We were told that plans had been made for us today that started at 1 pm so we enjoyed a leisurely morning in our hired home. I was determined to go for a run (finally) and awoke to gray skies that were dripping lightly. Not to be deterred, I put on my gear and headed out. According to my Garmin, I got 101 feet before the heavens opened and I bounded back inside to take refuge. It took about another hour before the deluge let up enough for me to try again and off I went down the Glasgow road toward Stirling, skirting the Sunday morning roadworks, and generally enjoying my time out. I had just turned around to head back when the little drizzle became more and more persistant so that by the time I had completed all 3 miles, it was a steady downpour and I was thoroughly soaked.
An hour later, the sun was out…. {Sigh} and we were up and about ready to celebrate my brother-in-law’s birthday (and what would have been my father-in-law’s birthday, rest his soul). We started with a lovely bar lunch at McQ’s (the restaurant part of the Tartan Arms – a local pub in Bannockburn) where Jim works And even during his birthday lunch he was taking orders (Gammon steak for me, steak pie for Frank and Gillian, and the Sunday roast for Duncan if you are curious). There we were joined by various factions of family: Jim’s wife Therese is one of 11 children so there’s usually a Kilgannon or two lurking about.
After lunch, we piled in taxis (yes, the drinking had begun) and headed to the 1314 pub in Bannockburn which overlooks the battlefield for that famous battle that all Scotsmen sing about after a few drinks. Therese’s family owns the pub so there are always family of some sort about. We were there to see a local singer, Holly Brooks, who has a lovely voice but the sound system was way too loud for the size of the pub. The kids were bored so we sent them up the road to our flat to watch movies and the afternoon commenced.
Anyone who bemoans the death of the pub culture in Britain has not been to a local pub on Sunday afternoon in a small Scottish town recently. It still seems to be the place where people gather to chat and connect (ok, and drink) We were there for several hours listening to the music and just chatting away about loads of things and having a laugh. The pub shuts at 8 on a Sunday though so then it’s in another load of taxis to head back up the road to Jim and Therese’s house for more serious celebrating.
There was a small buffet of snacks produced – love those sausage rolls and wish I could have them – but we opted for something out of the local take away: the Four in One does Italian (pizza), American (burgers), Indian (curries) and Turkish (kebabs) all for carry out. It doesn’t necessarily do any of them well but it sufficed. And then there was the singing. Gillian did a reprieve of her unplugged song to much applause and Matthew and Leah each played something. Then the clock struck midnight, the taxi came and the story ends.
Three things we noticed today:
- The weather at the moment does not dictate the weather in 10 minutes or two hours. Awaking to sunshine does not mean it will necessarily be a nice day all day – take advantage of the good weather when you have it.
- Scotsmen (and women) like to sing – even in the taxi home from the pub, there were interesting renditions of various crooner tunes. “Give us a wee song” is all the prompting folks seem to need.
- A working class pub is not like a bar in the US: ordering a glass of red wine is not quite the done thing and will get you a small bottle of something Chilean and hopefully drinkable. You really stick out among the pints of Guiness and cider and the whiskey & lemonade or vodka and coke drinks.
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