Accordian

Between The St Nickerless Centre and the Bon Accord Centre, just by the lights at Dixons there often sat an Accordian Player.

He was on the go for a good few years now as he used to come in to the shop where I worked in the early 90's to buy fags and get rid of all the 2p's people had given him when he was busking. He always had dried spit at the sides of his mouth and I reckon this was due to the frenzy and concentration of his Accordian Playing.

He always had a melancholy look, as if he wished he'd sold his soul to the Devil that day at the Crossroads of West/North Street and King Street. Clearly he didn't. He might have been able to bash out a fairly good "Dashing White Sergeant," but Jimmy Shand he was not.

PeepPeeps

So this site has covered, Tramps, Weel Kent Fowk, and a couple of shops. As the Grey Toon has so many pubs - I feel we really ought to cover a few.

First of all, let me present to you PeepPeeps. One of the roughest of the harbour pubs. Only been in there once - when some bloke suggested a harbour pub crawl.

Now I could tell you all about that experience, but instead, just watch this:

Well Kent Shops #2 - The 24 Hour Porn and Popper Shop

I speak with confidence when I say that Stephen's Corner Shop (aka the 24 Hour Porn and Popper Shop) on Hutcheon Street is a local landmark.

As you would expect, Steven's is open 24 hours. It is full in the middle of the night with dopey eyed punters buying mars bars and other such munchies. My dad reckons it's only open 24 hours because someone broke in to it every time they tried to close it.

It sells porn. Most newsagents have a top shelf. Stevens has an entire wall of porn with the normal mags (Bella, TV times, Gardener's Weekly etc) relegated to a much smaller area. Behind the door was (someone please let me know if it still is) a rusty nail with a hand-typed book hanging from it. It was a list of "massage parlours" in the Aberdeen area.

It sells poppers. Amyl Nitrate. Behind the counter. Alledgedly.

It is often staffed by children. (Or incredibly young looking short people). Often we would go in at 4am and be served by what appeared to be an 8 year-old.

It sells all the normal things you'd expect - often at knock-down past-their-due-by-date prices. We once spent an entire summer drinking bottles of cheap fizzy wine (alcohol content unknown) purchased for £1 a bottle.

And finally, no Aberdonian in their right mind would give directions around that side of town without saying "OK, go up George street, take a left up towards The 24 Hour Porn And Popper Shop and then keep going until... " etc.

Class.

The Bouncy Metal Twins

Aaah... the great days of the Mudd Club.

Aaaah. Let me now reminisce.

Let my mind drift back to when the carpet in the palace actually had a pattern and hadn't yet been covered over in the black sticky mess of cider and black. Aye, I'm that auld...

When shuffling back and forth to "This Corrosion" and doing the 'crusty-skip' to "Killing In The Name Of," was the order of the day and they used to clear the floor with Ugly Kid Joe.

Back then (amongst other significants), there were the Bouncy Metal Twins. Both about the height of a hobbit and seemingly with soles like bouncy balls, they bounced around the streets of Aberdeen together. Sometimes perfectly in sync... Sometimes perfectly out of sinc like a sine wave and a cosine wave making their way to their final destination.

Sadly, I've only seen one of them for many years. Were there ever two of them or was that just my imagination? Back in the days of the Mudd Club, when anyone that wore black knew everyone else that wore all black and you'd think nothing of bouncing into eachother to the tunes of DJ Paul, I think I knew their names... but now I've forgotten.

Anyway. Searching for Aberdeen-related stuff on youtube brought me to this:



I bloody love youtube. I'm off to hunt for other tramps right now.

P.S. My favourite comment on this vid on youtube has to be:
Ah! Little Death Dood! Used to listen to a walkman whilst at the Metal night in Ritzy's. lol Asked my mate "Do you like death?" To which he replied "aye, aye, s'ok....suppose..."

Weel Kent Aberdeen Shop #1 - McKays

McKays.

Top camping and menswear shop on Queens Street round the side of Marischal College.

What can we say about McKays?

Indeed. What the hell CAN we say about McKays!?

Step through the door and step into a world full (and we mean FULL) of wondrous items! Looking for a new sleeping bag? McKays. Looking for a pair of combats? McKays. Looking for Doc Martens? McKays. Looking for an original Aberdeen football strip from 1982? McKays. Inexplicably looking for a 1940's gas mask? Mckays.

I think basically they must have started off with an empty bit of space and then just never removed any stock. Wonderous items lie around the place (some on hangers, most just displayed on top of old stock) with STRATA. I'm talking 1970's safari suits and Marc Bolan originals at the bottom... Drainpipes and safety-pinned items on top of that. Then a shocking layer of 80's bri-nylon with a thin line of 1988 cerise and acid-wear on top. Next follow the 90's flares and hoodies revival with a bit of grunge above that. On top will be McKays latest wares recently imported from God knows where - I imagine that camels arrive in the night laden down with quality goods because the sheer range of items available is staggering!

