Rugby Tournament in Edinburgh

Since David's aunt and uncle were with us this weekend, we put together a "greatest hits" tour of the town of St. Andrews for them. We started at the Old Course hotel (just to drop John off at rugby training at the field in front of the hotel) then walked over to the first tee of the Old Course. We walked along the beach for a bit, then walked across the first tee (there's actually a path that cuts right across the first tee that is wide enough for cars to drive across) in between golfers hitting their first shot on the tee and those headed toward the 18th green. We stopped into the pro shops for a bit of shopping, then watched a few groups tee off. We watched one poor guy hit a horrible drive that skittered across the ground for about thirty yards, to the snickers of the crowd watching, and I kind of wanted to point out that most of us in the crowd would have done the same thing under such scrutiny. I'm sure that guy will never live that shot down with his buddies! Next we went to the farmers' market and got some Arran cheese and some smoked trout, which we ate on a bench on Market Street—the fish was delicious, though our hands smelled like trout for the rest of the afternoon! We also stopped into Fisher and Donaldson bakery for some fudge donuts, which we ate on another bench on Market Street. Then we walked towards the cathedral, after David’s uncle stopped a police officer to ask him how much a parking ticket was and who was the most famous person to whom he had given a ticket. The officer said, in a very thick accent, which I actually did understand, that he once moved a car that was illegally parked because it belonged to a golfer in town for the British Open, but I don’t know enough about golf to recognize the name. I was just impressed with the idea that a pro golfer was actually driving himself around the town of St. Andrews during the Open…they have someone to carry their clubs for them, so I would have thought they would at least have someone to drive their cars for them too! At the cathedral, I took the kids up St. Rule’s Tower, but Sutton and Carol were wise enough to decline the offer to climb all 108 feet and waited for us at the bottom. We walked along the harbor for a bit, then over to St. Andrews castle and parts of the campus. The skies were threatening a bit of rain at this point, so we drove back to our house to change for dinner and for David and his uncle to have a pre-dinner shot of whisky, then came back into town for a 6:00 pm reservation at an Indian seafood restaurant.

On Sunday morning, John and I packed up a bag of snacks and raingear and went to the rugby fields to meet the team bus, which was headed to Edinburgh for the annual Currie tournament. Kids in P3 and older play in it, and it's quite a large tournament, so John was pretty excited at the idea. After a very steamy ride in a foggy bus through the pouring rain across the Firth of Forth (with the kids singing, "Driver, I need a wee wee..." to the tune of "Glory, Glory, Hallelujah" in the back of the bus), the bus let us off at the Currie fields, and we joined a throng of kids and parents, all dressed in multi-colored rugby stripes and shockingly short shorts (the kids, luckily, not the parents...), heading across the muddy rugby pitches. A large crowd was there to watch as well, and as John and I tried to find our way around without losing each other, I felt a little like I was heading into the Triwizard Tournament! If only I could have found that portkey...

We did manage to find the rest of the P3 Madrascals at some point, and John proceeded to warm up with his team while I tried to fashion a dry place to sit out of my shopping bag and John's wellies. I should have just taken a clue from the other parents, and warm up with a pint of Tennents as they were doing--making this the first child's sporting event I have attended that offered beer on tap, by the way! I made a bit of conversation with the parents of some of the other kids on the team, explaining for about the 168th time that I lived in New York State which is nowhere near New York City. Luckily, as I began my 169th explanation of Upstate New York geography (no, not near Niagara Falls either, actually...) the first game began, and the parent of a kid on the other team began to bellow so loudly at his kid out on the pitch that all the parents turned their focus to him (he had clearly already had a few pints of Tennents himself...) John's team won their first game, then had a short break, during which his team members moved off to the side of the pitch and commenced with tackling each other for another 30 minutes. Then they played two more games back to back, and won both of those as well. That meant that they were in first place and in the semi-finals, which meant that we got to stay for the afternoon portion of the tournament. Fortunately, the rain had stopped, and the boys had been given a lunch (a ham and butter sandwich!) by the Currie club, so everyone was happy and excited to be in the semi-finals. And they did play a good game (against the first team, with the screaming dad again, whose face was even redder this time!) but lost in the end, 4-3. John was disappointed, though he was happy that he got to ride home with his mates again, and they tackled each other all the way back to the bus. On the way home, they sang a song called "Charlie had a pigeon" that I think was quite vulgar, though I'm not sure. At first, they had been chanting "oggie, oggie, oggie...oi oi oi" in a round until one of the parents pointed out that it was a Welsh chant, prompting them to immediately switch to the Charlie number. When we finally got home to St. Andrews, I was ready for a nap, but David and Sutton and Carol were dressed and ready for dinner in Anstruther, so I made a quick cup of coffee before we headed out for the 10 minute drive to the fishing village where we all took a walk along the stone pier then tucked into some incredibly satisfying fish and chips for dinner!