loch. It wasn’t Loch Ness but it was certainly a large one regardless. Had there been time, I probably would have found out just for information’s sake, but we were in the middle of a near 50 minute journey and there wasn’t really anywhere to pull over. The scenery was incredible though, as if there’d be any doubt to it being otherwise.
We passed a giant Tesco, upon which we planned to visit on the way back, on the outskirts of town and continued onward for 5 minutes or so until we spotted the river and realised we’d hit the City Centre. One complaint I will have about Inverness is that it’s difficult to find free or cheap parking, but then again that’s a complaint you could level at most cities. In the end we left the car in a small Tesco Express car park that was about a 2-3 minute walk from the River Ness Bridge. Naughty I know, but we’d had a look around for street parking and had no joy, so we got creative.
There were two main bridges that traversed the River. The larger one, known as Ness Bridge, was what we used to cross over to the main shopping district, but there was another bridge that was about 2-3 minutes further down.
Pete did what he normally does whenever he visits somewhere, and headed straight for the Charity Shops. Pete is a dedicated Charity Shopper and has a keen eye for spotting a bargain. We had briefly lived together in a flat just besides Parrs Wood in Stockport. It was a mere 10 minute walk or so away was Didsbury, a rather well to do part of Manchester, where Pete would often spend his Sunday mornings travailing the Charity Shops and usually picking up some genuine good deals.
Pete made his way to the Charity Shops while myself and Adam inspected a bizarre architectural design outside the shops and besides Debenhams. It was a model of a boat but once that was sinking. It seemed to be almost completely out of place but also seemed to completely belong as well.
Pete’s desire to visit the shops became quickly apparent. Well aware that the eventual voyage on the rowing boat may in fact be a messy one, Pete had decided to buy a cheap pair of pants for a pound or so that he wouldn’t mind getting messy while on the boat. Myself, Luc and Adam decided that this would also be a good idea and promptly bought some of our own. I bought a plain t-shirt and a pair of brown trousers for a grand sum on £1.50. Mistakenly though, I did not try the trousers on, a mistake that would later come back to haunt me.
We then ventured into a nearby souvenir shop and had a look at the assorted Scottish Themed Merch that the shop was trying to sell. I had a look in case they had any merchandise for Inverness Caledonian Thistle, the areas local Football Team, but I was left disappointed. There was, however, a fair bit of Rangers and Celtic merchandise available for purchase. The fact that both these teams played all the way down in Glasgow had not seemed to come into consideration when the shop was opened. It would be like going to Newcastle and finding the shop only had Manchester United and Manchester City stuff for sale.
Among the bizarre football related tat for sale were hats, scarves, mugs and, I promise this is not a joke, rubber ducks. Yes, rubber…ducks. Who on Earth is travelling all the way to Inverness to buy a Glasgow Rangers rubber duck? If you have in fact done this, please feel free to send me a stamp addressed envelope detailing all of the drugs you took that day when you travelled into town to make the purchase.
Luc, Pete and Adam, happy with their Charity Shop togs, decided to head to the Tourist Information Centre. I briefly hung back and sent a text to 118 118, asking for the address of the Inverness Caley club shop and its opening times. I was told the shop was next to the stadium and was usually opened till 5PM. I was also provided with a number to call the club. I promptly did while the lads looked in the Tourist Centre, and got confirmation that there would indeed be someone there until at least 5PM. I made a quick note, and continued onward.
As we continued to explore, we passed a Shoe Zone and decided to go in. Knowing that we likely were going to be doing some walking in the wilderness, I felt it prudent to pick up a pair of walking shoes. My old pair had long since bit the dust. As it turned out, Adam hadn’t brought any either, so we promptly bought two pairs of decent walking boots for a mere £25. Satisfied with that, I also nipped to another souvenir shop to buy my mum a postcard.
Postcards are now quite an antiquated way of conversing while on holiday, but my mum often still sent ones to me while she was vacationing. I felt she’d appreciate me doing the same, so I found the silliest card I could and sent it to her first class, so she’d definitely get it before I got home. It was a card with the famous blurry back and white picture of the Loch Ness Monster on it. Believe it or not that used to scare me a bit when I was a nipper.
