Back of Beyond - October 2006

Just back from the whisky olympics, oops I mean the Royal National Mod, held this year in the glamorous town of Dunoon. I should quickly point out that the purpose of the trip was not to air my own talents, but those of my daughter who was singing in the choir. We met the other choir members and parents, old hands and fellow mod virgins alike, at the old pier (thanks Arnish!) in the cold wet pre-dawn, boarded the boat and headed for the bar to kick things off... no... to sit in comfort as the boat was heaving with other young Mod hopefuls. Despite the early hour the mood was optimistic; amazingly it was still so 10 hours later when we finally arrived at our Hogwartsesque accomodation. The kids all piled off the bus to run round the place screaming for the next 4 hours whilst the adults covertly but desperately tried to ascertain whether anyone had had the foresight to bring along some alcohol, a bar being conspicuously absent.

The next day dawned dull and dreich, but undaunted, we all set off for Dunoon, kids all smart in their kilts and shiny shoes. This posed a bit of a problem - how to keep them smart until the first competition at 2 o' clock. The answer of course was shopping, and lots of it. Gleefully they headed for Woolies, then Mackays, oohing and aahing as if they didn't exist in Stornoway at all. In fairness though, there isn't much else in Dunoon.

Finally came the appointed hour and we parents sat sweating in our seats as our wee ones sang their hearts out. In addition to the triumph of nobody farting or picking their nose on stage, they came second in all three competitions, beaten each time (and in the last one by a mere point) by the Sir E. Scott school in Tarbert. This choir was so large that as they trooped past to take the stage someone was heard to mutter, "is there anybody left in Harris?"

The strain of sitting in the Queen's Hall listening to the same songs over and over again was beginning to show by the evening so we retired to the nearby Indian restaurant for some wine... and maybe a bite to eat. Then followed the loser's ceilidh, not that that was quite how it was billed, held in a local leisure centre. By the time the kids had gambled the night away on the slot machines they were all thinking that second was the best place to be, otherwise it would have been another 3 hours in the Queen's Hall listening to those songs again...

8 o'clock on Wednesday morning and we were all back on the bus, hitting the north in the hope of an hour's shopping in Inverness before the ferry. A kind of wartime spirit had overtaken us by this time and we drove over Rannoch Moor and through Glencoe to the sounds of the Puirt over the bus tannoy system, which was both maddening and strangely fitting. As we went through the Fort, we passed our accomodation for the Mod 2007, and we vowed that next year we would let the Hearachs' bus tyres down if we found ourselves parked beside them, our restraint this time having gone unrewarded.

So well done to everyone involved, and I wonder just how long it's going to take me to get those ****** songs out of my head. All together now, Abu Chuibhl', Abu Chuibhl', Abu abu chuibhl' i..........