Travel on.

31/07/05
A grey miserable day was brightened up by Toast verbalising the writing on Tomato’s back pack “Travelon 2000”. Why I found this so hilarious I do not know. I was still finding it amusing over 12 hours later.
I may be wrong but I’m sure the Travelon 2000 came into his possession after being spotted abandoned at the side of the road. He made his poor daughter turn her car round and go back for it. I’m sure Tomato will add a comment to this blog clearing up the situation. There was definitely a back pack found at the side of the road near a roundabout but it may not have been this one.

Toast started a conversation, about what I cannot remember but more than likely something controversial. He was met with silence. The silence unnerved him and he chattered on still receiving no response what so ever. I was desperately trying to find something to say when Tomato piped up “it’s a little early to be talking about (whatever it was)”.
I overtook a car on the way up the Black Isle hill. This seemed to enrage the driver as he was hot on my tail all the way to Inverness, finally pulling a Michael Schumacher type manoeuvre at the Halford’s roundabout to pass me. At the next roundabout he veered off towards the harbour/Black Bridge area and I could continue my journey peacefully. At the boot the mad driver veered into the car park minutes after we arrived. Hurrah! I won the race.
The car boot was dismal. Tomato thought it was something to do with the trade fortnight. I thought this unlikely, how many tradesmen are peddling their services at car boots? None! I bought a Fugees cd (Toast loves it when the Fugees say “one time, two time”) and a Rock n Roller Disco record. Asking the vendor how much the record was I received the reply “oh er um err umm *scratches head* umm err um oh………….em £1” as I was walking away they nervously, quietly and pointlessly said “singles are 20p”. These people should pass some sort of test before being unleashed on the public. Toast seemed to be highly impressed with the Rock n Roller Disco album (Ronco), I should have sold it to him for a vast profit.
I found a small incident amusing. A chap was standing at a table looking through a box of records. Unseen to him a friend appeared and stood right on his shoulder.

Friend: (Standing really close and humming) Hmmmm HmmmmHmmm hummm hummmm!
Guy looking at records: (no response, not even a flicker)
Friend: (Fake laughing) hee heeee heee heee!
Guy looking at records: (Still no response)
Pause for an uncomfortable length of time
Friend: (In a really bizarre nasal voice) Johnny Cash!
Guy looking at records: (No response)

On the way to Tesco Toast admitted that he had been rummaging about in the Travelon 2000. I didn’t quite catch what was going on but I think he covets the backpack. I know I certainly do. http://traveloasis.com/travelon.html

Tesco was very quiet and I confidently predicted no queue at the café. Little did I realise that the main shop was quiet because every single customer was in the breakfast queue. Myself and Toast lined up in the queue being quietly angered by the idiots standing in front of us. I was served by a young chap who thought himself to be a bit of a James Dean. He wore his regulation issue baseball cap and polo shirt in a rebellious sort of way (cap at jaunty angle, shirt collar up). Rebel Without a Chef. The cap and shirt both looked very faded and too small, he reminded me of a 1950s baseball player. He placed the most fossilised bit of fried bread on to my plate, I had to ask him to remove it and give me a better bit. You could feel his teenage anger rising. In the queue for the till, the woman behind me said very quietly and nervously “….are you…uuungh?” the “uuungh” was an exasperated sigh. I turned to ask what she was saying but she had taken off to a freshly opened till. I hope she choked on her breakfast, the ugly cow.
Once again there was a kafuffle with the items, Toast received 7 instead of 8. He didn’t get any fried bread. It was probably a good thing as mine was saturated in fat. Fat which tasted oddly like gloss paint. Although my companions didn’t say so I get the feeling they thought this to be a bizarre observation. My fried egg didn’t have a runny yoke so I couldn’t dip my sausage in it.
I did a small shopping. The lady at the till charged me twice for a pack of cooked ham. I discovered this too late and had to go to the customer services desk to join a long slow queue of quietly simmering people. While having my monies returned I took the initiative and asked about how to go about lodging a complaint about the café. The lady advised me to hand a letter in to the customer services counter and they would pass it on. Will we be brave enough to complain? Stay tuned…..probably not.After the breakfast I re-discovered that shopping in Inverness is rubbish. All I wanted was a pair of boot-fit jeans 34/long and size 9 slippers. It seems like such a simple request but proved to be an impossible order to fulfil. Things were so bad that we ended up in Matalan(s) to get the elusive items. I poopoo-ed their odd style of jeans (curvy fit?) and turned my nose up at the Zantos brand.