RETRO Roamer
THE ROAMER column was the highlight of a Thursday for many Lochaber readers, and so this week he returns with a timely look back at the events and people that made it into his columns in the mid 1980s ...
‘I wouldn’t tie him there,’ advised the Corpach shopkeeper when the visitor from the Lowlands looped the lead of his large Alsatian around a metal Lyons Maid advertising board on the pavement. ‘Oh, he’ll be alright,’ replied the owner, as he carried on into the shop. Suddenly the Alsatian – and advert – took off like something from Cape Canaveral, and pounded and clattered along the A830. Embarrassed dog owner went off in hot pursuit, and Alsatian – and advert, which, by now looked like ‘Lyons Unmade’ – were saved and salvaged just along from the hotel. ‘You were right,’ confessed the embarrassed dog owner’ as, this time, he took his dog into the shop.
A Doberman went one better outside William Low’s. One minute it was hitched to a stray trolley outside the supermarket – the next both were off along the High Street, the combination resembling a ‘dog and cart’. Then the trolley careered off the pavement and landed on the bonnet of a car parked alongside the Lych Gate. Doberman was taken into custody by its master. Peace was restored, but it could have been a more serious incident.
Member of visiting USA contingent called in at one of our tartan shops looking for an ‘ornamental fork’ to match his sgian dubh. For the other leg, I presume. His day started badly, as a result, and got worse. For, at high noon, he and his colleagues visited the police station. ‘OK,’ said he, ‘where do we go to get our rented car back, now that you’ve towed it away?’ The brief and polite police response was : ‘We don’t pick up cars, sir.’ It seems that the motor had been left in the middle of our bustling town, but, after a wander through the High Street, the US party became disorientated. So much so that they had walked past their car en route for the police station to ask for it back.
Can you picture the look on the face of the home counties driver who announced to the tourist office personnel how pleased he was to reach here in under 10 hours, and could they tell him how to get to his hotel. Only to be advised that the hotel he had booked into was around 200 miles away … in PORT William in Galloway.
A lassie in one of the phone kiosks in Claggan, having contacted the exchange for a number, was asked: ‘Is there no directory in the box?’ Said she: ‘No directory? There’s no door or windows either.’ There was a swift response to this Claggan phone box item. No, not from BT but from a couple of kiosk callers who rang me to advise that the underfoot conditions in the box are such that it should be renamed ‘Claggan sewage treatment plant’. A far cry from the days when, according to Gus, there used to be ceilidh-dances in the phone box up Blarmacfoldach.
There they were at the Morar crossing – British Rail’s ‘higher authority’ and members of Lochaber District Council and Morar Community Council. Just before a train was due, one local asked, ‘What speed are the trains supposed to be doing when they approach the crossing?’ Came the higher authority officious reply: ‘10mph.’ Then the train went through … doing 20 at least.
As the last train for An Gearasdan pulled out of Corrour it left behind a very important passenger. The relief signalman. He should have climbed on board to get into the guard’s van. But, somehow, he contrived to get himself stranded. Fortunately his absence was quickly noticed, and train reversed and took him on board.
This is true. A certain local member of the journalistic profession (all right, then, journalistic game) was reporting on a recent Highland League match at Claggan Park for one of the Sunday papers. When he got through to the Glasgow copytaker he rhymed off: ‘Football. Highland League. Fort William v Keith.’ He then started to file his report. But the copy taker interrupted. ‘Hey, is V Keith the goalkeeper?’ Our local hack, having been allowed to continue, advised: ‘Final result Fort William 0, Keith 0.’ He was then about to launch into his match story, but the copy taker got in again: ‘You haven’t given me the half-time score.’
A couple of weeks later the same reporter was at Claggan for the Fort William v Rothes game. A snore draw. So, for variety, our hack didn’t name the teams. He named the crowd. Honest.
Did you observe the swimming pool ‘annexe’ last week? At the end of a particularly rainy day there was nearly a foot of floodwater on Belford Road, across from Belhaven ward.
Great interest is being expressed in the ‘dig’ in Cameron Square. And many and varied are the theories put forward as to its purpose. I can dispel some of the conjectures. 1. They are not looking for a secret no-charge cinema tunnel into/out of the all weather centre. 2. A winning, but lost betting slip is not being sought. 3. There is no hidden hoard of the bottle stoppers of MacFarlane’s aerated waters, formerly used by the Viewforth gang as marbles, and planked near the side door of the Town Hall. However, it is entirely possible that the diggers are trying to locate the geyser under the square which has been giving the AWC an endless supply of fresh spring water. It could be, also, that the lead-up to the Rocky Brae is being made more difficult for the Six Days Trialists – not to mention the locals.
I hear that a local honeymoon couple off to Tenerife are in for a surprise. For, holidaying in the same hotel is a friend of theirs who intends to give them early morning calls each day – so they can go jogging with him.