Saturday, September 24, 2005

What's the Story/Balamory.


I’m sure that everyone has a special place that is dear to their heart: somewhere visited in childhood perhaps, or a place redolent with the memories of an old love affair. Maybe it’s just a particular pub that has an atmosphere that can’t be replicated anywhere else.

That place for me is Tobermory on the Isle of Mull; a charming village in a sheltered bay with a row of houses painted in different colours. I have happy memories of visiting the place with my parents as a kid and, in later years, decamping to the Fishnish Inn (colloquially known as the Pishnish) with some friends. It was a place that you could go back to year after year, secure in the knowledge that nothing much would have changed.

Alas, the BBC has changed all that. The tot’s TV series, Balamory, has resulted in a deluge of pre school munchkins, anxious to visit the ‘real’ village where their heroes, Miss Hoolie, PC plum, and Archie the inventor reside. It clearly reveals that the term ‘pester power’ is no media invention. Tarquin and Isolde are quite prepared to drive eight hours from Islington in order to walk along a damp and windy seafront with their progeny in tow.

The increased visitor numbers do bring in more tourist cash; but there is a big downside. People tend to visit for the day; they do nothing for the hotel and bed and breakfast trade. Worse still, they put off people who have come to Tobermory year after year. There’s not much peace and quiet to be had when the harbour is thronged with a congregation of screaming toddlers in pink cagoules.

One hotelier got completely pissed off with little kids asking if Josie Jump was in. He told one toddler that he’d killed her and buried her in the back garden. This reached the press, and there were howls of outrage at this display of gross insensitivity. Good on him I say. Someone needed to strike a blow for the poor downtrodden ornithologists and hill walkers who have seen their bucolic island bliss reduced to a fairground.

16 comments:

Sniffy said...

Fucking kids being pampered by their stuck-up or scumbag parents (the common denominator being "parent" here) are ruining this country.

They should bring back workhouses to keep these growth-restricted thickos out from people's feet while the schools are closed.

garfer said...

I am shocked by your attitude. With fifteen years of education under their belts these youngsters will be fit to jig a jig with the get real posse.

Sniffy said...

Yes, I'm sure it'll be a worthwhile expenditure of my taxes.

Anonymous said...

No Tina. They should be rounded up, smothered and chopped up into little bits - bite sized would be nice.

Better still, even smaller bits. Small enough to become the latest Pot Noodle flavour - 'Stuck up, spoilt little bastard flavour'.

I know! Let's get them even younger - before the little parasites invade the world. 'Feutus Flavour Pot Noodle', now there's a sure-fire seller!


btw: cakeface - have you come up with that top ten Steps songs yet? Jeez, you're slow.

S.I.D. said...

I like children,but I couldnt eat a whole one.

garfer said...

Thanks Dorothy.

Sniffy said...

Top ten of Steps songs? Could be a long wait.

Anonymous said...

Tina - I know. He'll have to wade through that Streisand collection first.

Anonymous said...

Looks like I have the place to meself today.

And besides, the B&B's being empty mean the epidemic of pubic lice may just be averted.

Fucking greedy bastards anyway - not wanting anyone else to have any fun unless they can make money out of it too.

Whinging twats.

Has anyone chopped up those sproggs yet? I'm famished.

Sniffy said...

Just been for a walk down the local "country park" with my sister and dad. There were loads of kids, I could've taken my pick if the parents hadn't been so bloody vigilant and I hadn't forgotten my instruments of torture and mutilation.

It's lovely down there, nice woodland, a little lake, visitor centre, the river running alongside the woods. And they have to build a fucking kiddy playgroung with primary-coloured swings and slides. Why can't people take their kids down to the woods to enjoy the natural things down there, feed the ducks and swans on the lake, hunt for conkers? They'll be demanding a fucking McDonald's next.

Anonymous said...

I thought kid's only got taken down to the woods for 'other' reasons these days?

Saying that though, all the quiet places in the woods are too busy lately with all the straights 'dogging'.

Sniffy said...

Not much dogging down those woods, it's the other ones where all the action is, or so I've heard. There were lots of people with dogs and lots of dog-like people though.

Anonymous said...

Ah. Strangling puppies, eh?

Shall we have a sing-song while cake-face is probably down the pub getting pissed?

I'll start...

# A million green bottles, hanging on the wall

garfer said...

I hate those 'family friendly' pubs. Children should be banned from all pubs. Exile them to the car park with a packet of crisps and a coke I say.

Sniffy said...

Everyone has been assigned the task to burn down at least one Whacky Warehouse this week.

Rowan said...

wow! after reading the comments, don't know what to say now, but felt obligated to say something after taking the trouble to read all this....so, ok, i'll shut up now.