It’s a sure sign that summer is coming to an end. Could it be the lower temperatures, the leaves turning, or the days shortening? Well yes, but it’s more that we have started going to the movies after breakfast. We enjoy it. It supports our local picture palace and it feels slightly sinful when you come out and it’s only lunchtime. It also allows us to explore the town of Bo’ness and find places like Nosh, the scene for today’s scone.
Inside the Hippodrome
We haven’t been here at the Hippodrome, Scotland’s oldest cinema ,since February when we saw ‘Till’, an excellent movie. This time it was ‘The Innocent‘ a French romcom heist caper about stealing a truck load of caviar. Enjoyable enough although subtitles can be hard work when they go rapidly … why do the French speak so quickly?
In some ways watching a French film in Bo’ness is kind of appropriate. Bo’ness was once one of Scotland’s largest ports and would have traded the black stuff (coal not caviar) with France for many centuries. Scotland was France’s oldest ally since the two countries formed the Auld Alliance in 1295 in an attempt to control England’s many invasions. Trade between the two circumvented England and ports like Bo’ness and Leith thrived. It may also explain why Scotland has always thought of itself as much more European than England.
After the film we ended up here in Nosh, one of the few cafés we haven’t visited in the town. It’s located in a building built in 1750 as a tollbooth.
Built in 1750 but who were ‘RB’ and ‘EB’?
It’s more of a takeaway place for sandwiches and the like but it does have a few tables.
On the counter, under a glass dome, were two scones individually wrapped in cling film. We never think this is a good idea. Scones need to breathe after all and sometimes it means that they might not be entirely fresh. Anyway, we ordered one to share as well as a some coffees. Our scone turned out to be not at all bad but a long way off a topscone.
Obedience
The Prime Minister has single handedly managed to upset almost everyone by announcing that he is rolling back on his commitment to green policies. The date for net zero will now be 2035 instead of 2030. Goodness knows what it will be by the time we reach 2030? Right or wrong it does demonstrate this Tory government’s unswerving dedication to screwing things up. It wouldn’t be so serious if there was a better option waiting in the wings, but there isn’t! The only thing the Labour Party, “the opposition” seems to do is support the Tories. Voters are caught between a rock and a hard place. In Scotland, after one invasion too many by England, we have no say and just do what we are told!
A watercolour of Nosh’s building
Meanwhile King Charles and Queen Camilla are in France trying to thaw out relationships after the disaster of Brexit. Good luck with that!
The last time we were at the Dunimarle Orangery was back in 2021 … and at that time it wasn’t here. The building was here but it wasn’t a tearoom. In the 1830s it was Magdalene Erskine who added the Orangery to the castle presumably so she could grow her own oranges … as you do! We think that Magdalene may have been a force to be reckoned with. In 1853 she married an Admiral Sharpe who she discarded permanently after three days. Goodness, he may have been lacking in certain departments but you would have thought she could have given him a week?
Dunimarle Castle from the west
Obviously a woman with ambition and a plan as she incorporated his name and became Mrs Sharpe Erskine thereafter. Life is so much easier if you are double-barrelled! Eventually she turned the castle into a museum to house hundreds of objects d’art and fine paintings her brother had ‘acquired’ during the Napoleonic wars. Now, all these artefacts have been transferred to Duff House in Aberdeenshire. Perhaps typically, before she died in 1872, she built an ornate chapel in the grounds for her own funeral. Why not? Oranges would never keep her going for ever!
Good sense
After many years languishing with an uncertain future Dunimarle was recently bought by businessman Salim Mohamed who wants to turn it into his home. At least Salim has had the good sense to open the Orangery as a tearoom. Well done Salim!
Avenue of Wellingtonias used to form the main entrance to the castle
When we were last here we bemoaned the fact that there wasn’t a tearoom. To us it seemed like an ideal spot. It’s only a twenty minute drive from home, we had to investigate.
The Orangery itself is nicely set up and very necessary in the event of inclement weather. Today, however, was lovely and warm so we opted to sit out and enjoy the panoramic views over the Firth of Forth.
Complications
Unfortunately, placing a simple order for tea and a single scone to share became strangely complicated. Everyone was very nice but the right hand didn’t quite seem to know what the left hand was doing. Perhaps they just need to settle down with a system. Finally we had everything we needed (except cream) and spent a very pleasant hour just sitting in this wonderful setting with a very pleasant scone. Not quite a topscone but pretty close.
