The Angry Corrie 34: Nov-Dec 97

TAC 34 Index

Paul Whitehouse reviews 'The Munros'

My auntie's bought me this book, right? It's all about mountains in Scotland, and how to get to the top. Aren't mountains brilliant? Specially Scotch ones, 'cos they're right high up, and they've got rocky bits on top; well most of them have, some have got grass all the way up. Most of them are right pointy, and they've got them little terriers on them; I think. And they're all 30000 feet high, and they're called Munros, 'cos she thought they should be called after her husband Glenn Miller, but he said he'd rather write a book about them, but he died before he finished it, right? And anyway, there were already a lot of valleys called after him, and he didn't want people to think he was bigheaded. So they called them after Marilyn, but it gets confusing, 'cos some people think they should be called after Ben Johnson, the Canadian poet who wrote "Confessions Of An Opium Eater". Not all of them are called after him, though, some are called after them little terriers. And the funny thing is that the tops aren't always as high as the rest of the mountain, so they're called "Tops", and sometimes they get even higher, or lower. I think it's to do with global warming, or is it inflation? Anyway, every so often, someone in Scotland (the Scotch Master of Ceremonies I think his name is, well, Master-something, anyway), says that it's time the mountains were sorted out again, to see which have gone up and which have gone down, so they can go in a new book, and people can go and put bags on them to put rubbish in if they want. And some people say it's a load of rubbish anyway, but they're only jealous 'cos they haven't got the new book. Or else they say that they've been up all of them already, and this SMC's cheating, and they'll have to start all over again now, and nobody'll come to their next party 'cos it'll be like having your 21st twice, won't it? Hey, and you have to watch where you're going, and know the Green Cross Code, and wear bright gear at night in case you get run over, right? And you can get a wall-chart to show you where you are; and when you've finished, you tell them and they put your name in a book like the Guinness Book of Records, and it stays there till next time. But you don't get a medal 'cos only the Duke of Edinburgh got one of them for going up Everest on his own with Mike Harding and Lord Bonington during the war. And all them jealous people say it's a fiddle to sell books, but it can't be; 'cos I didn't buy it, my auntie did. Aren't mountains brilliant? I bet our milkman's never been up one, 'cos he has trouble coming down our stairs.

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