Nighttime was the best time if you grew up in Airdrie

Growing up in a small town like Airdrie meant that you had to be able to provide your own entertainment. As a child, this wasn’t difficult – who didn’t love to make potions and play in the mud at the age of five, right? But Friday nights as a teenager were always the worst, wanting to see your pals but having no money and you couldn’t be bothered with the questions when you asked your parents for some change: “Where are you going?” “Who with?” “When will you be home?” In all honesty, it wasn’t really worth it.

There are three Airdrie classics: Ayr Drive Park, Karma and of course, the legendary Friday night Ice Skating Disco at Time Capsule. Ask anybody my age about any of these and I promise you’ll hear some stories…

It’s not always this pretty…

Ayr Drive Park

A football park that became home to fifty-odd school students every single Friday night – much to the disappointment of the neighbours. “Meet ye down the park?” was a phrase that every Airdrie teenager longed to hear as they left school on Friday – justification that the night was going ahead.

Karma

Then there was Karma: the only place in the whole of Scotland that accepted ankle warmers and luminous face paint and funky sunglasses as appropriate indoor attire. An underage venue that was notorious for its live bands and crap atmosphere.

Time Capsule

Starting with happiness and an Ice Blast, and ending with skint ankles and the feeling you could take on the world because you didn’t lose any fingers – a night out at Time Capsule Ice Skating Disco was the place to be if you could find a spare five pounds and convince your Dad for a lift.

Time Capsule was the place to be (possibly still is?) because for just a fiver you could have the time of your life. The night would usually go like this: you’d meet everybody outside at the pillars at half seven, skip the queue (or attempt to), get your Ice Blast, head down to the ice rink. You’d squeeze your feet into the provided skates that smelled like someone had curled up and died in them (or if you were a regular, you would have your own) and start to build up your courage on the ice.

Falling over was a cardinal sin – if you went to the Ice Skating Disco and didn’t have your own skates it was obvious you were an amateur so the last thing you wanted to do was fall over. Especially since wearing gloves or any protective clothing was “uncool”, so falling over and putting your hands out would not only be embarrassing but it could end with you losing fingers. Gripping onto the side for dear life was not only the easiest way to stop yourself falling, it was also a hell of a lot safer.

After a few hours of falling with a little skating, people would gradually start to congregate in the centre of the ice and that’s when the real fun would start. The music would turn up, and those that were not regulars would leave; the disco lights would come on and the party would begin. I mean, it’s not really a disco without disco lights is it?

At nine, the lights would come on and it would be time to try and make your way off the ice – falling at this stage of the night could have been fatal with fifty odd teenagers pushing each other to get to the fireball gobstoppers first. Then, it was home to bed with the occasional stop off at Karma or Ayr Drive Park first.

Airdrie just wouldn’t be Airdrie without these classics.