From the High Country to the Craic in the Glass
Hello one, hello all,
I see in the crystal that everyone is well; the pint glass never lies [especially when it's masquerading as a row of empty soldiers].
Hasn't the world changed recently?
Is it just me or is there irony in the fact that Bushy keeps using God as his witness?
Let me get this one in early, Go you Bloody Knights, kicked the arse of those slimy eels all over the place and perhaps it's time that they dedicated the BHP site to the men of steel, on my return I'd like to be having a beer on top of the number 4 blast furnace with salubrious views of the city and hop on the roller coaster at the adjoining Knight world amusement park where each and every player from the past is dedicated on the walk of fame with their own blackies anvil. End exclamation.
Got myself out of the madness of festival city Edinburgh and up to the highlands of Scotland, a sightly neck of the woods with plenty a mount and a Loch.
Stopped in on some travelling acquaintances and by chance the last Highland games fling of the season was on at the time. Oh to see those big blokes throwing stuff around a paddock, the weather a mix of bright sunshine overcoming rain clouds, a wee dram of whiskey to warm the intestines and the eerie din of the pipes as they kick in as the afternoons soundtrack.
The biggest day of the towns year and long night of celebration leading into the next day when I took on the local Ben at days dawning just see the look on the towns face.
No sign of the Monster at Loch Ness but everyone knows it's there anyway.
Scotland: where the water meets the mountains and the people you meet in the pubs [Perhaps I can sell this on to Tourism Scotland].
When up Ben Nevis they say is the highest point in the UK and the views never lie up high as you look out over the place and realise that now might be a good time to move on to the Irish craic.
Hopped on a bus, crossed on a boat to Belfast and into to Old Dublin town where the realities of work have hit me again as I do a bit of work on the Festival and contemplate the next move.
Yes, the Guinness is the best it's true, although on top of the Guinness brewery where gods’ water comes straight from the source, the taste of the pint was topped by the view of the town as the sun slowly sets in my mind.
Got on the devils hotline with one of these infernal handsets, so I s'pose that means I'll be around this way for a while, who knows where.
Feel free to drop me one of those insidious text things and be assured of a lumbering but appropriate response.
Take it easy as always,
Love The Wookiee, [preparing his winter coat for the onset of the cold, but for today anyway the town is bathed in sunlight.]
