I enjoyed my holiday muchly. Really, the only downside was the variety of loud, rude, ignorant and stupid people encountered in duration.
Incidentally, this piece may imply certain national stereotyping, whereas I believe all nations produce loud, rude, ignorant and stupid people; furthermore, it is often not possible to ascertain the nationality of the quiet, polite, intelligent people.
We made a mistake at Liverpool Street Station, getting into what they call "Business Class" with standard class tickets. The guard, 'Robert' did not appear to two minutes before arrival at Stansted. He was contemptuous and sneering in pointing out that we were in the wrong carriage. My pointing out that First Class normally has a big '1' on the window, and we were more concerned with getting the luggage onto the train before departure than examining the small print in the carriage was met with unacceptable rudeness.
All EasyJet flights were being checked-in at all desks, so passengers had to form one very long queue. Long, but fast moving. As we shuffled with our trolleys, an American walked along trying to find the back of the queue shouting very loudly "Gee! Holy cow!" etc ad nauseam. I refrained from sharing my two-and-a-half hour check-in at JFK.
And there was the French woman who pushed through the queue for the Ladies at the airport.
The Americans (three separate groups) who shouted very loudly in the Italian restaurant in Stirling. It wouldn't have been so bad if they had had managed one interesting sentence between them.
Rude Yank woman who, seeing me emerge from the hotel in Stirling carrying three bags, camera and monopod, thrust her camera at me, and yelled "Take a photo of the family with the Rolls Royce," (there was a wedding departing). I felt a look of being overwhelmed on my face, so she demanded "Do you speak English?" "Yes, the English I speak has a please on the end." "I thought you were German or something." I pointed out that my hands were full. After depositing bags and monopod in car, I went back to get a photo of Roller. The Yank husband approached me with aggressive body language and said something about "My wife". I chose not to hear and walked to the car.
The various groups of people who decided that it was okay to walk five abreast on the path alongside Loch Katrine. In fact further rantage on this is available else where.
The ignoramuses who left their children of 6 and 2 unsupervised whilst they went into the cafe at Loch Katrine carpark. Never mind that the two year old climbed onto a thin wall above a thirty foot drop.
Arsehole huggers - you know, when you're driving along a steep and bendy road with frequent need to slow (hint 'SLOW' painted on the road; chevrons; signs saying 'reduce speed now') and the arsehole behind insists on driving three feet behind.
People who park in passing places. People (Germans seemed to specialise in this) who refuse to reverse a few yards to a passing place.
People who go for a walk on a untarmaced mountain path or clamber down waterfalls wearing flip-flops.
The stupid woman on reception in the foul and disgusting Ossians Hotel in Fort William. As we were leaving, I attempted to point out that the shower knob kept falling off, the only light that worked was in the bathroom, that only one socket worked, and that there was a spring sticking out of the bed. I was very calm and non-confrontational, but she kept interrupting me, being defensive "No one's reported it..." "that's what I'm attempting to do..." "...we've been very busy, we haven't had a chance to inspect the room" "... do you employ half-wits as cleaners?..." "....well, if you'd mentioned the lights yesterday we could have sent an electrician to fix them...". Look, dear, I wasn't saying it was your personal fault. I was merely reporting facts. Such a shame you had to be so rude. There will be a letter of complaint and a demand for my money back. £56 a night for a doss house? Do me a favour.
Idiots who run down almost sheer mountain-sides with seemingly no regard for their own safety, or, more importantly, other walkers.
The Australian couple (emigrated in '67) who visit Scotland and complain about the weather being overcast; who don't like London because it's full of 'foreigners'; (I assume they exclude Aussie overstayers); don't like Edinburgh because it's crowded (in August...!) and they have to pay £10.50 to park; and were utterly flabbergasted that as a Londoner I think the congestion charge is a 'good thing'.
The yappy Yank who did not shut up for the entirety of the boat trip round the Dunvegan seal colony, asking stupid question after stupid question and then giving a running commentary on her emotional reaction to what she saw.
People who ran round Dunvegan Castle gardens without noticing what they were passing. People who thought it was the perfect environment to shout to their children. Russians who arrived at Dunvegan Castle and felt the need to shout very loudly and repeatedly "Very nice, hooray, very nice, hooray" and various other things in Russian.
Posh and stupid woman at Uig B&B who made too many assumptions "Are you on the ferry today?" "Were you held up at Mallaig yesterday?" and yet were completely unable to understand my conversational device of the open question "And yourselves?" before making patronising comments about the family ephemera and artefacts on display.
The loud Italians who insisted on shouting at every stop we made on Lewis/Harris. The various people who thought nothing of rubbing against the 5000 year-old Standing Stones at Callanish.
People who shove you out of the way so that they can spend seemingly hours trying to frame a photo of ugly wife in front of waterfalls with cheap camera (hint, mate, take the waterfalls, or take the wife - together it's just a snapshot).
Spanish man who glared furiously at me when I refused to move over on Oban Esplanade. Sorry mate, when you and your ghastly family are walking four abreast and we're in single file, the onus is on you.
Loud yank in Vegetarian cafe on Kerrera asking for a meat sandwich, then complaining that there wasn't any meat, then ostentatiously announcing which chicken dish he was going to have at the designed-for-Americans diner that evening.
Woman in the pub. Very nice, but, really rather sad. They come to Oban every year - have done for fifteen years. He fishes, she shops. Each to their own. But trying to get me in a conversation about shopping. You should get out more, love.
Italian family who insisted on shouting at McCaig's Tower. And taking photos of them and the view.
Rude person who absolutely refused to move out of the way on Oban Esplanade despite us being in single file, them being three abreast and me wearing a sling (far more people did go out their way to give me a wider berth!).
Knobhead who decided to chase the sheep near Calgary Beach to amuse the kids/show what a big man he is.
Stupid people on car deck on Craignure-Oban ferry. Stupid 4x4 mother encouraging her ten year old to chat to CalMac guy; me waiting to get through; old bags barging past me, knocking my bad arm. (Young bloke who stood aside to let me pass gave me one of those amused/exasperated looks of sympathy).
Large group of Spanish teenagers who spent fifteen minutes shouting to each other on grass at Tarbet, then massed on the pier blocking passage for everybody else, including a group of a dozen or so elderly people with walking sticks etc.
Three different groups of shouting Yanks at Glasgow airport.
Finally, and not really a ranty thing, just something that bemuses me. People who stop in a lay-by on the trunk road, get out their deckchairs and have their picnic, despite there being numerous more significant pull-ins with views a few hundred yards away; people who spread their picnic rug on the grass right next to the car park when there's yards and yards of lawn (including picnic tables) leading down to the loch; people who go into tacky souvenir shops and walk around examining every time, displaying signs of compulsive shopping disorder. People who wander aimlessly about.
