Galashiels – a **** town “in waiting”

Galashiels, “Gala” or “Gaaaaawwlll-ey” as it more often referred to by the local in-breds, is located in the Scottish Borders, between Edinburgh and the English Border.

Firstly –a bit of background – the Borders. This is an area comprising some 1500 square miles of outstanding natural beauty, and has a similar topography and scenic characteristics to the Lake District. There is no major central town in the Borders, just a smattering of smallish towns, which grew, many years ago from small historic settlements…..

Nice it may be, BUT, there are two major blots on the majestic landscape, these being the **** towns of 1: Hawick and 2: Galashiels. We will dispense firstly with Hawick, which is a complete law unto itself.

Hawick’s entry to the illustrious pages of this site can only be written from “those within” as most residents choose never to leave, and those outside choose to just avoid the dump in the first place. Therefore “an outsider” cannot even begin to describe this “little **** haven”. Dispensing quickly with Hawick brings us smartly onto Galashiels……

Gala’ already has a small *********** of ****’s, most prevalent in the evenings, when they manifest themselves and can be seen “cruising” the bus-station car park and town centre in their “I’ve seen the fast and the furious (twice)” black windowed ***-****-chariots, Corsa’s, fiesta’s and (strangely) lowered Mondeo’s!

Immediately recognisable from the thump-thump gangsta rap emanating from their overtly large (and inevitably cheap), un-branded Sunday market subwoofer assemblies, “tricked-up” as they should be with 5-bob blue neons. These trainer and tracksuit clad Neanderthals are in their own private insular paradise. They are able to parade their ill-conceived automotive designs (to those who really couldn’t care less), at very low speeds (for MAX effect), due to the fact that all Gala’s roads are completely shagged out and in need of some serious attention. This “Halfords-DTM-lookalike” spoiler wrecking situation is exasperated, to the benefit of the **** cruuuuuuise mentality, by intensely slow-moving traffic, due in no small part to the proliferation of middle-class flat caps and blue rinses crawling around the town’s roads in their Micra’s, oblivious to all other road users. These currently outnumber the ***** by some 50 to 1, so the “****” have some serious ground to make up if they really want to get noticed and ultimately, become the ruling master-class!

Thankfully, “traditional” ****’s are still in the minority in the town, as most of the younger local inter-breds, being a semi-rural community, have yet to progress any further up the cap-wearing evolutionary scale than camouflage-combats, wellies, and a beanie hat proudly proclaiming their favourite brand of farm implement. Most have yet to experience life outside the “town boundaries”, (other than the occasional after-dark trip to surrounding towns for the purpose of staging “territory fights), so have yet to experience the full wealth of delights that comprise global ****-dom. The town is also, as yet, largely undiscovered by stan’s or Illegals and is still 100% *****-free.

This is of course, a situation which could rapidly change, as the **** community spreads its wings from the inner-cities and discovers the delights that this small town can offer. It already possesses all the necessary ingredients to become Scotland’s ****-tastic epicentre and can boast all of the usual low-quality suspects – I.e.

 The Borders one and only McDonalds (complete with drive-thru).
 The obligatory Tesco, Iceland, Farmfoods & Matalan, with an ASDA coming soon.
 A Poundstretcher converted from, what used to be, a very nice historic building
 Various seedy “clubs” cashin on with “White Lightning” and “Bud” happy hours.
 An enormous dole office, (which will soon be knocked down to make way for an enlarged Tesco)!
 Mackays (Scottish low-Q, “suits all” clothing chain)
 More than its “fair share” of charity shops, chip shops and tanning studios

Amongst this capitalistic mediocrity that constitutes Galashiels’ contribution to retail excellence, it is a sad fact that the most exclusive shop in the whole town is an equal tie between Argos and “good old Woollies”.

Having moved here myself some years ago, to escape “pikeyborough” which was rapidly becoming ******** by all manner of filth, poison and ****, I have since wondered why a place like Gala’ with so much obvious **** potential, has yet to realise its full potential. The answer is very simple: no-one “dahn saarf” has heard of it, and it ain’t easy to get to, especially if your only vehicular option is an “almost-certainly twokked”, rusting XR2 with out-of-date tax, 6 figures on the clock, a drainpipe exhaust and a couple of balding “part-worns” at the front.

