Carry on Up the Access

08 Aug

As “The Tank” hurtled around the pristine cinder track I feared my immortal soul was in severe danger of being well and truly barbequed.  I was going to be late and God knows where I was going to park.  I was tempted, but I knew I was unlikely to find a suitable space in here…this was a “long stay” zone and (thankfully) I only needed a spot for a couple of hours.

A few minutes earlier I had stopped in a small access to allow J and M-I-L to disembark, J rushing back down the street to see if I could park in the turnoff we’d just passed.  It was obvious that this access wasn’t commonly used…or so I thought!

“Oh S***!”

A car pulled in behind me demanding to be let in and as a result was successfully blocking Mar Place, the main access road up to Stirling Castle – in the middle of the tourist season.  The ancient narrow streets on the approach to the castle were suddenly clogged with disgruntled…and most definitely stationary, visiting traffic.  I was left with no option but to carry on up the access which, much to my irritation, immediately deteriorated from tarmac road to small gravel track.  I checked the time and panic set in.  Down went the foot on the accelerator pedal.

I bumped over another slightly flattened slab in a deluge of cut flowers.  I appeared to be in a one way system…with no idea whether I was going the correct way.  Still there shouldn’t be the normal slow moving weekday traffic to contend with.  With no sign of either Hammond or May I reckoned I was well in front.  Gravel spinning from under the tyres I made a token gesture at avoiding the well manicured lawns.  Bloody stupid design for a road network.  Why had they not thought of designing for rallying 4x4s.

The track tightened as “The Tank” and I careered round a hairpin.  I still had 30 minutes left until the Bride arrived.  Mind you, if the posh car was trying to park up here as well…then I could have a couple of hours in hand.  Surely I could get out of here, find a parking space and rush back up to the church in time?

With a bit of luck things would become that wee bit easier…once I managed to find my way out of the cemetery.

Much calmer...much later...


Posted by on August 8, 2010 in General Drivel


12 responses to “Carry on Up the Access

  1. Simon

    August 9, 2010 at 4:25 pm

    Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. I need a lie down. I think that I’m developing asthma. Oh dear.

    I assume that the rush is the reason that you forget the pink diamente collar?

    J looks good. Like the hat.

    Oh dear.

  2. Tessa Park

    August 9, 2010 at 8:40 pm

    What’s the tartan? You both look very dapper 🙂

  3. fatdogwalks

    August 9, 2010 at 10:23 pm

    MrP…p-l-e-a-s-e…pink diamente with tartan?! 😆

    I will pass on your compliments to J…she was very pround of her hat 😀 . She did consider one like yours, but felt it was sooooo last year.

    Tessa – It’s the Anderson tartan (that’s my mum’s side of the family).

    I first wore that tartan for a wedding when I was about 3 years old (C1957). There was a child’s kilt in the family that was passed around all my mum’s cousins for the weans to wear. I was talking to one of my 3rd cousins (I think that’s the relationship) at my mum’s funeral a few years ago and apparently that kilt is still in existence! 😯

    I still have the kilt pin and the tie…just a wee bit too small for me now!

  4. Simon

    August 10, 2010 at 10:53 am

    I also had to wear a kilt at my aunt’s wedding when aged 5. Apparently it took 6 months of porridge for breakfast and tales of heroic highlanders to persuade me to wear a skirt for the day. Judging by the photos I was not a happy bunny.

  5. fatdogwalks

    August 10, 2010 at 11:20 am

    Photos please MrP…photos please… 😀

  6. Linda

    August 10, 2010 at 11:54 am

    Hehehehe I agree Ken, photos of Simon please! Although I bet there may be one of you at three years old wearing the family kilt 😀

    J’s dress and hat are lovely and you look very resplendent in your kilt.

  7. Alex

    August 10, 2010 at 7:08 pm

    Very smart looking indeed.Pity you are standing beside her though 🙂
    My grandfather made my kilt when I was about 5 years of age.I keep meaning to send it out to my relations in Canada to be handed on but every time I check the postage I change my mind for some strange reason….

  8. Tessa Park

    August 10, 2010 at 7:48 pm

    There are Andersons on Stuart’s mum’s side of the family. There is a cracking picture of him in a kilt aged 3. Not an Anderson one though. Very cute 😆

  9. fatdogwalks

    August 11, 2010 at 10:57 am

    Sorry to disappoint you Linda but I don’t think there is one 😦 that I know of. I do notice however that MrP has been very quiet since we brought up the subject of photos 😀

    She said the same Alex 😦 .

    There are lots of “Sons of Andrew” everywhere Tessa. My lot came from north of Montrose – at least as far back as the late 1600’s. Do you know where Stuart’s Andersons came from?

  10. Irene

    August 15, 2010 at 10:31 pm

    What a lovely photo of you and your wife. Looking good in the kilt, Ken!

  11. fatdogwalks

    August 15, 2010 at 10:51 pm

    Thanks Irene 😀 .

    Still fits after 5 years 😆 – mind you the straps are on the last set of holes…I think a bit of weight loss might be in order.


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