Greetings All,

In the last thrilling instalment, prior to the Brexit rant, I waxed lyrical on the joys of log splitting.  Well, it did seem to occupy a lot of my last leave.  This time I want to talk about Edinburgh, Rugby and Whisky. Oh yes. I may also have to rant on a bit about Scotrail. But more of that anon.

First, one off the highlights of the last trip home was a trip to Edinburgh, to watch Scotland play Wales at Murrayfield. It’s been years since I was last there and this was an opportunity to take Small Daughter to her first International Rugby Match.

Rugby International

I had the brain wave one weekend morning whilst I was languishing in Iraq. I was contemplating what we could do whilst I was home, as one does. The Rugby seemed a great idea.  But could I still get tickets?  These days, 6 Nations tickets are rarer than Rocking Horse Poop, so looking in January for a March game was a little optimistic.

Undeterred, I went online and was pleasantly surprised to see there were still tickets to be had.  Mainly, it seemed from Viagogo.  Hmm. Heard of these boys before and not much of it was good. But the main problem I had read about seemed to be rip off prices. Not unduly worried by that. My attitude is, if the tickets are an extortionist price, you decide whether to buy them or not. If you think it’s worth it, buy them. If not, don’t.  As it turned out, Viagogo had 3 great seats together in the Lower Western Stand. They were expensive, but I decided it was too good an opportunity to miss, so went ahead and bought them. We were all set.

To make it a proper adventure weekend, I also decided to buy rail tickets from Elgin to Edinburgh. Let’s make it a proper adventure and let the train take the strain, rather than drive. We might as well stay over so I booked us for a few nights into the Radisson Blu hotel on the Royal Mile and for good measure, booked a table at the Innes and Gunn Beer Kitchen for dinner after the game. This was going to be top fun.

Viagogo

A few days later, I got an e-mail from Viagogo advising that the tickets had been dispatched with UPS and were on their way. Yayyyy.  I started monitoring the tracking info they supplied, excitedly awaiting their arrival at home. Sadly after only one update, with the tickets having arrived at Dartford, they got stuck. “Error – package sorting error  – expect delay” or some such. Not what I  wanted to hear.  Still,  we had weeks and weeks before the game so no great worry.  The update occurred on a Friday. By Monday it was the same status. Hmm. I left it another day or so then as there was still no update, rang UPS.  They couldn’t help me, other than to say if it hadn’t been updated for a number of days, my package  was probably lost. Please contact Viagogo.

A bit worried now, I contacted Viagogo and spoke to what seemed like a very helpful man. He told me not to worry and he would contact UPS personally to get an update. He would call me straight back. And he did.  It seemed I had stuffed up my post code. Obviously in my enthusiasm to buy the tickets, I had rushed the address and missed a letter from our postcode.  A good Posty would have still managed to get the package to us, but of course, everything is automated these days and so the sorting machine had had a dicky fit  and spat my package out.

I thought this was easy enough to resolve. I corrected my postcode in my account and nice man from Viagogo assured me not to worry. Worst case, the tickets would be returned to them and they would resend. Most likely scenario, the post code would be updated by UPS and the package would go on its merry way.  All was still good.

The Saga…..

Long story short, over the next 10 days or so the tickets had a bit of a grand tour of the UK.  They visited Telford, Carlisle, Glasgow, Dundee, back to Glasgow, then back to Carlisle.Where they got missorted again.  This led to one or two more frantic calls to UPS and Viagogo where I was again assured all would be well.  UPS even called me to give me the sorting office number in their Carlisle depot and nice lady there assured me the post code and package were fine and would be with me in a few days time. I didn’t feel terribly reassured, but with not much else to do but wait, I crossed fingers and awaited the next update.

Courtesy of the tracking updates, I watched my tickets over the next few days travel back to Glasgow and then onto Dundee and thats where they stayed.

I couldn’t believe this. How hard can it be to get 3 tickets from London to Craigellachie?

The Drama…..

What happened next was very frustrating and ultimately pointless.  UPS advised the tickets were lost but they couldn’t deal with me as I was only the ticket owner, not the sender.  After multiple calls to Viagogo,  they initially said not to worry they would sort it out, plus,  I was covered under their warranty. Or was I? Next,  I received a mail from them saying sorry. Tickets lost. Probably your fault. Deal with it. Bye.  Well, what was the gist.  This led to even more heated phone calls to Viagogo, talking to some truly obnoxious and very unhelpful people. This only resulted in raised blood pressure and a total impasse.

