Mount Everest Archives - Scones, history and a dollop of politics

Just in case readers are beginning to get the wrong idea and assume that we just hang out in places like the Fife Arms, let us banish that thought. Nothing could be further from the truth. This post comes from somewhere that is no less enjoyable but from the opposite end of the spectrum. The Humbie Hub is a small, humble even, village Post Office/Cafe/Shop just south of Edinburgh … but how did we hear about it? Well, somebody told somebody who told somebody else who told our Trossachs correspondents who told us. The scone network of spies and informers spreads ever deeper.

Got to let mum know

A small hamlet like Humbie is no stranger to momentous events. Communication is an odd beast these days. Everybody (especially Alexa) seems to know everything and nothing, all at the same time. Obviously the name Humbie Hub infers that it is at the centre of things … and it very much is! This was particularly true, however, in 1953 when it was known as the Telegraph & Telephone Call Office. Suffice to say that the good folks of Humbie knew that Mount Everest had been conquered long before the rest of the world. The leader of the Everest expedition, John Hunt, sent a telegram to his mum who was living in Humbie at the time. The news wasn’t released to the rest of the world until the following month on the day of Queen Elizabeth’s coronation.

Joyous

View of Whitburgh House and dovecot — Whitburgh House and Dovecote where dad worked as a forester

By that time, of course, the village was well used to momentous events. A few years previously I had been born there!

Whitburgh cottage over the years — Whitburgh cottages in 1948,, 2012 and the present day

That glorious event was celebrated with much pageantry and joyous celebrations in the street(s) of Humbie … I’m pretty sure there’s more than one street. At least that’s how I imagine it.

External view of Whitburgh cottage — It’s just missing a blue plaque

I left when I was two months old and headed north to the Highlands. I always used to say that although I had been born in Humbie, I’d never been there. Obviously a false statement. Incredibly, sixty four years were to elapse before I darkened Humbie’s doorstep again. The news from our Trossachs correspondents about the advent of the Humbie Hub was all the excuse we needed for another visit.

Thoughtful

There were lots of people sitting outside in the spring sunshine and as soon as you enter the Humbie Hub you just sense that it’s a happy place. As well as the Post Office you can buy almost anything imaginable in the shop. There’s a therapy room, a studio and rooms to let … they don’t miss a trick.

We ordered a ham and mustard toastie and a fruit scone … both to share. Thoughtfully, they halved the toastie and served it on separate plates along with some salad. Likewise the scone came with a second plate complete with jam and butter. That’s never happened to us anywhere else. Great service from people who, although busy, were cheerful and still took the time to chat. The very delicious scone had been baked by the lovely smiling Jenny. It’s a slight departure from custom but we decided to overlook the lack of cream and award a topscone … great place.

Toilets

It was intriguing to find that Humbie Hub toilet was twinned with another not quite so plush one in Malawi thanks to the local Primary school. We knew that Scotland had a long standing friendship with Malawi through the Scotland-Malawi Partnership by hadn’t realised it extended to toilets. It’s shocking to think, with the £trillions being thrown at wars all over the place, that kiddiwinks are still dying of diarrhoea through lack of basic sanitation.

Me with the panther at Whitburgh cottage — Next the the cottage where I was born there’s a panther made of pennies …. we don’t understand either!

And another mystery, Now that Iran has launched an overnight attack on Israel, Western governments seem to be urging retaliation. Both Israel and Iran worship the same God, why don’t they ask Him what He would do? Whatever happened to “turn the other cheek?”

EH36 5PJ tel: 01875 833 262 Humbie Hub

///anyway.shocking.fuses

ps: one of the Trossachs correspondent’s informants for this post was teacher, operatic soprano and artist Margot Archibald.

Watercolour by Margot Archibald — “Adagio” by Margot Archibald

On the 23rd of this month she will be holding an exhibition of her atmospheric works at the Humbie Hub. All proceeds go to MacMillan Cancer and victims of the Holocaust. Pat and I don’t know Margot but very much hope she sells the lot … good luck!

Happy New Year everyone! We hope that you enjoy a happy, healthy and prosperous 2022. May all your scones be topscones filled with lots of lovely jam and cream! Normally we spend Hogmanay at our local pub but this year, due to COVID restrictions, we decided to give it a miss and just spent it at home.

