The excesses of last nights session have left their own legacy on the stomach today, compounded by a smoked sausage supper at 3 am and then not content with that, the 'Big Man' has to immediately go into the take-away pizza shop over the way from the chip shop.
So by the time things were underway this afternoon the ability to consume was much reduced. Isabelle insisted on Blackcurrant squash, I could only manage three pints, then wandered off amongst the afternoon shoppers to buy a toothbrush as I kept being reminded that my breath was like a sewer.
I have a token half of Guinness at Stuart's cousin's and no red wine with the lamb chops but refusing hospitality in the Western Isles isn't the done thing.
We head straight for the beer tent at the main event, everyone ends up with two drinks to avoid queuing again.
The Proclaimers start proclaiming, the heat of about five thousand people begins to warm up the festival tent, I get through one pint and then have to go and buy a cup of tea, there are almost as many people outside as in, most of them waiting in line for the beer tent - Euuueeehh NO MORE BEER!
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4 comments:
NO MORE BEER? What the feck arya talkin' about? It's a folk gig, isn't it? Get a f'n backbone, Son!
Every stomach has it's limit, surely?
Ya wee Jesse!
We're not getting any younger, you know. Nice cup of tea and a' that.
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