The situation was simple. UPS told me Viagogo had to request a search and investigation into the lost tickets before they could trace them or initiate the compensation mechanism. Viagogo said they had done so and that UPS had concluded it was my fault for having an incorrect post code.  A few alternative stories came up along the way. In one conversation, where I pointed out that the post code error had been corrected weeks earlier and was well documented, I was told that this was not the case. I was advised that the original tickets had been lost and so replacement tickets were issued. If these new tickets were now also lost,  the terms of the warranty had already been satisfied, so tough.  I challenged this saying UPS had told me this was complete rubbish and got the response, “who you going to believe? Us or the people who lost your tickets?’ That was from “Frank” a very Dutch sounding gent and complete tosser.

I requested and received a letter from UPS stating categorically that Viagogo had not contacted them about my lost tickets and they were unable to proceed with any kind of search until they received the instruction.  But Viagogo still insisted they had completed an investigation and concluded it was all my fault. Yes, it was my fault.  For buying from them in the first place.

And the Resolution…….

In frustration, I  wrote a curt letter to Viagogo laying out the facts, the conflicting stories and telling  them exactly what I thought of them.  With no resolution in sight, I then took to Social Media. I went on the Viagogo Facebook site and commented on all of their event advertising, recommending people not to buy from these ‘rip off merchants’. On Instagram I published the conflicting mails I had received from UPS and Viagogo, suggesting that Viagogo were being less than honest.  I didn’t expect to achieve anything, but it made me feel better.

As it happens, in the meantime, I managed to get three more tickets. The seats weren’t as good, location wise, but at least we could still go to the match.  I also received a letter from Viagogo a few days after my Social media campaign saying they had reconsidered my case and they had decided I would get a full refund. I am pleased to say that whilst it took time, they did eventually refund the cost of the tickets.  A more generous person might have forgiven them after this, their reputation restored. Sadly, I am not that generous. All I can say is, it will be a cold day in hell before I use them again and would never recommend them to even my worst enemy. I had to fight for the refund and was lied to and misled throughout. UPS are not blameless. They did lose the tickets. But at least I felt I could trust what they were telling me and they were consistent in their story, unlike Viagogo.  So my top consumer tip. If you are desperate to see a show, or an event. Buy direct, go on Ebay but never ever use Viagogo.  If you do use them and have any issues, do not give up. Fight for compensation and if necessary, name and shame them.

The Grand Tour

At last it was the weekend of the big game. With our replacement tickets in hand we set off from Elgin Railway station to Edinburgh.  We had to change at Aberdeen, but had plenty of time and we were all looking forward to the journey.

Were got off to a good start.  Parking at the station was easy and the Aberdeen train was more or less on time. I had paid extra for 1st Class tickets, but there wasn’t a first class on this train. We didn’t care as it was only a short trip.   The train itself was earth coloured. This mainly because it was covered from top to bottom in mud. Seriously, you couldn’t tell where the windows were as it was all a uniform shade and thickness outside of the train. God knows how it got like that. Inside, you couldn’t see out of the windows, which was a bit pants. Still, we had raided the nearby Asda before boarding the train and were replete with sandwiches, drinks, magazines and chocolate. So all was good.

The refreshments were meant to last us all the way to Edinburgh. I think we had scoffed most of it by Kieth, which is the next station along.  I’ve always been the same on journeys.  As a student, I used to travel a lot by train, when I could afford it, or more usually by National Express Coaches where I couldn’t. The latter always seemed to leave early morning and take forever. Hence I would travel armed with an extensive packed lunch and enough snacks to keep me going during the long journey. Its surprising the number of times I had finished my lunch before we had even left the bus station.  Absolutely no will power.

Perils of Train Travel

At Aberdeen we left the train and started looking for the platform for our connection.  Couldn’t see our train on the board so wandered off to ask. Oh dear.  It was cancelled. We could, if we wanted, take the bus service to Dundee that had been laid on and connect there. Or we could wait a couple of hours and get the train that we would meet at Dundee anyway?  Seemed an odd choice. Turns out there is a first class lounge with hot and cold running coffee at Aberdeen station, so we opted to wait and polished off the remainder of our snacks, washed down by free Scotrail coffee.

The alternative train left on time. The first class section comprised exactly 9 seats partitioned off at the front of the train, but we did get a cup of something that passed for coffee. And a muffin.

It wasn’t exactly an express train service.  We seemed to stop every few minutes at places, most of which I had either never heard of or only heard in the Scottish football results.  Montrose, Arbroath, Carnoustie, Balmossie, Leuchars, Invergowrie, Perth. The list went on and on.

