Okay ~ the foodies in the congregation need to know, and I am on my own in a foreign restaurant.
To summarise: This beats MacDonalds for speed! The back bar is dire ~ full of knuckle dragging old fashioned, totally missing the point, died in the wool, anti-tourist fascists. The naked Scot on a bad day is a joy to behold; worse than an East London Skin-head in his aged prime. Strangely though, when challenged about his knuckle dragging Anglo phobia he reverts to his Rab C Nesbit adopted alter-ego character and admits to being just slightly 'pished'.
So that's okay then ~ another mindless knob to pass by on the other side of the road. The world is full of them; this one just decides to excel himself on my holiday.
The waitresses spray my table with a bottle marked 'wooden tables' to ensure it is clean and so that I will never discover the smell of my meal. As far as I can tell, the Aberdeen Angus steak is tasty but totally swamped with unnecessary side dishes. The Chianti is robust and gets you there. The Haggis was great but if you let him, the chef would have drowned it in sauce. Our Gordon would have a field-day here, but on the whole it's good fare served in a lumpen fashion. (Why do they insist on making heavy waitresses wear flat shoes on a sprung floor? It sounds like the Panzers are breaking through in the Battle of the Bulge!)
I only whinge like this because there are those in the congregation who like it. Personally, I would never go there out of choice...
Oh No! Never! Really madame!
To summarise: This beats MacDonalds for speed! The back bar is dire ~ full of knuckle dragging old fashioned, totally missing the point, died in the wool, anti-tourist fascists. The naked Scot on a bad day is a joy to behold; worse than an East London Skin-head in his aged prime. Strangely though, when challenged about his knuckle dragging Anglo phobia he reverts to his Rab C Nesbit adopted alter-ego character and admits to being just slightly 'pished'.
So that's okay then ~ another mindless knob to pass by on the other side of the road. The world is full of them; this one just decides to excel himself on my holiday.
The waitresses spray my table with a bottle marked 'wooden tables' to ensure it is clean and so that I will never discover the smell of my meal. As far as I can tell, the Aberdeen Angus steak is tasty but totally swamped with unnecessary side dishes. The Chianti is robust and gets you there. The Haggis was great but if you let him, the chef would have drowned it in sauce. Our Gordon would have a field-day here, but on the whole it's good fare served in a lumpen fashion. (Why do they insist on making heavy waitresses wear flat shoes on a sprung floor? It sounds like the Panzers are breaking through in the Battle of the Bulge!)
I only whinge like this because there are those in the congregation who like it. Personally, I would never go there out of choice...
Oh No! Never! Really madame!
it has hot water that works and a shaverlight that lights upAl, that is five star plus in scottish hotel terms - count your blessings. Shame it isn't raining though (schadenfreude; keine punkte).
ReplyDeleteHave a malt for me. I've had a couple on your behalf - just for atmosphere whilst reading the blogs you understand.
Sorry about the knob
ReplyDeleteHave you got the grizzles for some reason. If you don't like things where you finished up it's your fault, you could have picked a route which would have brought you into friendly highland places where you know hospitality is the go word!
ReplyDeleteI have invented a new Scottish Board Game, where you use darts.
ReplyDeleteThe object to hit is an Alan Sloman look-alike heaving his leg over the bedroom window to escape from the hotel. He can confirm it's a remarkable likeness.
The Scots with long arms are going to just love it.