With most of our business conducted in the City, Pete had a surprise for us. While researching things to do prior to our journey, Pete has discovered something quite brilliant. Stan Fraser, a marine fanatic living on the outskirts of town, had built a scale model of the Titanic, yes THAT Titanic, in his back garden. http://www.heraldscotland.com/news/home-news/titanic-museum-in-back-garden-a-top-attraction.21474100
Not only had Stan built this but he’d also built an assortment of other marine themed attractions as well as essentially turning his house into a mini Titanic museum. On top of it all, it was free to get in. He was up-keeping this incredible place and not even asking a penny for admission! We simply walked through his front gate, walked into his house and he let us loose in the museum. He’d amended his hallway into a makeshift reception area.
It truly was incredible to think about all the time he must have spent on this place. Not only that, this place was open every day of the year except for Christmas Day and New Years Day. This man was running a living, breathing tourist attraction in his back garden and he was doing it all year round! I’m almost certain that even if someone did pop round on Christmas Day, he’d probably let him in to look at the ships while he tucked into his Christmas Dinner.
There was an area provided where you could make tea and coffee that had a collection box. I emptied my pockets to show my gratitude. I would recommend anyone that may be reading this to visit Stan’s back garden. Just keep an eye on your kids, especially if it’s west as the boats can get quite slippy
That’s enough for one chapter. I’ll go into more detail about our day trip to the City in my next one
Thursday, 16 October 2014
A Trip Away - Chapter 4
As mentioned in a previous chapter, Pete had decided to fly to Inverness and meet us there. This was mainly a financial decision as it would have been cheaper for him to just fly in directly as opposed to coming up from London to Stockport via train. Pete’s flight was due to arrive at Inverness airport at 2PM. We arrived at Inverness airport at 3PM (oops) and waited for Pete in the car park.
After a couple of minutes waiting in the cark park, with a nary a Peter in sight, Luc decided to call him. The good news was that Pete’s plane had landed and he was in Inverness. The bad news was that he was currently on a bus to city centre, as apparently that was where we had agreed to meet him (Double oops)
Pete said he was waiting for us at a Morrison’s in the city centre, so off we duly went to meet him. Thankfully, the store was quite easy to find and it even had a petrol station, meaning we could not only pick up some much needed food supplies but we could also refuel the car at the same time.
It was good to see Pete and I gave him a manly hug. His flight had apparently been a bit bumpy, but he’d made it safely and that was all that mattered. His journey had taken a luxurious 2 hours in comparison to our 7.
My first impressions of Inverness were that it was a nice city with a mixture of both modern and classical architecture. I would get a chance to have a better look at it the next day. We knew that we had to buy some shopping as the cottage was over 45 minutes out of town and in the middle of nowhere. Pete was adamant that we do a full shop but there just wasn’t room in the car for us to take that much shopping back on top of everything else already in there. We decided to get what we could now and then come back the next day to get the rest and also see more of the City.
I was relatively happy with this outcome as I fancied seeing Inverness in more detail anyway and coming back for some shopping was as good an excuse as any. We picked up some essentials while in the shop. Bread, Milk, Juice, Irn Bru etc.
Irn Bru is of course Scotland’s favourite soft drink and in fact it even outsells Coke. It’s an orangey fizzy drink that is excellent when one is trying to kick a hangover. We decided we had to get some, one because we were in Scotland and two because it’s delicious. We ventured into the fizzy drinks aisle to find that the Irn Bru was not only in plentiful supply but also took up almost a quarter of the entire aisle! The Scots love their Bru and no mistake. The last time I had seen that much orange in one place was when I went to see the 2014 Scottish Cup Final and looked over at the Dundee United supporters with all their tangerine shirts and flags.
Adam found some Scotch Meat Pies and put them in the basket. Pete was also looking at picking up some Haggis but I was reluctant to buy so much Scottish stuff in one go. I don’t know why but I’ve always been a bit embarrassed to come across as a tourist when travelling. There’s no reason to feel this way of course, I mean I AM a tourist and part of the reason for going to a new place is to do the touristy things that have made that place famous in the first place. I didn’t mind coming off a bit touristy but I didn’t want to go the whole hog. I just wasn’t ready yet.
Once we’d stocked up and refuelled the car, it was team to find the cottage. We input the postcode and the Tom Tom™ and it found the destination quickly and without complaint. Pete offered to drive but after stretching my legs and seeing that we only had 45 minutes or so to go, I decided I would finish what I’d started and drive us the rest of the way.
