Silver Surfer's Travels Part 3 - Essentials for Scottish holidaymakers: Bread, steak, beer and vodka

This is the third installment of The Silver Surfer’s visit. For part 1 click here. For part two click here.

I‘ve never met anyone who eats more bread than Granny Annie and Uncle George. Every day a new loaf is opened and panic sets in over breakfast. They share out slices, setting aside lunchtime rations, snacks, supper and another slice or two ‘just in case’. Seemingly it isn’t worth getting up unless the fridge is well stocked with bread, butter, cheese and at least two cases of beer. Rest assured that anyone else deciding they may fancy a sandwich might not survive the day. Once the bread ritual ends the snooze sessions begin. Uncle George on one sofa, Granny on the other.

I have given up my bedroom for the month… a month of sleeping on the floor in the lounge. A WHOLE MONTH of sleeping in the midst of a Wild West movie… Uncle George is very deaf. Very deaf and adamant that he doesn’t need a hearing aid. He sleeps all day and stays up all night with the TV on full blast (I hate the person who invented surround sound). Two weeks into their stay I decided that earplugs, eye masks and sleeping with a blanket over my head was just not cutting it. I’ve now decided to drink copious amounts of alcohol so I spend most of my time in a drink-induced coma. A hangover is definitely preferable when you’ve had some sleep.

Drama! We discovered this afternoon that bars would be ‘dry’ for twenty-four hours as it was Prophet Mohammed’s birthday. I saw the colour drain from Uncle George’s face as I told him that his favourite pub would be closed – He couldn’t quite understand why the pubs would be shut for someone’s birthday and not open longer! We decided that we would go to the local Italian but only after I called them to make sure he could get a steak… He couldn’t possibly have eaten any ‘Foreign muck’.

Fortunately we arrived at the restaurant and the manager had been briefed, the problems started when Uncle had to order two side dishes to go with his steak. The first one he picked easily – baked potato. The panic set in when he looked through the rest of the choices and realised he may have to put something green on his plate. He read out the dishes time and time again whilst the sweat formed on his brow, he glanced at my Gran and I for help and when I asked him what vegetables he wanted he just kept saying ‘tatties’. I think he nearly cried with relief when we conceded and said he didn’t have to have vegetables.

Granny was scanning the menu whilst mumbling to herself and every time she reached the end she told me that she couldn’t see what she wanted, Spaghetti Carbonara (the only Italian dish she knew the name of!). The chef agreed to make her one and all was well in the world again… well, until I made her try some gnocchi – I thought she was going to spit it back at me!

I have never known a meal to finish so quickly. Uncle George couldn’t get over the fact that he had to have a soft drink with his steak so we made it back to the house where he happily clutched his half bottle of vodka… It may have been the Prophet’s birthday but Uncle wasn’t willing to give up his Scottish roots, even if it was just for one night.