Jon In England: Noo I've heard men complain of the jobs they are dain...

When they're hawking the coal, or diggin the drain.

But whatever they are, there is none that compare

Wi manyura, manyura, manyura manyah!

The streets of the toon were all kivvered aroon

Wi' stuff that was colourful, gowden and broon,

It was put there, of course, by a big Clydesdale horse!

And they called it manyura, manyura manyah!

I followed its track wi a shovel and sack,

And as often as no wi a pain in me back.

It was all for the rent, and the beautiful scent

Of manyura, manyura, manyura manyah!

But I'm feelin fu sore for my job's taken o'er

And everything noo is mechanical power

And theres naething for me but the sweet memory

Of manyura, manyura, manyura manyah!

¬Matt McGinn

7/9/10

Within twenty minutes one of those forewarned rocks had jutted out just enough into the road and with such subtlety that will ran it over without seeing it, though Latha saw it there wasn't enough time to react. I was in the backseat and couldn't see anything but I heard that unmistakable, POP! So we pull into the first place we see ("the world famous Drover's Inn) and it turns out our front left tire was as flat as a pancake. We go to change the tire, pop the trunk, and sure enough like some Hitchcock film (or perhaps it was more like Harold and Kumar) the spare tire is nowhere to be found. We call the Scottish equivalent of the AAA (provided by the rental car company) and they tell us that, they can have a guy out here in two hours. He won't be able to fix it tonight, but he'll be able to tow us to our final destination (Ben Nevis hotel (named after the tallest mountain in the UK) in Fort Williams).where the car can be fixed in the morning. All the while, I am off in the distance taking pictures of the gorgeous gorges of the Scottish Highlands which I am able to finally capture now that we have stopped.

As I came back from taking pictures i notice a group of Scottish men wearing traditional clothes (kilts and such). So we go in and discover a 300 year old cottage/pub/hotel from 1705. This place is as authentic as it gets (best I can tell). There is sawdust on the floor, people are here with there dogs, all the furniture is made of faded wood, the walls are a patchwork of different stones, the place is heated by fireplace, lit by candles in old jars of scotch and a folk band is playing tonight.

SERIOUSLY IF YOU ARE EVER GO TO SCOTLAND TRY TO MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE DROVER'S INN.

I cozy up to a pint of McEwans, a creamy Scottish ale that reminds me of an Irish carbomb (and just might be my favorite beer of the trip). For dinner I had Haggis (sheep's heart, liver, and lungs minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally simmered in the animal's stomach for approximately three hours) with Neeps (mashed turnips) and Tatties (mashed potatoes) on the side. It was absolutely delicious. So much better than I expected and its ingredients would suggest, I encourage you all to try it next chance you get. The neeps and tatties were simply delicious as well. So after dinner with nothing but time to kill and a tow-truck as our designated driver we began to sample some of this nation's eponymous spirit, scotch. First we tried Knockando a single malt scotch whiskey aged 12 years, oh yeah.

The band began to play and it was just great folk music (but to be honest listening to anything would've been perfect just then). Check out Whiterose if you can. Next we tried Tobermory a single malt scotch whiskey aged ten years from the Isle of Mull. Delicious. Made even better by Whiterose playing in the background. They sang folk songs about Caledonia, Andy McCloud (some soccer player), House of Mcdonald, Ballad of the Highlandman and more. Really good stuff. Everyone is stomping their feet, clapping their hands, the dogs are barking, really a site to be seen.

It was around that time that our tow truck arrived. Fortunately, he let us go in and enjoy the show a little longer while he readied the car for towing (he was a superb driver I don't know how he managed to maneuver those roads while sharing stories of the Glasgow-Edinburgh rivalry)Inside we had our last scotch of the evening-Laphroaig, a single malt scotch whiskey aged ten years from the isle of Islay which is famous for the high levels of peet they use in the distilling process which gives their scotch a very smokey flavor (a little too smokey if you ask me). By the way, scotch is so cheap here. I estimate this would cost up to 6 times as much back home. By 10:33 we begrudgingly left the Drover's Inn and ride off into the orange-purple-highland-sunset in a tow truck the size of a tank, admiring every inch of the way.

Final note about the car: No need to worry, Will and Latha had the foresight to purchase the window and tire insurance. All was good.