Category Archives: self-service

Bothy Bakery

5th April 2024 billpaterson1@me.com 5 Comments

The Bothy Bakery is in Grantown-on-Spey in the Scottish Highlands, so how did we end up here? And before you jump to conclusions although this is the heart of whisky country, it’s not that. Normally we go to Ness Estates near Inverness for Easter with the family. This year, however, we

decided on Delnabo Lodge near Tomintoul, the UK’s highest village. At 1200 feet it’s a risky strategy in March/April when there was still a risk of snow. Have you ever tried rolling eggs in snow? Anyway, we drove there and the family all arrived safely from a combination of Inverness and Edinburgh airports. Delnabo Estate covers 3000 acres and the Lodge can accommodate up to 18 guests in total luxury. There’s only 13 in the family so we invited a family friend to join us.

He said he would travel by train and meet us in Grantown-on-Spey. That’s why we are here! Couldn’t find the station so we asked a lovely old lady in the street who said “There’s no station here but there bloody well should be” smiled and walked on. Turned out the nearest station was in Aviemore, 14 miles away. Our friend doesn’t use a mobile phone (we know??) so we were in a bit of a quandary. True to form, he just turned up having taken a bus from Aviemore.

External view of the Bothy Bakery, Grantown-on-Spey — Grandkids perusing the cakes

Grantown is a nice place with lots of little independent shops and craft places. There’s lots of cafés but a young chap in one of the art galleries told us the best cafe was the Bothy Bakery, in a local industrial estate. Didn’t sound too exciting but we decided to give it a go anyway. Turned out not to be a café as such but a bakery with a few tables and chairs outside in the car park. No worries, it was a nice day and all the food including the scones looked great.

The Kiwi owner founded the very successful Mountain Cafe in Aviemore several years ago but it didn’t survive COVID. He decided to reinvent his operation and set up the Bothy Bakery, here in his home town. There’s plenty people working in the bakery and they deliver everything to the surrounding area so it seems to be successful. No airs and graces here and no cream either! Our scone was placed in a brown paper bag and we went outside with what they described as some Kick Ass coffee. There was also some prepacked Irish butter and a plastic tub of strawberry jam in the bag. The scone was actually very nice and it was lovely to be sitting out in the sun with all the family. However, our granddaughters abandoned us completely as soon as a girl appeared with a cardboard box containing a puppy. Can’t compete with a puppy!

PH26 3TA tel: 01479 788011 Bothy Bakery

///shelters.liquid.twitching

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Powmill Milk Bar

6th March 2024 billpaterson1@me.com 4 Comments

It seems as if Powmill Milk Bar has always been there. Since time immemorial we have driven past it on our way to other places and said “we must go in there some time“. It’s always been a wooden shack style structure but it’s been there so long, the current incarnation must be third or fourth generation.

Easyriders

Anyway, It was a nice day and we had been driving on inexpicably quiet roads to get here. Then it all became clear. Everybody was already here at Powmill Milk Bar! It was mobbed and it was obviously a favoured spot for motorbikes. Leather clad blokes were standing around admiring each other’s bikes in the way that leather clad blokes do. There was also some middle aged car bound blokes admiring all the Ducatis and Kawasaki flying machines and presumably dreaming of a life that might have been.

Scooters at Powmill Milk Bar — Scooters in the car park

Preloaded!

Inside it was going like a fair. We had to join the line at the self service counter but fortunately it went very quickly. A fruit scone was all we wanted but when we asked for jam and cream it seemed to cause some confusion. They just looked at us and said “we have cream scones“! It seemed easier just to agree though normally we steer well clear of preloaded scones. We’re just pernickety and like the performance of constructing our scones according to our own personal taste. On the plus side, however, we were delighted to find that they served Henry’s coffee … our long standing favourite.

Maybe the coffee influenced our experience but we really enjoyed our visit here and wondered why we hadn’t done it years ago. With its straight forward, no airs and graces, approach, we completely understand why it’s so popular. Generally you can’t eat preloaded scones without getting in a bit of a mess. The contents squidge out in all directions. However, a fork and knife helped make this one more manageable. Mind you, the light crumbly nature of the scone even made this quite tricky. Very nice though.

Unforgivable

Politics is so incomprehensible these days we are reluctant to comment on any of it. Putin’s war in Ukraine seems incomprehensible and unforgivable. Imagine if we could just go around murdering anyone who disagreed with us with seeming impunity? Goodness, that would reduce the world’s population quite considerably.

