Believe it or not we are still at Crieff Hydro for this post, or at least we’re still on the Crieff Hydro estate. Now, however, we are in Action Glen, about a five minute drive from the main hotel. And at the centre of Action Glen is the appropriately named Basecamp bar and cafe. Like all good basecamps it’s where you set out from on your daring adventures. It could be horse riding, off-roading, or even zip lining, There’s four zip lines side by side so you can have races.
Is it a bird, is it a plane, no it’s supersconey
Competing with the grandkids I always seemed to come last … greater wind resistance was the problem! So unfair!
Mysterious forces
There’s a very tempting giant maze where, if you really tried, you could easily lose grandkids! We have to say, ours had an uncanny knack of finding us again. There’s paddle boarding or fly fishing instruction … whatever takes your fancy really. Then there’s the Glen’s Fort where you can rock climb up to the top of the tower then whoosh down a metal tube back to ground level. There’s Segway experiences and huge inflated pillows you can bounce on. There’s even 4×4 driving for kids. Amidst all this non-stop fun, however, we were delighted to discover that they also did some serious adult stuff … like scones. It wasn’t too long before we were drawn into the Basecamp cafe as if by some mysterious irresistible force. Ice cream seemed to have the same effect on the kids.
Unfortunately, the cafe was being manned single handedly by a chap who was completely out of his depth. He was probably supposed to be doing off-road driving instruction and had been told that he would have to do the cafe instead because the normal staff hadn’t turned up. It was all quite funny as he frantically rummaged around looking for things. As he wrestled with the orders the customers felt his frustration and were very supportive. Basecamp is a good place. All fairly basic but the kind of place you’re very pleased to get back to after all the outdoorsy stuff.
No worries
Okay, it’s not exactly high altitude Everest Basecamp but nevertheless we felt a scone report would be appreciated by our fellow sconeys. A fruit scone with some tea. was our relatively simple order. We took our scone to a table and waited for the tea … and waited … and waited! Needless too say, our fish-out-of-water server had completely forgotten. No worries it all worked out in the end. No cream but the slightly over-cooked scone came with some prepacked butter and a generous portion of blackcurrant jam. Enjoyable enough but not a topscone. Who cares when you can just sit looking out towards distant Ben Vorlich. The kids didn’t share any of their ice cream but by all accounts it was very good.
This is your intrepid sconey team for 2024. From Basecamp we will venture forth into the nether regions of the world in search of topscones for another year. Wish us luck!
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.
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.
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
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.
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!
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 😀
Just over a year ago we reported from ‘Aran’ in Falkirk and it got pretty close to a topscone award. It has since closed and today’s ‘Aran’ is in Linlithgow but run by the same people. In our original Aran post we said we would report from the Linlithgow establishment at some point in the future … so here we are!
Linlithgow is a very picturesque historic town and this cafe sits not more than two hundred yards from the Palace where Mary Queen of Scots was born in 1542. Unfortunately Aran is housed in a large 60s architectural monstrosity that does no favours to the town whatsoever. A plaque on the wall, however, indicates that it won a design award from the Saltire Society. What were they thinking?
You will remember, of course, that “aran” is Gaelic for “bread”. They take great pride in their sustainability and sourcing local produce. They bake everything themselves using 100% renewable electricity as well as recycling 75% of their waste. Highly commendable but what would their scones also be highly commendable?
Topless
Over the past year we have had our fair share of scone disasters. Aside from the relatively few places that have had below average scones, there have been places with no scones and others with outlandish flavour combinations. Here, however, we had another kind of disaster … topless scones! Because I had ordered a bowl of soup Pat went ahead and chopped the top of our shared scone before I could take a photo. Not only that she had eaten it before I even noticed. This is the first time we have posted a photograph of a topless scone and I cannot tell a lie … it was her! However, she did say that the top was very good and with cream it would have been a topscone. The bottom was delicious as well … one of the best bottoms I’ve tasted! So not quite a topscone but highly commendable.