A castellated doorway leading to Italianate yew-lined terrace.
Privileged
We have no doubt that when Mrs Sharpe Erskine was around riffraff like us would have been unceremoniously seen off the premises so we felt very privileged to be sitting here in these surroundings. Especially when news from the Moroccan earthquake is of complete villages being reduced to rubble in seconds with thousands of deaths. In Scotland, the village of Comrie, known as “the Shaky Toon” is the epicentre for such events. However, if a plate fell off a shelf in Comrie during a quake it would definitely make headline news. We are privileged indeed.
Readers know by now that we are indebted to our foreign correspondents for much of our global sconology. This post is typical. Our Bathurst correspondents from New South Wales are regular contributors and thave sent us an account of their road trip to Alice Springs to visit their son’s family. The last time we saw them was back in April when they visited their daughter in St Andrews and we were on our way to Kingsbarns distillery.
Rendezvous with our Bathurst correspondents at Rufflets, St Andrews
After leaving Alice Springs our intrepid correspondents opted for the long way round through Queensland and by the time they reached Roses n Things they had covered 8000km. Everything is relative! We think Inverness is quite far away but if we covered that sort of distance it would take us to somewhere near the coast of China looking out towards Japan. Aussies, however seem to take this sort of stuff in their stride.
In their own words
“One of the highlights of the return trip was a visit to the town of Barcaldine, so named after your Barcaldine in Scotland. Apparently, one of the first settlers was Donald Charles Cameron, a direct descendent of the Campbells of Barcaldine Castle. Why a Cameron was a descendant of the Campbells. I know not.
The Barcaldine Tree of Knowledge. We think this may be the one the Tory government in the UK is consulting at the moment
Our Barcaldine is famous as the birthplace of the Australian Labour Party, formed during the 1891 sheep shearers strike. The shearers met under a large ghost gum tree, now known as The Tree of Knowledge. Unfortunately, the tree was poisoned in 2006 by persons unknown, suspected to be Conservative sympathizers. The dead tree is now the focal point of a large wooden monument.”
But what of scones I hear you ask ? Well, the Barcaldine caravan park, at which we stayed, had attached to it a cafe called Roses ‘n’ Things Tea Garden. A bit of a mouth full, as were the scones we had for breakfast. Possibly not a top scone, but not far from it.”
Ghosts
The Australian and Scottish Barcaldines have much in common when it comes to ghosts. The Aussie town is famous for it’s haunted Shakespeare Hotel. It’s ghosts, however, don’t sound like a match for the Scottish versions. The angry ghost of Donald Campbell roams Barcaldine Castle endlessly searching for his murderer. And Duncan Campbell, or Black Duncan of Barcaldine Castle, wasn’t exactly the perfect mine host. In case anyone should imagine he was going a bit soft in his old age he installed a bottle dungeon, a hanging tree and a beheading pit. He also had a large WELCOME mat at the door! No he didn’t, we made that up!
Forbidden
The original Tree of Knowledge, of course, was in the Garden of Eden where our ancestors Adam and Eve lived beautiful innocent lives. On the tree was the Forbidden Fruit which they were not even allowed to touch because it contained the knowledge of good and evil. Typically perhaps Eve couldn’t resist and even managed to persuade Adam to take a bite as well. Goodness, just think what the world would be like today if Eve hadn’t been so tempted?
Many thanks A&J, hopefully we can meet up again on your next visit to Scotland.
Isn’t it really silly that a country like Scotland has to resort to protest marches just to get a say in our own future. Well here we are in Edinburgh, along with thousands of others, being really silly. If this is what it takes, so be it. It was a very happy day with all age ranges well represented. Being part of a sea of Saltires, however, made us wonder how it came to be the national flag … the oldest flag in the world. We probably understand the American and Australian flags better than we understand our own, Because our readers are spread all over the world we feel a duty to enlighten, not only about scones but about Scotland as well. So here goes! Hang in there, we do eventually end up with scones at Greywalls.
WARNING:
Like a lot of Scottish stuff … haggis, unicorns, kelpies, Nessie etc. one has to keep an open mind. To get Saltire answers we travelled about 20 miles east of Edinburgh to the tiny village of Athalstaneford and the Flag Heritage Centre. It’s housed in a doocot (dovecot) built in 1583 when people were presumably a lot smaller than they are today.