McKays very much comes from the old "How may I help you sir?" school of shops because almost as soon as you go in (stepping onto cardboard and into a blast of toasty warm air if it's snowing inside), Mr McKay himself (Is he Mr McKay? or just the Man That Owns It?) comes up to you in his Safari Suit asking if you need any help. And by God can he help. He knows where EVERYTHING is! Magnalite? "Magnalite? Upstairs. Ask my companion." (The guy upstairs MUST be a relation, surely) Legwarmers? "Ah yes. We have some JUST IN!" Courdroy slacks? "I believe we have some just... Ah yes. Here! Creased or non creased?"

And upstairs! Upstairs is a veritable Aladdin's Cave of wonders! Really. If you want welly boots, Swiss army knifes, wooly socks, aforementioned gas mask or basically any other bizarre shit... McKays is THE place to go.

It Rocks.

Honestly, I swear that when I were a youth (we're talking about 1985 - 2000 minimum) they had a handwritten sign proclaiming "FLARES NOW IN STOCK!!" Really? Now in stock? You don't say. They've been available in McKays for the past 40 years! Probably the same ones too...

Local Hero #2:Sam The Seagullz

"Cunning" and "Guile"
Both words used by North Tonight to describe This Hoors Neighbour's favourite Sqwawking Star... None other than Sam The Seagull.


Sam *SHOT* to fame about a year or so ago when some canny local with a mobile phone managed to capture him carrying out the most heinous of crimes... The daily theft of a bag of Cheese Doritos from the RS McColl's down the Castlegate.

For a short time (slightly longer than that chick that won Celebrity Big Brother even though she was just a giggling scrubber/nobody), Sam was the Grey Toon's HOTTEST celebrity, with appearances on North Tonight, the local BBC news, and... predicably, Youtube.

Sam was the Robin Hood of our times. He would first stake out the lie of the land before nipping in RSMcColl's open door and swiping his crisps of choice, stealing Cheese Doritos from the rich (as witnessed by shop worker, Sriaram Nagarajan, 22) and giving to the poor - his cawing seagull mates who hung around the back of the Merkat Cross until he'd done the dirty work. Once Sam had escaped with his spoils, he'd gleefully "beak" open the bag and share with his mates. Nice one gull.

According to Avanova: "The seagull, nicknamed Sam by staff and customers, has become so popular locals have started paying for his crisps...
"Customers have taken pity on the bird and have started donating money to keep him in Doritos. Sriaram added: "He's becoming a bit of a celebrity. Seagulls are usually not that popular but Sam is a star because he's so funny."

Of course the BBC reports it best as rendered below in this clip off youtube, the budding Jeremy Paxman even trying to question Sam about his behaviour.



There are others of course... But my favourite has to be this one. Because we all know that if you speed *anything* up and put it to the Benny Hill music... it's funny...

Testing Testing Wan Two Free

Happy New Year abdy oot there in the Grey Toon!

Yes. Tis I, The Neighbour Of The Hoors.

Welcome to the first post in "Aberdeen Tramps And Ither Weel Kent Fowk" in a good long time.

A little explanation:
I was first fitted a puckle o days ago by none other than Mr Aberdeen Tramps - an old friend from when we were at Aberdeen Uni together. Naturally the conversation turned to his old blog - ie this one, which he hasn't looked at, nevermind touched for mony a lang year.

Mr Aberdeen Tramps hasn't the internet access any more and asked me if I'd be able to tidy up a few things on it for him. Namely the comments - which are getting a bit libelous in some places - which I'll be using my editorial powers on - mwahahaha! (Your comments will also need to be moderated from now on - something which wasn't available when Mr Tramps first set this blog up), some updates and also the many old posts he wrote but didn't publish simply because he never got around to it.

And this I will do.

When I get time.

In the meantime, have patience and have an awfy guid New Year!

Neighbour Of Teh Hoors.

The Braveheart Guy

Now this guy I have nothing but respect for.

Seen going about his business in town wearing full Plaid. Looks like a Jacobite. Proper wild hair, the lot.

What. A. Dude.



Edit 02/01/09: Thanks to all the folks who commented letting me know who he is. I can now upload a photo of him.
Still. A. Dude.

Peter Dow Update

Peter Dow, while I was at Uni, posted the following notice in the Library: "Looking for a Female Friend. Due to my campaigning activities, I have no time to go dating. If you are interested in friendship or a serious relationship, please contact Peter Down on... 01224 ******"

Then when a friend moved into the west end, he pointed out Dow's flat window where he had the same notice with only the following difference "Thankyou, but I am not interested in any Gentlemen Friends. Please stop ringing my doorbell."

I can only tell you how much fun is to be found looking for locals in the Yahoo personals (search by area! What fun!)...

But then the other day, this was drawn to my attention. Granitecity.org, we love you...

Edit: 02/01/09 - Granitecity.org sadly no longer exists. However with the help of my good friend Neighbour Of The Hoors (who will soon be taking over this blog) - we found Mr Dow's appeal for a lady friend on his own site.


http://scot.extroverthost.com/lookingforawoman.htm

Genuine Celebrity #1: Joyce Falconer - Rasheeen aff River City

Never since the BBC cruelly axed Eldorado in a fit of pique have we seen such a fine example of home-grown talent. Truly the ancient greek muse of soap operas (Ethel?) was smiling down on an enthusiastic young BBC exec as he pondered over the mid-evening space in Scotland's weekday schedules. What does Scotland NEED? More gaelic? No! I ken! A Soap Opera set in Glasgow!

