Some people were released from work duties nearly a fortnight ago, and they have been partying since then. I never thought I would say this, but it’s a bit much.
Have all these holidaying folk suddenly become religious and determined to celebrate the birth of Mary’s wee boy child, laying in his swaddling fabrics in that stable in Bethlehem? Or are they just victims of consumerism, which is destroying the very fabric of our society?
As a victim of excessive eating, I headed for them outdoors. I didn’t trek across the Barvas Moor or climb the Clisham to get air in my lungs, opting instead for a stroll around Stornoway Harbour.
There is nothing like spending a New Year’s Day walking past the posh yachts and then the fishing boats while gulping in that bracing aroma of expensive perfumes and smoked salmon, followed by diesel fumes and rotten fish. Aaaah.
Sadly, there aren’t as many bollards to take a pew on as there once were. There are benches, but you felt like you were part of the harbour when you could plant yourself on what held the boats to the pier.
There used to be big hollow ones, usually painted silver. These would take several bums at a time. There are still the smaller, double-flighted ones that the mooring ropes are tied to. Obviously, bigger ones are fitted to the pier for the larger vessels that come in to port, like CalMac ferries when they are sailing.
Once you start studying all about bollards, you can become absolutely intrigued by their types and functions. The safety of vessels can absolutely depend on these small, low-technology lumps of metal.
There are many different kinds of harbour bollards. Single-bitt, double-bitt, cleats, tees, horns, pillars, and flat-top kidney types. You can kneel beside pillar-types and kidney-types and eat your fish supper off them.
I remember, one summer evening many years ago, seeing a family putting a tablecloth on the big one at Lazy Corner in the inner harbour in Stornoway. They then tucked into their sausages and chips with extra pickled onions on the side. That’s how important that particular bollard was to them.
Some ports put Christmas jumpers on their bollards. Not to bore you, but I could go on about these often-neglected maritime essentials for hours.
BBC Alba started the new year off right
I could also go on about the Hogmanay show on BBC Alba. This weekend’s was the best ever. Don’t you agree?
Most people from north of Dalwhinnie will have watched at least five minutes of it between switching to BBC One and the films on Channels Four and Five. If you didn’t watch it, you lost out.
The mix of newer music and the old traditional foot-tappers was spot on. There were too many to mention, but Skyeman Darren Maclean again did what he does best, belting out the classics like O Horo Mo Chailinn Donn and Obhan’s na h-Obhan O.
That was absolutely perfect for Hogmanay. Tears dripped into my Johnnie Walker Red Label, currently available in a certain supermarket with £8 off with their loyalty card.
Mischa MacPherson was incredible and showed why she’s in another class. The bands were all phenomenal. The Glenfinnan Ceilidh Band can do anything masterfully. Robert Robertson with Tide Lines was moving in a way that even the Red Label couldn’t achieve.
A special mention for entertainment value must go to the quartet from choir Binneas and their unique treatment of Jim Reeves’s gospel song This World Is Not My Home. Although many others have done Cha Dachaigh Dhomh an Saoghal, no one has done it like that. Led by the former teacher and Barra fellow John Joe Macneil, it was amazing. He and the guys did it in Deep South gospel style.
Barra Joe was just as exuberant while conducting his fellow choristers in Binneas in Sin Mar A Tha, Mar A Bha Is Mar A Bhitheas, or That’s How It Is, Always Was, And Always Will Be. Stirring stuff. That should be a Gaelic anthem, no question.
The big question is: what is that all about? The SpeakGaelic presenters on TV say it’s a key phrase. Similar to “c’est la vie” and “que sera, sera”, it’s just resigned acceptance of life’s ups and downs.
Like my life right now. I was looking forward to a night out tonight with Mrs X and some of her friends. Party on, dudes. Now she has just put the kibosh on that by telling me that I’m going to have a very dry night indeed.
She said: “It’s like this. We have decided that you are our designated driver. That way we will be sure that you do not spend the entire night talking bollards.”
Iain Maciver is a former broadcaster and news reporter from the Outer Hebrides
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