FITTIE AND FITBA IN ABERDEEN

I am so woke (if not actually awake) I’m able to give obscure Aberdeenshire villages their preferred names; the same applies to our national sport. Not content with my first Highland League fixture, I made Sunday the designated “Watch Scottish football on TV in a pub” day. Where better than famed Belhaven boozer Ma Cameron’s… Continue reading FITTIE AND FITBA IN ABERDEEN

SCRATCHING THE AITCHIE’S ITCH

Back in Aberdeen, via the hospital and every possible bus stop in the western suburbs, I pondered three things over flat whites in the Archibald Simpson. a) I would never have another beer, ever. b) It was my own fault. c) I couldn’t just sit in Wetherspoons nursing a coffee for five hours till Mrs… Continue reading SCRATCHING THE AITCHIE’S ITCH