And so River City was born.

No character has ever had my jaw drop open in sheer amazement as Roisin, portrayed by our very own Torry Quine Joyce Falconer. Joyce is the main reason to watch the programme. From the moment I was channel-hopping past BBC 1 to hear Rasheeeen (in the middle of an argument with husband, Raymond - who was offering her a yum-yum to calm her down) cry "Sticky Bun!? Sticky Bun is it!?" I have beena huge fan.


Oor Torry Quine, Joyce

And this is probably a good time to cheer like a nutter because in a couple of weeks time she's going to be playing the fairy godmither in Aberdeen's Panto Cinderella. Our tickets are booked and I can't wait to hear her saying "Geez Cinders quine. Ye ken we need tae get ye oot o thae clies..."

And the best thing is, she actually speaks like that in real life!

You can access Joyce's web page here.

Weel Kent Fowk of the past #1 - Snuffy Ivy

Snuffy Ivy was a legendary Aberdeen Prostitute.

Undoubtedly a looker in her day, by the time she became famous in Aberdeen she was Weel Past Her Best.

According to my dad, she was called Snuffy Ivy because of the way she spoke. Now this is really not going to translate on to paper, so I'm not even going to try... just imagine you've got a deep fried mars bar up each nostril and that your tongue has gotten stuck to the roof of your mouth by eating a sticky toffee from Christies 99p shop.

There was a joke. Ahem. (Clears throat for full effect) :

"Knock Knock"
"fath's ththere?"
"It's the Police"
"Weel yeth'll hae tae wait yer thurn. Ah'm buthy the now"

Oh, and my auntie ran messages for her once in the mid 1920's for "a few coins" and got her backside thrashed when her mother found out...

Them were the days. Don't get hoors like that nowadays, do we ?

Amazonas

Amazonas (which is what they were called on that CD I bought off them for a tenner) are the Aberdeen version of The Fast Show's Patagonians.


Unfortunately, I can't find a photo of The Patagonians so you'll have to use your pop culture knowledge to get that one...

Panpiped and colourful, they have been entertaining Aberdeen Denziens for what seems like years! They always attract a good crowd - which I remember used to piss Squeak off quite a bit. She'd get down off her white lacy podium and skulk off for a fag.


An Aberdeen Denzien enjoys watching the Amazonas (note can of spesh)

Markies Street Preacher #3

Now this is Aberdeen's current Preacher Of Choice. He and his Outside Church set up outside Markies without fail every weekend. He could be there weekdays too. I don't know. I work for a living...

This one isn't afraid of unholy technology no! He even saves his voice for saying Grace of an evening... by using a nice wee set up. And I'm so dedicated to my blog (after my long absence), that I even went and took photos of him.

I present... Markies Street Preacher #3.



Markies Street Preacher #3 sets up his kit



... and then leaves technology to get on with it and spread the word


as he catches up on all the latest news in the Peenj.

Jo-Jo

Aaah Jo-Jo. What words can we use to describe thee?

Transvestite. Paedophile. Those are two I've heard used on many an occasion. As one comment on donstalk.co.uk points out, the Evening Express, in one of their better moments, described him as "a well known local male prostitue with a low IQ". Arf!

Actually... Jo-Jo seems to have been about Aberdeen for YEARS. Well not the years he was supposedly banged up for some child-related-crime. A workmate of mine was up on Broad Hill as a child in the early 80's when Jo-Jo approached him ("Ah jist buried a guid pal o' mine") and he was well known enough then for said workmate to leg it back off down to the carnies like is only sensible.

My only experience of him was seeing this man in ladies slacks, casual baby blue shoulder-padded top, blue eyeshow, shocking pink lipstick and stubble mince quickly up Holburn Street pursued by some Holburn Urchins (crying "Awa' ye tranny!") with his attack alarm on full volume before getting on to the number 16 bus screaming about the "little wee basturds!"

It does, indeed, take all sorts :P

MAF

MAF has tattooes all over his face and his name stands for Mad As F*ck.

He's legendary in Aberdeen for apparently beating up anyone that stares at his face for too long.

Actually, office gossip tells that there's two guys with tattooed faces - and that they share a flat.

I can just imagine the meeting of minds one fine Aberdeen day as they passed eachother in the street... and each thought "Hang on now! There's someone I could share a flat with!"

I'm not going to say any more in case I get beat up.

Markies Street Preacher #2

Now! Markies Street Preacher #2 was what we call an "in-aboot-comer" - i.e. he weren't from round these parts! In fact he was from Good Old America!

He was rotund, he had a quiff, he had a sincere face and! He had a STORY, a story I remember reading in the Aberdeen Herald And Post/Aberdeen Citizen/Whatever it was called that week.