The good news for the “emergent ****” is that in the near future, (if the authorities EVER stop talking about it and just get on with building it), a new rail link will be constructed between the town and Edinburgh.

With Scotland’s capital being located conveniently on the east-coast line, this new rail-link will mean that Gala’ is just 4 hours, a soggy “deep fill” sandwich, 6 cans of supermarket lager, and 1 weeks dole money away from overcrowded, ****-******** cess-pits in the south such as, Darlo’, Donnie, Brum, Nottingham, Peterborough, Leicester etc.

“Must see” Attractions for the visiting ****?

1. The aforementioned bus-station car park, where you can while away literally hours, watching and listening to the local rat-boy community discussing important issues: E.g. the importance of exhaust diameter, new baseball cap styles (style may be the wrong word), celeb-*********, elizabeth duke, the dubble-ya-pee-cee’s of “me new amp”, the latest introductions to maccies 99p menu and “mobies”…
2. Langlee “chippy” – quite probably the worst chip-shop in humanity, situated conveniently amongst the “social housing” tower blocks with nasty plastic “wood-effect” windows that overlook the town and are totally NOT in keeping with the surrounding area. Surely, a mecca for the new social under-class.
3. The “Glue Pot” – seedy back-street watering hole, purveyors of industrial strength cider & lager, and Gala’s centre of oft-repeated karaoke “excellence”.

Applying the spirit of the movie, Field of Dreams’ “if you build it, they will come” principle, Galashiels has placed itself firmly at the forefront of potential “migration and habitation” destinations for the UK’s ever-emerging **** masses.

Only today, in passing, I saw my very first Galashiels “fubu” hoodie – I think therefore, it may be time to consider another relocation, before the John Deere “beanie” finally gives way to the global onslaught of Burberry and Von Dutch!

Galashiels – a **** town “in waiting”

Galashiels, “Gala” or “Gaaaaawwlll-ey” as it more often referred to by the local in-breds, is located in the Scottish Borders, between Edinburgh and the English Border.

Firstly –a bit of background – the Borders. This is an area comprising some 1500 square miles of outstanding natural beauty, and has a similar topography and scenic characteristics to the Lake District. There is no major central town in the Borders, just a smattering of smallish towns, which grew, many years ago from small historic settlements…..

Nice it may be, BUT, there are two major blots on the majestic landscape, these being the **** towns of 1: Hawick and 2: Galashiels. We will dispense firstly with Hawick, which is a complete law unto itself.

Hawick’s entry to the illustrious pages of this site can only be written from “those within” as most residents choose never to leave, and those outside choose to just avoid the dump in the first place. Therefore “an outsider” cannot even begin to describe this “little **** haven”. Dispensing quickly with Hawick brings us smartly onto Galashiels……

Gala’ already has a small *********** of ****’s, most prevalent in the evenings, when they manifest themselves and can be seen “cruising” the bus-station car park and town centre in their “I’ve seen the fast and the furious (twice)” black windowed ***-****-chariots, Corsa’s, fiesta’s and (strangely) lowered Mondeo’s!

Immediately recognisable from the thump-thump gangsta rap emanating from their overtly large (and inevitably cheap), un-branded Sunday market subwoofer assemblies, “tricked-up” as they should be with 5-bob blue neons. These trainer and tracksuit clad Neanderthals are in their own private insular paradise. They are able to parade their ill-conceived automotive designs (to those who really couldn’t care less), at very low speeds (for MAX effect), due to the fact that all Gala’s roads are completely shagged out and in need of some serious attention. This “Halfords-DTM-lookalike” spoiler wrecking situation is exasperated, to the benefit of the **** cruuuuuuise mentality, by intensely slow-moving traffic, due in no small part to the proliferation of middle-class flat caps and blue rinses crawling around the town’s roads in their Micra’s, oblivious to all other road users. These currently outnumber the ***** by some 50 to 1, so the “****” have some serious ground to make up if they really want to get noticed and ultimately, become the ruling master-class!

