I should know better

Still recovering from a horrendously exhausting weekend of Championship shows, one in Belfast and the other in deepest Dunfermline.

Off in the old white bus to the Irish Sea ferry. In the old days all the ferries smelled strongly of fish and you took the dogs to the passenger decks with you. I can remember years ago sleeping all the way on the slow boat on top of a very obliging Afghan called Beau - a bit like cuddling a bicycle with a rug over it.

Nowadays you leave the dogs in the vehicles and the ferry is a sort of floating burger and slot machine palace, with children left to run everywhere on the grounds that they can`t get off it.

However, it was on time and we arrived at the show - where I quickly discovered that yet again I should have applied the red hairdye to the boys before leaving. However, Florian did his little best and won, mainly because there was nothing remotely red in his class.

On the way home a gale got up, and we ploughed through a heavy swell, and wallowed a bit. I didn`t even notice, but for a lot of people the movement and the overwhelming smells of burgers and chips were just too much. One of those was S, an opinionated and inexperienced young English exhibitor I find very hard to take. Her friend told me she was down below, feeling quite ill.

"There`s an old Scottish cure for seasickness", I said solemnly. "It never fails".

"Tell her to try a deep-fried Mars bar."

Her friend (also English) ran off to deliver the message

It really never fails, too. You don`t actually need the Mars bar. The words are usually enough to....er...immediately bring up whatever is troubling you.

And I sincerely hope they did.