Saint in a quandary
In 832 the Battle of Athalstaneford took place here. The Northumbrian’s were totally brassed off with the Picts coming south and stealing their cattle. They formed an army led by Athalstane and headed north bent on revenge. Angus, King of Picts, feared what was coming and prayed for help from St Andrew. Lo and behold, in the sky there appeared a cloud formation in the form of a diagonal cross the same as the one on which St Andrew had been crucified. Inspired, Angus won the day and promised to make Andrew the patron saint of Scotland for helping him win. Mind you Andrew is also patron saint to both Russia and Ukraine … bit of a quandary there? Readers should also bear in mind that in the 9th century they hadn’t realised that these patterns were invariably caused by vapour trails from high flying jets.
Anyway, Greywalls is just a hop skip and a jump from Athalstaneford. You can probably tell from the title picture that it’s our kind of place. Lovely country house surrounded by beautiful gardens. Expectations were high!
Mashie niblicks
The house was built in 1901 as a holiday home for the Hon Alfred Lyttelton. He insisted that it be built ‘within a mashie niblick shot of the eighteenth green at Muirfield’. That’s a lofted club so not very far. You will remember that, in 2017, this was the golf club at the centre of a sexism scandal for refusing to allow women members. Obviously they lost that battle! As a hotel, however, Greywall’s remains a favourite haunt of golfers from all over the world. The interior is as you would expect of such a grand country house, though somewhat oddly, we were shown into a rather modern conservatory area which contrasted strangely with the rest of the house.
We ordered tea and scones. And they were duly delivered in what we would describe as an efficient rather than a friendly manner. Again, as with our previous post from Craobh, they arrived on a slate. The scones were excellent. Slightly warmed and crisp on the outside with a fabulous soft interior. Lots of jam and cream. We felt they might even challenge our benchmark scones from Fonab Castle and Schlosse Roxburghe. They definitely would have if the service had not been quite so rigid. Still a good topscone though.
A life and a half
In the hall there was a portrait of Flora MacDonald Horlick. She was a direct descendant of Flora MacDonald who bravely disguised Bonnie Prince Charlie as Betty Burke, her Irish spinning maid to help him escape the redcoats. He fled to France but she was caught and imprisoned in the Tower of London. Years later she arrived in South Carolina at the beginning of the American Revolution.
But having backed the losing side she ended up forced into hiding herself. She lost everything and opted to return to her beloved Skye. During her return this defiant woman, refused to opt for safety below deck and was shot in the arm by pirates. We think she would have been a member at Muirfield whether they liked it or not. She died in 1790, survived by seven of her children and is buried on Skye wrapped in a sheet in which the Bonnie Prince had slept. That’s a life and a half. But her descendent in the picture, by comparison, seems to have had a much more privileged life.
Marches, flags, battles, scones and heroines … quite enough for one day!
ps This Falkirk made K6 telephone box is outside the Flag Heritage Centre in downtown Athalstaneford. It still has a working telephone and also functions as a library.
Today, we are out wandering with the intention of finding somewhere for dinner in the evening. Not entirely random, however, we do have a little French restaurant called the Barley Bree in mind. It’s in the lovely conservation village of Muthill and we used to go there quite often to visit our aunt. The story gets a little convoluted but bear with us. Unfortunately when we looked it up on the internet it seemed to be closed and up for sale. Phone calls went unanswered. Not to worry, it had been a long time since we had been in this beautiful part of Perthshire so we decided to carry on and find somewhere in the next town, Crieff.
However, when we were driving through Muthill we passed the Barley Bree and Pat thought that it looked as if it was open. We couldn’t stop because of the traffic so we carried on another couple of miles to Crieff. Hence you find us here in the middle of the afternoon in Craobh, slap bang in the centre of town. However, wonder of wonders, in the course of the afternoon we discovered that the Barley Bree was now called the Coorie Inn (a play on the Scots saying “coorie in” meaning to snuggle). We got their phone number and voila, we had a booking for later!
Parking again!
Back to Craobh! We parked right outside and surprise, surprise had to pay via an app. After our previous experience at the Old Mill in Christchurch this gave us a touch of the heebie-jeebies. Guess what, it failed again! We asked a passing lady if she could get it to work. She just laughed and shook her head. However she did tell us that we could park round the corner for free. What a woman! Pat went off to park while I went into the restaurant. To be fair to this app called RingGo, other people seem to use the it without difficulty so we suspect that our version has developed a glitch.