Goodwill
This is the season of merriment and goodwill to all men (for men read men, women and everything in between and beyond). However, sitting here looking at the world from Linlithgow, where the town motto is “be kind to strangers”, we’re not seeing much in the way goodwill. No-one seems to have told the Putins, Sunaks, Ali Khameneis, Bidens, Netanyahus. However, here in Scotland, in three days time we will have our shortest day at slightly less than seven hours. From then on the days start to stretch and we begin again with renewed hope that all these guys mentioned above will try to enact that motto.
Pat and I are getting ready for the usual deluge of grandkids so sconological adventures may have to be left to one side over the festive season. We thank all our readers for your continued loyal support and wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy, healthy and sconey 2024.
Sometimes people say things like “you fairly get around, don’t you” and we’re never quite sure whether it’s congratulatory or accusatory. We kind of know what they mean but it just doesn’t seem that way to us. As if to amplify the point, however, our previous post from Dnisi in Kirkintilloch is now followed by this one from Bakearoma – Bakery & Coffee Lounge in the Australian outback. Yes, today we are posting from the town of Roma in Western Queensland. Of course, Pat and I are not actually there but luckily our Toowoomba correspondents are.
Driving
Aussies can be pretty disparaging about us northerners – we’re talking hemispheres! They reckon we are too wimpish to bother driving almost three hundred miles for a scone. Apparently it’s no trouble to Aussies! They are forgetting, of course, that we just have more sense! For us to drive three hundred miles we would end up on the outskirts of London having negotiated intense traffic round major cities like Manchester and Birmingham. And it would take around seven or eight rainy hours.
They, on the other hand, can probably drive in a straight sunny line from Toowoomba to Roma with barely any traffic and just the odd kangaroo hopping alongside past the occasional billabong. And, with cruise control the whole way, they would be there before they could finish singing Waltzing Matilda! Okay, okay, we’ve never been to Australia and for all we know there could be a bend somewhere in the road.
What’s in a name?
We thought Roma, population 7,000 and established in 1867 (‘yesterday’ to us northerners) would have been named by a homesick Italian immigrant. Seems obvious but it’s actually commemorating the Greek wife of an Irishman. Her name was Lady Diamantina Roma Bowen, wife of Sir George Bowen.
Seriously though, we are deeply indebted to our correspondents for their sconological endeavours down under. And we don’t mean to scoff at their sense of history … not really! In their own words:
“Well, there is a lot of history out there, again, not by northern hemisphere standards, however, Roma has the distinction of being the first town gazetted in the new colony of Queensland. By 1864 it had its own court of petty sessions, a police station, doctor, chemist, and postmaster. The town was connected by telegraph to Dalby and Brisbane in 1866. So, there is history there! Nowadays Roma is known for its strong agricultural sector, including beef and crop production. It is home to the country’s largest cattle sale yards.
Roma is also known as the birthplace of Australia’s Oil and Gas industry. All this and more! The meat pies at the local bakery can’t be bettered, however….the scones.. afraid they would not pass the Pat and Bill Paterson’s high standards, despite the fact they come accompanied by a generous slice of carrot cake! Had our scones and drove the four hours home. Will do it again without hesitation!!
Maintaining sylph-like figures
Thank goodness every scone doesn’t come with a slice of carrot cake. Our waistlines would be even more under threat! We should finish off with some comment on Australian politics. However, apart from knowing that it has to be better than here in the UK, where we are currently being lectured on illegality and human rights by Rwanda,, we don’t know enough about it. Mind you that’s never stopped us commenting on things before!
Our only wish is that the next time our correspondents set off looking for a scone they don’t stop at Roma and just carry on to Falkirk! Can’t promise carrot cake though.
We’re in Kirkintilloch today to see one of Pat’s aunties. She’s in her nineties and of the nine aunts and uncles on her mum’s side this aunt is the last man standing. However, we haven’t seen her since she went into a care home and we had been warned that she probably wouldn’t know who we were. Consequently we were approaching with a degree of dread, it could be a very short visit. Unfortunately we arrived just as the home was sitting down to lunch so they asked us to come back in an hour. Hence we find ourselves here in Dnisi killing time.