After 10 minutes or so our journey to the cottage met a road block, literally. A road that we needed to follow was closed, meaning that we were going to need to find a new route. I turned to a side road to the right and passed a little newsagent that will return to our narrative later on. It was at this point that the road quality started to deteriorate.
The previous roads had been narrow but had also been actual roads. While passing through the mountains on the way in to Inverness, I had noticed what could quite possibly be the most reasoned and honest road sign I had ever seen. It had stated “Frustration costs lives, please allow overtaking!”. It might as well have said “Listen you daft baw bag, this lid wants to overtake you so just let him for God’s sake before the idiot motors past you and collides with an oncoming salt truck, ay?”
The roads we were on now were even narrower than that one in the mountains, although they did at least have designated areas where you could pull in to let oncoming traffic pass. We headed left down a side road and it became patently obvious very quickly that that road was made for monstrous 4x4’s and not Toyota Yaris’s.
This is not to say that Japanese cars aren’t sturdy. I remember driving to Northampton in my old Nissan Micra and taking a wrong turn that left us driving up a hill that even a Jeep would struggle with. I’ll never forget a group of ramblers passing by and viewing is with bemused surprise as we desperately tried to stack rocks in the massive holes in the ground enough for the Micra to pass. Turning around was not an option at this point. Amazingly, I managed to get the car out of there and as we passed the ramblers on the way down they greeted our arrival back to civilisation with rapturous applause.
There was no need for such desperate measures in this instance. We pottered along as best we could until we came across a giant puddle in the road that was about 3 feet deep. Thankfully there was enough room to turn around and we made our way back to the main road. After travelling a bit further down the road, we eventually found “Diversion” signs that led us back onto our desired route. The Tom Tom was then able to pick up the rest of the journey for us, at least until the very end.
As we carried on driving down the windy bends, the road started to open up and we started seeing cottages and houses in the surrounding fields. This suggested we were starting to get to where we needed to be. We also passed the Whitebridge Hotel, which the map that Pete had printed off told us was only 5 minutes away from the cottage. On we toddled along the road and suddenly the GPS asked us to take a right turn. We promptly did, expecting to find the cottage waiting for us but instead we found a closed gate and a nearby caravan housing a tattooed Londoner.
After a quick conversation with our new southern chum, the lads came to the conclusion that we’d taken a wrong turn. Thus began a torturous half an hour or so where we tried to work out where it was we were actually supposed to go. We’d been given the vague direction of “turning right at a reddish brown sign” which is about as helpful as someone telling you that Mali is “Somewhat south of Europe”
Thankfully, after what seemed like an age, we spotted a sign that vaguely matched the description and found the cottage just as night was starting to set in. The cleaner and her husband were just leaving as we arrived. We were promptly given the keys and entered the cottage.
The cottage had two floors. The first floor had two bedrooms and a bathroom. One of the bedrooms would be Pete’s while the other would be both mine and Adam’s. Downstairs to the ground floor led the kitchen/living room and the third bedroom where Luc would reside. There was a set of doors that led the way out to a spacious garden, where at the bottom Loch Knockie awaited.
The few of the Loch was absolutely staggering and well worth the price of the cottage alone. Pete quickly made his way down to the dock at the bottom of the garden to inspect the rowing boat like he was an excited child on Christmas morning. The boat itself was half full of water from the previous nights rain. We tipped the water out as best we could and then turned the boat over on land should the rain decide to fall again.
With no other option for dinner, we drove down to The Whitebridge and had our tea there. I had a delicious Venison Pie and a pint of Ale called “Nessie”, that was flavoursome with a mild kick.
We returned to the cottage and began the plan for day 2, which I will cover in the next chapter.
After a couple of minutes waiting in the cark park, with a nary a Peter in sight, Luc decided to call him. The good news was that Pete’s plane had landed and he was in Inverness. The bad news was that he was currently on a bus to city centre, as apparently that was where we had agreed to meet him (Double oops)
Pete said he was waiting for us at a Morrison’s in the city centre, so off we duly went to meet him. Thankfully, the store was quite easy to find and it even had a petrol station, meaning we could not only pick up some much needed food supplies but we could also refuel the car at the same time.
It was good to see Pete and I gave him a manly hug. His flight had apparently been a bit bumpy, but he’d made it safely and that was all that mattered. His journey had taken a luxurious 2 hours in comparison to our 7.
