Schottland 1974, Teil 4 … Scotland 1974, Part 4

Ihr findet die alte deutsche Version hier (Teil 3 und 4 in einem).

Cambuslang – Loch Long – Cambuslang

[I always thought that Cambuslang was a suburb of Glasgow (sorry, Cambuslangers!), but that does not seem to be the case. It is a town in its own right, a town without townhall though, or a very large village, as the Wikipedia mentions … 😉 😀 ]

July 7, 1974 (Sunday)

The next day we want to take a closer look at Glasgow and, above all, buy books. Margaret’s neighbours Julie and Hughie, who invited us to a party in the evening, take us into town in their car. In Glasgow there is a huge covered flea market called ’The barrels’ that is open every day. We really want to go there. Otherwise we walk around more aimlessly but, in my opinion, get a pretty good picture of Glasgow.

(As you can see, I remembered the name incorrectly, the market is not called ‚The Barrels‘, but ‚The Barras‘.)
I think that this photo is from the „Visit Scotland“ website.

Back in Cambuslang we are greeted with cheers because Germany has just won the World Cup in football. ** We also have the opportunity to watch Margaret cutting hair. She didn’t learn that, but she manages to make a totally professional cut. The young man is delighted.

During our after dinner digestive walk we suddenly hear pipes and drums from somewhere. We follow the sound and come to a kind of Greek theater in miniature, where a small group of young people in tartan play music. The acoustics are excellent. „They must be students,“ says Margaret, „if they were soldiers, they would have shorter hair.“ – Some things are the same everywhere.

The evening is approaching, and with it the party and the worries about what to wear. After all, we only own jeans and t-shirts. We are not prepared for a ball. Margaret says it doesn’t matter and that everyone will understand. She lends me a very cleverly cut brown and white T-shirt from her own inventory.

When we arrive, Julie is already drunk. Besides the three of us there are Eddie, two unknown couples and Willy with his wife. We met Willy the evening before. He is at least 1.90 m tall, red-haired or better red-maned and totally tattooed on both arms. One of the pictures in his exhibition reads: “Marriage? – Never more! ” – Does he mean that he wants to stay true to his first love or that his marriage to the pretty black-haired Carol is not very happy? After all, they have a child together. That evening, however, they give each other various slaps in the face. Deary me! According to Margaret, Willy is a guy who works six months and then takes six months off. He and Carol have split up before, but moved back in together because of the child. From him we hear the first gælic sentence, or is it? Maybe it is only gælified English. In any case, he says: I’ll gang haeme noo! 😉

Hughie is continuously scuffing sandwiches with the battle cry „Feed the bear“. While dancing he lifts me up with a crazy cry, but he doesn’t even look at me and I have to think of an animal’s cry for help.

Julie pours more and more alcohol into herself, the others too, and I’m completely sober. A recent hepatitis forced me to abstain for a year. So I feast on delicious orange juice in the kitchen while Julie looks over my shoulder with a stupid giggle and asks: „Does that make you feel sexy?“ – Hughie has fallen asleep in his armchair by now, and Eddie confides to me that Julie makes him drunk on purpose, because then he falls asleep and she can get approach the other women’s husbands all the better. Margaret refers to her as ’flout’, a person who wants to get other people’s attention. Later I am told that this term is more than polite, that women like this are more likely to be called ‚cow‘. Julie would have loved to jump into bed with both men, only the wives disturb. These are very nice to look at and I don’t understand how their men can choose the unattractive, skinny Julie over their own women, even if it’s just for one round. I understand even less, why the wives seem to sympathize with Julie and sit down next to her and try to calm her down. [In my youthful righteousness I didn’t recognize true kindness.] „I am so hot tonight!“ she moans. My goodness, Sodom and Gomorrah, where did I end up here at the tender age of 19?

My best friend and I are fed up and say goodbye. Julie is currently crouching at the sideboard and wants to pull herself up at the tablecloth that is covering it. She tears everything down, records, glasses, everything lands on the floor and she half dies of laughter about it.

July 8, 1974 (Monday)

We all want to spend the last day together in a peaceful atmosphere. Margaret, the children and we are taking a bus tour through the Trossachs. We drive the route along Loch Kathrine to Loch Lomond, which I already know, but then turn left towards Campbeltown („Campbeltown Loch, I wish you were whisky …“ [by the way, Campbeltown Loch is a bay/short fjord with connection to the Firth of Clyde, and not a lake, ahem … The link leads to a YouTube video, in which Andy Stewart relates the story behind the song, and then he sings the song itself.]).

Campbeltown and the loch, photo:

We visit a ’Weaver’s Shop’, where we get a real impression of the variety of tartan patterns for the first time. Clan-labeled ties hang on the walls and I try to memorize as many as possible. Unfortunately, some of them are so similar that I would only recognize a maximum of ten patterns at once. [Now only five.]

Of course you are welcome to buy something!

At Loch Long we (the whole tour group) have ’High Tea’, a Scottish evening meal. This includes a warm platter, fried eggs or fish with French fries or baked beans and various small cakes. In addition, white bread and jam are served. You can also drink as much tea as you want. My friend and I are paying for this because Margaret did not allow herself to be dissuaded from inviting us to the bus tour. When we go out we take three pieces of ginger cake for Janet and various bread sticks for Heather along from the next table.

It is 48 miles from Cambuslang to Loch Long. Short before Balloch, one passes through Alexandria, where Patrick worked, my Celtic beau. That is a drive to work of about 30 miles in each direction, not very close to home, I’d say.

In the evening we go to the pub for the last time to say goodbye. A friend of Pat assures me that if I leave now, it will break his heart. „C’est vrai,“ says Pat. He is a pretty boy, tall and slim with these charming Celtic colors, black hair and dark blue eyes, just like Heather and Willy’s wife Carol (and Donovan [Sir Donovan Leitch now] …). Tom and Pat take us home, and the touching farewell scene then takes place in the back yard. When we finally want to go inside, I can’t open the apartment door with the key, so Eddie, who fell through the door some time before (because drunk), has to get into his pants again to let us in. „That was a nice, peaceful day,“ says Margaret.

(To be continued)

** During all those years I haven’t noticed that this is my checkpoint for the dateline! The 7th July 1974 was the day, when Germany won the Worldcup, and it was a Sunday, I checked that too now. So all my reasoning and calculating of dates and week days in part 1 is herewith supported and found correct. 😉 🙂