In spite of Pat having had several relatives in the Kirkie (as it’s known locally) this is the first time we have ventured downtown. Parking’s a nightmare! Dnisi is part of a chain which sports seven outlets across Scotland. It originated here in Kirkintilloch in 2004. Their unique selling point is “roasted in-store coffee”. Having invested in small coffee roasting machines, they actually roast their coffee on site in each venue. You can also buy the D’nisi blend to take away. On a large hessian sign pinned to the wall they also proclaim to have award winning handbaked scones . All very promising!
Overindulging
We decided to share a toasted cheese andwich and a fruit scone along with some of their special coffee. Imagine our surprise when the huge toasted sandwiched arrived on two plates with half the sandwich on each accompanied with a salad and french fries. Each plate was lunch on its own! We had just wanted a snack but it was all so delicious that it disappeared quite quickly. Then the scone! It was huge as well! Unfortunately, it too was delicious with a lovely crunchy exterior so it went the same way as the sandwich.
Together with the friendly service it might well have been a topscone had it not been quite so big and the jam and cream hadn’t been prepackaged. They are trying very hard in Dnisi, however, we would thoroughly recommend it. By the way, the coffee was good as well, Not as good as our favourite Cat’s Pyjamas, but good.
It was time to return to the nursing home so we waddled out past the grey granite drinking fountain which you can see in the title picture. At the top there is the motto of Kirkintilloch which says ‘Ca’canny but ca’awa‘. It’s in Scots but an English translation might be ‘Carry on carefully, but keep carrying on’. We might adopt that as our own motto!
Back at the nursing home, we needn’t have worried. Pat’s aunt knew us straight away. She was absolutely delighted to see us and insisted on introducing us to all her friends. It was a joyful visit!
Time?
No joy, however, elsewhere. The war in Gaza makes us feel positively sick. The situation is absolutely desperate. When we think about the causes, however, one thing seems to stand out … God! It may not be PC these days to think of Him as a Him but for the purposes of this blog He’s a bloke. The puzzling thing is that He is on both sides. Apparently about 2000 years ago He told the Jews that the land of Israel was theirs. A bit unGodlike to show favouritism but let’s accept that He did.
That would be fine it wasn’t for Him also promising the same land to the Palestinians who had been living there for thousands of years before. Isn’t it a crying shame that they didn’t have iPhones back then to record all these conversations with God! The Holy Land has always been a mess but there were people happily living there when it was just Land. God is always blessing America and that in itself should demonstrate what a deeply flawed individual He is! And three or four thousand years is but a blink of an eye in terms of time so perhaps it might help if both sides just left God out of it … He’s not helping!
Luckily we still have joyful old aunties and places like Dnisi to see us through!
You might think that Mary Queen of Scots crops up quite a lot in this blog. Honestly, it’s only because there are reminders of her dramatic but short life everywhere we go. Today we are at the Old Mill in the village of Killearn and almost directly opposite is the imposing, 103 feet high obelisk – the George Buchanan Monument. It dominates the house where he was born in 1506. George was Mary’s tutor as well as tutor to her son King James VI. George was educated in Paris and was seen as one of the leading intellectuals of the time. However, we’re not too sure he made such a great job of James … and thereby hangs a tale.
In 1589 the twenty three year old James married the fourteen year old Anne of Denmark by proxy. She was in Denmark and he was in Scotland. Earl Marshall substituted for James, and ‘consummated’ the marriage by lying fully clothed on a bed next to his new Queen. What kind of job is that? Eventually she sailed to Scotland but a storm meant she ended up in Norway. James sailed to Norway and they were married in Oslo and honeymooned in Scandinavia for three months before eventually reaching Edinburgh in yet another storm. James blamed these storms on witches. He became obsessed with witches. Church leaders decreed that witches had to be punished with fire thus kicking off a century of horrendous witch burning. Pity help you if you were the slightest bit odd or your neighbours complained about you.