Seems he'd been brought up on the wrong side of the tracks way back in Ol' Alabama... Got in with a bay'd crawd (bad crowd - I feel I ought to tranlate) - got himsel' inta drugs, drink and wimmin! He was goin' ta Hell I tell ya! HELL! BIG HOT FLAMIN' FIREY HELL!

And then (cue a bit of organ music) He found somethin' He found somethin' worrrrth livin' foah! He saw the Light! Ah tell ya! THE LIGHT! And he did go turrrn agayinst his wicked wayyyyyssss! And he did turn to tha LAWD and he did become a mayn of GAWD!!! And he did SEEK OUT THE WEAK! He did SEEK out the heathens! He did SEEK out the place where he could spread the WORD to God's unholy CREATURES!!!!

He did come to...

Aberdeen.

And it was here that he and Markies Street Preacher #1 would make their stance on each side of the thoroughfare and try to outshout, outworship and nay outpraise eachother before Aberdeen's shopping heathens... until one day, they did come together in holy mutual acceptance and have a nice cup of tea in the Bon Accord Centre's food court. If only all those with religious differences could get on so well...

The Materialistic Tramp

No idea who this chap is, but he really is quite a character...

Often spotted in and around town with what can only be described as STUFF.

Sort of like Propane Pete and his props, I've seen him about with a kettle and a large 1980's keyboard, but most recently he was spotted by me and my mate one saturday night.
First of all he was pushing a small pink childs bike past Top Shop, with all glittery streamers hanging from the handlebars and a little tinkly pink bell... Then later on he was sat on the church steps next to Gilcolmstoun Tramp with whom he was sharing a can of special brew.

He was hugging his pink bike guardedly and glaring at everyone (apart from Gilc Tramp who can clearly be trusted with small pink bicycles) in case they might try to take it from him!

Markies Street Preacher #1

There have been so many different Men Of God ranting outside Markies over the years that I'm actually going to have to do this in 3 posts! Three! Not that I'm desperate for post ideas mind...

Markies Street Preacher #1 was tall and thin and was affiliated to the Sally Army. He looked very smart indeed - I bet Peter Dow found him an inspiration in his early campaining years!

He would stand outside Markies with what I think was the case for some sort of brass instrument. And on this case, written in the parallellogram (see? Standard Grade Maths did teach us something!) shaped gold door letters that you get in B&Q, he'd have his Religious Message Of The Day.

And thus, with his beliefs proclaimed in beautiful signage, he would speak God's word to anyone who would listen. And probably be spat at by the White Heather Wifie... Gawd Bless 'Im.

Squeak

Squeak.

Squeak.

Squeaky F**king Squeak Squeak Squeak.

I'm sure you ALL know who I'm talking about. Perhaps there isn't actually any need to go on. But I shall. Squeak was one of Aberdeen's most persistant street artists - a fine quine of admirable robotic movements that would stand outside Markies on her "plinth" entertaining the fine folk of the Granite City with her impression of an android that's got a dog's chew toy stuck in it's throat.

She was dressed all in white from her white leg warmers and wooly tights (sorry, but I have to back her up here... Aberdeen is bloody cold at times) to her skirt made out of lace curtain screens and her sparkly white and silvery top, to her goth-white robotic face.

And boy... Did she squeak. I remember being in the Clydesdale applying for my mortgage. Everything was going very well until Squeak came back from lunch and once again took her plinth. At this point the nice Clydesdale lady made a face I've only ever seen in films where someone is suffering Chinese Water Torture. Squeaky Squeaky. Squeaky Squeaky. Squeak. Squeak. Squeaaaaaaaaaak. Poor bank lady couldn't get out of the mortgage interview room quick enough! Actually... considering the state of the flat I moved in to, I should maybe track Squeak down and thank her for her assistance in pushing my mortgage through...

Sadly, she's either Squeaking in another lucky city, far from here or has gone and gotten herself a proper job, as I've not seen her about Aberdeen for a long, long time...

Big Aggie

Big Aggie isn't Weel Kent.

Although hopefully after this, she will be... because she damn well deserves to be!

Big Aggie first came to my attention in an email forwarded on from a workmate. It's a sound file recorded from the answering machine of a friend of a friend. I'll let you listen to it to decide exactly why she deserves fame...

Classic. Every second of it.

Listen to it here: Big Aggie Speaks!

Warning - contains some foul language! (And I wouldn't have it any other way)

Mr Buggrit

More or less taken out of the pages of Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, Mr Buggrit is (or was...?) a familiar sight to many Aberdonians-about-town.

Aberdeen's very own version of Foul Old Ron was often spotted... Often!? I mean ALWAYS spotted walking about Union Street and surrounding environs with a bit of a stoop, hands clenched behind his back and grinning up into the faces of passersby (with the expression of a 'Here's Johnny' Jack Nicholson) shouting "BUGGER YE!" "BIG PAPS!" or some such similar comedy cry.

He was always in a city centre record shop a friend of mine used to work in, demanding "JIMMY SHAND!!!! JIMMY SHAND????" at the top of his voice, or being spotted in the post office going "AYE! AYE AYE!! AYE YE BUGGER!"

