Chaterault..Shaterolt…Chaterall. arrhhh I’m hoping that if I say it enough times I might just pronounce it right.
Yes, I’m talking the Highland Games at Chatelherault House in Hamilton. I’m ashamed to say that I grew up 10 miles from this place and yet had never heard of it till Sunday!
Well, I have now…..for some pleasant reasons and some…well some not so good.
The day started off well.. We got up, had breakfast, got there and got the marquee up. All that without having a fight( I say fight, but it’s what the pirate refers to as my “hunger anger”.. It’s what happens when I don’t eat within twenty minutes of opening my eyes. I’ve been known to bite.
We got set up, sat back and admired our rather gorgeous table display!(tho don’t tell the Pirate..he likes to think himself more rock and roll than “table display”!)..
I then ticked off a personal “meet your hero” box by bumping into Hamish the heavy events commentator from the World Pipe Bands… Hamish famously once said whilst describing Sebastian a rather enormous Polish Athlete, that he was the “biggest tosser in Europe” as he made his second throw in the caber contest….Alas, this unconscious humour was lost on the visiting crowd, but I had a knowing smile as i chatted to Hamish on Sunday!
Feeling a little sleepy, I then went for a little nap in the back of the Uncle Buck mobile..aka the Estate…..My sleep despite shared by a rotting “magic tree” air-freshner and Davids trainers was lovely. I awoke refreshed(pine scented) and ready for a days hard trading.. But wait… a problem…the tiny little issue of having to get out of the boot of the car. It hadn’t actually occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to get out(having never been a hostage of any political significance). I hadn’t planned for this. No problem I thought, I have my phone.. I’ll call David who was a mere 6 ft away in the tent.. I rang him.. 6 TIMES …voicemail… Admittedly I had started to panic a little at this point but then, I saw it, my escape route. I made my way to the front of the car and out a passenger door…..disaster averted.
Feeling quite smug with my newly found escapology skills I made my way into the tent…Only to trip over the hanging rail, skid along the grass and end up with my hand in a pile of excrement….I have no shame in telling you that I started to cry…more so when David came back into the tent and found me with a skint leg, a bruise and my right hand covered in what I can only describe as an agricultural jobby. Lets just say I’ve looked more attractive.
But I digress…the games themselves were fun..lots of big heavies literally throwing their weight about and a (very) unusual display of on-land fly fishing by a lovely wee man in a hat….Unfortunately his head mic wasn’t working so it was more Freddie Star than Paul Young. All in all a nice wee Sunday….Thanks for having us Chatelherault! x





