My first impressions of Inverness were that it was a nice city with a mixture of both modern and classical architecture. I would get a chance to have a better look at it the next day. We knew that we had to buy some shopping as the cottage was over 45 minutes out of town and in the middle of nowhere. Pete was adamant that we do a full shop but there just wasn’t room in the car for us to take that much shopping back on top of everything else already in there. We decided to get what we could now and then come back the next day to get the rest and also see more of the City.
I was relatively happy with this outcome as I fancied seeing Inverness in more detail anyway and coming back for some shopping was as good an excuse as any. We picked up some essentials while in the shop. Bread, Milk, Juice, Irn Bru etc.
Irn Bru is of course Scotland’s favourite soft drink and in fact it even outsells Coke. It’s an orangey fizzy drink that is excellent when one is trying to kick a hangover. We decided we had to get some, one because we were in Scotland and two because it’s delicious. We ventured into the fizzy drinks aisle to find that the Irn Bru was not only in plentiful supply but also took up almost a quarter of the entire aisle! The Scots love their Bru and no mistake. The last time I had seen that much orange in one place was when I went to see the 2014 Scottish Cup Final and looked over at the Dundee United supporters with all their tangerine shirts and flags.
Adam found some Scotch Meat Pies and put them in the basket. Pete was also looking at picking up some Haggis but I was reluctant to buy so much Scottish stuff in one go. I don’t know why but I’ve always been a bit embarrassed to come across as a tourist when travelling. There’s no reason to feel this way of course, I mean I AM a tourist and part of the reason for going to a new place is to do the touristy things that have made that place famous in the first place. I didn’t mind coming off a bit touristy but I didn’t want to go the whole hog. I just wasn’t ready yet.
Once we’d stocked up and refuelled the car, it was team to find the cottage. We input the postcode and the Tom Tom™ and it found the destination quickly and without complaint. Pete offered to drive but after stretching my legs and seeing that we only had 45 minutes or so to go, I decided I would finish what I’d started and drive us the rest of the way.
After 10 minutes or so our journey to the cottage met a road block, literally. A road that we needed to follow was closed, meaning that we were going to need to find a new route. I turned to a side road to the right and passed a little newsagent that will return to our narrative later on. It was at this point that the road quality started to deteriorate.
The previous roads had been narrow but had also been actual roads. While passing through the mountains on the way in to Inverness, I had noticed what could quite possibly be the most reasoned and honest road sign I had ever seen. It had stated “Frustration costs lives, please allow overtaking!”. It might as well have said “Listen you daft baw bag, this lid wants to overtake you so just let him for God’s sake before the idiot motors past you and collides with an oncoming salt truck, ay?”
The roads we were on now were even narrower than that one in the mountains, although they did at least have designated areas where you could pull in to let oncoming traffic pass. We headed left down a side road and it became patently obvious very quickly that that road was made for monstrous 4x4’s and not Toyota Yaris’s.
This is not to say that Japanese cars aren’t sturdy. I remember driving to Northampton in my old Nissan Micra and taking a wrong turn that left us driving up a hill that even a Jeep would struggle with. I’ll never forget a group of ramblers passing by and viewing is with bemused surprise as we desperately tried to stack rocks in the massive holes in the ground enough for the Micra to pass. Turning around was not an option at this point. Amazingly, I managed to get the car out of there and as we passed the ramblers on the way down they greeted our arrival back to civilisation with rapturous applause.
There was no need for such desperate measures in this instance. We pottered along as best we could until we came across a giant puddle in the road that was about 3 feet deep. Thankfully there was enough room to turn around and we made our way back to the main road. After travelling a bit further down the road, we eventually found “Diversion” signs that led us back onto our desired route. The Tom Tom was then able to pick up the rest of the journey for us, at least until the very end.
As we carried on driving down the windy bends, the road started to open up and we started seeing cottages and houses in the surrounding fields. This suggested we were starting to get to where we needed to be. We also passed the Whitebridge Hotel, which the map that Pete had printed off told us was only 5 minutes away from the cottage. On we toddled along the road and suddenly the GPS asked us to take a right turn. We promptly did, expecting to find the cottage waiting for us but instead we found a closed gate and a nearby caravan housing a tattooed Londoner.