Britain and America’s slavish support for Israel also seems unforgivable. With all the anger generated it’s little wonder that George Galloway has won the Rochdale by-election. Let’s see what his acknowledged oratory skills can do for the Palestinians. Precious little we suspect.

Starvation is now a huge problem in Gaza. Who would have thought that a Jewish state would end up guilty of genocide? Perhaps Israel is being advised by Britain. The British government has form. Its God-given sense of superiority led to them having a long, if not illustrious, history when it comes to starvation. The Irish Famine in the 1850s and the Bengal Famine in 1943 in which millions died, come to mind.

Terminal boredom

On this side of the pond, the prospect of a Sunak/Starmer General Election is boring everyone to death. On the other side a Biden/Trump rerun Presidential Election is depressing everyone to death. We’ll just stay here in Powmill looking at flying machines and dreaming of things we do understand … aah, the wind in our hair!

KY13 0QG tel: 01577 840376 Powmill Milk Bar FB

///valued.passages.tripped

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Storehouse of Foulis

29th February 2024 billpaterson1@me.com 1 Comment

In our previous post from Hettie’s Tearoom we were on a mission to Dingwall to explore some family history. We’re still up north but this time we are on another sort of mission … to find an old friend. We haven’t seen him for something like thirty five years. Problem was that, other than his address, we didn’t have any contact details so we couldn’t warn him we were coming. Perhaps that was just as well otherwise he might have arranged to be ‘out’. After our sojourn to Dingwall we were heading for home but a slight diversion to Evanton, further along the Comarty Firth coast, was not going to add too much to our journey. First though, we stopped off here at the Storehouse of Foulis for a cuppa.

It gets its name because it was built as a Storehouse in 1740 as a central collection point for estate tenants to bring their oats and barley. These were then redistributed to farm workers as wages or sent off to markets further south. Boats would land on the beach, load up, and then take off on the next high tide. That’s all in the past, now it’s a large farm shop/restaurant.

What’s in a name?

Last time we were here seven years ago we had a chocolate and banana scone which left us somewhat underwhelmed. This time we played safe and ordered a fruit scone and some coffee. We had a table by the large bay window looking out over the water and a few redundant oil rigs parked like monuments to a time of plenty squandered by an idiotic Westminster government.

We thought we should check the address. Sacre bleu, he didn’t live in Evanton after all, he lived in Edderton. Evanton/Edderton, an easy mistake to make? We wanted to go south and home but Edderton would take us even further north to the Dornoch Firth … aargh! We deliberated on what to do as we ate our scone. It was nice and came with a nice pot of jam and some prepackaged butter. With this being a self-service place it was never going to be a topscone but enjoyable nevertheless.

Deliberations over, we returned to the car and headed north. Edderton is a small village which lies amidst beautiful countryside on the southern shores of the Dornoch Firth. It also has the good fortune to be sandwiched between the Balblair and Glenmorangie distilleries and presumably has a very happy population of about 400. Our satnav took us straight there but when it announced “you have arrived” it left us a choice of numerous houses at the end of a cul-de-sac .

I stayed in the car while Pat went to make enquiries. Suddenly, there was tap on my window and a chap wanting to know if I was looking for someone. They don’t miss much in Edderton! I told him the name to which he just shook his head and said there was no one of that name in the village. “He was a vet” I said, to which he replied “Oh, that’s his house there“. We had indeed ‘arrived’.

Young lads

after such a long passage of time, turning up unannounced isn’t really very fair. At first he didn’t recognise us but then he gasped “Good grief” … or words to that effect and we were welcomed in. Many years ago, he, I and another friend went on a climbing holiday to St Moritz in the Alps. It’s a long story of wrecked cars and other mishaps the like of which could only happen to young lads with no responsibilities. Suffice to say we never made it. We did, however, in a very round about way, manage to end up in the Pyrenees.

John Simpson and George McKenzie in the Pyrenees — The Pyrenees in 1970, quite like the Alps, another easy mistake!

Magically it seemed like no time had passed at all since we last saw each other. Needless to say there was much catching up to be done. We did eventually get home … in the dark!

