What have Arbroath Smokies, Craster kippers and Bob got in common? That's right, they've all been said to stink a bit, aren't particularly fashionable and they're not to everybody's taste.
We already know this, though, so, with nothing else to do on a Sunday, let's try and get to the source and cure these aversions.
In that time it will be seen to be as much about the flax as the fish, as well as eyes down for a game of obscure, Scottish football grounds bingo... Hoose!
Hill Street Car Park won't leave you with the blues on a Sunday since it's free, you see. Head onto High Street and turn left to wander down to the harbour, like you didn't know there was one already?
There's an early temptation to be had at the Old Brewhouse, a building that bore the brunt of a bombardment of cannonballs in 1781.
Flying under the French Flag, Captain William Fall, nothing more than a pirate, really, held the town to ransom for £30,000, but today's restaurant and B&B's fees are far more reasonable.
With a little bit of a whiff of the fishing industry along Old Shore Head, the filleters now number fewer than 50, and a lot of the landings have been given over to the leisurely.
There's a different kind of dwindling stock at the west end of the harbour, the now-nearly extinct Scottish Visitor Centre - thanks Gwen and James .
This modern amenity was a victim of falling customer numbers and people's preference for the smartphone, so you'll have to head down to Dundee to be regionally, and personally, informed.
The Old Boatyard Restaurant, however, remains very much open with posh-noshter Michel Roux Jr, no less, popping in for a fish supper fairly recently.
While they're hardly competing, Michelin™-star-wise, their smoky take on arancini is a clue to owner Marco Macari's Italian roots, probably.
It's not known if Mr. Macari sources the smoked stuff locally but it's likely given there are still 10-or-so smokehouses in town.
To be legitimately labelled as Arbroath Smokies, they have to originate within a five-mile radius, but them EU regulations will be out of the window come the morning of 29th March 2019, sorry, 1st November, sorry, the 12th of whenever! Eh?
Then they'll be mass produced in Manchester, maybe, although none can be made more traditionally, surely, than those fresh out of M & M Spink's outhouse whose Viking family lineage all adds to the authenticity, probably.
Beyond, what was, the Visitor Centre a coastal lea is home to Arbroath's Signal Tower Museum.
Originally the shore station for the still-operational Bell Rock Lighthouse, it now houses some of Wille Faul's balls and all manner of fishy history although you'll have to take other peoples' word for that.
No time for that today for there's a far more interesting and adjacent attraction at Gayfield Park, where a different kind of sphere can often be seen flying through the atmosphere.
Home to Arbroath Football Club F.C., it's the site of their historic 36-0 victory in 1885 over Bon Accord, a team from Aberdeen for whom the horse and cart trip back must've been a hoot?
That's still a British record score although some fairweather NUFC fans are fearing something similar on the next excursion to the Etihad, or even on Steve Bruce's return to Aston Villa, actually.
It was a bad day all round for players from the Granite City. Aberdeen Rovers lost 35-0 down the road in Dundee making for one epic episode of Match of the Day, sorry Sportscene up here, that night.
Just beyond the football ground, West Links Fun Park is a fine public space with a playground and a paddling pool. It's also home to Kerr's Miniature Railway, the oldest of it's type in... Scotland!
It only runs for half-a-mile, unlike the full-size InterCity 125s flying past on the East Coast Main Line. As for the scale, well, it doesn't even trouble the top ten, tiny-wise.
Bit of a shame, then, that it's now no more, closed in 2020 due to a decline in numbers. It's still worthy of a mention because who doesn't enjoy finding this out by clicking on links to miniature railways?
Careful now as you cross the busy A92 to pass by some indistinct dwellings but, up on the left, the eye is caught by St. Vigeans Residential Home.
That's the name of the nearby village founded in the 8th-century by an early-Christian group who may have been more of a monastic cult, really. Isolated and confined to a life of meaningless routine, it's not thought the monks fared any better than the residents although that's a joke, of course, and remember, St. Vigeans care so you don't have to.
Just up and along is another imposing building, the Church of St. Thomas of Canterbury, which isn't St. Vigeans and is more RC than Methodist or monastery.
For no other reason than its address is given as Dishlandtown Street and you get to it via Mount Zion Brae. If only the local Wetherspoon™s had been so imaginative with their naming but more on that in a minute.
Head further along Millgate Loan to turn left up West Port to an area known as, erm, Westport, or Westport Village if you'd rather.
Home to largely local and independent vendors, a recent campaign to encourage locals to shop, well, locally is centred on this street, so that'll learn 'em down at the big Morrison™s and Lidl™s, hopefully.