After a quick conversation with our new southern chum, the lads came to the conclusion that we’d taken a wrong turn. Thus began a torturous half an hour or so where we tried to work out where it was we were actually supposed to go. We’d been given the vague direction of “turning right at a reddish brown sign” which is about as helpful as someone telling you that Mali is “Somewhat south of Europe”
Thankfully, after what seemed like an age, we spotted a sign that vaguely matched the description and found the cottage just as night was starting to set in. The cleaner and her husband were just leaving as we arrived. We were promptly given the keys and entered the cottage.
The cottage had two floors. The first floor had two bedrooms and a bathroom. One of the bedrooms would be Pete’s while the other would be both mine and Adam’s. Downstairs to the ground floor led the kitchen/living room and the third bedroom where Luc would reside. There was a set of doors that led the way out to a spacious garden, where at the bottom Loch Knockie awaited.
The few of the Loch was absolutely staggering and well worth the price of the cottage alone. Pete quickly made his way down to the dock at the bottom of the garden to inspect the rowing boat like he was an excited child on Christmas morning. The boat itself was half full of water from the previous nights rain. We tipped the water out as best we could and then turned the boat over on land should the rain decide to fall again.
With no other option for dinner, we drove down to The Whitebridge and had our tea there. I had a delicious Venison Pie and a pint of Ale called “Nessie”, that was flavoursome with a mild kick.
We returned to the cottage and began the plan for day 2, which I will cover in the next chapter.
Wednesday, 15 October 2014
Tuesday, 14 October 2014
A Trip Away - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
An interesting fact about Inverness, it’s quite far away.
One of the reasons why Inverness had won out over Ireland as our eventual
holiday destination was that it seemed easier to get to. To get to Ireland
would have required either flying and renting a car or driving and catching a
ferry.
My family had often gone to Ireland during my youth for
holidays and there were two main ferry journeys you could get. Liverpool to
Dublin or Swansea to Cork. Myself, Luc and Adam are all based in Stockport, so
we were either looking at a relatively short drive to Liverpool, followed by a
ferry and a long drive down to Waterville or a long drive to Swansea followed
by a ferry journey and then a difficult drive along windy Irish roads.
I could still remember how torturous and long the ferry
journey could be from Swansea to Cork, especially if you went during the day.
Inverness, despite being away up North, was at least just a car journey, and a
direct one at that. It was decided that I would do the driving, so I ventured
to TheAA.co.uk to see how long the journey would be. I didn’t like what I
found.
It takes roughly 7 hours to get from Stockport to Inverness
via car. Yes, 7 hours. All of a sudden I started to worry about what I had got
myself into.
Pete now lives down south with his girlfriend, so he decided
that he would fly to Inverness, a mere 2 hours, and then we could pick him up.
He said that he’d have his parents drop his suitcase round the day before.
Pete’s flight was due to get in to Inverness around 2PM, so
I decided that the three of us would have a set off time of 7AM. Luc and Adam
were informed, I did my packing and awaited for Pete’s Dad to bring the case
round, which he duly did. It was at this point when panic set in. We were going
away from the Monday 6th October and would be returning on the 11th.
However, Pete was going to be staying at his parents for a few days after
returning from Scotland, and he’d packed accordingly.
We were going to be travelling in my Toyota Yaris, a car not
really known for being overly spacious, and I’m not exaggerating when I say
that Pete’s case could probably fill the boot on it’s own. It was time to get
creative. Quick texts to Luc and Adam to ask them to pack as light as possible.
Luc replied saying he’d already intended to. Adam replied that he hadn’t even
started packing yet because he thought we weren’t leaving until the 7th!
Ever see the scene from “Phoenix Nights” where Brian Potter
finds out that his house band are stuck in Stranraer? Those who have won’t
struggle to picture my reaction to everything at this point.
Thankfully, I was able to compose myself enough to get some
sleep and we managed to cram all of our cases into the car the following
morning. Pete had also insisted that we bring some board games with us as the
cottage didn’t have a TV. Somehow we contrived to fit everything into the car
and off we set to Bonnie Scotland!
In Chapter 3, I’ll cover the journey itself as well as
closing out the first day of the holiday.
Dominik Diamonds Are Forever: FIFA 15
I’ve recently had a birthday so I decided to celebrate being one year closer to death by acquiring a Playstation 4. This is my quarter life crisis I think. While most people buy a car or start dating someone relatively younger than them, I go and blow 350 Smackers on a gaming console. £350! That’s 70 Bison Dollars!