IV16 9UX tel: 01349 830038. Storehouse

///elsewhere.surreal.giggle

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Braco Coffee

23rd January 2024 billpaterson1@me.com 6 Comments

Braco Coffee is in the pretty little of village of Braco (pronounced break-o) population about 500. You would be forgiven for thinking that nothing much has ever happened here but you would be wrong.

On the outskirts of the village lies Fort Ardoch, a long abandoned Roman fortification. There’s only grass covered mounds these days to denote where the walls once were. Once while walking by the river we could hear distant commands “sinister dexter, sinister dexter.” Eventually it got much louder and a platoon of marching Roman Legionnaires appeared. They were in full costume and carrying spears with a commanding officer at the front giving them their marching orders. We spoke to them and apparently this is what some men do instead of going to football on a Saturday afternoon. They just march around for a bit, then go home again. We don’t understand either but they seemed very happy.

Damned cows!

But never mind the Romans, more importantly, my mum lodged here during WWII when she worked in forestry.

My mum lodged in one of these houses with a lovely lady called Jessie Allan

My dad was in forestry as well and Braco is where they did all their courting. Apparently on one of their dates my dad left his BSA motorbike in a field. When they returned (from wherever they had been 🥴) the straw stuffed saddle of the bike had been eaten by a cow. We tell you this to illustrate the fact that without this wee village this blog might never have materialised. Unthinkable, we know.

Somewhere as salubrious as Braco Coffee wouldn’t have been available to dad back then hence mum’s invite to a field. Even if it had been, words like “cuppocinno”, “americano” or “flat white” would have been absolutely meaningless to them. We pass through Braco quite often and have had this place in our sights for a while. The clincher came when the Laird reported the cakes as excellent though he wasn’t sure about the scones. Obviously we had to check!

There was a steady stream of people coming and going so we had to wait a wee while to place our order at the counter. Normally these cafes are staffed by young girls but here it seemed to be all young lads. Anyway, it didn’t take them long to have us sorted with our coffees and a fruit scone. There wasn’t any cream and the butter and jam was all prepacked but the scone itself was really good. We thoroughly enjoyed it. Not quite topscone but close.

Memories

Afterwards I took Pat a couple of hundred yards along the road to the Pack Horse Bridge. It’s tucked away behind the more modern road bridge over the river Knaik. Pat was surprised and swore she had never seen it before and wasn’t even aware that it existed.It was built around 1650 and must have been the main crossing point for the river for many years. It’s only about four feet wide with very low stone parapets so it must have been interesting taking horses over it.

The Pack Horse Bridge in Braco — Built around 1650 as Ardoch bridge but now known as the Pack Horse Bridge

When we got home I looked up my photo library because I was sure that I had photographed it in the past. Sure enough I had a picture from 2006 … with Pat and the rest of our family standing on it. Such is our memories these days!

Pack Horse Bridge at Braco — Before Health & Safety … now you are not allowed to walk over it

Travelling

As if that wasn’t enough Braco based anecdotes, here is one last one … promise. Given the problems in Gaza and Israel’s genocidal tendencies it made me think of a conversation about Braco when I was a mere sapling. My brother and I were working for my dad during school holidays when one of the elderly estate workers joined us while we were eating our packed lunches. He told us, when he was our age he was an estate worker in Braco with a 7am start to his working day. At that time he lived six miles away in the village of Muthill. When we asked him how he got to and from his work he said in his broad Scottish accent “oh aye, I just travelled“. Puzzled we asked if he maybe cycled or got a bus. “No” he insisted “I travelled“.

Misunderstanding

After some more probing it eventually dawned on us that by “travelled” he meant he walked. He walked six miles to his work in the morning and six miles back again at night. We hadn’t thought of that! The only reason I’m telling you this is that it was the first time I became aware of the vagaries of language. There we were, all speaking the same language but totally misunderstanding each other.

It’s why I’ve always been amazed by the EU, a union designed to stop wars but consisting of countries speaking twenty four different languages. Prior to the EU these countries used to fight like ferrets in a sack so the room for misunderstanding was immense. And yet it has been phenomenally successful at what it was designed to do. Maybe they should make Israel a member … after all it’s in Eurovision but we’d far rather they find some other solution.

