What a Time To Give Up Drinking
08 August 2020 | A wee cup of tea and a scone
Way back in life pre-Covid, I was lounging by the pool at the Royal Langkawi yacht club being nosy and listening in to the conversation between two of the superyacht crew who were swilling beer in the cool of the pool water. I knew one of them was Scottish but when he said to the other that he was from "Shitland", it made me smile as it was both the first time I'd ever heard the word "Shetland" spoken by a native and at the same time had one of Anne's after dinner stories confirmed true.
Anne's dad got a job up in the Shetland Isles when she was just a nipper and consequently spent her primary school years there. When her dad moved back to the mainland, Largs to be precise, Anne found herself at the front of her new school room, completely mystified as to why her new classmates were rolling about the aisles after she told them that she had come down from "Shitland".
Back at the pool, I then got talking to the Shetlander and, as seems to somehow happen to me, despite my iron will power, I was somewhat led astray and a few sundowner beers by the pool turned into pizza, beer and wine at Jack's Bistro till near midnight, then back to Time Bandit for a wee tour round Scotland by way of Laphroig, Talisker, Jura and back south via Glenmorangie.
Three days it took to recover. Three days that took us right up to Lockdown and, that seemed as good a reason as any to lose a few pounds, do some manscaping and go fitness mad, doing workouts every day, walk miles upon miles upon miles, stop eating rubbish and crucially, stop the bevvy.
And of course, what happens as soon as I hang up my beer glass?
"FREE wine with your meal" on offer twice a week at the marina. "Here Katharina, have my glass".
"All you can drink for 35 Ringgit (£7)", and I'm seldom one to pass on a challenge. Or maybe it was a taunt.
"FREE cocktails at the Eastern and Oriental every night, 6-8pm". No thanks, I'll just have a wee cup of tea.
And of course, at the door of every retail establishment these days you get to wash your hands in the stuff.
And yet, in all these months, I've clung tightly to the wagon. Talk about iron will! I really should get a prize; perhaps a Merlot?