GALA.

Well here I am in the sunny (and warm!) Town of Galashiels, Scotland, or as the locals simply call it, Gala. It’s not too far from Edinburgh but a bit of a drive from Hull. Five looooonggg hours. My oldest daughter works here now as a midwife so we’re here to see what delights it offers. We drove up through the winding road of The Northumbrian National Park. Now I know the countryside is lovely but after awhile there’s only so many hills and trees I can take. In fact I think it could do with a KFC or a Macdonald’s dotted about along the way through the greenery, or maybe a few pizza shops next to Hadrian’s Wall.

The Crest of Arms of Gala shows two foxes eating sour plums. Apparently it represents a scrimish a few hundred years ago when a bunch of hungry English soldiers found a fruit tree and decided to tuck in, which turned out to be a bad move as they were attacked by the Scots, who massacred them all. I’m hoping the people here are friendlier than their ancestors and I’m definitely avoiding the plums.

So I’ve been told to tone it down a bit. No bad Scottish accent shouting, “Hoots Man!” or singing ‘Donald where’s your trousers?’ as I walk down the street….but genuinely….you will not believe it….there is an actual Kilt Shop! Hoots Man! I’m away to get fitted up!