FK15 9PX tel: 01786 880 333 Braco Coffee

///magnets.poetry.showering

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Crieff Hydro

2nd January 2024 billpaterson1@me.com 5 Comments

Let us begin 2024 by wishing all our readers a very happy and healthy year. May your troubles be few and your scones be many! Traditionally it’s a time for reflection on the past year and making ambitious resolutions for the new one. Apart from all the horrible stuff going on in the world, 2023 was good. We had over sixty scones and topscones in such diverse locations as Busta House on Shetland and Coll Hotel on the lovely Isle of Coll. Our most important New Year resolution is not to have any and just enjoy whatever comes along.

Memories

And talking of enjoying ourselves a few days back we visited Crieff Hydro Hotel and Spa with some of the family. Crieff is a Perthshire town we know quite well. We have lots of family connections and many happy memories were made here. Over the years we’ve visited Crieff Hydro several times but always just fleetingly for lunch with relatives. This time we’re staying over with family.

Internal view of Crieff Hydro — a small part of the breakfast room

In 1868 it became Scotland’s first hydropathic establishment where people could go “to take the waters”. It may seem a bit odd these days, however. back then when good clean water was hard to come by, places like this flourished. A favourite for wealthy Victorians. Today it’s still run by the same family. It’s still labeled as a ‘spa’ hotel but nowadays it’s more for massages, saunas and luxury therapies rather than the waters. With over 200 rooms, 50 lodges and over 900 acres of hills and forests, it’s more like a small town than a hotel. It has a swimming pool, tennis courts, ice skating, a couple of golf courses and off-road driving experiences … oh, and don’t forget the funfair.

External view of Crieff Hydro at night — Main entrance

Family, family family

It’s a family hotel and probably not the kind of place you would book for a quiet romantic weekend away. There are kids everywhere! Not that we could complain, we had brought some of our own. We decided to try the scones in the Wintergardens … a large dining area with magnificent views over the Perthshire countryside. And this is only one of several restaurants.

The Wintergardens is all self-service. They had three different types of scone, all freshly baked. Predictably, perhaps we chose a fruit one to share … obviously we had to save ourselves for dinner later. We loaded up our tray and found a nice quiet table by a window. Surprisingly perhaps, there was no cream and the jam and butter were all prepackaged. The scone itself was very good but taking everything into account it failed to gain topscone status.

Enchanted forest at Criedff Hydro — Part of the Festive Forest

Having dabbled in hospitality ourselves we are slightly in awe of this place. With its 850 staff and multitude of facilities it must be a logistical nightmare to manage. And yet it has done so, apparently without a hitch, for over one hundred and fifty years … amazing!

Fun and games at Crieff Hydro — Funfair, skating and roller coaster experience with VR

Virtual reality

We are thankful that none of our grandchildren are having to experience anything remotely like what is happening in Ukraine and Gaza or any of the world’s other disaster areas. Their life experiences are so vastly different from some others, and here at Crieff Hydro it’s almost as if we are living on a different planet. And, of course, they do have the best grandparents in the world 😀

PH7 3LQ tel: 01764 655555 Crieff Hydro

///trainer.amicably.callers

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Spean Bridge Mill

15th November 2023 billpaterson1@me.com 5 Comments

Getting to Spean Bridge Mill wasn’t by way of our intended route. Our mood on finally leaving Kinloch Lodge matched the weather … it was raining! We wanted to take the ferry from Armadale to Mallaig on the mainland so that we had a different route going home. Unable to book on line, however, we decided to just turn up. The ferries are big boats after all and during the winter months they would be quiet. Wrong! CalMac, the ferry operator, had not only reduced the number of crossings from nine to two per day, they have also reduced the size of the boat. It could only take ten cars and guess what, we were … car eleven! The ferryman said “you couldn’t book because it was full” We said “but it doesn’t say that on the booking site?” He said “I know, it’s not fair“… argh!

Retracing

We had no choice but go back the way we had come and use the Skye Bridge, Now our return route was to be the same as that taken on our way to Skye several days ago. Thankfully, this time, there was no snow on the high ground as we approached Cluanie, We stopped briefly at the Commando Memorial just before reaching the village of Spean Bridge. The Memorial looks out over the hills of Ben Nevis though today they were all shrouded in mist.

The Commando Monument at Spear Bridge — Pat and the Commando Memorial

On the 11th of this month we had Armistice Day. Wouldn’t it be good if this day was used to display the true horrors of war and the abject stupidity of it all? That might be more productive than one that honours it and sanitises it with poppies. These commandos were paid a pittance to go out and kill and be killed. Most veterans say wars are nothing but a complete waste. The way we honour war makes it much easier for politicians to ease their consciences and start meddling in other people’s affairs. Perhaps with wars being a veritable gold mine for some people it might be an idea to forbid all MPs from holding any kind of interest in arms companies. Or … world leaders should be compelled to recite the words of “Where is the Love” by the Black Eyed Peas. Just a thought!

