Eez zees where we seez zer Duerrl-fins?

It was only last week, wasn't it, when I complained to you about Gail impinging on MY walk time by stopping on the way to the park to talk to HER friends.

It gets worse. Quite often she talks to complete strangers too. And then blames me 'cos she says before she had a dog, everyone just ignored her!

Take yesterday's outing as an example.

There I was, with Gail, enjoying a stroll around the wee headland at the mouth of Aberdeen Harbour, when a couple carrying a map stopped beside us. Below I faithfully report the ensuing conversation.

(The lady to her husband:) "Regardez Gaston, c'est Milou!" (And then to Gail) "Oh, excusez moi, excuse me, is zat duerg zee same teep as Tintin's duerg? C'est un Fuerx Terrieur, n'est-ce pas?"

Gail: "This is Bertie, and you're right, he's a wire-haired fox terrier, like Milou. Although we call Tintin's dog Snowy over here."

"We av a duerg at ome too, and ah am meessing eem. But, pleez, can you tell me, is zees zer place where we seez zer Duerrl-fins?"

"Zer Duerrl-fins? Oh, (light dawns), the DOLPHINS. Yes it is. You can quite often see them playing at the harbour entrance.

"And av you seen zem today?"

"No, I haven't, the sea is a bit rough just now. The best time for dolphin spotting is in summer at high tide, especially when the water is calm."

The lady translates this to her husband, then proceeds to ask about the ruined building behind (was zees un chateau?) the boats in the harbour (are zey feeshing boats?) the structure in the water nearby (eez it an uerrl rig?) and Gail gets sucked into a lengthy explanation of the history of the Torry Battery, the difference between fishing boats and vessels for taking supplies to oil platforms, the need to dredge sediments from the mouth of the harbour and the fact that the oil fields are over 100 km offshore. All this is again translated to husband and elicits supplementary questions. Then Gail asks if they are visiting and lady says their daughter is studying in Aberdeen for a year so they came over from France to see her. Then Gail says she once had a French student lodging with her and what a lovely girl she was and, on and on it went...

I think you would have got bored too.



P.S.  Gail, who does not always appreciate the subtleties of my writing, has just asked if I am looking for a new career as Inspector Clouseau.


(Video clip included to bring a smile to any despondent Scottish rugby fans...)