Scottish Thoughts
from the Editor

The 44th went out one day
To Scottish lands far, far away
Off we went - the nine of us
Crammed into the minibus
With bags piled high on every seat
And boxes full of things to eat
Tents and sleeping bags and hats,
Cameras, gas stoves and roll mats.
At a traffic jam we made some friends
By displaying pictures of rear ends.
When we arrived in Gretna Green
We put away the magazine.
We pitched camp and ate our tea:
Fresh crusty bread and chilli
Tasty cakes made everyone feel all right,
So we played football into the night.

Next morning road works sent us on our way
We went to Stranraer for the day.
Wondering what was in store for us;
At Stranraer we caught the bus
To Port Patrick - far away
The start of the "Southern Upland Way."
We walked for what seemed like hours,
Over beaches, hills and fields of flowers.
To the campsite we returned
And ate our chicken, which Joe burned.
On the swings we all did play
And seeing a "wee doogie" made our day.
Alasdair and Giles got "flaming" indigestion
While Matthew "flashed" - best not to question!

A few days later, all but three
Went on a practice hike for D of E
But, alas - Jon did fall
Getting off a dry stone wall
"It doesn't hurt at all," he said,
But then he started to turn red.
Matthew and Alasdair ran over the hill
To seek help from the nearby Phil.
With Jon on board, off Phil went
While the others carried on to put up the tent.

At the hospital Jon had no fun -
The doctor thought I was his mum!
Of course I was quite offended.
Jon's broken ankle must be mended.
He was carted off to: "The Plaster Room"
In a super-fast wheelchair - zoom!
Jon soon emerged - his pride hurt
Because he had to wear a skirt!
To keep him happy we had a trip
To the local shop for fish and chips.

Now, the campsite we had for that night
Was home to swarms of flies that bite.
They entered tents and chewed at us
So all took refuge in the bus.
No pubs involved - Jon returned plastered
And chucked us out of the bus (- the b*stard!)
Because he had to sleep with his leg up high
In order to let his plaster cast dry.
That night every carnivorous flying beast
For miles around came to us to feast
They bit so much it made us weep
We only got three hours of sleep.

A few days later, having recovered
From the traumatic experience that we suffered
We took a trip to Bladnoch distillery
To see how Scotsmen made the whisky.
Jon's cripple sticks kept sticking in the ground
He provided great entertainment as we walked around!
Not being allowed to have a "wee dram"
We ate lunch instead - Ryvita and jam.
Except for Rich; AKA "Paddington Bear"
Who managed to spread marmalade everywhere.
After lunch we hosed Rich down
And we took a short walk into Wigtown.
The name suggests hair and toupees
But in this place reading is the craze
For this small village is renown
As being Scotland's best "book town."

The 44th were later seen,
Sat around Wigtown's bowling green.
Reading our books and drinking pop
That we bought at the local shop.
The books getting dull, and the sun still blazing
We discovered the public toilets - amazing!
We drank up the last remains of our drink
And filled up our bottles from the taps at the sink
The water fight was hours of fun
But if I got wet, you'd better run!

Other memorable events included:
Walks to places - quite secluded.
Roundabouts where we made ourselves sick,
And repetitive songs that "got on our wick,"
Haggis, mosquitoes and the people we met,
Made Scotland a trip we will never forget.