Panto season

At least Armistice Day finally gave Rishi Sunak the backbone to, at long last, get rid of Home Secretary, Suella Braverman. Her rabble rousing statements labelling Palestinian protests as ‘hate marches’ didn’t really leave him much option. They were attended peacefully by over 300,000 people with most of the trouble caused by thugs from the Islamophobic, English Defence League.

The return of Dave

In his reshuffle, Rishi has brought back former Prime Minister, David Cameron as Foreign Secretary. Since he’s not even an MP, Rishi could only do this because yesterday at breakfast time, the King made Cameron a Lord. That means he can only sit in the completely unaccountable House of Lords. And here’s us thinking that the pantomime season hadn’t started yet!

Cameron was PM when we started this blog eight years ago and there’s been an unbelievable five PMs since then. With Ukraine and Israel, Cameron has undoubtedly got his work cut out so we can only wish him luck. It’s ironic that Israel seems hell-bent on casting itself as the worst abuser of human rights and breaker of international laws since the Nazis. America’s unswerving support for Israel could make you suspect that it will become the 51st state. Could it be that they just see themselves as fellow colonisers? The war is thinly disguised as a war against Hamas but what is Hamas? Nowhere in the media have we seen any attempt to explain why Hamas even exists. Another mystery!

Self service

Anyway, enough ranting, what about the scones or is that going to be another rant? Spean Bridge Mill is only a couple of miles from the Commando Memorial. It is a woollen mill quite obviously set up to cater for busloads of tourists … gift shop, whisky shop etc. At this time of year it’s quiet. In the cafe, almost the first thing we came to on the self-service counter was the scones … preloaded!. Goodness, they were impressive! So impressive we decided to give them a try. It wasn’t until we reached the cash desk we realised they had some normal scones as well. By that time it was too much hassle to go back and start again.

To make matters worse they had put the jam on top of the cream! And here we are thinking Cameron had problems! And to make matters even WORSER, they were quite good. Mamma mia! You had to eat them with a fork and knife and spoon but they tasted good and were a nice consistency. They reminded us of Kiki McColl’s scones at Liosbeag Café on the Isle of Lismore eight years ago. Obviously Spean Bridge Mill wasn’t a topscone but definitely an experience.

After that we were homeward bound again after a memorable few days away. Although we covered a fair bit of Skye there was lots we didn’t get to. We need to go back … and the sooner the better!

PH34 4EP tel: 01397 712260 Speak Bridge Mill FB

///nickname.splint.triathlon

ps: Suella has just published a three page letter announcing that her former boss, Rishi Sunak, is a complete waste of oxygen. He’s behind you Suella … oh no he isn’t, oh yes he is!

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Green Welly Stop

6th November 2023 billpaterson1@me.com 7 Comments

We’re off on a bit of a road trip! The idea is to make it to the Isle of Skye. Haven’t been there in a long long time so we’re excited at the prospect of visiting old haunts. However, unable to leave until mid afternoon the distance was going to be too much to reach our destination before dark. We are almost nostalgic for the days of just a few months ago when you could still drive around in daylight at 11pm. Now it’s dark about 4.30pm … boo!

The solution was to stop off about half way at Ballachulish Hotel. And half way to there is the Green Welly Stop where we took a break from driving after an hour or so. We are very aware that our Aussie readers are scratching their heads in. disbelief wondering why on earth we need a break so soon. Okay, Scottish roads are small and winding, there’s a lot of traffic and, most persuasively, our aging bladders leave us no option.

Locusts

When we used to hitchhike to Glencoe every weekend many of our lifts would turn off here in Tyndrum to go to Oban. We had to go straight on so we would get dropped off here at what was just a wee shop with a petrol pump. There was nothing much else in the village. Now, the wee shop has been transmogrified into the Green Welly Stop, a huge supermarket type place selling everything a tourist might conceivably want. It has a huge car park to cater for all the cars, coaches and motor bikes that also stop here. The West Highland Way passes close by, so lots of walkers frequent the place as well. It is extremely busy in the summer months and, of course, it has a cafe/restaurant to cater for people who descend like a plague of locusts and move on just as quickly.