I remember one time he'd gotten hold of a small Mr Blobby Doll and was shuffling up Union Street grinning and going "BLOBBY! BLOBBY? BLOBBY BLOBBY!" to anyone that would listen.

Sadly... I fear he has gone the way of the White Heather Wifie as I've not seen him about for a good few years. Not since I used to live in Stafford Street (Not really giving away my identity here as I'm sure most Aberdonians have had the pleasure of living in Stafford Street at some point in their lives) and would hear him from my bedroom, walking up the street, muttering "Buggerit. Bugger em. Bugger Ye! Bugger it aaaaa!"

He'll be sadly missed.

A Long Overdue Post

OK OK, So I've not posted for ages... I've not had the time or energy to do a bit of Trampspotting (Hmmm. I'm picturing an amusing Page Logo in my head here...) in, like MONTHS!

And it seems people have actually started reading this site :P So I'd like to take the opportunity to thank everyone at...

donstalk.co.uk AFC discussion board
aberdeencruiser.com A discussion board for Boolie Bashers? Cool!
belmont-street.com discussion board
tastelessspoon.com
and of course granitecity.org

... for paying attention and making their various comments at the various sites.

So what am I going to do? Well... OK so first of all I have a few tramps/weel-kent-fowk I've never gotten around to writing about... Mr Buggrit, Squeak, The Markies Street Preachers

I've never written about tramps/weel-kent-fowk of the past (for which I will ask one of the best sources around... My Dad) such as Snuffy Ivy.

and then there's all the suggestions you've all made plus the weel-kent-fowk on Knowhere which I've had my attention drawn to.

I guess I'll get around to them all eventually :D I'd like permission to quote some of you though, especially on some of the tramps and weel-kent-fowk I don't know too much about myself.

Watch This Space!

Local Hero #3 - Um. Spidermin?

Ok, So I've had a bit of a long drawn out absence from bloggin. But now I'm back!

And now the site's getting more hits, some of you may be able to help me out by pointing out who's missing!

In the meantime I thought I'd give you another local hero. Students (I guess) have always been particularly apt at climbing things and sticking traffic cones in peculiar places... (Although the guy arrested for pleasuring himself in public with a traffic cone is probably best not mentioned in any great detail).

At the end of last year, some talented young scamp managed to stick a traffic cone right up on one of the highest gothic spikey-bits of Marischal College on Broad Street.

Truly impressive!

Mrs Cardigans

Mrs Cardigans is often seen about town.

She is old, has dirty grey hair in a ponytail. She walks along crouched over. She wears bandages on her ankles. She gurns.

And she always appears to be wearing at least five cardigans.

Somone once told me she was a prostitute...

Places to Spot Aberdeen Tramps And Ither Weel Kent Fowk

Places to Spot Aberdeen Tramps and Ither Weel Kent Fowk 1

Ootside Markies. Once home to the Reggae Busker and Squeak. Relaxing spot for The White Heather Wifie. Ranting spot for the Religious Ranters. Nice place to see carol singing, university drummers and all sorts of other entertainments. Needs a web cam!

Places to Spot Aberdeen Tramps and Ither Weel Kent Fowk 2

The Castlegate. Has a webcam! Has some dodgy pubs! Has HISTORY!!! I have yet to spot the ghosts of any of our city's past hangings or executions but I have spotted many of the other kind of spirit. Usually being consumed by tramps.

Places to Spot Aberdeen Tramps and Ither Weel Kent Fowk 3

The Bus Station. Yes! You have a lovely collection of spoons there sir. No thanks, I'm ok for Buckfast, cheers! Oh. Here is my bus. Cheerio then! :)

Propane Pete

Aberdeen University used to collect what I can only describe as "Characters." And I'm not particularly talking about the lecturers or the students...

Next to the Auld Toon Cafe (excellent pies!)in about 1993, where the Union Shop is now, there was a shop. It was never open. Indeed, it didn't appear to actually sell anything. The shop window was full of begonias though.


The Begonia Shop now.

And in the doorway of the Begonia Shop stood Propane Pete. As with many of the "characters" round Old Aberdeen, he was rumoured to have been an ex soil science student. My sincerest apologies to the Aberdeen Universtiy Soil Science department. It was not me that labelled you this way.

Propane Pete, or as he was also known, Butane Billy, was a sniffer of substances. See the wit of his name there? Glue... Mr Sheen... You name it. He also used to beg for money. He started off the usual way. *sniffffffff* *puts hand out for money* *sniiiiifffffff* *Puts hand out for money*

He was part of the High Street furniture. However. Things began to get interesting! Oh yes indeed.

For Propane Pete then began to use PROPS.

It started off with some drumsticks he'd picked up from somewhere. He'd bang them together or against the window of the Begonia Shop in a not totally unpleasing way. *ratatatta tat* *snifffffff* *hand out for money*

Then came the trumpet. It was a battered old thing. Like the kind of thing you'd polish and the Genii of the Trumpet would come out and obey your every command. I recall he only ever managed to get one note out of it. Nevertheless it was most entertaining.

