A long time ago in a country not so far away,

 Paris Bars

It is a troubled time for the world famous Hawick pipe band. Many of the older playing members have retired or just quit for one reason or another leaving this fine institution high and dry through no fault of it's own. The ranks of numerous smartly dressed pipers and drummers have now disappeared into the sunset never to return and to make things worse, or in the case of the younger band contingent better, Sumaratine department stores has just been on the phone looking for pipers, who can save the day cries Bob Short? 

All eyes turned to the young shy boys practicing hard in the corner, Cameron Renwick, Stephen Domingo and Fatty Irvine. So off went this intrepid trio of talented musicians in search of Duty Free,  Hookers and other such delights which can be found in abundance in this beautiful but daunting city which just happens to be France's capital, where hairy armpits, I only wash once a year, garlic breath and snails rule peoples lives and attitudes.

The leader of this group a was piper from another band called Archy Anderson who was commissioned by Bob Short to look after the young group from Hawick, to give them advice or guidance in a foreign country when ever they would need it, after all this was the first time outside of Hawick never mind  Scotland for the some of them. Another guest player who accompanied us at the time was Stow's  number one piper Gary "Spectulum" Watson so called because a spectulum is ideal for tight c***s.

So now everything is in place and all the arrangements are made and they're ready for the off, and on the September of 1984 the fantastic five set off to Paris from Edinburgh on a Air U.K. Hanley Page Victor and were lucky to be seen again, alive that is. The plane took off and circled round the bridges and made out that it was coming into land but didn't touch down and roared back up again, what had happened was a fuel cap had been found on the runway, but after careful examination by the ground staff realised that it wasn't ours. After experimenting with the onboard refreshments trolley, the lads were soon settling down and enjoying their flight which after a time didn't seem to be so shaky as it was at first, or so they thought. On arrival, the talented musicians picked up their bags and traveled by luxury tube to the magnificent Manqueschitole Hotel where late night parties were held in abundance, and also we would be calling this home for the duration of our stay. The coloured chap on reception issued us with our first warning one night when myself and Fatty Irvine went to reception to try and open a fine bottle of "Port du Roy St Emilion Grand Cru (we Scottish have fine tastes in nightcaps)  I was reaching over the counter with the bottle in my hand while Fatty Irvine was holding onto my ankles and Wow, all that I saw was eyes and teeth, the colored chap was actually OK about the whole thing and opened the bottle for us, but at the same time insisted "no more parties" The days passed by and from 9:00am to 6:00pm  each day we would entertain the large masses which would gather outside the Samaratine Department store, but it wasn't all work and no play, no siree because at night the innocent if not cherub like face of this great city would change dramatically and it would make us do stuff that we would normally never think of doing. One memorable night we were dragged into a strip club and we were ordered to drink Champagne and forced to watch naked people doing things to each other (Oh through the eyes of babes) I must apologise  but the rest of the trip is a blur and I was very young at the time but I needed the money. Also what I do remember is not printable, after all this is a family website and if you do want to know more don't ask me. A big thanks must go to all who were present on the trip, and once again the biggest thanks must go to the D.T.I. (Department of Trade and Industry) for making this trip possible

As told by Cammy Renwick