For those not in the know, green wellies (rubber wellington boots) are associated with wealthy upper class people who like to visit the countryside. They wouldn’t be seen dead in anything else. The “green welly brigade” is a term that kind of pokes fun at them. The Green Well Stop, however, is anything but posh. It simply caters for loads of people who are just passing through. And the shop sells wellies in pretty much any colour you want!

We last reviewed this place back in 2015 and it hasn’t changed very much. A fruit scone and some coffee was the order of the day. A bit on the big side for our liking, the jam was extra and there was no cream. That said it was perfectly acceptable and exactly what you would expect from this sort of place.

Golden sunsets

Tyndrum has a gold mine but we couldn’t find anything in the shop made out of local gold. We left and headed on towards Glencoe. We did find local gold, however in the sunset as we started out across the expanse of Rannoch Moor … fab!

Looking from the Black Mount with Loch Tulla to the left

It was fabulous to drive through mountainous Glencoe in the evening light. We just caught the last of it as we arrived for our stop-over at Ballachulish and a catchup with an old friend.

Terrorists?

A trip like this makes you realise how fortunate we are to live in a country like Scotland. Wars and disasters elswhere in the world make us feel even luckier. Israel will eventually learn that eradicating Hamas simply won’t work. Traditionally, Britain has always labeled everyone who disagrees with them, ‘terrorists’. That is until the ‘terrorists’ are eventually proven to be right. Then they are invited for tea with the Queen. Britain tried to eradicate the IRA and although there is peace at the moment, the IRA is still there and always will be until the fundamental problem created by Britain is resolved. It’s the same in the Middle East

FK20 8RY tel: 01838 400271 Green Welly

///conclude.mended.patrolled

ps: our wonderful Utah correspondents have sent us news. It’s about as far away from Utah and Tyndrum as you can get. Recently, they were adventuring in East Grinstead and came across Bench RH19 and this rather delicious looking scone. They are hoping to return next year for more scone adventures … yeah!.

RH19 3AS tel: 01342 322 333 Benchrh19

///flags.many.starts

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Edenmill Café

5th March 2023 billpaterson1@me.com 16 Comments

Our short break at the Black Bull in Gartmore has come to an end. It’s been a lot of fun but today we have to head for home … boo! We decided, however to return by a different route and that’s how we came to end up at the Edenmill Café. What took us in the direction of Edenmill was a search for the Devil’s Pulpit. No one quite knew why we had heard of the Devil’s Pulpit except for a vague recollection that it featured in Outlander. It wasn’t easy to find!

Believable?

We should have known we were in the right area, however, because the landscape round here is dominated by the Whangie, a strange rock formation where, many years ago, we used to go for practice rock climbs if we could’t make it as far as Glencoe. Apparently the weird cleft in the rock was formed by Satan’s tail when he rushed round the mountain, late for a witch’s coven. Okay, okay, but let’s face it, if you believe Westminster’s story about Brexit being a wonderful success, you might as well believe this one too! In fact, it’s a lot more believable!

Sacrifices

Anyway, there were no direction signs whatsoever for the Devil’s Pulpit. It was almost as if we weren’t supposed to go there! Eventually we parked in a rough area beside some other cars and reckoned they would be trying to find it as well. All we knew was that it is was”over there somewhere.”

Danger of death

We headed off across a field and knew we must be getting close when we came across some sacrificial offerings hung high on a telegraph wire. No idea why so many trainers were strung up there but hopefully their owners hadn’t come to some dark satanic misfortune. Goodness, it was the devil’s own job trying to find this place. After wandering in all sorts of directions we eventually came on a path through a wood that looked promising. The Devil’s Pulpit is actually an extremely narrow 100ft deep gorge in Finnich Glen. There didn’t seem to be any way to access it that didn’t involve certain and immediate death.

Way down to the Devil's Pulpit — Almost vertical slippery Devil’s Steps with only a rope (thick green string) to hang on to

A notice saying “Exploring Finnich Glen – Danger of Death or Serious Injury” didn’t really help! And when we did eventually find the ‘official’ access point, it didn’t look at all inviting. Not called the Devil’s Steps for nothing! We could hear the squeals of the youngsters who were half way down and thought that it might not be the best thing for old arthritic codgers like us. Just think of the humiliation having to be rescued … many have had exactly that experience!

the Devil's Pulpit — it’s kind of magical if you can get down there … and back up!

