12th August


We’d been tae Switzerland an’ France,
We’d watched the gay Majorcans dance,
But nane o’ us, by some mischance
Had been tae Skye,
A fau’t we thocht this year, perchance,
We’d rectify.

Jessie, Betty, Phae and Bet,
(We had na got oor “by names” yet)
Talked an’ planned. A date was set
A time was said.
The nicht afore, few hours I’ll bet
Were spent in bed.

The Glorious Twelfth! It was indeed,
6:30 saw us ower Path heid.
We hurried on an’ maid guid speed
Through Glesca’s streets.
Loch Lomond saw us in the need
O’ coffee an’ eats.

The foldin’ table was brocht oot’
Frae deep within the roomy boot,
Plus a’ the graith, ha’e nae doot,
Fur makin’ tea –
A process often cairrit oot
Wi’ muckle glee.


Then on we press fur Onich bent,
Tae seek fur beds wis oor intent,
Tae ae door Phae an’ Betty went-
It’ll mak ye grin –
Twa single beds wis whit she meant
Tae pit fower in!

Fort William was oor howf that nicht,
An’ Lochiel Villa was just richt.
Sune fed an’ watered, we dowsed the licht
An’ slept gey sune.
Oor landlady must ha’e gotten a fricht.
When she lookit in.