By Kevin Addies

I jumped off the bus at Kirkcaldy and straight into the bakers to get a couple of steak bridies. Even in the rain, I wasn’t caring as I did the Scottish version of al fresco dining - eating hastily on the hoof - biting into the first bridie, savouring every fibre, every molecule of the meaty pastry perfection. I paused for breath and that small second was all it took for a seagull to swoop straight in and swipe the bridie right out of my hand. It was so deft I barely saw it happen and the next thing I knew there was the said gull across the street, tearing into the remains of my bridie. I heard a boy go "Whoa!" in awe at what had just unfolded. I was just dazed, stunned, and for a moment I could have burst into tears since I had been looking forward to steak bridies all the way from Glasgow, no, for days. Instead, I merely offered a few choice expletives, laughed, then walked on like a good sensible adult. But I guarded the second one with my life and scranned it almost in one, watching left and right as I did so just to make sure.