I did get a free copy of FIFA 15 with the console at least, and I’ve been playing it quite heavily over the weekend. There’s not much I can say to differentiate this from previous FIFA reviews really. It’s a FIFA game. If you like FIFA, you’ll like this. If you don’t like FIFA, this game isn’t going to convert you.
The usual problems are still there in that you can’t change captains during the match, sometimes goalkeepers are overly erratic and the AI can be cheaper than Tesco Value Ginger Ale.
Many of the world’s most prominent club and international teams are present with their most recent kits, formations and players. The gameplay is essentially the same with a few tweaks here or there that EA Sports felt were necessary to include so they could justify a new game in the series.
There are some definite improvements on previous titles though, in the PS4 version at least. The presentation is absolutely excellent and mimics the SKY and BT Sport TV presentation to a tee. Graphically the players look like chunky cartoon versions of their real selves, but they move fluidly and tumble over like drunken crash test dummies when they collide into one another. The physics engine in general feels like it’s had a genuine overhaul for the better.
The gameplay hasn’t changed that much, and nor should it really. Change for merely changes sake really doesn’t make any sense when you have such a successful and popular franchise. FIFA is now pretty much in “tweak” mode and I don’t expect it to make any drastic changes unless a competitor comes along with a new engine and interesting angle on the Soccer Video Game market.
I remember getting some stick from my review of FIFA 14 as I didn’t really talk about the online mode. I’m afraid I’m going to do the same on this review but I can assure it’s not without want of trying.
Believe it or not, I have ventured online on FIFA titles in the past. Back on previous FIFA games you could just hop online and play in friendlies and also Pro matches pretty quickly. I tried to play “Pro Clubs”, which is where you take control of just one player in the squad and then play big online games with other players. However, you have to join a team first before you can play. I created my player, searched online for some Everton supporters with their own teams and then sent out some transfer requests. No dice
Then I noticed that I could create my own club, so I promptly founded the “Toffee Apples”. However, I’m still currently the only player in the squad, so it won’t let me play any matches. So yeah, I would have liked to have included a bit about Pro Clubs in the review but sadly it was not to be.
I did receive a code for Ultimate Team, and I know some people out there love that, but I just couldn’t be bothered with it. I’m sure you can find a detailed review of it on IGN somewhere. Really, Pro matches and playing against friends is all I really use the online mode on FIFA for and I currently only have one friend on PSN and he hasn’t been online at the same time as me so we’ve not had a chance to play.
I’m tempted to mark the game down for this actually. Why can’t it be like previous FIFA’s and just let you online for a quick Pro’s game? Why all the faffing with being in a club and such? Surely EA took into account that some of us are psychotic loners who might find it hard to find friends? I mean, isn’t your typical EA Exec a cold, emotionless, sociopath (Satire) who would find it hard to make friends, even in an online setting? Wouldn’t they be able to comprehend that their fellow sociopaths (More satire) might struggle to actually find friends to play with?
Bad FIFA, no perfect score for you!
That being said, this has everything it needs to keep FIFA aficionados happy. It’s smooth to play, well presented and I have sunk literally hours into career mode already and I’ve not even finished my first season yet, so you know it has a good lifespan.
Buy it, love it, caress it and hope for more of the same in 12 months
9 out of 10
Thanks for reading
Peace Out
I did get a free copy of FIFA 15 with the console at least, and I’ve been playing it quite heavily over the weekend. There’s not much I can say to differentiate this from previous FIFA reviews really. It’s a FIFA game. If you like FIFA, you’ll like this. If you don’t like FIFA, this game isn’t going to convert you.
The usual problems are still there in that you can’t change captains during the match, sometimes goalkeepers are overly erratic and the AI can be cheaper than Tesco Value Ginger Ale.
Many of the world’s most prominent club and international teams are present with their most recent kits, formations and players. The gameplay is essentially the same with a few tweaks here or there that EA Sports felt were necessary to include so they could justify a new game in the series.
There are some definite improvements on previous titles though, in the PS4 version at least. The presentation is absolutely excellent and mimics the SKY and BT Sport TV presentation to a tee. Graphically the players look like chunky cartoon versions of their real selves, but they move fluidly and tumble over like drunken crash test dummies when they collide into one another. The physics engine in general feels like it’s had a genuine overhaul for the better.
The gameplay hasn’t changed that much, and nor should it really. Change for merely changes sake really doesn’t make any sense when you have such a successful and popular franchise. FIFA is now pretty much in “tweak” mode and I don’t expect it to make any drastic changes unless a competitor comes along with a new engine and interesting angle on the Soccer Video Game market.
