My friend Angus recalls a seasonal job for a national chain of coach tour operators in the seventies. One August weekend the bus he was driving broke down in a remote glen. In those pre-mobile days he had a long walk through a torrential West Highland summer downpour till finally coming to a house with a phone, not the first house he came to. After accepting a cup of tea…and a scone, he finally called the nearest garage- ten miles away. Explaining that he had fifty tourists desperate to get back to Edinburgh the canny mechanic’s opening gambit was “Well, I’m a wee bitty busy taking in the peats at the moment, would Wednesday suit you?”
Robin A Crawford 