Craobh is Gaelic for ‘tree’ and is pronounced “kroov”. Perthsire is famous for its big trees, hence the name. It’s a lovely restaurant with quite a few tables at the front and then several more through the back. It was completely deserted. The Mary Celeste had more folk. There was only a couple of young girls behind the counter.
They welcomed us and confirmed that they did have scones … hurrah! Then they spent some time consulting their reservation book to see if they could fit us in. Curious, because as far as we could make out every single table was available. Turned out that they were actually fully booked for dinners so were probably just checking that we were not going to interfere with their first reservations. Anyway it was great to hear that they were fully booked and by the sounds of it that was the case most nights … fantastic!
Slate plates
Since we were having dinner later we just asked for a scone to share and some coffee. It, or rather they, arrived nicely presented on a piece of slate. Obviously this would upset the bellyachers at wewantplates.com. They get terribly upset about food served on anything other than a plate. Thankfully we have never been known to bellyache about anything! We can tolerate a bit of slate … especially if it’s adorned with warm scones, jam and cream. And we did have side plates. With this sort of attention to detail we began to understand why this place might be so popular. We thought that they just managed to squeak into our topscone category. Well done Croabh!
Stranger than fiction
Goodness, it’s all going on in the world. On one hand we have a Russian president gayly murdering anyone he doesn’t approve of.
On the other we have a former US president being fingerprinted and mugshotted. As an ex-professional photographer I can honestly say that I would have been sacked if I had taken a mugshot like that. Besides the subject matter, there just isn’t anything right about it. Trump, as ever, is up to his old school boy tricks, deflecting attention so that nothing of substance ever gets discussed. And yet his supporters keep following like mesmerised cattle apparently oblivious to the harm he does to the US and the world.
In sporting news it is all about the president of total plonkers Luis Rubiales and the turmoil created by THE KISS. If any of our most imaginative readers were asked to make up a surreal, fantastical week of news it would probably fall well short of the actual reality.
Schwarzenegger says
Our dinner at the Coorie Inn was great. It’s been taken over by Andrew, Phil and Lisa … all previously of the five star Gleneagles Hotel. They’ve only had it for five weeks so still settling in but they seem to be making a real go of it. We wish them well. After a delicious dinner we discovered that they do scones every afternoon! We will be back!
PH7 3EY tel: 01764 650762 Craobh
///accompany.inkjet.ideals
ps: This notice was in Craobh …. discuss! Think we know why it’s from “source unknown”.
Okay, following our disappointing visit to Alianti in Richmond upon Thames. we are still in the deep south imposing on family. To share the burden of our presence more evenly, however, we have now moved to Poole in Dorset. Here, we can live the life of beach bums. Evidently, it’s a lifestyle we can adapt to without any sort of difficulty. Today, however, we have hit the monsoon season which we’re assured will only last one day. We’ve taken a drive and ended up here at the Old Mill Tea Rooms in Christchurch.
Miraculous
The ancient town of Christchurch sits between two rivers – the Stour and the Avon and is dominated by the 11th century Priory. It was closed in 1539 during the Dissolution of Henry VIII but miraculously managed to survive. It houses the tomb of Margaret, Countess of Salisbury, who Henry described as “the most saintly woman in England”. Though, it would be another miracle if she was able to maintain such a title after meeting Henry.
The roof of the Priory also contains the Miraculous Beam. The medieval builders determined that this essential beam was too short for where it was supposed to go, giving rise to much angst. Next morning, however, when they returned (presumably sober) it was not only the correct length but in its correct position. It brings to mind a quote by Noam Chomsky sent to us by our Aussie Toowoomba correspondents still recovering from the Matilda’s defeat to the Lionesses: “The general population doesn’t know what’s happening and it doesn’t even know that it doesn’t know.” Given that people flock to see the Miraculous Beam we should not be surprised when they vote the way they do.
Mary Shelley cradling her dead husband after a boating accident
But now to more prosaic matters … parking! Although Christchurch is only a few miles from Poole it takes half an hour to get here. It takes half and hour to get anywhere. It’s just the volume of traffic! You have to pay for parking everywhere. In our modern cashless society we were supplied with an app to facilitate this. A cashless society disadvantages a lot of people so we’re not in favour but increasingly we find ourselves without any. To park you just enter your location (4 digit ID) and select how long you want to stay. Not here, however, outside the Old Mill. When the app asked how long you wished to stay it wouldn’t allow us to select anything. We tried everything but eventually we gave up. Perhaps someone in the Old Mill could tell us where we are going wrong?
