Tuesday, August 03, 2010


We're camping in Paignton this week. This morning we noticed we were just 12 miles from the famous Buckfast Abbey. We drove across Dartmoor to what seemed like a fairly civilised little abbey. We had a lovely lunch and walk through the lavender fields. As we went to leave it occurred to both Thomas and I that neither of us had ever tasted their tonic wine. Thomas bought the smallest bottle they had. After dinner he poured us each a bottle top full. I am now utterly puzzled as to how anyone can get drunk on the stuff given even a tea spoonful is so sweet and syrupy you can't stomach it! It tastes a bit like the vile ginger wine my old Granda's girlfriend - the scay 80-something Greta - used to give us at xmas as teenagers. We all jostled for the seat closest to the plantpot so we could dispose of it quietly! Anyone who can manage a whole glass of Buckfast must have a stomach of iron.
When we admitted to Marcel we'd never tasted it he looked shocked and said he had... strange - I thought I was paying for an overpriced house in Newton Mearns to stop him from becoming a Buckie ned. But when I asked where he'd tasted it, he said they had served it at several of the Bar Mitzvahs he'd been to recently! Newton Mearns after all! Phew!

1 comment:

The Scudder said...

I always thought these Bar Mitzvahs were a coming of age Jewish thing ,, Now I realise it's a gaining the Freedom of Coatbridge thing !