Woman of the year 1590
The marriage between Anne and James wasn’t exactly blissful. Within twenty years Anne had seventeen pregnancies and gave birth to eight children only three of which survived infancy. However, one became King Charles I, another became Queen of Bohemia and the other became the Prince of Wales but died when he was eighteen! During this time James had fathered numerous illegitimate children and reputedly courted several male lovers too. Poor guy, he had complex needs. Surprise, surprise, he and Anne spent the last ten years living apart! She died aged 44 … same as her mum-in-law Mary Queen of Scots. Ahh, the good old days!
Okay, enough of Royal debauchery and witch burning. The last time we were in Killearn was back in March when we were at the Kitchen Window. And again in May for Kenny Endo’s taiko drumming concert. It’s a happening place for being such a small village! The Old Mill was built in 1774 and is now a pub with a café across a courtyard area where horses used to be stabled
Coping manfully
It was a nice day but quite windy and the couple at the next table said that they had booked to go to the Isle of Man but the ferry had been cancelled. It’s them witches again! We got a fruit and cinnamon scone which came nicely presented with plenty butter and jam. No cream but hey, sometime you just can’t have everything! There only seemed to be one young girl on duty and she was doing a lot of dashing to and fro. Turned out the kitchen is in the pub across the courtyard. Just as well it wasn’t busy otherwise she would have been exhausted. Fruit and cinnamon was a nice combination but not a topscone.
You might think that a pretty little place like Killearn would be relatively untouched by war and that is largely true. However in 1943 the UK had well over 1000 prisoner of war camps and one of them was here. Fifty POWs were housed in two huts on the edge of the village. Don’t think any would have been frequenting the Old Mill … but who knows? Forty miles away in another village, Comrie, there was a much bigger POW camp. In 2009 a former German inmate announced he was leaving his entire fortune to the village as thanks for the kindness he had received there. Let’s hope the current exchange of prisoners between Israel and Palestine can lead to some sort of reconciliation.
ps: Killearn lies in a beautiful valley called Strathendrick which coincidentally is the name of our house back in Falkirk. Don’t know why it’s called that but that was the name when we bought it!
This post is a little bit different. It’s not so much about a scone but a scone recipe. The Major A A Gordon Society may sound like somewhere you might go for an upmarket afternoon tea but it’s not. Or if it was it would be in Antwerp and we are definitely not there. Let us explain!
Obviously attentive readers will remember mention of the Major A A Gordon Society in the Wee Timorous Beastie post back in June. Initially the Society got in touch because they had read one of our posts from 2015 about the Scotch Tea House in Nice on the Côte d’Azure. They wanted to know if it was the same “Scottish Teahouse” Major Gordon had visited back in 1939. So far we have been unable to provide a definitive answer but are pretty sure that it is.
So in a way, our’s and Major Gordon’ s paths have crossed. When we were there the tearoom looked very Victorian and we speculated that it was there because Queen Victoria spent a few months every year in Nice and loved everything “Scottish’`. And it looked as if it had not changed in the last one hundred years. Who knows, we may have even sat at the same table as Queen Victoria or Major Gordon?
Major Gordon’s family home in Bridge of Allan
Major Gordon was from Bridge of Allan here in Scotland but is largely unknown here. In Belgium, however, it is a different story. He is a celebrated war hero because of his courageous actions during the Siege of Antwerp in 1914, Suffice to say, serendipity and scones seem to have coalesced in a way that means that Pat and I now do research on the Society’s behalf here in Scotland.
Recipes
As part of the exchange of correspondence they sent us pictures of the cookbook Major Gordon wrote around 120 years ago. They thought we would be interested in the scone recipe.
