Peterhead on Friday, booked into the Waterside Hotel. Hmm, other guests included around 120 very drunk (either that or very stupid) septuagenarians on a weekend break and some pipe fitters from Tyneside. Once informed that said drunken old twats would be ‘dining’ in the hotel restaurant that night, the lure of a Lidls supplied picnic in the room seemed very very attractive. Before anyone points out that he could have gone somewhere else to eat, I’ll remind them that the location was Peterhead. Nuff said.
Anyway, that done and dusted, a 0630 saw the start of the suitability survey on the very fine and very new Norwegian ship. Everyone played the game and answered the questions and showed the documentation and opened the hatches and the lids and the doors that needed opening and all was well. Thank you crew of ship.
Into the hired Focus jamjar and down south for 50 miles to the western perimeter of Aberdeen and a Premier Inn. No grub available said the delightfully charming and attractive Polish receptionist, but you can eat at the Crocked Hat next door. Pop head out of door to have a gander at yon place. Ugh. It’s a cross between a ‘Hungry Horse’ and a creche for heroin tuned scratters. Armies of traccy bottomed, football shirted, tattooed, loud , be-childrened mega trash out in force to devour troughs of onion rings and chips and onion rings and chips and onion rings and chips…smoking between courses in great whiffy gaggles outside the swing doors …. Alex Salmond would have so proud of his fine nation’s finest!! That said, it’s reminiscent of so much of modern Blighty. Thank you New Labour, thank you Sure Start….. thank you Primark…………and finally, thank you McCain.
So, as yours truly has a physical aversion to being in the company of that kind of untermensch he opted again for the cabin picnic. Down Mid Stocket Road to the COOP (cos they’re good with food…….but useless at everything else) and a bagful of chicken, tomatoes, wine and bread. Aah, wonderful.
Back in room, having threaded a safe passage through the thronged onion ring eaters, coincidentally, now even louder than before and, somehow, even uglier. Picnic devoured, time for bobos and dreams of anchor handlers and pre-lay systems. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Another early start the following morning, again a nice Norwegian ship, bright vivacious crew, well run, ordered, nice, reassuring, high end, easy to audit. Why? Because it was high end and well manned. Good, thanks.
BA south to Heathrow, of course it’ll be a quiet flight on a Sunday. No it wasn’t, busy. Too busy. No hassle but not enjoyable. Landed on time. Graham and car waiting. Home. Lovely. A day from 0500 to 2300, 18 hours, you get paid for eight. Shit deal really. Sigh.
Still, there’s always gin )