Eventually we pulled into Edinburgh Waverley around 10.00 o’clock at night. It was cold, dark and throwing  it down. The hotel was only a short walk away,  but it wasn’t a pleasant walk. We were all soaked, chilled and grumpy by the time we got the Radisson Blu. Too late to do anything apart from grab a nightcap at the bar and call it a day.

Match Day

Saturday was bright, fresh and sunny.  After a hearty breakfast, the girls went swimming in the hotel pool and I wandered out to see if I could find a paper. I couldn’t. At least not nearby, but I did find a Harry Potter themed shop, called the Boy Wizard.  I can’t resist this type of place. I had a good look around and came out with a Gryffindor  Scarf and a Hogwarts fleecy hoody for the Small girl. Oh and a wand, as I suspected Scotland may need some magic assistance later in the day.

Gratifyingly, Small liked her scarf and hoody and opted to wear them to the match. She finished her ensemble with a mini kilt and a T-shirt, but couldn’t be persuaded to wear a coat.  I suppose we should have forced her, but we were all in a good mood and didn’t want to cast a downer on the day, so we let it pass.

We had a gentle amble down to Princes Street and beyond, stopping in the gardens to take some photos and enjoy the Scott Monument.  By now it was beer o’clock so I needed a prematch beverage. Well its a tradition and I am very traditional.

Pub Grub Rules

There is no shortage of good pubs in Edinburgh and most of them were crowded with Welsh rugby fans. We found one to my liking with a good selection of real ales. Whilst the girls grabbed a table I went to the bar.  Pint of ale, glass of cider and an appletize please.  Who is the Appletize for ? My daughter. How old is she?  8.  Sorry can’t serve her, unless she has some food. Really?  OK. A bowl of ice cream please. Nope. Has to be proper food. Sounded like her mum.  Right, Fish and chips then, please. No problem. That will be 25 quid please.  What? This was going to be an expensive drink. It was the same in all the pubs. Three drinks and a main course please, That’ll be lots of money please, sucker.  It’s such a rip off.  But it’s also a tradition. Not the main course bit, just the pre-match drinkies, so what can you do.

By now, the sun had gone and it had started to sleet. Big cold rain drops mixed with chunks of ice. It was baltic. Of course Small without her coat was freezing. So we stopped to buy some gloves, wet weather gear and a blanket for inside the stadium. Murrayfield is renowned for being perishing at the best of times.    Fortified and warm, we carried on, pausing only for a toilet stop followed by coffee and cake.

Silly Hat Anyone?

Another tradition on match day is buying Wifey a silly hat for the game. It took a bit of  finding, but eventually we found a suitably outrageous tartan jesters cap.  Small was mortified, but felt better after receiving a Scotland flag she could wave in the game, as did wifey. So complete with all essentials we were carried along in the throng to the stadium.

It’s quite a sight, match day in Edinburgh. Hordes of people walking past the Haymarket. Most in stout shoes and Barbour jackets, but many in just their teams rugby shirt. The Scots in kilts and the welsh in body suits disguised as either leeks or daffodils. One bearded guy who must have been 6 foot 13″ tall had a daffodil head and a green body stocking for a  stem. He looked chilly.  I asked him if he was warm enough. Yes he replied, the only issue he had was a soggy bottom. Decided not to delve further and left him happily sauntering along.

Small had never seen so many people in the same place before but she was well up for it. It’s the atmosphere. The crowd exude good humour. There’s  none of the latent menace  you get at football matches, No segregation of fans. No aggression and no feeling of being threatened. Just a huge crowd of passionate and slightly pissed fans out to have a good time and hopefully, cheer their side to victory.   It’s great.

Scotland v Wales

Once inside the ground, we found  our seats easily enough. We were in the Upper West Stand in the corner, behind the Welsh posts. Not great seats, but not that bad either.  Small was still soaking up the atmosphere as the stadium built up to the anthems.  As ever with the Welsh,  ‘Land of My Fathers’  was belted out with great gusto. It does get the blood pumping, all those voices raised in harmony.

Next up, ‘Flower of Scotland’  Again, sang with gusto and quite brought a tear to the eye. I always find that it’s played a bit slow, almost dirge like, but it still stirs the blood. The crowd did the usual unaccompanied second verse. Not sure why the band always stops after the first verse. No way you are going to avoid  thousands of happy excited Scotsmen and women shouting out about rising up and being a Nation again,  sending Proud Edwards army homeward. And quite right too. It’s even worse when England are involved in the proceedings. Something to look forward to next year.