*Toooooooottt!* *sniffffff* *Hand out for money* *toooooooot* *hand out for money*

Occasionally he'd just stamp about for money. Possibly this was dancing. I'm not sure. One time he chased some random guy up the street crying "That man is a paedophile!!!" Then he realised he'd left his solvent of choice behind and stopped mid-street with a look of panic on his face. He slunk back to his spot and went back to sniffing and begging.

Sadly, the time came when the Union Shop's opening forced him away from his spot of choice.

I'm delighted to report that his entertaining career was not at this point over! For but a couple of years ago I spotted him up Harriet Street (round the back of Boots and the Bon Accord Centre). And he had a NEW PROP!

He had an old fashioned gramophone. AND he had an old 78 of THE CHARLESTON!!!

And boy did he dance... I'm just so sad I can't portray his skills at the Charleston merely by typing into a blog. Suffice to say it was *shuffle* *scamper* *skip* *sniiiffffff* *hand out for money* *big grin* *flap* *point at crowd* *wink* *shuffle* *skip* *sniiiifffff*

You get the idea.

Legs

And after the post about "Kilt," I feel it is now appropriate to mention "Legs."

Again, not a tramp, busker or loony... Just someone who walks about Aberdeen.

Driving up Holburn Street after a particularly good shopping trip at ASDA's I'll often see a stunning blonde.

And, yes, I am a woman. But this blonde has the hair and legs Caprice would be jealous of.

Cut-off denim hotpants, denim jacket, hair blowing in the wind. A slight swagger. You stare. You gawp. You fight the urge not to slow down.

You overtake.

You gasp. It's a BLOKE! Yes. A bloke that looks like a reject from an 80's metal band. But what legs!

Local Hero #2 - The Graffiti Guerilla

Spotting the Graffiti Guerilla's work accross Aberdeen has become something of a local past time. It appears to have begun in May 2004 with clubs and pubs being targetted. But other work, surely by the same artist, has provided much amusement.

For example, the old petrol station on Holburn Street which closed down a few years ago only to be boarded up. First the words "BARRATT" which had been pasted onto the boarding (presumeably the land has been bought by Barratt Housing) became (seemingly overnight) "BRAT ART."

Then "Decorate This Eyesore" and "Fill this blank space with adverts for pubs and clubs" appeared. I quite enjoyed the stencilled upright Hoover that appeared soon after.

Finally "BRAT ART" changed to "FART." I regret not taking photographs.

Perhaps this article from the local press last August encapsulates the whole splendid shenanigans!

SPRAYER RETURNS TO DAUB UNION STREET MESSAGE
Next Story | Previous Story | Back to list
MARC HORNE

16:00 - 20 August 2004
The Granite City's guerrilla graffiti artist has struck again.

In May buildings across Aberdeen city centre were daubed with slogans and images.

Now the spray can-wielding vandal has made a comeback.

The latest target is the unoccupied former HMV store in Union Street.

A punctuation-free, stencilled message on the boarded-up front of the building states:

"I heard today that graffiti is very expensive to remove all I have to say about this is does it not cost a lot of money to pay people who clean up urine vomit and flyers."

The words "Autumn/ Winter" are also sprayed across the shopfront.

In May public buildings and nightclubs were vandalised with slogans, mostly accompanied by the signature stamp Club Art.

The senior museum assistant at Aberdeen Art Gallery complained to the police after black paint was sprayed outside the building. The words "Life's too short to paint still lives" were sprayed on the disabled entrance.

The phrase: "Kill clubs not seals" was daubed across Aberdeen City Council's headquarters at St Nicholas House.

On the same day, the police were called by a Priory nightclub worker who discovered 3-4 inch-high (10cm) black and white slogans on the front of the Belmont Street venue.

The newly opened Monkey House bar on Union Street had "This should've been a museum" emblazoned across it.

Anyone with information can call police on 0845 6005700 or Crimestoppers on 0800 555111.

Some excellent photos here. Not sure how many of them belong to the Graffitti Guerrilla guy but it's worth a look.

Local Hero # 1 - Peter Dow

And so we come to the first of Aberdeen's Weel Kent Fowk I'm going to cover I feel can come under the heading of "Local Hero."

You've probably seen him making his political stance in and around Aberdeen's city centre with his TA uniform and sandwich board. He's been chucked out of Uni, gently guided away from the Queen, made it onto the BBC's news pages and is a recognisable sight to anyone who doesn't walk about town with their eyes shut.

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls... I'm talking about none other than Aberdeen's very own "Scottish National Standard Bearer," Peter Dow.



Peter has been standing about putting forth his political viewpoints in all weathers for what seems like years. I first encountered him at Aberdeen University when he thrust a leaflet into my hand proclaiming:

Fred West - "PLUMBER"
Beverly Allet - "NURSE"
Maxwell Irvine - "UNIVERSITY PRINCIPLE"

Presumeably he was suggesting that the university principle of the time, the said Maxwell Irvine, was some sort of mass murderer. I really wish I'd kept it now, but at the time, i was told just to throw it away and that this was just part of a long running campaign by Mr Dow against the university bosses and the uni itself.