One of the big selling points of Westport is the architecture, sprouting up around the railway and still surrounding the town's train station.
You can get directly to London from here in six hours and one minute, which is a minute more than it took Bon Accord to trundle back to Aberdeen in 1885, probably.
It's six-and-a-half hours on average or just over nine if you plump for a pillow on the sleeper, zzzz.
Ruinous-looking doings loom in the, not-too-distant, distance, but before you cross the dual carriageway over to Lidl™s, some unexpected, ex-workings that weren't hitched to the haddock.
Millgate Loan was an earlier clue and this former cotton mill - thanks Anne - looks to be the largest of what's left of at least 30 once employing several thousand, tactile with the textile, hands in town.
The Cutty Sark's sails were cut from the sturdy cloth, they say, so the old industry of Arbroath wasn't just about what went underwater.
Not that Tiddles will be getting any treats or tidbits today, T Browns & Sons' pet shop is shut but, since it's a Sunday, that's pretty much typical of every provincial high street.
The Old & Abbey Parish Church, on the the other hand, is open for business, so yes, Arbroath has an abbey, thanks for asking.
Right before the dual carriageway on the way in from Aberdeen, all your favourite, family-baked savouries and sweets, even if a Forfar 'bridie' is just a Scottish pasty, really. It looks like a 24/7 operation and there are bouncers on the door to manage the pie-mad, post-pub crowd.
A downside to this arrangement, however, was when a very different kind of sausage roll was on display one night, making for headline stuff in the local rag.
Meanwhile, back at the abbey, Historic Environment Scotland™ will demand a fair few pounds for your entrance, but their hedge isn't quite so high to stop you copping a peek for free.
Highlights include the 'Round-O', an impressive bit of early brickwork that once had some glass before Bell Rock went on to outshine it, lighthouse-wise.
When King Eddie II, of England, got more than he bargained for at Bannockburn, a victorious Robert the Bruce campaigned for Scottish independence without resorting to a referendum. You might want to pull up a chair...
The Abbot of Arbroath penned a lengthy letter in Latin in the hope the pope would reverse the Vatican's view on King Bob's rightful reign and Scotland's subjugation.
That didn't happen, however, for another eight years, by which time Eddie III fancied his chances, and normal service was soon resumed over the border. Ultimately then, the 1320 Declaration of Arbroath made for as much wasted ink as there was on the super-toned torsos of that last lot who pitched up on Love Island.
An important period in Scottish history has just been skimmed over here, but it's this flunker's version of events, so you'll have to give Historic Environment Scotland™ those pounds to be filled in on the full story.
Either that or you could start watching Game of Thrones, who look to have nicked the best bits before going on to add some dragons. No we haven't, actually, so please stop asking SlyBob if we've seen it, thanks.
Arbroath's main drag runs down from the abbey and east of Brothick Water with Aberbrothick how some old-timers can still be heard to pronounce the place, they say.
Most of the mid-19th-century architecture is intact and adapted for the likes of Nickel n' Dime, a chain of discount homeware stores you won't find south of Perth.
This provider of the low-priced and pliable has already been noticed in Nairn, Elgin, Inverness, Blairgowrie and Montrose but the name is, quite frankly, unfathomable, not that they've become an obsession, honestly.
How about something a little more 'on brand'... MacPlastic™s? Macca's Placcas?
Additional highlights include the Webster Memorial Theatre, a converted arts venue acting as Abroath's 'West End', and also staging other exhibitions and performances.
Just through the gap there, a glimpse of the old Corn Exchange and now home to, yes, you've guessed, it's a Wetherspoon™s.
Spoons have a tradition of naming their pubs based on the history of the place or the old building they invariably inhabit. The inevitable offering in a settlement of this size is called the Corn Exchange because, well, that was the original function back in the 1850s.
It seems the corn didn't really catch on and only operated in that guise for a couple of years, but a later conversion to the Olympic Picture Palace cinema, wasn't considered worthy?
There are no awards for the nearly-out-of-date ale, and the Director of Contrived Waterhole Branding was clearly on holiday or couldn't be bothered to get out of bed that day. Whoever deputised on the decision is getting a scornful (0/5) for the corny lack of imagination, and they might as well have stayed in bed themselves that morning.
As for inside? It's a Wetherspoon™s man!
It's just five minutes back to the car during which time this cultural commentator has clocked that the Wetherspoon™s building is indeed unique and possesses some suddenly realised significance...
Yes, it's the only place in Arbroath, these days, where all the smoking is being done ootside.