With the anthems out of the way, the game got under way.  Scotland drew first blood with a nicely taken  penalty. 3.0

Sadly, it all went a bit pear shaped after that. Wasn’t long before the Welsh ran in their first try, then another.  Scotland seemed unable to make any headway when they did have possession. Too many errors resulted in their giving the ball back to Wales. By half time it was  6 – 15 in favour of Wales and it was disappointing to see fans starting to leave the ground.

Half Time

I would love to know what was said in the Scotland dressing room at half time, as the team that came on for the second half was far removed from the team that went in trailing by 9 points. This was a new, purposeful Scotland. Finally the Scotland fans had something  to shout about.   A well worked try by Scotland that they failed to convert reduced the deficit to 4 points as we went into the final quarter of the game.

Scotland threw everything at the Welsh. Wave after wave of attack, but the Welsh defence was mighty. It was very enjoyable if bloody  frustrating to watch, especially if you were wearing blue. Inevitably, something had to give. A Scottish error and the final score of the game was by Wales. A penalty kick almost under the posts to give a final score of 11-18 to Wales and a real sense of an opportunity missed.

During the game the weather had warmed up slightly, so the blanket hadn’t been required. Small had however acquired a ‘bum’ cushion from a welsh supporter sitting in front of her. So she was happy. The guy next to her; a 5o something Scot who had obviously fully enjoyed the pre match warm up in the pub, had also taken a shine to her. This despite her telling him off.  As I said, it was a bit frustrating and quite tense, especially in the second half. Our new friend was shouting all kinds of encouragement and venting his frustration with some colourful language when it  went wrong.

So, Small had tapped him on the shoulder and suggested that perhaps that language wasn’t really appropriate next to a small person.  He just smiled, apologised and said how lovely she was. They happily chatted away throughout the game after that.  See, Rugby Crowds are a cut apart. I would never take her to a football match.  Tried that once with her elder siblings and was horrified to see a dad with two young kids, baring his bottom at the away team fans after his team scored.   Nope, I think I will be sticking with rugby.

Dinner

It took a while to get out of the ground and walk back to the hotel, surrounded as we were by thousands of happy Welshman and rueful Scots. We eventually made it back, pausing only to buy a bottle of 21 yr old Balvenie Portwood from a Whisky shop just off the Royal Mile.  My treat for home.

After a quick shower and change, we headed off for dinner at the Innes and Gunn Beer Kitchen.  It was very busy and very loud but quite enjoyable also.  I had wanted to try the place for ever, but my mistake was going on a rugby weekend. We had booked a table so no issues there, but it was so busy they were running out of beer.  Most of my Innes and Gunn favourites had all been quaffed. I tried a pint of the guest ale and it was good, but it also run out.  I was left to sample some interesting offerings from the Evil Twin brewery.  These were advertised as being strong and potent. And my god they were. At 11%ABV for something called Something to Talk about and 13%ABV for Molotov cocktail, they were more like wine than beers and I have to admit I didn’t really enjoy them.

It was a similar story with the food.  There were some yummy things on the menu, but most had ran out.  Wifey and I tried a selection of starters.  The Scotch egg, was very good, the Drunken prawns too. I was desperate to try the monkfish cheeks but they had finished,  so we had haggis balls instead and they were pleasantly tasty.  For mains, Small had a huge hotdog, whilst

Wifey and I both  went for steak, cooked to perfection.  I was too full for dessert, but the girls managed to force down some cheesecake and sticky toffy pudding.  I think we all enjoyed the restaurant. Service was good, a little slow perhaps, but given the crowds,  I wasn’t at all surprised.  It was really, really loud. Like, shout at the top of your lungs to be head by the person sitting next to you loud, but it was a great atmosphere.  I think I would go again but not on a rugby weekend. I suspect you will get a better feel for the place without a million rugby types all drinking themselves silly.

National Museum of Scotland

Next morning, after another hearty breakfast, we checked out of the hotel, dumped the luggage with the concierge and headed off to the nearby National Museum of Scotland.  It was a wet miserable day and the museum was free so what better way to pass a few hours. The deal was we would follow Small, letting her look at what she wanted and at her pace. This could have been a very quick visit, but she really enjoyed looking around.

We did pay to visit the Robotics Exhibition they were hosting and headed up there first.  It was fascinating. There were some scarily lifelike humanoid robots. An example of the Terminator T800 and lots more besides. We spent a good hour wandering around the exhibits. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Outside of the robotics, we went to the science and technology hall. Again much mooching about was had.

Small was really quite captivated, which was nice to see.  After the science bit we made it to the Natural History section. Fascinating.  You could easily lose a whole day in the museum and would need to, in order to do it justice. Sadly we had a train too catch so had to cut it short.