I have no opinion of my own on the matter - I only know that local rumour tells that after Dow's thesis had him fail his degree there were numerous appeals. The final appeal being the review of his thesis by the university principle. Who failed it. This began a long drawn out battle between the University and Mr Dow - resulting in his being thrown out of the University and eventually being banned from University grounds. So I have been told.

This didn't stop his adventurous nature however, as he was soon found campaigning on the streets of aberdeen against such subjects as... Police Brutality... Good Queen Liz being an enemy... um. Freedom. um... er... and generally fighting the good fight!

In his own words (from his yahoo profile) "Campaigner for justice, freedom and democracy. Republican socialist. Scientist, engineer and like to D.I.Y. "

Imagine my excitement when I found Mr Dow's web page! You can visit it here.

It features an excellent cry of "Freedom!" which just about made me faint. I honestly thought William Wallace had invaded my flat. There are some marvellous photos of Mr Down caught in the act of fighting the good fight. Also there are some inexplicable music samples which I'm not sure tie in with the subject matter.

I think the blogging medium would suit Mr Dow well. I know I, for one, would follow his Campaigning Career and daily movements.

Kilt.

Not a tramp.
Not a busker.
Not a religious ranter and raver.

I think perhaps I need a new category of "people you see walking about Aberdeen." I've seen him round Queens Cross but my boss's daughter saw him at the top of Union Street. She asked questions her father couldn't answer.

Anyway. On to why he is on here.

From the waist up he wears a white shirt, tie, suit jacket and a meek expression. I think he looks a bit like Jeffrey Archer.

From the waist DOWN. He wears a kilt. Not a normal kilt like would get a good Scottish-lass's heart pumping. Not even a nice 21st Century Kilt like what celebrities wear. No.

A kilt like a Japanese School Girl. By which I mean it only just covers his bottom so he can show off his lovely legs to the world. He walks with a jaunty sway.

Apart from that he appears totally normal.

The Aye-Aye Wifie Of King Street

The Aye-Aye Wifie Of King Street is surely in a league of her own!

For she has appeared in the local press... yes! Well. She was mentioned in the Gaudie back when I was at Aberdeen University and one of these people that have a comments page had a good old bitch about her a couple of years ago.

Most encounters with the Aye-Aye Wifie of King Street go like this:

Walking up King Street around Merkland you'll see a wee wifie walking towards you, fag in hand. Getting closer she will make eye contact and smile. "What a friendly auld wifie!" you find yourself thinking.

You meet in the street and she says "Aye-Aye!"

You smile.

"Aye-Aye! I just need 10 pee fur a packet o' fags and a bottle o' Irn Bru!"

The Aye-Aye Wifie of King Street has such simple and admirable needs.

The White Heather Wifie

When the topic of Aberdeen Tramps and Ither Weel Kent Fowk comes up, the White Heather Wifie is mentioned with alarming regularity. Indeed it seems that most people who go down town regularly are familiar with her ways.

However, for those uninitiated amongst you, I will henceforth attempt to portray the typical scene she would be involved in:

Scene: Ootside Markies. It is a fine balmy June afternoon. Shoppers cross
the stage from left to right and from right to left. Occasionally one stops to
buy a paper from the paper mannie. Offstage, a pan pipe band can be heard doing
battle with one of the local preachers. A scaffie stops his sweeping to chat to
a traffic warden and as an old man shuffles slowly towards the traffic lights,
seagulls flee out of his way, only to return to their prize find of a discarded
donut fae the greasy mannie in the market...

Enter stage left: A Tourist and His Girlfriend. Both
hold cameras. They point at the skyline and pause to photograph Union
Street.

Tourist: My what a fine afternoon in this splendid city!

Tourist's Girlfriend: Indeed! Such a joy to admire the granite architectural
marvels the likes of which we have never seen before. See here is a quaint
shopping square. Perhaps we should sit here on these quaint benches and partake
in a spot of refreshment?

Tourist: A perfect idea.

They sit and unwrap their sandwiches. The Tourist takes a photo of the
seagulls who have gathered expectantly at their feet.

Enter stage right: The Heather Wifie. She is aged possibly
between 50 and 60, however the ravages of time and alcohol have not been kind.
Her hair is grey and her face is a worrying shade of purple. She looks haggard
and wind beaten. She wears dark grey "slacks" and the same leather jacket she
wore in the 1980's. In her left hand she clutches some White Heather. Staggering slightly, she approaches the Tourist and the Tourist's
girlfriend.

White Heather Wifie (to tourist's girlfriend): Here you go dearie... Have
some Lucky White Heather! It's lucky you know!

Tourist's Girlfriend (hesitantly): Um... Thanks.

She accepts the heather.

White Heather Wifie: Now that'll be 50 pee!

The White Heather Wifie puts her hand out to demand the money.

Tourist's Girlfriend: Um. we don't have any change. Here you can have it
back.

White Heather Wifie: No! Give me 50 pee!!! Or I'll curse ye!

The Tourist grabs his girlfriend's hand and both make for the safety of
the St Nicholas Centre which we can see in the distance. Exit Tourist and
Tourist's Girlfriend.

