Gourock, finally

For two years we have tried to put some sort of competition season together; single grade, locked venues or God help us Zoom but the gregarious nature of the participants and the pandemic’s not caring about good intentions closed every avenue. I was looking forward to the Gourock games but I had no idea how much.

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Band of Sisters

Pipe banding is a manly pursuit; huge beardy blokes with scarlet faces and an ability to inflate hot water bottles while gargling whisky. So why are there so many wee lassies standing opposite me in the circle?

It’s the same in the drum corps. Women and girls and a few old relics. We could competently field an all female band although the thought of James the Hat in lipstick and fake boobs makes me shudder.

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If there is one thing that is known to people who know things it’s that August goes; Brodick, Worlds, Rothesay, Cowal. Other competitions are available, we went to Bridge of Allan once but that’s another story. Under normal circumstance we’d have stood in the hissing rain in a damp kilt and wet shoes while Pipey set the tempo and I glanced longingly at the Rothesay beer tent just over the barrier through the puddles and up the greasy hill.

Continue reading August NOVERSEAS