Donald Where's Your Troosers?



2 days to catch up on.  While the south of England is enjoying an Indian summer we have been 'enjoying' a Scottish winter. We are now working our way down the west coast, last night we were in Ullapool and tonight it is Gairloch.

The weather yesterday was pretty epic.  It rained solidly all day and by the afternoon the headwinds were back to 40 mph. At one point it briefly became a cross wind and I had to stop when a gust threatend to throw me in the verge.  I then discovered it was impossible to start again because, in the split second needed to put a foot on a pedal and generate some thrust, the wind would just try and dump me back on the verge.  Neil, who was ahead (as always) and sheltered by a house just watched and giggled.  Git.

Ullapool is NC500 central with badges and T-shirts for sale everywhere.  We have identified 3 particular species of NC500 follower:

1). Camper vans.  There are trillions of them.  When not clogging up the roads they sit in every car park and laybay while their owners make a cup of tea and read the paper.  I'm not sure that camper vans have doors as nobody ever seems to get out.

2). Motorcyclists.  Their objective seems to be to tick off the ride as quickly as possible, apart from when they congregate in laybys in their funny leather trousers to have a smoke and look hard.

3). Twats.  Otherwise know as sports car drivers who think that driving with the roof down in a pissing gale is pretty darned cool.  

Today, against all the odds, we stayed more or less dry and the wind was manageable.  In Scotland this is about as good as September gets but by every other standard it was a mediocre day.  In this part of the world there are few places to stop and most of those have given up and closed (not sure if that is due to the weather or the virus) so lunch is a snack eaten while sheltering under a tree or behind a barn.  This is real 'living the dream'......but only if your dream is to have a crap time.

Tonight's hotel required that we pre-order dinner a week ago (no idea) and Neil selected Haggis.  I have explained to him that in this weather they are unlikely to have caught any.

The song?  I expect you were expecting an hilarious anecdote about a lost pair of trousers?  The sad truth is that there is no connection to the song but you can't be in Scotland and not use Donald Where's Your Troosers. 

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