The White Heather Wifie scrabbles on the ground for the white heather
which has dropped to the ground.

Fin.

Sadly, it has been some time since the White Heather Wifie has been seen! It was rumoured that she was caught "in flagrante" in public with another tramp but aside from that nobody seems to have seen her lately.

So it looks like I'll never be able to get a photo of her for you.

TRAMP WATCH

Have you seen White Heather Wifie lately or do you know of her whereabouts? If so, email me and let me know!

The Countesswells Hermit

Now for my second Aberdeen Tramp or Weel Kent Person, I could have gone for someone easy to describe... but today we were talking about how much we'd all love to just quit the rat race and go off and be at one with nature.

I think that in most cases this meant opening an organic brewery, or perhaps moving out to Strathdon or wherever and raising chickens in a cottage, cackling and having 15 cats. I just wanted to be a Hermit.

You know. I'd need a shack in the woods... An outfit made out of dead rabbits and some dog shit to throw at anyone who attempted to integrate me back into society.

Then I remembered The Countesswells Hermit!

The Countesswells Hermit is gaunt and leathery skinned but I feel he is a very learned man.

Most days he walks down the Countesswells Road, past the Seafield shops and towards Mannofield Church. There, behind the dyke near the new houses, he will find himself a spot on the grass, sit down, lean back against his enormous backpack (which may contain all his belongings but I would prefer to think contains the secrets of the universe) and here he reads the Press and Journal (or the Peenge as it's known in my social circle) or a large book, the cover of which is as leathery as his skin.

He walks everywhere. He is very fit, sometimes he is gaunt. He often walks all the way in to town. I've seen him in the central library,. Looking at newspapers and books.

He has stubble, he has cloudy spectacles. He holds himself humbly.


Where does he live?
What's in the backpack?
Why does he do it? Why does he live the way he does?

The world needs Hermits.
Some day I may go and join him!

The Gilcomston Tramp Part II

Now this particular tramp is a proper tramp. This is what I'm aiming for with this site. Not just your average begging-bloke-and-a-blanket. I think I should make a distinction. I'm not really interested in character-free beggars. Just Characters.

I like him. He's always there. Most of the time you pass he looks blearily at you and may even give a wee nod.

Mainly, he is always there... I think he's always been there! I bet in these books of old photos of Aberdeen that you buy for your dad roundabout Christmas time from the Press and Journal shop, there's a photo from 1941. The same guy. Sitting on the steps with a wee drink, doffing his flat cap.

If he's not on the church steps, he'll be a bit further up (sometimes up to the traffic lights or down to the banks. More often or not, you'll see him though.

Sometimes if I walk past and he's not there... I get worried and hope he's ok and just off buying some more drink and hasn't gone to the great cardboard box in the sky...

Now Gilcomston Church opened again on Sunday after its refurbishments. Hopefully they'll let him stay when he's not in the way. As you can see, he's made himself really comfy!

The Gilcomston Tramp (aka My Favourite Tramp)

Well on Saturday I went off into town with my digital camera. Off I went down Union Street, hoping to find someone of note.

Of course I got distracted by Christmas Shopping and I didn't make it down to "Ootside Markies" (which is practically a goldmine when it comes to hunting for Weel Kent Fowk) until it was dark. And I didn't fancy using my flash just in case I was rumbled as not just taking photos of lovely granite buildings!

Instead, while it was still dark, I headed straight for where I knew I would find what I was looking for. I headed for Gilcomston Church.

Now it's very seldom that you can describe a building, or perhaps a street, just using the tramps that sit around it. I was once taken to Tramp Park in Manchester by a lovely young man and would recommend it to anyone taking a tour of that fine city! In fact, it was twice this weekend when directions needed to be given and My Favourite Tramp came in handy as a point of location.

"Where is "The Filling Station"?" Go down Union Street from Holburn and it's just after the church with the tramp outside it.
"Ah yes! I know the one you mean!
"Which one is Summer Street?" You know the street that goes up the side of the church with the tramp outside it?
"Aaah yes! The one with the tramp!"

And here he is in his natural habitat:


My Favourite Tramp

Welcome!

Welcome Potential Readers!

To this, my first post on Aberdeen Tramps and Other Weel Kent Fowk.

The existance of this site is all due to a conversation we were having at work the other day about people you see about our fair city, Aberdeen, day in day out. Usually Tramps but also your buskers, street performers and religious ranters...

Sadly the discussion turned to people you don't see anymore, and how terrible it'd be if nobody was chronicling (how the hell do you spell that word) the lives of these people.

The White Heather Wifie...
The Aye Aye Wifie of King Street
The Squeaky White Statue Wifie Outside Markies.
That bloody brilliant Reggae Busker outside Markies
The marvellous Amazonas and their pan pipes.

You get the general picture.

So today I intend to go out into town today with my camera and see if I can find any of them. Just so that if anyone is having this conversation in 20 years time, "Fit ever happened to that auld tramp mannie that sat ootside thon church on Union Street?" Then they'll be able to use this site to reminisce.

I'm off out into town :)