Scotland

I went to Scotland this weekend. It was lovely (so clearly that’s not going to make a column). It was nice to be back in a land where ginger is an accepted form of colouring and I don’t understand 80% of what’s being said (this doesn’t necessarily just apply to Scotland it also applies in most meetings and on occasion watching Neighbours).

However, when I was at Stanstead at silly o’clock Saturday morning I needed to go to the loo (I’ll stop torturing you with my glamourous lifestyle soon). When I walked in to the toilets I was confronted with the sign “we hope you are delighted with these facilities”. Now maybe this is a sign of my borgeouis, middle class roots but I have never in my life been delighted by a toilet. The harbour bridge, the gorgeous British coastline, my nieces and nephews but never a toilet. I was not alone. I wasn’t battling my way through crowds of people rolling on the floor with delight at the sight of a porcelain paradise.

I don’t know whether it was the earliness of the hour or maybe I misread it – which again has been known. I was outraged at posters advertising the film, “Welcome to Paedophilia” sadly it was “Welcome to Philadelphia” – but either way it was odd. Almost as odd as the “no studying” sign at Singapore airport. Singapore airport is weird in general. I once stumbled through there at 3am to find people doing a display of disco dancing.

Actually I lie.

I have been delighted by a toilet. But I blame British rail bus replacement services for that. A journey that takes 25 minutes by rail should not take an hour and a half by road. Especially when you have drunk 3 cups of tea and a pint of water. Whilst I was making a contingency plan that involved throwing away my trousers I spied a public toilet. I was truly delighted. Perhaps Stanstead could adopt this approach. They could force feed people 4 pints of water at check in – perhaps make them drink the liquids they’re not allowed to take on board. They could then lock the doors to all the loos except one, obviously the one that is the furthest away. They could even through in some more obstacles, no bog roll, a seat that’s hanging off (Glasgow airport is clearly ahead of it’s time in this respect).

However Scotland was a pleasure and a joy. I caught up with friends I haven’t seen for ages, was introduced to a new drink – a “blackbeard” which involved rum, coke and guiness, parted company with my new drink and was reminded of my favourite chat up line “You’ve got beautiful eyes. Can I touch them?”
I also learnt a valuable lesson. No matter how much fun you are having or how good an idea it seems you must never, ever dye your hair when under the influence. I look like Ronald MacDonald, which is unacceptable in every country of the UK.