The girl behind the counter just shook her head and said “No-one can work it, there’s no service down here, you’ll have to use coins”. Coins? Where on earth would we find these? Our girl came to the rescue. She gave us four £1 coins from the till and said she would add it on to our bill. Phew! A couple of hours would have been more than plenty but in our excitement we fed the machine with all our new found treasure. Now we could stay all day in the pouring rain … yeah!
A funfair
The Old Mill Tea Rooms were busy busy. Maybe it was just a very good place or maybe it had something to do with wintry weather outside? There’s a funfair here and there’s nothing quite so desolate as a funfair in the pouring rain. Anyway the atmosphere in the Old Mill was bright and cheerful with lots of chatter. We had a window seat allowing us to look out onto the harbour and watch others braving the worst of the weather. Our scones came with lots of jam and cream as well as a fresh strawberry. It was thoughtfully cut in half to prevent any squabbling about whose it was. The scones had been warmed and were lovely and soft. Not topscones but we thoroughly enjoyed them nevertheless.
Newsless in Dorset
For the last couple of weeks we have been without television or newspapers. Adrift in that wonderful world of “no news”. Don’t think we’ve missed much.
This picture in the Old Mill pretty much sums up most people when they think of the world today.
Shelley’s wife Mary wrote Frankenstein in 1818, She also said “Life, although it may be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me and I will defend it” Go on yourself Mary!
You can probably tell that with a highfalutin name like Alianti Bonne Bouche that we are not in Scotland any more. We’re in London imposing on family. Even down here though the name is a bit confusing! Bonne Bouche kind of means ‘tasty bite’. We can go with that but Alianti is Italian for ‘gliders’ … no comprendes!
Confusion
Actually this place is confusing and it’s not just the name. There are no toilet or hand washing facilities and in our old fashioned naive kind of way we thought that that wasn’t allowed these days. An enquiry about these facilities elicits a brusque “don’t have any” from the unsurprisingly surly and cross legged staff. Things were not getting off to the best of starts. There were two scones on the counter and that was it. She said “we don’t have cream but there’s strawberry jam. Would we like that?” Rather than just have a dry scone we replied in the affirmative. Then she added “There’s butter as well. Would we like that?” Boy, they really know how to show people a good time down here! To be fair, she did offer to toast the scones which was great because they looked at least a couple of days old.
Paved Court leads to Ted Lasso’s flat and the pub used in the TV series
On the upside, it was a lovely day so we sat out in Paved Court which isn’t a ‘court’, more a narrow little lane that runs down the side of the cafe. Is there no end to the confusion? From a sconological point of view, suffice to say that this experience was just a whisker short of catastrophic. The coffee was nice but other than that there was nothing to commend it. If we were ever to return they would have to drop the ‘bonne bouche’ and have a large illuminated sign advertising their brand spanking new toilets. We are not holding our breath!.
She asked!
Our sojourn at Alianti was actually very enjoyable. Nothing to do with the fare we are served but a lot to do with the two ladies sitting at the next table. They were great fun! One was from Germany but had spent most of her life in the US. She was keen to know why Scotland wanted to separate from England. So many reasons … where to start?
Interior of Alianti
Norway has just published that they expect to get £120 billion in tax revenues from North Sea oil in 2023. Scotland has the same amount of oil but gets nothing … it all goes to Westminster. They then waste it on vanity projects in London. Then there’s the lies. Not little porky pie type lies but great big humungous lies. Obviously not big enough to embarrass Boris Johnson, no lies are that big but big nevertheless!
In 2014 we had the referendum on Scottish independence. We were told then that there was only a dribble of oil left. Hardly enough to last the year. Never mind the green issues, a couple of weeks ago Rishi Sunak issued 100 brand new drilling licences with hundreds more to follow. There’s loads of oil! In 2014 we were told that the only way Scotland could stay in the EU was to stick with England. Two years later Brexit ensured that Scotland was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the EU.
At the other end of Paved Court, two cast iron telephone kiosks made in Falkirk with Ted Lasso’s pub in the background,
Also, never mind that Scotland has a devolved government that wants independence or that almost all the Westminster MPs who represent Scotland also want independence, it doesn’t make the slightest difference. All the important powers are retained by England. We could have gone on: the BBC, monarchy, land ownership, the Barnett formula but by this time she was wishing she had never asked!
Morality?
Economics are all well and good but for us it’s simply a moral question. Why should one country be able to deny another country the right to determine its own future. It’s equivalent to Canada having to ask permissions from the US. Canadians would tolerate that for slightly less than a split nanosecond!
