The Kelpies, a pink bus shelter and two taxi drivers

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I’ve been longing to see the Kelpies, two enormous horse sculptures that live in Falkirk, Scotland.  This had been on my bucket list of things to do whilst up in Edinburgh. Not only did I come face to face with the Kelpies I also met two entertaining taxi drivers and came across a bright pink bus shelter with no buses. Such is Scotland, it has a charm  you can’t hope to find anywhere else in the world and that is why I love it so.

Mum and I set off the day after I arrived in Edinburgh. The weather seemed fair, so I wasn’t about to take any chances.  In Scotland when it’s dry you go out, you don’t wait for the next day!

We travelled by train and arrived at Falkirk High hoping to take the bus to the Kelpies. As we went off in search of a bus we walked past three taxi drivers having a chat. I sensed that these three were not your ordinary run of the mill taxi drivers. The nearby bus stop had a timetable that stated a half an hour wait so mum and I decided to opt for a taxi.

This is when the fun began!

We asked the three taxi drivers if one of them could take us to see the Kelpies. They greeted us with enthusiasm, told us the price and suggested that we take the taxi at the front. It turned out that our driver had a dual career. He’d grown tired of plumbing and now worked as a taxi driver/plumber. He had a fine line of chat that could win him a job as a chat show host or a comedian at the Edinburgh Fringe. I’m not joking! His banter started as soon as we asked him the price to take us to the Kelpies. He said Scottish folk get a special rate of six or seven pounds but the English have to pay ten. Obviously, he had heard I live in Cambridge!

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A Dream Bus Induced By A Curry

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Spices can do strange things to you. There’s no doubt about it. I experienced the weirdest dream. Normally my husband is the one to have those exciting, technicolour dreams, but I reckon for that night I stole his dream. With that in mind, here’s a thought for all you frequent dreamers out there:

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Great advice from Hypothyroid Mom – stop stealing dreams it’s a dangerous business.

https://www.facebook.com/HypothyroidMom

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A Dream Bus Induced By A Curry

After having a lovely family dinner  at Bollywood Spice in Cambridge I dreamt I was at a holiday camp. I’m not sure if I was with my family. Though, I certainly wasn’t alone. One of my friends was nearby climbing up a trellis. She didn’t seem to want to come down to greet me, and my other friend was making her way towards me on this unfamiliar pathway. She asked me if I wanted to go swimming. I didn’t have my costume with me so I said No. After they left I was angry with myself for saying No.  It was too nice a day not to indulge in a lovely swim.Why hadn’t I said, yes? It wouldn’t take me a minute to join them.   I can’t remember the exact details of what happened next but I was now standing in my swimming costume.

The quiet pathway was replaced by a long colourful slide. I was kind of hoping that it would be like one of those pretty, colourful slides that you sometimes see at water parks overseas. Gentle. The kind I prefer! Yes, I’m a bit of a wimp, but the good thing about a dream is you can be as brave as you want to be. You can be a hero.

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In my dream the water slide looked more like this:  EEK!!!!!

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There were kids everywhere, screaming, shouting and jostling for position. Reluctantly, I joined the end of the very long queue to take a ride. I hesitated when I reached the front,  hovering, unsure what to do next. The children behind me were getting impatient so I had no choice. If I didn’t move I was sure they were going to shove me off the end of the slide.  I didn’t fancy that, so, with trepidation, I, reluctant hero in the making, launched myself.  I had no idea where the slide would take me, or what further dangers might await me. It’s punishing ride seemed to go on and on forever. I was thrown from side to side, turned upside down, every possible permutation. But at last my trial came to an abrupt end.  I fell off and landed on the concrete with one last great whoosh of water. I swallowed a huge gulp, and spent the next five or ten minutes coughing it up. I tried to wipe my eyes but this was almost impossible as I had nothing to dry myself with. I squeezed some of the water out of my hair, and tried to dry my eyes again. This time I was a bit more successful. I was rewarded by the blurry sight of a town. I’m very short-sighted so it was very blurry!  An unfamiliar, blurry town! Just as I was about to set off to explore,  one of my fellow revellers came off the slide, and engulfed me up to the shins in water again. Before I  had a chance to talk to her she wandered off. How unfriendly! So I was alone again. Undaunted I made my way to the local hotel and walked straight into the lobby. I was still dressed in my swimming costume,  bare foot, and  dripping wet, yet nobody seemed to notice. It was almost as if this was an everyday occurrence. I had no idea where I was or how to get back home. So I approached one of the hotel staff and asked for help. Soon, several members of the hotel team  gathered around me in a brainstorming session to discuss how to get me back home safely.

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It was as if the hotel had come to a standstill and my plight was the most important thing on the agenda! Finally a decision was made, two of  the hotel receptionists would escort me out of the hotel and help me find a taxi home. My two helpers sent me off in the right direction. When we arrived at the taxi rank they presented me with a bulging purse. The buckle of the purse was struggling to contain its overstuffed contents.   I opened it.  It was full of CASH!!!!

There were notes and coins of every denomination.

I smiled at the generosity and kindness of these strangers.

“Thank you so much for all your help, but this purse is too full, I can’t take this. Surely it won’t cost me this much to get back?” I asked.

One of the receptionists appeared puzzled. I began to wonder if I was so far from home that a purse full of money was the only way that I could ever have a hope of returning. She glanced at her colleague as if she expected her to say something but she gave no answer, and receiving none, she just smiled.

Finally her colleague spoke. “I don’t know where you’re going, or how you came to be here, but you must ride the yellow taxi, so keep the purse,  every single penny.”

So, I did as I was told. I accepted the gift of the large purse. It would have been churlish not to.  I looked around. This was no ordinary taxi stop. It was more like a bus stop. There were folding down seats for people to sit  on, and a shelter with a roof to keep out the rain. A large vehicle appeared,  it was bright yellow, and looked just like a bright yellow school bus. Thank goodness I didn’t have to propel it with my own foot power.

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This was no ordinary bus, it was my taxi home.  It was a bright yellow VINDALOO Taxi bus induced by a curry, with a large CAUTION sign stamped across it’s front.

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Those spices really had fizzed and bubbled and caused one heck load of mischief. I never knew what happened to the rest of the dream as I woke up. Of course. Why is it we always wake up before we find out the conclusion to our dreams? Who knows if I rode the Vindaloo taxi home or not? But it does seem as if I had the sense to accept the big wad of money! Interesting………… Wow, those technicolour dreams are fun hope I steal another one soon!

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What an extraordinary dream! Do you find that spices make you have crazy dreams too? Do tell.

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Bye for now.

Marje @ Kyrosmagica. xx

© Marjorie Mallon 2015

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