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Saturday 13 October 2007--It's market day in Crieff this morning, and I take a stroll through the stalls. On
my way back up the High Street, I spy a pair of mannequins in a housewares shop, begging to have their photo taken. I think
they are plotting to overthrow the shop clerk.
Drive into Edinburgh and find my B&B on Ferry Road. The faithful Punto is returned to Europcar at Waverly Station, and I go shopping on the Royal Mile. I buy several CDs at Coda, and then stroll down to the Cadenhead shop. I have a lengthy blether with the fellow there as I try to decide what bottle to buy. It finally occurs to me that I can purchase four 20cl bottles for the price I was willing to pay for a 70cl one, and thus have four new whiskies to sample. Balmenach, Glenburgie, Glencadam, and Dailuaine will soon be in my repertoire. I am soon in the Bow Bar, of course, and shortly am joined by Kenny and Nick. After a dram or two, we descend into the Grassmarket in search of a pub meal. We are suddenly aware that it's Saturday night in Edinburgh. I have found in the course of my travels that it is necessary to be very careful about where one lands on a Saturday evening, when things tend to get just a wee bit too boisterous for the more sane and sedate of us. So it is this evening in the Grassmarket. We find what we need and escape with our dignity more-or-less intact, back to the sanctuary of the Bow. It's quite busy there as well, of course, but the crowd is a far more mature one; there are many gents there with significant amounts of gray hair, or, like Mr Tattie Heid, insignificant amounts of gray hair. There's a harpie over in the corner who shrieks, banshee-like, occasionally, and there's one out-of-place lad who cheers rather too passionately for France, or more to the point, against England, in the rugby, but on the whole it is a civil place, even when it's jammed. We sample numerous drams and engage in a wide-ranging discussion. A stray comment about Kenny's pink shirt prompts a rumination on the roles of genetics and culture in the formation of gender identity, just to cite one point. (The pink shirt is fine, but the heels are a bit much.) There is much whisky talk, too, of course. And Nick feels compelled to sample the G&M Cask Old Pulteney first-fill sherry that left Kenny and me tasting burnt popcorn for days last year. The look on his face as he tries to come to terms with it says more than any words could. One is always loathe to part from such sterling company, but there are limits to one's endurance, and the Bow closes at a civil hour, as well. No trip to the Standing Order this year. Next |
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Beautiful Downtown Crieff
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Market Day
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Market Day
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Intrigue In Crieff
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What Really Tempts Tattie...
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...Is The Bow Bar
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Kenny & Nick
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G&M Cask Old Pulteney First-Fill Sherry
Next
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Mr Tattie Heid's Mileage
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