Well it is massively late for me to be typing this up and so
I’ll probably forget loads of things and you’ll all shout at me for doing such
a rubbish job after nagging and harassing and hassling to get the pictures to
me as quickly after we got back as possible and I have no real excuse except
for being an unreliable sort. I hope you can forgive me. It is just a week
since the happy occasion actually happened, which this weekend was celebrating,
and that is what prompted me to get myself sorted out and actually edit the
pictures and type something up. I am so used to the format of my blog, where I
type words to go with pictures, that I have decided to set up this blog page
and type this random collection of words to accompany your pictures. And
videos. We cannot forget the videos!
And so, the first picture (thanks to Billy for this one)
taken in the taxi on the way up to Edinburgh after we had gathered at the
studio and drunk tea and coffee and had a natter. Poor Billy, who’s tummy was
not good all weekend; every service station we went past we were in there and
he was on the loo. Bless, there is nothing really worse than being stuck in a
cab with a bunch of your mates when all you want to do is be sat on the throne
and shitting in private. All I can say is fair play for getting out of your
sick bed and accompanying us; it wouldn’t have been the same without you.
Mainly because no other fucker took ANY pictures in the cab.
Only slightly delayed due to Billy’s bottom we were suddenly
driving through the ancient streets of Edinburgh, over cobbles and under
bridges and past a load of road works and then into a quiet yard where we found
the keys and let ourselves into our accommodation. Due to a mix up with the
booking company we had been moved from our original flat and I think we came
out of it very much on top; we found ourselves just behind the Toll Booth on
the Royal Mile and while the location was brilliant it was beaten out by the
quality of the house. Spread over three floors were beds and sofas and toilets
and showers – plenty of space for everyone and Dan got to have his own room.
And so to the group. From left to right (in the arbitrary
order of when I came across you all while you were running around the apartment
claiming beds and finding the toilets and doing whatever) we have Cjc,
Timmyyyyyyyyyy, Billy, Jobbié, Dave, Matt “Fucking” Sellars and Rob. I’m not
here because I was taking the pictures and there has to be some benefit to
being the one who took the pictures, and gets to type all this up. There’ll be
some of me later on though, I promise.
With everyone able to put a name to a bed we spent some time
just chilling out in the apartment, drinking beer/whisky/water/Dr Pepper and
chattering. There was no feeling of urgency to get out as the initial thought
was tonight would be a quiet one and the main night out would be the Saturday. After
a little while we figured that sitting around in the flat wasn’t really what we
should be doing, being so close to the centre, so we got ourselves together and
hit the street.
First of all we dropped into the pub right by the Toll Booth
and had a pint then made our way slowly up the high street. By this time we
were all ready for eating something and so very foolishly we took Matt’s advice
and went into a café just on the Royal Mile. At first we were quite happy but
when the food arrived (and in my case it was not what I had ordered) and then
we ate it and found it tasted like arse we commenced to giving Mr Sellars grief
as he deserved.
Notwithstanding Matt’s complete failure to guide us to a
suitable eatery we had a good laugh at this place and I would never recommend
it to anyone at all. It was getting quite late and a few beers had been drunk
by this time so rather than head back for the early night as planned we decided
to head on up the hill and find some other bars. This is one thing which
Edinburgh seems to have a surfeit of; bars. Our numbers worked in our favour as
at least one place we went into the barman asked how many of us were coming and
he made it clear that if our group had been bigger and we wouldn’t have been
allowed in; this is fair enough as it was quite a nice quiet pub. We weren’t
rowdy anyway. Not by this time at least.
I for one cannot remember all that much about the evening. I
do remember that we got to a bar and myself and Cjc were stood chatting to a
couple of girls and then Jobbié came over and introduced himself (though they
saw through him immediately and confirmed that his name was “Jobby?”) and then
the next thing I realised that I was sat on the sofa with Cjc in the same bar
and every other bugger had disappeared. Cheeky sods. Obviously we went to the
bar for another pint and the same girls were there and, long story short, we
ended up in the back of the Lesbian Rickshaw. This involved her taking us right
to the top of the Royal Mile up to the castle (we had to push most of the way
which doesn’t seem to be right as we were paying for the “lift”) and then
kamikaze-ing her way back down at extreme speeds while swerving towards
oncoming traffic and laughing all the way. It was great but I do wonder if we’d
still be going if I hadn’t spotted the pub near our digs and said “THIS IS US!”
and made her stop. What fun.
All of this meant that me and Cjc were the last to get back
to the apartment on the first night and when we returned we found that kebabs
had been bought and that was why we had been deserted. Anyway it was time for
bed so off we went and, other than some substantial farts from Matt which woke
me up, I slept really well. Cjc was first out of our room (it was me, he and
Matt in one room) with his laptop and when I finally dragged my sorry hungover
arse out of bed and went downstairs I found that he was sat up with Billy
chatting. I made a brew and then Billy went back to bed and shortly other
people joined us. It had been a rather more intense night than planned but no
one was complaining (other than sore heads). I of course had to go in and raid
Jobbié room where he was sleeping and very unimpressed when the flash on my
camera went off. Oh well; tough life being the stag.
Breakfast was an individual matter; I’m pretty sure that
Timmyyyyyyyyyy and Rob may have gone out to get something from the shop but I
wasn’t really paying attention as the only thing my hangover wanted was a dirty
greasy fryup so off we went, me and Cjc again, up the road to the Turkish café
we had spotted previously. Breakfast was outstanding, served by a lovely
Turkish girl and it was a pleasure for me to hear the language again. We were
joined by a couple of other people searching for bacon and after a lot of tea I
started to feel a semblance of humanity once more.
