Honeymoon
Got to tell you about my honeymoon in Shieldaig, a small village on the NW coast of Scotland.

Our wedding was a quick got up affair so we had to book something at pretty short notice. The old land lady of what seemed to be the only cottage available told us that she only accepted two week bookings but when she learned that it was our honeymoon she relented and gave us it for the week.

I wish to fuck she'd stuck to her guns.

It looked like she'd furnished the place from charity shops or from bequests from dead colleagues. The beds had all sagged to perfect U shapes. The one available double bed seemed to have been for a kid ... certainly for a person of resticted growth. I'm only 5'9" but my feet and ankles were hanging off the end.

No sofa, only seven of these high backed chairs you get in old folks homes, the kind that minimise the effort of rising. Most were red vinyl so this being early August you'd be sticking to them after about two minutes flat and sweating like a fucking rapist after five.

The kitchen was similarly well appointed ... twenty six (yes, 26) egg cups but only one tea spoon. Fifteen saucers but only one cup. Fortunately there was also a mug so at least we could have a cup of tea at the same time. ( Water boiled in a pot by the way - no kettle.)

To top it all we were awoken ever moring at 7 by contractors in huge mechanical diggers etc shoring up the sea loch bank right outside or bedroom window with huge boulders. This from 7am till 5pm daily had us about demented.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention the decor. All the pictures on the walls were of witches and wizards and other supernatural shit. The new Mrs Tupper was genuinely spooked by the whole experience.

We lasted a whole four days then came home.
( Ramsay Tupper, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 9:47, Reply)