Menooooooooopppphhhhh... On Da Nose

An event at the Mac Clan House on Monday, May 4th...

The Wiltshire man was delivering dad's ready-meals (they help out when the helper is past the helping stage in the kitchen...), but rather unusually, rang the doorbell. Normally the order goes straight into the freezer downstairs, no fuss. I answered and the cheery fellow said, 'You have a problem.'

As he was telling me this, a rather pungent odour was reaching my nostrils. "Hmmm," thinks I, "that's fourthful,,, err,,, forceful..."  The cheery fellow continued, 'The drain at the front there is overflowing - with sewage!'

Thanking him for the alert, I ran out to find that, indeed, there was a river of effluent bubbling up from the gulley grate which just happens to be outside our driveway, but is not 'ours' per se. I dashed back inside to alert father and Mac2 and to locate emergency numbers. First was to alert the council, as they are responsible for the gulleys (aka storm drains). Pressing each "1" when requested by the auto voice, at the sixth time I reached - 'this number is not active due to COVID-19'.

EMERGENCY NUMBER FFS!!! (Steady YAM, this is family viewing...)

I duly filled in the electronic form.

Then rang Scottish Water, who is in charge of sewage as well. Three rings and I was on with Margo. A voice that spoke of being close to my own age, but with the added depth of end to end fags and maybe a dram or three. 'You're speaking with Margo, how can we help?'

I explained the scenario. 'Och aye, that disnae soond richt. Let me check..... nope, nobody has yet reported it. Can I take your details as the reporter? Good - ' and we went through the address and phone number thing. But not directly, for Margo was on for a chat. 'Do you watch "Sewage Men" on Channel 5? No? Och hen, you'd think ah widnae want to wi' this being my work and all - but really, the things they have to contend wi'. Ye just widnae believe whit they bring oot o' they drains!!!'

Oh, trust me Margo, I have  quite the imagination...

After some giggles and important info exchange, I hung up secure in the knowledge that Scottish Water was on their game. Barely two hours later a van pulled up outside. I went down to find Bill, who checked that I was the reporter. Another very chatty and cheery type who took one look at the flow and shook his head sagely. 'Aye, that's gonna require the muckle great beastie. I'll gie them a call and they should be here later today. The trouble is not with this drain, but the main one.' He pointed to the middle of the road. How long have we lived here? Somehow, I'd never noticed that central drain.

It was barely another two hours - indeed it was shortly after lunch, as we were bringing dad back into the lounge, that the muckle great beastie arrived. What ensued kept father engrossed for well over an hour.

The drain cover had not been removed for many years, it was apparent, for the two of them used full force to get the thing removed - that itself took them nearly 20 minutes. Then the 'eel' was sent into the depths. Due to blockage, initially, there was backflow (last image) up out of the main manhole and sending a torrent of yuck down the road. Eventually, the eel got a grip and worked through the block. They worked it this way and that until the water was running clear. In between, they removed items of detritus that clearly didn't belong in the drain. I flashbacked to Margo and her telly show. Let me simply say that there is a young family up the road from us... the rule of thumb, I feel, is that just about nothing should be going down the toilet that isn't directly out of the body. Even toilet paper is a problem. I saw that with my own eyes...

Which is an irony, given recent events.

Anyway. The older fellow here came to the door to report job done and explain what they found. That was free entertainment for dad that didn't involve the television. It was a variation on the monotony of lockdown. And it is a big tick to Scottish Water for speed and courtesy.

Source: Google Images