Postcard From North East Fife
by Dean Fraser You could almost have been forgiven for thinking we weren't living in a dystopian nightmare up here in the Kingdom of Fife. Because back in April and May this year you could not have witnessed anything more spectacularly bucolic. The picturesque, almost leafy country lanes. The tractors, ever so gently meandering and bobbing through partially ploughed fields. Hares darting, for what seemed like their lives, from still motionless ‘lies’ on the brown earth, or females fending off randy jacks ("not at the moment mate, thanks"). The birds, squirting into hedge rows, and then into trees – beaks full. And let's not forget the farmhouses and cottages, releasing small wisps of smoke via the chimneys up into the blue still skies. My God, like something out of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (the weather, all over the UK, was glorious, then). We cycled along main roads, with virtually no traffic, having to pinch ourselves to properly recall what kind of hell this was. Myself and my partner – who believed everything that both Governments were telling her (Ouch!) So, as you can imagine, I have my work cut out for me up in the Frozen North. More kinds of hell to negotiate in the form of Kim Jong Krankie – and all her sycophants – briefing us with televised...