Alpacas

We asked a teenager emerging back up the steps if there were any scones down there. The response was puzzled but negative so that sealed the deal. Enough adventuring, we were off to the Edenmill Café just a few miles further down the road!

Edenmill is huge and seems to do all sorts of things. There’s a butcher shop, a soft play area and a bunkhouse as well as the café. Pat wanted to go alpaca trekking but, in the end, the lure of the scones proved too much.

We placed our order then went outside to sit in the warm spring sunshine. Still feeling the effects of the Black Bull breakfast it was just some coffee and a fruit scone to share. No cream but it was presented with plenty of pre-packed jam and butter and it had nice crunchy exterior we like. We thoroughly enjoyed it but perhaps the sunshine and that feeling you get having narrowly cheated death was enhancing our experience. Maybe a slight exaggeration! Enjoyable but not quite a topscone! Haven’t had a topscone in ages!

Eventually we had to part company with our Trossachs correspondents and make our way back home. They have been brilliant company and now we feel much better acquainted with this part of the world. Look forward to doing it all again sometime.

G63 9AX tel: 01360 771707 Edenmill

///brains.frosted.loaning

ps: Apparently there is an upcoming £2million pound project to build a large car park, a café, visitor centre and easily accessed viewing platforms at the Devil’s Pulpit. Presumably to cater for all the Outlander fans. We’re happy to have seen it in its raw state.

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Kitchen Window

2nd March 2023 billpaterson1@me.com 5 Comments

Okay, we’re still staying at the Black Bull in Gartmore with our Trossachs correspondents. And, since we are in the Trossachs, we are relying on their local knowledge and expertise to guide us. That’s why you find us here, at the Kitchen Window in Killearn. It’s a beautiful little village, only a ten minute drive from where we are staying. And for some mysterious reason it has completely avoided us in the past. Even stranger, the village lies in the strath (valley) of the River Endrick, Strathendrick and Strathendrick is the name of our house.

landscape of Killearn — View across Strathendrick with Killearn bottom left of centre

The first thing you notice as you drive into the village is an almighty obelisk. Turns out it’s dedicated to the memory of George Buchanan who was born here in 1506.

The Buchanan memorial, Killearn — 30m Buchanan Memorial

George may be the most famous person you have never heard of. Educated here in Killearn and in Paris, according to many he was “the most profound intellectual sixteenth century Scotland produced,” Mary Queen of Scots was once his pupil. A humanist and a poet, he campaigned against monarchy and corruption in the church. He believed that power should lie with the people. This, of course, landed him in all sorts of trouble with the people who actually had the power … and wanted to keep it that way. One of Glasgow’s main shopping streets, Buchanan Street, is named after him. We had always wondered who Buchanan of Buchanan Street was but now we know.

American constitution

Sounds like a guy ahead of his time but if he returned today, five centuries later, he would be surprised to find that there’s still plenty to campaign about. He was held in high regard and his advice on the responsibilities of leaders was sought while drawing up the American constitution. There’s much more we could tell you about George but just a few yards along the street lies the Kitchen Window cafe. Feeling guilty for never having heard of George we felt the least we could do was have a scone in his honour. Pathetic, we know!

Advice to leaders

The building that now houses the village hall used to be the Parish Church, built in 1826. Now it has a large ultra modern, all singing/dancing extension that houses The Kitchen Window cafe. It’s an impressive space and must be an invaluable asset for the community. We noticed the size of the scones so ordered one to share. Nothing pre-packed and foreign here. Unfortunately, they didn’t have cream but our scone came with a lovely pot of jam and a generous slab of butter. What’s not to like? Nothing really, it was all great but again it wasn’t quite a topscone. We feel sure that part of George Buchanan’s advice to leaders would be to experience the civilising influence of scones and afternoon tea as often as possible. The world might be a better place!

Tolls

Being introduced to Killearn, George Buchanan and the Kitchen Window has been a great experience. We’re indebted to our correspondents. And, joy of joys, we are happy to report that we drove through the village for free … yeah! On the opposite side of the street from the Kitchen Window was the old Toll House.

In 1844 it cost sixpence to drive through Killearn in your Barouche or your Diligence … or your Hearse?

