As someone with a lifelong fear of creepy-crawlies, bugs and especially spiders – spawn of Satan – I am aware you are supposed to face your fears.
Which I do – by dropping a heavy book on anything with six or eight legs that invades my personal space. Welcome to Chez Begbie, allow me to introduce you to Next catalogue.
It’s the scuttling and the legs and the general mingingness of these creatures. However, last week, I took coping with my phobia to a new level by not just facing my fears, but tucking into them.
Yeah, I ate bugs – albeit with excellent whisky chasers. A bit like an arachnophobe Hannibal Lecter: “A tarantula tried to scare me once. I ate his legs with a fine Talisker – ffff, ffff, ffff.”
This was all down to me being a member of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society. They put out a call for three “mavericks” to take part in a unique tasting, pairing crunchy critters with three drams as part of the society’s 40th anniversary celebrations, on a theme of embracing the unorthodox.
In a moment of madness, I thought I would volunteer for a laugh. Sure, bugs… but free whisky, though.
Next thing I know, I’m sitting in SMWS HQ at the vaults in Leith with two fellow mavericks – hello Lannie and Steve – staring at a plate with a white napkin over it. Sure, free whisky… but bugs, though.
On the plus side, this pairing meant the chance to have a masterclass in whisky tasting from SMWS ambassador Olaf Meier. I learned more about malt in that hour than in my previous years of tippling.
But you can chat about the virtues of a dram all you like. At some point, that white napkin is coming off.
When it did, I was confronted by a plate of mealworms. The only reason I didn’t run screaming out the door was because they weren’t moving. I still couldn’t look at them, but eventually they had to go in my mouth.
A once-in-a-lifetime experience
Eyes closed, inner zen engaged, I bit down. The verdict? A bit like stale Bombay mix without the spices. Ditto, the crickets that were eyeballing me. Even the bonus scorpion round at the end – I had the stinger – was just salty and nothing worse.
As long as I pretended they were all crunchy snacks – and didn’t look down – I could cope.
Until the locust. A big one sat on my plate, looking exactly like what it was: a dead bug with wings. It was mingin’ squared. I had to steel myself to pop it in my mouth.
In, bite down, and there were all the constituent parts of locust in my mouth. Dry, dusty, with bits of wings and legs in my teeth. I kept a straight face, but my inner zen was hunched over a bucket retching. Gads.
It took a bit (fair bit) more malt to steady my nerves, but I was done. A once-in-a-lifetime experience was over.
Tell you what, I’m never doing that again. Has it cured my arachnophobia? Ask the next spider that comes into Begbie Towers. You’ll find it under the Next catalogue.
Scott Begbie is a former journalist and editor for The Press & Journal and Evening Express
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