Turns out Major Gordon was a bit of a sconey … there were several recipes
Innovating
Anyway, one day Pat decided to try and bring one of the recipes to life. There were problems however, we didn’t have any “buttermilk”. We didn’t even know what it was! When we looked it up it seemed to come in powdered form. Pat improvised with some self-raising flour and a pinch of sugar. Suffice to say the results, with homemade jam and whipped cream, were rather good. We have now discovered that buttermilk can be made simply by adding vinegar to milk to make it curdle. Think we’ll leave that for the time being!
You just never know
We sent the pictures off to Belgium and within days they appeared in the November Issue of the Society’s newsletter. They have also made Pat and I and my sister, who has been researching the Scotch Tearoom in Nice, honorary members. You see you just never know where the simple act of eating a scone will lead. We are, of course delighted and delighted to continue helping the Society in any way we can.
Best laid plans
Back in June in the post from the Timorous Beastie Cafe we referred to the poem “To A Mouse” by Robert Burns. The timorous beastie was a mouse and Burns had just destroyed its nest with his plough. It made him reflect on life and its unpredictability. “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft agley.” He apologises to the mouse and for the general tyranny of man. With everything going on in the world and now the imbecilic riots in Dublin last night you might think that man should have progressed a wee bit since Burns’s day. It would appear not! Thank goodness for scones!
Today we are in Darnley Coffee House. Built in the 16th century it’s had a long and chequered history. At one time it served as a rather famous brothel and now it’s said to be troubled by poltergeists … you know, things that go bump in the night! Apparently, however, it takes its name from Lord Darnley whose home it used to be. He was Mary Queen of Scots second of three husbands. Of little import, you might think, when scones are in question! However, a brief bullet-point history may help readers understand the sort of dramas this place (and its scones) may have witnessed back then!
Mary became Queen of Scotland when she was six days old. She was crowned and spent the first four years of her life just a few hundred yards away from Darnleys Coffee House in Stirling Castle.
In 1558, aged 15, she married the 14 year old Dauphin Francis of France and became Queen of France as well as Scotland when his dad died a year later. She was sixteen.
King Francis died when she was eighteen whereupon she was sent back to Scotland (no offspring had transpired so no longer required)
Four years after returning to Scotland she fell head over heels in love with her half cousin, Lord Darnley (in whose house we are currently eating scones – albeit the stables of the house)
Darnley turned out (like a lot of Lords to this very day) to be a bit of a waste of space so Mary ended up pretty much disregarding him.
That old chestnut – jealousy!
Darnley became jealous of Mary’s Italian private secretary David Rizzio. Darnley thought, wrongly, that Rizzio may have been responsible for his wife being pregnant.
Darnley, aided and abetted by Lord Bothwell stabbed Rizzio fifty six times in the Queen’s bedchamber in Holyrood Palace. The blood stains are still there! Then, for good measure, they kicked him down the stairs … Rizzio was dead!
Later, Darnley was living at Kirk o’ Field in Edinburgh when it was blown up. He was found dead in the garden. The body, however, was unharmed … he had been suffocated!
In 1567 Mary visited her and Darnley’s son James, in Stirling Castle (he was only ten months old). Mary never saw her son again.
Mary was forced to abdicate and her son became King of Scotland and England when he was thirteen months old (can it get any weirder?)
Yes, Lord Bothwell, surprise, surprise, turned out to be another waste of space. He abducted and raped Mary in Dunbar Castle. After being divorced for a full twelve days Bothwell forced Mary to marry him in 1567. You’d never guess that he had an ulterior motive! She later miscarried twins while imprisoned in a castle on a tiny island in the middle of Loch Leven.
A year later she escaped and raised an army to fight the Battle of Langside.
Ten years later Lord Bothwell, imprisoned in a Danish castle, died having gone completely insane.
Because Mary was Catholic and had a legitimate claim to the English throne she spent 19 years imprisoned in various castles in both Scotland and England.
In 1587 at Fotheringhay Castle, Mary, aged 44, had her head chopped by her cousin Elizabeth I (not actually by Elizabeth – she got someone to do it for her)
Learning outcomes
Readers who have persevered so far will, if nothing else, have learned two things 1. Lords are generally a waste of space 2. Castles are useful for all sorts of things. Nothing about scones though … unless, of course, you continue reading!