So far, the year has been scone free but needless to say we hadn’t reckoned on our correspondents. The last place we expected to hear about a scone, however, was Fredericton, the capital of New Brunswick in Canada.

Heroic adventure

Two of our correspondents got in touch to try and claim the highest scone ever featured on this blog. Wait until Richard Branson hears about this! Will he take up the challenge? Our correspondents had gone to extraordinary lengths! Refreshing to realise that folk still have that heroic spirit of adventure; 1st to the South Pole; 1st to climb Everest etc etc. You can probably tell from the title photo, however, that they did not transport a scone to the summit of Everest, a mere 29,000 ft … no, no, no, they had higher aspirations. 40,000 ft to be precise. And even though Everest grows at 1.5 inches a year, that was going to take a long time. They eventually managed to do it albeit with a little assistance from British Airways.

Unaware

Fredericton used to be called Pointe Ste-Anne until the British drove out the French settlers in 1758 and renamed it after one of King George III’s fifteen children. What are we Brits like? The French were foreigners in Canada after all?? Whatever, we are pretty sure that the 60,000 good people of Fredricton would have had no inkling of the momentous sconological event happening directly overhead.

A scone on board BA flight — Scone with height confirmation from flight information

By all accounts the scone was rather good but of course our correspondents were not qualified to give any sort of award, It does look a little odd in appearance and it is amazing that Rodda’s Cornish Cream can get to these dizzying heights as well as just about everywhere else on the planet. They thoroughly enjoyed them, however, and that’s all that really matters, isn’t it! As for the highest scone award, yes this is indeed it. Our previous high flying scone was a measly 33,000 feet but we cannot remember who reported it. We have introduced a new ‘highest’ category however, so if any of you want to challenge perhaps you should contact Branson, Bezos or Musk.

Travelling in COVID times

Needless to say, our correspondents did not do this specifically to gain the highest scone award, fantastic though it may be. No, they were going to visit family in Conneticut and in these COVID times that is no mean feat. To quote “not difficult taking the tests but filling in the required half baked and inaccurate websites is mind numbing. “Help line” has now become the world’s greatest oxymoron”. They made it, however, so congratulations on that as well as their scone achievement.

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PS: when we reported from Cafe Circa we said that we would let you know what the book we bought, ‘A Tillyloss Scandal’ was about. The author was none other than J.M. Barrie who created Peter Pan. He was from Kirriemuir which he called Thrums in the many stories he wrote about the town. Most of the dialogue is in the local dialect … so not a particularly easy read! It is set in the early 1800s: “Tillyloss is three broken rows of houses in the east end of Thrums, with gardens between them, nearly every one of which used to contain a pig-sty“.

Attending your own funeral

The main character is one Tammas Haggart. When he discovered that his wife, Christy, pretended to her friends that she was married to another man he was not best pleased that she should think so little of him. He left, not knowing where he would end up. After walking some distance he eventually fell asleep sitting against a tree. He awoke to find that he had been robbed of his hat and his great coat that had been lying beside him. Unbeknown to him the thief fell into a nearby quarry and died with a badly damaged face. The local folk, however, identified him as Tammas simply by the clothes he was wearing. Later when Tammas returned to the town he overheard folk talking of his demise and of the funeral arrangements. Thus, a few days later, from a distance, he was able to observe his own funeral.

Tammas went off and had many adventures as far as Edinburgh and some even say London. Eventually some years later he returned to Thrums and, of course, caused quite a stir. Consternation caused by the fact that not only was he alive but who on earth had they buried? Tammas went home to see Christy but rather than a big welcome he found her sitting quietly by the fire smoking his pipe.

As scandals go?

So now you know. Not perhaps a scandal on the scale we have nowadays with Andrew, Duke of York and Ghislaine Maxwell. However, it turns out that Prince Andrew is simply maintaining a long standing tradition. In 1809 the then Duke of York was disgraced in similar circumstances. Have no fear, however, we are sure, that Humpty Dumpty’s Duke of York was an honourable exception … phew!

Scones, history and a dollop of politics

Tag Archives: Mount Everest

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