Thankfully, “traditional” ****’s are still in the minority in the town, as most of the younger local inter-breds, being a semi-rural community, have yet to progress any further up the cap-wearing evolutionary scale than camouflage-combats, wellies, and a beanie hat proudly proclaiming their favourite brand of farm implement. Most have yet to experience life outside the “town boundaries”, (other than the occasional after-dark trip to surrounding towns for the purpose of staging “territory fights), so have yet to experience the full wealth of delights that comprise global ****-dom. The town is also, as yet, largely undiscovered by stan’s or Illegals and is still 100% *****-free.

This is of course, a situation which could rapidly change, as the **** community spreads its wings from the inner-cities and discovers the delights that this small town can offer. It already possesses all the necessary ingredients to become Scotland’s ****-tastic epicentre and can boast all of the usual low-quality suspects – I.e.

 The Borders one and only McDonalds (complete with drive-thru).
 The obligatory Tesco, Iceland, Farmfoods & Matalan, with an ASDA coming soon.
 A Poundstretcher converted from, what used to be, a very nice historic building
 Various seedy “clubs” cashing in with “White Lightning” and “Bud” happy hours.
 An enormous dole office, (which will soon be knocked down to make way for an enlarged Tesco)!
 Mackays (Scottish low-Q, “suits all” clothing chain)
 More than its “fair share” of charity shops, chip shops and tanning studios

Amongst this capitalistic mediocrity that constitutes Galashiels’ contribution to retail excellence, it is a sad fact that the most exclusive shop in the whole town is an equal tie between Argos and “good old Woollies”.

Having moved here myself some years ago, to escape “pikeyborough” which was rapidly becoming ******** by all manner of filth, poison and ****, I have since wondered why a place like Gala’ with so much obvious **** potential, has yet to realise its full potential. The answer is very simple: no-one “dahn saarf” has heard of it, and it ain’t easy to get to, especially if your only vehicular option is an “almost-certainly twokked”, rusting XR2 with out-of-date tax, 6 figures on the clock, a drainpipe exhaust and a couple of balding “part-worns” at the front.

The good news for the “emergent ****” is that in the near future, (if the authorities EVER stop talking about it and just get on with building it), a new rail link will be constructed between the town and Edinburgh.

With Scotland’s capital being located conveniently on the east-coast line, this new rail-link will mean that Gala’ is just 4 hours, a soggy “deep fill” sandwich, 6 cans of supermarket lager, and 1 weeks dole money away from overcrowded, ****-******** cess-pits in the south such as, Darlo’, Donnie, Brum, Nottingham, Peterborough, Leicester etc.

“Must see” Attractions for the visiting ****?

1. The aforementioned bus-station car park, where you can while away literally hours, watching and listening to the local rat-boy community discussing important issues: E.g. the importance of exhaust diameter, new baseball cap styles (style may be the wrong word), celeb-*********, elizabeth duke, the dubble-ya-pee-cee’s of “me new amp”, the latest introductions to maccies 99p menu and “mobies”…
2. Langlee “chippy” – quite probably the worst chip-shop in humanity, situated conveniently amongst the “social housing” tower blocks with nasty plastic “wood-effect” windows that overlook the town and are totally NOT in keeping with the surrounding area. Surely, a mecca for the new social under-class.
3. The “Glue Pot” – seedy back-street watering hole, purveyors of industrial strength cider & lager, and Gala’s centre of oft-repeated karaoke “excellence”.

Applying the spirit of the movie, Field of Dreams’ “if you build it, they will come” principle, Galashiels has placed itself firmly at the forefront of potential “migration and habitation” destinations for the UK’s ever-emerging **** masses.

Only today, in passing, I saw my very first Galashiels “fubu” hoodie – I think therefore, it may be time to consider another relocation, before the John Deere “beanie” finally gives way to the global onslaught of Burberry and Von Dutch!