We bade farewell to our new enlightened friends and headed off in search of a real bonne bouche!
We are about as familiar with Greenock as we are with the dark side of the moon. And that’s more than a little peculiar because it’s only an hour’s drive from home. We can only blame it on its situation on the southern shores of the Clyde hemmed in by hills. Also, Pat is from the north side of the river and generally that means you don’t go to the “south side” unless absolutely necessary! Unless you have a particular excuse to go there, you just don’t. Today we have a particular excuse.
Our Sydney correspondents let us know that they were on a cruise and today they would be docked at Greenock. By a happy coincidence we had also been informed that Buzzworks had just opened a new restaurant in the town called Scotts Greenock. We could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.
View of the Island Princess from our table
We visit Scotts at South Queensferry quite a lot and we thought it would be good to have a look at this new recently opened enterprise. Situated in Greenock, it would also mean that our friends would not have too far to travel from their ship. We booked a table for today.
Power of the kettle
For many years Greenock was the centre of shipbuilding, sugar refining and wool manufacturing but now they have all disappeared and it is bravely trying to recover from these heady days of heavy industry. James Watt, who famously discovered steam power by trying to hold down the lid of his kettle was born here in 1736, More recently, so was Judge Dredd
Imagine our surprise when we found that Scotts is actually part of the Ocean Terminal building that our friends had to go through to get on and off their ship. They beat us to it and were already at the table. It’s seven years since we last saw them so it was wonderful to see them again. There was loads to catch up on!
Cameron was our server. He got us all sorted up with a delicious lunch but when we asked for a scone he just looked very perplexed and scurried off. He returned with the devastating news that they didn’t have any. And here was us hoping to give our correspondents a in-person refresher course! It was all a bit odd, however, because every other Buzzworks place we have been to has scones displayed in their bar areas.
Can I help you?
I ventured up to the bar just to check that Cameron hadn’t misunderstood. When a lady saw me searching she asked if she could be of help.
the entrance to Scotts
I explained my surprise that they didn’t have any scones when all their sister restaurants did. She explained that having only opened a couple of weeks ago, they weren’t fully operational yet. She assured me that as soon as they were they would have scones just like everywhere else. Then she added “but when you made your reservation you wrote that you were meeting friends from Australia for lunch and hopefully a scone … so we made some scones this morning, especially.” Goodness gracious, had we actually stumbled on an organisation that actually paid attention to the individual? Wow, a rare thing in this modern automated world! I resisted an almost overpowering urge to kiss this lovely lady and returned to the table to deliver the good news.
In no time at all Cameron was delivering our scones, nicely presented on large oval cobalt blue platters. No cream but perhaps that wasn’t altogether surprising given that the scones in front of us were the only ones the restaurant had ever had. The four of us thoroughly enjoyed them and although we didn’t think the scones on their own merited a topscone we decided to award one anyway. Considering the trouble they had gone to on our behalf it was totally deserved. Well done Scotts Greenock for going above and beyond!
Our friends had been in Shetland the day before and Iceland the day before that. This cruising lark is relentless and sadly, before long, it was time to say farewell. They had to get back on board and head for Southampton. Cameron kindly offered to take a final picture on the outdoor deck area and then, with hugs and kisses, we parted.
Cruising
Inspired by tales of sailing the high seas and discovering new and exotic places, we decided to give it a go. We drove a couple of miles further along the coast to Gourock and boarded the good ship Sound of Shuna for the 20 minute trip to Dunoon.
Not a huge amount of luxury on the Sound of Shuna but it did have a toilet
Okay, not exactly cruising but it did enabled us to make a round trip up the shores of Loch Long across the Rest And Be Thankful and down the shores of Loch Lomond. We eventually got home very late after a great day full of happy memories!
A letter box made in Falkirk in St Catherines on the shores of Loch Long
Our Sydney correspondents thought our blog had gone rather quiet on the subject of Scottish politics … Nicola Sturgeon and all that? They’re right, of course, we have gone quiet. The reason being that we have no idea what is going on. If anyone else knows please get in touch. All we can say is that the actual case for Scottish independence remains stronger than ever.
Latest news is that the US Defence Department has a secret stash of UFOs. If true, it infers that these ‘nonhuman biologics’ had the intelligence and wherewithal to get somewhere but then had no idea what to do once there. A complete mystery if it wasn’t for the fact that it sounds suspiciously like Westminster!
