WIGTOWN RALLY

Had discussed this rally with Mary all through the week and couldn’t decide whether to leave Friday night or early Sat morning, hmmmmm So we awoke sat morning and thought fuk it  lets go as no one else fancied it, but bring bring, it’s Pete on the blower itching to go, good good we thought as we would have a wee bit of company on the way down. Pete arrives and with all the pricking about we didn’t set off until the back of 2pm, Mary had planned the route only 5 min before we left, never again!!! This should be well looked at the night before me thinks, as you will read about further on. We set off from my house, the back roads to Lanark then picked up the A73 to Abington, now this is where we then took the back roads all the way to Wigtown boooooooooooo, never again. I can now say that I have travelled this road and do not wish to do it again, don’t get me wrong the scenery and quaint wee towns are a great representation of this part of Scotland. But when you have miles of roads with no civilization and signs that say 15 miles to the next town, so 15 miles in and the next sign says 24 miles EH, EH?? What’s that’s all about, me thinks it’s the in bread country yokels tacking the piss, NO?? And hairy assed sheep (MMM HAIRY ASSED SHEEP, one had a rather fetching pair of horns to grab onto………. Anyway…..I had forgot my wellies and not a cliff in sight) running out in front of you, WOW nearly came off, lucky for the sheep, cause a beasting was on the cards as I was so bored driving these roads. Stopped for a fag break, as the ass was numb and I had a grump on as no towns for miles and 3 hours into the journey, back on the scoots and wayhay a town. Filled up the tanks and asked how far Wigtown was, and the reply was sweet to the ears SIX MILES, yah dancer. Next stop beer shop then camp site, on entering the site which was to the rear of a Whiskey Distillery, paid entrance fee which consisted of a free nip of whiskey. I’d been chocking on a drink since I got up, so over the hatch it went WOOOOHOOO instant head rush followed by a rather nice warm feeling. Now Pete sipped then over it went after a POOF comment from yours truly. Hhahaha the facials were reminiscing of the vodka necking in Germany (Munich Blues Party) hahaha even the workers in the chippy van 100 yards behind us were entertained by his antics, Pussy drinker, 10 out of 10 for his perseverance though.

 On entering the camp site we sat for 5min scouting the site for some usual suspects and were met by Red (Bed an Breakfast SC) and Raaaaaaaaym…..ond!! AKA Goldie or later to be known as, Lord of Carmarthenshire (not sure of the spelling, doh!!) We pitched up next to them, rolled a fat one and begun to sink several ales and enjoyed each others company for a hour or two. There was the usual faces milling about, with a big turn out from the Irish well it is just a short trip across the water. There was only one casualty from the night before and it even brought tears to my eyes. Now every male has caught his prize jewel in his zip at some point, but only just, and you could zip it down again, and the pain that follows aint nice. Well the man Skolar managed to zip the whole shaft all the way up his zip, ooooooooyaaaaah- fooooker. Ambulance was called as it was that serious. He was rather silent, and had a walk like he’d shit himself the whole weekend, hahahah you got to laugh at other peoples misfortune……haven’t you???  The evening doo was the usual, with a wide selection of sounds being played. There was a good hour of Indie music with up to date tracks in there too which I was impressed with, more of please, as it gets the young ones up. And if you want to keep the young ones in the scene you have to introduce more of this music at rallies!!! The night passed in a flash as it always does with good company. The next morning we awoke to pissing rain, so with the tent drenched I pulled myself out for a cuppa and a roll and set off, leaving the tent hahaha first for me, hahaa how rock and roll eh!! (NOT) I for one enjoyed this rally and plan to be there next year.

 

Squire.

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