Near Got Run Ore, By Wingnut & The Hag

[Canada Bob]

Ever wonder why things happen to you ? Well, I'm beginning to, forget the flat tire on Sunday, things are getting odder by the day...

While Pauline was doing a bit of washing today, I decided I'd walk down to the local pub {the Half Way House} on the Antrim coast road...

It's still a bit storm here, no snow, we missed out on that, but the wind is almost enough to blow you off yer feet, thankfully at 190lbs there's not much chance of that, so I manages to make it to the pub, battered by the wind and splashed by the sea spray, but there in one piece, only to find the place is empty, sigh.

I had a couple of pints of Guinness {waiting for the locals to turn up, but no one did} so I decided to head back the couple of miles or so to the Ballygally apartments. I'd got no more than arf a mile when two motor bike cops zoom right in on me, I'm wondering if me bright orange jacket {which some of you'll know} has caught their attention.

Anyway, the wind is still almost gale force, I have me hood up, they have their crash helmets on, throw into that mix the only thing I can pick out is a thick Ulster accent, so I've nae idea what they are saying to me. Next thing is, one of them takes off his crash helmet and asks me for my ID ! as he's going through me wallet the other one is frisking me down. I'm wondering what the hell is that all about, {wondering if someone has shopped me for oyster napping}.

Luckily my wallet seemed to suffice, maybe the Canadian driving licence, and so on helped, but by this time they've walked me off the road, did I mention there was no footpath}, so there we all are, stood on the shoreline while I'm being investigated, I was starting to feel like "The Jackal" or at least Eli Dingle for a moment.

Not wanting to get on the wrong side of these two coppers I just lets them go through me wallet, and answers {best I can} as to who I am, and why I'm there when no one else is around. Finally they seem satisfied and things calm down a bit, at this point I ask them why they pulled me over, to be told... "Prince Charles and Camilla will be coming down this road in 15-20 minutes"...

Being of no interest to me, I askes if it's OK for me to carry on then, but they wouldn't let me, I had to stay there with one of the coppers, whilst the other one "reported me, description of me orange jacket and all, to MI5 or whoever, and then he went on hs way, leaving me there with his mate. I decided to phone Pauline {you know what women are like about Royalty}, if I'd hadn't have told her and she'd have missed "Charles & Camilla" I'd never have heard the last of it. So before you know it she's off down to road camera in hand to get a photo of them, but the cop won't let me carry on for whatever reason he had in his head, that may have been due to the narrow road and now footpath, whatever it was he kept me there.

It don't take a lot of imagination to figure out the effect that a couple of pints of Guinness and a bone chilling wind might have on a 61 year old, but it's a delicate topic to bring up to motor cycle cop on Royal Duty {as he called it}, anyway, to my relief {sort of} just a mile away we can see the flashing blue lights of the convoy, first of all a 1/4 mile ahead of them are more out riders, about six more coppers on motor bikes, then a big dark blue Range Rover, then the car {bullet proof no doubt} car with Prince Wing Nut and that Hag Camilla, can you believe they actually waved at me, I was so close to giving them my own salute, but I didn't dare, what with the copper right alongside of me. Soon as they'd passed though without another word, the copper roars off, and that was the last I saw of 'em as they diasppeared down the road.

Odd how you get days like this aint it, a few things flashed through my mind as I walked the rest of the way back "home", first and foremost being, "where are the IRA when you need 'em" or a Henry Paul look alike, have you any idea what my photo's would have been worth to CNN, but the events turning out as they did I didn't even take me camera out of me pocket, you may read between the lines that I'm no Royalist. I've no time for folks who tell us we are Hero's when we're in the trenches fighting for King and Country, then when the dust settles they quickly revert to calling us Commoners.

None the less, it made for another odd day on our travels...

Bob.

Edited February 3, 2009 by Canada Bob