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
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