I remember getting some stick from my review of FIFA 14 as I didn’t really talk about the online mode. I’m afraid I’m going to do the same on this review but I can assure it’s not without want of trying.
Believe it or not, I have ventured online on FIFA titles in the past. Back on previous FIFA games you could just hop online and play in friendlies and also Pro matches pretty quickly. I tried to play “Pro Clubs”, which is where you take control of just one player in the squad and then play big online games with other players. However, you have to join a team first before you can play. I created my player, searched online for some Everton supporters with their own teams and then sent out some transfer requests. No dice
Then I noticed that I could create my own club, so I promptly founded the “Toffee Apples”. However, I’m still currently the only player in the squad, so it won’t let me play any matches. So yeah, I would have liked to have included a bit about Pro Clubs in the review but sadly it was not to be.
I did receive a code for Ultimate Team, and I know some people out there love that, but I just couldn’t be bothered with it. I’m sure you can find a detailed review of it on IGN somewhere. Really, Pro matches and playing against friends is all I really use the online mode on FIFA for and I currently only have one friend on PSN and he hasn’t been online at the same time as me so we’ve not had a chance to play.
I’m tempted to mark the game down for this actually. Why can’t it be like previous FIFA’s and just let you online for a quick Pro’s game? Why all the faffing with being in a club and such? Surely EA took into account that some of us are psychotic loners who might find it hard to find friends? I mean, isn’t your typical EA Exec a cold, emotionless, sociopath (Satire) who would find it hard to make friends, even in an online setting? Wouldn’t they be able to comprehend that their fellow sociopaths (More satire) might struggle to actually find friends to play with?
Bad FIFA, no perfect score for you!
That being said, this has everything it needs to keep FIFA aficionados happy. It’s smooth to play, well presented and I have sunk literally hours into career mode already and I’ve not even finished my first season yet, so you know it has a good lifespan.
Buy it, love it, caress it and hope for more of the same in 12 months
9 out of 10
Thanks for reading
Peace Out
Monday, 13 October 2014
A Trip Away - Chapter 1
It had been nearly seven years since I last went on a group
holiday with my friends Pete, Luc and Adam. That involved a trip to Blackpool
that led to half of us getting ill, one of us getting so high that they had a
panic attack and one of us getting a parking ticket for being illegally parked
outside a tranny bar.
Ah, memories.
Considering how long it had been since we had a jaunt away
from home, we looked to do something a bit different. We had had city trips to
Amsterdamn and London as well as seaside trips such as the one to Blackpool. For
our most recent holiday, we looked to two films that we all enjoyed for
inspiration in regards to the destination. Those two films were “The Wicker Man”
and “Withnail and I”
Thus we decided to rent a cottage in the middle of nowhere
in a place where the locals might be tempted to kill us in a ritual sacrifice.
Inverness fit the bill quite nicely.
In all seriousness, the inspiration was much more from
Withnail. The idea of getting away from it all was something that resonated
with all of us on a certain level. A chance to get away from work and other
personal commitments and just enjoy some peace and quiet. I originally looked
at getting a cottage in Waterville, which is actually in County Kerry Ireland. When
the logistics of travel seemed to be overly complicated, Pete suggested
Inverness. It didn’t take long for him to convince the rest of us that this was
a good idea.
I’d long been fascinated with The Scottish Highlands since a
very early age. The pure remoteness of it all and the beauty of the scenery had
always had quite a profound effect on my senses. I couldn’t really think of
anywhere further away that didn’t involve me getting on a boat or plane. The
Highlands are a place so remote and wild that even the Roman’s hadn’t bothered
to conquer them. They probably had taken one look at the roving hills and waist
high thistles and thought “Sod it, let’s just build a wall and hope for the
best”
Pete had found a cottage about a 45 minute drive from
Inverness. Not only was it literally miles from any town or city, but it was
also adjacent to its own private Lake called Loch Knockie. If that wasn’t
enough, the cottage owner had also promised us a rowing boat that we could use
to explore the Loch should we wish to. Pete of course wished to. To top it all
off, we were also 30 minutes away, at most, from Loch Ness.
The minute I saw pictures of the cottage I knew it was perfect,
as did the other two lads, so Pete promptly booked it.
So, we had a cottage, now we just had to get to it. That and
more in Chapter 2
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