Plague of Flies
In my late teens I used to go to a football match every week. Away games were great with each town having some sort of attraction. Edinburgh speaks for itself. Kilmarnock was a nice little place to visit and St Johnstone, who played in Perth had the best bridies in the land. A bridie is the Scottish equivalent of a Cornish pastie. Motherwell, I’m afraid had absolutely nothing going for it !
And then there were the so-called 'European' games, Leeds and Newcastle. Usually we went to these away games on a supporters bus but frequently they were full and the regulars at the pub had first refusal so being 17 and not being a regular at the pub I had to cadge a lift in someone's car.
For the Newcastle game, my cousin
We were making good progress and although it was freezing outside, the windows were up and the heater was on full blast making everybody reasonably comfortable. I was sitting in the back trying to keep
A few minutes later I realised that I wasn’t going to get to sleep as this buzzing was inside the car. I needed to find it, although in retrospect, had it been a noise from the engine there wouldn’t have been anything I could have done. Anyway, I looked around the parcel shelf to see if I could locate the source of the noise and spotted a large can in the far corner. I picked up the can and realised the buzzing was coming from inside it. Intrigued, I started to open the lid when I heard
Too late. I unscrewed the lid a couple of turns and the top literally shot off and a plague of bluebottles erupted from the can. Thousands and thousands of them. The two guys who were sleeping were wakened by the screams and
‘Oh’, he said, ‘I wondered where that can of maggots from last week's fishing trip had gone. They must’ve turned (into flies)’.