Picture in Darleysb of the street outside. Lord Darley may even be it?
Alluring
Earlier in the day we had been to see an old black and white movie “The Edge of the World” supposedly set on remote St Kilda. In 1937 they couldn’t get permission to film on St Kilda so resorted to producing the film on the equally remote island of Foula in the Shetlands. For me, St Kilda is unique in that it seems to become even more alluring after you have visited. Nowhere else has had that same affect. Anyway, the movie was highly unrealistic but remarkable in that they got the technology of the age to work at all in such a remote place.
Wee stills
After that we visited Stirling Distillery. I was puzzled how such a small distillery was able to produce any whisky at all. Turns out they can only do very small batches. Their first produce won’t be ready until 2027. And there won’t be much of it even then … probably about 300 bottles. When we saw the stiil it all started to make sense ,… it’s tiny! Let’s hope they can make it commercially viable. Meantime, gin sales willl have to keep the whole thing going. We bought a bottle of their nettle gin then we headed a little way down the street to Darnleys Coffee House.
The first thing you notice is the barrel vaulted ceilings. They don’t do them like that any more. Like the distillery, it’s small and easily managed by just two or three very friendly staff who seem to take a real pride in what they do.
Having had quite a busy day of watching movies and visiting distilleries we felt in need of sustenance. Lunch was plentiful and absolutely delicious! The question was, could we manage a scone as well?
Cream tea
Well, you know the answer to that. They offered a cream tea which came with two scones … one each. They were a bit bigger than expected so, at first, we thought we had been a tad ambitious. No worries, they were nicely presented, warm and just as delicious as our lunch had been. In no time they were nowhere to be seen! We dithered a little over a topscone award but eventually decided that they just made it. Well done Darnley Coffee House,
Hostages?
There’s a tiny flicker of humanity appearing in the Israel/Gaza war. A brief ceasefire has been agreed, conditional on the release of Israeli hostages held in Gaza. Israel calls its Palestinian hostages ‘prisoners’ and has published the names of 300 potential releases. Only half that number will actually be released … how thoughtless and cruel is that?
Dead right or right dead?
Isn’t it odd that every war is fought between people who honestly believe they are ‘right’. Or, at least we’re not aware of any war being fought with one side believing they’re wrong. God is always on both sides! War doesn’t make any sense unless both sides are ‘right’ … but then that doesn’t make sense either? And they never end with one side being proved wrong … just dead! On that basis Israel will win this war, not because they are ‘right’ but just because the Palestinians are dead … what a fab solution! You would have thought, with 80 million deaths in WWII, us homo sapiens would have learned something?
Okay, that’s it, Pat and I need to get on with our cosy little lives!
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!
the bridge from Skye to Kyle of Lochalsh on the mainland
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.
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!
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!
You know how we’ve been going on bit about family connections to the Isle of Skye. We’re very aware that if you’re not a MacDonald or a McKinnon then it could be of limited interest. So, if you’re bored already you should stop reading because there’s more MacDonald stuff coming up in this post. My middle name being MacDonald has got nothing to do with it … honest!
Titles
Today we are at the Antlers Tea Room which is part of the Portree Hotel. The hotel was built in 1875 and stands on the corner of Somerled Square.
A painting of the hotel in the bar
The Square is so named to commemorate the great Celtic warrior Somerled who died in 1164. His son, Donald, became the first Lord of the Isles and the MacDonalds (sons of Donald) are all descended from him. The current Lord of the Isles is Prince William, Prince of Wales, who also bears the other Scottish titles of Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick and Baron of Renfrew … really? We think the MacDonalds, whose chief now lives at Kinloch Lodge, need to get that “Lord of the Isles” title back! It seems only right.