Our previous post from the Wee Bear Café was a bit unusual because it took me back to my roots in Glenisla. This post from Mulberries Coffee Shop in Kirkcudbright (pronounced kir-coo-bree) is unusual as well but for a different reason … I don’t have my trusty sconey partner with me. Instead of Pat I have my brother and two old friends. I use ‘old’ in every sense of the word. If this post seems like an episode of Last of the Summer Wine it wouldn’t be too far off the mark.
One is the Laird a valued correspondent for many years who has a slightly different slant on sconology. The other is a mere sapling, Young enough to still dabble in stuff called work and still able to walk unaided. The rest of us were relying on him to dig us out of any holes we might very easily fall into. Between the four of us we had the makings of at least one good physical specimen. I’m in good hands although, come to think of it, I never asked about their hands!
View along the street from Mulberries towards MacLellan’s Castle in the distance
Jobs?
The town’s name derives from “Chapel of St Cuthbert” that was demolished in the the early 1500s. Sir Thomas MacLellan subsequently used the stones to build MacLellan’s Castle, How did he get away with that you might ask? Well, we don’t know but in 1580 he was appointed as “gentleman in the bedchamber” to King James VI. Didn’t even know that was a job so we’ll say no more!
The bar at the Wee Bear
It’s a town full of creatives and is commonly known as the “The Artist’s Town”. We were on a mission to examine future potentials of a narrow strip of woodland my brother has. It runs along the west coast of Kirkcudbright Bay for about three miles. Before we got to the wood, however, we stopped in the town to get some supplies and, lo and behold, we were outside Mulberries Coffee Shop. It was beckoning!
Just as well they allow non-creatives into town because within two shakes of a lamb’s tail we were in Mulberries destroying their scones. And very nice they were too. Quite big but with a goodly amount of fruit and lots of jam and cream. The cream was presented Mr Wippy style.
Uncategorised
The Laird, who I mentioned earlier had a different slant on sconology and everything else come to that, proceeded to put jam on his cheese scone. Mon dieu! Pat and I normally regard cheese scones as ‘butter only’ affairs so I was thankful that Pat wasn’t present to witness this abomination. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy it though so maybe Pat and I should just chillax? However, having thought about it for a nanosecond … it’s an abomination! So, enjoyable as they were, considering the poor judgment of my companions and Pat’s absence these scones, for the moment, would have to remain ‘uncategorised’.
One of the beaches in Senwick Woods looking over Kirkcudbright Bay
Good news
Lawrence of Arabia spent some of his formative years in Kirkcudbright. He may even have sparked his sense of adventure in Senwick Woods. A bit of a leap perhaps but we had a definite sense of adventure heading into the woods and stumbling on ancient dry-stone moss covered walls and little deserted beaches. There are ravens, red kites and red squirrels here as well as badgers and lots of roe deer. The highpoint, however, was when we came across this little Meadow Brown butterfly. Seeing a brown butterfly represents new beginnings and a sign that you are about to get good news. It could be anything! At this moment, as far as the four of us are concerned, a cure for decrepitude would be joyous news indeed.
Not sure if anything was decided on future plans for the wood but I am sure we had a fab day. The four of us sat on a log looking over to the Lake District talking about family and the ways of the world. Amongst our wide ranging discussions one thing surprised me greatly. One of my companion’s friends, an atheist, was about to graduate with a Degree in Theology. I was astounded! It had never before occurred to me that that could … or would happen. Thinking about it now, of course, it’s perfectly logical … unlike jam on a cheese scone!
Quite some time ago our Trossachs correspondents recommended the Wee Bear Café at Bridgend of Lintrathen. We thought it was an interesting name and lodged it at the back of our minds. Perhaps it was a reference to the brown bears that used to roam throughout Scotland until the 5th century, along with wolves and all sorts of other things you wouldn’t want to meet on a dark night. Or even a light night come to that. Nowadays, more people are killed by cows than any other animal and, of course, midges just make you wish you were dead.
Wandering
This morning we thought we would pop out for breakfast. We didn’t have anywhere in mind but ended up at Scotts at South Queensferry. We reviewed its scones four years ago and have been back many time s since … but never for breakfast. As expected it was excellent and we left as very happy bunnies indeed. A beautiful day so instead of heading back home directly we took the Queensferry Crossing and drove north. We thought we might visit the antique centre at Abernyte near Dundee. However, when we were almost there we saw a large roadside sign for the Alyth Show.