Outside it was sleet again, forcing a  quick trot to the hotel to collect the luggage then off to Waverly. The plan was to grab a light lunch at the train station and hopefully get dinner on the train.

Once again, our plans were dashed.  The pub in the train station didn’t do food on a weekend??? Surely that was one of the busiest times.  However, the nice barman did say he wouldn’t mind if we wanted to bring food in from outside. So I was dispatched to get a Burger King for Small and sandwiches from the M&S emporium next door for Wifey and I. It was 8 quid for chicken nuggets and chips at Burger King!!!! Plus service with a grimace, all performed at glacial speed. Fast food? I don’t think so. However, Small enjoyed them. The sandwiches were typical Marksies and quite nice, if pricey.  What was less palatable was the news that our next train had been cancelled, Oh for gawds sake.

Once again, we could take the proffered bus service to Dundee, or possibly from Dundee to Aberdeen. Something like that. But in either case we would arrive too late for our connection to Elgin.   If we wanted to wait another few hours we could get the Inverness service from London and come back down to Elgin.  At least, I thought, it wasn’t Scotrail, so it would likely have a proper dining  car and dinner service. So might be ok. We would get in quite late. After 10.00pm but not much we could do about that.

More Train Tribulations

And so it was, a few hours later we boarded the first class carriage of the LNER service from London to Inverness. Bags of room. Loads of seats and very clean. This is more like it I thought. Especially when I spotted the dinner menu on our table.  Beef Rendang. Roast Chicken. Lamb Shank. A selection of wines and beers.  Oh yes this will do very nicely.  Shortly after leaving Waverly, the conductor came around to punch our tickets and I asked him when was the dinner service. They will be around shortly sir, he said.  Oh goody.

Sure enough,  here came a couple of peeps pushing a trolly. Hmm, Perhaps you order with them.  Could I please have 2 Roast Chicken dinners and a Beef Rendang please. A bottle of Shiraz and a Fullers London Pride, thank you very much.

What? came the  less than reassuring response.

2 Roast chicken dinners, a beef rending and a bottle of shiraz if you please? Forget the beer if that’s a problem??

Where did you see this Sir??

On your dinner menu, here, I said, proffering said menu.

Oh sorry sir, this is the weekday menu. We only have sandwiches on a weekend.

Ah! OK three roast chicken sandwiches please.

Sorry sir, all gone.

Right, erm, Roast beef?

Nope,

Prawn?

No sir, sorry.

Let’s make this simple.  What have you got?

Egg and tomato or cheese.

Not my Sunday Dinner of choice, but we did get a free slice of fruit cake so I wasn’t all bad.

We got into Inverness eventually.  Picked up the connection and arrived in Elgin. Wifey did point out that had we been driving, we could have stayed in the museum longer, had a proper lunch and still have gotten home several hours earlier.  Couldn’t argue with that.  So we have vowed never to travel by train again. At least in the UK.  It was at best a bit disappointing. At worst it was diabolically bad.  So for my next top consumer tip, if you are thinking of travelling by train in Scotland, don’t. Buy a car instead.

Whisky

Several nights later, in the pub, I discovered a new favourite whisky. I say I discovered. My local hostelry, the wonderful Highlander Inn had run out of Balvenie 15yr old Sherry finish, the 21yr old port wood and the GlenDronach 18yr old. So, I asked for a recommendation.  Billy, my genial host suggested a Glenfarclas 21. Not as heavily sherried as my usual choices but he thought I might like it.  I gave it a try and it was wonderful. So smooth and with a very pleasant finish. This is a nicely refined whisky with no ragged edges to burn your throat. I dashed out the very next day and bought a bottle and I recommend you do the same.

Our whisky collection at home is definitely growing as my tastes are expanding.  I am still very much into Balvenie, I like their sweeter, more sherried style.  But I am trying different distilleries.  We even picked up a set or two of the Game of Thrones Whisky edition by Diagio. There are 8 bottles in a set, each bottle from a different distillery and the 8 complimented by an additional bottle. The Johnny Walker, White Walker Edition. It’s a great marketing ploy by Diagio.  It certainly worked on us.  Its a limited edition release and the hope is, in a few years time or even many years time, the complete set may be worth a few bob more than we paid for it. Assuming anyone rememberers Game of Thrones.  So I haven’t to drink these bottles, they are keepers. Just in case.

And I think that’s about enough for this week.  Next time I hope to explore our first fishing on the Spey of 2019 and our road trip in the Aston up the east coast of Scotland.

Buy for now,

Graham Thewannabescot.