The Auld Mockney to Ocktermocktey

(RIP) Jamie

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Needlees to say, there was a bit of damp in the air, and just before I set off, I remembered to replace the spring washers on me front disc.

Also had a barney with Victor Meldrew, so I thought: Bollox, I'm going.

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First stop was Lancaster Services, just to check nothing had worked loose. Couldn't figure out if this structure was propped up from the bottom, or held up from the top :nenau

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So anyway, onwards and upwards - after a strange encounter in Carlisle - I booked a YHA bed in New Lannark, and headed up tae glasgae on the M74, where naturally enough it rained, but I decided not to stop to take a picture of the Jag stuffed into the armco.

Brief pitsop, luckily, a gentleman always carries and umbrella.

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Yoof Hostels don't have bars and normal stuff like that, so after doing some break dancing with some scouse hikers, I headed to the hotel next door for snack and a pint.

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That night, I shared a room with with a 25stone cabdriver from Utrecht. "I haf an apology choo make my frien, I shnoore quide a bit you know, yes?"

I just smiled "Wait till you get a load of me"

Away on up, I had to stop for the obligatory Loch Shots.

Loch Lomond

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The Auld Gnarly Tree of Loch Lomond

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Stopping off at the green welly, I encountered another hard core RTW type, this bloke makes Tiff look like Ewan McGregor.

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The only time I saw him sober all weekend

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Next stop, through Glen Coe to Fort Bill, and a swifty at the The Lochy, after picking Loo's bike up.

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Ben Nevis on the right

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Over a light tea, and a heated debate re:copper kettles, Gordon turned up and decided we should sample the delights of Fort William on a Thursday night. He took us into town, dropped us at the first pub and told us to get on with it while he nipped home to slip into something more comfortable.

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We seemed to get along just fine, until The Station karaoke night hove into view

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Gordon very kindly slung us in a cab, then went home. Back the hostel we slept a

cozy

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snuggly

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sleepy weep

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I woke and went out for a walk at about 6am. Beautifully quiet and still.

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Feeling at one with the world, alive, and vibrant, I headed back to stiur my chums gently from their slumber, in order to carry on the odyssey.


It's not like in the films you know.

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There are some fine quotes from history, that at the time seem insignificant, yet can inject the most horrific of tragedies with comic irony, like:

"Come on Captain, there's no ice in this part of the Atlantic, give it the beans"

"What's the best deal you can give me on a 1200"

"Hang on Yoko, let me quickly sort out some of these mugs with autographs"

To these can now be added:

"Piece of piss, we'll be at Jonny's by lunchtime"

After a hearty breakfast at Morrison's, the plan was to ride up to Skye by lunchtime.

Issue #1

Remember to switch off the bike and take the keys with you when get breakfast, that way the battery don't drain.

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Issue #2

When modifying your jump leads by shortening them, remember to strip the insulation from the cables before crimpng them back to the clips.

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Eventually, we got under way, but the problem with Scottishland is you never get to far without either having to stop to admire the scenery, and in my case do a spot of MILF hunting.

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There was also one more surprise in store, courtesy of kev again.

Issue #3

When replacing snapped alternator belt at the side of the road, ensure it's tight enough, to avoid slipping again 5 miles down the road. Though, to be sure, I was partly to blame. :augie

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Onwards and Northwards to paradise.

I DO NOT believe that the journey from The Kyle to Stein was uneventful, but it was, aside from the glorious scenery, what struck me was that the nearer you got to it, the narrower the roads got. I turned onto the final, single track road, and pootled, enjoying the scenery, when notice a small white van up my chuff, so I pull over to the passing to let it by, while I enjoy the reverie. Turns out it was wee Tash, so I followed her in.........................

I expected to be ptiching my tent in force 805 gales, but all that greeted me were happy smiling faces, and Ming with the kettle on.

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As usual, the view of the pub was obstructed by pikeys.

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But just to the left.

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Kev, lost in the scenery.

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For an instant, I wondered why I'd hooned 500 miles in the pishing wet, but then I remembered.

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And so, we caught up, despite only being a month since we last met.

I took this, as I thought it would make a great cover for a U2 album, but now realise it would work better as a poster for SAGA holidays.

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Kev got a midge in his eye.

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But soon, as the sun set, my cropped troos were letting the midges up 'em, so it was quick retreat to the tent to change into something less Arctically challeneged.



As the sun sets over Waternish Cove, I was glad to find a dry pair of jeans.

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Now back to the pub, to wait for TashCabs.
 
How far away is Steptoes glass in the "U2" shot???
 
Onwards to the Community Centre. I used to go to Kayley Primary School, when I were a nipper, it was nothing like this though.

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Strange thing though, the locals here just got up and started dancing, they didn't have to wait to be a half pished before they got up, and who taught them the moves?

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And the band played on

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It was all very civilised fun, and then.

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and then

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and then

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and then

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and then

Frankenstein arrived.

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Also, there was a raffle, which kept the old 'uns happy for a while.

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After which, the announcement was made, "let's get pished" to which came the usual reply "Too late, mate!"

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All too soon, it was time to go to bed. Tashcabs were called, and we headed back, though not until Ming had performed the traditional "Raping of the Kev", an ancient ceremony to ward off the speed cameras.

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Ming, as usual, perfomred his obligation with gusto.

And we had another wee barny in the sherbet, does she use Tim O'Tei, or Sylvikrin?

We may never know.

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Saturday, feckin Saturday.

Well, the gale force 8's kept me local, so I had Championship winning nap in me tent, and mooched around the pub for a bit.

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Saturday NIGHT however, was a totally different kettle of ball games.

Chicks

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Dicks

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And Chicks with Dicks

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We blasted our way into the 21st Century

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And then

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We reverted to Scottish tradition, and lobbed money at a cheap bottle of whiskey.

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But some local nedladies arrived, and the party was in full schwing again.

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But then it was bed time, and the long old slog home. Still, Sunday's weather hed out for us, and it was only Gale force 5 winds:thumb2

Cheers Jonny and Tash and the people of Stein.
 
Oh, and I had a puncture on the way home, but no-one wants to hear about that, what with Woody's bloody leg and all that.

:(
 
Oh, and I had a puncture on the way home, but no-one wants to hear about that, what with Woody's bloody leg and all that.

:(


Bloody hell!




Woody broke his leg, tell us more?

:D
 
What an excellent report - really sums up the weekend:thumb


How the f*%k do you know - you weren't there shouted a voice from the back........ I know but if I was this is just like I would have remembered it;)


AndyT:cool:
 
What an excellent report - really sums up the weekend:thumb

AndyT:cool:



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