View of Killearn — Killearn in the winter sun

G63 9NL tel: 01360 550116 Kitchen Window

///intruding.configure.rocky

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Dobbies revisited

23rd February 2023 billpaterson1@me.com 7 Comments

This is “Dobbie’s revisited” because we first visited Dobbies Garden Centre back in 2017. It was big then but now it’s even bigger. Of course, it’s not so much a garden centre now, more a kind of general store where you can buy almost anything you can imagine. You can even sell your car here! They still sell plants though. Their cafe area seems to have got bigger as well … it’s massive! Last time we thought that their scones were too big, surely they wouldn’t have got bigger as well.

Tempting offer?

Before all that though, you are probably wondering why the title picture is of a bull rather than a garden centre. That’s because we had no intention of coming to Dobbies. I suspect that most male readers would not experience any resistance when they ask their wives if they would like to go to the sales. When I asked Pat that very question, she just looked disbelieving and sceptical. Okay, okay, I eventually had to divulge that I meant the bull sales in Stirling but sales are sales … yes/no? All I can say is that she managed to contain her excitement really well!

Stirling Auction Mart has a vast car park however when we got to the roundabout on the main road that leads to the mart it was blocked by a couple of guys in hi-vis jackets telling us we would have to park elsewhere … the car park was full … argh! No parking on the main road so the nearest alternative was Dobbies and then walk back the quarter of a mile or so.

Guineas

We weren’t in the market for a bull. Especially since we would now have to walk it all the way back to the car. The conduct of the auction is a model of efficiency. Immediately after the ‘sold’ bull leaves the ring another simultaneously enters through a different gate. It is continuous. And, although they are all being sold no one seemed to be bidding. It takes a wee while to get your eye in and spot what is going on. One farmer just bid with a tiny flick of his little finger. All bids are in guineas. Why make it simple? It’s tradition!

Size is everything

There were 132 Simmental bulls being sold in our auction. The name and age in months and days of each animal goes up on a large LED screen. The program has lots of other details like height, weight and scrotal size … a bit personal!

Stirling Bull sales — This big fella went for £30,000

After a while we took a break and went to get a coffee in the cafe. No frills and everything served in farmer sized portions but no scones. I asked a farmer sitting beside us to explain why the age of each bull was so exact. He explained that each animal is given a unique ear tag at birth so everyone knows all about it. I asked if the age was particularly critical since they mostly seemed to be within a year of each other. He said it was important because whereas the younger bulls can manage around twenty females, the older ones can manage about forty. I didn’t know whether to feel impressed or totally inadequate.

No jam or cream

Fully loaded scones at Dobbie's Garden Centre Stirling — we resisted the fully loaded scones

We decide to leave before they started on the Charolais bull sale that followed. Even although the auctioneer assured us that some of the bulls were real bargains we left empty handed and that might be the first sale Pat has been to without buying anything. Of course going back to Dobbies to retrieve the car meant that we had to go in and check out their scones. Back in 2017 we had a cherry and coconut scone which did not impress. This time it was to be treacle for me and an empire biscuit for Pat. At least my scone was a good bit smaller than how we remembered them here, so that was a relief. Pat kindly decorated mine with the green jelly thingy from her biscuit. A long time since I’ve had a treacle scone and this one was really good. No jam or cream required, just some butter. A great day out and Pat was feeling spoiled … a sale and an empire biscuit!

Posters at Dobbie's Garden Centre Stirling — Dobbies is older than we thought

Testosterone

With Nicola Sturgeon stepping down, Scottish politics is in a bit of a turmoil. The contest is between Humza Yousaf and Kate Forbes. Another female leader would be good since, particularly after the bull sales, there always seems to be too much testosterone floating around world politics. However the debate has become mired in religion and LGBT rights. Hopefully the arguments are not going to be about that … there are bigger things to worry about

FK9 4UF tel: 01786 458860 Dobbies

///flush.travels.waxer

Easyriders

Preloaded!

Unforgivable

Terminal boredom

What’s in a name?

Young lads

Damned cows!

Memories

Travelling

Misunderstanding

Memories

Family, family family

Virtual reality

Retracing

Panto season

The return of Dave

Self service

Locusts

Golden sunsets

Terrorists?

Believable?

Sacrifices

Danger of death

Alpacas

American constitution

Advice to leaders

Tolls

Tempting offer?

Guineas

Size is everything

No jam or cream

Testosterone

by Bill and Pat Paterson and is about finding good scones throughout the world, with a little bit of politics