Saturday was the day for the “event” which every stag do has
to have. Jobbié had replied, when asked “what do you want to do”, “I want to
shoot something” and so we were collected by our friendly driver and driven out
across the bridge a way to a rifle range. We were early and had a cuppa in the
café while waiting but then were met by a friendly chap who showed us the guns,
explained the rules, and let us rip. What a blast and with the time ending with
a bit of a competition it was only right that Jobbié should win the overall
event having shot Timmy through the head for the bonus points. I want to add
that I came second and was awesome.
After the shooting we were dropped back at the apartment and
had some time to just relax. A few people got their heads down but I went out
for a walk around (it was cold and windy, but bright, out) with Cjc up to the
castle and then back down round by the back streets where we found a few good
art shops and also some whisky places. We were both pretty strong and didn’t
buy anything too expensive but it was a good way to pass an hour or two before
the next organised stage of the weekend.
As Matt had been complaining all the previous night about
forgetting to bring a hat I’d found him a lovely tartan cap in a shop up the
hill and this was worn with much joy all for the rest of the night. I have it
on good authority that it has become the “gardening hat” and is still worn
regularly.
It was now time for the best moment of the whole weekend. We
had all been told, before even getting in the cab to come up here, that
Jobbié’s dad had managed to fly in to the country in time to get up to join us
for the Saturday night. We kept this really quiet and, when it was about time
to meet him, got ourselves ready and headed round the corner to the Tollbooth
Tavern where he was waiting for us. We all clocked him straight away but Dan
(not being on the look out) didn’t and the look in his eyes when he saw his
father had managed to get out to join him was totally awesome. What a wonderful
surprise!
We had a couple of pints there and then decided to try and
find somewhere to eat. Sensibly we did not allow Matt to suggest anywhere but
went to a curry house that me and Cjc had walked past earlier. It being a
Saturday night and us not having made a reservation we were a little concerned
that we wouldn’t get a table however we were seated straight away and what a great choice it was to have made. The
food was really nice, served quickly, and it was very tasty. The waiter was
happy to take a picture of the group on a phone so here we all are, not blurry
and not out of focus for once. You will notice that sadly Billy hadn’t made it
out this long but he had been there for the big reveal of Steve and that was
great.
After eating it was time to go back to the Tollbooth as
Jobbié had noticed that there was karaoke on and there was no way that this man
was going to miss his chance to shine. And did he shine! I’ve just watched this
back while editing it a bit and had tears in my eyes; especially when he grabs
the guitar. This man is made for the stage and I reckon that in twenty years
time will be running a karaoke night somewhere and entertaining everyone like
he did us a couple of times through the evening. There were other videos but
none as good as this one. At one point he even got me up there to sing a song
(I can’t remember what it was; can someone comment with the name of it?) but no
one was stupid enough to commit that to film.
After we had finished bossing the karaoke (and yes, people
did get up and dance a bit later) we said goodbye to Steve and headed towards a
bar which Matt had recommended we find. This ended up being a great idea and he
was forgiven for the awful food of the day before. I can’t remember the name of
this place either but it was right up our street; a rambling maze of strange
rooms and corridors with an array of different styles of music represented.
There was even a cinema which was screening horror movies which you could go
into and relax in. I’ll be finding this place again if I get back up to
Edinburgh for sure.
While we were exploring we found some stocks and so
Timmyyyyyyyyyy volunteered to try them out. There were no rotten vegetables
laying around to be thrown at him sadly so we let him out and went on our way. I
think I speak for everyone when I say we were actually feeling quite tired by
this point and the only problem with this bar was a lack of seating. This was
resolved when Jobbié dropped a doozy in the corridor and cleared everyone else
out, leaving us with seats to rest our wearies on.
After this brilliant club we went next door and ended up in
the same place as the previous night of the Lesbian Rickshaw Driver. This
evening there was no such excitement, however. The date was getting on for
Halloween and the pub was fully decorated to celebrate, as were the patrons. We
probably had a couple of pints or so in here but everyone was still tired and
so after laughing at Timmyyyyyyy for wearing a scream mask, and then making
sure it was returned to above the mantelpiece where he had found it (no
thievery for us), we headed back to the apartment and hit the sack. It wasn’t
that we didn’t stay out; indeed it was last orders and we were about the last
to actually leave that pub, but we hadn’t hit the beer too hard and this was a
good thing. It worked out just right.
The next morning I was once again woken by Matt’s arse
shouting and so I abandoned my room and went for a brew. There was more
movement earlier this morning as the hangovers weren’t as bad however Halloween
was still in evidence with this shocking sight; this picture was from mine
however I was not the only one to capture the Sexy Man Beast prowling in search
of breakfast.
Talking of which we went back to the same Turkish restaurant
and had more lovely bacon and eggs once everyone was feeling a little more like
leaving the house and then we headed towards Arthur’s Seat. We had left it too
late to try to get right up to the top and back down before Cjc had a train to
catch (Billy and Dave had already gone for theirs as they were on an earlier
one, with Steve as it happened) and then we were due for collection by the taxi
driver. It was a shame to not achieve the summit but the blast of fresh air
blew all the cobwebs away and the views from where we did get to were stunning.
We made our way slowly back to the apartment and then it was
time for collecting and then the time was passed and there was no sign of the
taxi. With Billy on a train somewhere, and the “emergency contact” number not
much use, we were facing another night in Edinburgh, but with no accommodation
but eventually it was sorted out and we found that the collection guy (a
different driver than we had had all weekend) hadn’t been told that we had
changed flats. The journey back was not half as much fun as that going up,
particularly as the driver had dreadful taste in music and played awful pop
tunes all the way. Those of you on trains you really did make the right choice.
And this is why we did it.
What a great time it was, and what a great even the wedding
was, and may I add again my best wishes and love to Dan and Ash.