For almost the first decade of my life, I lived in a cottage in Kilry, a sort of tributary glen to Glenisla. Some would say it was the middle of nowhere but for me it was my entire world. A van appeared every Saturday with everything required for survival in a Scottish glen. Alyth, a market town of about 2,000 souls, as far as I was concerned, was the “big city, a veritable metropolis. When Pat and I arrived in Alyth we realised that we were only four miles from where I grew up and remembered the words of our Trossachs correspondents. Hence this very long winded explanation of how we ended up here at the the Wee Bear Café.
Loch of Lintrathen
Bears?
Friends of my parents looked after the Loch of Lintrathen, the water supply for Dundee. It was only a mile or so from our house so we used to visit the village regularly. At that time there was a tiny shop but nothing like the Wee Bear. It’s quite a big place with a restaurant, bar and even accommodation if you want to stay. The owners have done a superb job and it turns out that the name has nothing to do with bears. “Bear” is simply the name of their much loved dog … a small dog, hence the name!
There were lots of tables outside but we decided to sit in the shade inside. The tables in here are made from recycled old cable drums. The café must employ all the young girls in the village because the service was very efficient and friendly. In no time we were sorted with everything we needed including a fruit scone to share. They didn’t have cream, however, it was all very nice. About as close as you can get to a topscone without actually getting it. The Wee Bear is a fantastic place and thoroughly recommended.
It all happens in Glenisla
Many people think that nothing of note ever happened in Glenisla. The truth is very different! Let us enlighten you! For example, when I was about five we got “the electric”. It was a new fandangled thing and absolutely life changing. However, when I talk of this to my grandchildren they just look at me pityingly as if I’m from some distant galaxy. To be fair, I can hardly believe it myself. However, that’s not all. Other earth-shattering things have happened here as well.
the bar at the Wee Bear, scene of many musical evenings
John Farquharson, a local renowned poacher, invented the falling block breech loading rifle that could self cock and dispense with the spent cartridge in one smooth continuous motion. Not having any tools or a workshop, he carved out his prototype from a turnip. And another local man, James Sandy, invented the invisible hinge. We would show you a picture but for obvious reasons, that’s difficult.
My father was a forester in Glenisla. He once did a small favour for an old lady who lived nearby. In gratitude she presented him with a chicken, plucked and ready for the pot. He protested that this far out weighed the value of the work he had done but she was insistent and assured him “it was dying anyway“. Such was life in the glen, everybody knew everybody and although isolated with no transport we were never stuck for anything.
Progress?
Once when I was hired as a very small beater for a pheasant and rabbit shoot, one of my fellow beaters got shot. It wasn’t serious. He had only taken one shotgun pellet to the head but he was a bit upset. My perplexed father wondered what to do with him. In the course of the day the rather impatient landowner (whose shoot it was) had observed the urine being squeezed from the shot rabbits. He came up with the answer ” Oh, just piss him and put him in the bag!” Those were the days! Who would have thought back then that “the electric” would mean us ending up with hundreds of TV channels in full colour. And very few worth watching!
Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to go to the bird hides on the Loch of Lintrathen. It’s home to tufted ducks, shovelers, great crested grebes, mallards, coots and herons. We did pass the Incheoch farm, however, home to 1200 ewes, 220 beef cows, a few hens and a Great Spotted Woodpecker. We know about the woodpecker because it was on a tree straight in front of us … fantastic!
This telephone box was opposite the Wee Bear Café. Sadly no longer functional
Reminiscing
Here in the county of Angus, kelpies and fairies lurk just out of sight on riverbanks and hillsides, waiting to draw unsuspecting travellers into another world. Given that, it seems shameful to introduce something as sordid as politics. So we won’t!
Just a great day in a great place and a great scone. Apologies for all the personal reminiscing … couldn’t help it!
Bo’ness was once one of Scotland’s largest ports and would have traded the black stuff (coal not caviar) with France for many centuries. Scotland was France’s oldest ally since the two countries formed the Auld Alliance in 1295 in an attempt to control England’s many invasions. Trade between the two circumvented England and ports like Bo’ness and Leith thrived. It may also explain why Scotland has always thought of itself as much more European than England.
We never think this is a good idea. Scones need to breathe after all and sometimes it means that they might not be entirely fresh. Anyway, we ordered one to share as well as a some coffees. Our scone turned out to be not at all bad but a long way off a topscone.
