I suppose like most things which happen in life a simple word or name can trigger a chain of events which seem almost impossible to comprehend.
This was the case when a simple mention of Robbie Burns made me realise that I hadn't eaten Haggis for 5 years. And just like a Glasgow teenager who hasn't had a bottle of Buckfast for a while the craving for Haggis grew stronger and stronger with every hour that passed.
So what could be done about this dreadful situation? The answer of course was Google.
Now since I live in Norway I knew it wouldn't be simple to obtain a Haggis. Firstly import of wildlife is seriously restricted, with the exception of Shetlanders which seem to be allowed. Secondly importing of meat is impossible, so that ruled out getting somebody in Scotland to bump one off and bung it in the mail... Actually, since I've just mentioned 'bumping off' (slang for killing), I'd better explain a bit more about what a Haggis is, and how to catch and kill it, purely for the benefit of folk who don't know what the beast is.
The Haggis (Latin name: Haggis Haggis) is a small creature which is indigenous to the upland regions of Scotland. Because of the hilly nature of it's habitat and the fact that it will only run anti-clockwise around the hills, it has undergone a rather unusual evolutionary change to its undercarriage over time. Its left legs have become shorter than the right ones in order to help it remain upright, and although this must have been helpful in the days when Scotland had predators like wolves, it has become a problem since man realised how tasty this little creature is.
Man being a more logical predator than the wolf quickly figured out that to easily catch a Haggis all he had to do was place an obstruction in the beasts path which forced it to turn round. It then went off balance because its legs are no use going clockwise around hills, tumbled to the bottom of the hill, and could be easily captured before it regained its composure.
Over the years many obstructions have been used to reverse the path of the Haggis. Including stone walls, fences, Hadrian's Wall, and the latest one,,,, Wind Turbines. The latter has proved to be useless as an aid to capturing Haggis, which is a pity since there are so many windmills about and it had been hoped they could be of some use for something..
Now that the beast has been captured we come to the grizzly business of dispatching it from it's earthly existence. Perhaps if you're squeamish you should skip to the next paragraph before I tell how it is done. In the past there were many methods used including knife, bullet, humane killer, and sedative overdose. But all these methods had to stop due to animal rights concerns, and another method was quickly found. It is the most evil form of death ever invented.. The poor beasts are forced to watch TV repeats of Big Brother.. It is a quick death though, usually only taking a few seconds.
But, back to my desire for Haggis. I eventually found a site which could send this delicacy to me in a manner which was permitted by Norskie import regulations.. The beast had to be hermetically sealed in a metal container. So now that I knew it was possible, all that was left was which size of Haggis to order, and this was decided by the shipping costs.. £42 to ship a 1 Kg baby Haggis, £38 to ship a spotty teenage 3Kg Haggis, or £42 to ship a fully grown and haired over 10Kg specimen. So that was that decision made, although I'm still trying to figure out why 5Kg was cheaper than 1Kg.
As is always the case with me, at this point I thought that it was best to assign a name to this poor creature, rather than call it 'IT', so thus the good old Scottish name of Hamish was given to this poor little armour clad highland animal which was soon to be travelling to Norway.
Now I've traveled to Norway with Flybe, and SAS. Both of which are fairly competent carriers which tend to fly in straight lines,, point A to point B,, but poor little Hamish was to be entrusted to the care of DHL,, (Which means something like 'Don't Hope Long'),, and their idea of a direct route is from point A to point B, via points C, D, E, F,,etc..
And so his journey began, and to date it goes something like this, according to the DHL tracking system:
23rd January 15.48 : Stuffed in cans and shipped from Edinburgh
23rd January 16.56 : Processed at Edinburgh (Guess that was painful)
23rd January 19.35 : Departed Edinburgh facility (And let's face it departing Edinburgh is GOOD)
24th January 03.42 : Arrived at sort facility Gatwick
24th January 05.23 : Clearance processing complete at Gatwick (I wonder if he had to suffer a full cavity search?)
24th January 08.01 : Departed Gatwick (What a relief,,, that's no place for man nor beast)
25th January 01.43 : Processed at Brussels,, Belguim...
At this point I started to feel really sorry for this poor little traveller. After all he was heading for Norway but getting further away all the time.
25th January 03.01 : Departed Brussels (Happy, but wondering where to hell he would land up next.)
26th January 05.15 : Oslo. Yup that's in Norway, or at least it pretends to be...
But???
Where to hell was the poor little fellow during that 26 hour period between Brussels and Oslo?
This question, and many others, may well be answered when he eventually arrives in Vestnes.
To be continued.......
Looking east past Bakknesset (guess I spelled that wrong).
Occasionally I allow the crew to use a camera, hence this image of me.
But he only got to take one shot. I got this one of him with a little fish.
And then this image of the relaxed fisherman after he had gutted about 80 Sillocks (Småsei i Norsk) (Small Coalfish in English)..
And, yes, he got sunburned. ;)
Weather permitting we're heading out sometime in the next couple of days for a small road trip since my youngest daughter is here on holiday. I think we'll head up through Kristiansund, then on to Trondheim. A likely detour from there will be a stop in Hell (Google search for 'Hell, Norway'). Then maybe down to Røros and Tynsett, before heading over into Sweden for a chance to drive on some decent roads.