Anyway, we ordered a fruit scone to share at Antlers because they were quite big and we thought that’s all we could manage. We have to be ever mindful that there’s a fabulous dinner being prepared for us back at Kinloch Lodge. It would be rude not to be able to do it justice. A good decision because our scone wasn’t that great. It had plenty of fruit but it was just too soft and a little bit stodgy. Shame because with its big wood burning stove it was a nice cosy place.
Looking over Portree harbour
Good guys
There’s a small plaque on the wall outside that commemorates a speech given from the hotel balcony by radical republican Michael Davitt in 1887. He had already been imprisoned a couple of times for speechifying. Scotland’s land ownership has long been something of a monopoly. Most private land is held by a mere handful of people. During the Highland Clearances people were driven off the land – you can see ruined and abandoned villages all over Skye. Davitt campaigned long and hard for crofters to have the right to stay on their land. Not a MacDonald but still a ‘good guy’. He must have been because he spend much of his life being imprisoned by the British establishment.
But enough of Davitts, let’s get back to MacDonalds. When we left Antlers replete with half a scone each we headed north on the road that leads to the Old Man of Storr. Normally we would cut off at Staffin and take a rather tortuous road across to Uig where we were usually trying to catch a ferry to the Outer Hebrides. The road, however, carries on through Staffin and round the Trotternish peninsula. Eventually it ends up at Uig as well. It’s longer hence we have never taken it before. We were now venturing into unknown territory. It’s very scenic and, if you’re not in a hurry, well worth the extra miles.
Unsafe
At the most northerly point we came to ruins of Duntulm Castle, an ancient MacDonald stronghold.As recently as the 1990s a large part of it fell into the sea and what’s left is considered too unsafe to visit. However, that may also be because of several ghosts that we’re told still reside there.
Just a mile or so further south we came to Kilmuir churchyard. There’s no church these days but the graveyard where Flora MacDonald is buried is still there. She and Bonnie Prince Charlie landed here having sailed from Benbecula where he had been hiding from the redcoats. He was dressed as Betty, one of Flora’s female servants. Something, we suspect the Bonnie Prince enjoyed more than he should. The crossing was romanticised in the song The Skye Boat Song.
The monument looks out over the Minch to South Uist in the Outer Hebrides where she was born
The headstone inscription reads: ‘Flora MacDonald. Preserver of Prince Charles Edward Stuart. Her name will be mentioned in history and if courage and fidelity be virtues, mentioned with honour.’
She was imprisoned in the Tower of London for her trouble and is generally seen as a Jacobite heroine. Later, however, she said that if she had found the Prince’s arch enemy, the Duke of Cumberland in similar circumstances she would have done the same for him. She was just another ‘good guy.’
Fashion
Amazingly we also found that Alexander McQueen, the talented but troubled fashion designer and couturier is also buried here. Although from London he loved the Isle of Skye … the land of his father. Readers have probably always wondered why Pat and I are always so stylish and debonaire. One of our twin daughters was Digital Director for Alexander McQueen while her sister was doing the same for Jimmy Choo. We know you’ve always wondered!
Sadly this is our last day on Skye. On our way back for dinner at Kinloch Lodge we stopped off at Sligachan hotel. This was an old haunt when it was mainly frequented by hairy unwashed climbers. It’s definitely gone upmarket since then.
Evening view of the Black Cuillin from Sligachan
Seeing this view of the Black Cuillin brought back memories of camping high up amongst these peaks and using them as a kind of playground. At that time ‘wisdom’ wasn’t a word that could be remotely associated with me or my friends. However, they say it comes with age. I wish I could say that today when my desire to be back up on the Cuillin ridge was tempered by age-acquired wisdom. It wasn’t, t was all down to age-acquired decrepitude.
Black Cuillin ridge by www.summitpost.org
There was nothing else for it … back to Kinloch for more pampering!
ps: In the interests of balance we should point out that some people see the MacDonalds and the McKinnons as nothing more than lying thieving good-for-nothings. However, they are usually McLeods or Campbells … and what do they know? Pots and kettles come to mind!
by Bill and Pat Paterson and is about finding good scones throughout the world, with a little bit of politics