Tomorrow is Saturday, the wackiest race day of the week as people change over in Skyes many and fantastic holiday cottages. Hire cars will appear on the island crammed to the roof with stuff with passengers squeezed into whatever space is left. All of those on board will be staring at the sat-nav stuck to the screen instead of the road. Oblivious to the fact that the post code they have entered covers a vast swathe of the island and will direct them to a spot nowhere near their hoped for destination. Luckily for them I shall be walking the Assistants as they pass by, first one way then the other. They shall repeat this 5 or six times before the passenger will demand the driver stops to ask the man with the well behaved dogs who has nicely got out of the way so many times where they should be. In the past this would have been difficult because I might not have been wearing glasses and when the lost souls thrust their booking details print off out of the window I had no idea what it said. Now I have a contact monocle and can read the tiny fonted print-out and confidently tell them they are in the wrong village and other than that I have no idea where their cottage is...
Posted on: Fri, 08 Aug 2014 17:34:19 +0000