More Roamerisms from the early 1990s
Fort William’s tourism director Bruce Simpson was doubling as the Good Samaritan last Saturday morning. The previous day, at the ‘towrist’ office, Bruce had advised a visitor there was a Saturday bus service to Oban at 9.30am from the Transport Centre. Later on Friday, he realised the timetable had changed, with the bus now leaving from the Parade at 9.45am. So on Saturday morning, Bruce took himself to the transport centre well before half nine to explain this to the ‘towrist’. But 9.30am came and went, with no sign of the intending passenger. So Bruce moved along to the Parade, but the fella didn’t appear there either. Hope he got to Oban eventually. Meanwhile, Bruce was having a chequered start to his day off.
Quite a few interesting ‘signatures’ of visitors to the Lochaber Experience Exhibition. For example, ‘Yuri Gagarin’ ‘signed in’ at the Mallaig Harbour Authority stand. Shades of the days when Lochaber hotel registers were full of names like Fats Domino, Davy Crockett, Clement Attlee and Willie Woodburn, when you had to ‘autograph’ the book to qualify for your bona fide Sunday pint.
It was ‘Turgid Tuesday’ as far as the local press were concerned. Three of us sat in Lochaber House from 11am till 1pm and again from 2pm to 5.30pm. We made our usual notes of the proceedings, remarking there was plenty of talk but not a lot of action. At 5.30pm, we were invited by a committee chairperson to vacate the chamber ‘for five minutes’ so that Item 45 on the agenda – about the replacement Dorran houses – could be discussed in private.
Despite the fact no standing order protocol was observed, no resolution passed, no vote taken, we three, without explanation, had to take ourselves into press ‘limboland’ – the Lochaber House stairwell. Seating not provided. Why should we need to sit down, if it was only a five-minute interval? Well, the five minutes extended to an hour-and-a-half, as this particularly contentious item – and we know it was contentious – rumbled on. At the end of the debate – at 7pm – a number of the elected members picked up their papers and baled out of the chamber. ‘The meeting’s adjourned,’ they advised the stairwell trio. Back in we went to collect our papers. The chairperson, vice chairperson and chief executive were still there. Did they smile – even ruefully – and confirm to us the item under discussion – in camera – had overrun? Nope. Did they acknowledge it was rather a shame that we three had been in exile outside? Nope. Some councillors and officials often observe their local authority gets a bad press. Well the council gets the press it deserves. And now you can see why.
There was consternation in the High Street on Monday and Tuesday. At the West End, a shop manageress went to put the bin out at 5.30pm. But the wind caught the opened front door of the premises and locked her out, leaving her stranded on the pavement till the cavalry arrived. No such difficulties for a retailer nearer the East End. He got a 5am phone call from the police to tell him the front door of his shop appeared to have been open all night.
Still on the High Street, Iain was wending his way through it from the library where he’d spent an hour or two. He was chewing a sweet. In his pocket were two letters to post. Arriving at the Post Office Iain proceeded to mail his sweetie papers. Then he dropped his letters into one of the tercentenary commemorative green and crested litter bins which have sprung up around town. Consternation reigned. Iain rummaged about, trying to get his hand far enough down the bin to extract the letters. Meanwhile, shouts were coming up the postal chute that the Royal Mail don’t frank sweetie papers, thank you. Iain gave up the struggle and decided he’d have to tell all to Lochaber House. He explained his predicament to ‘enquiries’ and was advised someone would be down with a key to the bin. The key duly arrived, an hour later. And the letters were extracted – and re-directed.
Spare a thought for another Iain – the one who was to provide safety cover for entrants in the Two Ferries Road Race. Iain duly arrived at Treslaig, ready for action. But no sign of any runners. ‘They’re cutting it a bit fine for the race, aren’t they?’ Iain observed to the ‘oldest boatman’. ‘It’s five to two now.’ Oldest boatman removed pipe from mouth and replied: ‘It’s yourself that’s a bit early, actually. By five minutes – and a week!’
The telecom lads were a bit put out because they couldn’t get Radios 1, 2, 3 or 4 in their vans last Friday as they sped around Lochaber attending to their customers’ every requirement. So they jarred the BBC boys at Camaghael.
They were very communicative. ‘The break in transmission is due to a landline being cut. A telecom landline!’